#i specifically remember i said to her ‘i dreamed that the devil was here and he was just standing there breathing and watching me sleep’

[fingertipsmp3]

Had another sleep paralysis incident last night

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: What M6 get from their parents

~ for the Vesuvia Weekly prompt, "I see where you got it from"! ~

Julian

For someone who's never claimed to be a sailor, he sure spends a lot of time at sea and dreaming about future boats

It's much less surprising when he starts talking about the few hazy memories he has of being the oldest son of merchant parents. His early childhood was spent playing above and below decks

Which explains his specific brand of wanderlust pretty well. Instead of it being a boredom with the mundane or a fear of commitment, it's this deep sense of himself as a global citizen

He's happiest in marketplaces and finding his family among odd groups of people from all over the world, what can he say??

Not to mention his "if I can't find what I need here, maybe I just need to try somewhere else" mentality when it comes to problem solving. Need more education? Time to visit a new country!

It would make sense for his natural aptitude with learning new languages, forming quick connections, and creating collaborations to have come from fairly successful merchant parents as well

Whether that's also where he got his godawful cooking skills from, or whether that's just a "him" thing, remains up for debate

Asra

You learned it pretty quickly after meeting them - you know exactly where that constant, almost insatiable curiosity comes from

That, and the tendency to have a new thought, forget the current conversation, and trail off into disjointed mumbles as said thought gets rapidly unpacked and explored from several angles

If Salim is who Asra gets his brain from, Aisha is where he got his spirit. That stubborn hope and determined dedication to care for who he loves? He got that from the women who looked the Devil dead in the eye and told him to leave her child alone or else

You can also see a lot of the way Asra relates to you in the way their parents relate to each other. It's that easy, intuitive comfort of shedding pretenses from the get go and embracing uniqueness

Why bother trying to show off what you're good at, when you could try something new together instead? Sure they could give you a tour of their gate - or Salim could give his experimental magic a test run now that you're around to help out!

Not to mention how all three of them seem to know healing magic

And they all love a good cup of tea

Nadia

She could spend hours telling you exactly how unlike her sisters and parents she is, but let's be real. Satrinava genes are strong and you could pick one out of a crowd any day

The intelligence levels she couldn't hide if she tried? Check

The absolute perfection of her fashion choices? Check

The habit she can't turn off of looking not just at you but through you with a kind of perceptive, piercing gaze that has no intention of telling you what she's figuring out about you? Also check

(Seriously, every member of her family does it nonstop and at this point you're wondering if you should just give up all your secrets)

The tendency to approach any problem or conflict by openly stating her own opinion/perspective first? Check

The down-to-earth openmindedness that you have to actually talk to her to discover? Check. Nazali seems to be the one exception, but you're pretty sure that's after years of traveling around

The immediate need to take responsibility for whatever's going on, or more accurately, going wrong? Check

Somehow always smells nice? Check

Muriel

There was a lot about Muriel that you thought was "just Muriel" until you made that trip South together and saw all the subtle ways he became more grounded in himself

Nobody's concerned about taking up too much space in vast tundra. No wonder he always seemed to feel cramped

It also seemed a bit counterintuitive for such a minimalist furnace of a man to own a veritable pile of furs until you walked into Khamgalai's hut. He might not remember it, but he probably spent his first few years wrapped and dressed in them

Not to mention his tendency to fill his space with earthy, herbal smells to the point of carrying pouches of it with him. There were dried foraged plants all over the rafters there

What eventually came to be one of his strongest ties, though, was his craftsmanship. How someone who disliked frivolous things did so much detail was beyond you, until you saw those tapestries

And, of course, the remnants of years of nomadic movement in his need to spend hours at a time outside every day, keeping a steady pace through the forest to assure himself that all is well

Portia

This didn't spring out at you from her the way it did from her brother, but Portia has a capacity for dramatics that she does a deviously excellent job of downplaying

Sure, she seems considerably better adjusted and grounded than he does, and sure, her tendency to compensate for the unique needs of her loved ones shows up in being hypercompetent

But you're certain at this point that at least one of her parents was a hell of an actor/dramatist. You've watched how easily she can put on whatever face she needs to accomplish what she wants

Not to mention the love of stories and art of storytelling. You know you're at a Devorak gathering when both you and half the other people in the area are totally drawn in to a fond memory retelling

You can also see the makings of traveling merchants in her job as Vesuvia's ambassador. It's almost scary how easily she makes herself at home spending months at sea, going place to place

And both scary and awe-inspiring when she finds herself locked in negotiations. Whether with a marketplace stall owner, or a stubborn noble with an import she wants, she's indomitable

Lucio

Honestly, beyond their physical similarities, it's pretty hard at first to see all the ways in which Lucio takes after his mother

They're both such strong products of their environment. Morga is stern, stonefaced, and (to put it bluntly) stingy, but she takes accountability beyond her means and always faces hard choices

Lucio is the opposite. Loud, expressive, flamboyant, unconcerned with discipline or rules, terrified of hard choices or accountability, and (when he's not under duress) generous to a fault

The first place you saw it? Their dismissiveness, unfortunately

As soon as it's not something they understand or relate to, they both lose interest in talking about it and tend to be quick to brush it aside, often without pausing to consider other's feelings first

Not to mention how quickly both of them jump to using aggression to express themselves. You can tell it's got a whole lot more to do with how intensely they feel things than any bad intentions

But the trait you learn they share most is what you take the longest to notice: quiet, unassuming protection as a subconscious love language. They'll always keep watch when you're vulnerable

[hvghes]

Wildest Dreams - N.Hischier x Schneider!reader

Nico Hischier. Captain of the New Jersey Devils, never in a million years did the twin sister of Braden Schnieder think she would be in bed with a man on her brother's rival team. But here she is tangled up with the Swiss man in the bed of her hotel room. It was the first game of playoffs, they had met on March 30th when the rangers last played njd. She didn’t mean to run into him, quite literally she ran into him. She was looking for her brother after the game since he was her ride back to their hotel but being in a new area she was lost and panicking. She ran into the 6’1 man and nearly fell but he caught her. “Hey woah, I don’t think you’re supposed to be down here.” He said while helping her stand up straight noticing the Rangers jersey, but gosh was she the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. “I’m sorry, I was looking for my brother. He's supposed to be somewhere down here but I got lost. I've never been here before..” She said, staring down at the ground, embarrassed that she got lost and ran into the rival team's captain. He placed a finger under her chin to lift her face up to look at him. “That’s alright but why would your brother be down here that would mean-” “He’s on the other team yeah, uh well you see my brother is Braden, im his twin sister y/n.” She said face partly flushed, he had the most beautiful eyes she’s ever seen. “Well you’re on the wrong side angel but I'll take you to where your brother should be, that sound alright?” She nodded and he hummed in response leading her to where the Rangers locker rooms were located. Once they arrived he bid her a farewell and began to head back to his side. “Wait!” She yelled while trying to catch up to the brunette. “I never got your name.. Or your number.” She said semi-confidently, but a little shaky from regret of what she just said. “Woah bold now aren’t we darling.” He said smirking and took her phone from her hand and put in his number. “I’m Nico. Nico Hischier, it was a pleasure to meet you until next time.” He said and moved the hair that fell in front of her face from running out the way and pulled her hand up to leave a soft kiss on her knuckles. “Until next time Nico.” She said before heading back to her brother.

Now back to them intertwined in bed two weeks later after their first interaction. They’ve been on a few dates but nothing more. still no title. “Remember the day we met, how confident you tried to be, it was adorable honestly.” Nico said, facing her in bed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Someone had to make the first move you left, what else was I gonna do.” She playfully scoffed and he let out a soft laugh. “You know I would’ve just went on Instagram to search you up. Dm you like, ‘oh hey remember me I saved you from falling wanna go on a date.’” He said while she playfully shoved him. “You’re an idiot, Hischier.” She said before he pulled her in for a kiss, it was a slow soft sweet kiss that couldn’t turn into anything else as Nico’s alarm went off signaling he would now have to leave for the game and she groaned. “Do you have to go, can’t you just wait 5 more minutes? I mean my hotel isn’t even that far from the arena.” She said, trying to pull him back to bed. “I wish I could stay angel but I’ll see you after the game I promise. Text me when you leave and when you get to the arena. Drive safe, I'll see you later.” He said before placing a soft kiss on her forehead then her lips a little tradition Nico started doing before leaving or when greeting her.

She soon began to get ready and eventually arrived at the arena and texted Nico before making her way to her spot in the sea of blue. She watched as her brother skated onto the ice for warm ups and she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Her brother had a specific rule that she was to stay away from members of rival teams. Even when they were in high school, any rivals were off limits. No one knew of their secret getting together even if they weren’t officially dating she still felt guilt. It was left in the shadows. It was better off that way for now. The game ended and it ended awfully for the devils. Rangers won 5-1 leading the series 1-0 and she knew Nico was going to be extremely upset. She sent him a text that she was on her way to him. Although she forgot she was placed in her brother's Rangers jersey and as soon as she arrived she saw him and he quickly ran up to her. “You shouldn't be here right now. I’ll see you later.” He said before attempting to leave but she quickly pulled him back. “Look I know I shouldn’t be here but I just wanted to tell you that you did good and don’t doubt yourself, you’re amazing Nico I’ll see you later, cap.” She said quickly before placing a kiss on his cheek before heading off to her brother. He couldn’t help but smile to himself. Maybe whatever this relationship is with a girl who’s brother is on their rival team wasn’t so bad afterall.

- @drysdalesv @jhughesl0v3r

[plague-of-insomnia]

Six Sentence Sunday: New AU Snippet

So this is quite a lot longer than 6 sentences, but since I haven’t posted any snippets of anything in a few weeks I thought I’d go ahead and share this.

This is for the sebard AU I’m hoping to write for the holiday season, with Firefighter Bard and Priest Sebastian.

Just my favorite recipe of two broken people coming together to heal, with the added kinkiness of one being a Catholic priest, bc priest Seb is always hot, right?

Keep in mind this project is in the early stages so things are subject to change by the time it’s ready on AO3.

The witching hour, and as usual, Father Sebastian couldn’t sleep. So instead of lying in bed staring at the same cracks in the rectory ceiling for hours, he was in the sanctuary, cleaning and tiding up.

It wasn’t necessary, of course. The widow who helped him manage the church also took care of the maintenance, since he didn’t need her to cook. But idleness, Devil’s invite or not, had never suited Sebastian.

He gathered up the box of candles and went and replaced all of the plain ones around the altar before moving on to the prayer candles, some of which still glowed from the parishioners who’d lit them the day before.

Out of habit, once he’d replaced any that had burned away to a pile of wax, he lit one of his own, murmuring an “Our Father” in rapid Spanish before doing the sign of the cross.

He didn’t have anyone specific in mind when he did this ritual, and sometimes wondered if he lit the candle for himself. It was pathetic that a priest felt he needed a light to guide him to God’s help, and yet here he was. Again.

He sighed and gathered up the cleaning and other supplies to carry back to the sacristy to store them away until tomorrow night, when he’d likely repeat his vigil again.

Despite having to rise early for morning mass each day, sleep often eluded him, and he had become so used to making do on only a handful of hours of rest each day that it had become normal.

After all, the fatigue weighing heavily on his shoulders was a pleasant distraction from the emptiness within him he had tried and failed to fill with God.

He had just re-emerged from the sacristy when he heard the creak of the large wooden doors at the front of the church, which led into the narthex, just before the main worship hall, or nave.

Sebastian hadn’t yet locked up completely; it was rare for anyone to wander in so late, especially since his church was located in a quiet, peaceful residential area. And yet, despite this, Sebastian had felt it wrong for him to be awake and not keep the doors open for anyone who might seek shelter or guidance in the wee hours.

The man who entered was blond, broad and muscled, hands jammed into his pockets, wandering in as if he were lost. And perhaps he was, in more ways than one.

Striding closer, Sebastian greeted him. “Welcome, my son,” he said. “May I help you?” his voice echoed in the large, empty space, magnifying the lilt of his British accent, a corruption of the public school manor of speaking he’d picked up as a child, mangled with his mother’s Spanish flavor and years of living in Texas.

The man seemed startled, glancing around and blinking as if waking from a dream. He cleared his throat. But didn’t answer.

Now, Sebastian recognized him. Bardroy Simms. Though it had been more than five years, this man had been a part of his congregation, faithfully coming to 9AM mass every single Sunday with his wife and son, excepting the days he was on duty at the fire station.

Sebastian hadn’t been assigned here long enough to marry the man and his wife, but he had baptized their son, and given him his first reconciliation and communion, the first steps for any Catholic on their way to being a full member of the faith.

. . . And he had also given them last rites in the hospital, before the hard decision to end life support was made.

And, of course, he had presided over their funerals.

Sebastian still remembered the heat of that day, the hot sun burning into his black cassock. How Bard had stared blankly without shedding a single tear as his wife and son were laid to rest.

Until today, Sebastian had never seen the man again once the dirt was shoveled and the mourners had left. He had tried to reach out, but what could a priest who had never married—let alone had children of his own—know about the grief that man was enduring?

Sebastian’s job was supposed to be the people’s connection to God, to counsel and to guide when they needed him most, and he had failed Bard.

Bard didn’t sink into a pew, simply stopped halfway to the altar, to Sebastian. Now that he could see him better, his face was unshaven, golden stubble catching the light from the candles, dark bags beneath his eyes, his short hair disheveled.

He scratched his cheek absently, swallowed thickly, before saying, “Saw the lights were still on. Figured this’s better than falling into a bottle again.”

Sebastian inhaled sharply, took a few steps closer. “Why don’t I make you some tea and we can talk. I’m a good listener.”

The man seemed confused but simply nodded. “Thank you, Father.”

Sebastian wanted to say he was only doing his duty, helping a parishioner in need, but that wasn’t the truth. Not really. It was selfish and prideful and he’d need to do penance for it later, but the reality was he wanted to make up for his past failings.

His shoes clicked and echoed as he walked toward the front doors.

Sebastian had an idea why Bard was here suddenly after so many years’ absence. He had read about the recent apartment fire that had killed half a dozen people, including a boy of around seven. His photo and family had been all over the news.

Bard was a hero who had saved many lives that day, but Sebastian knew the boy’s death had to be haunting him. He even looked a little like the son he’d lost all those years ago.

Securing all the locks on the main door, he did a quick sign of the cross, kissing his fingers before turning back to face the altar.

