#do you ever just know that if you decided to you would die.

[taegimood]

— my girl (c.yj) ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader genre: friends to lovers, non-idol au, smut, fluff rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 6.1k warnings: unprotected sex, pwp (6k but most of it is smut tbh lol), softdom!yeonjun, inexperienced!reader, dry humping, oral + fingering (f receiving), squirting, petnames (baby, princess, doll, good girl, pretty girl), yeonjun refers to himself as daddy, spanking, creampie, multiple orgasms (f receiving), light choking but not (he doesn’t squeeze), one instance of spitting, it’s established that jun is older than reader so OPPA IS USED AS AN HONORIFIC and idc if people hate it lol as a korean speaker i’m tired of westernizing shit

a/n - pls picture temptation era hair yeonjun 😵‍💫 this is inspired by a dream i had.. dreamt every part in his room up until the actual penetration 😮‍💨 cockblocked by my own brain

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yeonjun’s sheets are soft as you sit observing his bedroom, taking note of all the little details that his strong personality shines through, the first time you’ve seen the other side of his door — though how you even got to this point in the first place is still something you’re going over and over in your head as you wait for him to come back.

his soft smile is met with your nervous one as he enters the room with two water bottles in hand, shutting the door quietly behind him — your eyes follow his lithe fingers as he turns the lock — and you watch as he places the drinks on his nightstand before turning to you.

the air suddenly feels much warmer when he sits down on the bed beside you, so close that you’re almost touching, and that fond look on his face only serves to heighten your nerves as you remember that he knows what he’s doing, and you don’t.

well… sort of.

everything happened only a few hours before.

your best friend kai had invited you to hang out with him and his roommates, a chaotic group of guys who you’ve grown to call your friends as well; even yeonjun, who you may or may not have developed the hugest crush on ever from the minute that you’d first met him.

it’d been a few months of back-and-forth, sometimes convinced that it must be mutual and other times doubting your judgement completely — has he always been this flirty, or is it your imagination when his eyes linger just a little too long? — and it was on this fateful day at their apartment when it all fell apart.

(or should you say, all came together).

everyone knows to watch out once beomgyu’s got a couple of drinks in him, so it was only a matter of time before your unlucky day came when he’d decide that you would be his glorious first victim of the afternoon; and that was exactly where you found yourself as he took it upon himself to announce to everyone in the room that you and yeonjun needed to admit you wanna fuck each other already, or else he’d “just have to do something about it himself” (whatever that meant).

to say you wanted to crawl into a ditch and die would be the biggest understatement of the century.

your wide eyes were pinned to the floor as the room erupted into multiple reactions; soobin groaning with a smack upside beomgyu’s head as he scolded the younger not to say stuff like that, taehyun’s “damn,” as he knocked back his beer to cover a laugh, kai burying his head into his hands with a shriek — he swore he didn’t mean to spill your secret to beomgyu a few weeks ago, it just slipped out — and of course, the culprit in the center laughing his ass off unphased.

the only one who had yet to say anything was…

you steeled yourself and glanced up, meeting yeonjun’s eyes that were already watching you from across the living room.

your own widened marginally.

he didn’t look disgusted. he didn’t look put off. in fact, he looked…..

your breath caught. there was a small upturn to his lips, a confirmation, the hint of a smile that solidified as he quirked a brow as if in question. as if he was asking you,

“well? what should we do about it then?”

and everything changed from there.

~

it hadn’t taken long for beomgyu’s quick-moving attention span to be directed elsewhere thanks to some faithful effort on hyuka’s part, the others following suit to spare you from the spotlight — and it was only about an hour later when you found yourself alone in the kitchen for a breather, the sounds of your friend’s quarreling and laughter slightly less eardrum-shattering now from where you stood leaning against the sink.

a few minutes passed before the sound of someone else slipping into the room grabbed your attention.

your peace quickly morphed into apprehension.

“hi,” yeonjun whispered, a small smile on his face that read somewhere between gentle and amused.

his hands were in his pockets as he came to lean casually against the counter opposite you, head tilted slightly to the side as his eyes trailed over your expression, and you cursed your mouth for going dry at the sight of him.

his simple black tank top and sweatpants combo had you fighting to keep your eyes on his face — his face, pretty and framed so nicely by silky black hair that was grown out quite a bit longer than usual these days, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it as your thighs rubbed together subconsciously.

“…hi,” you whispered back.

he breathed out a small laugh.

“i wanted to talk to you, but i didn’t want the others to hear.. figured this was a good opportunity when i saw you get up.”

“r-right..”

why am i so awkward? what the fuck? oh god wait why is he coming closer-

your hands gripped the counter behind you as yeonjun stepped forward. his voice was low, quiet, meant only for you as he stood in front of you with a look on his face that had you melting in more ways than one.

“listen... i know that we’ve never talked about this thing between us. i didn’t wanna scare you off by being too forward, but now that beomgyu ran his mouth about it…”

with a feather-light touch, yeonjun reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“well, i’m not gonna deny what he said, and i’m pretty sure that i’m right when i say.. i think you want me the same way that i want you.”

you felt heat running down your entire body like a zap of electricity.

your fried brain didn’t even have the chance to fully process before you heard beomgyu shout from the living room, “hey, what’s taking so long?!” and the scent of yeonjun’s cologne was like a drug as he leaned in and whispered in your ear,

“if you feel ready to see where this goes.. stay here with me when they go out.”

and just like that he was gone, random assortment of snacks in hand to avoid suspicion as he called back to beomgyu, “i’m coming, just couldn’t decide what to eat!”

and you slumped against the counter with legs like jelly.

~

you received a chorus of groans and boos when you told the guys you were gonna go home instead of joining them elsewhere for dinner and drinks, earning brief suspicion only from taehyun as he eyed you questioningly for a moment — their focus primarily resting on yeonjun’s uncharacteristic opt-out that he’d blamed on a sudden migraine.

you felt ridiculous as you even headed down the elevator with them to the street outside, going out of your way to be believable, rounding the corner towards the subway station until they were well out of sight before heading back up towards the apartment.

you’d’ve been lying if you said that you didn’t consider leaving yourself; your jittery nerves and quick-beating heart nearly convincing you, until you remembered the look in yeonjun’s eyes and the wetness between your legs returned.

yeonjun, choi yeonjun, one of the most popular and charismatic guys that you know — wants you.

and now here you are on his bed.

when you think about it, in your eyes yeonjun is a lot of things that you’re not; the way he just naturally draws people in, the way he carries himself, always making friends so easily; the fact that he’s genuinely cool, somehow good at everything he does and always looks hot doing it; he’s older than you — not by much, but still — and the number one thing on your mind right now:

he’s experienced.

now you’re no virgin, but your measly 1 past boyfriend is nothing in comparison to the fact that yeonjun’s ability to please a woman is a very well-checked box on his long list of skills (if beomgyu is correct about anything he’s blabbed about, at least. which today so far he seems to be).

and now, as he sits here so close to you with that same look on his face as before, that gentle smile and amused little twinkle in his eyes — well, you know right then that you’re a goner.

“hi,” he whispers, just like he did in the kitchen earlier, and you whisper it back with a shy smile.

this is the first time you’ve ever truly been alone with him.

he looks at you for a few moments, and you wonder if this is what amoebas feel like under a microscope until he places his hand on the bed beside you and rests his weight on it, by default leaning in even closer than before.

“i like you.” he says simply.

in panic mode, you resort to sarcasm - “y-yeah-“ you clear your throat - “um, yeah, i think we established that.”

his laugh sends tingles through you as a real smile not stricken with awkwardness finally blooms on your face, the ice slowly melting for you as you start to remember that right, okay, he’s a friend and not some unreachable deity (for the most part, at least).

“i.. like you too,” you respond sheepishly, and you bite your lip at the underlying shift in his tone as he keeps his eyes locked on yours and says,

“i know.”

the mood has suddenly deepened into something else.

his hand comes up to your cheek, thumb ghosting over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “is this okay?” and you don’t know when his face got so close to yours but your eyes are already threatening to flutter shut as you hum in response, lidded gaze glued to his full, pretty lips that you want so desperately all over your body.

“words, baby.” he voice is a whisper, breath warm against your lips, his own so close now that you can almost feel them —

“y-yes.”

and just like that, choi yeonjun is kissing you.

whatever you thought a real kiss was supposed to feel like, whatever kisses you had felt with your ex —

none of it compared to this.

you feel his smile when you quietly moan, his lips even softer than you had imagined, moving against yours slowly, deliberately, expertly, the hand that had been on your cheek sliding gently to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss.

his tongue is warm and soft as it traces along your bottom lip, and you don’t care how eager you probably seem as you let it in immediately, trying not to moan again as he slips it past your lips to caress yours; you melt as he sucks lightly on your tongue before giving a teasing, gentle bite to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

you can’t even imagine how dazed you must look — but his knowing smile tells you enough.

you can’t explain it, but in that moment you gain a hunger-fueled confidence. you want to give yeonjun everything.

fuck, you want him bad.

you’re pulling him back to you faster than you can chicken out otherwise, and the pleased noise he makes as you connect your lips again only spurs you on further to do what you’ve been so badly wanting to:

you touch him, hands sliding from his shoulders up to his soft hair, pulling at it gently as his lips travel down your jaw to suckle at the skin of your neck; you moan, freely this time, eyes sliding shut and head tilting back to give him all the access he wants as you wrap an arm around his shoulders and keep him close.

his hand slides around your waist to your lower back as he slowly guides you down to lay against his sheets, your legs instinctively widening for him as he slots his hips between them, and you groan at the bulge now resting comfortably against your clothed core.

it doesn’t take long before he gently rocks his hips forwards.

you whimper, clutching to his tank top as he continues to kiss and suckle along your neck; your legs tighten around his hips and his lips tilt into a smirk against your skin as your body responds to his like it’s what it was made for, and so he does it again, this time continuing into a steady rocking pace.

the hardness of his cock drags deliciously against your center as he rolls his hips into it again and again, slow enough so that you feel everything, but firm enough that it makes your head spin and your thighs twitch with need.

“oppa,” you whisper, pleadingly, and you don’t even know what you’re asking for but you know that you just need more.

“hm?” he hums back, lips still sucking pretty bruises into your neck,

and it’s like he can read your mind as he asks with another smirk against your skin - “want more, baby?”

you nod quickly with a weak, “mhm,” and your heart jumps as his lips move up to your ear.

“tell oppa what you want.”

the husk of his voice sends shivers straight downwards.

he pulls away just enough for you to meet his eyes and you feel like a rabbit hunted down by a fox, but in your case, you never want to escape from his grasp.

“i.. i-i want…”

you can feel the heat blooming in your cheeks, remembering once again how much you haven’t experienced, and you want to tell him exactly where you want him to put his mouth — but instead your eyes avert from his as you mumble in admission,

“i-i’ve never been… well i’ve never been eaten out before. s-so.. um..”

in your peripheral you can see yeonjun’s brows lift to his hairline in disbelief. “what?”

a finger beneath your chin gently draws your gaze back to his and the genuine bewilderment in his eyes is enough to deepen your blush as he asks, “how could that bastard have possibly survived never tasting you?”

your body buzzes with electricity as your eyes widen; there’s a hunger and determination dancing in yeonjun’s stare that you’ve never been looked at with before.

his intensity makes you shiver in anticipation and it’s like you can taste the honey dripping from his words when he says,

“let me make you feel good, baby. let me give you everything that he should’ve.”

your head spins.

you’ve never felt so desired.

the second that you say okay, yeonjun places one last dizzying kiss to your lips before he’s moving down your body, guiding you out of your shirt as he slowly maps out your skin with his lips — you breathe out a sigh at the way his large hands caress you, intentionality in every touch.

eventually he sits up on his knees, pulling back from a kiss to your navel to reach for the hem of your panties. you shiver when his fingers ghost over your hips.

