#technically i've had one for him for a lil while | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

frenchkisstheabyss · 26 days ago

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♱ ₮ⱧɆ ⱧɄ₦₲ɆⱤ: Ø₦Ɇ ♱

♱ Pairings: boyfriend!yungi x fem!zombie!reader, detective!seonghwa, detective!san

♱ Genre: horror/angst

♱ Summary: On your way back home from a party you and your boyfriends get into a terrible accident. While they walk away nearly unscathed, you don't walk away at all. The next day while mourning their loss your reanimated corpse finds its way back home and sparks their journey down a very bloody road that pushes the limits of what exactly they're willing to do for love.

♱ Word Count: 5k-ish

♱ Warnings: you're dead, babes, sorry. Undead technically. Mentions of a car accident, some grieving, light descriptions of your undead body, technically necrophilia, blood play, blood drinking, a lil smidge of cannibalism if you squint, masochism, Yungi are like really obsessively dedicated to you, kissing, and a two second handjob to top off this totally normal list of warnings. eventual smut (part two).

♱ A/N: I started this fic, like, a year ago I believe and posted an incomplete version of it but I really do love this fic so I decided to come back and actually finish it. Hopefully this finds all the girls who like spooky stuff the way that I do. If you've read this before, I hope you like what I've added and if you've never read it before, I hope you enjoy it now. I'll be posting the second/final part of it next week so please let me know if you like it.

The rain hasn’t stopped since. It began the moment you died. Sheets of it pouring down from the weeping and endless night sky. Down to the minute, down to the very second that doctors pronounced you dead. And even now, as the morning sun pries itself through a thick fog of gray clouds, it cascades around the quiet little house you called home. One that's been filled with sorrow because you’re lost. The two men inside seated opposite each other at the kitchen table, picking over a thrown together breakfast, have lost you.

And the rain…it hasn’t stopped since.

But Mingi doesn’t mind. Everyone who needs to know has been informed and his phone has been on silent since. The rain’s an armor of sorts. Knowing no one can make the drive out to bother them in this weather has bought him the time he needs to accept a reality that doesn’t feel quite real yet.

“You should eat something” Yunho insists, fork tapping at the edge of his ceramic plate, his own food untouched. He knows it’s nothing special, nothing close to the delicious meals they woke to everyday from you, but he poured everything he had into it.

Mingi raises an eyebrow, swirling the fork an inch or so above his plate before shoving the gleaming silver into the space between the cast on his left arm and his inflamed skin. Every human has two bones in their forearm. The ulna and the radius. Mingi walked away from the car accident having fractured both of them. Yunho, the driver, had gotten lucky with only a few cuts and bruises. A flesh wound to the abdomen. And you, well…

“Can you stop that?” Yunho asks, the sound of the metal back of Mingi’s fork scraping against plaster grating his ears. It isn’t his fault, though his heart aches in a thousand places thinking that it is. Mingi doesn’t blame him. He couldn’t have predicted the oncoming truck would swerve the way it did. No, he blames the world but, isolated between these eerily quiet walls, Yunho is all there is to it.

Mingi scratches faster, deriving some relief from the sting that comes along with it. “I’m sorry, is this bothering you?”

Yunho breathes in and back out. In and back out again. Deep, full breaths meant to calm his boiling rage at that incessant screeching. Mingi doesn’t mean to do this. He’s just hurting. They both are. “Just ignore it” Yunho tells himself “Ignore him. Ignore the burning in the pit of your stomach. Ignore the tears.”

“Stop it before you hurt yourself!” Yunho shouts, snatching the fork from Mingi’s hand.

Blinking, his eyes dart over to his empty chair and back to a shocked Mingi. Yunho isn’t sure how he got over here. He doesn’t even remember getting up. A tear runs down his cheek, the exhaust from an overheated engine, and he swiftly wipes it away.

Mingi hangs his head, ashamed of his immaturity pushing Yunho a little too far. “I’m sorry” he says, sniffing back tears of his own, “But it hurts so much. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. I just want her back”.

Yunho tosses the fork onto the table, taking Mingi into his arms just as he breaks down into tears, “I know, I want her back too. I’d give anything to see her smile or hear her call my name again.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A rattling at the front door lighter than a toddler’s, light enough that it’s nearly lost to the rain. “Yunie! Mingi!” a voice calls sweetly, broken and the faintest bit horse but distinctly yours. The blood in their veins runs ice cold, the color draining from their faces. The men look to each other, desperate for confirmation that they haven’t lost their minds.

“Did you—” Mingi starts, rising from his chair, careful not to make a sound.

Yunho nods, moving towards the front door, with Mingi close behind. They tiptoe down the hall, floorboards creaking here and there as they pass framed photos of the three of you together. “Open. Please. Cold. So cold” your voice croaks once more, Yunho’s fingers inches from grasping the doorknob.

Mingi slips off to the side, peeking through one of the curtains, and his heart nearly stops from what he sees. “Open the door! It’s her!” he shouts, pushing Yunho aside to unlock the door.

Yunho slams it shut, unable to wrap his mind around what’s happening, “What do you mean it’s her? It can’t be her!”

“It’s her! I swear! Open the door!” Mingi begs, gripping the doorknob tightly enough that his hand’s begun to redden, “Yunho, please.”

There has to be an explanation for this. Some shared hallucination fueled by their grief. They’re only hearing things, they must be, but Mingi seems to need this and Yunho can’t bring himself to deny him of it. “Okay” he sighs, backing away from the door, “Do it.”

Mingi wastes no time tearing it open, rain pouring in as you limp across the threshold. The two towering men shrink at the sight of you, terror freezing one where he stands and making the other retreat into a corner.

Barefoot and soaking wet, you wear the tattered, blood stained dress you were rushed to the hospital in. In death your skin has paled, broken blood vessels giving your lips a light blue hue. Behind you is a trail of muddy footprints, marking your journey up the front stairs to this place you call home.

It’s a blur. Your death and your return. It’s all a series of broken memories, fragmented pieces of film that make you dizzy each time you attempt to piece them together. You can only recall a party filled with dancing and laughter. Headlights brighter than the sun. Screaming. A dark place. A coldness eating at your bones. Then, like magic, you were here, dragging yourself up to the front door with blistered feet and an unnerving stillness in your chest.

Turning to meet the faces of the men you love, faces that haven’t once failed to light up in your presence, you’re puzzled by their fear. Noticing Mingi’s injured arm, you run your fingers down his cast.

“Mingi hurt?” you grunt softly.

His eyes blur with tears and he blinks them away, quickly conjuring up a lie to soothe your worries. “Only a little. I was working on something out back and, well, you know how clumsy I can be, but it’s nothing” he says, smiling through the tears.

You return the comforting gesture with a smile of your own, placing a frozen palm against the warm wetness of his cheek. “Liar. Mingi hurt. And…sad?”

“No, baby, not sad. I’m just happy to see you. We’re happy to see you, aren’t we?” Mingi looks to Yunho, confident that he feels the same way, but finds instead that he’s alone in his joy.

Backed so far into a corner that he might as well be a part of the wood paneling, this is nothing short of a nightmare for him. This is unnatural. Far beyond anything that should be possible. You, the real you, is lying on a slab in a morgue somewhere. Whatever’s standing before him is something he can’t bring himself to trust.

“Yunie hurt too?” you ask, turning your attention to the bruising around his jaw. You hobble over to him, nearly touching his hand before he snatches it away.

“Don’t touch me.”

His rejection is so alien to you that you don’t even process it as such, reaching out for him again. “Yun—”

Your fingers skim his, making his skin crawl. “Don’t touch me!” he yells, slinking clear of your grasp. “I don’t know what you are but you’re not her. She is dead. You are dead.”

“Me? Dead?” The word sends more memories racing through your head. The taste of wine. Your favorite. Mingi’s arms around your waist. A high pitched ringing in your ear. The beeping of machines. The visions drown you in an overwhelming sense of sadness that makes you want to crumble into pieces.

“No! Don’t listen to him!” Mingi says, filling the space between you and Yunho,“You’re not dead, baby. You’re here with us and it’s a gift.” Ignoring the nagging pain of his injury, Mingi lifts you up into his arms, cradling you like a baby as he carries you up the stairs.

“Now how about we get you cleaned up?”

“Take bath? Bubbles?”

Mingi laughs, smitten with you even in your undead form, “If that’s what you want, of course.”

Yunho slides down to the floor, growing catatonic as he zones out to the sounds that come from above. The running of bathwater, his best friend’s laughter, and the broken words of some kind of monster. This has to be a nightmare. All he needs to do is wait it out until he wakes up.

“Wake up” he whispers like Dorothy clicking her heels together three times to escape the land of Oz, “Wake up. Wake up…”

Two showers, one long bath, and a few hours cuddled under the blankets with Mingi. That’s all it takes for you to begin to look more like yourself. You’re far from what you used to be, signs of your time as a lifeless corpse still showing through, but you’re coming back to yourself and, however long that takes, Mingi’s more than willing to wait it out.

While you’ve refused to eat, despite the grumbling of your empty stomach, he’s managed to keep you happy with movies and games which now litter the bed and the area around it. Much to Mingi’s dismay, beating him at everything is something you picked up on quickly. You’ve only been back to life for a few hours and already you’re kicking his ass again.

“Play again?” you ask, excitedly spreading your winning Uno hand out on the blanket.

Mingi yawns, the sleep he lost last night beginning to catch up with him, but he shuffles the deck for a new game anyway. He knows he can’t keep this up much longer. His lids are growing heavy and his focus is waning but he can’t, for any reason, allow himself to drift off to sleep. While Yunho may be somewhere in this house terrified by the possibility that this isn’t just a dream, Mingi’s been haunted by the very real possibility that it might be. What if he closes his eyes and you’re gone again? That’d mean losing you twice and his heart can’t survive breaking for you a second time.

As Mingi deals the cards, you glance around your bedroom with fresh excitement. Every new color or scent brings your dulled senses back to you if only briefly. And every item has a memory attached to it. Some vague, some incredibly vivid, but all serve as a suitable feast for a brain hungry to recover what once was. Just as your focus hones in on a pair of fluffy puppy shaped slippers by the door, you catch a tall figure looming in the doorway.

Halfway obscured by the wall, Yunho watches you the way a scientist would its test subject. Simply observing, waiting for you to do something that proves you’re an imposter. But you only smile at him the way you always have, making him feel strangely welcomed to enter the room.

Coming up here was far from his intention. The rain had let up almost immediately after your arrival and he’d picked up the car keys a half dozen times to leave. Once he got as far as the end of the driveway before he turned back, making it further up the steps each time until finally gaining the courage to face you.

And it is you. Despite the words he spat in fear and anger, he felt your energy all around him when he first heard your voice and that feeling’s grown in intensity every minute since.

“Are you playing or are you just gonna watch like a pervert?” Mingi teases.

Yunho steps from behind the wall, arms folded across his chest, “If I recall correctly you’re the one who likes to watch” he shoots back, cautiously entering the bedroom.

“Ha” you snort, sorting through your hand, “Like with sex and stuff.”

“Oh, I see you’ve been helping her get her language skills back. Starting with the important words first, huh?”

“Playing or watching? You pick. Quickly” you insist, patting Yunho on the arm, his prior reaction momentarily slipping your mind.

He winces a little, jogging your memory, and you go to pull away but he stops you, taking your hand into his. It’s like holding hands with a block of ice, making sense of the baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants you’re curled up in. What you said on the other side of the door had been true. Cold. So cold.

Yunho’s thumb traces the blue collapsed veins down the back of your hand, brushing past your knuckles to an empty space on your ring finger. There used to be two gorgeous silver rings there, part of a set of six that he and Mingi had made for all of you.

“Mingi says we’ll get back, won’t be a problem. Right, Mingi?” Your question’s met with the sound of snoring, a few seconds without stimulation being just what Mingi needed to drift off to sleep. You crawl up the bed to lay down beside him, poking at his cheek. “Mingiiii” you sing, softly flicking at his plush bottom lip.

