#running out of time to get to the final breaking point

[sprenthecreator]

IMPURITIES EP. 4 | Falling Away From Me

Final episode from this LSF mini-series

Male reader x Chaewon, Eunchae

9,4k words

tags: hate sex for chaewon, fluff for manchae, threesome

━•✦•━•✦•━

━•✦•━•✦•━

If you'd known how things were going to end, maybe you would have thought twice before falling for Yunjin and Chaewon's manipulation that night in New York.

You were in the living room, sitting in your usual spot, with an iPad on which you checked schedules that apparently no one cared about anymore, your hair messy and your shirt wrinkled, thinking about how you'd lost control of everything thanks to the seeds of chaos you'd once planted and that were now weeds impossible to prune.

A year had passed since that night, and what started as a little game you thought wouldn't amount to much had mutated into the main source of your exhaustion, because the truth was that your authority had eroded to the frustrating point where none of the girls respected you like they used to.

Nah. They didn't even respect you, in general.

Much of it was solely your fault, and it was something you'd made peace with a long time ago. But the girls had been consciously pushing the boundaries ever since, knowing it was as simple as giving you pussy once in a while to get you off your butt. That way, they killed two birds with one stone: they satisfied their carnal needs, and kept you appeased.

At first, it was one-off things you didn't worry too much about, like staying out late without telling you or breaking minor rules of living together. However, when they realized you weren't making a big deal out of it, they started skipping practices, staying out all night without checking in, and seeing as many guys and girls as they pleased.

And all this while making you cover for them.

For God's sake, what the hell had all that become? It was a fucking circus, and you were the highest-paid clown in it. It had to end, and soon. Of that you were sure.

Unfortunately, your only problem was that you had no idea how to proceed. While it was true that your emotional bond with Chaewon—who was the best-behaved of all of them—was by far the strongest compared to the other girls, your relationship had soured thanks to your constant encounters with the others. If it had happened a year ago, you might have been able to address the situation with the levity it required, but now you felt like there was a sea of ​​distance between you.

And all because of jealousy, bad decisions, and the audacity of four girls in their prime.

Laughter upstairs brought you out of your reverie. It couldn't be Chaewon, since you knew she was busy with her own things at that hour, and it couldn't be Kazuha, since she was out on one of her individual photoshoots. That left you with the Three Musketeers.

It wasn't your business to know what they were laughing about, and it never had been, since it was their personal space. But for some time now, you'd been suspicious of even the smallest thing. The laughter could only mean two things: either they were laughing at something innocent, or they were committing one of their misdeeds.

Experience told you it was the latter.

With a heavy breath, you put the iPad aside and stood up, heading for some stairs you hadn't climbed in days, maybe weeks. As you climbed them, you felt a strange discomfort run through your body, knowing you were entering a domain over which your jurisdiction was now null.

Upstairs, you looked around, noticing one of the doors was wide open: the bedroom Sakura and Yunjin shared. More laughter came from there. You walked cautiously, careful not to make your footsteps creak the wooden floor as you approached. A few feet away, you frowned as a smoky smell reached your nostrils. Like... burnt grass, but more intense.

When you peeked your head around the left side of the frame, your suspicions were confirmed and even exceeded.

Sakura and Yunjin were sitting on one of the two beds, dressed in loose clothing and with their hair down. Nothing out of the ordinary until you noticed that Yunjin was holding a lit joint between her index finger and thumb. She didn't notice you were watching, so you watched as she took a quick drag, held it, and then blew the smoke into the air.

They had a long history of inappropriate behavior, but this was completely new and more serious. At least for you. And you weren't going to tolerate it.

"Can you explain to me what the fuck you're doing?!" you asked, abruptly entering the room.

They both got a bit of a shock, but relaxed—yes, they fucking relaxed—when they saw it was you.

"Oh, calm down, manager-nim," Yunjin said, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. "It's just a friendly joint, it won't hurt anyone."

Maybe you were just too irascible and irritable, but that alone was enough to make your blood boil.

"Do you do this shit outside the house too?" You raised your voice and took a step forward. "Do you know that crap can ruin your fucking career? For the love of God!" You threw your hands in the air. "What the fuck are you thinking?"

"If you don't like it, leave," Kura said, shrugging. She took the joint from Yunjin's hand. "We're adults and we know exactly what we're doing."

"And I don't think you're the one to lecture us on morals, are you?" Yunjin asked with a giggle, tilting her head. "My throat still hurts from how well you fucked my face last night."

You snorted, feeling your frustration rising in your body.

"Maybe I'm not, but I'm still your fucking manager, and I've had enough." You walked over to them, grabbing Sakura by the wrist with one hand and taking the joint from her with the other. Then you turned around to walk to the door. "Next time I'll inform the company, see if that will get you in line."

Sakura and Yunjin laughed behind you. Did you tell a joke?

"Yeah, we'll just sit here and wait for you to do it," Kura mocked. "Take your time."

"Goodbye, manager-nim!" Yunjin said to you, still giggling, as you stood under the door, biting your tongue to avoid responding.

In the end, you left the room and slammed the door behind you.

The joint in your hand was still lit, and since you didn't have a stain-resistant surface nearby to put it out, you simply let it burn in a corner of the hallway floor.

As you turned around and started walking down the hall toward the stairs, one of the doors at the far end opened. You stopped as Eunchae emerged from her shared room with Zuha, wearing headphones, a cropped T-shirt that showed off a good portion of her belly, and tight shorts.

And she was carrying a can of beer.

"Oh, hello, manager-nim," Eunchae greeted with a nod of her chin after hanging the headphones around her neck. With a defiant look, she opened the can of beer in front of you.

You clenched your fists and teeth, closing your eyes to summon whatever patience you had left after dealing with the other two.

Since becoming an adult seven months ago, Eunchae had joined the others and started acting like a rebellious brat, and she was undoubtedly the biggest pain in the ass. Not because of what she did, but because, as the maknae, everyone jumped to her defense as if she couldn't even kill a fly.

"Hong Eunchae..." you began in a low but threatening voice. "You better have a good reason for having that damn beer in your hand. You know very well we don't drink here."

Eunchae walked toward you and stopped about a meter away, leaning her weight on one leg and crossing her arms.

"I'm 18 now. I think I can do whatever I please, right?"

"You can do it outside the house. But there are rules here."

"Rules?" Eunchae chuckled. "The same rules under which you fuck my unnies over and over again?"

You were silent for a moment. You had no defense against that.

"That has nothing to do with all of you being brats in constant disobedience," you opted to say.

"If we're in constant disobedience, it's because you haven't had the courage to stand up to us," Eunchae took a step forward. "Or am I wrong? Huh?"

At your silence, Eunchae brought the beer can to her lips and took a long sip. A bit of beer trickled down the sides of her chin and slid down her long neck. Then she looked at you again, closer this time.

"I just drank," she said defiantly. "Are you going to do something about it?"

Eunchae studied you for a moment, noticing your fists clenched in rage. You were about to say something, but she got there first.

"I thought so."

Then, leaving you fuming at her insolence, Eunchae turned on her heel and walked back to her room, her hips swaying.

Definitely, you'd had enough. Something had to change, and it had to change right now. Your mind immediately went to Chaewon. She was the leader, and also supposed to be the most mature, she had to take responsibility for the behavior of her members.

Feeling steam coming out of your ears, you walked to the other end of the hallway. The door to Chaewon's room was ajar, and with your best-contained anger, you entered.

Chaewon was sitting on her messy bed, knees pointed out and feet tucked under her thighs as she scribbled in a notebook. She was wearing short pajama shorts and a loose shirt that slipped off one shoulder, and she was listening to music on her AirPods. Her gaze shifted toward you when she noticed your presence, her expression stern.

"What's wrong?" she asked me with a coldness that made your heart sink, taking out her AirPods as you closed the door behind you with a firm click.

You stood near the door and crossed your arms, feeling the full pressure of being in a place you shouldn't be under normal circumstances weighing on your shoulders. You felt like an intruder, and that's probably what she thought.

"Chaewon, this has gone too far," you finally said, your voice calm and in contrast to how irritated you felt. "The damn house is in disarray. There's no more respect, no more order. Everyone does whatever the hell they want without fear of the consequences, and honestly, I'm fucking exhausted. Do you know what Eunchae was doing? She..."

You stopped saying what you were going to say when Chaewon put her notebook and mechanical pencil aside and got out of bed with a sudden movement.

"Same thing again?" she asked, her tone cutting, taking slow steps toward you until she stopped less than a meter away. "Do you realize the way you're talking?" She tilted her head. "I'm not your fucking babysitter! When are you going to get this through your head?"

You gritted your teeth, focused on not getting any more upset than you already were.

"No, you're not the fucking babysitter. You're the leader of the fucking group, and you don't seem to care that this shit's going down!"

Chaewon let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. She turned and walked over to the desk, where she began shuffling her sheet music, something she did when she was under severe stress. Her hands were shaking.

"And what about you?" Chaewon asked without looking at you. "How can you expect to blame me when this whole fucking mess is your fault?"

"My fault?" You pointed at yourself, walking over to her side. "I've been trying to keep them in line for a damn year, and you just let them do whatever the hell they want," you were inadvertently raising your voice. "You're not using the damn authority you're supposed to have! This is your responsibility too!"

Chaewon turned to face you, her face inches from yours.

"My responsibility?!" She raised her voice too. "I'm sick of taking the fall for your damn mistakes while you..." her voice cracked. "While you fuck the others like you don't care about what I feel!"

Bingo. That's the root of the whole damn situation. The worst part is that it was also your fault for letting her get involved not only sexually with you, but emotionally as well. You liked each other, a lot. But the nature of your working relationship complicated things a lot on your end. Of course, she didn't care, and she allowed herself to feel jealous of the others.

"Chaewon... ugh!" you huffed in frustration, bringing your hands to your face. When you lowered them, your eyes wandered down to her desk, where you noticed an envelope among the sheet music with what appeared to be the HYBE logo. "What's this?"

Chaewon looked where you were looking and tried to hide the envelope, but you were quicker and grabbed it. It was, indeed, an open envelope with the HYBE logo in one corner. She tried to take it from your hands, but you covered yourself and pulled out the folded paper inside.

"You've got to be kidding me..." you muttered.

The sheet contained a notice: an anonymous complaint about LESSERAFIM's behavior, mentioning rumors of parties in nightclubs, lack of discipline, and even dating scandals, with implications for legal action if these behaviors weren't corrected.

Every ounce of patience you'd been mustering evaporated in the heat of your boiling blood. That explained everything: both the girls' audacity at seeing their actions had no consequences and Chaewon's passivity in the matter. She was hiding it.

Betrayed by the leader of the group you were leading. It had gotten to that point.

"Kim Chaewon..." you slowly lowered the sheet of paper, your gaze fixed on the floor. "You knew about this and didn't do anything to fix it?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Chaewon tense, completely still on her feet. You could tell she hadn't planned for you to find out.

"It's not my problem..." she said hesitantly. "If they want to come, then let them. I'm tired."

You raised your gaze to face her, frowning.

"Then let them? What the fuck are you talking about?" You shook the sheet of paper in your hand and then threw it on the desk. "Don't you realize that your passivity makes you just as guilty as the rest of us?!"

"Guilty?!" Chaewon raised her voice, her face turning red. "Of course, because you can fuck the others like common whores in need of cock, and I have to smile and act like it's nothing!" She gave you a little shove. "You think it doesn't hurt me to see you with them? It makes me sick! Sick!"

"Chaewon-ah! It's not all about you!" you yelled, hands outstretched. "Don't you understand? You're being a fucking selfish bitch and letting everything get ruined over a fucking jealousy scene!

"I..."

"Grow up and talk things over with me instead of letting things get to this point!" Fuck!" You slammed the side of your fist against the desk and turned your back to take a few steps away, feeling your head start to hurt.

Chaewon, instead of closing the distance between you, took a slight step back.

"Do something, then," she said, her voice shaking.

You stood very still, thinking you'd heard her wrong.

"Excuse me, what?" you said, slowly turning around and closing the distance between you.

"Do something," Chaewon repeated louder. "Be a damn man, and do something. You're the highest authority in this house, right? Do something."

You stood in front of her, staring into her eyes as your breathing grew labored. Rage took hold of you and clouded your thinking, so you didn't measure your strength when you grabbed her by the arms and slammed her against the wall on one side of the bed, smashing your lips against hers.

Chaewon moaned and grabbed at your shirt, tugging at it and biting your lower lip as you kissed her furiously. You wrapped your arms around her body, and she wrapped her arms around your neck, one hand in your hair and the other across your shoulders. She fought for control of the kiss, making your teeth clash and your tongues swirl. In the end, it was your determination to prove your dominance that allowed you to subdue her.

You grabbed her by the thighs and lifted her into the air, spinning her onto the bed and throwing her face up against the mattress. Chaewon trapped your torso with her strong thighs, hands on your shoulders as you exchanged saliva and heavy breaths.

In a pure surge of desire and anger combined, you ripped off Chaewon's shirt with a sharp upward jerk. Chaewon gasped, her small breasts covered by a black bra that you wanted to rip to shreds.

"You're going to learn who's boss, you fucking whore," you growled. "Open your mouth."

"Make me, asshole," Chaewon barked back. "You're not gonna boss me around after months of being a pussy."

In response, you slapped her firmly across her left cheek, making her moan. Then you grabbed a handful of her short brown hair, pulled her head back, and bit her exposed neck. Chaewon dug her nails into your shoulders and let out another moan, letting you trail kisses and sucks down to her chest. You slid your hands under her back, and after removing her bra, you took one of her breasts into your mouth.

Chaewon's back arched as you swirled your tongue around each nipple and sucked on them like never before. After leaving each mound covered in saliva, you slowly lowered your mouth between them until you reached her tummy, pausing there for a moment before moving to her lower abdomen and, with your hands on her waist, yanked her shorts and panties down her legs.

With her now wet pussy exposed, you wasted no time parting Chaewon's legs, pushing her thighs back and planting your mouth there, giving her an upward lick before devouring her silky folds, addictive not only for their texture but for their taste.

"Oh god," Chaewon moaned after a few seconds, as you sucked and licked her clit. "Stop being such a fucking weakling and fuck me already."

"Shut the fuck up," you snapped, and slapped her pussy. She moaned. "You're not in charge. Get it through your fucking head."

Before Chaewon could protest further, you sucked on your middle and ring fingers and slowly guided them into her tight pussy. Chaewon reached out and gripped strands of your hair as you began pumping your wrist, simultaneously licking her clit in rapid motions.

Chaewon writhed on the bed, her moans getting louder as you went faster, your sole goal being to make her explode as quickly as possible. You succeeded after a few seconds, when Chaewon tensed her thighs and exploded against your mouth, stifling sweet squeals of pleasure that she muffled against the forearm she was biting.

"Cum again," you said, in a low but commanding voice, still pumping your fingers even though Chaewon was still squirming.

"B-But! I'm still-"

"I said cum again."

Chaewon grabbed your hair with both hands, pulling hard. Not even a minute passed before your commands sank in and she came for the second time in a row, her body seized by a series of spasms that made her crumple the sheets beneath her.

"Good girl," you said, standing up while her legs were still shaking. "That's the least obedience I expect from now on."

Still somewhat dazed from climaxing twice in such a short amount of time, Chaewon remained silent as you removed your clothes. When you were completely naked, you climbed onto the bed with her and, kneeling beside her face, took your hard cock in one hand and forced it into her mouth.

Chaewon didn't protest and closed her lips around your cock with a moan, propping herself up on one elbow to grasp your shaft at the base and pump her head with long, hard pumps. Her control didn't last long, however, as you pulled a handful of her hair into a ponytail and began fucking her face.

"That's it, slut, take it all," you groaned, rapidly pumping your hips.

This wasn't anything new between the two of you, so she was able to take almost all of your cock before her gag reflex kicked in. Still, saliva slowly seeped from the corners of her lips and dripped down her chin, and it only got worse when, after a moment, you buried the entire length of your cock inside her mouth, resting it against her throat.

"Choke on it, bitch," you gasped, tightening your fingers in her hair, feeling her throat caress your tip.

Chaewon gagged against your cock, saliva spilling from her mouth in thick drops that fell onto the sheets. Her nails dug into your buttocks, a signal to stop that you ignored at first. Only a few desperate slaps on your thigh finally made you give her a break, letting her cough and catch her breath.

"You fucking..."

You returned the words to her mouth with another sharp slap to her cheek. Chaewon groaned, looking up at you with eyes filled with pleasure and anger.

"I don't want to hear you, shut the fuck up," you said, going to kneel between her legs.

"Fuck you, motherf... mmmgh!" Chaewon squealed as you took your cock inside her in one swift motion. "God, why can't you just be mine?"

You placed your hands on her thighs and pressed them back, fucking her slowly at that angle you knew she loved. Funny, but yes: even mad as hell at her, you cared that she enjoyed it.

"Because I'm not interested in belonging to a selfish bitch," you said, jaw clenched, panting at how good the way her pussy squeezed your cock so deliciously always felt. You didn't really think that, but it was the first thing your anger put in line.

Chaewon grabbed her legs behind the knees, keeping them spread. She moaned as you went faster and pounded her against the bed.

"Those bitches don't deserve you!!" Chaewon protested amidst her moans.

"And do you?"

"At least I truly love you!" Chaewon squealed, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. "Why doesn't that matter to you?!"

You pressed both of Chaewon's thighs together and rested both of her heels on your right shoulder, then leaned forward and pushed her legs against her body with your hands flat on the mattress.