“lift for me,” he instructs softly, and you do, biting your lip as he begins to slowly pull them down, eyes glued to your cunt, and you watch the way his breath hitches in his throat at the strings of wetness that cling to the fabric.

“fuck,” he whispers, practically groans,

“can’t believe no one’s ever tasted such a pretty pussy before… gonna eat you so good, baby..”

you’re going out of your mind with need, his words alone sending another gush of arousal to your heat, your hungry eyes traveling down to trace the imprint of his rock-hard cock in his sweatpants.

teasingly you ghost your foot over it as he slides your panties from your ankles, and his eyes flicker up to yours as you stare back innocently; his gaze narrows and lips quirk up into a lopsided smirk as his warm hands slide up your legs.

“getting brave, now, are we?” he taunts, stopping at your thighs as he wraps his hands around them and spreads your legs open.

slowly he lowers himself between them, all the while keeping his eyes on yours, and your hips jump at the whisper of his breath against your aching cunt when he says,

“better be careful, doll… any game you try to play, i can play it better.”

and when his fingers spread you open and his lips kiss your clit, you already know that he’s ruined you for any other man.

how could you even dream of anyone else when the tip of yeonjun’s velvety tongue slips out to trace teasingly up and down your slit, or when the pad of his finger circles so lightly around your leaking hole that you might even be imagining it?

no, there’s no way you could be imagining this, not as the warmth of his mouth caresses you as he closes his lips around your clit and gently begins to suck, your head tipping back with a shudder as you whine at the feeling.

“eyes on me, princess,” he murmurs against your cunt, and when you manage to bring your gaze back to his, the sight before you is sinful.

his foxlike eyes dark and dangerous and twinkling as he watches you through his lashes, pretty lips forming a smirk that you can only feel and not see as he whispers “good girl,” - before the next thing you know, his tongue is flattening against you as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy, big hands keeping your jerking hips in place as he begins to ravish you, sucking, licking, kissing, groaning shamelessly at the taste of you and sending vibrations straight through your quivering core as you unravel beneath his touch.

“so fucking good,” he moans, sliding a finger inside of you with ease as he begins to pump it steadily in and out, practically making out with your pussy as you whimper, hands instinctively flying to his hair — you almost pull them away when suddenly he adds another digit, the stretch causing your fingers to tighten in his dark strands as your hips instinctively grind forwards against his mouth.

you’re about to apologize when yeonjun moans even deeper than before.

“that’s it, baby,” he grunts, “use my face. want it so bad, don’t you? go ahead and chase it, cum all over daddy’s tongue.”

something unholy snaps inside of you at that.

“f-fuck-” you cry, doing exactly as he said; you can’t help it as you grind your clit down on his warm tongue over and over and over, hands tightening in his hair as his fingers work impossibly faster, and a new sensation takes over you as the dam breaks and you reach your peak;

you don’t realize what’s happening at first as you’re carried through the most mind-blowing orgasm, until you feel the unusual amount of wetness soaking his sheets and hear yeonjun groaning “fuck, fuck, that’s it, baby, that’s it -“ and he’s three fingers deep as you realize you’re squirting.

it’s as though he can read your body like a book the way he can tell when it’s suddenly too much, his pace slowing gradually until he gently slides his fingers from your sopping hole, placing a final feather-light kiss to your clit before his lips and hands move to soothe your quivering thighs.

“you did so good, baby, holy shit..” the bottom half of his face is soaked in your juices as he mouths along your skin, hands massaging and caressing whatever his lips aren’t kissing;

you’re still bewildered, and can feel the raging blush on your cheeks as you’re quick to blurt in embarrassment, “i-i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to-“

“y/n.” yeonjun looks up. “seriously, that was so fucking hot, you have no idea.”

you can see in his eyes that he’s telling the truth.

“r-really?”

he laughs, finally sitting up; “baby, i- fuck, like, you actually have no fucking idea how sexy you are.” he pushes his hair out of his face and it’s only then that you realize how heavy he’s breathing, the bulge straining against his pants somehow a million times more prominent than it was earlier.

“y/n, i’m so turned on right now that i can hardly think straight. please-“

you meet his eyes again quickly,

“please, i need to be inside you.”

apparently today is the day that you learn just how crazy choi yeonjun makes you, because despite your still-twitching thighs and your pussy so sensitive that you’re sure a slight breeze would send it into overdrive, your body is quick to betray you at his toe-curling words when your walls clench from the emptiness and a fresh wave of arousal gushes from your soaked heat.

“if you don’t fuck me right now i’m gonna go clinically insane.”

his brows lift only for a moment before he’s laughing, swooping down to catch your lips in a kiss. “well we can’t have that, now, can we?”

he gets off the bed, your eyes hungrily tracking his every move as he peels the tank top from his torso and casts it to the ground; “fuck,” you whisper as your gaze trails down the defined ridges of his abs; “fuck,” you groan when he hooks his thumbs around the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls them down with his boxers in one go.

his cock is long and slender and flushed pink, the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen as you imagine the weight of it in your mouth.

if it were anyone else, you’d wanna slap the shit-eating grin right off of his face, but this is yeonjun, and the fact that he knows he’s all that only makes him 10x hotter.

you can’t tear your eyes away from his length as you sit up on your elbows to watch, and he enjoys it, pumping himself in his hand and smearing the pre-cum around his tip with a satisfied hum.

but as he reaches for the condoms in his desk drawer, you surprise both him and yourself when you stop him.

“no.”

he pauses, looking over his shoulder at you with quirked brows —

“want you to fuck me raw.”

his mouth goes dry. you can see the fire dancing in his eyes as he slowly straightens, keeping himself under control as he asks carefully,

“are you sure?”

you bite your lip and quickly nod. “wanna feel you,” you breathe, and that does it for yeonjun as he’s back on top of you in an instant, his lips pressing to yours in a searing kiss as you moan around his swirling tongue.

his hand is on your throat, not squeezing, just resting there as if to say you’re mine, and you whine deep in your chest when you feel the tip of his cock sliding through your slippery folds.

“gonna fuck this pretty pussy so full of my cum that it’ll be dripping out of it for days,” he rasps as he taps the head of his cock repeatedly over your clit, the lewd noise met with your whimpers as you grasp at his bicep.

“please,” you whine, “want it, please-!”

his hand slides from your neck down to squeeze your tit as he sits up and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder with his free hand.

“so good for me,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded and lusting as he looks down at you, dragging his shaft back and forth along your slick pussy; “such a good girl, begging for daddy.”

and when he finally pushes the head of his cock past your entrance, stretching you open as he sinks inside, stars explode behind your eyes and you nearly cum again right there on the spot.

“fuuck..” he groans in a drawn-out moan, eyes sliding shut and head tipping back as your walls suck him in, mouth falling open before he catches his plush bottom lip between his teeth and looks back down at you through hazy eyes, giving another rough squeeze to your tit in his grasp.

he slides his hand down to press against your lower belly as he bottoms out, your hips twitching as you gasp, and with his other hand he grips your leg that’s slung over his shoulder as he begins to grind his hips against yours.

you can’t breathe, can’t speak, overwhelmed by how fucking good it all feels, the head of his cock massaging places inside of you that you didn’t even know existed as he rolls his hips over and over, whispering fucked-out nothings;

how tight you are, how good you feel, how he’s gonna make you forget your own name by tomorrow.

and when he starts really moving, hips separating from yours only to connect again with a lewd slap of skin on skin each time he delivers a slow, firm thrust to your cunt, holding you in place so you don’t jolt up the bed — well, you never knew that something so delicious existed, and now that you’ve had a taste, you’re already rendered insatiable.

you paw at any part of him that you can reach, hands finding purchase on his thighs as his pace picks up into a steady rhythm, your lips moaning and pleading and begging around words that you can hardly get out of your mouth.

“look at you,” yeonjun coos breathlessly, “so drunk on my cock already.. perfect pussy made just for me, hm? taking daddy so well? good baby.”

he looks as blissed out as you feel, face wracked in pleasure as he picks up the pace, his hand so large where it still presses over your lower belly that his thumb is able to reach your clit, and the added stimulation along with the pressure of his palm sends your head lolling as you twitch and tremble underneath him.

“j-jjunie..!” you whimper, and you can’t help the nickname from slipping between your lips; you’ve never called him so intimately before, never said his name so freely, but your accidental drop of honorifics seems to stir something inside of him as he groans and fucks you harder;

“say that again,” he grunts as you gasp out from the sudden increase in pace.

“jjunie,” you keen immediately, gripping the sheets, gripping his arms, gripping anything as a muttered curse leaves his lips and his thumb circles faster around your aching clit.

“love it when you say my name, fuck,” he groans, hips slamming into yours and jolting you like a ragdoll as you cry out for him, the knot in your stomach tightening so fast that you swear it’s about to snap, and when he leans forward with your leg still gripped over his shoulder and his cock pounding into you at a far deeper angle than before, fireworks fill your vision as you cum around him harder than you’ve ever came in your life.

“yes, yes, yes, fuck, that’s it, cream on my cock, baby, fuck you’re so- s-so tight, fuck- just like that, let go for me, baby, good girl-“

yeonjun’s voice sounds far away as you spasm around him, his thrusts growing sloppier as your cunt clenches him so tight that it nearly forces him out; he lowers your leg back down to the bed and slows down a little to let you catch your breath but he doesn’t stop, and your watery whimpers are like music to his ears as you clutch onto him desperately.

“t-too much, too much-!” you hiccup, tears spilling from your eyes at all the overwhelming sensations, but you don’t actually want him to stop and he knows it too — he coos at you, hand sliding up to rest on your throat again as he leans down and licks a stripe up your neck to your ear.

“you can give me one more, baby, can’t you?”

a shiver rolls down your spine at the devilish smile in his voice, sweet like honey as he catches your earlobe between his teeth.

“one more so daddy can stuff you nice and full.”

your pussy clenches. “w-want your cum,” you whimper dumbly in response, too fucked out to think of anything else, and yeonjun smiles as he leans back and runs his hands down your body until they reach your hips and squeeze.

“i know,” his thrusts are still steady as he watches you with twinkling eyes; “and i’m gonna give it to you.”

your eyes widen in protest as he suddenly slides out of you without a warning, but the words die in your throat and are replaced with a squeak of surprise when he flips you over onto your stomach instead.

“ass up for me, pretty girl.”

you obey immediately with what strength you have left in your shaky limbs, a quiet whine escaping your throat over not being able to see or touch him anymore.

his little laugh from behind you indicates that he caught it.

“don’t worry, baby,” he soothes as his hands massage over your ass, “we have all the time in the world.”

your heart doesn’t even have time to skip a beat at the promise of his words when suddenly his tongue is on your pussy, your knees nearly buckling at the heat of his mouth as he licks from your clit up to your fluttering hole, and you gasp as he spits on it before his cock enters you fully in one single thrust.

you cry out, knees buckling for real this time as he holds you up, sheets crumpled in your fists as his hips immediately pick up into a quick, dizzying pace.

“love the way you fall apart around me,” he murmurs from behind you, squeezing your ass, “love how you take me so well…”

you want to touch him so badly, want to see the pleasure pooling in his eyes; you don’t have time to respond before he lands a smack on your ass, your surprised squeak spurring him on as he does it again, drilling into your cute little hole like it was made just for him as he breathes out a moan.

from this angle he can see the way your pussy swallows him so hungrily, and his grip on your hips tightens as he drags you back and forth on his cock.