Bard stood, staring up at the large crucifix that hung on the wall beneath the stained glass as if hoping for divine revelation. Or perhaps a bolt from the blue to put him out of his misery.

That was certainly a feeling Sebastian could relate to.

[figurativepieceoftrash]

Avid supporter of avoiding your wips.

Not sure if you have something you specifically want to write but Fiend!Aki has been rotting in my own drafts with no where to go

There were so many ways I could've interpreted this prompt and I'm almost 100% certain I did it wrong but here's an Asa/War spin on the Aki and Gun Devil situation, for, y'know, funsies

Sorry it took so long, I ended up procrastinating on this just like I do my wips, so y'know, obviously this exercise worked out super well :P

Here you go regardless <33

---

Aki doesn’t remember much about the incident.

The sound of gunshots. Scattered screams. A stinging, smokey smell thick in the air, as dense and inescapable as the aftermath of Obon. Cold metal smattered across his taste buds, rife with the selfsame rust-touched exigency as blood.

He’d been dreaming, or so Denji relates from the bedside of a maximum security hospital room. A dream he’s certain he could recall, if he wished to. He doesn’t.

Makima had called him lucky, as she’d studied him with those hypnotic, unblinking eyes. Unharmed, save a few noncommittally lingering scars. 

She’d dragged a slow, lazy finger across the red band of his upper arm, and his heart had raced thrice as swiftly in his chest. Said something about them having to reattach it in the ER, about Denji having done quite the number.

Aki hadn’t heard a thing. He’d been far too busy staring into those eyes. They’d lit something in the back of his brain, a sharp, nagging spark of recognition, persistent and enduring. It was only then he’d thought to ask after the Angel Devil, only then that he’d been certain the two were conversing, when it’d happened.

The spark in the barrel. The moment of ignition. The suckerpunch recoil.

Makima had just smiled. Pressed a smooth, gentle fingertip to Aki’s lips. Somehow, after that, the question didn't matter. It still doesn’t.

“You’re a very unique specimen, Aki,” Makima had noted, head cocked and eyes alight with dark curiosity, “can you tell me why the Gun Devil has taken such a keen interest in you?”

He’d tried not to flinch at the name. He’s still upset that he’d failed. “No. Just that I wish it hadn’t.”

The corners of her mouth had twitched at that. Such a minute movement, so human, but Aki had found an impression of intentionality in it, somehow. The careful, premeditated performance of organic vulnerability.

“You’d rather it left you to die?”

He’d thought of Power, then. Of Denji. No. 

The death count still rolling across the wall-mounted hospital television, the footage of a gun barrel protruding from his forehead, his brother, his parents, his commitment. Yes.

What he says is “maybe.”

She’d laughed at that, high and clear as a bell, and Aki isn’t even angry for it. He can’t be. It’s Makima.

“I’m glad,” she’d said, “that you’re mine.”

Aki couldn’t agree more. He just wishes the back of his brain would too. It’s still sounding off even now, muted as it is. Still doesn’t like the look of Makima, of her eyes.

Still thinks of Angel, even when Aki finds he can’t.

“This sucks.” Power’s complaints had been predictably ineloquent. “The apartment is trashed so I can’t see Meowy, this hospital is super boring, and Denji doesn’t even have enough cash to buy me stuff from the vending machine. I’m hunggggryyyyy!”

She wasn’t trying to be insensitive, Aki knew. If things had been difficult for her after their run in with the Darkness Devil, they were even more difficult now that she’d seen one of the few enduring constants in her life behave unpredictably. Dangerously. Lethally.

He’d almost killed Denji. Several times he’d almost killed Denji. So he’d offered her an arm.

“Here. Only take a little. If you bite too hard I’ll knee you in the stomach.”

She’d been quick to accept the offer and even quicker to disregard the warning, needle-sharp teeth breaking over his skin and digging straight into sensitive nerves. He’d forced himself to take his eyes off the river of stray blood that slid down his bicep. It resurfaced too many memories. Memories of gunshots and screams, smoke and metal.

“Yuck!” The exclamation had taken him completely by surprise. Doubly so when Power had withdrawn to spit the contents of her mouth down the front of his hospital gown. “Fiend blood can be so gross. This stuff tastes like steel.”

“Thanks,” he’d muttered darkly, thoughts turning over the heart of her complaint as he’d risen to visit the bathroom. 

Fiend blood. 

It was the first time anyone had said it aloud, in those terms. He's fine with amalgam. With anomaly. Even threat is alright, considering that it is, for all intents and purposes, accurate.

And the fact that it, like its equally vague, shapeless peers, places distance between Aki and the thing he's become. A thin wall of uncertainty to shield the was from the is. The familiar from the unthinkable.

Aki always thought he hated false comforts. Now, he's beginning to suspect he'd just never been introduced to a truth worthy of delusion.

It visits him sometimes, the Gun Devil, always in the dead of night and always terribly, gut-wrenchingly accusatory. Vaguely translucent, it positions itself in the corner of his room and stays there. Mute. Gleaming. Inhumanely still.

Power and Denji can't see it, of course, which means that one way or another, it resides in Aki’s head. This should be comforting, according to Makima, the fact that the Gun Devil is contained, and better, under control of the Japanese government.

There's no real control to this though, Aki thinks, the strange pseudo-peace between himself and the time bomb ticking within the fragile confines of his skull. Just the illusion of it.

He doesn't recall anything leading up to the inciting incident. Doesn't know how he died or what allowed the devil to take control. Why it lost it, following his concussion. When it might try its luck again.

This is why Aki has been forced to reside in the Commission’s headquarters, subject to intrusive levels of surveillance and constant physical surveys. Partial host autonomy isn't unheard of, in the case of fiends, but it is exceedingly rare, especially regarding beings of the Gun Devil's caliber.

Aki imagines he can't be as singular as Denji, but then again, Denji isn't quite so unpredictable. The Gun Devil can't be sated by the promise of simple pleasure, can't be reasoned with, or even communicated with, to Aki’s most meticulous observation.

It's as thoughtless as it is brutal, the epitome of action without thought. Maybe this is because it's technically incomplete, or maybe it's because the concept it represents is ultimately more tool than perpetrator. Aki can't say.

Can't force himself to care, either.

He glares at the thing when it shows its presence, hurling the occasional obscenity in the case that he's certain of his own seclusion. Nothing impacts it though, not really. It just stares, and stares, and stares.

Makima’s visits are sporadic at first, cursory and seemingly meaningless, but they grow with time, both in consistency and purpose. Oddly enough, most of her inquiries don't relate to Aki’s condition. They relate to Denji.

“Is he progressing socially with the staff?”

“How attached would you say he is to his new accommodations?”

“Is he happy?”

Aki doesn't question Makima's seeming obsession–in all honesty, he suspects he couldn't if he wanted to. He just nods along or shakes his head as required, answering swiftly and candidly as he's able.

Giving Makima the things she wants is second nature, simpler and more automatic than breathing. He never thinks to question it, if he even thinks at all.

The Gun Devil appears sometimes, just after she leaves the room. These are the only occasions in which it seems to display agency, or at the very least, some degree of behavioral variation. Because then, it doesn't stare at Aki. It stares at the door.

It stares after Makima.

“Does the Chainsaw Devil ever do that?” He can't help but ask over a tray of bland hospital food. Power and Denji already swiped up everything with flavor. “Manifest visually?”

“Like, can I see him? Nah.” Denji frowns, the expression oddly melancholic. “Wish I could, though.”

And Aki is just as lost as ever.

The doctors tell him his vitals are normal. That his brainwaves are consistent. Obviously his head isn't a gun.

“You can't transform at will?” One asks, eyebrow raised. “That's unusual, based on what we've observed.”

Aki just shrugs. What about his situation isn't?

He gets the impression that the commission is dissatisfied with his lack of control over the Gun Devil, presumably because it means they can't effectively employ it.

“We've lost more than we've gained here,” one surveyor whispers to another when they think he's asleep, though he isn't quite lucid enough to catch the rest of it. He does think on though, at least until Makima returns and his mind, once again, goes numb.

Things are consistent, for a good while. Predictable. Almost comfortable, if he ignores his midnight visitor. Power finds a hobby in harassing the hallway guards. Aki learns the weekly rotation schedule of his doctors. Denji is relaxed again. Contented, just like Makima seems to desire.

And Aki, too, is happy. Until one night, without warning or prior fanfare, something changes.

It's dark outside, far past one in the morning, and silent for it. Nothing distracts Aki from his mute, late night musings aside from Power and Denji’s soft, even breathing and the familiar background whirr of facility electronics.

And then, something speaks.

“You should run.”

Aki jolts up, ramrod straight, in bed, stirring, but not waking, Denji and Power with the motion. The voice is foreign, deep and grating like rebar dragging across concrete, and it sets every nerve in his body immediately on edge.

His gaze lands, immediately, on the figure in the corner of the room. His body with a full pistol for a head. The thing is stone-still. Expressionless, insofar as a gun can be.

But somehow, he's absolutely certain he heard it talk.

He wraps a protective arm around each form at his side, trying to ignore the persistent shaking that's overtaken his hands. “Are you threatening me?”

It cocks its head to the side, as if in contemplation. Waits for a moment. Makes an odd noise somewhere between a click and a whirr.

“She's coming. You should run.”

Aki blinks, perturbed. “She?”

“She.” It nods, slow and self-assured. “You won't like what happens after.”

“I– what the Hell is that supposed to mean?”

As if in explanation, the thing raises a hand, ring and pinky finger pressed to the palm, and points purposefully at first Power, then Denji, performing short, jolting upwards motions towards each. A firing fingergun.

Aki's blood runs icecold.

“You're going to make me hurt them again, aren't you?”

“No.” It somehow has the gall to sound offended. “She is.”

“She? Who the fuck is she? I don't–”

“Control.” It says the word with such fearful, adorant gravity. As if it's speaking of a superior. As if it's speaking of a god. “She approaches.” Then, in a sharp, purposeful whisper, a bullet from a barrel, it utters the word again. “Run.”

Aki doesn't trust the thing. Not even moderately. But hearing this thing, this vast, limitless, horrible, inhuman thing, express terror, of all emotions, is enough to light a fire under his ass. To force adrenaline through his veins. To break him from his odd, trancelike haze.

He shakes Power with one hand and Denji with the other.

“How dare you wake the great, indomitable Power while she's resting, you absolute–”

“Hey, what the hell, man? I was dreamin’ about tits–”

“Shut up.” And like dogs at a whistle, they do. “We're going out for a run. Get your shoes, we can't take anything else.”

There must be something in his tone, because neither protest. Just nod with varying degrees of enthusiasm and run to the mat at the doorside to retrieve their sneakers.

The halls are labyrinthine, and Aki doesn't know them well. Navigating them is a guessing game in broad daylight; after dark, it's an impossibility.

But Power seems to know where she's going, either by smell or by sound, and when she decides to lead the way through the Commission facility's winding corridors, Aki makes the bold decision to follow her lead.

Usually the place never sleeps, constantly outfitted and operated by federal pencil-pushers and devil-hunters alike, but tonight, it's completely and utterly empty. Even the guards outside of Aki’s room are absent.

“Somethin's off,” Denji voices Aki’s concerns between hastened breaths, “like, really off. This place feels… weird.”

It would be impossible to disagree. The difference may be strange and implacable, aside from the lack of personal, but it does.

“How'd you know?”

Aki tried to shrug. Tries not to look at the thing keeping pace besides him. It may look calm, but he knows that the truth is anything but. Fear is radiating off it in waves, fear and a cold, overpowering desire for liberation.

“Just did.”

The thing at his side offers updates, as they run.

“She knows you've left the room.”

“She follows, close behind.”

“It is likely she will catch you.”

They aren't particularly helpful.

Not until, the trio turn a corner, exit suddenly in sight, to hear a fourth tactile presence enter the hallway.

“She's here.”

And she is. The approaching clack of heeled footfalls confirms it. The sense of oppressive calm that washes over Aki, a blanket. The familiar voice that wraps around the walls to reach his ears.

“Stop running.”

And he does. How couldn't he? It's Makima.

Denji stops too, turning on his heel with a massive, world-spanning grin, but Power doesn't. She keeps running until she hits the doors, only turning to cast a terrified scowl over her shoulder.

“Not safe!” She growls, animalistic, “keep running! Keep running!”

“It's just Makima.” Denji sounds so sure of himself. And he should. All is right in the world. All is calm. Makima will fix things. She always does.

And then, she's in sight, cheerful and unblinking, and Aki can't help but grin in turn.

“Come here,” she orders him, arms outstretched. And the order is for him, he knows, he can feel it. “Not you,” she adds, likely to Denji, “just him, for now.”

So instead, Denji speaks. “Makima, something weird’s going on, the place is totally empty and–”

“Shhh.” Soft and gentle, that's how the sound escapes her lips. Like silk Like a sigh.

“You walk to your death.” The Gun Devil, again. Only this time, its words mean nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. “You readily embrace it. Do not be so foolish.”

As Aki draws near, her arms wrap around him like a cradle, head resting against her shoulder. The low, warning roar grinding through his mind fades to nonexistence. 

“It wasn't supposed to happen like this,” she breathes in the crux of his neck, “so suddenly. You were meant to die then, you know. Now, I don't think I'll let you die at all. That might be more effective, hm? At least as a failsafe.”

Aki nods. Of course Makima is right. She always is.

“Makima?” Denji doesn't sound scared. Not yet. Just confused. “What's going on? Is this–”

“Denji?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Shut up.”

They're odd words, coming from Makima’s lips. Odd, and callous, and just upsetting enough that the Gun Devil's words are able to find an opening, one last time.

“Run.”

Aki would like to say he tries. But he doesn't.

“Transform.”

And then, Aki's world goes black.

[tgrailwar-zero]

I mean, you did call us the devil, wouldn't the company of a demon be pretty fitting?

You could practically hear him roll his eyes.

ARCHIVIST: "Mhm."

Any other attempts at banter were met with a brick wall. It seemed like he had said his piece, and didn't exactly care enough to hold a conversation.

It was at this point that you realized that AVENGER had also walked off.

...Guess that meant it was time to get going.

As you were shooed off by the ARCHIVIST (or left before he had a chance to, at least), it was just you and the cards.

The card really was self-explanatory. It had the name of the section blinking on it, and served as a quiet GPS to lead you there. It was very useful. And, when you found the second you needed, you noticed that the shelves moved and shifted and all you had to do was put in either the specific name of a book, or the topic, and it would get you started.