"Then why did you let all this happen?!" you yelled through a grunt, reaching deep into her pussy with each thrust. "You don't do that shit to someone you love!!"

"And you don't deliberately fuck that person's groupmates either!"

That was the last thing Chaewon screamed before cumming again, suffocating your cock with her tight walls. She shuddered beneath you and gripped your forearms, every muscle in her body contracting in an orgasm that wasn't half as strong as what you knew you could achieve in her.

"If that bothered you, you could talk to me, Kim Chaewon," you murmured, fucking her slowly. "Talking. You know what that is, right?" You slowly raised your voice. "Talking instead of putting the fucking executives on our fucking heels!! What the fuck were you thinking?! Ugh!"

You pulled out of her pussy and grabbed her forearm to force her to stand up off the bed, carry her to the desk, and bend her against it. Chaewon braced her hands on the surface, crumpling some sheet music and knocking a couple of pens out of their containers to the floor.

"I don't have to go around telling you what the fuck to do and what not!" Chaewon yelled back, a moan escaping her throat as you came back inside her. "You're a fucking adult and you know exactly what you're doing!"

"And that excuses you from being fucking negligent?" you asked, hands gripping her waist as you pounded her pussy again with fast, hard thrusts. "I understand that you're mad at me, but hiding something like that from me? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"You had to wake up somehow, you fucking asshole! Mmmgh!" Chaewon squealed, slumping her upper torso against the desk, knocking more of her things over. "I hope it teaches you to think with your head and not your dick!"

You reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair. Chaewon moaned as you pulled it back, causing her to lift her chest slightly off the desk.

"So you're not even sorry?" you growled, your brow furrowed.

"I won't fucking be sorry until you are!" Chaewon snapped back. "And believe me, you have plenty of reasons to apologize!"

You wished your mind had come up with a response to that, but all you could muster was a resounding slap to her right buttock that reverberated throughout the room and made her scream. More like those landed, on each buttock. One after the other until her ass was tinted a bright red, making it look like a jelly cake that you jiggled with each violent thrust.

"Keep going, keep going, keep going!!" Chaewon squealed, her hands braced against the wall in front of her. "Keep going, daddy, please!"

Chaewon exploded within seconds, in an electrifying orgasm that still wasn't the strongest you could get out of her, so you lifted one of her knees and placed it on the edge of the desk to adjust the angle and continue fucking her through a climax that still didn't relax her body.

"Oh fuckkk!!" Chaewon slammed her hand on the table, resting her forehead on one of her notebooks. "That feels so good!"

You gritted your teeth, sweat dripping from your temples and onto your chest as you redoubled your efforts. You squeezed her left buttock with your hand, and with the other, you had her behind the neck, both grips tight and rough. The railing continued until Chaewon came again, and this time you smiled when her neck arched back and she screamed at the ceiling.

"My god!!" Chaewon growled, her pussy squeezing you as her whole body shook. "How can I hate you when you drive me so fucking crazy, son of a bitch!"

"I'm the one who should hate you for what you did," you gasped, sliding a hand from her ass to her waist and pulling out of her pussy.

"And yet, you don't," Chaewon turned to look at you over her shoulder, straightening her back slightly with her hands resting on the desk again. "I'm everything you've ever wanted, and that's why you love me."

"Then you understand how disappointing it is for me that you would hide something like that out of jealousy," you said, unclenching your jaw and calming your breathing. The anger was slowly dissipating. "I… didn't expect that from you, Chaewon,” you shook your head. “You're better than that."

Chaewon opened her mouth to say something, but only a stutter came out. Then her eyes glazed over, and she wrinkled her nose in an attempt not to cry. She was realizing.

"I-I..." Chaewon pouted and looked away, two tears falling down her cheeks. "God, I'm sorry."

That looked more like the Chaewon you knew, one who put her pride aside and was mature enough to know how to give in when necessary. But despite it all, it broke your heart to watch her cry. Always.

You sighed and tilted your head, watching her as she wiped away her tears to no avail, as she sobbed on and on. Chaewon then straightened her back, turned around, and snuggled up to your chest with both arms in front of her.

"I'm so sorry, I really am," Chaewon sobbed. "You don't deserve to go through this because of me."

You swallowed and wrapped your arms around her, holding her close. You stroked her back and hair to comfort her.

"I'm sorry too," you said quietly, staring into space. "For... acting without thinking about how you'd feel."

"What I did is much worse!" Chaewon whimpered. "I messed up, and now we're going to be in trouble!"

"Chaewon-ah, please breathe," you said, seeing that she couldn't find relief from her tears. "There's time to make things right. We just have to absorb the blow and improve. It won't be more than a scolding."

That seemed to calm her down a bit. Chaewon made an effort to regulate her breathing and hold back her sobs, after leaving your chest wet with her tears.

"You think so?" Chaewon looked up at you. "I really don't want this to end because of me. I've worked so hard in this group, and... and..."

You cupped her face and kissed her gently. Chaewon held onto your wrists, kissing back.

"We both made mistakes, okay?" you said, gently holding her face. "You've already apologized for yours, and I apologize for mine."

"Can you really accept my apology? What I did..." Chaewon looked to the side and slowly shook her head. "God, I'm really sorry."

"I can accept them as long as you commit to putting things in order. To really put things in order like the leader you are," you did a pause. "Can you accept mine?"

"I can accept them..." Chaewon now looked at you. "But you know what that entails."

"I... I think I know," you nodded.

"We have terms, then?"

"They're going to riot about it, and we will have to find a solution for them, but we have terms."

"Great," Chaewon sighed and rested her forehead against your chest. "I'm still mad at you, though."

"I know, I know," you said. "Can I do anything to remedy it, even just a little?"

Chaewon looked up at you, and slowly reached down to grab your cock and rub it.

"Fuck my ass," she said, her hand sliding down your cock, wet with her own fluids. "You've never done it, and I think this is a good time to."

You chuckled.

"Really? Right now?"

"Well... you're not doing it with Kura anymore," Chaewon scribbled on your chest with a finger from her other hand while giving you a lazy handjob. "So you better get used to doing it with me."

Damn it, you weren't going to fuck Kura's ass again. The thought was painful. The sacrifice was more than necessary, though.

"So be it, then," you said, and slid a hand behind her to squeeze her ass. "Turn around."

Chaewon obeyed and bent back against the desk, her fists resting on it. She pushed her round ass back, pressing the back of your cock between her buttocks. There was no lubricant on hand, so you'd have to settle for natural methods, using saliva and her own fluids to prepare her ass.

"Mmm, fuck," Chaewon moaned, straining as two of your fingers made their way inside her butthole. "Slow, slow."

"Haven't you done this before?" you asked, carefully stretching her insides. "Not even with toys?"

"Those three have put the wrong ideas in your head, honey," Chaewon sighed, your fingers now fully inside her. "Not all girls are sluts who like things up their asses."

"I had to ask," you shrugged. "Do you feel ready yet, sweetie?"

"I think so..."

You removed your fingers from inside her ass and grabbed your cock, pressing it against it. For her first time, her hole yielded quite easily to your length, slowly filling it. Chaewon dropped her chest onto the desk.

"Well, it's not as bad as I thought..." Chaewon murmured. "Wait stop!" she said, when you were only inches away from being completely inside her.

"Is that your limit, baby?" you asked, your hands on her waist. "You can relax, I won't push any further."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, darling," Chaewon sighed, looking at you over her shoulder. "I know Kura can take it all, but I..."

"Kim Chaewon," you grabbed her neck and pulled her closer so she was looking into your eyes. "Never, and I repeat, never. Compare yourself to other girls."

"But..."

"Never. You drive me fucking crazy, no matter what. I've told you that more than once, I’m pretty sure."

Chaewon remained silent, and looking into your eyes, she pushed her hips back and drove the rest of your cock into her ass with a small cry of pain. You took her hands and intertwined your fingers together.

"Hey!" You frowned, concerned by her pained face but also delighted by how good it felt. "Baby, you didn't have to do that..."

"Shut up," Chaewon reached behind her to cover your mouth, her eyes closed as she adjusted to having you inside her ass. "You shouldn't have said that: you forced me to prove how much you deserve the best of me."

Chaewon took your hand from her mouth and returned it to the desk.

"Are you sure it doesn't hurt?" you asked.

"Just move, asshole," Chaewon replied. "I'll get over it."

Somewhat hesitantly, you began to move slowly, your hands on her waist. Your cock slid in and out of her with some friction, lacking proper lubrication, but that didn't stop it from feeling simply delicious after just a few pumps. For Chaewon, it was a similar sensation: over time, her expression softened, slowly transforming to evoke the pleasure she felt.

"Is that better, darling?" you gasped, one hand slowly moving up her smooth, beautiful back to rest on one of her shoulders. Now your rhythm was steady, not too fast for fear of hurting her.

"Oh yeah, it's feeling like I thought it would," Chaewon replied. "You can move faster."

You did so, gradually picking up a steady rhythm until you were slamming your pelvis against her ass with each thrust. Chaewon's moans grew louder and louder, letting you know that ecstasy was taking over her and that she was beginning to enjoy every second of it.

"Do you like it, sweetheart?" you asked, gaping, your fingers clutching her shoulder and waist.

"Yes daddy," Chaewon nodded quickly, gripping the opposite edge of the desk. "I love it."

"Can I go faster?"

"I'm not in pain anymore... so use me however you wish."

Those magic words were like gunpowder to the flames, allowing you to slip out of your restraints and give her a good pounding against the desk. All Chaewon did was moan, squirm, and throw even more things off the desk, including HYBE's letter. The room erupted into a perfect cacophony of flesh against flesh and moans.

Interrupted by the sound of the door opening to your left.

You and Chaewon quickly turned your heads and turned your backs to hide your private parts, seeing Eunchae standing under the door, her eyes wide open, fascinated by the scene before her.

"Hong Eunchae!!" Chaewon squealed, frowning, her face flushed. "What did I tell you about knocking on the damn door?! Get lost!!"

"No... this is entertaining," Eunchae said, looking down—probably at your ass—with the door still wide open behind her.

"God, I said get out!" Chaewon yelled, grabbing a pencil to throw at her. She missed badly. "And close the damn door already!"

You grabbed Chaewon's wrist and leaned close to her ear.

"Let her stay," you muttered, glancing at Eunchae out of the corner of your eye.

Chaewon glared at you like you'd gone crazy.

"Huh?! Didn't you learn anything from our argument?"

"This is our chance to start weeding," you said even more quietly so Eunchae wouldn't hear. "Trust me. I have a plan."

Chaewon stared at Eunchae for a moment, rolled her eyes with a snort, and stared at the ceiling.

"Okay, Eunchae," she said loudly. "You can stay. But for God's sake, come in and close the damn door!"

Eunchae hurried into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. You then carried Chaewon to the bed, putting her on her hands and knees as she faced Eunchae, whose eyes lit up at the sight of your naked bodies.

"Should I just... stay around here?" Eunchae asked nervously, pressing herself against the wall next to the door with her hands behind her back.

"If that's what you want," you shrugged, and as you looked down at Chaewon, you thrust back into her ass with a single gentle thrust.

Chaewon moaned, her ass raised from you and her back arched. You left your hands on her buttocks and went back to fucking her with the same intensity as a moment ago, only now looking at Eunchae as you did so.

Eunchae watched intently, leaning against the wall, her breathing quickening as she brought a hand to her crotch to touch herself over her shorts.

"Enjoying this, huh?" you asked between gasps, watching her rub circles on her slit.

"You two look... so hot, yeah," Eunchae nodded, biting her lower lip as Chaewon whimpered in pleasure, seconds before experiencing her first anal orgasm.

You gripped Chaewon's waist with both hands, thrusting slowly and deeply as she moaned and writhed, crumpling the sheets beneath her hands. Her ass suffocated your cock at one point, forcing you to stop and enjoy the sensation.

When Chaewon's orgasm passed, you grabbed her shoulders and straightened her back to press her against your chest. She turned her face, kissing you as she met your lips. You wrapped your arms around her, one hand playing with one of her nipples and the other between her thighs, rubbing circles on her clit. Then you pulled your cock out of her ass and quickly slid it back inside her tight, warm pussy. Chaewon moaned against your lips, placing her hands over yours, and fell forward again as you began pounding her pussy with fierce thrusts that made her shake like a rag doll.

In front of you, Eunchae had one hand inside her shorts and panties, fingering herself faster. She let out small, almost inaudible moans.

"Look at that, baby," you told Chaewon, and you slapped her ass so she arched and looked at Eunchae. "The brat is horny."

"Manager-nim... you move so well," Eunchae said with a small sigh, her cheeks flushed, moving her wrist faster inside her shorts. "When are you going to...?"

Perhaps sensing what her question was going to be, your body tingled to let you know you were close to cumming. So, grabbing Chaewon by the arms to keep her back straight, you pumped up your energy to give her a few last wild thrusts before erupting inside her pussy.

"Mmmgh fuck!" you groaned, balls deep inside her as you filled every corner of her pussy with slow pumps.

"Fuck..." Eunchae moaned. "Is he...?"

"Cumming inside me, yeah," Chaewon nodded, looking into your eyes with her mouth agape. "And he's cumming a lot."

Your head was spinning at that moment, overwhelmed by pleasure. Chaewon fell chest first onto the bed as you released her arms, now giving her buttocks a hard squeeze. Her grippy pussy was also throbbing around you, and you looked down before pulling out of her and watching your cum spill out of it.

Chaewon slid an arm underneath herself and with her fingers scooped a good amount of cum from between her folds.

"Baby," Chaewon looked at Eunchae. "Could you pass me a wet wipe?" She pointed to her nightstand, and as Eunchae watched, she brought her fingers to her mouth to eat your cum.

"Y-yeah, sure," Eunchae nodded, practically trotting over to the nightstand to grab the pack of wet wipes and hand them to Chaewon, her gaze fixed on your fluid-soaked cock.

While you sat down to rest and catch your breath, Chaewon took a brief moment to clean herself up. A minute later, Chaewon tossed the two wet towels she'd used, crumpled into her trash can and looked at Eunchae.

"So? What are you waiting for?" Chaewon asked. "Come here, cutie."

Eunchae kicked off her slippers and climbed onto the bed, kneeling beside you. Chaewon knelt in front of her and, taking her by the shoulders, led her into a gentle kiss that slowly turned passionate. Eunchae was visibly nervous, but Chaewon was sweet to her the whole time until she warmed up and was able to relax.

Chaewon grabbed Eunchae's crop top and slowly pulled it over her head, revealing the pastel pink bra underneath.

"Can I take that off too?" Chaewon asked, her hands behind Eunchae's back.

Eunchae nodded, and Chaewon unclasped her bra so it fell onto the mattress. Eunchae's tits were even smaller than Zuha's, but they looked soft, and her nipples were small and pretty. Chaewon brought one to her mouth, making Eunchae moan and grab the sides of her head.

"Unnie, touch me down there too..." Eunchae moaned, twirling strands of Chaewon's hair around her fingers.

"Hm?" Chaewon looked up with a nipple in her mouth. "Like, here?"

Chaewon slipped her hand inside Eunchae's shorts and panties, and you watched as she reached her pussy, making Eunchae roll her eyes as she circled her slit with her fingers.

"Oh yeah, just like that," Eunchae sighed, as Chaewon continued sucking and licking her small tits. "You can undress me too."

"I'm a little busy," Chaewon replied, kissing between her breasts. "Manager-nim, will you help me?"

You looked at Eunchae silently, and only when she nodded in approval did you knelt up to go behind her and pull both her shorts and panties down to her knees. Eunchae gasped, feeling your cock brush against one of her buttocks. Chaewon, for her part, arched her back and lowered her kisses to Eunchae's tummy..

"Just relax, princess," Chaewon said, looking into her eyes. "We're going to make you feel good."

Eunchae reached behind her to cup the back of your head, while Chaewon inserted two saliva-stained fingers into her pussy. She let out a moan, and you noticed a slight tug on your hair from her, a signal you took as a green light to bury your face in her long neck and shower it with kisses.

"Can I touch you, sweetheart?" you asked in Eunchae's ear.

"I can literally feel your cock against my ass, manager-nim," she replied, turning her head to look into your eyes. "I don't even know why you're asking."

Then Eunchae subtly joined her lips with yours, in a tender kiss you hadn't expected from her, considering the way she'd been behaving all these days. You placed both hands on her small waist, then moved them to different places: the left one to her tits, playing with one of her nipples between your fingers, and the right one between her legs to rub her clitoris.

Chaewon began slowly pumping her fingers in and out of Eunchae, who moaned against your lips at the double stimulus that made her squirm her hips and buck slightly. Soon, Eunchae's breathing became heavier as Chaewon fingered her faster and you rubbed faster, pushing her hips back to crush the back of your cock between her nude, soft buttocks.

"Does that feel good?" you softly said against her lips.

"So, so good," Eunchae moaned, her eyebrows raised and her mouth gaping. "I think... I think I'm gonna... Oh lord!"

Eunchae tightened her fingers in your hair as she came with a soft moan, her body trembling against yours. You moved your fingers slower, and Chaewon pulled her fingers out of her to go down a little further and lick her pussy with gentle licks. 

"I want you to... eat me," Eunchae managed to say in the midst of her climax. "Can you?"

"I'll take care of it," you replied, taking her hand and leading her to lie down on one of the pillows.

Eunchae made herself comfortable with a pillow under her head, right in the center of the bed. You got on top of her, and after a small, warm kiss on her lips, you slowly moved down her upper torso, stopping at her tummy to lick and kiss it. Then you went a little lower, now between her thighs, pressing them back and bringing your mouth to her pussy.