“love.. l-love your.. love this so much… w-wanna be yours…”

he almost misses your dazed mumbling over the loud sound of his hips slapping lewdly against your ass, but he makes out what you said, heart swelling in his chest and cock simultaneously twitching inside of you as he leans forward, his palm sliding up along your spine to brush the hair from your fucked-out face as he pushes your body down against the sheets, chest pressed to your back now and breath caressing your ear as he continues rocking his hips even deeper.

“you’re mine, baby, you’re mine..” he whispers between kisses along your jaw, a reassurance, your soft whimper of a response causing him to bite back a smile as he continues,

“i’ve wanted you for so long.. can’t believe i finally get to have you.” his hand slips beneath you to toy with your throbbing clit, and your ass grinds back against him as a result as you moan wantonly into his sheets.

“i’ve been yours since the.. fuck.. since the second i s-saw you..fuck, p-please don’t stop..!”

your hips are moving with his now as he works your clit faster, mustering your strength and pushing your weight back as you desperately try to fuck yourself on his cock, on his fingers, chasing the rising wave in your belly that’s threatening to break as he meets your quickening movements with his own.

“touch yourself for me, baby,” he murmurs in your ear before removing his hand and propping himself up on his forearms, allowing for a more concentrated angle as he ruts into you, your choked moan muffled by the sheets as you immediately slide one hand down to rub rapidly at your clit, your other one weakly moving to tangle your fingers with his the best that you can;

“gonna cum, gonna cum,” you whimper, drool pooling at your lips, the scent of yeonjun’s cologne and the weight of his body on yours like pure intoxication as he fucks you harder, breaths heavy and staggering in your ear as he grunts,

“cum for me, baby, need to feel it, cum all over my fucking cock-“

and when your third orgasm washes over you, you’re too weak to do anything but let it, body going limp as it wracks over you in pure bliss, the warm feeling of your clenching walls finally sending yeonjun over the edge this time as he shoots his cum into you with a loud and drawn-out moan, voice breaking as he spews filthy words and incoherent curses; he presses his hips impossibly deep against yours before stuttering into sloppy thrusts to fuck himself through the rest of his orgasm as your fluttering pussy milks his cock of every last drop.

the room grows silent save for your heavy breaths, both of your chests heaving as his forehead slumps down to rest against your back; you didn’t realize how tightly you were holding onto his hand until you carefully untangle your fingers from his.

he hisses from the sensitivity as he slides his twitching length out of you.

you look at yeonjun as he rolls off of your back and flops exhaustedly onto his side next to you, and when he meets your eyes, there’s only a passing moment of silence before you both giggle.

his smile is fond and blooming with affection as he rubs a hand up and down your back, moving to smoothe the hair from your face and gently brushing his knuckles across your cheek before resting his hand on top of yours.

“hi,” he whispers.

you giggle again.

“hi,” you whisper back.

“so.. would this be a good time to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

your heart skips a beat and you bite back a smile. “i was worried you’d just want to stick to the sex..” you admit.

yeonjun shakes his head, lips forming into an endearing pout as he laces his fingers with yours.

“nah, you’re stuck with me now, princess,” he grins. “i meant what i said… i’ve been wanting you for so long.”

an indescribable feeling flutters in your chest as you giddily turn your head to bury your face in the sheets, yeonjun laughing as he shuffles closer, rolling you over onto your back despite your giggle-ridden, poorly-executed attempts to fight him off.

you grin up at him and he grins down at you, hovering over you now with a hand on your cheek as his endeared eyes trail over each of your features as if to memorize them.

“my girl,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you tilt your head up to meet his lips when he leans in and kisses you softly, your hands playing with the long hair at the nape of his neck.

“i meant what i said too,” you murmur against him.

“mine since the second you saw me, huh?” yeonjun’s cocky grin is light and teasing as you scrunch your nose at him, flicking his forehead and sending him into another pout.

“yeah, yeah. whatever, pretty boy.”

instead of responding he buries his face in your neck in a flurry of kisses as you squeal in surprise, laughing as you wiggle around underneath him;“stop, that tickles!”

“gotta make up for all the lost time when i didn’t make a move,” he reasons as his kisses move to your cheeks, your nose, your lips — you’ve never seen this side of yeonjun before, so soft and gentle and sweet; the fact that it seems reserved only for you sends butterflies fluttering through your tummy.

you spend your evening like that, wrapped in each other’s arms as you talk about your relationship, talk about the feelings that led you here, talk about this and that and everything in-between;

“does this count as our first date?” you ask quizzically. he wrinkles his nose.

“no way, i’m gonna do the most romantic shit ever for that.”

you snort. “isn’t that what this is?”

but you don’t have the chance to tease him any further when the beeping sound of his apartment passcode being entered causes you both to freeze.

you were so caught up that neither of you considered the time; nor the fact that yeonjun does indeed have 4 other roommates who would in fact be coming home at some point or another.

that some point apparently being now as the rowdy chatter of your friends erupts into the foyer until you suddenly hear soobin’s tipsy mumble. “what the… what are y/n’s shoes doing here?”

you and yeonjun turn to look at each other as your friends’ voices fall silent.

the seconds pass and you almost wonder if you’re in the clear…

but of course, no peace lasts forever with beomgyu in the house.

“OH MY GOD,” he screams.

“THEY FUCKED!”

[gojoonsaturn]

pairing: Sukuna x fem reader

wc: 4132

a/n: after Shinjuku Sukuna didn’t die and made a peace with jujutsu world, also Gojo is alive. You could choose in which form you want to see Sukuna. english is not my first language, so i'm sorry about mistakes :(

warnings: pregnancy, slight mention of sex, I guess I made OOC Sukuna, you decide)) childbirth, angst, fluff, little jealousy Sukuna

On the evening’s dinner, Sukuna noticed your pale face and bags under your eyes. With a forced smile, you set a plate before him, bowing low to him. The King of Curses grabbed your elbow, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny. You stared at Sukuna, who regarded you with an intent gaze. 

“My Lord!”

Uraume materialized from out of nowhere, literally saving you from Ryomen’s attention. They gestured towards the exit from the dining hall, and you bowed again to your master, leaving the room.

“What’s wrong with the girl?” He asked annoyingly.

“Food poisoning, I guess.” Uraume replied with a chuckle and tried not to show their concern in front of the King.

“I want you to take care of her. She looks terrible.” Sukuna sat down to dinner.

You were alone in your room when a knock came on the door. Heart racing, you opened it and allowed Uraume enter.

“I said you had food poisoning, but you must understand that you can’t hide it from Lord Sukuna.” They remained as stoic as ever, yet you detected concern in their eyes.

“I know, but… You are aware of his stance on children. In fact, I have heard he ate children in the Heian era…”

“That’s true. It’s a mystery how he could get you pregnant. I thought curses could not procreate. Perhaps there is something special about you…”

“I think he wouldn’t believe me that I didn’t sleep with anyone else besides him...”

“But you are his concubine. No one would dare to lay a hand on you.”

You gently stroked your belly, remembering the day when you found out you were pregnant. Two months ago, afraid, you went to Uraume to share the news. At first, they were confused, but there was something inside them, that wanted to help. They gave you permission to rest more and take time off from your duties.

“Rest and sleep well. Lord Sukuna wants you to be healthy.”

“Thank you, Uraume.”

Two days ago, you took an evening bath. As you sank into the water, you closed your eyes, stroking your abdomen and calming yourself. Suddenly, a pair of hands settled on your shoulders. Opening your eyes, you encountered Sukuna's tranquil gaze.

“Are you feeling better now?”

He approached you and seated himself at the edge of the bathtub.

“Y-yes… Much better.” You replied.

“I want you in my chambers today. Will you come?”

“Of course. As you wish, my King.”

You attempted to hide beneath the foam, but he watched you with amusement, noting some change in you, though his sharp red eyes failed to detect it.

In the third month of your pregnancy, you began to wear loose robes. Your abdomen was already visible, and the fabric served as a means of concealing your condition from the King. After that night he preferred to see you oftener in his chambers, but suddenly became gentler during the sex. You feared that he knew about your pregnancy, but Uraume reassured you of his unaware. 

Sukuna couldn’t tell what about you had started to captivate him. Previously, he appreciated your slim figure and pale complexion, but your weight gain suited you well, arousing a sense of desire within him.

One night with the King, you woke up with a sweet craving. You carefully slipped out of Ryomen's embrace and went to the kitchen but found nothing satisfying.

“What do you need?” Sukuna’s voice startled you.

“Uhm… Just some water.”

The King approached a jug of water, poured a glass and gave it to you.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

You accepted the glass of water from his hand and took a small sip, averting your gaze from Sukuna's.

“What?” You inquired softly, forcing a smile.

“What are you hiding from me, girl?”

“Why do you suppose so?”

“Because you’ve changed, and I cannot discern in what way.”

“I believe I have gained a slight weight. If you are displeased…”

“No. I find you more appealing this way.” He interrupted you and came closer, inhaling your scent.

Suddenly he grabbed your arm and placed his hand on your abdomen.

“What the…” He didn’t finish the sentence.

“My Lord!” Uraume called him. In their eyes was a fear for you.

“Who did you sleep with, brat?”

“No one… Just you, my King…” You looked at him confidently.

“The curses cannot procreate, and you know this, Uraume!” His voice began to tremble.

“I do, my Lord. However, I assure you that she has not lain with anyone else. I know that’s hard to believe, but something in her bloodline made it possible. I swear to you, this is your child, my King!”

Sukuna gazed at you in silence, but despite your fear you didn’t look away. Your breathing became steadier and the posture exuded confidence. Suddenly, you noticed a discernible change in the King's gaze. Both you and Uraume exchanged glances, and they nodded to you, gesturing towards exit from the kitchen.

You were unaware of their conversation, but you decided to return to your chambers. Your heart was still racing, preventing you from falling asleep. As your consciousness began to fade, you felt a touch on your waist. Opening your eyes, you turned around and found Sukuna there. He gently rested his chin on your shoulder, with his red eyes closed.

In the fourth month, the other concubines stared at you in disbelief, unable to believe that you had conceived a child with the master. However, you and Sukuna ignored their whispers and often allowed yourself to be seen together. Sukuna stopped visiting other women and spent every night with you. He enjoyed touching your abdomen and leaning against it, listening to the sound of the child's heartbeat. It was a true miracle, and sometimes he found it hardly to believe in his future heir.

“What’s in you, woman?...”  He asked, caressing your belly gently.

“Your child, my Lord.” You replied with a laugh.

“No, I mean… Why you of all concubines?”

“I cannot say for sure. But I believe it’s a blessing.”

“Yeah. He will be the extraordinary.” He said, and you saw the sparkle in his eyes.

“Or she.” You added carefully.

Sukuna’s expression shifted, and you could see the wheels turning in his mind.

“Or she.” Finally, he nodded in agreement, accepting the possibility of having a daughter.

One day, in the fifth month of your pregnancy, you two had a small fight. The King saw you laughing with another servant, and his rage was palpable. Sukuna seized your arm, pulling you away from the man. Then he approached the servant with a murderous glare.

“If you ever talk to her again, I will tear out your throat, do you understand?” Ryomen demanded, his nostrils flared.

“My Lord, your… she just wanted to know what could alleviate her backache…” The man was skilled in medicine, and the other concubines asked him for advice on health matters.

“My King, it’s true. Adrien was a doctor, and I inquired about my pain. Nothing else.”