Reading was… well, uneventful if you didn't enjoy research, but great if you did.

There wasn't really much here that differed from what SIGURD had told you regarding the Moon Cell specifically, which wasn't a ton to begin with.

The Moon Cell was a natural phenomenon, Magi flocked to it, Holy Grail War, Titan attack.

It goes into some detail concerning a Great Lunar Ritual, with experience prompting that it was supposedly what the locals referred to the Grail War as. A free-for-all, with 999 preliminary participants that eventually got pared down to 128 Masters and Servants, fighting for the 'Holy Grail' within the Moon. Golden kings, massive mechanized warriors, so on so forth.

And then there was more of what SIGURD told you.

The Titan attacked, and the Holy Grail War went from a Free-for-All to an actual War, at least with the Servants and Masters both alive and willing to participate. An coalition called 'The Lunar Sea Council', headed by the heir to the West European Plutocracy, brought together Wizards and warriors alike.

In your research, you reach a bit of a hitch.

You find a message tucked in the data- opening it up. A knight, blond with shining armor, spoke quietly.

SERVANT: "I may get in some trouble for this…Caster, sorry, 'The Priestess' wants us to move on. Karna and I are the only ones that remember still. The others are new, fresh, told that this world is the only one that matters until she awakens. To sit on our laurels for now, and await her to gather up all of the power she can before engaging the Titan."

SERVANT: "I do not blame her. Our current situation is terrifying. They snuffed out Excalibur before it could even begin to shine, and my sword pales in comparison. To be told to sit and wait is irritating, but I can't argue. We're backed against a wall. Wanting a fresh start- a facade of normalcy... "

SERVANT: "Still… Leo… one day, I will return to the home front, and destroy that Titan for you. I won't move on- I won't forget. Not yet. Not until I can proudly face you when we meet again."

GAWAIN: "I, Gawain, promise you that."

The message ends. Quietly. You stew in that quiet for a moment, with the knowledge that the Servant in that message- as brave and caring as he was- never made it back to the Moon. The Interlopers and their Servants killed him. Culled him before his dream could be realized.

With that- you continue reading.

The rest of the reading is pretty straightforward. Again, mostly rehashing what SIGURD had relayed to you with some extra details.

A Heavenly Divinity, having reduced herself to the status of a Heroic Spirit, made a stand against the Titan. Using her immense power, she established a barrier between the remnants of humanity and the great titan, building a new world where life flourished- though the moon remained barren, kept ever vigil by the Lair Servants that protect the new barrier, the new world known as the 'Solar Cell' from harm.

If anything, the most interesting piece of information was the utter lack of information regarding the Moon. No True Names, no names of participating Wizards, no details about the Ritual or what exactly the 'Holy Grail' the magi were hunting for was. The titan attacked, but outside of it being great and terrible and that it had been deterred by the Heavenly Divinity, there really wasn't much else... which, considering how dense this Archive was, there should be something... right?

Regardless, that was all you could find for now.

You put down the books you had, before realizing you weren't alone. There was someone… very close to your immediate vicinity.

In other words, that was a lot of chest.

...You looked up at the head attached to the aforementioned chest.

PLAYBOY (NO SENSE OF PERSONAL SPACE): "Ga… wain…"

Now- running into a handsome, sensitive man in the library? If this was a different genre, this might count as a 'meet-cute'. Perhaps a 'romance flag'. For now, it was just a 'meet', and the 'cute' was really up to interpretation considering the opinions of your twisted amalgamated mind(s), and the color of the flag currently raised here was to be determined.

[at-thezenith]

10 songs tag

thank you for tagging me, @megarywrites ! doing this for the faery children, as usual.

rules: Use your WIP playlist and put it on shuffle. Write the first 10 songs that come up and quote your favourite lyrics from each song and/or the lyrics that fit your WIP best (they might be the same lyrics), then tag 10 people.

tagging: @deanwax @outpost51 @mrbexwrites @unmellowyellowfellow @sarahlizziewrites @ibuprofen-exe @mintyswriting @wardenwyrd @pumpkinsplots @keysandopenmind

shrike (hozier) - accurately describes how ola perceives her feelings for afsara

Dragging along Following your form Hung like the pelt Of some prey you had worn Remember me, love When I'm reborn As a shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn

visions of gideon (sufjan stevens) - tragic-sounding song, and also relates to a very sad scene in act 2 :)

I have loved you for the last time Is it a video? Is it a video? I have touched you for the last time

everybody wants to rule the world (specifically the lorde version) - this has more of a dystopian/creepy feel for it, so the lyrics here are more to do with afsara's own guilt

It's my own design It's my own remorse

soldier, poet, king (the oh hellos) - classic medieval fantasy pick. afsara is the soldier. 'nuff said.

There will come a soldier Who carries a mighty sword He will tear your city down

harsh realm (widowspeak) - i love tragic romances. even in hell ola loves afsara.

I knew you in the harsh realm I thought about how it was I thought about you because I always think about you

no rest for the wicked (lykke li) - uhhhhh listen the codependent tragedy something something i like tortured gay people

If one heart can mend another Only then can we begin So won't you hold on a little longer Don't let them get away

lavender moon (haroula rose) - a key theme of the story is dreams, and what happens in dreams affecting real life. also gay.

Walk the memories Just me and the lavender moon She knows My heart belongs to you

witch's rune (s.j. tucker) - good old witch chant

Mother of the summer fields Goddess of the silver moon Join with us as power builds Dance with us our witch's rune

devil's playground (the rigs) - this one was picked mostly for vibes i won't lie, but for lyrics i guess this would relate to the girls grappling with their desires vs their duty.

Brave, are you brave enough to meet The desires that you seek Hold my hand, I'll set you free

gypsy (fleetwood mac) - god what a classic. also lightning motif. also dedicated to your lover and how ola believes these moments are all she'll get with afsara.

And it all comes down to you Well, you know that it does and Lightning strikes maybe once, maybe twice Oh and it lights up the night And you see your gypsy

[onepiece-oc-archives]

Long time manga reader here! I've been recently trying to create an oc/self insert after years of bullying myself for being cringe instead of just having fun

I'm struggling mainly with ideas for backstory/why would Luffy want her??

It's clear that everyone Luffy has asked to join so far has something unique about them (3 swords, slingshot sniper, amazing (and super sexy) cook, best navigator/cartographer, etc etc) with *redacted waifu* being the only one to sort of just be like hey I'm part of your crew now

Basically I'm just hoping you might have some sources to ideas about why Luffy might want a new crew member?

If it helps any, my oc has a logia honey fruit and she wants to explore the world to create an encyclopedia of all the animals she comes across, but that's all I got so far 😅

Hiya! Glad you found my little corner of the internet!

First of all: YES, make that oc/self insert! Having fun is what life is all about! If you're looking for support for your ideas, you've come to the right place.

If there's one thing I've learned about backstories, it's that they often just sort of develop on their own. You don't need to start out with a fully fledged backstory. Feel free to make it up as you go.

And as to why Luffy would want your OC: He wants her because he's Luffy and she's her. As long as you have one thing that's special about you, he's going to want your on your crew, and there's a whole lot of ways to be special. Note that I said special, not extraordinary. People are special just by being themselves. Take Sanji, for example. Luffy wanted Sanji because he was kind and because he had a dream. And because he was a great cook, but so were other cooks at Baratie. He wanted Sanji specifically because he was Sanji. Or let's look at Usopp. If we're being honest here, Usopp is literally just some guy. He's a dude with a slingshot who tells stories. That's it. He's not powerful or anything. But Luffy loves him!

In case of your OC specifically, you said she has a honey fuit and she wants to create an encyclopedia of animals and that that's it for now. Well, that's already two reasons why Luffy would love her! Luffy is very excitable, so devil fruits are a huge plus by themselves, but a honey fruit? Food?! Oh boy, Luffy will love her. Also, pretty colors, because honey is shimmery and golden. He would think the devil fruit is super cool and thus the person with the fruit is super cool. And regarding the animal encyclopedia: Luffy loves animals! Specifically beetles. Remember when Luffy found an atlas beetle? Remember how our favourite reindeer asked him what was cooler, the One Piece or the atlas beetle, and Luffy couldn't decide? That's a dream Luffy would 100% support and he would love to have your OC on his crew, simply because she could geek to him about all the animals that they find.

So, I hope this helped a little :)

Luffy would love your OC, and so do I, so I can't wait to see you develop her further!

[triviareads]

I was not a a big Secret of a Summer Night fan but can you recommend me other Lisa Kleypas books?

I've definitely heard that from other people who've read Secrets of a Summer Night— I personally have mixed feelings about it; it's something of a comfort read when I want to feel 0 stress; but also, very little seems to happen in terms of plot. It's mostly set during a house party, and even with Annabelle's mom almost killing an ex, and Hunt's locomotive accident injuries, it feels very staid. I do like Hunt (one of Lisa's earlier self-made industrialist heroes, though not as much as McKenna and Rhys Winterborne), and I like Annabelle as well, despite having read multiple reviews calling her shallow and materialistic. But there are better Kleypas books out there for sure:

Again the Magic: The Kleypas book that probably makes me feel the most; I'm a sucker for a second-chance romance, especially when McKenna AGGRESSIVELY propositions Aline the second he returns. Like, that combination of immense self-loathing (on both their parts, although for Aline, more self-loathing than spite) and spite.... is very attractive to me. Also, the secondary romance between Shaw and Olivia is lovely— sweet but also has a lot of depth and realism re his alcoholism.

Dreaming of You: A classic, though for different reasons from the following two books (and closer in reasoning to Suddenly You now that I think about it). It's rare to read about a independent heroine with a career in HR, and I love Sara for that. I think it's that unconventionality, as well as her sense and nonjudgement, that makes her a perfect fit for Derek, who is a little damaged and hovers somewhere between unrefined and genteel. But reading them slowly come to that conclusion is a delight, as is the setting of Craven's gambling hell in general.

It Happened One Autumn: I've talked about this one enough on here lol, but it's just a genuinely fun book? Similar to Secrets of a Summer Night there's a lot of house party shenanigans and it doesn't super pick up until the very end, but Lillian and Westcliff's, to use Lisa's word, "vitality" mostly makes up for this. They're two such strong-willed individuals even when they're loudly and proudly wrong at various points and hilarious to read.

Devil in Winter: Unlike IHOA, a lot goes down in this book, and honestly, I feel like Evie and St. Vincent needed that in order to grow to love one another, starting with their elopement and his taking over her father's gambling hell, and ending with St. Vincent's celibacy streak... and how the streak is broken. Also, reading the redemption of St. Vincent and Evie coming into her own are big draws for me, especially if you read IHOA first.

Marrying Winterborne: I've said this before but I'm a big fan of an immediate proposition, and Rhys Winterborne and his "I must compromise you to make sure you stay engaged to me" scheme did the trick. Also, I like the idea of them being engaged to each other for most of the book (and the perks that come with that... both materially and otherwise) even as they try and figure out how to have a functional partnership.

Chasing Cassandra: More of a comfort read; I think Cassandra and Tom are very cute and if you want something relatively lighthearted and very insta-love cute, then this is your book.

Prince of Dreams: Okay so maybe the plot in this one isn't the tightest, but I'd recommend it if only for the singular delight of a Russian hero who has very few scruples in a way I personally enjoy (I also just generally enjoy a good Russian hero). Oh, and the rare vegetarian heroine who's a part of ye olde PETA.

EDIT:

Married By Morning: I forgot about this one but only because I can't remember any plot specifics BUT Leo and Marks are great characters and their dynamic is really cute and also, very unexpectedly very hot. Marks is a governess with a secret past, and Leo is her charge's older brother who took like 3 books to slowly transition from pathetic -> not which I do appreciate.

[luckyrave]

Chainsaw Man Chapter 110 Thoughts

Needed a couple days to take a bit of breather to rejuvenate my strength before I was ready to share my thoughts on this specific chapter and given the way the last one ended I felt it was a good spot to be like “mini-break”.  So now I am more than ready to continuing sharing my thoughts on the rest of the chapters, and I’m confident that I’ll be up to fully caught up on my thoughts. That said,  Chainsaw Man and Yoru have now met face to face.  So the question stands, “What happens now?” 

   Yoru immediately confronts Chainsaw Man about if he’s able to remember or not, and since we know Denji’s character; attention is focused towards her figure only for him to be caught off guard by the reappearance of the student he saved.  He is super ecstatic about saving that student’s life who is terrified by his appearance begging not eat her. It had gotten to a point where Denji was beginning to reveal his identity when Yoru was about to charge in to lay an attack on him. In a matter of seconds,  a tentacle from the Octopus Devil wrapped around Denji taking him away from the sight, and it leaves her confused. 

Where did he go? Why did he disappear? Am I just not worth his attention? Did he think I was just simply weak?  Yoru shouted in disappointment so that she can finally take out Chainsaw Man.  At the same time, we cut back to  Denji landing in the middle of a classroom where Yoshida sat in a seat.  He reminded Denji of the very thing that was mentioned in their last interaction; which was Yoshida stopping him by force if something foolish where to happen.  Of course, our poor boy was left in such disappointment because the reveal would’ve been so amazing.  All the while,  various students were conversing about everything that transpired at the school and with Yuko disappearing from the sight.

Thus, we cut to a dream sequence of Asa running through the streets; one that’s been happening to her consistently throughout her life.  How every time bodies continue to pile up as she’s running across the neighborhood towards an alleyway very reminiscent of Denji throughout Part 1.  Whenever she arrives at this specific point, Asa always finds herself waking up from the dream. It’s here where we see Asa take a sip of water just when somebody’s knocking on the door, and instantly chills went down.  Knowing the history behind doors in Chainsaw Man,  NEVER OPEN THE DOOR.  Asa makes her to get an idea who is behind the door, and the voice she hears is Yuko who warns her not to open it because of the likely chance she’ll be eaten. In this specific case,  Asa decides open the door to see Yuko who reminds her not open it due to her devil like appearance now bringing a close to the chapter.