"Oh my... so good," Eunchae sighed, arching her back and grabbing your hair.

Chaewon joined you and lay down next to Eunchae to kiss her lips. Then she moved down her neck, stopping at her tits and sucking on them again, one hand coming down to join you as you ate her pussy with slow licks, soft kisses, and gentle squeezes of her thigh.

Eunchae's moans grew louder as you let go of the gentleness and began to eat her pussy the way you really knew how, resulting in another orgasm that had her whimpering against Chaewon's lips and cuddling her like a teddy bear.

"Mmm, I think it's time for the main attraction," you said, wiping your chin as you knelt between Eunchae's spread legs. "Do you want to do it?"

Eunchae broke away from Chaewon's lips and looked into your eyes, then at your cock just above her pussy. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed and her breathing ragged, visibly very horny.

"Yes... I do," Eunchae nodded. "Please fuck me, manager-nim."

You took your cock and pressed the tip between her folds, but instead of taking it inside, you rubbed it up and down between them.

"Why should I?" you asked.

Eunchae frowned, confused. Beside her, Chaewon, on the other hand, gave a small smile, knowing where this was going.

"Well... because I'm naked in front of you and you just have to put it in?" Eunchae retorted.

"Indeed," you nodded. "But I'd be giving you what you want. Why would I give you what you want like you deserve it?"

"Oh come on, manager-nim!" Eunchae protested, clutching the pillow under her head with one hand. "Don't be like that! I'm sorry, okay?"

"Your apologies aren't enough, I need something more."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Eunchae tilted her head and grabbed your cock, trying to push it inside her. "Just do it!"

You grabbed her wrist and stopped her, doing it yourself, but you only got the tip inside. Eunchae twisted her hips in a desperate attempt to push more inside her.

"I need you to promise me that you'll start behaving," you said, with a stern tone in your voice that you hoped would work. "And that you'll start respecting my and Chaewon's authority, no matter what."

"And if I refuse, what are you supposed to do?" Eunchae challenged you.

You shrugged and pulled your tip out from between her folds. You made as if to get up from the bed.

"No, stop!" Eunchae stopped you, trapping you with her legs around your waist. "Oh my god, I can't believe you coerced me into this!"

"It's your fault for being nosy and not knocking before entering," you said. "And now you only have two possible choices. Decide."

"Fuck, fine! I promise!" Eunchae said. "Just fuck me!"

"You promise what?"

Eunchae rolled her eyes and growled in frustration.

"I promise I'll behave and respect your authority no matter what!" Eunchae finally blurted out.

A surge of relief washed over your body, making you take a deep breath. Nothing assured you she wasn't lying, but it was a start.

"Good girl," you smirked. "It wasn't that hard, was it?"

"Shut up."

"It's weird to ask, but are you a virgin?"

"That's none of your business!" Eunchae snapped.

"Just asking, rude ass."

Now certain you'd gotten what you wanted from her, you grabbed your cock by the base and slowly guided it inside Eunchae. The absurdly tightness of her pussy led you to believe she was indeed a virgin, but when you looked up, you didn't notice her even the slightest bit worried about it. A pained expression was what you would have expected, but Eunchae just seemed to be enjoying every inch of you filling her.

"Damn, look at you," Chaewon said from beside Eunchae, kissing her neck. "Taking all that cock in exchange for not being such a rebellious brat anymore. Don't you think that's a reasonable exchange?"

"I'm not so sure you know?" Eunchae retorted, when you were halfway inside. "But I don't think I’ll regret it anytime soon."

You sincerely hoped she wouldn't, because you wanted to get that matter with her over with so you'd only have to worry about the other three musketers.

After a few seconds of slow thrusting, your cock was buried deep inside Eunchae's pussy, which felt like a tight, warm glove enveloping you perfectly. You placed her right heel on your shoulder, and with your hand on her left thigh, you began to move your hips.

"Oh my god, Eunchae," you sighed. "You're crushing me, damn it."

"Yeah? Does it feel good?" Eunchae asked as you took the entirety of your length in and out of her with each slow pump.

"It feels amazing," you nodded, squeezing the flesh of her soft thigh beneath your fingers. "And for you?"

"You have no idea," she sighed, letting out a long moan.

Chaewon ran a hand down Eunchae's tummy and between her legs to rub her clit with swift, agile movements of her wrist. That urged you to go faster. Eunchae found Chaewon's lips again and moaned against them as you began to fuck her with swift thrusts, her hands cupping her unnie's face.

Not wanting to keep her waiting, you reached out and slid a hand between Chaewon's buttocks and found her pussy, inserting two full fingers inside her. Chaewon moaned and pulled away from Eunchae's lips, watching as you moved your wrist as you fucked Eunchae's tight pussy at a perfect pace.

The room was soon filled with both of their moans and the occasional thump of your pelvis against Eunchae's crotch. The two of you merged again in a kiss, and the first to cum was the maknae, squealing and squirming her hips. Her pussy felt even tighter that way, throbbing around your shaft and wetting it with her warm fluids.

After a few seconds, you pulled out of her and lay behind Chaewon, placing a few kisses on her shoulders.

"Come ride me, my love," you whispered in her ear.

Chaewon quickly pulled away from Eunchae and straddled you, taking your cock straight and impaling herself on it in a single motion that made you both moan. She placed her hands on your chest, and with her face only inches from yours, she began to rapidly move her hips to fuck herself against you.

Eunchae snuggled up close to you, making you turn around for a kiss. You gasped against her lips, and she caressed your abdomen. Chaewon then began to go faster, straightening her back to jump on your cock. Eunchae knelt right next to her, and returning the favor, began to kiss both her neck and her tits until she came.

Chaewon's nails dug into your abdomen as her slim, sexy body writhed on top of you, her hips grinding back and forth with your cock buried deep inside her. Soon, she got off of you, and Eunchae lay down next to you again, this time on her side. You turned toward her, and with her back pressed against your chest and your arms wrapped around her body, you went back inside her pussy.

Your lips and Eunchae's met again, this time in a fiery, heated kiss. Chaewon lay in front of her, intertwining their legs together as you fucked her pussy with hard, deep pumps. A few seconds later, you broke away from Eunchae's lips and brought Chaewon's face closer. Eunchae tilted her neck toward you, enough so the three of you could share a sloppy three-way kiss.

"Oh my fucking god, I'm going crazy," Eunchae moaned, breaking away from the kiss. "Keep going, oppa... god, keep going, keep going!"

You planted one foot on the mattress and gripped Eunchae's waist, slamming your pelvis against her buttocks and making her whimper in pleasure until she came in a maelstrom of moans and little whimpers. The way her pussy clenched around you made you moan and realize how close you were to cumming too.

"Eunchae, I'm really close..." you gasped, squeezing her against you as she writhed in pleasure. "Where...?"

"Out, oppa, please," Eunchae replied with a moan, clutching your forearm. "Not inside."

Exactly the response you expected. You buried your face in her neck, making her feel your hot, labored breathing as you resumed the rhythm in and out of her. Eunchae reached behind her and gripped your head, tugging at your hair. A minute later, you moaned as you felt that delicious tingle travel down to your lower region, and just before cumming, you quickly pulled out your cock, pressed the tip against her ass, and masturbated until you exploded.

"Mmmh fuck!" you groaned, squeezing Eunchae tightly against you as you shot a thick load that stained her waist and hips, and completely filled her ass.

"Mmm," Eunchae moaned, watching you cum, stroking your hair. "It feels so warm against my skin..."

"Let me do you a favor," Chaewon said, kneeling up to bend over Eunchae's ass and wipe your cum off with her tongue while it was still coming out from your tip. "Stay still."

Chaewon did an impeccable job cleaning every stained spot on Eunchae's skin, and when she was done, she brought your cock to her mouth to suck every inch slowly. When she left you glistening, with only a light layer of saliva, she lay down next to Eunchae, staring at the ceiling.

Silence then reigned in the room, your breathing slowly returning to normal. A while later, Chaewon sat up, covering her breasts with a blanket, and looked at you.

"This is the first and last time this happens, okay?" she asked. "You know exactly why."

"I know," you nodded, part of your head resting on Eunchae's. "You can trust me."

"Very well. The ship will stay afloat, then."

"Look on the bright side, we've already taken a step. It's one less weed to cut."

"Oppa... unnie," Eunchae said in a small, tired voice. "Please don't let the others find out about this. I'm a little embarrassed that they'll get that image of me."

You hoped Sakura and Yunjin weren't paying attention to the noise because of how high they must be, because otherwise, they would surely have realized it was two pairs of moans, not just one, and immediately associated it with Eunchae.

"They won't, sweetie," you replied, stroking her hair. "Don't worry."

You then felt a calmness you hadn't felt in a long time. HYBE's letter was still pounding in your head, but patching things up with Chaewon and putting Eunchae back in line was definitely a turning point you were grateful for.

Chaewon stood up and began searching for her clothes with slow movements. You stared at her, noticing a big change in her expression. Her anger and resentment had definitely disappeared. Eunchae, for her part, just squeezed your hand with her eyes closed, relaxing.

Then your phone rang with a notification. You looked for it, but the noise had come from the floor. Chaewon ended up passing it to you, and you sighed in relief when you read what you'd received.

"What's wrong?" Chaewon asked.

"HYBE postponed the meeting to Monday. We have time to sort this whole mess out."

Chaewon mimicked your sigh, putting on her panties and T-shirt.

"Thank the Lord," she said, lying back down.

Eunchae sat up a minute later and got out of bed to find her clothes. Her cheeks were still flushed, and she glanced at you, embarrassed.

"I'm... sorry about the beer, oppa," she said, putting on her panties and bra. "And everything. I promise to improve and help you with the others. To... I don't know, make them reconsider."

Chaewon nodded, a proud little smile on her face, a mirror of yours.

"Thanks, Manchae," you said, watching her get dressed and imitating her, putting on your boxers and sweatpants. "I really appreciate it."

"It’s nothing. But can we take a nap?" she asked, already dressed. "I'm exhausted."

As soon as she said that, Chaewon got closer to you and cuddled up to you.

"Yes, but he's mine," Chaewon said. "You lie down over there," she pointed to the other side of the bed.

Eunchae rolled her eyes, shook her head, and lay down with you two.

But not even five minutes had passed when you heard a sudden commotion in another room: music now playing incredibly loudly. The ones responsible? Probably Bob Marley and Willie Nelson.

You sighed against Chaewon's back, realizing you had a lot of work to do.

[yup-thats-me]

—Jelly • K. Hongjoong

⋆˙⟡pairing: bf!Hongjoong x fem!reader ⋆˙⟡summary: ❝It wasn't your plan to run into your old crush before a date with your lover. but you couldn't lie, seeing the evil squirrel getting jelly did feel nice❞ ⋆˙⟡warnings: none ⋆˙⟡a/n: had fun writing this. lmk how you guys enjoyed it :3

₊˚⊹𐙚°｡⋆♡

"Joongie," You ask, mischief sparkling in your eyes. "Are you jealous?"

And Hongjoong turns, eyes boring into yours. "What if I am?" he asks quitely. "God forbid a man gets angry that some asshole tries flirting with his girl."

You giggle, hitting him lightly. "Babe," you manage to say between laughs. "He was not flirting with me."

"Uh, pretty sure he was," he pointed. You smile, poking his cheek.

Hongjoong being as busy as he was, it took him a really long time to plan this date with you.

Coming home to see you fast asleep on the couch because you stayed up late waiting for him, keeping away from him while he worked, only giving him coffee for breaks and stole small pecks, it pained Hongjoong.

He too wanted to hold you close and eat dinner together, have long talks about life and nothing at all. So when he finally found a day off in his schedule before the tour starts again, he spent days meticulously planning each and everything for today.

What places you'll visit, the restaurants booked, outfits picked beforehand. All of that for to chat with your old crush for twenty minutes.

"Joongie," you start, pouting. "Why are you so mad, though? I'm yours and pretty much the entire world knows that."

Hongjoong turns, eyes boring into yours.

"Its not about that, Y/n!" He pouted.

Running into a crush from school was not in your plan. Having bumped into him in a coffee shop, all those memories came flooding back. The days you had spent researching for his favorite color at school, sneaking peeks while he played basketball. The man was a catch, you'd give him that.

But Hongjoong had not failed to see how the now-irrelevant-guy's jaw clenched when you introduced the singer as your boyfriend. Hongjoong snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Giving the man a tight smile, he offered his hand.

"Kim Hongjoong, nice to meet you."

And you could sense something shift in the air. What you didn't see was the two men had each other's hands in a death-grip, jaw clenched. As they parted, their hands were red.

As you talked, the guy tried several times to get your number on the pretense of ''catching up." And maybe you would've given to him if not for his request of meeting you alone. Without your lover who's right beside you.

Being you, you nudged Hongjoong lightly as you gave him some made-up number on the spot. Those days have passed. He means nothing now. And if you did in fact want to catch up, you could do it with your other friends.

Hongjoong couldn't lie, he did feel a surge of pride when he saw how smoothly you handled the situation.

But now alone with you beside him, the producer now realized that he still could lose you. In his mind, you can still leave him after four loving years sent together. No matter how many times he tells himself that you won't, the brain is such a thing that does not know to shut up.

He spoke after a long period of silence. "...Would you have gone with him if I wasn't around?" His voice slow and meek.

You shake your head. "You think?" You say, smiling gently. "He's history, my love," hands clasping with his.

"He was and is just a girlhood crush. You, darling," your hands caressing his cheek. "How could I leave someone so wonderful? You're my life, don't you know that?"

The sincerity in your voice made it impossible to not meet your gaze. Breathing softly, Hongjoong brushes hair out of your face, pressing his lips to yours.

And before you could react, the man is leant back on his seat, smiling smugly.

"At least give me a warning!"

do not copy, steal or translate my work on any other sites. All rights belongs to yup-thats-me© on tumblr

⋆. 𐙚 ˚reqs are openᝰ.ᐟ

[borathae]

Boyfriends? | JJK x MYG

“Yoongi doesn’t do labels, while Jungkook loves labels. So one night, he asks Yoongi ‘what are we?’, hoping that the last four years together weren’t just casual for him.”

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Vampire!Jungkook

Genre: established relationship!AU, Fluff, Slice of Life, slight suggestive themes

Warnings: just some anxious thoughts, this is a post sex cuddles scene, Koo being a little brat, Yoongi being a fond brat tamer, he tickles him hehe, snuggles & kisses, also! mention of blood drinking as part of his training to become a good vampire <3

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on an alternative fictional universe and does not correlate with any real life people. I do not support the shipping of the actual members.

Wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: i love sanguis!yoonkook so much :( omfg this hurt me because i just love them so much and my heart exploded :( istfg this break was so good for me, i have so many new ideas already heheh i can't wait to bring a very lore-y multi chaptered fic very soon hoohoh <3 but for now enjoy this lil yoonkoo fluff <3 also! whenever i write something for them just know that i am channeling hyyh!yoonkook 💔

Yoongi doesn’t define his sexuality. Neither his romantic attraction. He thinks that it is a rather stupid thing to do. He never truly understood the appeal of it nor felt it necessary to do.

“Why should I put a label on myself just so other people are satisfied?”

Because that is what it is for him. Satisfaction of other people. He should put himself into a box just so they can sleep better at night. Well, fuck them. Yoongi is way too old to live for strangers. He knows what he likes and other people can get fucked. They’ll find out who he likes when he allows it.

Jungkook defines his sexuality. And his romantic attraction. For most of his life, he felt like he didn’t belong. Into society, into groups, into life. So learning control and finally being able to be part of something again, Jungkook also feels it important to define who he is.

“I can finally be part of a group. I’m so happy.”

Because that’s what he is these days. Happy. A very happy bisexual man who doesn’t care about the gender of his lovers and who falls for personality.

And so it happens that “I hate labels”-Yoongi and “I love my label”-Jungkook are dating. At least Jungkook thinks that they are. They never really defined it – put a label on it so to speak.

But it must be that they are dating. After all, they are sharing a blanket as they are relaxing in front of the fireplace. They each only wear boxers and a tanktop which in itself is such an intimate look to share. The rug under their bodies is soft and heaps of pillows surround them.

Yoongi is using a few of them to keep himself propped up as he writes anecdotes in the book he is reading. Jungkook is lying on his tummy, watching the flames dance. Music is playing. Lofi hip-hop. Sometimes, he feels Yoongi’s fingertips dance down his back. It makes him shiver every time it happens. Jungkook feels exhausted, but he can’t fall asleep.

He flips his head to the other side, looking up at Yoongi.

The latter notices and gives him a glance. He runs his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, making him shudder in a good way.

��How is your head doing?” he asks.

“Heavy.”

“But no pain?”

He shakes it, “no, just so heavy. Hyung, it’s so heavy a-and I’m so tired.”

“Relax, bub. That’s normal.”

Yoongi is Jungkook’s mentor. Before Yoongi, Jungkook was unable to exist within the human world because he would have ripped through anything that breathed. With Yoongi’s help, he learned how to be normal again and because the road to perfection wasn’t finished yet, they used tonight to train.

“You are ready for the next step in mastering your urges”, Yoongi told him and then monitored Jungkook as he drank from a blood bag filled with human blood.

Up until this point, they merely trained with animal blood. At first Jungkook was very confused, “but I thought that I shouldn’t drink human blood? At all. Never.”

To which Yoongi assured him, “completely staying away from it, will only do the opposite. You need to learn how to handle it, so that if you accidentally drink it, you don’t become violent.”