Sukuna’s gaze softened slightly.

“There is no need for servants to give medical advice. I can offer you the services of a professional doctors.” Sukuna said, his chest rising and falling with each breath, but his eyes held a hint of relief. “Leave us” He released the man

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in pain? Uraume can accompany you to the doctor.”

“Because there is nothing serious about it! Every pregnant woman experiences pain and cramps, Sukuna!” You began to yell at him, but quickly stopped yourself, covering your mouth with your hand. “I’m sorry, my Lord. It’s just…”

“I understand. Your hormones and all that. Uraume has told me.” He replied.

You smiled at him and placed your hand on his cheek. His breathing softened, and the anger in his eyes started to fade.

“Come to my chambers tonight. I will attempt to alleviate your discomfort.” You stared at him in astonishment but nodded and left the hall.

That evening you arrived at Ryomen’s chambers, but didn’t find him there. A dim light emanated from the bathroom door.

“Come here…” You heard from the bathroom.

Opening the door, you saw Sukuna standing by the bathtub. The air was filled with lavender scent which you adored.

“I was told that lavender can help relax your muscles, so… Please, welcome!” His tone was softer and more caring than you had heard before.

He assisted you in removing your robe and guided you into the tub.

“And you?...” You asked playfully, not letting his hand go free.

“I wasn’t planning on it...”

“Please. I want you by my side.” Your voice deepened, and Sukuna couldn’t resist your allure any longer.

He sat behind you, leaning your body against his torso. His fingers began massaging your back, providing relief from the tension you'd felt for weeks. Ryomen kissed your shoulder, moving up to your neck, eliciting a soft moan from you. You turned towards him, taking his chin in your hand and returning his kiss on the lips. Sukuna wasn't accustomed to such open displays of affection, but he couldn't deny the pleasure he felt in that moment.

For about an hour, you two sat like this, until your skin began to prickle with goosebumps from the cooling water.

“Darling, we need to get out. You’ll catch a cold.” Sukuna said.

“Mhm… It’s so nice with you here. Will you stay with me tonight?” You murmured into his ear.

“I will.” He replied.

He lifted you from the tub, helped you dry off with a towel, and carried you to bed.

“Are your back better now?”

“Mhm. Much better.”

You snuggled into his embrace and started to fall asleep. But suddenly you leapt up in bed, looking at the King with amazement and placing your hand on the abdomen.

“What? Is there something wrong with the child? I’ll call Uraume.” Ryomen asked, getting out of bed and heading for the door.

“No, no! Wait!”

You reached him and placed his hand on your belly.

“Do you feel that?”

At first, Sukuna looked at you in confusion, then he felt the child’s kicking in your womb.

“Wow… That’s… incredible.” He said, starting to move his hand over your abdomen following the baby’s movements.

“Would you like to know its gender?” He inquired with amusement.

“W-what? How can you…” You felt your hands and lips trembling. “One part of me wishes to know, but the other…” You bit your lower lip and hesitantly gazed at Sukuna.

“Let it be a surprise for you. But anytime you wish to know, I shall answer, my love.”

You were in the middle of sixth month of your pregnancy when Satoru Gojo arranged a meeting with Sukuna. The King of Curses was not enthusiastic about the meeting but had no choice. The servants set up a table, which you decorated with flowers. Although Sukuna didn’t like to share details of that battle, you heard enough about the famous and strongest jujutsu sorcerer. You were very curious about him.

Near the evening, you heard servants whispering about the arrival of the sorcerer. You glanced at Sukuna and made a move towards the exit.

“Stay with me, please.” Sukuna said suddenly, his voice demanding. His tone was colder, yet in his eyes you saw a hint of vulnerability.

You nodded subtly and took a seat at the table next to Ryomen.

In the dining room, a tall man with snow-white hair and a blindfold entered. He sat before Sukuna, his lips curling into a barely noticeable smile.

“I prefer to see your eyes, sorcerer. Or are you ashamed of your no longer perfectly blue eyes?” Sukuna's voice carried an ironic tone.

Satoru Gojo removed his blindfold, revealing one eye that was black and the other ocean blue. You were uncomfortable and tried to avert your gaze from him.

“There are rumors in the jujutsu world that one of your concubines is carrying your child. Is this true?” Gojo asked.

You looked at Sukuna with a fear in your eyes, and your hand unconsciously moved to your abdomen.

“And so what?” Sukuna appeared confident.

“Do you allow yourself to be fooled?”

“Better shut your mouth or you’ll lose your other eye too. This child is mine.”

“But the curses can’t…” The sorcerer attempted to interrupt Sukuna, but Ryomen cut him off.

“I am the King of Curses.” He said, not wanting to admit there was something special about you.

Gojo continued.

“Anyway. We want to take the child and analyze it. After it’s birth, of course.”

“Are you so foolish to enter my home and speak to me like that?! Have you forgotten the way I brought you to your knees? How you all begged for that damn peace. And yet, here you are at my table with the mother of my child, asking for it to be taken away?” Ryomen was enraged, but Gojo showed no fear. “You will all suffer again, and there will be no more peace. I’ll burn this world if you or any of your stupid sorcerers dare harm my woman or our child.”

“Do you remember the terms of the peace? If you attempt to start the war again, you will die.” You looked at Sukuna, but he didn’t look back.

“I don’t care about myself or jujutsu. This woman and our heir are my priority now.” He took your hand under the table, without looking at you again.

“Well, I warned them! Shall we finally start dinner? I’m starving from my journey from Tokyo. Your estate is far from the capital.”

You and Ryomen exchanged glances. Gojo began to eat, and when he saw that neither of you was eating either, he paused in his chewing.

“Oh! By the way, nice to meet you!” He greeted you with a wave of his hand, which you responded to with a slow nod.

Sukuna gestured to the food and began the meal. He and Gojo engaged in a brief exchange of news about the jujutsu world. Following the events in Shinjuku, all the curses had split into two groups. One group under Sukuna's protection, was spared from exorcism by the sorcerers as they were not considered a threat anymore. The other group, however, refused to accept the peace, believing it was a humiliating condition for their King. These curses became increasingly radical, making themselves targets for the sorcerers because of their violent actions towards humanity.

“Who knows, perhaps your son will be the one to unite them.” Satoru remarked, leaving you and Ryomen staring at him in confusion.

“Actually, I didn’t reveal the child’s gender to her. You as always can’t keep your mouth shut, Gojo.” Sukuna rolled his eyes and stared at you with an apologetic smile. “I apologize, my dear. Maybe I have deprived him of one eye, but the other is still functioning.”

“Oops! I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry, my lady!” Gojo covered his mouth with a hand.

“It’s alright. Never mind.” You smiled at Satoru and glanced down at your abdomen.

After the meal, Sukuna asked the servants to take you to his chambers. He remained with Gojo, his demeanor intense. An hour later he returned to you and reclined beside you on the bed, covering his eyes with a hand.

“Are you well?” You inquired softly.

“Mhm. I am just tired from Gojo's presence. He can be quite irritating. But still…” Sukuna hummed in response.

He shifted to the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes.

“The higher-ups seek to take our child. Gojo came to warn me. While he may not be foolish enough to start another war, he is powerless against them.”

“I see.” You felt a deep sense of dread upon hearing this revelation. However, you did not want to reveal your fear to him. “I understand that you don’t need me to act rashly, so… if you suddenly need my help or at least my support, I’ll be there for you, ready to protect our son with my life...”

Ryomen glanced at you, noticing the determination shining in your gaze. He embraced you and placed a kiss on your forehead.

Sometimes, you and Sukuna spent nights apart from each other. There were no arguments or any other issues. You simply desired some space for yourself and also for your King. It was your seventh month, when you didn’t appear in his chambers for an entire week. He also refrained from pressuring you, but the absence of you and of the sound of child's heartbeat was excruciating. At midnight, he approached your chamber door and softly knocked. You opened and quickly brushed away the tears from your face.

“What happened?” Sukuna stopped your hand and looked at you impatiently.

“Nothing. Everything is fine.” Your voice trembled.

“Don’t lie to me, woman. I thought we trust each other.”

“We do, my Lord! We do!...”

“Then tell me, why you’re upset?”

You invited him into your chambers, and the two of you settled on the bed.

“A week ago, I had a nightmare. There were our son and jujutsu sorcerers. They…” You couldn’t continue, so Sukuna silenced you and wiped away your tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me?...” He asked softly.

“Because it was foolish. You told me you would handle it. And I didn’t want to bother you.”

“How stupid of you. Listen to me. We are together. You are carrying our child. Your problems are my responsibility. You shouldn’t have to struggle alone with these matters. Do you understand?”

You nodded at him and buried yourself in his embrace.

After breakfast on your eighth month, Sukuna led you somewhere with your eyes closed. Besides, you heard Uraume’s voice.

“Everything is ready, my Lord.” They said.

“What is it?” You asked with a soft smile, touching Ryomen’s hands over your eyes.

“You’ll see, my love.” He replied, kissing your shoulder and gently guiding you forward.

You heard a door open, and Sukuna finally removed his hands from your face. You were in a spacious room with midnight-black walls and a rug on the floor. To the left, there was a large crib with a canopy and above it hung a star-shaped mobile. Beneath the crib stood a basket filled with toys. There was also a baby dresser, a small couch and a changing table.

“It’s not perfect, but you can add something from yourself.” Sukuna said, surveying the room.

“No! It’s… amazing.” You said, tears welled up in your eyes as you looked around. “Did you do it all yourself?”

“Uraume assisted me.” He said, gesturing to his subordinate with a grateful nod.

“But it was the King’s idea.” They said with a smile, leaving the room.

Sukuna settled you on the couch and you gazed around in astonishment.

“I also wanted to ask for advice. Yesterday I visited Gojo, and he offered to teach our child when the first signs of his cursed technique appear, under our terms, but under his supervision.”

You took a deep breath and looked at Ryomen.

“And what do you think?” You asked softly, your hand on your abdomen.

“I don’t trust the higher-ups, but I believe Gojo. If he says there is no danger to our son under his protection… I suppose I can trust him.” He just shrugged his shoulders.

“If you agree, I agree too. Together, right?” You said, taking his hand in yours and smiling at him.

Sukuna leaned over and kissed your forehead.

In the ninth month, the entire estate was waiting for the imminent arrival of the King’s child. Sukuna's nerves were on edge, and he followed your every move with heightened attention.

“You don’t need to escort me everywhere, you know?” You teased him one day during a leisurely walk in the garden.

It was a cool sunny day, with the wind playing with your hair, so that you were constantly trying to brush it out of your face. Because of your skinny, your abdomen appeared larger than it actually was, and it felt heavy to you. Sukuna always offered his arm to support you while you walked. As the birth drew nearer, you began spending more time outdoors in the garden. The warm weather and the scent of the flowers that you had planted brought you immense joy. Your son seemed to enjoy these outings as well, for you could feel his kicks against your abdomen as you walked.

“But our child will soon be born, and I do not want you to be alone in that moment.”

“Look, our daddy is worried about us!” You told your abdomen.

“Of course I am worried! Who wouldn’t be?” Sukuna said offended.

Suddenly you bent over with a groan. Ryomen called out to Uraume and they materialized from thin air.

“Just kidding!” You exclaimed, raising your hands in self-defense, your face twisted in a guilty smile.

Sukuna rolled his eyes at you and clicked his tongue at you.

Later that day, the two of you shared a meal, discussing the name of your child.

“I like Katsuo*.” Ryomen suggested.

“And what about Ren*?” You asked with a grin.

Sukuna frowned and thought about the name.