 All in All, this chapter of Chainsaw Man gets a Pure Perfection rating. I really loved how Fujimoto continues to subvert the expectation with the readers with what was gonna transpire between Chainsaw Man and Yoru. It’s not say that we didn’t get an exchange with the two characters;  just a brief exchange of words and not necessarily a full of fight thanks to Yoshida saving Denji from exposing himself which was pretty hillarious. I also really loved how the second half of the chapter focused entirely on Asa going through the dream which felt very reminiscent of Part 1 as previously stated. Which brought us to where we are between Yuko showing up again to Asa’s place in the middle of the night. There is a few different directions the story could go, but I feel I know the direction Tatsuki Fujimoto is gonna take us. One that is going to keep us at the edge of our seats and leave shook with much anticipation. I’ll try my best to have my chapter thoughts for the next one out by tomorrow, but I already know that before next tuesday I’ll be up to date with all of my chapter thoughts and I know what we’re all gonna be anticipating here soon with Chainsaw Man .Until then, I hope you all take care of yourselves out there.                  

[akinformation]

Page 23

dream, and I have no idea what is happening. And at this moment, it’s as if time disappears, freezes. And then it passes, and I come back to my senses and feel everything again.

Nadezhda-Hope acted the same way around me and my friend back then. It was like she was doing hypnosis. First, to my friend, I don’t know what she did to him. And then she comes to me with the piece of paper, and looks at me with these furious eyes and says, “This is not in dollars but in rubles.”

Even if I wrote this story down with the names of all the people, with the specific dates and places, and all the facts, still no one would believe it. I don’t know why this is, but from somewhere, I came up with this. This is what my life became.

I remember when Nadezhda was talking about the crosses, she showed me an Orthodox cross and a catholic cross. And I asked her:

– Why is the catholic cross made of two sticks, and the Orthodox cross has one more stick here?

She said Times were different. Sometimes, the money was in abundance, and other times, it was in scarcity. Sometimes, there was more than enough material and other times, they had to make do with the little they had. But ultimately, there is no difference.

That’s the message she conveyed. That there is no difference. She means that in the essence of religion, there is no difference. Please note this.

When Nadezhda pointed her horns at my friend, making it clear that he was horned, why did she do it? At that moment, she made it clear that she sees things the same way as I do. That she is an insider. Because I knew that he was a devil. How he behaved then is how he has always behaved. He told me:

– Alex, I can connect you with a client. But let me wait for him here so that you can give me a commission from this deal.

[robinsdearest]

Three Steps Back (Part 2)

Jason Todd x Reader | Dick Grayson x Reader

Part 1

It had been six weeks since the alley incident. Six weeks since Jason returned to your world. He had reappeared in your memory where you were still lost from his. Your encounter had essentially ruined most of Jason’s progress. More than just a few steps back. 

He lost his older brother: Dick declined Jason’s calls, he refused to join the rest of the family in stakeouts or takedowns, and he has not been seen at Wayne Manor since.  Jason wasn’t positive Dick was avoiding him specifically until the devil spawn approached him after a night on patrol. Damian said Dick wanted space, but Jason didn’t think he had meant the whole damn galaxy. He just wanted answers. He wanted to speak to someone that could provide information, but he refused to speak to you. 

You had flooded his thoughts after that fateful night. His dreams were filled with the photos from his phone, now turned to moving pictures- they felt like out of body experiences, Jason now watching you and circus boy in his place. A third wheel, unwanted and forgotten. Is that how you had felt?

Maybe this was for the best. After all, Jason seemed to remember everything else. Or so he thought. 

Jason tried to go back to the small basics to see if you truly were the only missing piece. He walked his old neighborhood to find the alley where he first took the Batmobile wheels. He instantly knew the route to his favorite cheeseburger diner. He followed the path that led to Dick’s old apartment- the fire escape still creaked on the third step. Jason even borrowed Tim’s bicycle to make sure he at least remembered the simple mechanics. It took him a whole week to go through different parts of memory lane. 

Jason’s head hit the pillow back at his apartment. It’s been an exhausting time- he hasn’t taken any mercenary jobs since meeting you again. It was early in the morning after a particular long patrol night. He just needed a clear head. Jason’s memory held true for even the smallest things. But you were no small thing.  His mind crawls to the saying from one of those cheesy romance movies Stephanie made him watch with her last week.  “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.” Yeah, what a piece of shit. Jason feels sick. 

The phone ringing brought Jason to his senses. He answers with a grunt.

“I want to talk.”

Jason shoots upward from his position, sitting tall. 

“Dick?” Silence must mean compliance. “Sure. Name the time and place.” 

The older man speaks softly away from the phone. Jason can’t make out what was said, but assumes it was with a third person for confirmation. 

“B’s cave. Tonight.” 

And before Jason could ask for more specifics, the line drops. It’s two more steps forward at least. 

With no direct scheduled meeting, Jason arrives to the cave late in the evening. Nerves ultimately kept him home, even if the vigilante convinced himself otherwise.  Tim and Dick are standing by the weapons vault, Dick smiling at something Tim had said to him. The smile fades quickly when he hears Jason. 

“What’s this “oui” bit, French man?” Jason attempts his own joke to ease the tension. “I thought you said it was just you.” 

To Jason’s delight, Tim snickers in response. Dick’s frown tightens. There’s a vein on his neck that could pop at any moment.  

“Timmy’s here for mediation.” Dick nods in the aforementioned kid’s direction. “I don’t have much to say to you in all actuality.” 

It’s Jason’s turn for a vein to pop. “Then why the hell did you call me all the way out to the manor? I’ve got cases to follow.” Lies to cover his own turmoil. 

Dick puffs air through his nose. He can probably see through the lies. “Whatever.” Dick finally turns to face Jason, scowling at his brother. Jason gulps, not expecting the intensity of his gaze. “I want you to know that nothing you say will change their mind. They’ve had a lot of time to think, and I’ve been chosen.” The last word has more venom than anyone would care to admit. It’s said with malice: a choice was made. The ferocity of his voice surprises even Dick. He swears under his breath, putting a hand on the back of his neck. He apologizes quietly.  

“They just want to clear the air. Get closure.” Jason finally registers that circus boy is speaking about you. A twinge of pain has Jason desperately searching for words, but all he can do is nod. 

Dick takes Jason’s response in stride, gliding right past him. From somewhere behind him, Jason can hear Dick lower his voice.  Tim turns to follow Dick, motioning Jason to follow. As Jason turns, his breath is stolen from his lungs. 

You’re sitting at one of the data tables. Your leather jacket is thrown across the back of your chair, and your cheeks are tinted pink- from crying, Jason can finally tell. You’re even more breathtaking than the night he first saw you.  He sits in the chair next to you, there is still a safe distance between your bodies. Jason wants to give you the room to run if you wanted, but he can’t help but need to be close. He wants nothing more than to remember everything. Remember you. 

Dick and Tim both leave the cave for now. Dick is calm as he gives you one last glance before the door shuts; the exes are left alone for the first time. 

You’re refusing to look at him. He cranes his neck to meet your lowered eyes and whispers your name, an easy tenderness rolling off his tongue. 

“It really is you.” Your lip begins to tremble. Jason doesn’t initially understand the feeling in his rib cage. “I was in denial for so long.” Your hands shake with your voice. “I mourned you.” A tear finally falls, and Jason can’t breathe. Guilt. Inconsolable guilt. 

“If it’s any consolation, it’s not exactly what I wanted.” Jason mentally kicks himself. This is not a good time for humor to fill the void of uneasiness. You scoff, causing Jason to flinch. 

“No. Nobody wanted it.” Your tears are flowing faster now. Jason can’t help but feel empathetic. He doesn’t know you, but he feels for you. He hasn’t felt anything for a long time. 

You’re still refusing to look at him directly. You use your T-shirt sleeve to wipe your nose. Adorable, but gross. His eyes refuse to leave your face, searching for anything to help him remember more. 

“You were itchy.” Your sudden confession causes Jason to choke on his spit. He coughs a few times. 

He speaks when he finds his tongue. “Hold on. Itchy?”

Your teary laugh bubbles through him- he can’t help but smile. 

“People say everyone has an itch they can never scratch just right.” You look up at Jason through wet eyelashes. A deep breath in. “You and me.” A deep breath out. “We scratched all our itches. We joked about it all the time actually. How we thought we were perfect for each other. Everything you did for me was just so perfect, even when we were that young. We melded. We scratched each other’s itches, made everything feel just right. Itchy.” 

The way the last word rolls off your tongue burns Jason’s heart. It was said with such familiarity, so many memories embedded in just a single word, an unfleeting feeling. 

“Do you really not remember anything about me?” Your eyes are shining, boring a hole through Jason’s heart. He can’t lie to you.

“I see glimpses.” You nod, letting him continue. “Dreams of possible memories. I don’t know if they’re real.” You wipe your nose again. He stumbles on his next words. “I wa- I want.” Breathe, for crying out loud. “I want them to be real.” A confession of his own that Jason didn’t know he needed to say. He mindlessly thinks he’s going crazy.

You were left with everything when Jason was killed. Jason was left with nothing. You were forgotten from Jason’s memory and from his heart. Jason continued to leave scratches in your life, now turned to painful scars. 

Your thumbs are kneading into your palm. A nervous tick that has Jason’s own hand flexing in response. The action reaches a part of Jason’s mind he didn’t know existed. Is this remembering? It almost surprises him how badly he wants to hold your hand. 

Almost.

Jason reaches forward, attempting to close the space between the digits. Your mouth drops only slightly as you watch his hand inch towards yours. 

A voice stops Jason’s movements, only a few centimeters away. 

Dammit. 

“5 minutes are up.” Tim was always going to keep up his end of the deal with Dick. Damn replacement.

Jason throws a look at his younger brother that the evil genius seems to ignore. Tim shuffles awkwardly on both feet as he watches you gather your things.  You reach down to grab Jason’s hand. Yours seem much different than his: small, gentle, soft. But it fits so perfectly in his own. Itchy. The breath in his throat catches when you squeeze his fingers. 

“Take care of yourself, Jay.” 

As you walk away, the smell of your perfume trickles around Jason’s nose. Almost comically beckoning him with a cartoon finger to follow you. The nickname sticks to his ears, making them ring. Maybe Jason really is going crazy. 

Tim nods in your direction after you place a hand on his shoulder with a simple thanks. The two men watch you exit the cave, eventually out of sight but never out of mind. 

Tim whistles a small tune after a beat of silence. 

“Dick suggests you forget about it. Everything. The photos. Everything about the two of them, the two of you. Move on; move forward.” 

Jason knocks the table a few times in contemplation, giving an apathetic hum. If he is going crazy, Jason will need help.

“And what do you suggest, Timmers?”

Jason rolls his eyes when he’s met with silence. Tim whistles a long, low trill, almost as if he’s giving himself time to think. Jason dares to look towards him, yet the younger man is doing nothing but grinning ear to ear. 

“You’ve never been too keen on following direct orders.” 

[kavaeroexe]

Can u do one for incubus Obi-wan. The reader(she) works at one of those witchy store and you know finds an old book with an old language and accidentally summoning him. Please if u want😊

need to remember this, sorry for too late responding Anonn :(

 witchcraft lowly thing.

Incubus!Obi-wan x Reader

summary : “so.. I just need to say the word like.. the name of an incubus, I demand you to exist upon my wish!!!”

warning: typos, bad grammar, incubus content.

attention! please do not try to repost my works, I only post my works on Tumblr, if anyone see someone stole my works please inform me through the comments, tag me in the works, or message me!

.

.

It’s fun to know that even though you’re not a favorite child in your family, but your grandmother loves you the most

every time Grandmother tells you about her experience being a witch and the fantasy story, you wish that you could be like your grandmother as well. the moment she said she got an old bookstore for magic, your eyes shine like a diamond, and it shines even brighter when she said you could have it if you’re done with your school and university.

now you got the whole bookstore, you thank your grandmother a lot, as you spin around the moment you enter the store, looking at every crystal, magic stuff, old books that you always have been dreaming to have, now it’s all yours!! oohhh how curiosity really brought you to heaven, you can’t even think how long you’re going to take to try all of the magic written in the books of your grandma’s store!!!

you spend the first week cleaning the store, tidying it up so it could be clean and easy for you to use and enjoy the stuff there, the second week you start to decorate and try to read some light books, and now, the third week, you try to read more specific and interesting books

you can’t hold yourself to do some practicing on the fourth week, so the sneaky you, try to do it this week

silly of you, stupid of you, but oh come on! how long do you need to wait-!? it’s already all yours, no one can stop you!!

.

.

“So.. I just need to put this in here, here, and there... alrighty all done!” you claim yourself, putting both of your hands on your hips and posing proudly of your works, now you’re very excited because today what you’re going to do is...

Calling a Succubus! or.. also an Incubus.. 

but since you love something new, you don’t care whether it’s a succubus or an incubus, anything it is, as long as you can summon and at least talk to them in peace before they finally return to their own realm, it’s already a big achievement, the point is to summon!

now it’s time! you’re so nervous yet so excited, it’s something new to you, and you always face something new like this, so it’s normal but you love the feeling every time you do feel it. you spell the magic word, focusing your mind and trying to bring a nice aura to your surroundings. You close your eyes and didn’t dare to open them to see what’s happening after you do the ritual based on the book you read before.

took some time for you to check if there was a footstep, breathing, or heat around you to make sure that you really are summoning something, but you gave up trying to do everything but open your eyes, so you end up opening it anyway.

how surprised of you to find a man in black robes, with black and big wings, tail waging around him, and also a pair of horns appeared on his head, his face is beautiful, stunning and looks so seducing (Bcs that’s how their face work lmao). oh and don’t forget his upper body showing a little, showing a peak of his six-pack body, which makes your jaw drop but you quickly shake your head and start to make a little conversation but you’re too nervous because it’s your first time calling a demon..

“Oh- er hello- it’s a pleasure to see a man- I mean a demon or a devil? a-anyways nice to meet you, I’m S/o, nice to meet you- oh I already said that didn’t I?” you try to say it in the most casual way, THE MOST CASUAL WAY, yeah you’re trying so. it’s okay

“So innocent...”

is the first thing he said to you, innocent, does he mean by how you startled and nervous to greet him? or how your desire to summon him only to talk casually to him?

“Cute of you.”

It’s the second thing he said, the more he talked the more you were confused by his words like an innocent duck trying to process the thing in their brain.

now you slowly walk closer to him, erasing the distance between both of you, so you could see his face closer, you’re too curious, you mean he looks harmless, plus he compliments you

“Approach me so easily, aren’t you scared of demons?”

“mhm not really, but if you hurt me, I might start to feel scared of demons, so please don’t hurt me.”