Yunho slips in on the other side of you, pulling your fingers away from Mingi’s face. “Maybe we don’t do that” he laughs, “We should let him rest. I think he’s tired.”

“Mingi’s tired and what about you?” you ask, rolling over to face him. The color of your eyes are marbled between the paleness of death and their natural shade. It’s bizarre but beautiful in a way that mesmerizes him.

“Tell me, have you eat and sleep?” You pet his hair, watching it twirl around your fingertips in bouncy brown wisps. Being touched by you, it’s something he thought he’d never feel again, and the joy of it makes him want to cry almost as much as the fear did.

“It’s ‘eaten and slept’ but no, I haven’t. I couldn’t” he says, “I’d ask you but…”

Your stomach grumbles, announcing its hunger. You hadn’t eaten before the accident. The party you were headed home from had been overflowing with alcohol but food, at least any you were interested in, was in short supply.

“I can cook for you. We haven’t been shopping but I’m sure I can whip up something.”

You shake your head, having already gone through this with Mingi, “Nothing really tastes good but the smells help.”

“The smells? What smells?”

“Mmm” you hum, sniffing the side of Yunho’s neck, “You and him. Your smell makes me warm inside.”

Nuzzling your nose against his neck, you inhale the scent beneath his cologne. The natural oils of his body are more fragrant than anything that comes in a bottle. You rest a hand on his heart, feeling it pound as your lips meet his heated skin like ice against fire.

Yunho can’t help but feel guilty about the way his body responds to you. He can’t manage to fight the instinct to bring you closer, massaging the fullness of your curves through the thick cotton of your clothing. You part your lips, dragging your tongue along veins that rush with hot, fresh blood. As they pulse below the surface of his skin, yours begin to pulse as well, matching the rhythm.

“I…I’m not sure we should be doing this” Yunho stutters, his hands betraying his words to move under your sweatshirt and reacquaint themselves with the rise of your hips and the hills of your breasts. His lust for you only makes the blood pump through his body faster, worsening your hunger.

“But I need you to keep me warm inside. Please don’t let me be cold again” you beg, sinking your teeth into his neck. Blood drips from his wounds, coating your tongue, pooling in the bottom of your mouth. It’s the taste of life, draining his to restore yours, and you’re ravenous for it.

Yunho screams out in pain, sacrificing a few shreds of flesh to tear himself free of you. “You bit me! Why would you do that?” he cries, stumbling to his feet, his sleeve pressed to his neck to control the bleeding.

On your hands and knees, you move to the edge of the bed like a lioness prowling for her next meal. Your eyes swell with tears at the pain you’ve inflicted but your mouth salivates at the delectable taste of his blood. The ecstacy of it sliding down your throat makes you feel more alive than you did when you actually were.

“I’m sorry, Yunho. I didn’t mean to hurt you, really. I think I’m just, mmm, hungrier than I thought” you pout, speaking with perfect clarity for the first time.

“Hungrier? Are you…you’re trying to eat me?”

“Eat you? Of course not. I would never. I only needed a nibble to make me better.” You raise your shirt, stroking your exposed skin as it grows plumper and warmer to the touch. “Come feel me. Touch me.”

Your voice is like a spell, drawing Yunho back in. Your body sings out to him, whispering how badly it longs for him. He wants you, though he shouldn’t. The searing pain in his neck dulls at the realization. It gets him off seeing that you need him this desperately. Not only for pleasure but to survive.

Approaching the bed again, Yunho lowers his blood stained sleeve from his neck and caresses your body. The red liquid coating his fingers sticks to you like candy, leaving a trail of red along your belly. You lean into him, sliding a hand up his thigh to palm the growing bulge in his jeans. He lets out a satisfied moan, lightly tugging at your hair so that your head’s tilted back, sparkling eyes gazing up at him.

“What are you?” he whispers with whatever speck of sanity he has remaining.

His bloody fingers find your mouth and you lazily lick them clean, savoring the taste. All the while your own hand’s undoing his zipper to stroke his length, your thumb circling the moist tip of his cock.

“What am I?” you giggle, “I’m yours, aren’t I?”

Releasing his middle finger from the suction of your soft lips, you push his sweater up to kiss your way across his lower stomach. Every kiss has his cock twitching in your grasp as his fingers tangle deeper into your hair, keeping you in place.

And then you find it. The perfect spot. You aren’t sure how you know but you just do. You suckle at his skin, letting your teeth gently pierce the surface until your tongue’s reintroduced to the taste of his blood. Yunho grits his teeth through pain that only makes the adrenaline rush that follows all the more pleasurable.

“I’m still yours, aren’t I, Yunie?” you ask, his flesh still filling the space between your teeth.

Yunho pulls your head back and leans down to kiss you, the feeling of your lips against his worth the faint metallic taste that comes along with it.

“Of course you are, baby” he whispers, “You’ll always be mine and I’ll never let anything hurt you again. I promise.”

You lay back on the bed, pulling him on top of you, and wrap your legs around his waist. Yunho tears at your clothes, kissing you ravenously as if he’s the one with the undead hunger that must be fed. He’s ready to rip them off of you and take you right here with no regard at all for the best friend sleeping an inch away from you. But a loud banging at the downstairs door snaps him out of it, stirring Mingi from his sleep in the process.

Mingi jolts upright in bed, on the verge of a heart attack, “Huh? What? What’s happening?” He glances over just in time to catch Yunho climbing off of you to zip his pants back up, the blood from your second bite already showing through his clothes.

You reach back to rub Mingi's leg, your view of him inverted, “Mingi, be calm.”

“Be calm?” he shouts, jumping to inspect the blood on your face, “Answer me now. What happened?”

The banging on the front door gets louder and Yunho throws a “Ssh” at Mingi, sneaking to the window to get a peek at the unexpected visitors.

“Don’t shush me! Why’s there blood and why were you…”

Yunho turns around slowly, eyes wide and hands trembling, “Mingi, shut up.”

“No, not until one of you tells me what’s going on and who the hell is that?”

The banging continues, shaking the door so hard the hinges creak. Yunho sits back down on the bed, his brain firing off in a hundred directions at once. He wishes the knocking at the door were another minion of the undead—some corpse you accidentally drug back with you from the trenches of the morgue—but what awaits him this time, what awaits all of you, is something far worse.

“It’s the fucking cops.”

Detective Choi has heard of a lot of strange things happening when it comes to dead bodies but one thing’s for sure, they don’t just get up and walk away by themselves. And if one were to miraculously rise from the dead it’d no doubt be too busy hunting for brains to tamper with hospital security footage.

“So you’re saying you do believe in zombies then?” Detective Park teases from the passenger’s seat of his partner’s car. Fishing a small box of chocolate milk from the pocket of his black trenchcoat, Detective Park kicks his feet up on the dashboard and pops a straw in to enjoy his daily sweet treat.

Detective Choi grimaces at him from behind the wheel, his malice rooted in both that dig about zombies and his partner’s indulgence in room temperature dairy. “How do you drink that shit? Do you know how much sugar’s in that?”

“I’m sorry, would you prefer I bring some joy to my day with a nice protein shake? Maybe get real crazy with some unseasoned chicken breast?”

It’s tempting for Detective Choi to punch him in the arm for that but they’re already investigating one car wreck. The last thing he needs to do is cause another one. “Ooh, that’s a cheap shot” he grumbles, drumming on the steering wheel, “I’ll remember that.”

Ignoring that trademark grumpiness he’s come to love, Detective Park sips away at his drink as he watches the wide green fields of the countryside roll by. The rain has finally stopped—thank god—but a few leftover droplets remain on the window, reflecting in the low light like crystals. It’s a beautiful sight for what feels like such a dark, strange day. He’s seen a dozen car accidents before but none like this. A missing corpse and a missing suspect with zero prior connections to each other and not a crumb of evidence to help them locate either. Something’s just not adding up. He takes a deep breath to steel himself, knowing what he’s about to say might open up a can of worms. “So you really think these two know something?”

Detective Choi stops at a lonely intersection, checking the map on his phone before turning down a winding, tree lined road. Between the storm and the rough cell service this far out, he’s had to return to the archaic act of finding his own way and he hates it. “I know that these two know something. I can’t explain it but I feel it in the pit of my stomach.”

A feeling in the pit of your stomach is far from enough proof to investigate someone but Detective Park can’t deny that he feels it too. There’s an answer out here begging to be found if only they knew the right questions to ask. “For once I’m on your side with this. Just try not to let them notice our suspicions. Ya know, control your face when we get in there” he warns.

Detective Choi frowns, displaying his inability to do just that, “Control my face, what does that mean?”

“Control my face, what does that mean?” Detective Park mocks, mimicking his partner’s sour expression, “Hey, wait, I’m not done with that!”

It’s too late. The window’s already down and Detective Choi has sent his last few sips of chocolate milk flying to the side of the road. “Oh, look! We’re here!” he laughs, turning up the dirt driveway leading to a lone house tucked behind the trees.

Detective Park mourns the loss of his snack only for a moment before his attention’s drawn to the tall maroon house. Its modern architecture stands in stark contrast to its rural surroundings, appearing more like a retreat than somewhere people would actually live. The car comes to a stop behind another that’s positioned awkwardly in the driveway. It’s as if someone backed up to leave but stopped short and ran back in for something.

“I thought their car was totaled” Detective Choi comments, already hopping out to inspect the car before them. Detective Park is on his heels, working double time to stop him from doing anything that might compromise the case. “Don’t do that!” he whispers, swatting Detective Choi’s phone away.

“Too slow. I got it” the other man gloats, flashing a picture of the back of the car, license plate included.

“They aren’t suspects. We can’t go in treating them like they are. We’re about to tell them their girlfriend’s body’s missing, San. For the love of god.”

Detective Choi shrugs, charting a path to the front door, “No can do. I’m an atheist, remember?”

Bang, bang, bang! His strong fist meets the wood of the door as he surveys the porch, keeping an eye out for anything that might be out of the ordinary. Detective Park grabs him by the wrist, “You don’t have to knock like you’re the police.”

“We are the police, Seonghwa. Plus you said this was important right? They must be informed. It’s our duty.” Detective Choi raises his free hand, banging at the door a few more times before his partner’s grabbing his other wrist.

“Yes but we don’t want to scare them, we need to…” Detective Park steps back to peer at the upstairs window, sure that he caught a glimpse of someone peeking out at them. It could’ve been a trick of the light, maybe a bird whipping through the overcast sky, but he’s positive that the curtain moved. “Go ahead” he says, hands on his hips, “They’re in there.”

Detective Choi’s excited, maybe a bit too excited, to be given free reign to do as he wishes with no resistance. He continues to bang at the door as Detective Park remains on the lookout for further movement in the windows but the curtains remain still. No movements. No shadows. And then the clicking of a lock.

“Um, hi, can I help you with something?” Mingi asks, cracking the door only enough to get a good look at the well dressed men. The detectives fish out their wallets, flashing their identification.

“I’m Detective Choi San and this is my partner Park Seonghwa. We understand you had an accident last night and we have a few updates on the case that we’d like to speak with you about.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence as the men size each other up, Mingi refusing to open the door another inch even when Detective Park comes forward to extend a hand. Mingi leans his head against the door, raising his cast, “Sorry, can’t, broke it. What is it that you needed to tell me? I was busy resting, you know, car accident and everything.” Detective Choi detects attitude and there’s plenty of it. Mingi doesn’t want them here. He knows what they’re about to tell him, two things he already knows and he doesn’t want to discuss either with anyone, let alone the cops.

“We’re sorry for your loss” Detective Park says kindly, “I know this must be a difficult time for you but please, this conversation can’t wait. Could we come in?”