“Nah, it’s too widespread. I suggest we wait until we see the child and then decide.”

You nodded in agreement, and the two of you continued enjoying your dinner. Afterwards, he escorted you to your room, promising to join you soon. You took a bath and were ready for bed, when you felt a sharp pain. Looking down, you saw water pooling around your feet.

“Oh no, no!” You cried out to Uraume with a broken voice.

They appeared immediately, staring at your leaking water in confusion.

“Please, call Sukuna!” You demanded.

“I can’t. The King left the estate and should return by midnight. I’ll fetch the midwives, they shall assist you.”

With Uraume’s departure, you attempted to reach for the bed. The agony subsided, and you began to breathe. As the two midwives entered the room, contractions returned. The women assisted you in a comfortable position, murmuring instructions into your ears. The pain intensified, and you felt warm tears trickling down your cheeks.

“I want Sukuna… Please, bring him here. I can’t do this without him!” You wailed, clutching the sheet in your fists.

Your vision blurred from the tears, and you saw Uraume disappearing again.

You didn’t realize how much time had passed when you felt Sukuna’s hand gently encircle yours.

“Hi, babe. I’m here with you, my love.” His soothing voice resonated.

“My Lord!...” You expressed your joy, but another pang elicited a groan from you.

You didn’t hear what he said to the midwives, but he leaned close to your ear and whispered softly, “I need you to breathe deeply and follow these women's instructions. Everything will be alright.”

You nodded at him and began to breathe in and out, holding his hands. When the next contraction came, you squeezed his hand so tightly that both of you heard snap of Sukuna’s finger.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry…” You looked scared, but Ryomen’s gaze remained calm and cool.

“It’s okay, my love.” He laughed at you and restored his broken finger.

When one of the midwives announced that she could see the head, you felt a brief moment of relief. But then the other woman urged you to push harder, and you threw your head back, your forehead uncomfortably sticky. Sukuna brushed your hair away from your forehead, gently caressing your shoulder and pressing kisses to your damp cheeks.

“It hurts! It hurts so much…” You felt as if every bone in your body were breaking.

“I know… But you are doing great!”

“Mhm…”

Time lost all meaning, but when you heard the child's cry, relief flooded through you. You saw the midwife hand Sukuna your son, and you smiled at both of them. Ryomen laid the child on your chest, settling beside you.

“This is our son. This is your mother.” The King said, presenting the child to you and bestowing a kiss upon your forehead.

“And here is your dad.” You cooed, feeling a hint of trepidation as you touched your child for the first time.

Your gaze fell upon the marks on his face, reminiscent of those on Sukuna’s. However, they vanished the moment you held him in your arms. Your son bore a striking resemblance to Ryomen.

“I guess, his name should be Taro*.” Sukuna suggested.

“Taro?” You questioned, receiving confirmation from him with a nod.

In that moment, everyone in the room sensed the need for privacy, leaving the three of you alone. You smiled at these two essential figures in your life, finally finding peace within yourself. ____________________________________________________

* Katsuo means victory and hero.

* Ren means lotus.

* Taro means great son.

[heybrownieboy]

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: A MURDERER, A DEMON, AND AN ELEMENTAL?

POV: 2nd Person. Y/N.

— Word Count: 2K+

Author’s Note: Finally an update :). In all honesty, I’ve been struggling with getting back into writing lately— after not having time nor mental energy to in so long— but, I’ve also have felt awful going M.I.A for over two months. So, while I was working on this, I decided to break up what I do have and give you all this little update. I wanted to reassure you all that I am NOT giving up on this SMAU. At all. I will be continuing and finishing it. But for now, I hope you enjoy this. I apologize for it being short but, I promise the next chapter is much longer (once I’m able to actually put this one damn scene into words 😭).

“Do you honestly think this is a good idea?” 

You tore your eyes away from your TV—which was currently playing reruns of “Happiness”— and to the spirit siting on the couch next to you.

“What?” you asked. 

“Tonight,” Minho said. “Do you honestly think going to that shrine tonight is a good idea?” 

“Yes,” you said. 

“That caretaker is crazy, Y/N. Like completely batshit crazy."

“So I’ve heard,” you said.

“I mean it,” Minho said, exasperated. “I think he’s the one that actually killed Jisung and I.” 

Your eyes widened. “Wait what?” you asked. 

“I don’t remember a lot from that night,” he said. “Like at all. And I know you said spirits tend to forget more and more things the longer their earth bound.” 

You nodded at that. 

“But I remember some snippets of that night,” Minho said. “And I think he was there. I swear saw him for a spilt second. I was too shocked when I found…” He took a deep breath, an obvious expression of pain and grief crossing his face. “When I found Jisung’s body. So, I wasn’t exactly paying attention to my surroundings. I saw the caretaker run behind me from my peripheral vision. But, before I could react there was a rope wrapping around my throat.” 

“I thought you two were kidnapped?” you asked. 

“I think we were,” he said. “At least in a sense. Do you remember when Jeongin talked about that night he went to the mountain alone?” 

“He said he doesn’t remember the car ride there,” you said quietly. 

“Or half of his hike through the woods,” Minho finished. "Not until he heard Jisung. From what I remember, something similar happened to me.” 

“It was probably the demon controlling you,” you said. “They’re good at that. It’s like a semi-possession.” You rubbed your temples. “So I’m about to go spy on a murderer, a demon, and an elemental?”

“What do you think they’re doing up there?” Minho said.

“Honestly I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know anything. Everything for me with this whole thing has been guesses.” 

“Yet you’re still trying to help,” Minho said. 

“Of course I am,” you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Because it’s dangerous and you could get hurt,” he said. “Or even die.” 

You shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve almost died.” 

“Yeah,” Minho said slowly. “What’s with that huh? How are you alive and have been to hell?” 

You winced. “It was a long time ago,” you said. “And in all honestly I don’t really like talking about it much.”

“I get that,” Minho said. “And I won’t push you to talk about something you don’t want to. Hell was the worst thing I ever experienced in my life. I mean, yeah I guess it’s Hell but, I never expected it to be like…”  He grimaced at the memories.

“Yep,” you agreed, completely understanding of what he meant. 

“I thought it was just going to be super hot.” Minho let out a humorless chuckle. “I wasn’t exactly religious before all this so, I guess I never really read up on it.”

“You could say Dante wasn’t too far off,” you said. “And I do think it’s a little different for everyone.” 

“Yeah. Sometimes Jisung and I would see different things.” 

You squinted at the spirit. “Have you seen any other spirits lately?” 

Minho tilted his head at you. “No actually,” he said. “Now that I think about it. The only one I’ve seen all week is Jisung. Why?” 

“Fucking hell,” you grumbled. You leaned against the back of your couch, head thrown back and eyes staring up at the ceiling. “I’m starting to think that’s what these rituals are for. Because in my twenty years of life, I’ve never gone a day without seeing a least four or five spirits. I’ve only seen three others— besides you and Jisung— in the last week. That’s it. And it been over a week since I’ve seen a demon.” 

“That’s not a good thing?” 

“God, I wish it was. But, no it’s not.” 

“Fuck,” Minho breathed. “So, what should we do? I knew this was complicated and dangerous but this? This seems next level.” 

“I don’t know…” You threw up your hands exasperated. “I feel like that’s all I’ve been saying lately. ‘I don’t know’. It’s so fucking frustrating.” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Minho said softly. “You’re trying. You’re helping us even if you don’t have to. And so far you’ve done an amazing job okay?”

You have him a half hearted smile. “Thank you,” you said.

“Is there maybe any kind of research you can do on this?” he offered. “I mean, there has to be some answers out there somewhere right?” 

“Maybe,” you said. “I only have like an half an hour before Jay and Nico pick me up though. And kind of search isn’t something I have easy access too. Not to mention it’s the supernatural. Nothing is finite. There’s thousands of rituals out there. And thousands more that aren’t recorded.” You nibbled on the inside of your cheek nervously.

“You grew up in a family of Shaman right?” Minho asked. “Can’t you ask like an elder or something for help?” 

You scrunched your nose at that. “I don’t talk to most of them anymore,” you said. “But, I do have someone I could call. My aunt should be able give me some kind of advice.” 

You leaned over to grab your cell phone off the coffee table. It should be around five P.M in London right now. You scrolled to your aunt’s contact and hit call. It only took a few rings for the line to be picked up

“Y/N-ah.” 

The sound of your Aunt Bora’s gentle voice on the other side of the line immediately had you relaxing. The tension that had building up all day seemed to almost completely melt away. 

“Hi,” you said softly. “How are you?” 

“I’m doing great, honey,” your aunt said. “But what about you? It’s almost one A.M in Korea right now. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” 

“I wish I could,” you said. “But I’ve been stressed out lately and couldn’t sleep.” 

“Stressed out about school?” Bora asked. “Because you shouldn’t be. I know studying to get your nursing degree can be challenging but you’re extremely intelligent, Y/N. You’ll make an amazing nurse in the future.” 

You smiled at that. “Thank you,” you said. You let out a soft sigh. “But that’ not the reason I called you. I need advice. On the supernatural.” 

“Oh? What do you mean? What’s happening?” 

“Do you remember those two men that went missing last year?” you asked.

“Yes,” Bora said. “Lily-ah and Natty-ah knew them through friends, correct? What were their names again?” 

“Lee Minho and Han Jisung,” you said. You glanced at Minho for a second. He was the one now leaned back into the couch watching you contently. 

“Didn’t you try to help find them last year?” your aunt asked.

“I did,” you confirmed. “But I couldn’t. I didn’t find a trace of them physically or spiritually.” 

“I’ve always found that strange. It’s almost like…” 

“Someone might have been hiding them.” 

“Exactly,” Bora said. “Did you finally find them?” 

“Kind of,” you said. “It’s more like they found me. Well, technically Jeongin found me.”

“Jeongin?” 

“Their friend. Um, how do I even explain?” 

“Start from the beginning yeah?” Bora said, her voice gentle. “Tell me everything you know.” 

And so you did. You explained how Jeongin originally had come to you or “Eris” for advice because he thought his friend was haunting him. How that turned out to be correct and that Minho was in fact trying to get through to him. You explained how you saw Minho and then had the premonition about Jisung. You explained their spiritual debt and how they were tricked by those three. How they had to escape hell and how half of their soul was stolen from them.

“So,” Bora said slowly, “you’re trying to help them break their spiritual debt and move on?” 

“Yes,” you said, with a slight wavier to your voice.

“But?” 

“But that’s not all. One of the trio he made a contract with was human. A living human. Minho is pretty sure that he’s the one that murdered them.” 

“Y/N,” your aunt said lowly. “You can’t confront a murder.” 

“Oh, I’m not done though.” 

There was a few beats of silence before your aunt asked, “What do you mean?”

“In the past week or so, I’ve seen three spirits and no demons,” you said. “Only one of those spirits talked to me. And all it did was ask for the time.” 

“Asked for the time? Spirits never ask for the time. Unless…” 

“Unless they’re being summoned somewhere,” you said. “I think they’re all being summoned to that mount Minho and Jisung went missing on. By the human.” 

“You think he’s summoning them all there for something bigger,” Bora said. 

“Exactly,” you said. “He’s been preforming rituals for about two weeks. At least that we know of. “

“He’s most likely a Shaman. A very powerful one. Rituals like that? They aren’t easy. At all.” 

“I know,” you said.

“And I’m guessing there’s more,” Bora said with a soft sigh. 

“The other two being they made this contract with are supernatural. One is a demon. But the other one, neither Minho or Jisung knew what it was. They said it was different from the demon.” 

“Don’t tell me…” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s an elemental, yeah.” 