“Pff how cute you are huh? Don’t worry you’ll be safe with me, want to make a contract little one?’

[artzee-bee]

Devil’s got a weak spot | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer (Netflix)

Request: ”Can you do this please.Lucifer is vulnerable around the reader ,And Lucifer loves the reader. Lucifer is wounded to defend the reader. reader bandages his wounds and blames him because it happened to him for her.And they have been friends for many years and the reader knows that he is the devil ,And asks him why he is vulnerable and injured and finally lucifer confesses to her how much he loves her . Thank you. Your writings are wonderful. ”

Genre: angsty with fluffy ending

Warnings: canon typical violence and bad writting probably

~~~

You laid back the seat of Lucifer’s car as much as you could, hoping to get lost in the shadows. Without wanting to, you got sucked into one of his and Chloe’s investigations, but because you weren’t a cop, you had to stay in the car while they took care of business. Well, Lucifer at least. Decker promised that she was on her way with backup but Lucifer couldn’t wait, so he ventured into the old house alone.

You two were on your way to an art exhibition when Chloe called, all but pleading Lucifer to go investigate this specific house, saying she’d be on her way as soon as possible

“Our guy is there!”

“How could you possibly know that, detective?”

“Lucifer, right now is not the time! Please, you need to go!”

As instructed, he turned the car around and drove straight to the location. He didn’t have time to drive back to the other side of Los Angeles to drop you back home, and you were too terrified to be left alone on the streets like that, so you went with him. He was the devil after all so what bad could happen? He’d take care of you! Lucifer didn’t seem too worried either, as he kept telling you that everything would be taken care of in no time and you two could go on with your night, but the further away you got into the woods, the more unsettled you felt. You didn’t want to alarm Lucifer so you kept to yourself but as soon as he got up and left to look inside the building, you felt your heart beating out of your chest in panic.

You stared at the car ceiling, trying to remember the breathing exercises a friend taught you long ago, to no avail. With every deep breath you took, you could hear your heart beat louder and louder in your ears, until you heard something else. Different. Shuffling.

You tried not to move, knowing the safest thing for you would be to stay where you were, concealed by the darkness, but you had to know what was going on outside! Maybe it was just some animal, rummaging through the woods. You couldn’t be sure it was anything threatening at all unless you took a look!

Standing up in your chair slowly, you peek out of Lucifer’s window and see a man dressed in black, digging a hole in the ground. He seemed to be about your height, but much more buff. Broad shoulder with a thick beard. You pulled out your phone, thinking this is crucial evidence that Chloe and Lucifer must have! You recorded every move of the man, from the car. Your flashlight wasn’t on, obviously, which made the quality of the video pretty sucky, but it was definitely readable. You watched slowly as the man dug out what looked like a backpack or a small luggage. He quickly grabbed it and walked away, down the street you and Lucifer had come from. You tried to follow him with your camera as much as you could but eventually, he left your view. In a spur of curiosity and bravery, you opened Lucifer’s door just slightly. Enough to be able to peak your camera out and continue recording the man! It felt like an important job, like you were part of the team and, curiously, you found the feeling of panic diminishing, replaced instead by power and pride!

The car door swung open suddenly and your phone was snatched away by a tall blonde man, dressed in all black. He quickly dragged you out of the car and gagged you with a cloth. All of this happened so suddenly, you barely had time to react or fight him off. He was much stronger than you anyways, so when he slammed you face first onto the hood of the car, you could resist him in any way that mattered.

“Y/N!!” you heard Lucifer come from behind you. He must have just exited the house. 

Everything was so confusing and you could barely process your surroundings. You got yanked away from the car, and turned to face Lucifer.

His hair was messed up and his nice shirt, the one he had bought just last weekend and had been so excited to show you, was now ruined with blood and gunk and mud. He looked out of breath but his fists were clenched, ready to fight.

“Not a single step further!” the blonde man said, as he glued the barrel of his gun to your temple. Your knees went weak.

“I’m not going to do anything!” Lucifer said, raising his hands in surrender “Surely we can come to an agreement!” “I highly doubt that!”

“There must be something that you want! That you’ve been dreaming of for years now! I can make it happen!” you saw right through Lucifer’s act. His voice was calm and somewhat conspirative, as it always was when he was granting people favours, but his eyes spoke of fear and uncertainty. Uncharacteristic of him. 

“Tell me, what is it you truly desire?”

You repressed a smile as you felt the man slightly relax his grip around you. He fell into the devil’s spell. Eventually, the words flew out of his mouth.

“I want my mom back”

“Oh, well that can be arranged! Just let me know where she is and I can guarantee that…”

“She’s dead”

“Oh…” Lucifer’s smile faded

“Yeah, I’d love to see how you’re gonna do that!” you felt the vulnerability of the man translate into his body language. As you were still pressed against him, you felt his grip loosen significantly and decided this was the one chance you got. You kicked your foot back, hitting the man right in between his legs, forcing him to let go of you completely. You took off running towards the woods behind the car but you didn’t have a chance to get far before you heard Lucifer attack the man. You looked back at the fight, only to see the blonde fire his arm into your friend’s leg. For the first time ever you saw something on Lucifer’s face that you had never seen before: pain. He screeched in agony as he pulled away from the man but before the fight went any further, another shot was fired, hitting the blonde man in the shoulder. This one came from behind you. Chloe had arrived at the luckiest of moments. You were sure that had it not been for her, you would have been dead and the guy would have probably gotten away again. Now however, he was in the back of a cop car, on his way to the precinct. Decker and the rest of her team began scouting the place for evidence while you sat outside with Lucifer, carefully tending to his wounds.

“Why?”

“What do you mean darling?” “Oh, where do I even begin!” you joked, but could feel tears brimming in your eyes “First, why did you get hurt like this? You are invincible! You always have been, I mean hell, I’ve seen you get caught in a crossfire before and walk out of it just fine! What was it about this guy and this guy's weapon that made the DEVIL bleed!” you said, showing him the bloody cloth you had been using to clean off the wound “And second, why did you attack him like that? That was reckless! I mean you got SHOT for fuck’s sake!”

Lucifer took a deep breath before answering “ It wasn’t him or his gun. It was you! I am vulnerable when I am around you”

“How is that even possible?! “ “Amenediel had some ideas about that…” he tried to laughed it off

“Like what?” you could tell he was avoiding the subject but you weren’t having it! You were deeply concerned for the safety of your friend and him keeping secrets from you was not something you could tolerate any further

“He thinks I choose to be vulnerable when I’m around you…”

“Why would you do that? That’s ridiculous!”

“For the same reason that I attacked that man Y/N” he said, meeting your eyes for the first time since you had been left alone “Because I love you. And you aren’t just a friend to me”

You looked at him in astonishment and were unable to suppress the giggling fit that took over you. You shook your head lightly before leaning up to kiss Lucifer’s lips. He tasted of black coffee and cigarettes and fit perfectly against you. He kissed you back shyly, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to.

“You should have just told me instead of taking a bullet in the leg, you know? I understand how some people would find that more romantic. Risking your life for the other person and all that, but I prefer you safe and healthy. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am” he said with a smile

“Come here!” you replied, leaning back into him for another kiss.

[teasty]

irresistible || h.hj (m)

a/n: yess fuck boy hyunjin ftw ngl,,,,i’m so in love with that idea,, especially with his long hair (i actually got into skz cuz of hyunjin’s hair lol i love longish hair on men)

● pairing: hwang hyunjin x (fem) reader

● genre: angsty n smutty (mdi!) | crack lol | enemies to lovers!au | college!au | nonidol!au

● warnings: hyunjin and reader hate each other at first :( | fighting | profanity | name calling | suggestive dialogue | fuckboy!hyunjin | snarky/goodgirl!reader | unprotected sex | hair pulling | cunnilingus | degradation + hints of praise | hyunjin is just an insecure baby underneath a tough guy exterior ;-; | virgin!reader | hyunjin keeps switching between fuck boy and sad boy |

● requested? yes!

● words: 9k

● summary: You despise Hwang Hyunjin with a passion. And he just hates you right back. You’re a good, moral student while he fucks around with everybody. He likes to pull at heartstrings while you like to pull at his palm tree hairdo. There’s nothing that makes you like the other, but when you wind up at the old art room with him and things get heated up, you see a softer, truer and more broken side to him.

Is falling in love with someone you've hated for years in the span of one night even possible? Apparently so...

i miss him so much don't @ me

“You’re too irresistible not to fuck until you're screaming my name and begging for more.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Hyunjin, or I’ll tear your stupid hair out of your head,” you threaten darkly. The ever so proud Hyunjin only scoffs, laughing mockingly at you as he shoves his hands into his pockets. He crouched down to be at eye level with you. Despite you being much smaller than him, you still stood your group, even tripped over on the floor, your once organized papers sprawled out on the floor.

“I’d like to see you try, princess,” Hyunjin’s brow raises, and your lips downturn into even more of a frown. You would never, ever dare to start a physical fight with Hyunjin, but boy you can talk. Sometimes, your mouth might even be a little bit too big for your own liking. The words just flow out so naturally, and you don’t even realize it to actually stop it from flowing off of your tongue.

It was your dumb mouth that started this whole mess, anyways. Back in the last few years of high school, your best friend (who, in the end, turned out to be the fakest bitch you’ve ever met) had gotten with a boy. A boy you had no clue even went to the school. And, that’s when you met Hwang Hyunjin at lunch that day. In all his short - haired glory. At first, he seemed pretty decent, but you knew something was off about him from the start. Sure, he had a bright smile that could make any girl with a brain filled with boys faint, but he just didn’t sit too right with you. The way he acted around your friend (at the time) and the way he’d talk to her and other girls.

At first, you didn’t think he was a fuckboy, but it was when he tried to get in your pants after you called him a fuckboy after school one day when it hit you. That was the first and only day you really punched him in the face. Giving him a black and blue bruise on his cheekbone from the impact when he tried to take your clothes off, not caring whether or not you said it was alright or not. Of course, he got mad at you, but didn’t lay a hand on you, like you thought he would. You remember bracing your body for some sort of punch, kick or push, but nothing came other than Hyunjin’s loud voice screaming curses at you and calling you all - too vulgar and hurtful names.

You would have apologized if you weren’t so upset with the fact that he tried to be your first fuck. Your virginity isn’t the most precious thing to you, but you promised yourself you wouldn’t allow yourself to lose it to Hwang Hyunjin. Especially not after that day he actually tried to fuck you behind the school. You went running to your friend afterwards. Who, to your surprise, got mad at you for trying to make her boyfriend cheat on her with you. You couldn’t believe her, and you dropped her right there.

It was actually Hyunjin who broke up with her, having her come running to you with tears in her eyes about how upset she is that Hyunjin broke up with her. Of course, you didn’t react and only ignored her for… the rest of her life so far. She eventually gave up on trying to be friends with you, and went her own direction. However, Hyunjin didn’t leave you alone.

You can swear that he’s vowed to make your life living hell after you rejected him with your fist. At first, it was just teasing. Calling you names. Making fun of stupid mistakes. Sometimes even flirting with you just to make you mad. And no matter how many times you seemed to reject, verbally or physically, he never gave. Maybe he doesn’t try to get in your pants anymore, but he won’t stop calling you stupid nicknames when he’s being a dick to you… like “princess, baby, babygirl, darling, honey, sweetheart.” Stupid, meaningless nicknames to call you just to pull at both your heartstrings and your thin line of patience.

You weren’t so friendly to call him bittersweet names like that. You decided to go with a more aggressive route of, “dickhead, motherfucker, bitch, asshole, asshat, shithead” and other conjugations of any curse word you could think of. Of course, none of it fazed him one bit. In fact, it all seemed to amuse him. Like your anger was his entertainment, and that idea pissed you off.

You’ve had friends tell you to “Just not give him the attention since that’s what he wants!” But, that was the most difficult thing to do when Hyunjin was always following behind you, yet always a step ahead. Everywhere you end up, he’s somehow ironically there, too. Everywhere you plan to go, he’s somehow, ironically, planning to go there, too. Sometimes you debate if he’s stalking, but you don’t have much social media (nor do you post anything if you did) and you made sure to always keep away from the name Hyunjin just in case it’s the Hyunjin.

But, now, you’re sitting on your ass like an idiot, papers flown around you as Hyunjin crouches down in front of you. Almost as if peering down at his prey. His judgemental eyes scan your trembling figure, shaking from the pent up anger, up and down as he smirks like the little devil he is.

You’d been running back to your classroom, having to collect papers for your professor from the teacher’s lounge. She specifically asked for them to be organized by date, and you spent a few well - focused and frustrating minutes organizing the papers. Of course, as you were running through the supposedly empty hall, looking down at your phone to check the time to make sure you’ll have enough time before the end of the class period, you slammed face first into Hyunjin’s chest. Knocking him off of his balance, but catching himself on the wall, and sending you flying back and the papers to fly out of your arms, all your hard work scattered around you as you glare up at him with a deadly look in your eyes.

“Oh…” Hyunjin smiles down at you, leaning against the wall. His brows creasing up in a fake worry, his bottom lip jutting out in a mocking pout, staining his handsome face with the pathetic expression, “Poor baby… Do you need help picking up your papers?” He asks in a high pitched voice, and you try to hold back the urge to kick him right in the balls.

“Don’t fuck with me, Hyunjin,” you growl out darkly, and Hyunjin’s eyes widen and his fake, bitter smile widens in a pathetic imitation of shock and hurt, “Or I’ll tear your stupid hair out of your head.” You shamelessly threaten, both of you knowing you’re probably not going to even try to rip Hyunjin’s gorgeous hair for his scalp.

Hyunjin gets up off of the wall and walks over to you, you sitting on your ass with a glare that could spew daggers, and he crouches in front of you. His elbows on his knees, and he peers down at you like a predator stalking over its prey, ready to pounce at any second. He scans you, his half lidded, judgemental eyes peering over your body, heavily hidden by your black leggings and dark blue hoodie that was two sizes too big.