With Yoongi’s reassurance, Jungkook choked down the blood deliciously and if it wasn’t for the older vampire, he would have lost control.

But he didn’t. Yoongi took his mind off of it in the typical, amazing way Yoongi often takes Jungkook’s mind off the bloodlust. And Jungkook wanted it. It felt so good. Quite frankly, he didn’t want it to stop.

Yoongi pulls his hand back and continues to scribble in his book. Jungkook is thinking. Yoongi calls him bub and bun and Kookie, but does it mean anything? Yoongi allows him to cuddle into him, but does he want the same? Yoongi fucks him, but does the sex even mean anything to him?

It has been two years since the world became peaceful and four years since they met and not once has this relationship been defined. Yoongi doesn’t call Jungkook his boyfriend. He calls him “my boy” or “my Kookie.” But never my boyfriend. What is he is just a good friend to him? What if Yoongi doesn’t want to put a label on them?

“Yoongi?”

“Yes, bub?”

“Are we dating?”

Yoongi lowers the book, “what do you mean?”

“Am I your boyfriend?”

Yoongi widens his eyes, blinking them in confusion.

“Why are you asking that all of a sudden?”

“Just feeling anxious.”

“Jungkookie, hey”, Yoongi softens his voice, “just relax. You’re okay, everything will be okay.”

“Please don’t avoid my question”, Jungkook insists anxiously. Is this it? Four years of intimacy, of building trust and bonding and it never meant the same to Yoongi?

“Of course you’re my boyfriend.”

Jungkook’s chest instantly stops tightening. His body tingles.

“You silly boy, do you seriously think I’m like this with someone I’m not dating?”

“You’re a really kind person.”

Yoongi chuckles, eyes soft in adoration. He pinches Jungkook’s cheek.

“You little bun, that’s not the same.”

“We never made it official.”

“I didn’t think it necessary. I thought it was pretty clear that we are dating once this”, he gestures between them, “became regular.”

“I guess, but I was thinking. About labels and how you hate them and yeah. I got scared that we aren’t official for you.”

“We are.” Yoongi pushes the pillows aside and lies down to face Jungkook. He tugs a strand of hair behind his ear. “If I’m not showing it enough for you, you have to tell me. I’m not good with reading signs or getting hidden messages. You gotta tell me directly what you want.”

“I know.”

“So? Do you want me to show it more?”

“No, you’re showing me that you love me. I think I just needed to hear it tonight.”

“I understand. You can tell me if you need that. You know me, I’m not gonna recite love poems to you on my own.”

Jungkook chuckles, “I know you, hyung. I think it’s cute.”

Yoongi grimaces. “If you say so.”

“I do. You are so cute.”

Yoongi chuckles, “you’re aware that I rearranged your insides just moments prior?”

“I know.” Jungkook closes his eyes and settles into the pillow. “Only cute people can do that.”

Yoongi laughs, “okay, okay you’re being an idiot. I get it”, he says, leaning in to kiss the shell of Jungkook’s ear.

Jungkook relaxes his muscles, enjoying the soft tingles rising all over his skin as Yoongi kisses every inch of his upper back. His face next. Jungkook rolls to his back so Yoongi can reach it better. Their eyes meet. Yoongi cups his cheek and kisses him. Jungkook seriously thinks that it feels so much better now that he knows it’s official. Every second, every moment, every touch exists to strengthen their relationship as boyfriends. Seriously, if Jungkook’s heart was still beating, it would race like crazy.

He giggles. Yoongi smiles.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I’m happy.”

Yoongi kisses him with a smile before he begins littering his face with kisses.

“I’m happy too, bub.”

“Oh, Yoongi”, Jungkook lets out and unable to control the surge of happiness, he shoots up to take Yoongi into the tightest hug human- and vampirekind has ever seen.

“Okay. This is happening”, Yoongi chuckles, letting it happen without hugging him back. It’s not because he doesn’t want to, but simply because Jungkook is squeezing his arms against his sides.

“I love you so much”, Jungkook giggles, shaking Yoongi from left and right.

“I love you too, but please stop that”, Yoongi laughs, head thrown back and bouncing around.

“No. You’re my stim toy”, Jungkook says and squeezes him tighter, making a cute sound for it.

“Whatever that is”, Yoongi laughs, taking the squeezing until it starts hurting. Then he begins to fight back. Softly of course, finally using his strength to shove Jungkook’s arms open.

“How are you doing that?” Jungkook gasps, trying with all his might to bear hug Yoongi again, but it is useless.

“I’m the strongest, remember?”

Jungkook’s back hits the rug, his wrists get pinned by one hand. Yoongi looks at him as if he wanted to take him to euphoria and back. Just for a second because then pure mischief burns in his eyes. Jungkook feels said mischief very soon as Yoongi begins tickling his sensitive side.

“No! Stop! Hyung please stop”, Jungkook squeals, laughing so loudly it bounces off the walls. He tries to fight his wrists free, kicking his feet helplessly. But it is useless. Yoongi is stronger and he is hellbent on getting Jungkook back for always being a little brat.

“Hyung I’m sorry”, Jungkook laughs, crying tears.

“Not enough”, Yoongi coos, changing sides.

“Ah! Please I’m gonna pee myself, stop! Please”, Jungkook squeals, laughing oh so much that his mouth truly cannot open any further.

“Mhm, alright”, Yoongi rasps and stops. He lets go of his wrists, sliding his hands to the smallest part of his waist to hold him. Somehow in their tickle match, Yoongi slid between Jungkook’s legs. They are thrown over his lap, resting their weight on him.

Jungkook recovers with little gasps and gulps. The first thing he does is wipe the tears from his blushy cheeks then he pouts at Yoongi.

“This was totally not necessary and very mean.”

Yoongi chuckles, “for all the bratting you did this week? It’s a mild punishment.”

Jungkook pouts harder, “I can’t help it. Besides, you’re too sensitive. I’m not even bratting.”

“Careful”, Yoongi squeezes Jungkook’s waist. The latter squeals and writhes.

“Sorry.”

“Better.” Yoongi smiles, bending down. His hands run along Jungkook’s torso until he has to rest them on each side of his head. “You’re so fucking pliable.”

“Hyung…” Jungkook sighs, melting into a puddle.

Like this. Underneath Yoongi and with his head foggy in feel good emotions, Jungkook gets kissed. He wraps his limbs around Yoongi and deepens the kiss. This might be one of the best nights of his life. He is his boyfriend. And now he is making out with him. This is the best night ever.

[mrs-hatake]

JJK Men Texting You After a Break-up

Pairing: Toji x F!Reader, Gojo x F!Reader, Nanami x F!Reader, Geto x F!Reader & Yuuta x F!Reader. ⟡ Genre:  Post Break-up, Mentions of violence and Stalking ⟡ O.D.P (Original Date of Publication): September 15th, 2024

A/N: All images belong to me!

Toji

The monotonous voice filling the room does not succeed in stealing Y/N’s attention from her phone as it lights up with yet another incoming call.

Toji

Stares back at her, his infamous smirk can almost be seen on the screen as the notification shows his fifth missed call in less than two minutes.

Being stuck in an important company meeting right after a break-up is the absolute worst. 

Y/N and Toji spent the previous night arguing about something that she cannot remember at the current time. But Toji’s thundering voice rattling her heart in her ribcage rings clear in her ears.

A jab to her side and Y/N is met with a side glare from her colleague who points at her phone with her eyes. Flushing in embarrassment, Y/N hurries to switch off her phone when a text message from her now ex-boyfriend catches her off guard. Scoffing, she sends a quick reply before switching it off.

Satoru

Binge watching all the feel good chick flicks is the best remedy for Y/N’s broken heart. 

She has shed some tears as the women on the screen cried over a relationship gone sour, has laughed when the female characters enjoyed themselves and has felt empowered when the women got over their heartache and moved on with their lives, becoming the better versions of themselves. 

Which is why when Satoru’s name pops up on her phone, she doesn’t feel the butterflies fluttering about in her tummy like they usually do. Instead, there are tiny spiders crawling in her veins, eating those vermin. 

Pausing the movie, Y/N picks up her phone with disinterest. 

A breathless chuckle, one lacking mirth, rushes past her lips. 

What a ridiculous message her ex has sent her.

Kento

Going to a bookstore, browsing the shelves for hours and filling the basket to the brim with new books and reading one of them at the coffee shop across the street was Y/N and Kento’s go to date idea.

They will sit at the coffee shop from early afternoon until the sun is just about to set. Having read quite a handful of chapters, they’d review the books they’ve read. Though they don’t read the same genres, they have the maturity to respect the other’s interest and provide honest inputs when asked for. 

But after their break-up just a few days ago, Y/N can’t stand the sight of hers and Kento’s bookshelves in their living room. The only way to shield her from such a sight, the one that taunts her of a lost love, is by retreating to her and Kento’s room. The only solace is that Kento is staying over at a friend’s house until he finds a new apartment to rent. 

Even though she misses Kento, even though she wants him back, Y/N refuses to be the bigger person by taking the first step. 

Which is why when Kento texts her, she doesn’t respond in her usual chipper attitude.

Sukuna

Finally, after years of emotional abuse, of nights crying herself to sleep, Y/N has finally broken-up with her boyfriend of five years. 

Ryomen Sukuna’s luck runs out when he finally pushes Y/N over her limit. Their last fight has Y/N throwing whatever object she can find at the tattooed man. When he successfully dodges them, she chases him out of her apartment with a kitchen knife.

That was a month ago.

Now, Y/N is in the living room of her new apartment, playing some violent game where whenever she rips off the arms, legs and head of a male character, she pictures them as Sukuna.

Horrifying, true, but this is what happens when you date someone as deranged as Sukuna.

Which is why when Y/N gets a text from an unknown number, her blood boils. 

How did Sukuna manage to get her new number?

Suguru

“…So I says to the guy, that’s my ma!”

Y/N shoulders shake as laughter erupts from her. Though the joke itself wasn’t funny, the way her date delivered it with so much enthusiasm is hilarious enough. 

Y/S has been nervous for the past week over the prospect of dating again. She just got out of a break up a little less than a month ago and she isn’t completely ready to be back on the dating scene but her friends have convinced her that the only way to get over a guy is by meeting someone new.

So, she downloads a dating app her friends recommended, matched with someone interesting enough and, here she is, on her first date after being in a relationship with Geto Suguru for two years.

Warmth floods her veins at the look her date is directing her way, gentle and curious, it’s a sight Y/N hasn’t been on the receiving end in a very long time.

She’s glad she is on this date. It’s time she thinks of herself for once.

But her resolve shatters when her phone lights up, showing Suguru’s name.

She picks up her phone to block his number but his message has her rolling her eyes. Typing a quick response, Y/N blocks her ex.

Yuuta

Dating Okkotsu Yuuta is like dating prince Charming. 

He spoils you with gifts, sings songs of praise, touches you with care and wakes and sleeps to your name on his tongue. 

Which is why, when Yuuta calls Y/N the wrong name in bed — the name of a deceased lover, no less — it is as if she has been doused in cold water, waking her up from her dreams.

What surprises Y/N even more is how incessant Yuuta is; calling her phone nonstop, loitering around her work place, following her home, banging on the door and begging for forgiveness. 

When Y/N grows fearful for her life, she quits her job, packs up her shit and leaves. 

Little by little, pretty colors paint Y/N’s world and she finds herself alive again. 

But the vibrant colors are painted over by dark and dull shades when a spam of messages from an unknown number reminds her of the past she’s been trying to escape.

Y/N isn’t going to give up. She will fight for the life she deserves. And if breaking his heart is the price for it, then so be it.

[ashthesalamipiece]

Can you make a kiribaku X reader fanfic, grown up and married AU. Where they get home from patrol to see f!reader there, who was actually supposed to be at the physiatric hospital?. She run away.

Safe Haven

Pairing: Kirishima x Bakugou x Female!Reader

AU: Pro Hero, Married, Post-Incident Recovery

CW: Mentions of mental health crisis, emotional trauma, hospitals (handled with care)

---

The door slammed shut behind them, a dull thud that echoed in the quiet house. Patrol had been long, filled with more tension than action, and all Katsuki wanted was a shower and ten minutes of silence. Eijirou kicked off his boots by the entrance, glancing around the front hallway.

“...It’s too quiet,” he muttered.

Katsuki grunted. “That’s the point, dumbass.”

But when he rounded the corner and spotted the throw blanket crumpled on the couch—your favorite blanket—his stomach dropped. You weren’t supposed to be home. You were supposed to be—

“Eijirou.”

“I see it,” Kirishima said, eyes already scanning the living room. “That’s her phone. And her sketchbook—shit.”

They both moved fast now, instincts kicking in. Katsuki pushed open the bedroom door and froze.

You were there. Curled up on his side of the bed, wearing a hoodie that hung far too big on your frame. Your hair was a mess. Your fingers trembled where they clutched the fabric.

When your eyes fluttered open, you smiled softly. “Hi.”

“What the hell,” Katsuki snapped, voice breaking. “You—you were supposed to be—”

“I know.” You sat up slowly. “I... I ran.”

Eijirou came to kneel beside the bed, his voice gentler. “Why, sunshine? Why didn’t you tell us? You scared the hell out of us. The hospital called—”

“They said I wasn’t stable,” you interrupted, voice small but resolute. “But I couldn’t breathe in there. I just wanted to be home. With you. I didn’t want cold walls or pitying stares. I wanted...this. You two.”

Katsuki paced, hands raking through his hair. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened? What if someone saw you, what if—fuck!”

“I left a note,” you said. “They’ll find it. I just—I needed to feel like a person again.”

Eijirou looked back at Katsuki. “She’s here now. That’s what matters.”

“No,” Bakugou growled. “What matters is she’s hurting and she ran from help. That’s not okay.”

You flinched, eyes glassy.

Kirishima touched your knee, warm and grounding. “Babe...we’re not mad you wanted to come home. We just...we want you safe. If you feel like you can’t do this alone, you don’t have to. That’s what the hospital was for. But also—we’re here. Always.”

Katsuki finally stopped pacing. His eyes met yours—fiery, stormy, but soft beneath the fury.

“Next time,” he said, voice low. “You call. You don’t run. You don’t scare us like that. Got it?”

You nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He knelt beside Eijirou, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, yanking you close.

“You don’t gotta be sorry, idiot,” he murmured. “You’re our whole damn world.”

Kirishima pressed a kiss to your temple. “Let’s figure it out. Together.”

You finally exhaled, shoulders sagging in their warmth. Maybe things weren’t fixed—but here, wrapped between them, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

[tortillaneedshelp]

So… I have a theory from SotM.

One of the most interesting parts of the game to me was Foxy’s puppet show. Like… we got a whole entire cutscene/minigame featuring Foxy and his pirate crew (and none of the other core four). Huge! This is the earliest we’ve ever seen him!

The thing is, though, I pay extra attention whenever Foxy's around because I am a Michael Afton enjoyer (understatement), and Michael has always been connected to Foxy. It's the mask he wore in FNAF 4, Funtime Foxy is the one who canonically jumpscares Mike in SL, Foxy was the main animatronic in the Fazbear Frights story that helped us confirm Mike's identity once and for all... the list goes on. So when I see an undamaged Foxy getting screen time in 1979, a year we know Michael was alive, and in a game that set up so much of the origins of Fazbear, I have to theorize about it.

First of all, it’s the first time we get to see Foxy undamaged. He’s not technically whole since he’s just a puppet, but he’s probably as whole as he’ll ever be! Second of all, it’s the first time we meet Foxy’s crew. A crew which consists of First Mate Foxy, Roxy (WHO IS ANOTHER CAN OF WORMS BUT THAT'S FOR LATER), Kit, Bawson, Renard the cook, and the captain, an early—perhaps the earliest—springlock suit, called Captain Springlock.

During the cutscene/minigame, Foxy is running around trying to organize a surprise birthday party for the Captain, trying to get the perfect gift and everything, but the Captain is not entirely pleased. Foxy keeps breaking all the Pirate Rules, and the party summons a Rocktapus. Finally, the crew defeats the Rocktapus, Foxy finds the perfect gift, and wins back the Captain’s favor--though the Captain still points out that Foxy got the date of his birthday wrong. After this, the Captain is sent away to the Animatronic Hospital to by worked on by Nurse Dollie.

So, what to make of that?

Remember, Foxy usually points us to Michael. Here we see an interaction between Foxy and his captain who he seems very eager to please, but only ends up frustrating. Roxy even accuses Foxy of waking up the Captain. And even though Captain Springlock is a pirate dog, not a yellow rabbit, I’m almost completely convinced he’s meant to represent William. A Captain is a leader, the one in charge of the ship. The title evokes the idea of "the man of the house"—I'm reminded of Captain Von Trapp in The Sound of Music specifically. At any rate, he’s Foxy's primary authority figure. And Foxy is the first mate, which is very likely how an oldest son would think of himself in relation to his father.

Now consider this—it’s 1979. Fazbear Entertainment is an entity, but hasn’t really gotten off the ground yet because they still need Murray’s animatronics and costumes. Which means that nobody has died yet and the Afton family is completely whole. William hasn’t become a murderer yet. Michael hasn’t started tormenting his little brother yet. Fredbear is a prototype and the Funtimes only exist as a whisper of style in some of Edwin Murray's work. Everyone’s fine.

Foxy is whole.

Perhaps this scene is a window into the last shreds of normalcy in the Afton family before William launched Fazbear Entertainment, and became a workaholic and an even worse father, and, of course, a murderer.