“Come in for what? Why…”

“Officers, I’m sorry about that” Yunho apologizes, pushing Mingi aside to open the door, “It has been a difficult time and we’re all handling it differently. Please, come in.”

Mingi gives Yunho a look that says he doesn’t need him to apologize on his behalf. Yunho gives him a look that says he does if he wants to stay out of prison. Mingi waits by the door, forcing a smile as Yunho guides the officers into the kitchen.

“Sure, let them in” Mingi mumbles, slamming the door shut, “Why not let them search the place while you’re at it? ‘Hey officers, wanna take a look in the shed’?”

“What’s in the shed?” you whisper from atop the stairs. You’ve managed to crouch down in a corner where no one can see you, only half of your face visible as you peek out to eavesdrop on Mingi.

Mingi whips around, placing a finger over his lips as a warning not to speak, but there’s something else there too. A refusal to answer the question and an unfamiliar darkness forbidding you from asking it again. “What’s in the shed, Mingi?” your eyes ask what your mouth can’t and you’re met with the same answer.

“Ssh” he gestures, taking a leisurely stroll towards the kitchen where the three other men have already taken their seats. Mingi chooses to stand, leaning in the doorway as he observes the conversation.

“Missing? What do you mean missing?” Yunho asks. His performance of a man in shock is nearly perfect if only to the detectives. To Mingi, who already knows the truth, it’s a bit much.

“Who’s missing?” Mingi throws in for good measure, making sure their shock is a united front.

“Her body, they said her body is missing. How does a body go missing?”

“Look, we’re as confused as you. This is far from a normal occurrence. We have our people working right now to recover the surveillance footage” Detective Park reassures them.

Detective Choi leans forward, his suspicions reading in his expression despite his best efforts, “How’d you two get home from the hospital?”

Yunho crosses his arms, displeased with the inflection of the detective’s voice, “A friend picked us up.”

“And that car out there? Has it moved at all?”

“There’s three of us…were three of us. We need more than one car and no it hasn’t moved.”

“So you’ve been here since your friend dropped you off then? You haven’t left once?”

“I don’t like how you’re talking to us” Mingi snaps, “You’re acting like we did something wrong. Do you see us? We get into an accident, we lose someone we love, you tell us her body is missing and this is how you treat us?”

Detective Park cuts his eyes at Detective Choi who settles back into his chair to cool off. “That isn’t our intention at all. My partner can be a tad aggressive but we do need to know these things. There’s something else too.” He waits for the room to calm down before he speaks again, “The driver who hit you…he’s missing too.”

“Missing?” Yunho asks without missing a beat, “What do you mean he’s ‘missing’?”

Mingi erupts into a heavy, exhausted laughter. “Her body is gone, her killer is gone, and you’re here asking us about a fucking car? Grade A detective work. Really.”

“Look, he posted bail. There’s nothing we could do about it” Detective Choi sighs, his own frustration with the legal system washing over him. “According to his wife he never made it home. Still there’s no evidence that he has anything to do with the disappearance of her body. When would he have had time?”

Detective Choi’s gaze lingers on Yunho who averts his eyes, refusing to entertain his speculation. Instead, he directs his attention to Detective Park who seems to be the more sympathetic of the two.

“You think I stole my girlfriend’s dead body?”

Detective Park can’t quite say yes but he can’t quite say no. His gut’s never wrong, something’s not right here, but what that is he can’t imagine. “That’s not what we’re saying. This is just bizarre, you have to admit that.”

Yunho flicks on his charm, giving Detective Park that same innocent look he always threw at you after an argument. “We understand that but we swear to you, we don’t know anything. All we want is her body back so that she can be laid to rest properly. I think she deserves that, don’t you?”

The detectives nod, the weight of the grief permeating these walls finally hitting them. Detective Park digs a card out of his jacket pocket, slipping it across the table to Yunho. “You just promise us if there’s anything you know or something you can remember, you’ll call us.”

Yunho picks it up, inspecting the exquisite ink stamped into overpriced paper, “We promise.”

It’s a lie and everyone in this room knows it. They know more than they’re leading on, much more than even you do, but they’d rather rip their teeth out one by one than say a word. Some secrets are better left buried and the moment the detectives leave it will be.

The shed.

You stand barefoot in the wet grass, watching it from a distance. You’re vigilant, staring it down as if it might grow legs and walk away if you blink for too long. Unlike you, there’s nothing otherworldly about it. It’s made of cedar. Big enough to fit a small work desk, the lawnmower, and whatever else the boys needed to fix things around the house.

You’ve watched Mingi drag a grill out of there once or twice on nice summer days when you had a barbecue craving and driving into the city was too much of a hassle. Still, a sense of foreboding overcomes you as you approach it. Mingi’s face flashes in your mind with each step. The silent pleading for you to let this go. For your own good or for his?

Clutching a small silver key in your hand, you reach out to touch the heavy padlock on the door. Your fingertips barely skim it when you hear a low, guttural hum from inside. It’s low enough that any human might miss it but you aren’t just any human. Not anymore.

The smell coming from inside turns your stomach. It’s blood. Different from Yunho’s or Mingi’s. There’s no sweetness to it. You aren’t tempted by the scent. It’s stale like a plate of food that’s been left out on the counter all night. It’s enough to make you want to turn around but you can’t. You have to know.

Slipping the key into the lock, you take a deep breath, bracing yourself as you twist it open.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Mingi shouts, bursting through the back door.

He advances on you with a speed you’ve never seen before, slamming his shoulder into the shed before you can get it open. The panic overtaking him seeps from his body and right into yours. Suddenly it feels like the world’s about to end and you’re responsible for it.

“Leave her alone!” Yunho calls after him, “They’re gone.”

“How do you know that? They could come back! What then? Are you gonna explain it to them?”

“Explain what?” you ask, grabbing onto the door handle. “What’s in the shed, Mingi?”

It’s a battle of will. Mingi pressing his weight against the door. You gripping the handle like your life depends on it. You’ll be here all night if that’s what it takes for you to get in and he’ll be right here with you, intent on keeping you out.

“There are some things you weren’t meant to see,” he says through gritted teeth.

For his part, Yunho seems indifferent. The shock of seeing you rise from the grave did something to him. It pushed him into his worst nightmare, beyond that even. What else could there be to fear? “She’s already dead. What exactly are we protecting her from?”

As much as it pains Mingi to admit it, Yunho’s right. You’ve already experienced horror beyond anything either of them could imagine. There’s nothing to protect you from. But that really isn’t the problem. It isn’t you who needs protecting, it’s them. It’s the way you see them now and what you’ll think when you open that door. Mingi steps aside, shoulders slumped as he watches you click the padlock open.

It falls to the ground, the wooden door gradually creaking open to reveal what’s inside. Gardening equipment. A rake, a couple of shovels, a lawn mower, boxes filled with old clothes marked for donation, and a filthy blanket that’s breathing. Blankets don’t breathe but whatever’s under it? That’s a different story entirely.

You swallow hard, your body tensing as you reach out to tear the blanket away. You stumble back at the sight of it, landing hard in the grass as a set of piercing blue eyes stare back at you. They tell a quiet tale of agony, the blood and bruises that pepper the man’s skin, doing more than enough to tell you it’s true.

“Don’t feel bad for him” Mingi rasps, any shred of regret absent from his voice, “He didn’t feel bad for what he did to you.”

Yunho kneels down at your side, a finger on your cheek to turn you towards him. “Tell me, sweetheart. Are you still hungry?”

#mingi x reader #yunho x reader #song mingi x you #song mingi x reader #yunho x you #ateez x female reader #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez angst #yunho angst #mingi angst

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orchidyoonkook · 2 years ago

Text

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.

Intimate. That would be a better choice.

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing.

You just lost all your tips for the night.

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.

Fuck.

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it.

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.

No one serves him but you.

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath.

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased.

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.

No one calls the Devil by his first name.

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.

No one except you.

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.

The King of Hell.

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.

And maybe he is.

But not to you.

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.

Yoongi.

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.

And he looks like sin incarnate.

Fitting.

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you.

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.

Beautiful.

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait—

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?”

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.

You’ve decided.

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait.

And apparently neither does Yoongi.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.

You trust Yoongi.

“That's a good girl.”

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.

You’re the most powerful person here.

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you.

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.

Perfect in every single way.

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.

Not yet.

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.

Ever.

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.

There was only you.

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming.

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need.

It’s yours.

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?”

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.”

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.

You just know it.

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.

You never expected anything like that.

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.

Because of you.

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that.

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.

He was yours now.

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

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chvoswxtch · 1 year ago

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hi my love, my sweetness!! congrats again on 4K you deserve it so much and I love youuu!!

I know the cafe is technically closed but I thought maybe if I flirt a bit with the owner, who’s such an amazing lovely person who writes excellent fics, I thought I might be able to order a drink or two (only if there’s time and of course fine if not<3)

so could I order a macchiato over ice for Frank or Hotch. how would they be/react if they saw you in their clothes? I think both are so territorial and like daddies and if they saw you just in their sweatshirt or jacket or whatnot in a completely innocent situation they’d lose it. Let’s not even get started on at home or bedroom related

love you thank you for sharing your writing with us <333

SWEET BABY D!!!!

oh i've missed you so. thank you so much my sweet. you can order anything you want <3

sjdkshdsjkd do you know how absolutely feral hotch would go if he came home after a shitty week & saw you wearing one of his dress shirts bc i'm going feral just thinking about it so let me paint you a lil picture

as a reminder, over ice means it's spicy ! (minors dni)

headcannon below the cut

aaron hotchner likes you in his clothes

let me set the scene for ya. it's been a long week for our bau daddy, dealing with narcissistic psycho killers & keeping all his kids in line (the rest of the bau), & the frustrations are high when he finally steps off the jet. he doesn't even stay back to handle the mountain of paperwork waiting for him, that's how fed up he is

when he finally makes it home, it's well after midnight, & he's so tired he doesn't even wanna take a nice hot shower like he usually does to unwind. he just wants to fall into bed & let the exhaustion take over

but when he passes by the kitchen, he instantly freezes, bc there you are standing by the counter, having a lil midnight snack (eating ice cream straight out of the tub), wearing nothing but one of his dress shirts. and when I say nothing, I mean hotch can tell you are wearing absolutely nothing underneath

his eyes quickly darken with pure lust & his cock is already half hard when he stalks over towards you with determined steps

the spoon is still in your mouth when you notice him, a smile stretching across your lips around it before you lick off the sweet remnants & slip it out of your mouth

"hey, how was the c-"

you don't even get a chance to finish that sentence bc hotch cuts you off by grabbing the back of your neck to capture your mouth in a heated kiss & he does not hold anything back as he pushes you up against the counter

his kiss is aggressive & needy, & the muffled moan that escapes you tastes delicious on his tongue. his fingers make quick work of unbuttoning the few buttons you'd had done, but he doesn't push it off your shoulders. oh no, he wants you to keep it on

his hands roam over your newly exposed skin, greedily grabbing at your breasts to squeeze them roughly, his thumb & index fingers toying with your sensitive nipples knowing it'll get you all riled up for him, & the sounds you make let him know it's working

he grabs your hand & guides it to his belt, & without hesitation you follow his silent command, your nimble fingers unbuckling it while he sheds his suit jacket & tie

in a flash he swiftly spins you around & bends you over the counter, bunching the bottom of his shirt up around your hips, & he spreads your legs further apart with his foot

he wastes no time pushing forward, burying his cock deep without warning, his hand quickly covering your mouth to contain your sharp moan. his other hand has a bruising grip on your hip as he leans forward & hisses in your ear

"be quiet."