“Y/N,” your aunt said voice now taking on a firm, cold edge. “You need to stay away from elementals. They can and will kill you if you ever get in their way. Forget the murderous shaman. Elementals are not bound to the same rules as demons. Not to mention they hate humans more than demons ever have.” 

“I know,” you said. “I do but…” You took a deep breath. “I cannot not help. There’s something seriously wrong.” 

“It doesn’t matter. This is your lif—“ 

“They have wards to keep away angels,” you said cutting your aunt off. 

“What?” she asked, utter disbelief overtaking her tone.

“Minho said that the mountain is littered in wards keeping angels out,” you said. “Namely Azrael.” 

“That’s impossible.” 

“You would think. At first he thought it was just the hellhounds being kept out. They got too close to the mountain and they were repelled, But he said that Azrael has not been able to get onto the mountain at all either. That the barrier the wards created repelled him as well.” 

The other line went silent. After a few moments you began to worry that the call had disconnected. 

“Hel—“ 

“I don’t like this Y/N,” your aunt said quietly. “At all. I understand Azrael is probably the last angel you want to see since… since all of that happened. But he’s still an angel. He’s still a protector. If you go on that mountain, you have absolutely no protection. Not against the Shaman nor the elemental.”

“I realize that,” you said. “And I completely understand that. But like I said. There’s something seriously wrong happening. I think Minho and Jisung were apart of whatever plan they have going on. Not to mention they’ve been talking about Jeongin. Another human life they most likely want to take. They’ve been planning this for at least a year now, Aunt Bora. Whatever it is, it’s huge. God know how many people will eventually be dragged into this."

Your aunt let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. I know there’s no way to talk you out of this.” Another sigh left her lips. “ Let me think for a few minutes. Maybe I can help.” 

You smiled. “Thank you,” you said. “So much.” 

Your aunt simply hummed. After a few minutes she began speaking again. “How were those to boys killed? Do you know? I might be able to narrow down what ritual they’re trying to get ready up for.” 

“They were strangled,” you said. You peered at Minho for a second, your eyes focusing on the wound around his neck.. “Well, honestly it looks like the rope cut into their throats. They both have these huge infected gashes.” 

“Infected?” Bora asked. 

You copied her hum from a few moments ago. “Yeah.”

“Y/N, if they were dead, how could their wounds be infected?” 

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©️heybrownieboy 2024

[transformersbrainrot]

MegOp is making me crazy as usual, but now I have some new, specific inspiration!

So it started with @that-fanperson-meg saying this under a post I made about the Transformers account posting a TFO MegOp edit.

I recognized the name of the song but had never actually listened to it, and hooooo boy, it activated something in the part of my brain that thinks about MegOp... So, I'm listening to this song, and I have the clearest vision that it's about Megatron's mindset/thoughts during his mental health's lowest point in the worst depths of the war. (fair warning, my analysis/brainrot is based on my own personal continuity/au, so there are some minor references to that, but it's all fairly standard, and I explain it a bit, so just go with it, and you shouldn't be confused.) Ok, preamble over. Time for the lyrical analysis:

I hope that our few remaining friends Give up on trying to save us I hope we come up with a failsafe plot To piss off the dumb few that forgave us I hope the fences we mended Fall down beneath their own weight And I hope we hang on past the last exit I hope it's already too late

Megatron assumes that Optimus is in just as bad of a place as he is. He's wrong, of course, OP certainly isn't enjoying himself, but he has an actual support system that he feels comfortable leaning on. On the other hand, Soundwave is the only thing even approaching a friend for Megatron (and he is waaay too closed off at this point to admit it). Starscream is a backstabbing, power-hungry sycophant with his own heap of baggage (I really gotta make a post about my version of all that sometime); Shockwave is purely logic-driven as usual, only interested in advancing the Cybertronian race via the Decepticon cause. By this time, Megatron feels like both sides are too deep into the war to even consider peace. He honestly can't fathom it.

And I hope the junkyard a few blocks from here Someday burns down And I hope the rising black smoke carries me far away And I never come back to this town again in my life

Megatron has always wanted to escape the path that was decided for him. But now, after losing what he and Orion had and the resulting fallout, he won't go quietly into the night, not before causing some irreparable damage first. And the war will do just that. He hopes the destruction the great war causes keeps pushing him forward, even out beyond Cybertron. At least then, he won't ever need to face the past and who he used to be. He couldn't recognize himself now if he tried, so he doesn't even try.

I hope I lie And tell everyone you were a good wife And I hope you die I hope we both die

Even though it's clear to him that they hate each other and are not good for each other, Megatron still has some form of loyalty to what he and Orion had. If somehow, someday, someone were to ask him about them, he wouldn’t tell them about all their problems, but instead that they were good together. Maybe if this hypothetical future version of Megatron doesn't mention all the pain their split caused, then maybe it was a little less real. He knows that as long as Optimus is around, he won't be able to stop fighting; he's just too hurt and angry. He wishes Optimus would just die, that they both would.

I hope I cut myself shaving tomorrow I hope it bleeds all day long Our friends say it's darkest before the sun rises We're pretty sure they're all wrong I hope it stays dark forever I hope the worst isn't over And I hope you blink before I do And I hope I never get sober

Soundwave, the only even semi-positive influence on him right now, is the one telling Megatron it's darkest before the sun rises. Soundwave is a true believer in the original cause of the Decepticons, probably the last one in High Command; everyone else is either using the cause as a means to take out their pain (Megatron and Starscream) or as a means to an end (Shockwave). Megatron is finding it harder and harder to believe Soundwave with each passing day, and yet again assumes Optimus is doing the same. He's starting to hope it never ends. He's comfortable with it now; the war fills the hole that his old life left in him. All he really knows is that he can't bring himself to yield to Optimus and doesn't think he ever will. If he did, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

And I hope when you think of me years down the line You can't find one good thing to say And I'd hope that if I found the strength to walk out You'd stay the hell out of my way

Megatron is hoping that Optimus is suffering too, since he is, and doesn’t want him to feel anything positive through this since he cannot. But at the same time, he’s trying so hard to be a bastard so that it won’t hurt as much. He does still want to speak well of their past if he gets the chance, so some loyalty or fondness remains deep down. If there were good times to look back on, there would be sadness that those times are over. If Optimus has nothing good to say about him, all he would feel is relief that that part of their lives is over.

I am drowning There is no sign of land You are coming down with me Hand in unlovable hand And I hope you die I hope we both die

Megatron can't see any way out of where he's gotten them. To him, there's no path to peace anymore. The only solace Megatron can find is the hope that Optimus falls with him. Even now, the two of their fates must be interlocked, as if it were a universal constant to him - simple common sense. He just wants it to be over, even as he can't bring himself to stop.

[separatist-apologist]

We Could Call It Even

Summary: Newly made and terrified, Elain Archeron's human fiance tells her of a creature that could turn her back and keep them together and Elain will stop at nothing to make rumor a reality.

There is no force that can undo fate. No magic that can unmake a mating bond. And Lucien Vanserra isn't about to let his mate throw herself in the path of certain death on a fools hope. Lucien will be forced, instead, to watch her love another man for eighty brutal, miserable years.

While Elain Archeron will have to contend with a life she hoped to never live…and a mate she never wanted.

Thank you @shadowisles-writes for the moodboard!!

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

-

Lucien couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

Standing beside her human husband, glowing and lovely in the ruined light of the estate they stood in. She had pointedly ignored him, though the male—Graysen—had looked him over with more curiosity than anything. He supposed the human lord wanted to know what his competition was. 

As if there’d ever been any choice between them. She hadn’t even done him the courtesy of formally rejecting the bond, leaving Lucien with an ache he couldn’t dispel and a yearning he suspected would never go away. Even then, Lucien warred with the urge to rip Graysen to shreds.

He had his arm around her. She was leaning into his body, head on his shoulder and Lucien hated it. She owed him, he thought angrily. Not an acceptance, but at least an explanation. Lucien would have liked to be free, too.

Instead he leaned against the ruined door, arms crossed over his chest as he avoided his mate, his former friend, and his older brother all at the same time. He listened to their pretty speeches about unity and togetherness that would never amount to anything. The humans very obviously distrusted her—he could see they thought she was little more than a traitor. 

Feyre didn’t seem to have a good sense of her own history. Lucien wondered why that was. She cared, certainly, but was divorced from the suffering of her own people and wanted them to get over it as she had. Feyre was an anomaly, an outlier that, from Lucien’s perspective, didn’t even notice how different she was.

Even Nesta Archeron didn’t seem wholly convinced, arms wrapped tightly around her body as though she were trying to shrink in on herself. Across the room, Jurian was trying to catch his eye. Lucien would rather die, he decided. He wanted to wash his hands of all of this.

He didn’t regret the things he’d done, but…all Lucien felt anymore was misery.

He tried to slip out once it was clear there were no more speeches left in anyone. Oh, they mingled and talked, promising to keep in touch but he knew they wouldn’t. The fae were too secretive and the humans too distrustful. The history was simply too bloody between them and even five centuries couldn’t erase the hurt.

After all, the fae had never really paid any reparations. They’d merely walled themselves off and warned humans if they crossed the border, well. Everything was fair game. Lucien didn’t know how he’d do it differently—it was a herculean task better suited to far smarter minds than his own. He simply knew that what they’d tried—which was nothing at all—hadn’t been working and would fix nothing. 

“Wait up,” Feyre murmured, looping her arm through his as she’d done on the battlefield. She’d been trying to convince Elain to speak with him, which had gone poorly. Elain clearly wanted nothing to do with him, despite everything he’d done for her. The ache in Lucien’s chest expanded.

“I’m not going to Velaris, Fey.” That stopped her short. Standing among the rubble, a breeze blowing strands of that burnished blonde hair over her freckled face, Feyre looked sad. Young, too. It was easy to forget just how young she was, but…fuck. She was twenty. Lucien ran a hand through his hair, trying to think what he’d been doing at that age.

Fucking and drinking, mostly. 

“Why not?”

“Why—I can’t,” he confessed, letting her hear some of his grief. “I want to forget all this happened.”

“Where will you go?” she questioned, looking up at him with the roundest pair of blue eyes he’d ever seen. She reminded him so much of that fragile human girl he’d once known. Lucien exhaled a sigh.

“I don’t know.”

“She’s…she’s not going to come back, Lucien. I don’t know if she’s even welcome back, I’m so…” Feyre bit her bottom lip.

“So what?”

“Angry,” she whispered, as if Elain might materialize beside her. “This wasn’t how I wanted things to go, you know. But she…she’s got this idea of what life should be like in her head and she won’t let it go.”

“Good for her,” Lucien said dismissively, not wanting to talk about Elain.

“I need…I know you don’t want anything to do with her and I don’t blame you. I told her to at least explain it to you. To talk to you. I um…I went in her mind. A couple times, actually. She doesn’t have any mental defenses and Graysen is always screaming all his thoughts at me anyway. He’s filled her head with some nonsense about a creature who can make her human again.”

Lucien's blood ran cold. “What?”

“A creature tethered to a lake,” Feyre added pointedly.

“He’s a fool then. They both are, if they make a deal with a death god.”

“She’s going to look for him. Alone.”

Lucien hated that he cared. Hated more that he knew what Feyre was asking of him and that he was going to agree, despite how much more pain it was heaping on his shoulders. Hadn’t he suffered enough? Lucien was certain he’d been sent back to live a life of torment for crimes committed in the past. 

“I’ll do anything, Lucien. Anything,” she whispered, offering him her hand.