Even though the pirate crew ends up saving the day, in the middle of the chaos the Captain expresses extreme displeasure with Foxy, going so far as to curse him. It's pretty widely accepted that William despised Michael after the Crying Child's death, but who's to say he wasn't already finding fault with Michael before that? We know what kind of man William is. He's greedy, he's cruel, he only cares about his kids when they can be of use to him. Look at the way he treats Vanessa in the movies, and Elizabeth in the books and games. He's never been a good dad. Even his oldest child—his firstborn son, his supposed pride and joy—would get on his nerves. After the bite of '83, his displeasure would only increase.

Also: It’s been heavily speculated that William might have survived a few springlock failures before the one that ultimately traps him. This mostly comes from the novel trilogy, where William is described as having scars in the springlock pattern all over his body. And Dollie tells us that Captain Springlock has had to visit the animatronic hospital several times because of his springlock failures. Just food for thought.

Another interesting detail is that even though Foxy technically earns the Captain's respect by the end of the show, the theater is still trashed, and the Captain still suffers a springlock failure—and that's the last we see of him for the rest of the game. Foxy's actions still technically lead to the Captain's demise. Much like how even though Michael initially does his father's bidding to please him, he's still the one who ultimately brings about William's final death.

Anyway... that's one of the biggest theories from this game bouncing around in my brain like a rubber ball. For what it's worth. :P

[angellayercake]

Banchetto: Caffe

Papa Emeritus III x Reader | NSFW

AO3 | Dolce | Masterpost

Hi! Hello! I finally managed to do something! Thank you to people still reading after all this time. I love you so much and I hope you enjoy this penultimate instalment 🙃

With coffee, you had learned very quickly, there were several places where one could make or break the quality. Bean selection, grind size, water temperature and brewing time could all have an effect on the final result. He preferred a coffee pot to other methods, never having managed to get on with fancy espresso machines. It had taken some trial and error but you had got the point where you could brew his coffee in your sleep. Weigh his favoured beans, a medium grind, heat water, fill up the water reservoir, fill the funnel and level the coffee, assemble, set on heat, lift lid and wait. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

You are comfortable. More comfortable than you might ever remember being. Your bed was perfectly serviceable, in fact you had never found anything wrong with it at all. That is until you spent the night here. The sheets were the softest you had ever laid on and the mattress moulds to you perfectly like it was made for you to lie on. The soft breeze coming from the slightly open window makes the contrast between above and below the covers extra cosy and the heavy curtains block out most of the morning sunlight but for a halo of light which is just enough to allow you to see the man you are lying beside.

If you're being honest, more than any of the other things you were appreciating, the factor that made waking up here far superior to waking up anywhere else is that you are waking up next to him. When wakefulness had first found you, your face had been nuzzled in his chest, the two of you having gravitated towards each other in your sleep until you had been using his arm as a pillow and had tucked a leg between his. His gentle snores had been ruffling the hair at the top of your head, that and the soft chirping of birds in the garden the only sound you could hear in late morning. You hardly wanted to move at all but as you stirred he had rolled onto his back giving you an even more pleasing view.

There was little chance of falling back to sleep now instead you watch him sleeping peacefully. You roll closer following his heat leaving you perfectly positioned to have your chin propped on his chest. His hair is laying mussed, salt and pepper waves tousled across the pillow, his face relaxed in a way you had never seen as he sleeps. It may just be your imagination but you think you can see a smile on his lips. 

Perhaps you were flattering yourself in your romantic reverie but since your confession the night before he had appeared to glow with happiness. His contentment was palpable though he hadn’t responded in kind and yet you weren’t worried. The way he had looked at you, touched you, it left you in no doubt at the depth of his feelings. Even if he wasn’t able to put it into words yet, you had known then that he needed to hear it from you. He needed to understand how much you had come to care for him. You push a lock of hair out of his face and he almost follows the journey of your hand seeking the warmth and comfort you are offering until your hand is rested on his cheek.

He breathes deeply, seeming to sense you watching, his mismatched eyes blinking open slowly. After a stretch of his arms and a groan he pulls you closer until you are lying almost completely on top of him. 

‘Buongiorno mia cuocoina,’ he says through a yawn. 

‘Good morning,’ you murmur back, closing what little distance is left between you for a kiss. It’s slow and comfortable and so sweet. You run your fingers up his chest, scratching your nails through his thick hair just as you had imagined all those times, swallowing the low rumble that your actions inspire. His hands follow the curve of your body until he can cup your ass and with surprising strength given the amount of time he has been awake shifts you until you are properly settled on top of him.

It's almost unthinking the way you begin to move together. You cup the back of his neck running your fingers over his nape and into his hair enjoying the way the silky strands feel between your fingers and the way he gasps into your mouth giving you the perfect opportunity to deepen this good morning kiss. His hands flex on your ass, grip tightening as you feel him hardening against your hip and you offer no resistance when he starts guiding your movements, the slow grind taking you both far beyond a good morning kiss. 

You could stay like this forever, part of you wants to but there is a fire starting to burn in the pit of your stomach turning your lazy morning appreciation into a more urgent simmering need. You prop yourself up, hands on his chest and you can’t help but laugh at how his whine of disappointment turns choked when you settle yourself more firmly against his morning erection. He catches on quickly though syncing the rolling of both your hips. His eyes flit back and forth between your face and your bare breasts hanging temptingly before him as you both move. 

With only a small groan of effort he lifts himself up on his elbows bringing him perfectly in line to nuzzle his face into your cleavage and when content follow the curve of your breast with his tongue capturing your nipple between his lips. He watches you with intense eyes as you arch into him chasing all the pleasure he so eagerly gives you. The blissful haze is interrupted by a loud knocking coming from his office. You jump, pulling away from him and he moans in annoyance, wrapping you in his arms and trying to pull you close again. 

‘Shhh,’ he whispers soothingly trying to pull your attention back to him. ‘Ignore it, cara mia. They will go away.’ He kisses up your chest, over your throat and chin, seeking your lips and almost succeeding. You glance at the clock on his bedside cabinet, surprised by how late it is as you accept his kisses. Already after 10, no wonder someone was trying to seek his attention. Any further objections you may have had are swallowed up by his mouth though, your eyes slipping closed as you succumb to him nibbling and sucking at your lips, enticing you to open up for him once again as you settle against him, this time the hard length of his cock laying perfectly against your core. Just as you have almost entirely forgotten the knocking begins again, louder and much more insistent. 

‘Ah cazzo,’ he says, collapsing back against the pillows petulantly before sliding out from under you muttering under his breath. ‘I will get rid of them.’ He finds his lounge pants and pulls them on before wrestling with his dressing gown. The tie gets caught in his sleeve and you watch with pity for a moment before rising and helping him untangle himself and try to be at least a little presentable. 

‘And I will make coffee for when you do.’ You pull him in for one last kiss, your fingers running through his hair tidying it somewhat before he goes to face the interruption. Looking around you realise there aren’t very many of your clothes in this room, so you steal his shirt disregarding the fact the hem barely skims your ass before wandering to the kitchen. 

Making coffee is second nature to you now so you let your mind wander to the later on. Perhaps he will ask you to spend the night tonight to pick up where you left off this morning. You cycle through some ideas for something special to make him tonight, just because. Something had changed last night and while you had shied away from thinking about the future before it felt safer now, more certain. The coffee starts to bubble up, filling the pot while you imagine days and weeks spent together, holidays and trips and excitement but also the day to day. Coming back to him after a day in the kitchen, falling asleep together, making his coffee. You add a splash of milk and a touch of sugar just as he likes before quietly making your way to his office in case he wasn’t done with his guest yet. 

Your bra you find in the dining room, hooked over a chair and your dress in the sitting room half hanging off a sofa. Putting the coffee on the side table you shuffle into your own clothes, pausing with a curse when you remember that your underwear was lost in his office the previous evening. Hopefully he had the sense to pick them up before letting his guest in. You send a short prayer to Satan as you fetch the coffee. 

As you get closer to his office the soft hum of voices becomes more distinct. The conversation carries to you through the slightly ajar door and you are surprised to hear the voice of Sister Imperator. In all this time she had never visited Papa as far as you were aware. Their conversation continues and you know you shouldn’t listen but you could hardly interrupt in the state you were currently in, it would have been more than obvious that you had stayed the night here and this wasn’t how you wanted your relationship revealed to the upper clergy. You were curious though of why she was here now so your curiosity wins out and you get as close to the door as you can get away with and listen.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

A watched pot never boils so they say and it certainly feels that way as you wait but catching it at just the right moment, turning off the heat as the spout begins to bubble over and let the pressure and steam do its work. There is nothing, nothing, nothing then before you know it half the reservoir is filled. Flip the lid closed as the last spurts are driven up from the chamber mainly to capture every last drop but also to avoid the splatter of hot coffee everywhere in the vicinity. Many take it black but he takes his with a splash of milk and a pinch of sugar, a short mix then it is ready to serve.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Even from outside you could sense the thick tension in the room. You could just about see them both from where you were peeking around the door frame, his back to you while Sister Imperator was facing you sat across his desk. He looked so rigid in his chair, clearly uncomfortable in her presence, far from his usual confident lounging. He looked smaller, his arms and his dressing gown wrapped tightly around himself as if trying to make himself less of a target, but her sharp expression was fixed on him.

‘It should be obvious to you Terzo,’ she states, leaving you with little context to their prior conversation. 

‘Papa,’ he interrupts but she barely acknowledges him aside from an arch of her brow.

‘Your time is over,’ she continues. ‘It is time for the Clergy to move on to bigger and better things. You have had your time to sulk but now it is time for you to step back and find a hobby like your brothers.’ 

Her condescension rankles you both, his shoulders hunching impossibly higher as you feel anger starting to swell in your chest. Despite the circumstances at the end of his reign he had been a well loved and successful Papa, building on the foundations his brothers had laid and bringing not only the ghost project but the church itself to new heights. There were more siblings, more money, more praise for our unholy father. It unsettled you seeing her talk to him like this.  

‘But who is taking over?’ He questions, his tone bemused. It was a valid question. It was his father that had addressed the children of the ministry at his final appearance but he could hardly walk unassisted let alone lead the Church or the ghost project. While Terzo had continued some of his Papal duties while you had worked for him it was no secret that the bulk of the work had been shared between his brothers. 

‘Well I should thank you for that Papa.’ While she concedes to using his title this time her tone is far from respectful. ‘Cardinal Copia he is…’ She pauses, seeming to pick her words carefully. ‘He will be taking over the ghost project,  as he has taken over the majority of the work you should have been doing these past months.’ Her face hardens as she continues. 

‘He has been forced to step up while you have been indisposed and getting waited on hand and foot.’ She points at him accusingly, any pleasant façade completely fallen away. ‘Taking resources away from the greater congregation to indulge yourself which hasn’t gone unnoticed.’ The unfairness of her accusations stings even you. If she had known how bad he had been, if she had seen him at the beginning. You take a quiet breath trying to calm yourself down. She composes herself and leans back in her chair affecting a more casual air that belies what she says next. 

‘The Cardinal will succeed and when he does he will become Papa.’ And with that she stands. ‘You have a week to vacate these rooms and find something more suitable for your new rank. Might I even suggest further afield than the grounds of the abbey.’ She doesn't even pause to watch him deflate at her words, any fight he had left leaving him in an instant. 

‘Oh and one more thing,’ she pauses her hand already on the door handle. ‘This personal chef nonsense ends today. With the success Copia will bring the ministry she will be needed more than ever and it is about time the whole world stops pandering to you. She is to report to the kitchens for lunch time prep. Which starts in about half an hour.’ She glances towards the ajar door at that last statement, somehow aware of your eaves dropping then without a second glance at Terzo she  leaves, closing the door with a quiet click as if she hasn't just turned both of your worlds upside down. 

You are frozen, torn between running straight to comfort him and giving him his privacy. Your mind is whirling with everything you had just heard, the way Sister Imperator spoke to him, the fact that Copia would be leading the ghost project, that you would no longer be working for him, that he would be leaving. Your thoughts grind to a halt. He would be leaving. Your stomach fills with lead. A week and he would be leaving. You try and steady your hands still holding the coffees you had so happily made a few minutes ago thinking this was just the beginning of your time together and in just that stretch of time everything had been turned on its head. 

Your frantic thoughts are interrupted by a bang and a smash from his office. You jump, losing your battle against spilling the coffee, hot liquid spilling over both of your hands.

‘Oh shit,’ you exclaim quickly, putting the cups down before you spill anymore. But as you turn the door to his office is yanked open and there he is stood in the door frame. 

‘What did you hear?’ His voice takes you by surprise, cold and hard in a way you hadn’t heard from him for months. 

‘Terzo, I…’ he shakes his head, cutting you off before you can continue. His grip on the door frame becoming white knuckled. 

‘How much did you hear?’ He seems brittle, as if he is about to snap at any moment, as if one wrong move will send you both plummeting into the icy waters of the reality of what just happened. 

‘I don’t know I just….’ You have hardly had time to process what you did hear and his cold demeanour unsettles you even further. He is so obviously hurting and yet all you can think about is him leaving you. ‘You have to leave?’

‘Get out.’ he says, his voice flat and emotionless. You think you misheard him at first.

‘What? Terzo …’ He turns away heading back into the office as you start to question him so you reach for him but he shakes you off with a jerk of his shoulder. 

‘You heard.’ That cold flat voice again as if someone other than the man you had fallen in love with was standing in front of you. ‘You are needed back in the kitchen.’ 

‘Please stop,’ you beg, your confusion starting to lift as you realise he is shutting you out on purpose, trying to isolate himself the way he had before. Though the knowledge does nothing to quell the tears welling up in your eyes. ‘We need to talk about this.’ 

‘Talk about what?’ Still nothing but his cold flat responses. ‘Things that are none of your concern?’ He won’t even look at you and your chest feels tight. 

‘Terzo,’ you say a plea clear in your voice. He still won’t look at you, standing by his desk fiddling with the papers and trinkets across the surface but you can see his shoulders begin to shake. ‘Please don’t do this.’

‘Leave.’ If your attention hadn’t been fixed on him, if you hadn't spent the past months doing everything you can to make him happy, if you didn't care for him the way you do you might have missed it, the way his voice breaks as he says it. ‘Ti prego.’ 

‘You can’t expect me to leave you like this.’ Surely he knows, surely you have shown him how much you care. ‘After everything we have, after everything that has happened.’ You step closer reaching for him once again but he flinches away. 

‘Everything we have been through?’ he scoffs, finally turning to face you. He pins you with his gaze no longer cold, but burning and far from the passion you had grown used to. His anger was winning out, at Sister Imperator, at the disrespect he had been shown, at the situation he is being forced into. And yet despite the care you have given him he is still using you as the scapegoat for his frustrations. 

‘My life, everything I have ever worked for is being torn to shreds because some bitch is on a power trip and you think a good fuck in an apron is going to fix it?’ He could have stabbed you and it might hurt less, but you wait, let him run out of steam. ‘You were a pleasant diversion, mia cuocoina, but I have something a little more pressing to deal with right now so run along back to the kitchen and leave me the fuck alone.’ 

His chest is heaving with deep breaths as he tries to maintain his casually cruel façade. Your tears are falling freely now despite the fact you know he doesn't mean it. He is so clearly hurting and lashing out at you but that doesn't make any of this ok. So you wait, despite the way your heart is breaking, for the apology you deserve and that you are sure will come. 

He watches you, uncertainty creeping in at the corners of his expression. He expected you to give up by now, to leave him to wallow and now he doesn't know what to do. You take a final step forward until you are within touching distance, hoping that you are finally through the worst but his expression shutters. 

‘GET OUT!’ He shouts, stepping back from you and gesturing towards the door. You try your damnedest not to flinch even more sure he is just cycling through every possible tactic to push you away but with this he has gone too far even for you.  

‘I know that is not what you really want but I deserve more than this.’ You say as calmly as you can muster, your voice shaky despite your efforts.

Without another look you turn to leave, although you don't miss him deflating in the corner of your vision. While you have been crying for a while already you can feel a sob building in your throat, the drastic swing of your emotions from when you had first woken up beside him until now starting to overwhelm you. As you close his door for what you fear may be the last time you take a deep breath, the choked off sob you hear from the other side almost breaks your resolve to leave him. But you do. You love him yes, but if he refuses to be the man that has earned that love then so be it.

[thefloatingstone]

"And Then There was Silence" by Blind Guardian is a 14 minute song that documents the events of the Iliad poem by Homer.

Although the song shifts POVs multiple times throughout it, it's meant to represent the Prophet Cassandra's premonition of the fall of Troy.

Somebody actually combined the song with lyrics on screen with the movie "TROY" which is NOT a good movie (if only because it completely leaves out a lot of the gay relationships of the original) but it helps explains the lyrics within context of the Iliad itself.

The OP says: "The lyrics also mention some scenes from the Trojan cycle which did not make it into the movie. Most notably, these are the sacrifice of Iphigenia (1:21) and the Judgment of Paris (5:16). I considered using classical paintings and mosaics to illustrate these scenes, but in the end I decided to keep a more consistent imagery by only using scenes from the movie."