the sensation of your warm, tight walls completely enveloping his cock makes his brain go blank. he can't focus on anything else other than how good you feel. he immediately begins snapping his hips, fucking you hard & fast while grunting in your ear

with every powerful thrust, the stress & tension built up in his body from this week starts to fade, & the pleasure rapidly builds. even though he's chasing a much needed release, he's not selfish, so he slips his hand between your thighs & begins to strum swift circles over your clit with two of his fingers

he lets out a quiet, wrecked groan in your ear when he feels your pussy start to contract around him, the muffled moans against his palm only heightening his arousal. as badly as he wants to hear you fall apart, he doesn't wanna wake up jack

when he feels your body seize up as you come, hotch squeezes his eyes shut & lets out a strangled groan, gripping your waist tightly with both hands as his hips start to stutter

"fuck fuck fuck."

he comes hard, spilling deep within your snug walls, emptying himself completely. the way your cunt continues to contract around his cock milks him of every drop he has to offer, & it makes him let out a shuddering breath

placing both of his palms down on the counter to steady himself, he buries his face into your hair, panting heavily. if he wasn't exhausted before, he sure as hell is now, but he's definitely more calm. a breathless laugh leaves your lips before you speak

"well, hello to you too."

letting out a breathless chuckle of his own, hotch smiles & wraps one of his arms around your waist, pressing a soft kiss to your neck

"sorry, hi."

reaching one of your hands back to caress his face with your hand, you hum softly with a grin

"missed me that much, huh?"

leaning into your gentle touch, hotch's smile turns into a full blown grin

"always. but I have to say, I love your choice in pajamas tonight."

glancing down at yourself, it clicks that seeing you in his shirt is what set hotch off, & a devilish smirk spreads across your lips

"i'll keep that in mind. sir."

in conclusion if you hear screaming from across the world it is me

#court's 4k followers celebration #court's 4k friends celebration #court's cafe #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x f!reader #aaron hotchner headcannon #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner request #criminal minds #criminal minds headcannon #criminal minds smut #criminal minds request

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luminique · 7 months ago

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hii hii lumii !! I ADORE your interpretation of lighter so far— I love him smm

anyways, I hope my req is okay but I was wondering if you could do a comfort fic ? maybe reader has been a lil distant lately and just in some feels and he gives them a lil talk after being blown off here and there to find out they were having issues w their mental health and not feeling good enough and maybe he’s caught off guard because reader is usually so out going and always has a smile on their face and to see them feel so small makes him wanna take care of them so much and gives them so much reassurance and gentle kisses and cuddles 👉👈

I hope it’s okay !! I’ve been in the feels lately

hi anonn !! im gonna answer this one first because i've been in the feels too and i think we all deserve some reassurance, especially after all of the sad lighter story.

i don't take lighter for the kind to be too intrusive. that's not to say that he doesn't notice the way you're staring off into the distance, as if always having something on your mind. or the way you left earlier than usual for the SoC's nightly hangouts around the fire. or the way you had just been distancing yourself from him.

maybe you just needed a day, or two, and so he waited. he waited, and waited, but it just seemed like it was getting worse. he was beginning to get anxious, coming up with possibilities and worse case scenarios. even his favorite grape-flavored lollipop couldn't reduce the anxiety that was building up inside of him as he followed after you one night.

he shook off his nerves, spending quite a bit of time at the front door of your lodging while in blazewood. mentally practicing what to say so that he wouldn't make things even worse than they already were. one step, two deep breaths, three knocks on your door. he cleared his voice, usually confident and smooth but now carried a hint of worry in it.

"hey, uh... everything alright?"

you could hear the ruffling of his jacket, the soft metal clinks of his gloves. he didn't dare open the door until you allowed him to, so he waited, just like he always had. "lighter? yeah, everything's fine," was that a slight crack in your voice? no, no, he had to have imagined that. he knew it was wrong but he had waited long enough. he turned the knob, opening the door just a little bit but still not walking in.

"you don't have to tell me everything. just... know that i'll be here, waiting for you." he wasn't the best at comforting, nor was he good at even navigating these sorts of things but at the very least, he wanted you to have the knowledge that you had him. it didn't take long for you to finally get up, opening the door that separated the both of you. you looked so... different. the light absent from your eyes, the edges of your lips normally turned upwards but now they weren't. if he couldn't say what you wanted to hear, maybe you'd understand through his actions.

his arms wrapped around you. squeezing you just a little tighter than usual as he somehow made the both of you waddle backwards into your room. he had kept his gloves in his pants, not wanting to hurt you even more with them. his embrace was a familiar warmth, like the fire during particularly cold nights in the outer ring. you could hear his heart racing, was it from nervousness? anxiety? fear? even he didn't know.

he took this as an opportunity to place soft kisses on the top of your head but then stopped all of a sudden. he turned around to the door and realized that it was still wide open. he kicked it close with his foot, feeling embarrassed at the fact that he had to stop because of something so minor. he wanted you to feel safe, to have privacy, to be able to breathe without others barging in. technically, he had invaded this space of yours but you were slowly melting into him, as if you had been waiting for this too.

every passing second hugging you, kissing you, it made his own worries disappear. he hoped the same for you as you slowly spoke to him about your own problems. as he listened, he'd pause every once in while to give you a deadpan stare. not because he was making fun of you or anything, but it genuinely baffled him how you could say such things about yourself. you felt so insecure about yourself and your image, about being with him, being with the SoC. he had to physically stop himself from just blurting "i love you" every time you said something so degrading.

instead, he chose to wait and listen. his calloused hands gently caressing yours, his lips pressing kisses on the side of your head as you nuzzled into him. he loves you for who you are, the person in front of him, not the image that you had made yourself out to be in your mind. but he waits for you to let it all out before he says anything else. he will wait, he will listen, he will always be there for you.

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timeslipcamp · 3 months ago

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i love reading the wiki and seeing something i've never noticed before

thanks to that, i spent another five hours on wikipedia and not doing my job. so! let's get into the ghouls' stigmas and how they could relate to these demons they made a pact with

probably spoilers through current episode idk

first of all, prior to this rabbit hole i had never heard of the ars goetia. however, going through these lists, i had heard of several of these demons in maaaaany many things from popular media. seems to be a common list to snatch from (any blue exorcist or obey me fans here?)

also, i used the wiki for a lot of this post, and it seems like the wiki is slightly out of date, but still good for the most part. if anyone notices anything wrong, please message me!!

so the ars goetia is, at its simplest, one part of a grimoire that's been translated several times since the 1500s. it has a list of demons and other parts of black magic (technically goetia is the darker counterpart of thurgia, both of them which make up ceremonial magic.) the ars goetia lists off something like 70-something demons and their counterpart angels and their basic roles and powers.

also, each of these demons has a sigil, but weirdly enough, the symbol in the logo of the game and a lot of other things in game are more remniscient of nordic runes and not these symbols. not sure what that means.

so, i'll be going through this list of the ghouls whose stigmas we know so that you don't have to! i'll go in house order to keep it simple. if i miss someone whose stigma we know, shoot me an ask and i'll edit this post.

JIN - "Bianerus"; the ability to control others by his command; anagram of Naberius. in the ars goetia, naberius is the same thing as cerberus i guess lmao. that's fun. gonna keep an eye out for metaphors of jin guarding the gates of hell. usually appears in the form of a crow. when naberius speaks, it's with a hoarse voice, but it makes men amiable in "rhetoric and all arts." basically makes them agreeable and talented. interesting how they translated that to jin's power, and even more interesting that they didn't give the ice king one of the kings listed in the ars goetia. as this list goes on, some of the stigmas are pretty direct translations and others are a little more of a reach, but it's still fun to see where some of the inspiration could have come from.

TOHMA - "Argeas"; the ability to send vibrations across distances; anagram of Agares. that demon rules the east side of hell, and this is super funny, his power is to destroy dignity. sound like a certain petty bitch to anyone else?

LUCAS - "Iggnaim"; the ability to create barriers around himself and others (and also had a crazy creature appear when we touched him); anagram of Ginigam. this guy is a great marquis who apparently will be patient while being summoned and will answer all your questions until you send him back. how polite. he teaches science things and gives an account of any soul who died at sea with sin. funny that they gave him to the guy from "across the pond"

KAITO - we don't know his yet but he sees auras. i'll just start skipping the people we don't know

ALAN - "Yagsal Olbasa"; implied to be insane super strength but we don't know for sure yet i guess; anagram of Glasya-Labolas. crazy name. his names in other translations are even crazier. he's the captain of bloodshed, has to do with the past and "what's to come" and tells people about it, and can incite both love and homicide in people. truly a captain's captain. this is a really fitting one for alan, i think. also, alan's lil animal chibi is a german shepard and this demon is depicted as a dog with wings. the crowd goes "awww"

LEO - "Haxs"; extends his hearing; anagram of Shax. shax is another one with a lot of differently translated names and he's also a great marquis. shax's entire entry made me laugh out loud, he and leo would get along like a house on fire. shax takes the hearing and sight from those the summoner chooses, steals money, knows when lies are told, speaks in a beautiful voice when compelled not to lie....it goes on. basically he steals and lies. perfect, no notes.

SHO - "Spurno"; stated to 'jam things'; anagram of Purson. sho is the first one to have a demon that's considered one of the great kings. he can reveal secrets of the past, present, and future, and is also said to be involved in revealing the antichrist. he can also find hidden objects and treasures! cool, but not quite sure how this would relate to sho's stigma. maybe it'll make more sense when we learn more about sho's abilities. personally i think this might end up relating more to whatever we learn about hyde.

HARU - the bitch that started this whole post - "Bahnti"; the ability to lessen gravity's effect on his body; anagram of Bathin. he's a duke of hell who knows a lot about stones and birds, and more importantly, can "bring men suddenly to another place." he also helps aid in astral projection! it's probably the near teleportation he got his stigma from. super cool correlation on this one

(EDIT ty @unhindged-memes !!) REN - "Raothtas"; literally used it to clean. it cleaned ink. that's cool i guess. maybe the ability to erase/remove? could be cool; anagram of Astaroth. he's apparently a super powerful demon, which honestly works with my theory that ren's abilities are going to be crazy once we actually see them. he also seduces people with laziness!! very ren, love that for him

TAIGA - "Malab"; we actually don't know what his is yet. HOWEVER!!!! this feeds into my taiga knows something theory and also my time loop theory; this is an anagram of Balam. balam is a "great and powerful king of hell" who could give perfect answers on things past, present and to come. PERFECT. ANSWERS. past present and TO COME. he can also make men invisible and he's three headed, but whatever. do you see!! DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING

ROMEO - "Tiris"; the ability to turn things into a bomb; anagram of Sitri. sitri is a prince and depicted as a very beautiful man lmao right on the nose with that one. also less related, but sitri makes men and women fall in love with each other. i think that's probably more where they got the character's name from than his powers.

RITSU - "Acimo"; the ability to harden his body (lol); anagram of Camio. he is a president and a great disputer, and can apparently make creatures understand each other. good go-between guy. also apparently more powerful in december! ritsu's birthday is in january though :/

SUBARU - "Talnandio"; the ability to read residual thoughts from things; anagram of Dantalion. this one is also super on the nose. dantalion was said to be someone who could declare counsel on anyone, aka he could know the thoughts and minds of any man. it's also said that he wears many faces. hmmm actor, anyone? this one almost deserves a whole post, i'll have to come back to this.

LYCA - "Ramsochisa"; the ability to track anything he has smelled before by scent; anagram of Marchosias. i genuinely forgot this was what his stigma was lmao some note taker i am. this guy's depicted as a wolf though, so there we go for the werewolf thing. also, kinda a sad connection, but marchosias believed that after 1500 years, he would be able to return to heaven with the other fallen angels. he's also the one that's most reliably conjured and will always answer true. this feels very lyca, i think this one matches up well.