“You know that’s a fools bargain, Feyre,” he reminded her, knowing she wouldn’t have said it if she didn’t trust him.

“She’ll get herself killed and I’ll be blamed for it. Nesta will never forgive me and Graysen…he’ll spin it as faerie trickery.”

“How am I supposed to stop her? She seems perfectly capable of making her own choices.”

“You went there. You saw him. Explain to her what he takes and the cost she’d be paying. Restoring her humanity would come at an enormous cost. Elain can be selfish, but she’s not cruel.”

Lucien wasn’t certain he agreed with that.  He took Feyre’s hand, though, because he loved her as much as he’d loved anyone. She gripped tight, yanking him just a little closer.

“I’ll put you up somewhere quiet,” she murmured, holding his gaze. “Anywhere in my territory you want. You don’t have to work with me, just…stay, Lucien.”

“And when you have to pick between myself and your sister?” he asked bitterly. “Humans die quickly. She has a century with him, if that. Likely less given how stupid he seems.”

A smile cracked over her solemn expression. “She didn’t choose me. I heard her thoughts when we went to beg for sanctuary. She held such contempt for me and I…why should I keep begging her to care about me? She’s made her choice. And I am making mine.”

Lucien’s stomach tumbled at the ferocity of her words. “I tried to kill you once.”

Her smile widened. “I was a little shit, as I remember it. You went to war for me. I’ll never forget that.”

He’d gone for Elain, and he suspected Feyre knew as much, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same. Maybe he could reframe it in his mind. Sure, he’d gone on Elain’s vision, wanting to prove himself to her. But he’d saved his friend—perhaps the best friend he’d ever had. “How do I…how do I stop her?”

“She’s going alone. Don’t tell anyone…but I manipulated Graysen’s thoughts to convince himself Elain had to go by herself. That it was part of the legend.”

Lucien sighed, exasperated. “What if I’d said no?”

“You wouldn’t,” she replied with that easy, lopsided grin. “She has to make her way through my territory to get to the harbor. I know the ticket she’s purchased. Just…meet her on the docks and say whatever you have to in order to send her home.”

“And if she gets on the ship anyway?”

“Then I’ll send in Cassian,” Feyre said, her smile fading. “And Elain will know I’ve been in her mind and she’ll be cleverer next time.”

Lucien paused. “How many times have you been in my mind?”

She squirmed. “Twice.”

“On purpose?” he demanded, more annoyed than anything.

“Just once—the first time was a mistake,” she told him hastily. He believed that. 

“And the second time?”

“When you visited my sister the first time,” she all but whispered. It was better than he’d been imagining. Feyre, in her roundabout way, always wanted the best for everyone. And if she could force it to happen, well…even better.

“I’ll do my best,” he agreed, if only because he’d already shaken her hand. He felt the tingle of magic sliding up his elbow, and when their eyes met, she was smiling again.

“We ink our bargains on the skin,” she told him. “Stay with me tonight, at least. You can decide in the morning where you want to go.”

“Maybe I want to live in the mountains,” he challenged.

“I’ll build you a cabin,” she whispered. “Or a palatial estate. Whatever you want—name it, Lucien. Just…don’t leave me.”

“No promises,” he said, heart racing. No one had ever wanted him to stay so badly they’d been willing to beg. To give him whatever he wanted. As Feyre took his hand, lacing her fingers with his, he suspected she would have given him nearly anything he asked for. Jewels, some low-level secrets he’d always wondered. And as they walked back to Rhys, who cocked his head to the side but only smiled as if what he saw pleased him, Lucien wondered if it wasn’t better to just try and make a clean break of things.

“Az and Cass are already halfway back,” Rhys told Feyre, falling into step easily beside them. “Azriel was seconds from pummeling Drakon to the ground.”

“Why?”

“He thinks they’re cowards,” Rhys said, some of his amusement fading. “How did you find them?”

“I read,” Lucien replied with a shrug, not bothering to mention that a lot of it had been blind, stupid luck. Perhaps Rhys knew that, too—after all, he had to have been looking for longer than Lucien had. 

“Well, they’re going back behind their wards.

“Miryam showed me how to get a message through,” Feyre told him, but her expression was troubled. Rhys merely nodded, offering a half smile that didn’t meet his eyes.

“Hopefully we won’t need them again. Jurian has gone back with Vassa…they wanted Lucien to join them in the human lands—”

“No.”

The mere thought made his skin crawl.

“I told them he had more important tasks in Prythian that would better suit their goals.”

“Did you, now?” That irritated him. He hadn’t sworn fealty to Rhys as his High Lord. In fact, the only person Lucien felt any allegiance to was Feyre, who had promised him a life of quiet contemplation. 

“He’s lying,” Feyre whispered theatrically before a rush of cool, jasmine scented air filled his senses. Beneath the metallic edge of the magic lay the familiar scent of Feyre—pear and lilac, whorling together so nicely that for a moment he could pretend they were all back in Spring together and none of this had happened.

Was he selfish for wishing that? 

They landed on the cold streets of Velaris. A fog had settled from the mountainside, causing light snowflakes to settle on the cobblestone. Few people moved about—he’d forgotten Feyre and Rhys, like so many others, had evacuated their people. It would take time to bring them all back. 

Rhys made his way back to their home while Feyre took him to a familiar townhouse. “I thought you’d prefer it here tonight. It’s closer, but it’s also…”

“Yeah,” he agreed, understanding. It was empty. He could be alone with his misery, not forced to put on a show so people wouldn’t pity him. 

“I’ll have clean clothes sent over. If you don’t want to stay, I won’t make you, but…” Feyre bit her bottom lip, crossing her arms over her chest to ward off the cold. “I wouldn’t make you work for me. You could take a break, Lucien. Enjoy your life, for once.”

“A novel thought,” he admitted. “I’ll think about it.”

She nodded, tugging the end of her braid nervously. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Lucien wanted to say more, but the words that often came so easily to him were stuck in his throat. As she turned, Lucien lunged, catching her wrist. “Thank you.”

He hoped those two words conveyed what he wanted to say properly. She seemed to understand—they’d always had that between them, at least. Feyre nodded her head and he released her, letting her vanish into the mist before he went into the warmth. He’d been here before, just as bloodied and exhausted. Velairs had seemed foreign to him at the time, so at odds with the stories he’d always been told. This was the land of living nightmare? Surely not. 

But here, among the well appointed cream furniture and dark wood floors, lay the truth of the Night Court. It was no different than any of the other territories. It simply better guarded its borders by allowing rumors to spread unchecked. He knew, now, that Rhys rather liked that people were too afraid to come marching in. 

It was better than the heavily fortified borders of Autumn, he supposed. 

Lucien snapped his fingers, bringing the fireplace roaring to life. There was new magic in his veins he’d been trying to untangle. Ever since Hybern, Lucien had practically simmered with it. Flame like he’d never seen, bright and hot as the sun itself. It looked a lot like his fathers, like his brothers, but it didn’t feel like it.

He’d been hiding it, terrified if Eris learned, he’d have him killed. Lucien simply didn’t need any more enemies. He didn’t want Autumn, besides, and had to believe the world wouldn’t be so cruel as to force him back to the place that held so much misery for him.

When he and Feyre had trekked through, all he’d been able to think about was Jesminda, after all. What would she make of all this, he wondered? She’d hate Elain, he decided. He’d been trying to decide whether she’d like his mate or find her unworthy. Lucien had his answer at long last. Jesminda had always railed against the people closest to him, frustrated they didn’t treat him better, didn’t love him well.

You deserve so much more, she used to say. He’d believed it once, but now…gods, Lucien didn’t think so. Surely, after centuries of swallowing immeasurable bullshit, things would have started to look up? He’d thought so, for a moment. 

Now, though…

Lucien sighed, trudging upstairs to a room clearly meant for guests. He’d stumbled into Feyre and Rhys’s room and nearly gagged on the scent of them. The room at the far end of the hall—the one that overlooked the river—smelled faintly of lemon and dust. Better than the smell of sex, he decided. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Lucien didn’t bother to turn the lights on which caused him to slam his shin into a chair he hadn’t seen in the gloom. Ripping open the heavy, dark curtains allowed for gray light to filter in. There was a bed large enough to accommodate someone with wings, a dresser, and a bookshelf holding a haphazardly stacked collection of books on war. Cassian must have been here last, he decided.

The bathroom was large—Rhys had that going for him, at least. Lucien peeled off the Illyrian leathers, wincing when it ripped the hair from more sensitive places. How did Cassian and Azriel stand them, he wondered? Lucien would be glad never to wear them again. He hoped to have no cause to ever wear them again, though he figured that was asking too much. There was a death god tethered to a lake and a gaggle of humans trying to enrich themselves at the expense of the world itself.

And his mate, of course, comfortable with potentially damning them all for a human lifespan of happiness. 

Lucien sank into a tub of scalding water, almost embarrassed by the noise that escaped his throat. It was something between relief and a sob. Looking at his forearm, he found proof of the bargain he'd made with Feyre, inked in black and white. Pretty vines wrapped from his wrist to elbow, with delicate, autumn-like leaves hanging gracefully from the stem. He traced the pattern with his finger for a moment before relaxing against the cool, smooth surface of the tub. 

His muscles loosened beneath the water, a reminder that he’d run across that battlefield looking for Elain. He hadn’t known she’d gone back to the human—all he’d heard was that she’d been captured by Hybern and was being held as a prisoner. His fear had overridden his good sense. It had been Azriel who’d gone and rescued her, and Elain who’d turned right back around for the human who couldn’t even keep her safe. 

Lucien closed his eyes, trying desperately to banish the image of Elain from his mind. She’d made her choice and he wasn’t going to beg. Wasn’t going to get on his knees and ask her to give him a chance. All he’d ever had was his dignity, and he’d be damned if he threw all that away, now. She might be his mate, but that didn’t mean he owed her anything. Mate in name only…but Jesminda had been his love. She’d died for that love, defiantly refusing to disavow him even when Beron offered her the opportunity to save her own life. If she’d been alive, would he have wanted Elain?

No.

He almost couldn’t hate Elain for her choice. Lucien hated her for making it and for getting what he hadn’t—the chance to be with Graysen, who had survived the war. It seemed so supremely unfair that Elain got everything he’d been denied.

It was simply easier to hate her. As he laid there in the water, covered up to his chin, Lucien let whatever feeling he might have had for her solidify into something cold and unforgiving. It would take centuries of chipping to break through by the time he was done. He could guard this part of himself so carefully, so closely, that no one would even know it existed. 

Let Elain have her dalliance with the human. He’d die, and she’d have nothing. And Lucien…Lucien had nothing, anyway. How long, he wondered, would Feyre hold her resolve? Would she still choose him over her sister? He knew Feyre—she simply didn’t have it in her to hold a grudge. Not forever. Time had a way of easing things, besides, especially when you were surrounded by love and happiness. Feyre would have children, would settle into her life and she’d miss Elain.

Lucien thought he’d die if he had to see Elain at every solstice party for the rest of his miserably long life. He could beg his father to take him back—and end up on the same side of the blade Jesminda had. Or he could do nothing.

Travel.

Wander.

The idea seemed to warm him a little. Shifting his aching muscles beneath the water, Lucien let himself imagine living on the continent for a time. Maybe a decade before he moved on. There was nothing holding him to Prythian anymore. No one holding him here anymore. He couldn’t even go back to Jes, whose grave was lost to him. Her family had refused to tell him where she was buried and would likely have killed him before they ever let him say his final goodbyes to her. 