Lyrics in text below the cut because it's FOURTEEN MINUTES LONG

Turn your head and see the fields of flame

He carries along From a distant place, he's on his way He'll bring decay (Don't move along cause things they will go wrong The end is getting closer day by day) In shades of grey We're doomed to face the night Light's out of sight

Since we've reached the point of no return We pray for starlight, we wait for the moon The sky is empty, alone in the unknown We're getting nowhere

We have been betrayed by the wind and the rain The sacred halls empty and cold The sacrifice made should not be done in vain Revenge will be taken by Rome

We live a lie Under the dying moon Pale faced laughs doom Indulges in delight It's getting out of hand The final curtain will fall Hear my voice There is no choice There's no way out You'll find out

We don't regret it So many men have failed, but now he's gone Go out and get it The madman's head, it shall be thine We don't regret it That someone else dies hidden in disguise Go out and get it Orion's hound shines bright

Don't you think it's time to stop the chase Around the ring Just stop running, running Round the ring Don't you know that fate has been decided By the gods Feel the distance, distance Out of reach

Welcome to the end Watch your step, Cassandra, you might fall As I've stumbled on the field Sister mine Find myself in darkest places Find myself drifting away (Death's a certain thing) And the otherworld, the otherworld appears

Find myself, she dies in vain Cannot be freed, I'm falling down As time runs faster, moves towards disaster The ferryman will wait for you, my dear

And then there was silence Just a voice from the otherworld Like a leaf in an icy world Memories will fade

Misty tales and poems lost All the bliss and beauty will be gone May my weary soul find release for a while At the moment of death I will smile It's the triumph of shame and disease In the end (Iliad)

Raise my hands and praise the day Break the spell, show me the way In decay The flame of Troy will shine bright

The newborn child would carry ruin to the hall The newborn's death will be a blessing to us all

Good choice, bad choice? Out of three you've choosen misery Power and wisdom you deny Bad choice, bad choice War is the only answer When love will conquer fear

So the judgment's been made To the fairest, the graceful says Badly he fails

(Warning) Fear the heat of passion, father king Don't let him in, don't let her in Desire, lust, obssession, death they'll bring We can't get out once they are in

She's like the sunrise Outshines the moon at night Precious like starlight She'll bring in a murderous price

In darkness grows the seed of man's defeat Jealousy I can clearly see the end now I can clearly see the end now I can clearly see the end now

The thread of life is spun The coin's been placed below my tongue Never give up, never give in Be on our side so we can win Never give up, never give in Be on our side

Old moon's time is soon to come

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide Nothing to lose, like one we'll stand We'll face the storm created by man

Roar, Roar, Roar, Roar

(Troy, Troy, Troy, Troy) And as the lion slaughters man I am the wolf and you're the lamb

Hallowed Troy shall fall Round the wall Faith is shattered, bodies fall

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide Nothing to lose, like one we'll stand It's all for one and one for all All we live for will be wiped out

I feel that something's wrong Surprise, surprise they're gone Full moon, your time goes by A new moon's still kept out of sight

(We live) Misty tales and poems lost (We die) All the bliss and beauty will be gone May my weary soul find release for a while At the moment of death I will smile It's the triumph of shame and disease In the end (Iliad)

Raise my hands and praise the day Break the spell, show me the way In decay The flame of Troy will shine bright

Roam in darkness Spread the vision We will be lost if you truly believe

Troy in darkness There's a cold emptiness in our hearts That they've gone away And won't come back

They'll tear down the wall to bring it in They'll truly believe in the lie Lie, lie With blossoms they'll welcome the old foe

The vision's so clear When day and dream unite The end is near You'd better be prepared

The nightmare shall be over now There's nothing more to fear Come join in our singing and dance with us now The nightmare shall be over now There's nothing more to fear The war, it is over, forevermore

No hope, the blind leads the blind Carry on, though future's denied Mare or stallion, there's far more inside We're in at the kill We'll cheerfully die

Misty tales and poems lost All the bliss and beauty will be gone May my weary soul find release for a while At the moment of death I will smile It's the triumph of shame and disease In the end (Iliad)

Raise my hands and praise the day Break the spell, show me the way In decay The flame of Troy will shine bright

Holy light shines on

So the judgement's been made We're condemned though the trial's far ahead The crack of doom Father, your handsome son is heading home

Still the wind blows Calm and silent Carries news from a distant shore (Heading home) (repeat 2x)

Out of mind Can't get it Can't get it out of my head Sorrow and defeat Sorrow and defeat

[sunafc]

Cherry Smoke — 20, Right

masterlist

Rain falls in small, grey drops. It taps against Y/n’s umbrella as she waits for the bus. Seems like the sky is not having a great day either. She thinks back to her talk with Semi. It was the right thing to do — she keeps repeating in her head — to break it off before it went on too long. It was never her intention to hurt him. It was inevitable, though. Her eyes are fixed on a puddle on the road. Raindrops keep falling into it, forming little waves on the surface. Cars pass by, splashing dirty water all over the side of the street as they cross the puddle. A car stops, tire in the puddle. Y/n’s gaze moves up, recognizing the car. The window rolls down, ‘Hey,’ Suna greets her, ‘Need a ride?’ Y/n huffs, ‘What are you doing here?’ ‘I was in the area,’ he shrugs, ‘Come on, get in,’ he reaches for the car door and opens it. Y/n weighs her options: wait in the rain and sit thirty minutes on uncomfortable plastic seats or accept Suna’s offer. She gets in the car. Suna holds his breath until Y/n closes the door. The air between them is tense, awkward. Suna is scared to make a sound. Afraid to say the wrong thing once more. Neither of them utters a word for the first ten minutes of the ride. Then, Suna breaks the silence. He glances at the girl once before focusing back on the street in front of him, ‘Can we talk?’ Y/n wants to answer with a dig at his inability to talk in the past, but she decides to spare him. After all, he had driven to that bus stop for her (even though he said he was passing by, Y/n knew there was nothing in that neighborhood for him to go there). ‘Fine,’ she says, ‘But you’re doing the talking.’ Suna lets out a sigh of relief — at least she wanted to listen to him. He just had to avoid saying the wrong thing — he stops the car in a parking spot on the side of the road. He passes a hand through his hair. He slightly turns to Y/n, ‘I’m sorry,’ he says, ‘I’ve been awful to you, I’ve been a coward, and I’ve been selfish,’ he fidgets with his fingers, trying to stop his hands from shaking, ‘I like you, Y/n,’ he smiles, ‘I like you so much it makes me scared, I wanted to run from you but I couldn’t. I tried to keep you all for myself. I know you deserve better than me, but I can’t bear to see you with anyone else.’ ‘Rin—’ ‘I want to do better,’ he interrupts her, ‘I went to see a therapist.’ ‘You did?’ Y/n asks, a bit shocked. Suna lowers his gaze, ‘Yeah, Yachi said it could help me to talk with a stranger,’ — Y/n hums in agreement — ‘I only went to one session for now, and it wasn’t too bad,’ he says. ‘That’s great, Rin,’ she says in a sweet tone, sincerely happy to hear that. ‘I broke it off with Semi,’ she blurts out. ‘Oh,’ Suna tries to hide his happiness at her words and focuses on her face, trying to read her, ‘Are you okay?’ ‘I’m fine,’ she sighs, ‘It couldn’t work. It wasn’t the right time for me.’ ‘My bad,’ Suna smirks. Y/n punches his shoulder playfully, ‘I tried getting over you,’ she says, getting more serious, ‘But deep down, I didn’t want to.’ Suna’s heart skips a beat, ‘I really want to kiss you,’ he says. Y/n laughs, ‘Take me on a date first?’ ‘Bet, we’re going right now,’ Suna starts the car. Y/n's eyes widen, and she quickly grabs Suna’s arm to stop him, ‘Wait, I was joking!’ Then she sees the worried look on Suna’s face as he stops the car, ‘I can’t go on a date looking like this,’ she says, pointing at her figure. Suna goes from worried to unamused, but he smiles, ‘I see nothing wrong. You look beautiful.’ ‘Shut up,’ she averts her gaze, ‘let’s just go to yours.’ ‘Then I can kiss you?’ ‘We can talk about it,’ she says, trying to cover the smile creeping up her face. Satisfied, Suna starts the car again.

notes:

suna isn't wasting time no more

finally getting the therapy he deserves!!! fix your commitment issues king 🙏

again, everyone say thank you yachi ! our savior fr

also sorry to semi and semi stans 💔 it wasn't meant to be

thoughts and constructive criticism abt the written content are always appreciated so please, if you have any, share them!!

taglist: @nomyimi @nomoreilovesyou @heyhihellowhatsup @this-is-me-lolol @xoxpetals @massacremars @mo072806 @chikanmaniac @jayyyygeeee @unhinged-atrocities @sophiahearttss @akaashislovee @sexylexy12 @asp7n @silly-pigeon69 @0rangej0e @sticknpokes @honeyfewr @kzoyu @m3llypl1n1us @thatmf-jay @aneternallyexhaustedpigeon @ventiij @meguemii @nscuit @luvinazaki @reidsworld @h3xi2g0n3 @readerxyou @crispymaki @emiwoowoo @bluemailhiot @itz-phantomz @lover-no-lover61 @osamuspudding @dazaisfavgf @kenmacantakemeaway @ilikecats003 @ocyeanicc @luvlybeom @mncxbe @yayekes @sunaluvbug @asxprse @blub-1 @sovaenjoyer @emicatz @angelsleepinggurl @bigfluffybread @0-0rot | taglist full

[tomatenverspachtler]

WHAT IF..

They both die at the end.

Thomas had to keep newt alive for as long as possible,which was difficult because of how ridiculously accepting newt was with dying. He dragged him through the burning city to a more quiet, ‘peaceful’ area. Newt collapsing, Thomas hearing Teresa’s message to him.

As Newt slowly got up, Thomas worried. Before suddenly seeing the blackened eyes, his heart dropping. The crank that was once his friend now fighting him, attacking him with all energy left in his body and obviously the flare spilling more into his blood by the minute. Newt got on top of him,long gone to the virus. Thomas panting, desperately trying to get the knife off of his chest that Newt was so eager to stab into him. Thomas tried everything, he couldn’t die yet, same went for his friend. Screaming when the knife dig into his skin slowly. Thankfully pushing the boy off of him, Turning onto his stomach as he tried to crawl on his knees to somehow get to safety since Newt was getting more dangerous by the second.. failing to get on his knees as he kept falling down, accidentally twisting—or even breaking his ankle in the fight, whatever it was,he couldn’t get up. He dragged himself little until suddenly feeling the sharp pain in his back that made him gasp so deep he could choke on the air in his throat—he had been stabbed.

Slowly slipping onto the floor again after all those attempts of getting up, after finally reaching his hand out for safety— he was doomed and so was Newt.. Thomas’s eyes teared up from the amount of pain he was in, a knife in the spine not necessarily a thing to easily recover from, tears running down his cheeks already. Shakily, lowering his head to rest on the ground, letting out dry huff as the taste of blood hit his mouth. He thought letting death just take over him instead of fighting it would be easier and it felt like it was but it was more horrible by the fact that he couldn’t actually hear his thoughts then. Not his body pumping with adrenaline trying to survive. He thought about Newt, when he first met him. Alby introducing the two. Having no idea that this boy would be the causing of his death someday. He would miss Minho,Brenda,Gally..Teresa..even Newt, Jorge and Aris too.

He didn’t even have time to close his eyes as his life began to pass away.

The Crank beside him just watched, having crawled to him last second to do the killing, just ..laying there now. Everything quiet for a moment before the bombs went off again in the background. He got on his knees and just looked at Thomas’s lifeless body for what felt like a long time. Shaking. His eyes starting to water. He started to quietly sob to himself,muttering random stuff,crank noises, “Tommy” slipping out of his mouth every once in a while. He looked at the blood splattered onto the knife,it going all the way up to his hand. There was still Newt somewhere in there.If only the cure had come on time. He didn’t blame anyone tho, this was his doing..All his fault. Thomas was dead because of him. Dropping the knife,

He reached over to get Thomas’s gun out of its holster. Reloading it with the last bit of human knowledge he had and pointing it at the side of his head slowly.

what if… during the scene of newt’s death (book or movie verse, whatever) thomas is trying so hard to keep newt alive while newt is losing himself to the flare and eventually, when he’s almost completely out of sanity and they are fighting, newt ends up killing thomas. and then- and then he snaps out of it and notices what he’s done and starts screaming and crying while covered in thomas’ blood and gets the gun and kills himself, his body falling right next to thomas’ on the floor… what if?

idk if there’s a fic for this already but i’d kill for it rn i swear…. pls if someone has something close to this recommend it. to me. now.

[makingfanfictionstosleep]

i have an idea. maybe i would write this soon, i just have to get this out of my head first.

what if —

mc , the sorceress, deceived sylus and made him believe that she is his mate?

mc, the sorceress, locked the memories of sylus about non-mc away and created a spell that made him believe that she is his fated mate?

mc, the sorceress, was greedy and wanted the love and devotion of sylus to non-mc be directed at her, only to find demise and destruction, the never-ending loop of them killing each other at some point and mc is just finding a way to end it and finally have a happy ending with sylus

non-mc, the other last dragon, was finding a way to break mc's spell, get to her sylus and let him know that he is not alone

non-mc, the other last dragon, was heartbroken every time sylus dies because she'd have to wait longer

non-mc, the other last dragon, waits patiently and hopes every time that this would be it — the timelines where she would be able to break the spell

non -mc, the other last dragon, realizes that she is the last dragon because sylus is slowly losing his ability to transform

non-mc, the other last dragon, finally found a way to unseal the memories of sylus, but a little bit too late because the only way to unseal them is if she would die by his hands

non-mc, the other dragon, loses her memories of sylus and sylus is the one who would make her remember

soooooo. maybe its gonna be a story soon. once i get the creative juices up and running on e again.

[smilesrobotlover]

I made this a while ago but never posted it for some reason. I’ve been struggling to write lately but hope y’all enjoy this one. You’ll truly see how anxious Ammon can get. Also imagine Sarah with a Scottish accent

You Know I Worry

Ammon rubbed his eyes and let out a big sigh. It was barely noon but he was already exhausted. He had been struggling to sleep for days now due to his daughter, Aryn, falling out of a tree and breaking her arm. It was a bad break, and Ammon had been doing everything he could to get her feeling better. He blamed himself for it naturally; he didn’t keep a close eye on her as she climbed and he didn’t notice that she was on a flimsy branch. He’s tried not to restrict his children due to his own anxieties, but it was like a slap to the face that the one time where he didn’t worry, someone got hurt. Aryn was fine after a few days, of course; she was already running around with the other children, even trying to climb trees again despite her arm still being in a sling. He knew his children were reckless (something they got from their mother), but by the goddesses they truly didn’t care about their well-being. It was hard for him to deal with sometimes since he was terrified of losing them. And so this anxiety kept him up at night, making him toss and turn in bed, interrupting his wife’s sleep as he moved. Occasionally he had to walk around the house just to get back to sleep, and to his dismay he would see Link out and about, not caring for his own well-being either. He couldn’t do anything for Link, he was an adult now and didn’t need his father to tell him what to do, but by the goddesses why was he out at night?

Ammon sighed at the memory of trying to encourage Link to stay inside to avoid getting a cold from the night air. Though Link didn’t speak much, he did detect a level of sass when Link asked what he was doing out. Ammon would’ve simply given up at that point but he was clothed, unlike his son who enjoyed walking around bare chested. Of course Link didn’t listen to him when he pointed it out, he never does. Ammon rubbed his face again and stared at the table blankly. This break from his job as a bodyguard has not been very relaxing. He’s been on edge the entire time, trying to keep his son from hurting himself and to keep his daughter from hurting herself further. He knows he shouldn’t worry about it, but he can’t help it.

The door opened and Ammon saw his wife, Sarah, walk through the door. She was wearing her sleeveless shirt again which revealed her toned arms, the gray color and style clashing horribly with her pinkish red skirt. Her hair was stuffed in a wrap and she looked tired. Being the blacksmith’s assistant was always so demanding for her, yet when she looked up at Ammon, she gave him a warm smile.

“My dear! You’re right where I left ya!”

Ammon smiled slightly and nodded. “I was just lost in thought,” he muttered, picking at the table with his prosthetic arm.

“Oh, I see what’s going on,” Sarah walked up to him and started rubbing his back. “You’re bothered by somethin’, aren’t ya?”

Ammon sighed. “Not by anything new.”

Sarah gave a sympathetic smile. “You worried about our wee Aryn? She’s healin’ up nicely, and I hear Link is bringing Mipha here to heal her more. She’ll be fine.”

“I know… I know she’ll be fine I just…”

“It wasn’t your fault darlin’. Don’t try to say it was.”

Ammon frowned at the ground. It was his fault, but he didn’t say anything. Sarah remained silent and she continued stroking his neck, and Ammon finally got up.

“Where is Aryn?”

Sarah raised an eyebrow. “She’s over by the windmills. Don’t worry, she’s perfectly fine.”

“I just need to make sure she’s not doing anything reckless—“ Ammon gasped as Sarah’s foot jutted out, causing him to trip over her. In one motion, his wife grabbed one of his flailing arms and spun him around so he was facing her. She held his waist firmly and pulled him closer to her. Ammon glared at her knowing what she was up to. “Sarah—“

“You haven’t been gettin’ much sleep now, have you dear?”

“I— I have been struggling a little—“

“No need to lie to me. I know when you get up and leave the house.” She tilted her head and smiled at him. “I think you should get some rest, yeah?”

Ammon looked away. “I’m fine, I’m just a little… sleep deprived.”

“Well it sounds like we should take a nap.”

“No no, I hate naps, I’ll try to sleep better tonight.”

Sarah gave him a look and he shrunk away a little, knowing she was not going to drop the subject.

“Oh alright,” she said, “well I need a nap, and you’re comin’ with me!”

Ammon let out a yelp as he was suddenly swept off his feet and carried to his bed.