YURI - "Agnihaet"; hyperactivates his braincells; anagram of Haagenti. surprisingly little information, but apparently he can make men wise by instructing them in every subject. nice. he can also turn water into wine! where's that ability yuri, huh?

ghouls whose stigmas we don't really know yet: kaito (auras), ren (used it to clean??? ok maid outfit card where are you) , haku, zenji, taiga, edward, rui (only technically. we know it can relieve exhaustion and stuff but we don't know his word or demon anagram), and jiro (whose stigma reflects injuries back to the dealer.)

damn that was long. there's a few demons that i think could potentially match up after reading through this list so many times, but it's gonna be hard to know for sure given that some of these don't translate directly to their powers. i'll make another updated post once we know more of their stigmas

and also more about the pacts in general! how did they learn to summon a demon? why were they summoning in the first place? what did they ask for? so many questions, this game drives me insane

ask box and messages are always open!

#tkdb #tokyo debunker #tdb #theories #chimi rambles #goddam this one was a long one but this was fun #as always so many thoughts about haku and taiga and their roles in this story

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peanutbutterandbananasandwichs · 1 month ago

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Jared Lore round 2

So after the success of my first "choose one of my favourite bits of Jared Lore" poll, I've been wanting to do a follow-up for a while since the first was such fun :) So here is round 2. I will add context/links behind a cut below the poll xxx

When Jared and Jensen first met at their audition one of the very first things Jared ever said to Jensen was "how'd you get your eyes so big?" - he was asking because he had slightly squinty eyes and had been having issues with them swelling up on Gilmore Girls and he saw Jensen's big eyes and just had to ask I guess <3 Video

A picture Jared tweeted when he and Gen were running the Austin Marathon, showing their running sweaters with their marathon number bibs - and also in frame on a seat below were syringes, a bottle of pills, and a rabbit vibrator. He quickly deleted and reposted a cropped version lol. Post showing the picture pre-repost

When Jared was around 8 years old he was at Disneyworld with his family - grandad (peepaw) and brother - and he had a tendency to wander off as a kid (and now lol). He wandered off and when he couldn't find his family he just got on the monorail to Epcot and spent the whole day there on his own and then came back to his poor grandad thinking he'd lost him. Video

Glenn Howerton and Rob McElhenney talked about when they played basketball in LA at the same time as Jared being intimidated by him - meanwhile he looked like this:

Post 1, Post 2

5. Technically this is more Gen lore than Jared lore but I wanted it here and it's my poll I make the rules lol. Gen posted a video through TOWWN about ways to save water for the environment - in the style of an old French black and white movie - featuring her and Jared taking a tandem shower to save water with many silly sexual innuendos. 10/10 very silly and delightful. Video

6. Drunk J2 after a con, Jensen randomly tells Jared to slap him in the face, Jared does, so hard that he apparently knocked out half of one of Jensen's teeth. Gifset (also lil fic for the RPF inclined lol)

7. Pretty self explanatory one, he thinks he might have sung the Saved by the Bell themetune, the karaoke bar was called Dimples and he used a fake ID to get in. Gifset

8. The pilot for the MacGyver spinoff "Young MacGyver" that Jared filmed in 2003. Clay MacGyver, Angus MacGyver's nephew, follows in his uncle's footsteps and joins the Phoenix Foundation. Also origin of this gif:

You can watch the whole episode here.

9. A show Stephen Amell tried to pitch and made a pilot of - described on IMDB simply as "A couple of dudes, being dudes - in wine country." Jared was in the pilot. Featuring Jared being a wine nerd in his own wine cellar with for some reason his People's Choice Awards (I think) on the table in front of him. Least attracted to him I've ever been 10/10. Also source of Amelecki on a boat - one of my favourite events.

Trailer here.

10. When Jared first auditioned for Sam Kripkie wasn't 100% sold, and wasn't sure if he was "smart" enough to play Sam. Jared's manager called him and basically told him that Jared was super smart - National Merit Scholar, National Honours Society, Nation Forensics League Winner, missed on question in math on the SATs - score of around 1490 (at the time that would have been 97-99th percentile score). Video

#jared padalecki #jared lore #don't ask how long this took me to put together finding all the source clips/gifs lol

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sparkanonymous · 1 month ago

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Cole & Geo meeting for the first time

Stargazing

Couch nap

Discovering Cole’s rock form

Making each other jewelry (or Bonzle presenting them both with jewelry she made for them)

Also the finders would have been really little right after the merge— so maybe Lostshipping taking care of lil toddler Spitz and Fritz

Thank you for the requests! :]

This one is a long one. I wanted to do all of the requests and didn't want to make separate posts for each one, so here's all of them in one post!

Cole and Geo meeting for the first time.

I'm actually writing and posting a fic on AO3 and FFN about them. I've only posted 2 chapters, and I'm slowly working on the third one, but I have a concept of them meeting, even if it's sloppy. This is technically how they meet, but they don't introduce themselves until halfway through the second chapter... I think, where Cole wakes up being held hostage in the kitchen.

Basically, while looking for his friends after being thrown into a foreign land, Cole sees the Hoarder and goes that way in case his friends are being attacked. He sees someone around that area, attacks the Hoarder, and is quickly knocked out by garbage falling onto him, which causes a split in his head. Geo was the person he had seen, and he quickly took the ninja back to the Rookery to take care of his injuries, even if he didn't quite know how to do all that.

Here's the fic if anyone's curious.

●●●

Cole and Geo taking care of the boys.

I headcanon that Fritz and Spitz are 4-5 years old by the time Cole joins the Finders. When the boys were found by Geo, they were around 2-3, so they've been with him for a couple of years. I don't have any set backgrounds for them, but they're banished to the Land of Lost Things at the same time and find each other before Geo does. I believe Spitz is the more excitable of the two, more silly, while Fritz is more shy, more careful. Fritz was able to speak more clearly when Geo and him meet and is able to introduce himself. Spitz copied his name, not able to remember his own before he found himself here.

(I'm actually really happy with how Spitz came out here. I don't know how to draw animals, nevermind snakes, so him looking kind of cute here is a relief.)

●●●

Making jewelry with Bonzle.

I think I messed this request up, purely because you had asked for them to be making each other jewelry. But I think that this is nice either way. I'll fix it up a bit more before lining.

(Bonzle came out a lot better than I was expecting, being that I don't draw skeletons very often at all. And she actually looks like Bonzle and not Sans lol)

●●●

Discovering Cole's rock form.

Okay, this one is more... complicated, I think. In my head, they found Cole's rock form by a sudden wave of emotion, being Geo's heat of the moment kiss. Before this, Cole hadn't been able to control the earth very much at all, barely able to feel the power in his gut. He's only able to feel the pain of the earth. But when Geo kisses him and accidentally uses his own element during this, he's suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of the earth. (This also leads to the misunderstanding in canon, where Geo feels as if he's only wanted because of the misconstrued theory Cole runs with.)

●●●

Couch cuddle.

●●●

Stargazing.

This one happens after they're able to get to Ninjago, and there's some semblance of peace. Geo hasn't seen the stars in so long, barely even remembers them, so he gets very excited when he sees them and starts pointing out the few constellations he can remember. Cole's too distracted, looking at the brightest star of them all. At this point, Cole's gotten Geo some new clothes, they're just very similar to his old ones because Geo had really liked his look.

I hope you liked all of these! They will all be lined at a later date!

Kofi

#ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #lostshipping #geodeshipping #ninjago cole #ninjago geo #ninjago fritz #ninjago spitz #ninjago bonzle #cole brookstone #geo finder #fritz finder #spitz finder #bonzle finder #spark wips

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libraryofgage · 2 years ago

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@holyangelstudentuniverse requested the following: Steve working at Bath & Body Works while Eddie is the mall pianist?

I love it omfg, your brain is fantastic I hope I did the idea justice

(if you see any typos no you didn't <3)

The old food court pianist was...okay. Technically, she was good; she knew how to play and rarely made mistakes. She was also clearly just there for the bi-weekly check (not that Steve can blame her), and her playing reflected that. The piano became the ideal white noise, loud enough to lessen the awkwardness of any silence but not so amazing that people couldn't ignore it in favor of conversing with each other.

The new food court pianist? He's a fucking enigma.

He's very clearly skilled, and he seems to actually enjoy the job. He plays like Billy Joel and Elton John met one night, had a piano contest, and then had a baby to create the perfect pianist. He's great and energetic and can play anything from Mozart to fucking Cardi B, and Steve wishes he'd quit already so he can actually focus on his own shitty mall job instead of getting absorbed in the guy's playing.

"You should just hook up with him," Robin says one day, hip-checking Steve as she passes by with a box of Cherry Blossom products. She restocks the soap bottles first, then the perfume, then the lotions, and finally the tiny hand sanitizers with their shitty little plastic flip-caps that Steve swears break for the fucking fun of it.

Steve, meanwhile, is replacing last week's sales signs with new ones. They're the exact same. They rarely change, actually. The only difference is the "expiration" date at the bottom, which changes if only to continually sell customers that sense of urgency that results in them buying $50 worth of products they'll forget about until the holidays come around and they need white elephant gifts.

He's almost done, too. All that's left are the signs by the metal gate pulled down over the store's entrance. They'll open it in about an hour to prepare for the mall's opening, but for now, it's staying down to discourage the mini-bodega clerk in the middle of the hall from flirting with Robin and trying to sell her shitty perfume like she can't just steal shitty perfume from Bed Bath and Beyond at the end of the day.

He waits until after he's switched the sign to turn around, arms crossed over his chest. His back is to the gate, and Steve would normally be too fucking paranoid about a blind spot to withstand it, but he's in argument mode.

"I barely know the guy," he says.

Robin snorts as she crouches, stocking extra hand sanitizers in the tiny drawers at the bottom of the shelf. "Yeah, but I know you, dingus," she says, her voice light and bouncing. "You hear the guy's muzak version of a Lil Nas X song and you're ready to marry the guy."

"I can just recognize artistic ability! Have you ever tried to make a pop song sound like a classic?" he asks.

"My point," Robin says, pushing some hair out of her face, "is that you should ask him out. Maybe you two can play piano together."

If she hadn't already heard it before, Steve would be immediately launching into an explanation of why that wouldn't work. Steve has never met someone he liked or trusted enough to actually play with them. Sure, he's tried playing with a partner before if only to say he gave it a shot, but it sucks. Especially when you don't like the person. You're squished together on an uncomfortable bench, sharing sheet music, elbows bumping as you both try to reach the proper keys to keep the song from sounding horrendous. It's Steve's personal version of hell on earth.

But Robin has heard that rant before, so Steve graciously spares her from hearing it again. For now. Until he's drunk, probably.

"What, I'm just gonna waltz up to the piano and ask if he's free on Saturday? Or, I don't know, try some dumb pick-up line like asking if he comes here often?"

"I'll be honest, it's not the worst pick-up line I've heard."

Steve and Robin jump, both whipping their head to look at the grate to see the food court pianist grinning at them (well, more specifically, he's grinning at Steve) from the other side. He's wearing a button-down black shirt with ripped skinny jeans, old Converse, and more accessories than Steve can count. There are chains on his jeans and a guitar pick hanging from his neck and an ear cuff and a stud through the edge of his eyebrow and so many chunky rings that Steve could use as an excuse to stare at his hands for an hour.

Robin is the one who breaks out of the shock first. She jumps to her feet and walks over to Steve, resting her arm on his shoulder and leaning against him. "But would it work?" she asks.

The guy grins wider, obviously looking Steve up and down to check him out before looking at Robin. "From Stevie here? Yeah. He's really rocking the apron," Eddie replies, winking at Steve.

Steve is about to ask how the guy knows his name, but then he remembers the name badge on his apron. He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away to glance down at Robin.

She seems to be having the time of her life right now.

"Well, uh, I'd prefer to know your name before trying any pickup lines," he says.

"Eddie Munson at your service," Eddie says, bowing to Steve with a dramatic flourish that he finds more endearing than anything else.

One look at Robin and her scrunched nose tells him she thinks it's a little over-the-top and, dare he say, cringe. Her opinion doesn't actually matter, though, since she'd be down bad for any girl that curtseyed at her.