“I’d like to see you try, princess,” Hyunjin cocks a brow at you, his eyes finally landing on your dark ones.

“Don’t call me that, dickhead,” you spit right back, but he only chuckles darkly, his head falling briefly before he lifts his head up again. Shaking it slightly as he critically smiles at you, his mocking laugh making you feel small and weak.

“That’s a no - can - do. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, alright? Princess?” Hyunjin’s face dips down, nearing yours. You do the first thing you think of, grabbing a handful of papers, wrinkling them and throwing them with full force at Hyunjin’s face. He flinches back and stands up, swatting away the papers quickly. “Fucking hell! You scared me for a second there.”

“Good, now piss off. I have places to be. And shouldn’t you be in class?” You grumble as you collect the papers, trying your best to get them as organized as possible in your arms, making sure to keep a tight grip on them in case Hyunjin tried to do anything.

“Aw, do you suddenly care for me?” He places a hand over his chest, sighing dramatically, “I’m touched.”

“In your dreams, dipshit. Leave me alone,” you snap out, already getting a headache from this as you walk around on your knees to try and collect the papers, cursing to yourself when you find a wrinkled one, trying to smooth it out. Hyunjin watches you with a stoic expression, leaning against the wall. You don’t even bother saying another thing to him before you gather up the last of the papers and dash away, trying to organize the papers best you could before you reach your class.

Thankfully, Hyunjin didn’t follow you like he usually did. You let out a breath of air you didn’t know you were holding as you neared the classroom, your hands moving quickly to organise the papers. You open the door, somewhat out of breath as you hand them to the professor. Letting her know that you dropped them on your way here and they got a bit disorganized, but you tried your best to organize them again. She dismissed you and thanked you, sending you back to your seat to pack up (since it’s the end of the class, which is why you were hurrying).

Thankfully, your last class period is a study hall, so you take this time to run down to the library to work on assignments that are due soon. You prefer the library since it’s a calm and quiet place, and you know the librarian quite well, since you’re usually there during study hall. If you’re not there, you’re somewhere with a friend, and that’s usually not in the comfort of the library since you get pretty loud and unfiltered when you’re with friends. So, in the end, you’ll get booted out by the librarian.

When you get there, there’s already quite a few students sitting around, listening to music and typing vigorously on their laptops. You bow briefly to the librarian, who gives you a warm smile before you take a seat at a table in the corner of the library, far from the others. You take out your laptop and phone, plugging your earbuds into the earphone jack in your phone to play music into your ears.

You spend a good fifteen minutes writing an essay for your English Literature class. Focused in on the task at hand while soft lofi flows into your ears, letting your mind relax, but focus on what you’re doing.

So, it’s totally normal that you let out a short scream when your earbuds are painfully ripped out of your ears, your hands flying up to cup your ears. People glare at you, but turn back when they see who’s looming over your desk. Your earbuds and phone in his hand, and you could faintly hear the sound of the lofi that once calmed your mind. He stood there with a proud smile, and he raised a finger to his lips.

“Shh… quiet in the library,” Hyunjin says just above a whisper, and your lip twitches from holding back from strangling him in front of everyone. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? He’s always made a note to let you know how annoying you can be or how much he hates you, so why doesn’t he just leave you alone? He knows how much he upsets you, but it seems to make him happy. He already wears a stupid smile all the time. You’ve seen him upset before, plenty of times. But when he’s teasing you or doing things to make you miserable, he wears that same devilish smirk.

“I… Fuck you, Hwang Hyunjin. Give me my phone back.” You stand up, reaching for the phone, but his hand yanks back away from you. Giving you a sarcastic smile as he looks down at you.

“Beg for it,” Hyunjin giggles darkly. Looking at something on your phone and even pressing a few buttons. Your eyes widen.

“Fuck no, just give it back!” You whisper - yell, reaching for it again, leaning over the table to grab for it.

Hyunjin shakes his head, “I said to beg for it…~” he sings - songs in a hushed tone, and your hands tense, his neck lookingly plenty good to just strangle. You don’t say anything, and you fold your arms over your chest. Raising a brow at you. “You think that’s gonna change my mind, hon? I still want you to beg for it.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn, it’s annoying,” you grumble, and shut your laptop close and push it into your backpack. You start walking out, shoving past Hyunjin and fighting against frustrated tears. You don’t even bother to bow to the librarian as you walk out, on fist gripping the sleeve of your backpack and the other clenched tightly at your side.

You walk out of the library, into the court of the university. There’s not many people there, since it’s the last class period of the day and everyone was getting ready to go home for the weekend. You stood underneath a tree, and turned, cocking a brow at Hyunjin who followed behind you slowly. You frown at him, and his brow raises.

“So? You’re gonna get ‘em or no? You know I’m not giving them if you just frown at me, (Y/N),” Hyunjin smiles snarkily, and you visibly roll your eyes at him. You sigh softly.

“Hyunjin. Give them to me. I’m being serious, now, no fuckin’ around,” You hold your hand out, finally speaking in a normal, harsh tone now that you’re out of the library.

“Hm… Nah. You still have to beg for it like a bitch. Or else they’re mine,” Hyunjin gives you a pitifully fake smile, and your eyes close, trying to ease the rising rage inside you.

“Hyunjin. I’m not begging for it,” You take a step closer to him, but he doesn’t back down. Your headphones still clutch in his hand as he holds them away from you. When Hyunjin doesn’t respond, you finally act. Dropping your backpack and letting it slip off your shoulder and onto the grass, propping itself against the tree. Hyunjin’s smile finally drops when you grip his wrist, pulling it towards you harshly. But, on instinct, Hyunjin pulls himself away, pulling you towards him.

So, you push him down onto the grass, not caring for onlookers as you straddle Hyunjin’s waist before he could even try getting up. One of your hands reaches up to press against his chest, but Hyunjin doesn’t struggle. Not one bit. In fact, he doesn’t even smirk anymore. He’s just staring at you as you reach for his hand.

“(Y/N),” Hyunjin’s dark voice pipes up, and you shoot him a glare.

“Shut up,” you snap, and you pry open his fingers, which was much easier than you though. His hands are hot and sweaty, and you almost laugh at it. Is he nervous that you’re straddling him let alone touching him in the first place? You will admit, it’s an intimate position, but you only got on top of him like that to prevent him from moving so you could grab your earbuds and phone out of his hands and stuff them into your pocket.

You smirk down at him, your hair falling past your face. It feels good to be the one in control, and now that Hyunjin’s vulnerable, you utter out, “And you almost got me to beg. Boohoo. Better luck next time, dipshit.” You finally get off of him, and the moment you’re off of him, he gets up and dusts himself off.

“(Y/N),” He calls out your name as he watches you grab your backpack.

“Shut up and don’t talk to me,” You snap, and Hyunjin’s lip clamp shut. He looks conflicted, and you would feel bad if it weren’t Hyunjin. The same Hwang Hyunjin who’s decided to make your every day a living headache.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch me like that again,” Hyunjin’s hand snatches your wrist, but you pull yourself away swiftly, “If you do that ever, and I mean ever again, I will not hesitate to stuff your face in the dirt.” Hyunjin gets dangerously close to you, and you back away. You’re brows creasing. Sure, Hyunjin is a huge dick to you, but he’s not this much of a dick. So, it took you by surprise, but you felt proud. It’s obvious that forcing Hyunjin into such a vulnerable position both mentally and physically set him off, and you were proud of yourself for that. He’s always been the one trapping you, making you feel small and tugging at your strings of patience, and sometimes your heartstrings, too.

“Oh, fuck off, Hyunjin.” You groan out, your hands falling to your side as you sling your backpack over your shoulder, “You do that shit to me all the time. What’s it if I do it to you?”

“Just don’t do it a - fuckin’ - gain, (Y/N). Don’t, unless you don’t wanna walk straight the next day.” Hyunjin threatens, and your brows furrow.

“And what the fuck does that mean?” You scoff as Hyunjin shakes his head, turning to walk away. “Hyunjin!” You yell after him, but he thrusts up his hand, his slim middle finger in your direction. You scoff, surprised by such behavior from a guy like him, who’s usually the one doing the teasing instead of the flipping off.

You try your best to ignore him and head back to the dorm to your shared one with your friend. You were able to settle down for a bit, especially since your roommate wasn’t there yet. You finished up your work. Working on assignments that you couldn’t get to finish because of a certain someone who decided to snag your phone.

Speaking of your phone, about two hours after you get back to the dorm, your friend comes walking in.

“Hey Yeona,” You pipe up, acknowledging her presence as she peels off her flats from her feet. Yeona waves briefly before plopping on her bed.

“Hey (Y/N). How was it going today?”

“Terrible.” You admit, Hyunjin being the only thing coursing through your head.

“Terrible? Lemme guess,” Yeona sits up, glaring at you, “it’s that one Hwang guy you keep ranting about?” You nod slowly, “Ah. Well, sorry about that. Actually, that reminds me. Someone was asking for you. A boy… A really, really cute boy.”

“Oh? Who?” Your brow raises.

Yeona shrugs, “No clue. Couldn’t catch his name; he seemed like he was in a rush. He wants you to meet him in the old art room. The one they use for storage, you know? He said to take your time, but he seemed desperate as hell.”

“The old art room? Don’t people go there to fuck because the camera’s are busted at the school’s too lazy to replace ‘em?” your brow raises, a bitter smile etching your lip.

“That’s the one. Hey, you might get some dick tonight. At least he’s cute,” she wiggles her brows, and you laugh. “Go one. Call me if anything happens.”

“Yes, ma’am,” You jokingly salute, and Yeona does it right back. You stuff your phone in your back pocket, and give her a playful smile before you leave.

The old art room is at the very core of the school, and you know exactly where it is. Everybody does. It’s not exactly something that just goes unnoticed by the students. Since it’s old, the camera’s are very much out of date and therefore can’t hook up to the ‘new and improved’ security system. Usually people snuck there to fuck during passing hall, since no teacher went in there. Only special people on special occasions use it for storage.

You were somewhat excited. You still have your v - card, whether you like it or not. You originally planned to save it for someone special. But, at this point, you’re too stressed to care about who’s taking your virginity and who’s not. At this point, you’d get on your knees for anyone willing.

Except for Hwang Hyunjin. Of fucking course. You know so many people who would literally beg to be fucked by none other than Hwang Hyunjin. You were not one of those people. You weren’t one of Hyunjin’s toys, even though he treated you like one. You would never let him get to your head, though. You know that you shouldn’t listen to Hyunjin even if your life depended on it. He might mean those things, those vulgar things he says to you, but you choose not to believe them.

You were trembling by the time we were standing in front of the old art room. The rusty door is slightly ajar, signifying that someone’s inside. Of course there is, but it’s still weird that they didn’t shut the door in case any teacher got concerned and checked in. Whoever’s inside must be stupid, but you’re not one to ghost someone like that, especially if Yeona said that they seemed desperate. Someone desperate for you? You had no clue who. No one ever stared at you in class. No one ever teased you. Tried to constantly get your attention.

Actually, that’s a lie. That’s a bitter lie.

Hwang Hyunjin fit into every aspect of someone who’d be desperate for your attention. That’s when it hit you that Hyunjin’s only trying to gain your attention in the worst way.

And, he did. Because he’s standing right in front of you.

You turned to leave, but Hyunjin’s hand slammed against the closed door, making you flinch at the close proximity between the two of you, and you turned to look at Hyunjin. He’s not smiling like he usually is when he first sees you. In fact, you can’t tell what expression laces his godly face.

“Hyunjin? Was it you that told my friend to bring me here?” You ask, not so much a harsh tone, but trying to make things clear despite the answer being (literally) right in front of your face. There’s no one else in the old art room but empty boxes, old art tables and storage boxes littered here and there. “This isn’t funny, Hyunjin. I’m leaving.” You turn back around to grip the doorknob, but Hyunjin’s warm, shaking hand grips your wrist firmly, yet oddly gently.

“Don’t,” he utters out. His voice was strangely small. Nimble, even. Weak. “Don’t go. I need to talk to you.”

“Since when do you wanna talk to me?” You snap, and Hyunjin dodges your intense glare. His confidence seeps to be depleting by the minute.

“I just need to. I need to get things figured out,” Hyunjin grumbles out, letting go of your wrist. He steps away from you and sits on one of the old art tables, manspreading, stretching the tight fabric of his jeans.

“Get what figured out? Tell me,” you demand, now stepping away from the door and sitting across from Hyunjin on another table. Before Hyunjin could speak, though, you raise a hand, a thought coming to mind, “Wait, no. Why did you not just come to my dorm like a normal person? Why the art room? Do you know how many people have fucked in here, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, sighing softly, “Yes, I do. It’s just the only place we could truly be alone.”

“Wait… you’re not gonna do what I think you're gonna do, right?” You back up, reaching for your phone.

Hyunjin shakes his head, “No, I’m not. I’m not a stupid sixteen year old anymore, (Y/N). And neither are you.” You sigh, relaxing, “I’m just going to get straight to the point. I can’t take this anymore, (Y/N). I’m so lost without you.”

Your eyes snap up to meet his, looking for any sign of mischief or joke in his eyes. But, no. Instead, they’re genuine. Your brows furrow, confusion crashing over you.

“I don’t want to live with the thought that I make every day for you living hell,” Hyunjin looks away, ashamed.

“Then why do you taunt me in the first place?” You nearly yell, and Hyunjin’s eyes flicker closed. You get off of the table, standing in front of him, “Why do you work so hard to just get me pissed off for the rest of the day, huh? Why do you want my attention so bad? Why can’t you just leave me alone, then, if you don’t want to make my college life a living hell, huh?”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

So blunt. So stoic. So true.

You’re silenced by his words, shock overcoming you. Overwhelmingly dominating your anger as your eyes widen slowly. He doesn’t break eye contact, this time. He doesn’t bother looking away. He’s standing his ground. He’s telling the truth.

You shake your head, “No your not.”

“You don’t decide that,” Hyunjin says almost directly after your voice drifts off.

“You can’t be in love with me, Hyunjin. You can’t,” You shake your head, backing away.

“It’s not my fault!” Hyunjin finally raises his voice, getting off of the table and taking an intimidating step towards you. Making you falter and scramble back, your lower back hitting the old art table. “I can’t help it. I can’t help, (Y/N). I’ve tried everything. I’ve been with so many girls, even guys. Trying to get out of my mind but nothing, nothing works. It’s always been you. Ever since high school.”