Lucien left the bath, drying himself as he solidified his plans. He had more than enough money, collected after centuries of being overpaid by Tamlin, and then overpaid again by Rhys. If he needed more, he could always pick up a job somewhere. Do things he’d always been curious about if he truly wanted to.

It was a nice enough fantasy to put him to bed. Lucien woke to snow falling softly and the smell of cinnamon wafting through the halls. Wrapping a sheet around his waist, he found a little note from Feyre beside a stack of fine clothes that were his style and not the Night Courts. He dressed quickly while reading her note.

You can do hard things—even this. 

Love you,

Feyre

The mug of steaming, cinnamon chocolate, felt more like a bribe than anything. Still, he downed it all the same. Snapping the cloak around his neck, and checking his hair one last time, Lucien braced himself to speak to his mate.

And to tell her goodbye.

[sharkboywrites]

Haayyy >__0 if your rqs are open I'd looove to see another floyd x male reader fic... I would love to see some hurt/comfort stuff around floyd's bpd getting in the way of him finally having a meaningful relationship, n the reader comforting him about it. If you could somehow imply that the reader is trans. and autistic. that would be cool !! but it is opt. ^_^

floyd bpd is a major hc of mine and I hardly see anyone actually pointing it out or writing about it ... that stuff's gotta be done!! he's bpdtastic!! and no one gaf 😭😭😭!!!!!

Tough Times

Bpd Floyd x Trans autistic reader

A/N: Hii! So to be completely honest I don’t really know everything about bpd, although I suspect I may have it but that’s unrelated, but I’ll try my best to write it. Please correct me if I get anything wrong! Also I’ll try to fit in the reader’s own traits but I might have a bit of trouble with it

Trans reader, autistic reader, Floyd had bpd

Floyd was hard to deal with for most people

Most people thought he was too crazy, too quick to change his emotions, and was completely unpredictable and dangerous.

You weren’t most people though.

While Floyd did have his quirks, you still love him, the two of you were practically inseparable. Like seriously, it started to become odd to see one of you without the other.

Although, while you two still loved each other, sometimes it would be hard. Each episode either of you had would cause a problem in your relationship, whether it be your dysphoria or meltdowns, or Floyd’s sudden mood changes and impulsive behavior.

It hurt Floyd more than he’d ever wanted to let you know.

He really hated the way he acted, the way it caused problems between the two of you, the way he would get you into trouble along with him whenever he was impulsive.

Having these feelings just made things worse for him. The more he tried to shove it down, the worse his mood swings would get. One moment he’d be clinging to you like if he’d die if he let you go, and the next he’d be avoiding you like the plague, doing stuff that would get him into trouble.

It worried you. You knew something was wrong with the way he was acting, but you weren’t sure how to address it with him right.

During the next time he was with you, you decided it would be the best time to try and talk to him about it. You sat him down in your dorm room and gently caressed his hand as you told him what you felt was wrong.

His emotions were everywhere. One moments he was upset and crying, the next angry and yelling, mostly at himself, but in the end he was able to tell you what was wrong.

You held him closely, assuring him that even though he had these problems, you were always there for him. You weren’t going to leave him over this, that the two of you could always talk it out, just like the way you did during your own episodes.

For the next few days you made sure to shower him in affection, staying by his side almost all day, giving him treats, and reinforcing how much you love him. Your actions were reassuring to him, and while he still had some complicated feelings, you were helping to make him feel much better.

Sometimes things may be hard between the two of you, you both have your problems, but at the end of the day you both love each other, and both of you will always do your best to not let that get in the way.

[cherrysnax]

it’s been like two weeks and I’m losing so much blood bros

[niuxita21]

😭😭

[astrolotte]

Genuinely intrigued by the potential of Peri and Irep's dynamic but only in a platonic way so I end up not vibing with the fandom's portrayal of it 😔😔😔

(No but listen LISTEN they were kinda-almost-friends when we last saw them in FOP, yeah? Now they're enemies, with both actively fighting each other, and Irep going so far as to try and kill Peri's parents. What happened? When? What influenced it? Did they ever become friends, or did it nosedive the moment the cameras turned off? What about Sammy? How do Irep's parents factor into this? Could it ever be fixed? There's just so much we haven't seen, and romance just feels like too easy a solution to me. Let their friendship be easy to break, fragile. Let them have to work to keep the connection. Fairies and Anti-Fairies are literally made to be opposites, so what happens when two genuinely and truly become friends?)

((and yeah I guess a lot of this could factor into a romantic angle but ALAS the fandom seems to be leaning heavily into the funny toxic yaoi angle 😔 I don't mind it! By all means, please have your very harmless fun! But it ain't my jam :P Perhaps I'll have to write a oneshot myself...))

(((see tags for more rambles i guess. whoops a bitch spoke too much in there as he always does)))

[trans-estinien]

i love being autistic cause sometimes i get a glimpse into how regular people perceive things and its like. what the fuck. what the fuck is that? you live like this? and its normal?? i think YOURE the weird one actually. im fine. thanks though.

[denako]

Hey guys! Life update since i haven't posted anything in some time

College started three days ago and

[gibbearish]

it is fun when u comment on a post on reddit and someones like "ummmm look what sub youre in" like no i know. i just think what you said is dumb enough that i'm willing to get downvoted to tell you that

[guubiiz]

trein...

[yanchive]

Man, I've been obsessed with the isekai trope lately. I've been imagining a scenario where the reader gets isekai'd into a yandere romance story as a side character. You're not the main character or a love interest. You replaced a nameless character who was solely created in the story to be killed off by the yandere love interests to further the plot.

After realizing that's the role you took on, you devise a plan to re write the story to keep yourself alive.

In the official plot, your death was the cause of getting too close to the main character. Your positive relationship with them was considered a threat to the yanderes, and so they wiped you out of the picture.

So, as any semi intelligent individual would do, you decided to avoid the main character completely.

I'd like to imagine the reader wasn't well informed of this story, didn't know who the yans were, and accidentally befriended them before they even got a chance to develop any feelings for the main character. You jumped into their lives before the events that led into the original storyline. Earning their trust and unfortunately causing some peculiar emotions in them to develop.

This fucks up the whole plot. I mean, that was your plan. You just weren't trying to fuck it up so bad that you unintentionally attracted multiple yans who decided you were the perfect match for them. You were a joy to be around. You were far more intertwined in their lives than the previous main character ever was. It was generic with them and their story. A boring, "yan see's their darling from afar for the first time and falls in love on sight." Type plot.

But with you, it was so much more personal. They grew to love you for way more than just your looks. They got to know you as a person before any sort of feelings of devotion could form.

This made their efforts to claim you so much worse than they ever were in the original plot. They were much more sinister and brutal. They usually only did massive amounts of stalking, blackmail, and the occasional murder when it came to the canon story, whereas they went all out for you.

Kidnap, murder, torture, blackmail, stalking, theft, harassment, etc. Everyone around you was a threat in their eyes. Everyone around you didn't deserve you.

By the time you realized what you've done, what you've created, its far too late to fix your mistake. You attempted to break off the friendships, avoiding them at all costs, closing yourself off and spending your time trying to find a way back to your original world.

But they don't take kindly to that. Not after everything you guys have been through. Before you could find the key back home to your world, you'd be whisked away, having your new world be the confines of your yans humble abode, away from society.

Bonus option: You attempt to bring the original main character back into the plot in hopes they could redirect the yandere back into chasing them and get them off your back. But why would they need this stranger? They don't know them like they know you. And they could care less to even try to get to know them. So, the original main character ends up taking on the role you were supposed to be. The side character who was meant to die to further the plot.

You're the main character now.

[diamondsunbursts-and-marblehalls]

Honestly, I think from the moment that Percy found out that not every demigod has a loving mortal parent they can depend on, when they already can't depend on the gods, and that Annabeth specifically, hasn't had anyone take care of her like that since she was 7, he decided he would be the one to.

They take care of each other up to that point, but I think that's when he starts noticing how much she takes care of them. She already knew if she didn't no one else will. She protects them against humans, she stands with them against monsters, she always brings up the rear of the group when they're running, and she is always the first one to make a move when they're fighting. She does it because no one is going to protect her if she doesn't do it herself. No one is going to protect Grover and Percy if she isn't.

In the arch, he pretty much tells her he would fight the gods for her, and then he goes on to do just that.

Athena, the one person who was supposed to protect her willingly pushes monsters her way, she lets Echidna and the chimera into a place that was supposed to be safe. Her decision is that Annabeth should be punished, and say what you want, but I think she knew that Annabeth would think through every scenario and know that someone had to stay and hold them back. And I think she knew that Annabeth would be the one to stay. Because that's the way she raised her, knowing that no one cared whether she lived or died. And I think that's the cruellest part.

Which is why Percy's sacrifice means so much more. He not only made the decision to trade his life for hers and fight the monster so she and Grover could escape, but he also made the conscious choice to push back against Athena's wishes. He fought a goddess for her, Athena said "Annabeth will die for her impertinence" and Percy said "Not today, not ever"

[justaz]

country bumpkin merlin not knowing anything about city life and accidentally courting arthur without knowing

merlin, watching gwen give lancelot her favor: why do you do that

gwen, heart eyes at lance and not paying that much attention to the conversation: so he knows i’m rooting for him

merlin, with an Idea: ah.

gwaine, lover of chaos, pisser offer of nobles and royals alike, ultimate wingman: merlin…you have such lonely lips. shall i introduce them to mine?

merlin, unaware of the game gwaine is playing: so you can steal my breath away? i think not, scoundrel

arthur, crushing his goblet in his hand:

merlin: arthur’s been in a bad mood recently :( i should cheer him up

merlin, remembering when arthur was put out when merlin brought morgana flowers and not him: i know just the thing

merlin, bringing a bouquet of carnations, roses, and tulips and setting them on arthur’s table while he’s eating breakfast: good morning, sire

arthur, trained on flower language in hopes that one day when he was to take a queen he could woo her easily, trying not to audibly choke on his sausage as he reads merlin’s declaration of love sitting in front of him:

arthur, who recently found out about merlin’s magic and was trying to find a way to bring it up, catching him in the act and watching merlin panic to explain himself:

merlin, Freaking: and i swear to you arthur, i have only ever used it for you. my magic is yours. my life is yours. i am yours. i would never do anything to harm you. i have protected you for years and will continue to do so at your side if you’ll have me

arthur, already believing them to be courting, desperately trying to figure out if that was a proposal for marriage or not but tired of being confused and deciding fuck it: here.

merlin, taking it: i…uh…huh?

arthur, watching merlin with hawk eyes and trying to figure out what he’s thinking and feeling: it’s my mothers sigil

merlin, confused as FUCK but is focusing on the fact that arthur is handing him something of his mother rather than a death sentence: my…my lord?

arthur, realizing how scared merlin’s must be about him finding out about his magic and trying to comfort him while also proposing, killing two birds with one stone: i will always keep you at my side, merlin, so long as we both shall live. if you’ll allow me.

merlin, almost collapsing with relief and tearing up, smiling at arthur as if he had parted the storm clouds to allow sun to shine down on them in that moment: of course…of course, arthur. always and forever.

merlin, watching the castle staff rush this way and that: wow. this banquet must be incredibly important

sir leon the long suffering, day one ride or die, one of the original merthur shippers: banquet? merlin, this is for your wedding

merlin, overworked and exhausted: my WHAT? to WHO??

leon, regretting everything he’s ever done in his life that led him to this moment: to…arthur?

merlin, over joyed but also absolutely befuddled: i’m getting married to ARTHUR?????

leon: you two have been courting for the past year or so, have you not?

merlin: i’ve been COURTING ARTHUR?????? FOR A YEAR?????????