Steve looks back at Eddie, noting the now expectant gleam in his eyes. He can't help an amused smile as he says, "Well then, Eddie," Steve says, stressing his name a little just for the fun of it, "come here often?"

Robin groans next to him. "Fucking hell, Steve," she mutters, slapping him upside the head. "I know you suck at flirting but you really couldn't come up with something better?"

"No, no," Eddie tells her, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm into it."

"And I'm out of it," Robin says, raising her hands in surrender before scurrying back to her Cherry Blossom products.

She's definitely still listening, though.

Steve rolls his eyes are her reaction and focuses back on Eddie. "So, uh, are you free on Saturday?" he asks.

"Completely free," Eddie says, taking a step closer to the gate and shoving his hands into his pockets. "How about lunch?"

"Yeah, I know a great pizza place."

"It's a date then," Eddie replies, winking at Steve. "By the way, any song requests?"

Steve blinks and thinks for a minute before asking, "Do you know Vienna?"

Eddie's grin tells Steve that he does, in fact, know Vienna. "Vienna it is." With that, he winks at Steve once more before heading back to the food court.

"That was painful," Robin says once he's far away enough.

Steve rolls his eyes and flips her off. "You're just jealous I've got a date and you're still too chicken shit to approach the Nike girl."

Robin practically squawks at him. "Oh, fuck you," she says.

"I'll leave that to Eddie, thanks," Steve says, laughing when Robin gags.

#steddie #steddie fic #platonic stobin #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #lovingly gonna call this one the BBB Mall AU #steddie request #my writing #thanks for the idea btw i fucking love it hfjkds

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starheirxero · 1 month ago

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Theories and/or scenarios for killcode? Im hungry for it 👀

HAJAHAJSHISHWJD IM!!!! SO GLAD YOU ASKED bc honestly I had a period of time where I put a lottt of thought into KC for the purpose of blending him into my fix-it au!!! I'm gunna treat these asks as one bc tbh I'm just bad at distinguishing the two BSJABDJD

Ahem ahem. adjusts tie. I'm gunna start off with lil one-off headcanons and then I'm gunna delve into deeper thoughts and analysis.

I think the reason KC talks with such a deep, slow drawl is due to the fact that he was never meant to be a person + he specifically formed through being pushed down over and over. Due to the fact he was never meant to speak or think or exist, his vocal processing is slower and harder to force out compared to others who were actually programmed with it.

I've never drawn KC like this bc I've never properly put it to paper, but I think KC's early lava theming was everything. I love to imagine early KC with a red-orange-yellow-black color scheme, but as he changes, he quite literally "cools down", his color palette turning into an obsidian purple-grey-black scheme instead.

Tbhhh I used to be an it/its KC truther but I realized he's probably not the type to own the "I'm an object, a force of nature" vibe. I moved my it/its tsams truthing to Solar Flare <3

Okay I'm gunna go theory/analysis mode so I'm gunna put the rest under a cut bc I know it's gunna get long LOL

Ahem. Ahem. I have broken down how the kill code manifests in all the characters who have it and what that means for them.

I'm, of course, going to focus on KC! However, it's important going forward to note the 3 major ways I've noted the kill code manifests: through the need for death, the need for injury, and the need for disorder. There is more nuance, but that's how I've mostly boiled it down! Then, beyond that, these urges can either be tamed, quelled, or ignored.

KC is an example of the need for disorder, but not death or injury! He's said before that he doesn't desire the bloodshed, merely "the thrill." (Sources here and here) This also applies to why he treats people like pawns rather than people! He manipulates them to get the thrill of control, of being intimidating enough to make people listen rather than fight back.

However, notably, KC is also an example of someone with ignorable code urges. So ignorable, in fact, that he just... stops. He literally just decides to stop being evil! Not even Moon could do that, who is the only other person with ignorable urges. Moon could ignore them, yes, but it took monumental amounts of effort and he was very prone to caving if something went slightly wrong.

(I'm... not including Eclipse in this because he is a thorn in my side the moment he comes into the picture with the kill code. He's dubious as fuck and if I touch on that, this post won't be about KC anymore 😭)

This detail has always deeply fascinated me because... why? Why is it that those derived from him can be so powerless to the code, while he himself was able to walk away so easily? Now admittedly I never actually came up with a fully-baked reason when I first came up with all this, however! These are my impromptu theories from least to most plausible:

Because so many people stemmed from him, it sort of "chipped away" at certain parts of the code that left him as a technically incomplete version of the code. [Iffy bc isn't part of the kill code that it would "regrow" when taken apart?]

Because he is the kill code, rather than someone living with it. It could potentially be that being the direct source has a different effect than having it woven into you. [Maybe, but then it'd beg the question of why "direct source" vs "added-in" makes such a difference. Could potentially explain why Eclipse is also not as violent bc he's also directly the code split off?]

Because his ass didn't change!!! That this was another facet of his manipulation craving!!! We never saw him after his redemption so do we really know if he wasn't doing kind things with the intend to get more praise, more power, more respect? His intent matters still, just because he was feeding the poor doesn't mean he wasn't smug that so many humans were dependent on him. [This is honestly what I lean for, I just didn't know how to put it into words until now LMAO]

When I used to subscribe to more dadcode headcanons, I used to wonder of he'd endure shitty humans whispering behind his back about how scary he looks, how it's suspicious, but they wouldn't actually know anything. He'd just feel scared because they're skirting too close to the truth.

Now though? I think he'd find that to be the perfect opportunity to lean into their fear, to do something right then and there that'll make them shriek and flinch back. Like. I genuinely don't know why he'd be able to just, flip on a dime! I think he worked a soup kitchen to have people to control and be respected. I think he made friends so he could have a disposal of people to do what he wants. I think he'd get a thrill out of all the humans around him being intimidated by his presence—his red eyes, his claws, his toothy smile.

That idea is also a very big basis of KC in my previously mentioned fix-it au!! Because when he reunites with Bloodmoon, it's not a sweet father-son moment. KC, subconsciously, still views Bloodmoon as the perfect and most loyal tool! So, he immediately falls back into promises of comfort and glory through telling them "stop eating. look at me, i've ignored my code this long and been fine, no? your hunger will go away eventually. the pain will go away. stop eating."

I just. augrhegrhegr. I honestly adore KC's potential he's so fascinating to me. what's wrong with him!!!!!!

#asks #anon #THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON I OWE YOU MY LIFE.#these types of questions are my favorite bc i find them so easy to answer and bc i'm autistic and love to ramble LMAO #i swearrrr i have more KC headcanons but none that i rememberrrrr..... oh well :P #i hope this was entertaining to u tho HSJSHDJD i. never talk abt KC just cuz he's not a top 5 blorbo to me #but like. i have thought about him so much. he's so interesting 2 me 🙏#sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #sams #tsams killcode #sams killcode #killcode #xero thoughts and rambles

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wolvwa · 1 year ago

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Satusugu x gn!reader

Notes; technically my first one-shot. I can never write endings smh still new to tumblr like a lil baby

pure fluff. I love them sm I am sick.

"I love you two."

Those were the four most beautiful words the two of them have heard. Nothing between the you three was official—even though Shoko practically sighed and gagged anytime the three of you engaged in conversation amongst yourselves.

But neither of them could get it out of their head.

From the day you all met, none of you really could keep another out of your head.

You were quiet and nonchalant. You got along well with Suguru.

You seemed boring to Satoru.

And Satoru wouldn't allow that. He poked and prodded at every little button, but all he got was a lazy glance.

It was his mission to annoy you.

The beginning of that day, Satoru calls out your name, but you don't reply. He frowns, poking at your cheek. "Helloooo?? Is your head nothin' but clouds?" He whines.

"Man child..." Shoko mumbles under her breath as she lights a cigarette.

"Hey! Technically, I am still a child!"

"..I don't think that's helping your case..." Suguru says after a moment, though he can't help but smile.

"I'm tired." You sighed, leaning back to lay on the gym floor. "You're always tired." Satoru huffed as he picked up a ball and lightly bounced it on your forehead. "Yeah....but I'm really tired right now." You sighed again.

Satoru pouts at your lack of reaction while Suguru just shakes his head.

You're sighing and dragging your feet all day. Leaning on Suguru with a frown, too tired to engage in even a normal conversation with Satoru or Suguru.

"Come onnnnn," Satoru groans, "you've been moping all day! What's up!?"

"The day isn't over yet." You protest with a pout.

"Quit that."

"Quit what?"

"Doin' your face like that."

You narrow your eyes at him and turn to the other side of the bed. While Satoru complains and bombards you with questions about your behavior, Suguru watches quietly, a small frown tugging at his own lips.

It wasn't that you smiled often or had much energy, but you definitely didn't frown often either. You were notoriously lazy even in battle.

"Are you smilinggg? I saw that~" Satoru's teasing words bring Suguru down from his thoughts as he glances back at the two of you.

You let out small huffs and grunts as Satoru tried to pry into your blanket cacoon. He giggled as you shoved at his ivory hair, trying to push him out. Your lips twitched upward no matter how hard you attempted to hide it. Suguru felt a small smile ease itself upon his face. He hadn't realized how much your distress had became his and how much better he felt seeing the two of you back to normal. As normal as you two get, anyway.

Your laughter was the true sign that Satoru had won—as usual—Successfully dragging you out and tickling you in an iron grip.

"That's enough now. You two have missed the intro of the movie already." Suguru reluctantly said after a moment of watching the two of you squirm and giggle.

"Ehh, the beginning is always super boring anyway." Satoru waved off before pointing his thumb to you, looking back at Suguru as he straddled your waist. "Plus, this one's sqeaky little laughs are more fu— oof!-" Satoru winced, falling back dramatically as you smack him with a pillow.

"Drama queen..." You scoffed, sitting up as you recovered from your merciless tickle ambush.

"This is abuse, ya' know!?" Satoru exclaims with an acusing finger. "I have my witness," he adds, looking over to Suguru, who just closes his eyes. "I've seen nothing, sir." He said, shaking his head. Your lips twitched upward again, seeing Satoru's jaw drop.

Your heart thumped against your ribcage, and the unknown insects in your stomach seemed clearer. It was unusual to feel so much heat flush to your cheeks and to be smiling so wide.

"I love you two."

It slips out like vomit. It's quiet but loud enough for the both of them to hear. You dont realize they heard you or that you even said it at first until their gaze is on you.

"...you mean it?" Satoru asks quietly. You can't tell if he's serious or teasing.

You stare at them with your usual blank look, eyes a bit wider and your cheeks hot. You tilt your head to the side and avert your gaze to the floor.

They both take your reaction as an answer.

"Oh, damnit. I wanted to say it first." Satoru groans and crossing his arms. "I love you two way more, dummy." Satoru says casually.

The both of you are caught off guard with how bold he is, but let's be honest, this is Satoru Gojo we're talking about.

You're no emotional person, but your poor heart is beating out of your chest.

Suguru seemed a bit too shy to talk aswell and the three of you continued on with the movie as normal— Satoru talking half the damn time while you pinched his cheeks to shut him up, Satoru stifling a giggle as you fall asleep on him mid movie—taking out his phone for blackmail, and after the movie Suguru ended up on one end of Satoru while you were curled up to other side of him.

#—wolfawrites #wolfa.txt #@wolfa #jjk #jjk x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #satosugu #satosugu x reader #x you #fluff #jjk fluff #gn reader #gender nuetral reader

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mimikittysblog · 2 years ago

Text

Soon to Be

Pairing: Husband! Jay x Fem! Reader

Genre: Angst, a lil bit of smut, fluff at the end

Synopsis: You and Jay are in the process of getting a divorce, however on this fateful night you found yourself under him once again. Is your soon to be divorce still gonna happen? Or will this moment change things for the better or the worse?

Warnings: Sex, mentions of arguments and divorce, i think thats it? If I miss anything let me know!