“Sarah don’t you dare—!” He started, but he was lightly tossed onto the bed. Sarah plopped right on top of him, already snaking her arms and legs around him, keeping him stuck between her and the bed. Ammon couldn’t help but let out a laugh as she playfully poked his stomach, finally relaxing so all her weight was on him. Ammon wiggled a bit in her hold, deciding that he didn’t have the energy to fight back, and he let out one final huff. Exhaustion finally started to get a hold of him, and he snuggled in further to his wife.

“Sarah?”

“Hm?”

“Can I at least take off my prosthetic?”

Sarah opened her eyes and smirked at Ammon. “Oh alright, I guess.”

Ammon snorted and quickly took off his prosthetic, snuggling back in with his wife. With the rhythm of her heartbeat and the warmth of her skin against his, Ammon finally got the sleep he needed.

[cakerybakery]

Adam had been chewing on a thought lately. Ever since Charlie pointed out how much like him Vaggie was, her little mannerisms and verbal tics from being raised by him in the barracks, it bothered him.

Yeah, he could see it. Her tendency to bark orders like she was still running the girls through their paces, like he taught her to. The pet names she used, like babe. Her vicious streak.

Which lead him to be thinking about how much like Lucifer Charlie was. A little hyper. They were dreamers. Kinda sappy and easily cried. Big on touching and hugging.

So this pissed him off.

When the sinners were upset they curled up with Charlie to be comforted like she was replacing their mom, meanwhile Vaggie was about one sinner crying away from calling them sport and offering to get their mother to talk to instead.

It wasn't fair because Vaggie was like him in a skirt, dad-ing these sinners. But the girls were gone for the weekend and Angel Dust was cuddling him and crying about a fight he's had with Husk while Lucifer sat in a chair across the room like a useless lump.

If Charlie was the mom between her and Vaggie, why wasn't Lucifer the mom now?

He spent ten thousand years as the father of humanity, and a year of hell and he's the damn mom.

Adam let Angel cry himself out and told him to go talk to Husk. They both said shit they didn't really mean.

Angel taken care of, Adam got up, stalked over to Lucifer, and swatted Lucifer's arm. "The fuck was that?"

Startled, Lucifer jump. "What?"

"Why didn't you say or do anything? You fucking like hugs."

"I'm not good with comforting people!" Lucifer argued back.

"And you think I am?"

"Of course you are! Look at you. Soft, warm, you let him tell you what was wrong and cry, then when he was ready you gave him advice! I just freeze up when people cry. I can handle Charlie! She's my kid. But other people? I'm having a heart attack just thinking about it."

"... Did you fucking call me soft?" Adam huffed.

Alright, he'd put on weight. There was no need to make fun of him.

He put his hand on his stomach self-consciously.

Lucifer's eyes went wide and he stumbled over his words. "No, I didn't mean. I mean I did, but not like bad! Like this!" Lucifer quickly got to his feet and hugged him, holding him close before freezing with his arms still around Adam. "Oh, I went too far."

"Yeah."

Lucifer felt good though.

"I'm going to let go now."

"No." Adam wrapped an arm around Lucifer's shoulders and kept him there. "Not yet."

Adam couldn't remember the last time he was really hugged like this. He'd been hugged, Charlie was a hug machine, Angel Dust had just been clinging to him. But this was, it was different.

He couldn't explain it. Looking down at Lucifer's face on, what Adam had to admit, weren't exactly hard pecs anymore, it was nice. It was like when Eve and him would cuddle by the fire.

Lucifer relaxed a bit. Almost melting against him.

They stood there in the lobby for a bit, holding each other. Adam felt the annoyance and tension he didn't realize he'd had slipping away and even played a little with Lucifer hair.

Adam didn't know how long they stood there like that but they gave each other on final squeeze and break apart.

"That was nice," he muttered.

Lucifer agreed. "Maybe, we should... do it again sometime?"

"Yeah, but somewhere more private." He didn't want to get caught hugging in the lobby.

"My room?" Lucifer suggested quickly. He hesitated, "maybe we should go up and see if it works." Lucifer took his hand and Adam didn't pull away.

He wasn't an idiot.

If they went up to Lucifer's room, they weren't just going to hug until they were tired of hugging.

Lucifer was asking him to have sex, while being a cowered about it. Protecting himself against rejection.

Did he want to have sex with Lucifer?

"Sure."

He hadn't wanted to hug Lucifer and that felt nice.

Adam was adventurous. He liked trying new things. The idea of being the mom was starting to grow on him.

[slytherinshua]

⪧　STAGE LIGHTS　( 유기현 )

genre fluff , sort of sickfic , slight angst , established relationship , rockstar/popstar au , husband!kihyun x fem!reader   cw mentions of overworking , migraines , unhealthy tour schedules , not proofread fully   wc 1214   request yes   note finally, my monsta x writing debut has come   net @kstrucknet

The stage lights shone brightly on Kihyun’s pale skin, causing beads of sweat to start gathering on his forehead. The backtrack was loud in his ear, ticking with the beats for his cue. With one of his inner-ears pulled out, he could hear the microphone volume echoing through the entire empty stadium as he belted out the notes of the chorus. He hadn’t been feeling the best recently, and he was still getting over a slight cough. But world tours didn’t wait for the act to get it together, and he had a sold out show to do tonight. There wasn’t time for resting, as much as he would like to take a day off. 

Sometimes it still felt weird being a solo act after so long in a band. It was just him up on the big stage, expected to charm the entire audience by himself. No one else to rely on. No one else who could give him a break when he needed one. Somehow, he always made it through each painfully long three hour show. And somehow, he still hadn’t collapsed on stage.

You stood backstage, watching your husband run through his rehearsal in the stadium. It was quite routine at this point, and most rehearsals ended early. He knew exactly what tweaking to the sound he wanted done before the lights dimmed at 7PM without even having to think. He’d done over a hundred shows before as a solo act, and eighteen on this world tour alone. By now, the only challenging part of it was his stamina.

That was what you were worried about the most recently. This morning when he had woken up in your arms, you noticed how he clung closer to you— how he seemed to not want to get out of bed at all. When you asked him if he still felt sick, he assured you it was just fatigue, as if that would ease your mind at all. He had been pushing himself too much lately. You always told him to rest as much as he needed; cancel a show if necessary, but he always refused. 

His fans were his second priority (thankfully, he had enough sense and twice as much adoration in his body to put his wife first every time). But that left him lower on the list than you would like. You wished he would take care of himself more, but he was the most stubborn man you had ever met. The tickets had already been bought, stadiums already booked for over a year now. Kihyun would be damned if he didn’t put on a show for the forty thousand people here to see him tonight. They were going to get their money’s worth, and he was going to prove once again that professionalism reeked from his blood, sweat, and tears.

When he finished his run through of his latest headlining single, marking the choreo in time with his rich vocals, you could see how his body relaxed in relief. He walked back to you slowly, like he barely had the energy to pick up his feet. You weren’t sure how he would be dancing and singing for 3 hours straight this evening. Before even reaching the dressing room, he was leaning almost entirely against you, trusting you to support him as you always did.

“You are so stubborn,” you muttered, guiding Kihyun to the couch in the green room. He sighed, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the couch.

“It’s my job. I don’t feel it as much when I’m on the stage. The adrenaline will keep me going.”

“And then you’ll crash even harder once it’s all over. You’ve almost passed out before, Kihyun. You know that’s not healthy. If you won’t listen to your wife, at least listen to your doctor,” you urged. Your husband was silent. Too silent. Even when he was feeling his worst, he always had a reply for you. One glance told you everything you needed to know.

“You’re doing that little frowny thing you do when you’re about to get a migraine,” you pointed out softly, brushing your hand over his forehead just to make sure he wasn’t coming down with something again. The temperature felt normal, thankfully, but Kihyun’s frown only grew.

“I didn’t think this day could get any worse… but apparently the universe had other plans.”

Your heart ached a little for him. He sounded exhausted and it was barely 10 in the morning. His migraines had gotten better over the years. Less frequent. Less debilitating to his work schedule. But, while not having to deal with migraines was comforting, it had caused him to push himself even harder than in his earlier years. There was little to stop his ambition to be the top artist in the world, especially when his record label was so ecstatic at how he was doing on the charts globally lately. No doubt, his music and audience was in its prime. But Kihyun? He could feel his body giving up on him with each show. Maybe he truly wasn’t cut out for the level of stardom he had reached.

His staff and management had started to notice it more with the most recent stops on the tour, but nobody knew the full extent of it like you did. How he had been pushing himself since his last album came out. Performances aside, he was always tight on deadlines for new music, and you saw how it affected him creatively. In your opinion, he had been needing a break since last year. 

You wondered whether the cost of a long-lasting career at the top was worth it, or if your husband was unknowingly sabotaging his longevity in the process. The thought worried you, of course. Music and performing was always something Kihyun had been passionate about. And he was damn good at it, too. The best in the industry, in your probably biased opinion. An industry so competitive and intense was known for burning out its artists, handing them short-lived careers and a dissatisfaction with only a brief moment at the top.

All things considered, your husband had gotten lucky. With the launch of his solo career, he quickly made headlines. His music was good, his fanbase dedicated, and his talent spoke for itself. While he had been thriving for over five years now, you knew he had his sights set on another fifteen at least. His life simply wasn’t complete if he wasn’t performing. 

Thanks to the stage rehearsal ending early, he had some time to nap before he had to get ready for the fansigning event and photos. You made sure he had food and his meds before he collapsed completely on the couch, ready to rest for as long as he could afford. You would have left the dressing room to let him rest better if he hadn’t insisted you stay. Prone to being slightly clingier when he was feeling tired, you couldn’t help but melt at his request to sleep with his head in your lap. 

Kihyun might’ve been a world-class performer, but at the end of the day, he was still just your husband. The only thing he loved more than performing would always be you. 

monsta x taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @yudaies,, @lexeees,, @loserlvrss

[moonyfest]

🌙 A sneak preview for prompt A125! 🌙 Title: Fairview Feeling Browse all the prompts || Sign up to the fest

Distracted, Remus almost misses him at first. Sees only the ripped cuff of faded blue jeans over top the ridiculously elegant toe of a dark brown alligator leather cowboy boot, starkly incongruous in the way only the rich assholes who fancy themselves working cowboys can be. Remus nearly scoffs at the sight when he remembers the low rumblings of argument; knows from the overpriced toes of those shoes alone that this particular asshole is likely looking to stir up trouble. Looks up prepared to slip off into the next aisle to avoid confrontation if the situation calls for it.

Looks up and comes face-to-face with what is singlehandedly the most beautiful person he’s ever had the pleasure of looking at. 

He’s got curling black hair down to his collarbones, shoulders so broad they stretch the plain black snap shirt tucked into those ratty old blue jeans, and tattoos littered all over what Remus can see of hands with sinful fucking fingers. He’s tall—long-limbed, muscular, and big. Remus can tell even with how he’s leant over the counter, weight on his hands and one leg stretched out behind him, bringing him closer to Murph’s eye level. Can see the rippling curvature of muscle beneath the denim at his ass and thighs, in the tantalizing peeks of forearm he gets from his vantage point.

The wide-brimmed hat on his head is luxurious but well-worn, the leather a different color than the boots on his feet. It doesn’t matter. He could be wearing a potato sack and he’d still be devastating to look at. He could never say a word and his presence would still be the loudest thing in any room.

Then, like he’s finally sensed Remus’ deliberately unobtrusive presence, he turns.

His fine-featured face is flushed red from sun or irritation or both. It turns the grey-blue of his eyes a mercurial silver, two rain-dark storm clouds begging to break. Two pieces of flint begging to spark, to catch flame, uncaring of what they may consume in the fire. 

Jesus lord, Remus implores with a prolonged blink to center himself. Remus doesn’t usually run into these types in places like this. People this rich, this beautiful, don’t usually bother to patronize long-standing trucker stops with a reputation for being a safe place to crash and providing decent coffee in the morning. He can’t remember the last time he’d run into someone like this at all.

He also can’t remember the last time he’d earnestly prayed, but he’s also never found himself caught aflame by a single, withering look. 

[borkunlimited]

Where the Vernal Wind Blows (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 2

Lost in the Kazdelian desert, Sylus was close to accepting his fate of meeting his end in a desolate region until he met a certain banshee who finds amusement in his misfortune. In which Sylus believes your first meeting should have been the last then you and him keep meeting again and again until- -He ended up replacing the role of your previous guard. A Banshee! Reader x Vampire! Sylus Fic Tags: Sylus x Reader, AU, Crossover, Mentions of War, Blood, Violence, Slow Burn, Enemies to LoversChapter Summary: Perhaps he has bitten more than he can chew when he agreed to travel with you but when the expedition finally comes to a close, an opportunity presents itself. Author's Note: I actually just want to write banter. I joked with my beta reader once if I can just post lines of banter with no context and call it a day. Anyways, sorry if the update on this took awhile. Working on a sewing project recently. Enjoy! AO3 Ch. 1 / Ch. 2

2: Of the Pale Sea and Twin Moons from the Faraway Sky

All that Stayrus can think about is he should have gone with Hoederer’s squad if he knew you would turn him into a burdenbeast.

“You’ll be rich after this contract, Stayrus,” Hoederer told him, patting him on the back while the rest of the mercenaries put away their gear after the Military Commission confirmed that all the Victorian drifters had been neutralized.

There is a degree of truth in his words because after potato peeler returned the initial payment to Ascalon (Begrudgingly since potato peeler is thinking of running away with it at first), the little puppy you call your guard tossed the pouch towards him instead of keeping it.

Why?

Apparently, according to your little shadow, you said that, “I am no longer feeling generous on giving mercenaries job opportunities.” and any mercenary she brings to you is immediately sent out of your tent, most of them pissed at the little Sarkaz for wasting their time.

It is supposed to be an easy job (A paid vacation as they said) for the likes of him who have his name in the top rankings of the Scar Market.

Except, you decided to turn him not only as your guard but a servant as well.

Two weeks have already passed and maybe it is the heat from the Kazdelian wilderness that still permeates at night or perhaps your shit-eating grins that the bounty over your head is growing more enticing to claim with every second passed.

“Too heavy, Stayrus?”

A load of Sarkaz expletives almost rolled out of his mouth upon hearing your question that yes, a gust of the cool night wind is enough to tip him over but he learned on the second day that every mumbled complaint from him will be greatly ‘rewarded’ by you in the form of another pack full of items you picked up along the way.

One of them contains shards. 

Originium shards.

Originium shards that weigh more than five kilograms that you claim will benefit Her Highness greatly and a mercenary should not ask questions so it took him great restraint to snap back at you how exactly a bunch of rocks will help Her Highness feed the nation.

Some emissary you are.

“Don’t you have eyes beneath your veil?”, he replied to you who finds amusement in his suffering even to the point you are matching his pace as if to see when he will break.

“Do you want to check if I do?”

“Are you offering?”

“I am actually feeling incredibly selfish tonight so no, I am not.”

“Just tonight, Miss Banshee? Or everyday?”, he retorted, knowing this is your subtle way of getting back to him over a sweet treat you were deprived of.

Yes, he is sure you only agreed to hire him to punish him for that.

It would have been easier to deal with you if it wasn’t for your little guard quietly hovering behind him, waiting for him to make one false move so she could have an excuse to take him down.

Small as she is, Stayrus can say she is strong for a Sarkaz child after witnessing her take down a bandit twice her size while you just stood by the sideline, cheering for her instead of helping.

Yet, he knows you do not need the little puppy to defend you but he is certain someone had ordered her to follow you around for their piece of mind and he is sure that someone isn’t Her Highness who gave out that task.

Someone else who is equal in importance.

(The little puppy’s skills aren’t acquired on her own, that one he is also sure. Someone trained her, someone very experienced.)

“Do you want to see my eyes that bad, vampire? I am flattered but I am just a humble banshee.”

“A humble banshee that casts a hex at me every time she could.”

“It isn’t my fault I have a willing volunteer.”

“Oh now you are admitting you are doing it on purpose,” he snapped back, keeping track of how many times that you, the most humble of all Banshees as you call yourself, have these little ‘accidents’ every time you weave your own incantations when your group calls it a day.

Accidents that always spared Ascalon but not him.

(“Oh no, I am so sorry, Stayrus!”, you exclaimed the first time it happened before giving him that signature shit-eating grin and you do not feel sorry at all when a pair of Feline ears sprouted on top of his head with a tail of matching color on his behind that only went away after a 24 hours.)

It is clear that you aren’t doing it out of boredom because if anything, you are having a grand time on a barren wasteland of all places.

You did not grace him with a reply even when you always want to have the last word in every conversation with him and that only happens when the strange contraption you call a compass makes a soft ticking sound, your attention immediately towards it.

Stayrus doesn’t need to see your eyes beneath your veil because he is sure you are wearing a manic expression of every scholar who is on the verge of a new discovery.

(Your strange device based on his observation points you to old ruins and no, he didn’t ask why you are so obsessed with wreckages that all it takes is one last sandstorm to be completely erased from the map. If it is even on the map in the first place.)

At least you have other interests other than poking fun at him.

Of course, your little puppy is already right there behind you every time you run off to inspect a building barely holding on, leaving him behind to catch up as if the three of you are tourists and the pale sea is the winding streets of the old city of Iberia, the country of sailors and explorers.

He will just have to bear with you for three months.

Three months of being your guard turned into premium entertainment.

Three months of being subjected to your useless incantations.

Three months of shoving the thought of dragging you to the Scar Market so he can have the price of your head for himself.