“Even when you were dating her…?”

“Even when I was dating her. The only reason I dated your fucking friend was to try and get close to you,” Hyunjin admits, and your mouth falls open. You lost a friend just because he wanted to get close to you? Your anger was slowly gaining back it’s superiority over your shock, “I tried to talk to you, but every time I did it just came out as mean. You viewed me as a fuckboy, and I fulfilled that role. Only to try and get you out of my fucking head.” He spits out through gritted teeth. “I’ve tried to make myself hate you, despise you. And, don’t get me wrong, hon, a small part of me hates you’re short, annoying ass. But everything else is incomplete without you.”

“Why didn’t you just confront me? If you didn’t decide to date my friend then we wouldn’t be here right now!” You yell, pressing a finger to his chest.

“I was sixteen, (Y/N)! Sixteen. Everything that I did ended in my misfortune,” Hyunjin yells right back.

“And was that my fault? Huh?”

“Yes! It is! Yes, it fuckin’ is!”

“How in the fuck is it ever my fault with you?!” You shove him away.

“Because it was. All. For. You. Get that through your thick fucking skull!” Hyunjin yells so loudly, so aggressively that it brought you to tears. But, you didn’t show any sign of fear. You weren’t backing down from this.

After his yelling, things quieted. You’re too nervous to talk, afraid your voice would pathetically crack from the painful lump growing in your throat. Hyunjin stared at you, as if waiting for you to say something, anything. But, you couldn’t utter a word. Only a few pathetic tears slipping from your eyes. His brows crease up when he watches the quick, warm tears fall over your cheek and down your neck. His bottom lip becomes trapped between his teeth, and he looks down for a bit.

You’re tired of the silence. You simply can’t take it anymore. It’s driving you mad how tense and uncomfortable the silence between you and Hyunjin is.

“Hyunjin, I-“

You’re not able to finish before a pair of soft lips press themselves to yours. Your mind goes blank, and your body stiffens as you stare into Hyunjin’s closed eyes. Your hands gripping the table behind you for balance as Hyunjin’s trembling hands creep up to grip your face. He’s kissing you.

Hwang fucking Hyunjin is kissing you.

That’s a first.

You want to push him away, but no matter how much you tell yourself to, you only relax more and more. The feeling of his lips against yours was supposed to repulse you, give you the push you need to slam a fist into Hyunjin’s face. But, with how delicately he kisses you and how his gentle, trembling fingers caress your warm cheeks, you can’t bear even clenching your fist in the need to hurt him or to get him away from you.

You couldn’t bear to admit it, but you were slowly melting into the kiss. It was as though Hyunjin was casting some sort of spell on you. Your eyes relax. Going from a dim half - lidded until they flutter shut. Your hands let go of the table. You’re shaking, ever so slightly. Your hands guide themselves as they bring themselves up to press against Hyunjin’s collarbone. At first, you believe you’re trying to push him away. But, your own hands deceive you when they slowly trail up to run your hands through his long grown hair.

You finally let your lips move, and you finally kiss him back.

Hyunjin’s reaction to it is one to die for. His back stiffens when he feels your lips part and move with his. One of his hands moves to caress your jaw, his thumb running across the bone, his hands a bit more firm as the kiss gets passionate.

You want to hate yourself for kissing him back. For succumbing to him and letting yourself fall weak underneath him. But, you just couldn’t help yourself. Hyunjin’s lips pulled you in and didn’t seem to plan on letting you go anytime soon.

It seems like a flash when your tongue presses flush against Hyunjin’s. The feelings send your back stiff and you tightly grip his hair, as if you were going to break apart from the feeling. Hyunjin’s experienced lips guided your inexperienced ones, despite him obviously being nervous.

You try to breath through your nose like Hyunjin does when things start getting more and more intense, and Hyunjin’s hands slowly start to creep away from your face. Tongues clash, and instead of fighting for dominance over one another, you both move in sync. Your torso pressed against his as Hyunjin traps you in between him and the table.

One of Hyunjin’s hands falls down your arm, gently caressing your side before picking up your thigh to push you to sit on the table. He pushes you back.

“Hyunjin - ah… We can’t…” You mumble out breathily as he kisses the sides of your lips. His lips instantly connect back with yours.

“And here… I thought… you were standing so strong and proud,” Hyunjin chuckles darkly, whispering out the words in between wet kisses. His usual self coming back, and your brows furrow. “But… no. You’re letting me… do this… without fight.”

Your head cranes back as Hyunjin’s lips drag down to your neck. Licking wet strips up and down your neck, suckling on the sensitive skin and pressing wet, sloppy kisses to your skin. You bite back a moan.

“You said you wouldn’t do anything…” You whimper out, and Hyunjin chuckles against your neck.

“Maybe, but you’ve passed the point of no return when you kissed back. And here I thought you’d punch me in the face,” Hyunjin laughs against your skin, moving you so your legs are spread for him to press more and more against you.

“Maybe I should’ve,” you whisper out in one breath.

“Mmh, but you know you like it, baby,” Hyunjin smirks.

“What happened to you wanting to talk?” You breath out, your breath moans getting louder, and you bite your lip to hold your voice back.

“You ruined it,” Hyunjin grumbles, nibbling on your skin briefly.

“Fuck you…” you grumble, your arms wrapping around his neck unconsciously.

“Already, hmm? Impatient, are we?”

“Fuck off…!” You groan at his dumb joke, and Hyunjin laughs against you. “But… seriously, Hyunjin… Wait… I’m still a virgin.”

Hyunjin’s head snaps up, his brows furrowed. “You’re a what, again?”

“A virgin, dumbass.”

“Are you saying you want to have sex-..”

“Hyunjin! Don’t take this so lightly. I’ve never done it with anyone before, and I definitely wasn’t planning on someone like you being my first,” you admit, and Hyunjin cocks a brow at you.

“You’ll regret those words. I’ll make sure this is a night for you to remember,” Hyunjin snaps, his words dark, and you swallow. “But, I need you to let me know that you want me, too.”

“Goddamn it, Hyunjin,” you groan, and your hand grips a lock of his hair, pulling his back so he can look clearly at you, “I want you to fuck me, Hyun - ah…”

A smirk creeps up on his lips, and you watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows his spit, and you let go of his hair, and his head dives back into your neck. Not exactly going back to kissing you, but resting his lips there. He mumbles out, “I never thought I’d hear those words come out of your pretty mouth.” And neither did you. You tried to deny it, telling yourself that it’s a spur of the moment idea. But, right now, again, you can’t push Hyunjin away. Your body won't let you.

Fuck it, your mind screams, and you let your legs wrap around Hyunjin’s waist. His hands find themselves caressing your thighs, your waist and back as his lips start moving again over your neck. The sensation sending constant chills up and down your spine, causing your back to stiffen and arch at the new feeling erupting in your core. You’ve masturbated before, that’s not the issue. But, being in the control of somebody gave you a whole new stimulation with even having to be touched too much. A new spark of intensity.

Hyunjin’s hands are rough, yet cautious. Trying not to go too far, but obviously trying not to pull away himself.

He eventually pushed your shoulders lightly, but with enough force to push your back flat against the old art table. He’s still standing, but he’s leaning over you, his hands on either side of your head and his pelvis nearly pressed against yours, standing in between your legs.

His warm hands move slowly underneath your shirt. Your back lifts at the feeling of his hands meeting your untouched skin, and you let out a hoarse breath as Hyunjin sucks on the skin below your jaw. Your head tilting to the side to give him the access he needed. Your neck craning, and your eyes flutter shut from the bliss. Your lips parting in a silent moan. Too embarrassed to actually make too much noise. Hyunjin’s hands move up the sides of your bare waist, carrying your shirt and hoodie with it. He parts from your neck to look up at you, his hands coming to a sudden halt.

You only glare over to him before you take your shirt and hoodie yourself, peeling it quickly off and over your head and tossing them to the side, trying to make it onto another table, but it landed on the floor. You could care less. Hyunjin’s eyes immediately dart down to stare at your semi - exposed torso. You bite your bottom as Hyunjin’s hand eases up, poking at the wire of your cherry pink bra. “Pink? Cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble out, and Hyunjin’s eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“Hmm, that’s not gonna happen and you know that.” Hyunjin winks at you, and you roll your eyes before your head falls back again. Hyunjin’s wet lips come back to your neck, but this time, he starts pressing slow, wet kisses down your neck. Over your collarbone and chest before over the bump of your breasts. You watch him with nervous eyes as Hyunjin presses wet kisses over the skin of your breasts. The feeling of the sensitive, untouched skin being no longer untouched is euphoric. However, he doesn’t take off your bra, most likely since you’re in the old art room and being completely nude would be a bit too overbearing and overwhelming for both of your likings.

You thought Hyunjin was going to stop there, but no. He kept on kissing down, now going over your stomach. Your heartbeat got louder and louder as he kept going down. His warm mouth pressing warm kisses to you before moving down, the area before being shadowed by the cold air.

Your breath got caught in your throat when Hyunjin’s fingers loop around the loose hem of your jeans. His eyes darting up to look at you briefly. But, this time, he doesn’t wait for you to take them off. One finger undoes the first button before he swiftly moves out of the way to pull them down. Your legs try to clamp shut, but Hyunjin’s knee jerks up, stopping them from closing. Your panties don’t match your bra, since they’re black and not as fancy. However, Hyunjin doesn’t seem to care at all.

Your pink face watches as Hyunjin tosses your jeans to the side, with the rest of your clothes.

“Hyunjin - ah…” You utter out, and Hyunjin’s eyes flicker up to meet yours, one brow raising in question.

“I’m going to eat you out,” Hyunjin gives you a sarcastic smile, and you don’t have the willpower to roll your eyes. Your pussy is already sopping wet, and you hold back the urge to throw yourself on top of him. You’re not surprised by how blunt he is, but it’s still nerve wracking for you. “Don’t be scared. You’ll be perfectly fine.” He reassures, and you know you’re fine. That you’re safe, but, as said before, you were so nervous.

You watch as Hyunjin dips between your legs, getting on his knees on the floor, perfectly level with you. He looks from your wet panties to you for a moment before he presses a firm kiss to your clothed cunt. Your hips jut up from the sensitivity of it, your legs trying to clamp shut, but Hyunjin’s hand is quicker. His hand flush against your thigh. He smirks against you, pressing another feather light kiss to your clothes pussy once more before he licks up it, firmly pressing his tongue against you, sending your hand to your mouth to hide your choked moans.

However, Hyunjin’s hand flies up to pull your arm down, grumbling out, “Don’t be fucking quiet this time, (Y/N).”

“We’re in a fucking classroom, Hyunjin, I have to be!” You let out a throaty groan as Hyunjin licks another long, slow strip over your panties.

“All the teachers are gone. God, relax,” Hyunjin laughs bitterly, and you shoot him a confused look.

“You planned this didn’t you?” You snarl, propping yourself, and Hyunjin cocks a brow, his long fingers hooking around the hem of your pantines. You tried to close your legs, but they’re blocked by Hyunjin’s hands. Hyunjin only shoots you glare before pulling down your panties, and you gasp when your sopping pussy meets the cold air of the old art room.

“Ha,” Hyunjin scoffs, one of his fingers moving up to grace itself over the smooth, all too stimulative and sensitive skin around you, making your hips jutter, “No matter how mad you try to make yourself, you’re still dripping wet like a bitch in heat. Didn’t know I turned you on so much, sweetheart.”

“I’ll kill you,” you snap, but your hand goes to grip the edge of the table.

“You’ll love me after this,” Hyunjin winks at you again.

“I doubt it,” you backfire, and Hyunjin’s brow raises. A challenging smile on his face as his lips near your throbbing womanhood. So close, you could feel his breath fanning you. Hyunjin holds eye contact with you as his lips make contact with your warm, wet cunt. Your head falls back when you feel Hyunjin’s tongue against your clit. You let out a breathy moan and your hand flies down to tug at Hyunjin’s hair.

Hyunjin doesn’t go slow. He’s already teasing your hole with his middle finger as he licks and suckes around your pussy. His lips and tongue working wonders no toy you’ve ever owned ever could. The explicit sounds he makes turn you on even more, his eyes fluttering shut to focus on his mouth’s movement more than your face, which is tilted back. Your back arches from the pleasure, and you let out delicate moans as Hyunjin’s lips satisfy your throbbing pussy, giving it the attention it’s been craving.

Hyunjin slowly eases one finger into you, and your hips buck onto it. Hyunjin chuckles against you at your movement and raises a hand to press against your gut, pushing you down and holding you there as he lapped up your flowing juices while his finger inserts inside you. His knuckles soon flush against you, slowly twisting his hand inside you as you push yourself against him. Chills running through your body as Hyunjin’s tongue presses against your sensitive clit.

“Oh, god, Hyunjin…!” You moan out when he presses another finger into you. Your eyes squeezing shut as your trembling hands grip Hyunjin’s hair, your legs resting over his shoulders as he begins to thrust his fingers into you at a decently fast pace. His long fingers penetrate your tight, virgin hole. Pumping them in and out quickly, and you clench around him.

Your hands that grip Hyunjin’s hair pulls him further towards you, trying to get more and more of his tongue on you. Your hips grinding down on his fingers as your mind fogs from the pleasure. Now, you don’t care that it’s Hwang Hyunjin, you’re just loving the pleasure he’s providing you. You neck cranes, almost as if trying to pull away from how sensitive you were and how Hyunjin was abusing that.

However, when he enters a third finger, stretching you out, you feel your orgasm nearing. You clench around his fingers, your moans getting louder. Now, the thought of a teacher overhearing your explicit moans clearing from your head, your mind relaxing on the thought. All you can think of is how high you’re getting from the pleasure.

“Hyunjin… Hyunjin, I’m gonna cum soon… Hyunjin - ah, mmh,” one hand reaching up, the back of your hand pressing against your lips. Hyunjin doesn’t slow down. His hands move faster, and his mouth sucks at your clit. Your back begins to arch, your climax dangerously close.

But, it doesn’t come.

Hyunjin’s hands pull out of your pussy and he stands up when your back twitches, about to throw itself up when your climax hits. You look at Hyunjin with wide, glossy eyes. Sweat dripping down your forehead. Your legs twitch from the lost orgasm.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin?” You snap, and Hyunjin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, giving you a raised brow and a smirk.

“You don’t get to cum, yet,” Hyunjin climbs over you again, trapping you down underneath his arms as he pushes himself in between your legs, and you could feel how hard he was just by a small brush of his bulge against your thigh. “Now, be good for me and take my cock like a good slut.” Your back stiffens from the vulgar slur, but it only makes your oversensitive pussy even wetter.