Word count: 1,9k words

A/N: OKAY I actually have so many other works I have yet to finish but I’m just gonna squeeze in this one. I got inspired to make this morning cause of a TikTok lol. I hope y’all like it! There’s not much dialogue in the beginning so I’m sorry if it’s boring but I do hope you guys will still like it! Okay then, enjoy!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

"J-jay.."

"Fuck."

"Aaah! Jay!" You moaned out as your soon to be ex husband thrusted harder.

Yup.

Soon to be ex husband.

You and Jay have been married for almost ten years, yet unfortunately times got rough. Big arguments over little things started becoming common, he became busy with work and almost never had any time for you and the kids etc. Pretty cliche but it happened.

It all accumulated into the biggest fight you two ever had and it ended with the two of you agreeing to get a divorce.

Not long after the process began and he even moved out already. It's been a pretty long process and you're not entirely sure why.. it even started to make you wonder if this was even worth it. Cause truth be told. You still loved your husband with all your heart. Then knowing that soon your signatures will be on divorce papers and your kids are always wondering what's gonna happen now is eating away at your heart.

What you didn't know is that it was eating away at his too.

Yet how did you end up here? yknow. under him again.

Well it was your son's birthday actually. So of course you all got together to celebrate it. However as Jay was about to leave to go back to his new place it started to rain heavily. Almost a hurricane really.

Or maybe you guys were just trying to find an excuse to have him stay the night.

So you suggested that to him. Furthermore not wanting to be cruel to the father of your kids and the love of your life you let him sleep in the same bed with you.

"Huh.. you haven't really changed anything did you?" He commented with a small longing smile when he walked into his.. old room.

Fuck did that hurt to think about.

To think about how he doesn't come home here anymore.

How this technically isn't his home anymore.

How now whenever he walks through the door he calls home he's no longer greeted by his kids and the love of his life.

"..I thought it was perfect the way it was.. so I didn't see the need to change it." You replied while looking down, leaning against the door.

Jay gulped before looking back at you and making his way towards you.

"..I thought it was perfect too.." He whispered when he was right in front of you.

..Was this still about the room?

You took a big gulp before looking up at your soon to be ex husband.

He looked at you like how he used to. Like you were the only thing in this universe.. like he loves you.

He does.

Yet you were too stubborn to acknowledge it. Trying so hard to convince yourself that he no longer had you in his heart. The divorce is about to happen.

But why is he looking at me like that? Like he still wants me? Like he still loves me?

He does.

and why aren't I looking away?

Because I still love him too.

Not being able to contain it anymore you both grabbed onto each other and shared a passionate lustful kiss.

And thats how you ended up here.

"Ugh. I-I've missed you!" Jay groaned as he was starting to near his climax, also trying to keep it down, not wanting to wake the kids.

"J-jay..! We.. ah! we really.. s-shouldn't be doing this..!" You croaked.

"But.. why does it feel so good??" He whispered, nuzzling his head into your neck.

"M-maybe its just cause you h-haven't found someone else to get your dick wet."

He stopped.

That's when you realized that you let that slip.

You didn't mean to say that..

He then pulled away to look at you, eyes wide but eyebrows furrowed. Truly appalled at what you just said to him.

"I.. Do... do you really think that..? Y/n. I.. would never. do that to you. Y/n. I'm still your legally wedded husband. and.. even if I wasn't already I would never find someone else to- y/n no one is like y- I just.." Jay couldn't even speak. Not believing that you would ever think this.

"...if.. if you really think all that I'm doing is just trying to use you for my personal sexual needs then we can stop." He explained sternly looking into your eyes.

..No.. You didn't think that.

He was making love to you. You knew. You felt it. You don't do this with someone you don't love.

But.. but you were soon to be divorced. It was soon to be over. He can't still be in love with you?

Can he..?

So in confusion and stubbornness you slowly put your hands on his chest pushing him away softly.

"We.. we should stop."

Jay said nothing as he looked down before slowly pulled out of you. He continued to keep the silence as he put your nightgown back on you and dressed himself. He then got in bed next to you and turned away.

"Goodnight Y/n.."

"...Goodnight Jay.. I.." You stopped yourself as tears slid down your face.

Not knowing Jay had stopped himself too.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

The next morning Jay woke up before you did. He smiled seeing you next to him and wanted so bad to just hold you in his arms and never let go.

But he had to leave soon, and he doesn't know if you wanted that too. So he got up and made his way to the kitchen and seeing he had some time he decided to make breakfast for his family like he used to. Before work, pride and other stupid shit that doesn't really matter got in the way.

Once he was finished he still had some time so he decided to prepare his kids uniform like how he did back then. Seeing how his kids sleeping peacefully as he prepared their uniforms just break his heart even more.

God he missed this so much.

Even when he still lived here he hadn't done this in so long. Plus he realized their uniforms have gone a size up, his little ones were starting to grow and he's been missing it. He hates this. Once their uniforms were prepared, he gave his kids each a kiss on their heads and a little note to motivate them through out the day.

He didn't have anymore time. He had to leave. But he didn't care anymore. He made his way back to your room and sees you still sleeping so peacefully. However as he got closer he saw the tear stains on the pillow and the tear tracks down your beautiful cheeks.

He fucked up. Big time.

So with that he kissed his wife forehead lovingly, also left her a personal little note as he left to make things right.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

It was now the afternoon and its almost time to pick up the kids from school.

You were really grateful Jay did what he did before he left. It really warmed your heart even though it brought tears to your eyes. Your kids seem to really appreciate it too, showing you the cute note their father left them.

You were just about to open the door and leave to pick them up but jumped back when you saw Jay at the door with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand and some documents in the other.

"Jay..? w-what are you doing here?"

"...To make things right."

"Jay? what?"

"I'm sorry.. for everything. Absolutely fucking everything. From the moment I started ignoring my duties as your husband and the father to our precious kids until now. Y/n.. I want to start over. Can we start over please? I miss you so much and I.. I still love you."

"You..? b-but jay were soon to be d-"

"I know. I know. But please stop with that.. just for a moment while I lay out my heart for you."

You took a deep breath then you nodded letting him continue.

"After what happened last night.. I couldn't believe how far I let this happened. I.. let you believed that I didn't love you anymore. That you were nothing more than someone I could use. And that I could ever find someone else other than you for anything. Y/n.. I fucked up. Everything. and honestly I don't even think I deserve to ask for a redo.. cause after last night I'm not sure I deserve you.. and after what I did to our family I don't know if you deserve someone as shitty as me..." Jay couldn't keep it any longer as his tears started to flow, causing yours to flow too.

"But I know.. that no one on this earth can love you as much as me. Because I love you.. I love you so so much. My love for you has always been real.. every time I told you that I love you has been nothing but the truth. And I know I haven't been proving that to you.. for fuck sake we were in the process of getting a divorce.. and I let this all happen to the point that this finally showed up in my email.." he continued through choked sobs

He then showed you the documents he was holding, which were the divorce papers. The papers that only needed your signatures to finalize everything.

"And I will forever be sorry for that. I.. I don't even remember who suggested it.. I don't know why I even agreed to it because I'm so madly fucking in love with you and I cannot just let us go. I need you.. I love you.. and I'm hoping you still love me too.. Even though I don't deserve you anymore.. or maybe I never did.. I'm still hoping you can let me fix everything and that we can have a do over..." He said looking at you with hopeful eyes as he offered the bouquet to you..

It looked exactly the same as the one he gave you when he confessed..

and the one when he gave you when you went on your first date.

and when he proposed.

He always remembered how much you loved this bouquet.

"But.. but if you truly... want this divorce.. then we can go inside to sign these.. I won't force you to accept me again... I just needed you to know that you will always.. always. have my heart. No matter what. No matter when. Until the day I die and even after. Even after time itself ends. My heart will forever be yours."

Hearing him tell you that just made you break out into sobs as well as you envelope him in a big hug.

"..Y-you remember your vow..." You sobbed into his shoulder.

Flashing back to the moment he told you this on your wedding day as a part of his vows.

"How could I ever forget..?"

You pulled away and held his face, staring into his eyes.

"Are you sure you want to try again..?"

"As sure as the day I asked you to be mine. as the day I asked you to marry me. and especially as sure as the day I said I do."

With that you took the papers and flung it across the room as you kissed your no longer soon to be ex husband.

"I love you so much Hubby." you mumbled against his lips.

"I love you too wifey. Now lets go pick up the kids and get some dinner."

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

#enhypen #jay park #park jongseong #enhypen jay #enhypen imagine #jay imagine #enhypen smut #jay smut #enhypen fluff #jay fluff #enhypen angst #jay angst #mimikittysblog

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floatingnebulas · 3 days ago

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Cassandra Cain/Cissie King-Jones: an examination of how FASCINATING their ship is and how well they would go together. - Part 1/2

I've been thinking a lot about Cassettes (Cass/Cissie) lately, mainly because I'm trying to plan out a bodyguard!Cass AU for them (I'll make another post on that later) and they're so overlooked. Guys. They have so much potential and are so overlooked. They're such good foils for each other, and I truly believe they could be a MONUMENTAL ship. Generational. Life-changing. So I'm going to put my thoughts into words because I want to and I need to word-vomit about these two.

All of the details are under the cut, but here's the long story short. They're basically like, perfect foils of each other. Both were raised in abusive environments that pushed them to reach unattainable standard for the express purpose of becoming either a superhero (Cissie) or an assassin (Cass). Both of them escaped those environments (Cissie was removed by CPS, Cass ran away). Pretty similar backstories there.

But, it's everything that comes after that makes them interesting. They have very different reactions to being a hero and wearing the cowl (Cissie ends up quitting the hero life and vows to never return because she's happier elsewhere, while Cass views the cowl as the best thing for her and a way for her to be a good person and help people). They have reflecting views on murder (Cissie expressly quit the hero life because she almost killed someone and didn't believe she had the necessary control anymore while Cass killed a man at 8 years old and lets the guilt of that kill drive her in her lasting quest to atone that eventually leads to her becoming a hero to do good).

They even have mirroring screwed up relationships with their parents! Cissie blames her mom for a lot and hated her for a while, but still loves her and they eventually came to an understanding after Bonnie went to therapy, and are now trying. Cass, meanwhile, clearly still loves David Cain as her father despite the things he put her through, but also hates him at the same time for that pain (go read Batgirl 2000, their relationship is so complex and fascinating). Meanwhile she also has a complex relationship with Shiva, her mother, who loves her but was never there when she was a child and still hurts her sometimes (now go read Batgirl 2024 where that relationship is discussed!)

So yeah, the two are basically really good foils of each other and that dynamic would be FASCINATING in a relationship (I like a romantic one but I'd be ECSTATIC with a friendship between them too). It gets even better when you consider they're both public figures (Cissie is a Olympic gold medalist and did canonically play a minor character in an episode of Wendy the Werewolf Stalker, while Cass is the only adopted daughter of Bruce Wayne.)

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CONSIDER THESE TWO OMG

Anyway, more details under the cut if you want the full rant with receipts!

First, if you don't know the full details on who these two are:

Cissie King-Jones is the former child hero Arrowette, raised by her mother to be a hero and forced into the role of hero. She eventually became a member of Young Justice, alongside Tim Drake, Kon-El, Cassandra Sandsmark, Bart Allen, and Greta Hayes, watched over by Red Tornado (Anita Fite, Lil' Lobo/Slobo, Ray, and Snapper Car all joined after she quit the team but she did get to know them pretty well). She quit the hero life after almost killing someone because she didn't trust herself and couldn't do it anymore, then went on to become an Olympic gold medalist as a teenager, and briefly played a minor role in an episode of a really popular TV show while continuing to hang out with/help out Young Justice when they really needed it (in a support role, not as a hero). Technically, she was briefly brought back into the field in the Young Justice 2019-2021 run (to help rescue Kon from the government), and again in Absolute Power (when Amanda Waller put a bomb in her brain and forced her to join the Arrowfam), but I didn't like either of those instances so we're going to ignore them.