After this, he will never entertain offers from Sarkaz children carrying oriron shards equivalent to their weight.

────────────────────

“We are a scattered nation.”

Those are the words Her Highness had told you before you returned to the Convallis after the conclusion of your last expedition. 

You have been good friends with her for many years and aside from the irritating (and ‘amusing’, her words, not yours) tale of meeting Mr. No-Sense-of-Direction that brought a ghost of a smile on her face, your search for the other Sarkaz tribes while mapping Kazdel still made her dismayed.

Perhaps she is right, your bloodkin had long made their exodus, pulling their roots from this rotting land then walking away, never to return.

Gargoyles, the children of soil and stone, have left all known settlements and only their clay figures remain in their homes now gathering dust.

Wendigos, the first of the Sarkaz tribes to walk Terra, has now pledged their allegiance to the Ursine tsar that rules over the harsh tundra where the bears and hippogriffs clash.

Liches, enthralled with their quest for knowledge as ever, are too deep in their debates in their universities scattered across Leithania.

Still, you haven’t lost hope in looking for the rest of your kin, the strange contraption gifted to the Sarkaz Royal Court by Lord of the Liches and then handed to you by Her Highness coupled with the stars shining above the pale sea is sufficient for you to be able to return to the ruins you refused to venture further when you first discover them.

Why?

They are either crawling with bandits or- 

(There was an instance where you had the misfortune of meeting angels with their glowing halos and firearms who wasted their ammos at you once they realized you were a Sarkaz, the devil as they said.)

-The ruins are protected by complex originium altars that you would rather dismantle than destroy them so you can take them back home with you.

(For research purposes, of course.)

“Should I go ahead and do a recon?”, Ascalon asked, her eyes already looking for any entrances and exits on a desolate building ahead of your group.

Your capable guard is always eager to prove herself but why would you let her do such menial tasks when both of you can sit down, eat berry cookies, and have the vampire prick do it?

“No need,” you answered, stretching the syllables out as you slowly turned around to look at Stayrus who returned your grin with a glare.

It thoroughly amuses you when you see a hint of his fangs every time he tries to intimidate you and it does work more than you care to admit, partially because he is ridiculously tall too.

You slowly raised your hand, pointing at the bandits walking about.

 (He did not budge, still looking down at you, not happy at all.)

Then, you pull out your bone pen, the nib beginning to glow with a silver light as you waved it playfully right to his face because you learned along the way he is slowly figuring out how to break free from your go-to hexes.

(He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes and began to put each pack you had him carry one by one on the desert floor.)

Finally, he received a nod of approval from you.

(You chuckled when he intentionally brushed past you, giving you one last staredown before he made his way to clear out the ruins of its unwanted guests.)

“Miss, are you sure? He blew up the previous one two days ago.”

“Oh, he won’t this time.”

Who would have known that the vampire prick who loves inflicting pain upon you using his Arts does not rely on it much on the battlefield?

It certainly surprised you when he suddenly threw an explosive the first time to prevent the bandits from reaching your group and it took your entire being, your soul even, to not tell him to perish right where he stood when you saw a perfectly intact originium altar crumble to dust that you made sure he trip every ten steps he take.

So now, he gives everyone a free concussion with his bare fists, relying on his physical strength alone instead.

How unconventional for a Sarkaz vampire.

Still, you prefer this over the usual mess his kind does, the mess that clings on the walls, the scent of iron and carnage seeping past the cracks of the floor and into the soil because they are a proud race and a proud race usually always ensures the rest are inferior.

A horrifying lot if you say so yourself and now that you think about it-

-He is too in his own way.

The general wouldn’t be so happy once he finds out you hired a mercenary with this strength unless-

(Your gaze fell to Stayrus who was taking on a group of five and even when you and Ascalon stood a good distance from them, the wind carried the failed negotiation attempts from the bandits followed by the cracking of bones because it is clear to you the vampire prick is blowing off steam.)

-Unless you can turn this into your favor.

There is no way you are letting the general put you under house arrest again at the capital, not when your neighbors tried stealing your roof in the middle of the night.

Certainly, he would overlook this if you are able to find him new people for the Military Commission, right?

────────────────────

Ascalon was initially taken under the wing of the general after he and Her Highness found her wandering in the outskirts of the capital after a great sandstorm.

She is a girl from nowhere, no home, no family, her form of communication is mimicking what she hears around her and it is only under the kind tutelage of Her Highness that she began to piece together the sound of the word to their meaning.

Through Her Highness, she learned how to speak.

Through the general, she learned how to wield her blade properly.

Her final test, she would like to believe, is becoming your guard.

If only she has been older, she wouldn’t have to rely on other people, much less a mercenary to fill the gaps of her skills but here she is sleeping with one eye open as she watch over the vampire (“Prick”, you always add every time she refers to the mercenary in private conversation) hover about you since it is his turn to make sure you are not running off again.

Of course, Stayrus is not foreign to children with murderous intent, especially your little puppy who is most likely plotting his death right now in case he decides it is time to cash in that bounty over your head.

It is certainly enticing though, especially when you only let your guard down when you are too occupied writing or making a draft of the ruin your group is in.

It would be quick work, you wouldn’t even have time to speak or hold your pen and the little puppy, deadly as she is in her own right, is well, little.

Yet, he didn’t do any of that.

Instead, he slowly inches towards you, hovering over you so he can observe your work come to life, but he makes sure he still keeps a certain distance so you will not pick up his subtle fascination.

Letters. Each Kazdelian character is printed on every paper you have as if it came from a typewriter. 

Pens. You have a collection of them, all of them with various nibs and handles and your papers are always in a disarray but your pens? No, they are all neatly arranged and always near your reach.

Maps. It finally explains why you walk at this place as if it is the city, how you don’t rely on the fading markers from generations past in this expedition. This isn’t your first trip and he is sure it won’t be your last.

Perhaps he has been too obvious about it recently, standing closer and stooping down your height as you inspect a series of glyphs on a wall.

(Why are you fascinated with a bunch of symbols? He doesn’t know.)

“Bored, Stayrus?”

“I am bored enough to talk to you, Miss Banshee.”

“Oh, are you now? Then, go copy the glyphs for me then.”

“Copy them yourself,”, he replied and he should have just turned around, bearing the effects of whatever hex you have chosen to experiment on him today but curiosity won over and here he is, holding one of your cherished pens.

Unfamiliar.

Daunting.

Intimidating.

Those words are usually reserved for weapons, ones he is more accustomed to carrying yet his fingers trembled as he adjusted his grip, his eyes glancing to check how you held yours.

“A conductor from Leithania always had a steady wrist.”

It was the words from a radio he received from Goodenough, a travelling merchant, who threw it in for free after he invested valuable ingots in his ‘Prospective Investment System’ and it is only after shuffling through all stations during his downtime he stumbled across one who plays the acclaimed classical music of musical geniuses from Leithania.

He had never seen an orchestral performance before, let alone a conductor but perhaps you are one, for the pen seemed to follow your every move, every glide, a curve, every flick, a perfect sentence.

It should be easy, right?

That is until he saw your eager grin when you managed to push your job to someone else morphed into a frown after he turned over his hard work.

“Stayrus, is this your idea of a joke?”

“I’ll never make jokes around the likes of you, Miss Banshee.”

“Oh, is that so? What should we call this then? A new writing system?”

It is the most horrible penmanship you have ever laid eyes upon that if you didn’t specifically ask him to copy those glyphs, you would have thought this is random scribbles from a child.

This is even worse than the first time you ask Ascalon to write her name.

(Her Highness just playfully shrugged when you turned to look at her, knowing she was Ascalon’s first teacher in letters and numbers.)

“Sure, we can call it that way. Inventing is not only limited to smartass scholars like you,” he smirked and your eyes are not deceiving you, he is indeed serious.

For him, he knows this is ammunition for you, a scholar with an ego as high as Mount Karlan who is opportunistic as they come with every insult.

He was expecting you to laugh.

Ridicule him even.

Call him a liar then tell him you will put up this paper for display back at the valley where you came from so you and your literate sisters can laugh at it together over your tea time after you sang your elegies by the riverbank.

Yes, he will die on this hill rather than admit how pitiful he is and the other Sarkaz are in front of another who is fortunate to be born in a paradise.

Instead, you let out a heavy sigh, not when you see the faint hint of red on the tips of his pointed ears.

Mercenaries.

You can always rely on them for physical work but clerical ones?

They are hopeless.

“Alright, Mr. Inventor, let’s see more of your new writing system,” you said, shoving a dried tree branch on his hand.

Rough. These are the hands of someone who grew up picking oriron shards around the furnaces before the overseers tell them to scram.

With your bone pen, you proceed to write the characters of his name in the air. “This is how I write your name in my writing system. Show me yours.”

So that’s how his name is spelled in Kazdelian characters but he is careful not to show his fascination, his eyes flicking back and forth to copy each letter carefully in the sand.

“This is too easy, Miss Banshee.”

(No, it is not easy at all. How is it that his lines are crooked and yours aren’t?)

“Is it now? Your writing system is not so primitive then, vampire.”

(Behind his triumphant smirk at your words, a hint of gratitude for in a distant past, he can still recall the dust that clung on his palms as he stood in his tiptoes outside the window of a classroom only reserved for Sarkaz nobles.)

“Oh it is currently in the works. Unlike those goats in Leithania I have all the time in the world.”

(All the time in the world to improve his penmanship he means.)

The shifting schedule he and Ascalon had agreed upon is now discarded, not when he sends your little puppy to bed just so he can hover around you this time, waiting for you to initiate your lessons.

“Just leave my food by the fire, Ascalon.”

“Not Ascalon.”

“Oh, it’s you again, ‘Not Ascalon’. Here to brag about your new writing system again?”

“It isn’t my fault you are the only available scholar around these parts,” he scoffed and you chuckled in amusement, closing your travel journal and the star maps to make room for him.

Under the ancient stars and the distant glow of the campfire slowly flickering out, you and him sit down together on little chairs, his shoulder almost touching yours as he mumbled under his breath, attributing each letter to the sound it makes as the dried branch that had become a permanent member of his arsenal move across the sand beneath the light of the twin moons.

The fools who always make the banshees their muse were right when they claim your kind’s presence alone strikes inspiration.

Was it the perfume you wear, the aroma of spring that never goes away even under the desert sun?

Is it your voice that does have a melodious note to it when he listens closely?

Or maybe how he can catch a glimpse of the outline of your eyes beneath your veil?

Every now and then, your hand will be on top of his, warm, as you correct the crooked lines and flawed curves of his letters, that he began to see it as a gesture of silent truce.

During these quiet nights, you are his first teacher, he is one of your many students, and this is the closest he can have to a normal life here in Kazdel.

Until you decided to be your usual insufferable self during one of your lessons.

“Oh, Stayrus, just so you know, my teaching lessons only come for free to children or people below 4 feet.”

His eyes almost rolled at the back of his head when he heard your words because of course, her humble banshee’s acts of kindness don't come for free.

(Banshees strike inspiration but you? You strike irritation to him.)

“What? Are you asking for another dessert?”

“Not asking, I am demanding. You owe me two, just so you know.”

“Should I also get on my hands and knees while we are at it?”

He was met by your signature shit-eating grin instead, your hand pointing towards the ground in front you.

Little Miss Banshee really thinks she can get away with anything.

This time, he wouldn’t give you the chance to hex him and it doesn’t matter if your little puppy wakes up with what is about to come next.

A scoff followed by a snap of his fingers and your legs suddenly gave out as you let out a surprised huff.

“So nice of you to show me a demonstration, Miss Banshee,” he said slowly because oh, he is going to relish this first ever victory in this war you have waged and he held your chin, tilting it towards him as he looked down on you from his seat.

Not bad, not bad.

“Well, difficult students learn more when you demonstrate,” you grinned and all you can think about is you will make him eat dirt and maybe sand too.

Perhaps his victory is short and what he learned after is he should cover your mouth next time before you can even retaliate.

If there is a next time.

“KNEEL,” you said, and you almost rolled on the sands in laughter when you saw him on his hands and knees.

Mercenaries are supposed to move based on the actions of their employers but it amuses so much that this vampire prick still has a bone to pick with you even when you (Technically, the Military Commission) has paid him well.

Very well that it should be enough to buy him a ticket to a better off country and start anew yet he still linger in this land, why is that?

“I should charge you extra for this,” he muttered under his breath, both of you still not releasing each other’s Arts but you only smiled in amusement.

Well built.

Stubborn.

Determined.

He might be lacking in the reading and writing area but that can be addressed and oh, you will make his service to you very worthwhile.

Afterall, the general should have more men like him, even if he shares the same features as one of the former Sarkaz kings.

“I can do you even better, Stayrus.”

“Oh really? Are you offering free passes now to the Convallis?”

“Unless you are wearing the Civilight Eterna on your head then no.”

Stayrus didn’t open the letter you tucked on his jacket during the course of your expedition and he only did when you and him parted ways in a mining town after Ascalon handed him his final payment.

(No, there is no tip. Some employer you are.)

Your letter bears the insignia of the Elegiac Court, the gathering of the banshees, and he initially thought this is your one last hex to him once he opens but he still did.

A mercenary is a dispensable tool.

A mercenary lives from hand to mouth.

A mercenary has no place in a country who is slowly sailing towards a future where they are no longer needed.

Even with his limited vocabulary, he can pick up the keywords on the content of your letter and no, it isn’t addressed to him.

‘Recommendation’

‘Stayrus’

‘Worthy’

This letter is addressed directly to the general of the Military Commission.

────────────────────

Her Highness always laughs every time the general brings you up.

It all started as a knowing smile.

Her Highness was but a humble dressmaker serving as an apprentice in the Royal Court back then, gentle, soft spoken, and aside from her brother, the closest she can call for a friend are the sackcloth puppets she made for herself.

There was no place for her and her older brother in the Royal Court run by pureblooded Sarkaz nobles who silently scoffed at their presence, at their mixed ancestry and it was only because they were pupils of Nezzsalem, the commander of the Kazdelian War Council, that they do not have to bear the insults upfront.

(For who would be in their right mind to pick a fight with the commander who carries the scent of decay of all the enemies he had feasted upon?)

Although, only the adults have self-restraint.

It was her favorite sackcloth puppet, a cream colored bunny with blue buttons for eyes, that the children of the nobles tried to rip away from her arms but failed, not because Theresis managed to ward them off as always but of a certain banshee.

Dressed in the finest silks, hair braided lovingly, and carrying the scent of the reeds swaying gently by the stream, there you stand in front of the twins, casting one of your strange spells and sending every person who harassed them running to different directions.

(This is the first time both Theresis and Theresa laughed together in their new home, watching pig’s tail sprout to the noble children that see them unworthy to be there.)

Theresa had offered to mend the rip of your dress after that, and while the older banshees have gently reprimanded you for exploring the great halls of the Royal Court on your own even when you were told to stay put, it was all worth it for you have finally had friends who live outside the Convallis.

For Theresa, you are her first friend.

And for Theresis?

Theresa had a knowing smile on her face when she noticed that her brother, always gloomy for not being allowed to wield a sword just yet back then, always lightens up when they each receive a letter from you.

(Even when you have finally had permission to see the world, your letters will always find a way to reach them, even when they were in the midst of the war that led to Theresis crowning her as the new king, despite the Civilight Eterna having chosen them both.)

“She never wrote a letter of recommendation before.”

It is already late, the halls of the Royal Court are already empty but the streets of the capital are still bustling under the watchful eyes of the twin moons and Theresis can only sighed in resignation when he heard his younger sister laugh at his remark before she replies.

“Didn’t you mention you needed more people in the Military Commission?”

“The letter is unnecessary.”

“Perhaps the mercenary had proven himself a capable soldier.”

It is only after you return from your most recent expedition that the general found out that instead of bringing along his best officers, you and Ascalon went ahead and hired a mercenary.

Not just any mercenary but a rumored pureblooded vampire, the best in the market.

Who would have thought it is also the same vampire you help lead out of the desert during one of your lone explorations? The stranger you held a bitter grudge on for months over a dessert.

Theresis is very close to putting you under house arrest especially when he received news from the accountants that you billed the fees under the Military Commission’s name.

“I will have to see it for myself,” the general answered, and Theresa had known him for so long that he isn’t speaking as the leader of the nation’s military.

Her older brother who claims he is only looking after you because you are too free-spirited for your own good.

(If you are answering to him instead of her, Theresa is sure that her brother would have even accompanied you himself as an excuse to spend time with you, listening to you about your recent discoveries.)

Her older brother who indulges only you when you invite him to dance with the rest of the Sarkaz in the plaza during national holidays.

(“Theresa is already exhausted. Come on, at least try to be approachable,” you always tell him, knowing the rest of the attendees would loosen up if they see their general having fun.)

Her older brother who wears the subtle look of fondness when you show a recent incantation you created.

(Perhaps it is a certain quirk of every banshee to make strange spells for you always find amusement in making Feline ears grow from your unwilling test subjects to making people repeat their words twice when they open one of your journals.)

Is it the pressure of being her right hand man that Theresis contented himself to watch you from the side or perhaps she is looking into it too much? 

Yet, when Her Highness saw the frown on the general’s face as he reread your letter of recommendation for the third time, an idea came to mind.

A rather mischievous one too.

Perhaps a gentle push is all that her older brother needs.

Afterall, aren’t kings supposed to grant the wishes of their subjects?

────────────────────

Author's Note: Don't worry, Miss Banshee will pay for all her crimes (of making his life hell) soon. See you next chapter! AO3 Ch. 1 / Ch. 2