Hyunjin is quick when he lets his pants drop down with his boxers, and his dick springs free. His achingly red cock pressing against his stomach. As you look from his cock to his eyes, you feel waves of fear spring over you. However, Hyunjin’s soft touch on your face calms your nerves. His other hand pumps his member a few times before the tip it teases against your folds.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet,” Hyunjin groans, and you don’t answer, watching as Hyunjin slowly pushes himself into you, raw. Your head falls from the feeling, and Hyunjin’s mouth falls open, letting out a breathy groan as he eased himself into you. Your throbbing womanhood getting used to such a feeling. Once his pelvis bone is pressed against your ass, he stays there like that for a moment, and you get used to his size.

After a few moments of the sounds of both of your loud breaths, Hyunjin’s face nears yours, and your eyes flicker open to stare into his dark eyes. “I’m gonna start movin’, (Y/N),” he warns, and you nod.

“Please…” You grumble, and Hyunjin’s lip rises in a smirk.

“Please?”

“Move… Fuck me hard, Hyunjinnie. I can’t take it anymore. It’s about time you stopped fucking teasing me, huh?” You growl out, irritated.

Hyunjin’s smirk drops to a frown, and his hand grips your cheeks harshly, “Watch your tone with me, (Y/N). You can be so fucking proud, and that’s one of the reasons I wanna hate you. But, you’re too irresistable not to fuck until you’re screaming my name and begging for more.” And, after that, he ever so slowly pulls out of you before ramming himself back into you. So harshly and aggressively, it moves the whole table enough to where it creaks on it’s old legs. You let out a loud, inevitable moan that forces its way out of your lips.

Hyunjin does that a few times, and he throws his head back because of the pleasure. His face drowned in lust, and you clung to the table. A new burning sensation in your core as Hyunjin’s dick rams into your pure walls, deriving them from their innocence. You’re heat clenches around him as he pulls himself in and out of you. Slowly driving himself out before ramming into you.

But, he doesn’t do that for long when he starts to find a fast rhythm. One hand gripping your thigh while the other holds himself up on the table. He’ll sometimes let out breathy grunts or groans, but you’re on the verge of screaming out from how fast he was going. His cock burning your walls, sending a new sensation through you. It’s painful, but you’re loving it so much. You’re loving the burn, the penetration, everything.

Your eyes are closed, pure ecstasy running through you as your hands move up to wrap your arms around Hyunjin’s neck, pulling him close to you and into a kiss. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back. Both of your mouths open to crash your tongues together in bliss as your legs wrap around Hyunjin loosely. His hips stay consistent, but your hips twitch and stutter. Your back stiffening and twitching, pressing tight against Hyunjin’s clothed torso as he kisses you. One of his hands guiding up to harshly caress your cheek, jaw and neck. His long fingers tugging lightly at your hair as your hands screwed with Hyunjin’s hair. Running through it, gripping it, even tugging it sometimes.

“Oh my fucking god, (Y/N),” He moans against your lips, moving away to rest his lips against your neck as he groans, his hips stuttering slightly, throwing him off his rhythm, “You’re pussy’s so fuckin’ good. Feels so fuckin’ good.” You moan out in response, too lost in desire, lust and euphoric, blissful pleasure to form something as simple as a response. Your mind so blank, nothing running through your mind other than how Hyunjin’s cock makes your pussy feel so fucking good. How he makes you feel so fucking good. The way it’s overstimulated and edged on, it’s almost overwhelming to the point you want to cry from the stimulation.

You begin to moan, nearly screaming out Hyunjin’s name as you feel your climax nearing, clenching helplessly around his cock. “Hyunjin… Hyunjin! Oh, fuck, Hyunjin - ah, I’m gonna cum! Please, oh god, please, I wanna cum so… ah! - so fuckin’ bad…” Your words are slurred, but enough for Hyunjin to make out.

“Mmh… Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock, baby girl,” your back arches, flush against Hyunjin’s body as your gut erupts with a new feeling. Your neck cranes as your eyes open, rolling into the back of your head as your mouth opens in a silent scream. Cumming all over Hyunjin’s cock as he stops his thrusts, deep inside you to let you cum. Your mind hazing as you let out a string of high - pitched moans. Your body twitches and your knuckles turn white from gripping Hyunjin’s tee shirt.

Once you’re halfway through your climax, nearing the part where your whole body relaxes, Hyunjin quickly pulls out. Getting up from you, and your arms drop to your side as you breath heavily, coming down from your high. Hyunjin pumps his cock fast in his hands. Not slowing down whatsoever as his eyes squeeze shut. You watch his face as his mouth opens, moaning loudly as he cums over your stomach.

Once he is down from his climax, he breathes heavily. Sweat dripping down the side of his forehead. Your head falls back, your eyes closing as exhaustion then waves over your body. Catching your breath.

You didn’t even notice Hyunjin leaving shortly to grab an old cup from the counter and fill it with water before coming back. Dipping his fingers in the water to wipe his cum off of you. You jump at the sensation, but relax when you see Hyunjin’s distant, wistful smile. You watch as he wipes it off, making sure it’s clean before dumping the cup in the sink. Your heart quickens as Hyunjin puts on his clothes before he walks over to grab your clothes and silently help you put them on. He doesn’t really make eye contact with you, but it’s a comfortable silence. The first ever comfortable silence you’ve had with him.

It’s then, as he helped wipe you clean, dress you and make sure you were already by wiping the sweat off of your face with the back of his hand that Hyunjin wasn’t who you thought he was. Everything’s not as it seems. The way he smiles so adoringly at you as he brushes the back of his hand against your cheekbone ever so lovingly makes you feel conflicted with feelings.

At some point, Hyunjin lays down next to you on the art table. It’s quiet for a few minutes, both of your just staring at the ceiling, shoulders and legs touching.

“I’m in love with you, (Y/N).” He whispers, and you finally look over to him. He wears a delicate smile, and a tear trickles down the side of his face, “I really shouldn’t. I really don’t know why, but I do.” His voice cracks at the end of his sentence, and you swear your heart shattered right there. “I… I shouldn’t have had sex with you. It’s only making everything worse for me. It’s making everything hurt so much more.”

He sits up, wiping his face, turning his back from you. He sniffs softly, letting out sharp breaths as his back trembled from his hoarse breathing.

You sit up, too. Reaching over to put your hand on his shoulder, but you hesitate.

No. If Hyunjin isn’t really who you thought he was, you want, you need to get to know the real him.

So, you make up your mind.

You get off of the table to move in front of him, and he tries to move away, his hands covering his red face. You gently grip his hands, pulling them away from his face. And it’s a sight you thought you’d never have to see. His eyes are red, his face wet and pink from the tears staining his face. It’s such a pitiful look on him, and you thought you’d never, ever see him so vulnerable. He keeps him looking down, trying to pull his hands away, but you have a tight grip on them.

“Look at me, Hyunjin.” You demand in a soft, yet firm voice. Hyunjin doesn’t for a moment, and you were about to repeat yourself, but Hyunjin’s eyes lock with yours. You give him a soft sigh and smile, “Hyunjin. You’ve proved to me that you’re not the person I thought you were. And… if you’re really not the douchebag, fuckboy and absolute asshate that I know, then… then I’ll stay by your side. Alright?”

Your heart hammers against your chest as Hyunjin’s eyes widen slightly, another tear slowly dripping down his face. You let go of one of his hands to gently rub it away with your thumb. Just below his eye. Hyunjin stares at you with wide, doubtful eyes. His lips slightly ajar as his hand trembles in yours.

So, to ease the silence, you press a gentle kiss to his lips. With no tongue, it’s an innocent kiss. He doesn’t kiss back at first, but he does after a moment.

And, the rest of that night was spent in that old art room. Either talking to each other, kissing each other or holding each other that night. You learned a lot about Hyunjin. About why he likes to fuck around, why he thinks he’s in love with you and other things about his life. You also told him a lot about you, about why you didn’t feel right about him at first.

And, by the end of that night, you could easily conclude that you’re in love with Hwang Hyunjin, and that it’s possible to fall in love with someone in the span of one night after years and years of hating each other.

[sunfleurry]

I. 360˚

Hi there! I am reuploading this fic and this time I want to actually try because tbh I didn’t give af about pacing, editing, etc. as harrymoncheri

I’ve decided to scrap the original plot and make this a prompt-based project!

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy part 1 (the intro) of personal trainer!harry

Disclaimer: I write stories and use Harry Styles as a face claim. In no way shape or form does my writing reflect how I perceive the actual Harry to be. These are my characters, the face is just a bonus!

Warnings: This story will contain mature themes.

The parking lot itself was intimidating. Eden’s eyes remained wide in wonder as she took in the cars that couldn’t have been less than a couple hundred thousand dollars. When she won the year-long membership for a five-star gym through a raffle at her uni, she hadn’t thought about what to expect. From the outside, the gym looked quite small but as she walked in, the first thing that welcomed her was a set of gleaming black stairs leading to an underground facility.

Her shoes squeaked on each step down. She kept her gaze low to avoid tripping and embarrassing herself in front of the tycoons in gym gear and teenagers working out in custom name brand sneakers.

The receptionist smiled upon seeing her, his veneers a stark contrast against his brown skin. “You’re the one I just spoke with on the phone, right? Eden?”

She smiled and shook his hand. “That’s me.”

After having her sign a few papers, he led her to an office–a small room surrounded by glass walls with a view of the elevators. She soon learned that they led to lower levels housing the spa, pool and basketball courts.

While waiting for the manager to start the consultation, they sat and talked for a few minutes. Eden learned a lot about the receptionist. His name was Luca and his father owned the gym. He was a couple years older than her and studied at the same university. She was positive she’d never seen him; she would have remembered a man as beautiful as him.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” Luca said while checking the minimalist clock hung on the only wall not made of glass. “I don’t know what’s taking him so long.”

She waved a hand as if brushing him off. “Don’t apologize. I’m sure he’s somewhere around here doing what managers do best.”

“My manager isn’t in, actually. You’ll be speaking to one of our personal trainers today.”

She furrowed her eyebrows but nodded all the same. “Oh, okay.”

Luca’s face brightened as something caught his eye over Eden’s shoulder and he stood up. “Speak of the devil.”

Eden turned in her seat and her breath hitched as her eyes landed on a man whose looks, she imagined, would take over her dreams at night from that day forward. He was dangerously handsome in the simplest clothing– grey cotton joggers and a black t-shirt she noticed every personal trainer was wearing.

Her gaze trailed to his strong jaw, then up to where his chestnut hair curled around his ears in the most endearing way. When her eyes met his striking green ones, she felt heat creep up her neck at being caught blatantly ogling him.

“Eden? Did you hear what I said?”

She didn’t miss the smirk on the personal trainer’s lips as her head whipped towards Luca. “Sorry, what did you say?”

He gave her a knowing look. “I said I’m going to go back to the front. Did you need anything else?”

“Oh, um, no. Thank you for everything,” she bit her lip, fully aware of the trainer’s heavy gaze on her. It was hard concentrating on watching Luca exit the office only to pretend like the suffocating presence of the walking wet dream was fictitious.

The door closed on its own with a click that echoed in Eden’s head. The realization that she was in a closed room with the attractive man dawned on her.

“Nice to meet you, Eden. I’m Harry.” His voice was raspy and deep, the cells of her body vibrating to each syllable he uttered.

“Nice– “she cleared her throat as the word caught in her mouth. “Nice to meet you, too.”

Eden sat in front of the desk. The sky-blue cushion on the seat at first glance appeared uncomfortable, but as soon as her bum touched the fabric, she decided it was the most comfortable chair she’d ever had the pleasure of sitting on.

She started to get nervous when Harry did not say anything, only studied her face for a moment, before nodding to himself and opening one of the desk drawers to pull out a notepad and a Montblanc pen.

“First thing I’m going to ask you is: What are your fitness goals?”

Eden opened her mouth then closed it. “Umm. I guess to just get fit,” she said stupidly.

But he only nodded in encouragement. “Can you think of anything specific?”

“Build strength,” she leaned forward. “Endurance.”

He smiled, and she wanted to swoon at the dimple that appeared on his cheek. “Do you have a history with sports or fitness?”

“I used to dance,” she perked up. “Ballet.”

His face gave away that he was impressed, and she wanted to pat herself on the back. “You must be really flexible.”

She flushed. “Well, it’s been a while. I doubt it.”

“I guess we’ll have to work on your flexibility too, then.”

Her head snapped up, eyes locking with his. It was a fairly innocent statement and within context. But it was the tone he used. Subtle, but she didn’t miss it nor the mischievous glint in his eye. She gulped soundlessly and looked down at her leggings, pretending to pick at a loose thread.

He broke the silence. “Before I ask any more questions, are you okay with me training you? Or would you prefer a female?”

Eden’s lips rolled inward as she pondered his question. A part of her was dumbfounded at the fact that she even had to think about it. Of course she wanted to choose him. However, she promised herself no more distractions. She was there to get fit and take advantage of this free opportunity, not put herself out there for the second time only for it to crash and burn again.

“Female,” she said.

If she wasn’t watching him carefully, she would have missed the hint of disappointment on his face before it disappeared and was replaced by a look of understanding.

The rest of the consultation went by with Harry asking her a few more questions. She was getting much more comfortable and they both seemed to relax into conversation the more time went by. Harry finished off the meeting by taking her body measurements, BMI and fat percentage.

Eden later met Yaz, her personal trainer. She was a kind woman with long black hair just like hers, but it was straightened to perfection and didn’t seem to have a single split end. Harry had given his fellow trainer all the information he’d collected from Eden, and she did not waste time.

Eden was guided to an artificial turf where horizontal bars hung over their heads with different TRX ropes suspended from them. Yaz had her do basic exercises to assess what they needed to work on, but Eden could barely focus. While Yaz kept her eyes on Eden’s movements, Eden kept hers on the mirror reflection of the man who was walking around the weight area, greeting everyone. He seemed well-loved in this facility. The men greeted him like he was a future business partner, and the women tried maintaining his attention with flirty smiles. 

Yet, his attention was elsewhere. All he could think about was Eden’s thick waves and big brown eyes that gave away everything she was feeling. He wasn’t sure if she was aware of how easy it was to read her. The minute he walked into that office and laid eyes on her, he knew he was done for. Her red leggings and black sports bra left little to the imagination and he wasn’t complaining. He wanted to touch her, just to know what striking gold felt like.

Now, stopping in his tracks to watch her speak to Yaz, he caught her eye through the mirror and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. His grin only widened when she offered a shy smile back before giving Yaz her full attention, cheeks blooming red.

He knew then that he was fucked.

***

Part 2