Cassandra Cain is the current Batgirl, first appearing during the No Man's Land arc and being mentored by Barbara Gordon, the first Batgirl. Cass was raised by her father David Cain, one of the best assassins in the world, and completely isolated from any form of language other than body language. Due to this, body language became her native tongue and she became one of the best fighters in the world. David forced her to kill someone for the first time at 8, after which she ran away and travelled around until she eventually arrived in Gotham and became Batgirl. She starred in the to-date longest running Batgirl solo book, Batgirl 2000, regularly works with the Birds of Prey (led by Barbara Gordon) and has become a regular fixture in the Gotham vigilantes crime scene.

Okay, now actually on to what makes them so interesting. I'm going to talk about three main things: their backstory, their perspectives on murder and the hero mantle, and their relationships with their parents. I'm also going to stick to canon, rather than fanon or headcanons, although I do think there's some very interesting potential for expansion with them especially since there basically isn't a canon statement of what Cissie's doing with her life now. (Personally, I really like the headcanon that Cissie is now a Hollywood star and think that would just add even more cool layers with the addition of both of them being big media celebrities, but that's just a headcanon even though I'd sell my soul for DC to make it canon.

1. Their Backstories

So I've already covered a bit of this, but we'll go a bit more into detail now about how similar their backstories are and how that could give them some common ground to stand on/a lens for which to understand each other.

Cissie, as I already mentioned, was raised and trained by her mom to become a superhero. Her mother, Bonnie King-Jones, was a Green Arrow fangirl and Olympic bronze medalist who tried to help out Green Arrow and Speedy (don't question the timelines) as the first Arrowette but was expressly told not to by them. Bonnie also got carpal-tunnel syndrome from her job typing, and was forced to put the bow down. She ended up meeting Bernell "Bowstring" Jones and married him, and they had a kid together (then he died from shellfish poisoning). Bonnie then projected onto her daughter and trained Cissie to become the superhero she had always wanted to be, with a non-stop regimen of archery, judo, gymnastics, etc.

(Impulse 1995 #28, the first appearance of Cissie King-Jones)

Bonnie claimed that this was because she wanted to ensure the Cissie made good use of her natural aiming talents, but the narrative makes it pretty clear that it was primarily projection and wanting to live her dream of being a hero through her daughter. It's so bad that in the very first issue Cissie's in, Impulse (1995) #28, Max Mercury calls CPS on Bonnie and has Cissie removed from her custody for child endangerment and abuse. This comes after Bart met Cissie, listened to the explanation she gave, told Max Mercury about it, and had to force Bonnie to tell him where Cissie was being held after she was kidnapped so he could save her. It's also worth pointing out that throughout this entire issue, Cissie is ordered around by her mother, calls her ma'am and seems extremely formal, and is wearing a gaudy costume that imitates the one her mom used to try and wear in her past.

(Impulse 1995 #28)

So yeah, her mom HEAVILY projected onto her and forced her to be a superhero with the name Arrowette that used the bow through an abusive training regimen. Cissie, after being removed from Bonnie's custody in a sealed court case, was placed in a boarding school and given a therapist to help her work through her issues surrounding Arrowette. Yes, she did pick Arrowette back up for a bit and join Young Justice, but I'll be discussing that in the section about their perspectives on the hero mantle.

Now, let's look at Cass' backstory. Cass was raised by her father, David Cain, without language and molded into the perfect fighter. This happened because David was frustrated with his students (including Bruce Wayne btw), never living up to their full potential and being unable to meet his expectations. So he spoke to a linguist about body language, and came to the conclusion that a child raised with no access to language and forced to rely solely on body language, would learn to read people so well that they would be practically unstoppable in a fight. So David manipulated Sandra Woosan (who would later become Lady Shiva) into agreeing to carry his child (by murdering her sister, who he believed was holding Shiva back, then offering to spare her life when she came to kill him as revenge in exchange for giving him a kid) and then raised her in isolation to be the perfect fighter.

(Batgirl 2000 #47, #73)

This training came in the form of a blatantly abusive relationship. Not only did David prevent Cass from learning a proper language instead of just body language, but he also explicitly hurt her over and over. He would surprise attack her to force her to learn her surroundings, randomly shoot her, make her fight highly trained adult assassins, and so much more (I'm not going to pull specific panels for these ones, mainly because most of them are multi-page spreads, but go read Batgirl 2000 and you'll see them. You should also just go read it in general). So yeah, extremely abusive childhood that hurt Cass a lot.

Eventually, when Cass was 8 years old David forced her to kill a man. Cass didn't fully realize what she was doing until after it happened, at which point she was horribly traumatized from the experience of watching someone die and intimately understanding what they were feeling (remember how she's so good at reading body language that she can basically tell what someone's thinking and feeling? Yeah, apply that skill to watching someone die.) Cass ran away from David after that and wandered around until she ended up in Gotham at 17, was trapped there during No Man's Land, and ended up becoming Batgirl. We'll talk about the murder and the Batgirl mantle especially in the next section.

So, the two of them have very similar backstories, where they were raised by abusive parents who pushed them to become the best possible of something (best hero for Cissie, best fighter and killer for Cass). This gives the two of them a unique understanding and perspective of each other. They didn't go through exactly the same thing (Cissie wasn't literally shot and eventually forced to kill people, but Cass also wasn't forced into the spotlight and media frenzy as a kid), but they would still have a good empathy for each other. They would each get it. And that's already so fascinating and compelling for them.

It gets better though.

2. Perspectives on Murder and the Hero Life

This is the part where it starts to get really interesting. So, let's talk about Cissie first. Remember how I mentioned she was removed from Bonnie's custody and placed in a boarding school, but ended up taking the cowl back up? This was because she wanted to get back at her mom, to prove that she was a better Arrowette without her influence.

(Secret Origins: 80 Page-Giant, Shafted)

She became Arrowette again because she knew she was good with a bow, but was forced into the cowl by her mother and, in her anger afterwards, decided she wanted to prove her wrong. The cowl for Cissie started out as something she didn't want, then a way to prove herself as better than her mother. Now, let's be fair to her. Cissie was a fantastic hero and did genuinely want to help people. She saved a lot of lives with Young Justice, and cared about saving people. As much as she wanted to get back at her mom, she also wanted to make people's lives better.

But sometimes, fighting isn't the right way to help people. Cissie realizes, in pretty much the worst way possible, that the actions of heroes have consequences. There's a targeted attack at her school. Her therapist, someone she's come to rely on heavily and view as a sort of mother-figure, is shot multiple times and killed by her ex-boyfriend and one of his friends. Cissie, in her grief, decides to hunt the killer down through the woods at night, shoots him multiple times with her own bow, and nearly kills him. She would have killed him, if it weren't for Kon appearing and grabbing her arrow out of thin air.

(Young Justice 1998 #15)

Kon offers Cissie a choice of whether to kill the man or not, after forcing her to take a moment to think. Cissie just walks away. After this, in the very next issue in fact, Cissie has a breakdown over this. She believes she's lost herself, that she's a supervillain now because heroes don't try to kill people.

(Young Justice 1998 #16)

Cissie, quite clearly, no longer believes in herself. She doesn't have faith in her abilities to be a hero anymore, not after she almost killed someone in raging grief, and would have if Kon hadn't managed to appear at exactly the right moment. She doesn't think she can be a hero anymore. How can someone so dangerous be a hero? (Don't think about other heroes who have killed people). Cissie apparently has very strong feelings on the ethics of a hero killing someone. But these strong feelings then soon get another layer added to them, in the form of responsibilities.

Cissie is dragged out to the mall by Cassie and Kon, and while they're there, they see someone steal from one of the stores. After being goaded by the security guard for not tripping the thief, Cissie leaps into action, flips through the air, slides down an elevator cable, and knocks out the thief with a roundhouse kick. Objectively cool moves. But Cissie then looks around and sees people's reactions to her fight, specifically kids' reactions.

(Young Justice 1998 #16)

Cissie is unsettled by the kids imitating her. She doesn't like it. Not only, she realizes, did she almost kill someone and nearly break her own moral code very easily, but she inspires children to follow in her footsteps. Kids want to be like her, even though she doesn't feel like she can trust herself. She can't live with that.

So Arrowette is hung up. For good, at the start of the very next issue.

(Young Justice 1998 #17)

Cissie King-Jones realizes she crossed a line, and that she could cross it again. She can't trust herself, the one thing an archer, a hero, needs to be able to do above all else. She also realizes that she's inspiring children, little kids who might follow the same screwed up and terrifying path she did. And she can't live with either of those things, the idea that she might be driven to kill again, the fact that kids want to be like her.

So she quits. She's done. And she doesn't come back, despite the rest of the team and Cassie in particular trying VERY HARD to convince her.

Clearly, Cassie feels very strongly about her hero mantle and the idea of murder. For her, the mantle was a way to help people, yes, but it was more-so about getting back at her mother. And when she's someone who has the power to kill someone and inspire children, she can't do that. She can't be put in that position of power. She can't trust herself with it. Her happiness, her peace, lies in putting down the bow and arrow, and becoming just a civilian (something that we see in later issues she is DEFINETLY happy and content with).

Cass, on the other hand, feels very differently about her hero mantle. She didn't become a hero until long after she initially killed someone at 8 years old.

(Batman #567)

This event led to her running away from David Cain and wandering around for years, until she arrives in Gotham City. There, she works as one of Barbara's runners during the No Man's Land arc, and her skill is quickly noticed by Batman. Cass becomes Batgirl pretty quickly.

Through her whole tenure as Batgirl, Cass is DETERMINED to save as many people as she can. She doesn't seem to really care about her own identity, about how hurt she gets, or what the risk to herself is as long as she can save people. The life of another person is worth more than her own safety. She's dedicated to the role of hero. And, there's a pretty simple explanation for why she's like this.

Guilt.

Cassandra Cain never got over killing someone at 8 years old. She felt the death. She understood, intimately, by reading the man's body language, exactly what happened when she killed the man. (I can't find the issue where it says this but if anyone else knows it PLEASE TELL ME AND I'LL ADD IT). She's wrecked with guilt and that guilt is what fuels her. If she can save enough people, if she can help everyone she can, then maybe, just maybe, she'll be able to balance the scales. Maybe she can make up for the life she took. Maybe she can atone and become a good person. (Cass will never think it's been enough. She'll never think the scales are balanced. She'll always see herself as a murderer, not a hero.)

(Batgirl 2000 #5)

So for Cass, the mantle of Batgirl is a way to help make up for her past wrong, a way for her to be a good person. She's bad without the cowl, but with it, she can atone. She can save lives to make up for her murdering someone.

For Cissie, the mantle of Arrowette is something that will make her a bad person. If she puts that cowl back on, if she picks up her costume, she will be hurting people. She may not actually kill anyone, but she will be inspiring kids and that's unacceptable.

For Cass, the murder means she needs the cowl.

For Cissie, the attempted murder means she can never put the cowl back on.

It's such a FASCINATING difference between the two, such a different way for them to look at everything they've done and how that affects their role as a hero. They both despise the idea of murdering someone, can't accept doing it, and it manifests so differently in them. It's super interesting and would be the backdrop of a really cool dynamic. Cass, using her murder as fuel to be a better hero, while Cissie uses her attempted murder as a reason to never be a hero again.

I really want to see a conversation between the two of them about this. I think I'd die if DC ever did that (we all know they won't because they're stupid). They would both just, well, understand in a way that most other people wouldn't. They would get it. They'd be there, in a shared trauma and refusal to murder that intertwines intrinsically with their hero identities and their position in life, and they'd be beautiful.

So uh. I just realized there's a limit on how many images you can put in a single post on Tumblr. I need more images. I have so many receipts. I'm splitting this up because I have no other options.

Part 2.

Bodyguard AU I Mentioned

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