#it just takes me eons to finish anything ;A;

[smol-and-trashy]

Just a Sip, Darling (Obey Me! vore fic)

A/N: Writing in 2nd person is extremely jarring tbh. I kinda wrote MC more insufferable and spicier than intended...oops. Warning: foodplay and semi-unwilling vore. Enjoy!

________________

Your eyes flash open, and you find yourself in a sea of liquid. It’s dark, tepid, and a burst of chocolate overwhelms your senses. Normally, you aren’t one to complain about an abundance of chocolate, but this was almost too much; it was as if someone kept a perfume sampler strip, topped with chocolate, under your nose and refused to move it. 

You aimlessly wade through the liquid. It isn’t very deep, but it’s still mildly uncomfortable to be constantly gasping, trying not to let yourself be pulled to the bottom by the thick chocolate.

You scramble atop the only thing floating in this sea of warm chocolate--you’re grateful it isn’t scalding, but you can’t understand why anyone would get lukewarm hot chocolate. Hot chocolate is in the very name; it should at least be above room temperature. Still, you make it on top of your makeshift raft, and once you look down, your stomach sinks. 

You’re on a cat. 

Not a real cat, of course. But the impact still hits the same. It’s a cute hot cocoa topping; the liquid isn’t hot enough to completely melt it, so the marshmallow kitty still has most of its form intact. You can’t help but feel a rush of embarrassment about the fact that you’re forced to result to using a marshmallow to stay afloat. 

Suddenly, the door opens and the vibrations send waves of cocoa toward you. Bracing yourself, you cling with all you have to the slippery marshmallow fluff as a shadow looms over your hot chocolate lake. 

The ripples finally settle, and you look up to find Satan peering down at you, quizzically. 

The demon was already tall when you weren’t bug sized, but now he’s reached impossible magnitudes. Only his face fills your vision, while the rest of his body isn’t even visible past your limited line of view. 

“Is that you, MC?” His voice booms over you, and you resist the urge to cover your ears--not wanting to lose your grip and slip back into the liquid. 

“Y’know me, just taking a bath, normal human behavior and all. After all, hot chocolate happens to be great for the skin.” Considering the circumstances, the words slip out of your mouth with surprising ease.

 He blinks and you sigh, your quip wasn’t exactly lost on him, but he was likely one of the last demon brothers to play along with your terrible jokes. 

“No, Satan, I’m not okay. I’m literally the size of your thumb. What part of that is normal?”

 Satan quirks a brow. “So, you’re in there because...” He trails off, expecting some sort of explanation out of you, but unfortunately, you find yourself fresh out of those. Instead, you gesture with one hand to your edible raft for the demon to fill in the gaps himself. 

He doesn’t. 

You roll your eyes and push yourself a little further up on the marshmallow, so half your body isn’t sinking into the cocoa. It’s going to be a pain to get these stains out. You halfheartedly think to yourself as you look back up at Satan, who is still waiting for your explanation. 

“You know, just wanted to try a new experience and all.” 

He doesn’t laugh. His face isn’t completely stoic, though. Thoughts tinker behind those green-blue eyes, unwilling to spare even a glimpse. You sigh, figuring Beel or Mammon would have quite the opposite reaction if they found you instead.

A small grin paints his lips. “You are quite cute like this, MC, but how did you get so small? The only instances I’ve read about humans shifting sizes have unfortunately been constrained to the realm of fiction.” You can sense the underlying concern dripping off his words, and you sigh; your answer will only make him more concerned. 

“Don’t remember.”  

“What?” 

“Yeah. One moment, I was studying up on Devildom history and the next, floating in a sea of hot chocolate.” 

He frowns a bit. “I see,” is all he mumbles, but the faint pink dusting his cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

You open your mouth, trying to coax him to at least lift you out of your mug prison, but a strangled chortle escapes instead. You couldn’t help it! But the moment his eyes flash back down at you, regret seeps in. 

“Uh, am I going to be stuck like this?” 

“Maybe,” Satan sighs, hands draping over his eyes and he looks back at you. “If this is a shrinking curse, I’ll gather the proper ingredients to reverse it, but if it isn’t... I guess you’ll just have to be patient for now, until we figure out what to do.” He shakes his head.

You groan loudly, sinking further into your mug prison. 

“Hmph. I should’ve gotten Lucifer’s help. If only he were here to help me out instead of the ever-so-helpful Satan --- here to save the day with zero ideas and no clue; really played my gacha odds here.” You murmur under your breath, but it sounds loud enough to Satan’s sensitive ears. 

“Really now?” Satan leans closer to the cup. “Well, if you think so, then maybe I should make life harder for a certain someone if he can’t find you for a little while.” Satan hums, and your stomach drops. He isn’t going to do what you think he is. He wouldn’t! 

Satan plants himself on the chair, and your heart sinks to your stomach; He totally would. 

He picks up the cup and raises it to his lips. You feel a shiver of dread run down your spine as he stares down at you with a smug look. 

Oh hell no--Frantically, you try swimming away, against the current, from the lip of the mug, but it’s no use. 

Satan laughs, “Don’t worry, I would never let anything happen to you, MC.” 

Though, you’d like to beg to differ, with his green-blue eyes shining with obvious mirth. The giant blond was getting a kick out of this. “But might as well teach you a lesson about that mouth of yours, darling.” 

Before you retort, he takes a sip of the cocoa, swallowing half of it, and you, in one gulp. 

You’re pulled deeper into his throat, and it's tight and hot. You can feel the warmth of the hot chocolate as it washes around you. You struggle for a moment, trying to give him a taste of his own medicine before the thick humid heat hits you immediately as you squeeze through the sphincter and free-fall down, with the remainder of the cocoa, into his belly. 

You take a moment to grasp your surroundings. It’s not as disgusting as you would have thought. Sure, it’s sweltering and stinks to the high heavens like old spit, but noxious food odors or the acrid bite of acids are surprisingly nonexistent. Chalking it down to Satan not exactly being human, you try exploring your surroundings, but you don’t get very far.

It’s tight and dark. After a few unstable steps, you manage to reach another wall, though, in the darkness, you aren’t sure which direction you are facing in the first place.

You slump against the curved wall, and idly, your fingers trace the soft surface lined with a mucous-like substance. You find yourself strangely comfortable, soothed by the rhythmic churning of the Avatar of Wrath’s insides and the warmth of his body. An odd combination of annoyance and contentment washes over you as the darkness slowly lulls you to sleep. 

Outside, Satan flips the page of his book while a hand rests on his middle. He sighs, still experiencing nothing short of utter bliss. It was impossible not to notice MC’s subtle movements and even as they rest, their weight serves as a constant reminder of just how close they are. His eyes feel heavy and he yawns, marking his place in the book and setting his glasses down on the bedside table. 

“Rest well, MC~” He purrs, content as he flickers off the light. 

He’ll let them out in the morning, but right now, he wants to savor this moment with his little darling. 

[uwukillmenowowo]

Hello sorry if this is a bad time but I have a request, I saw that you write for Cookie run Kingdom and I was wondering if you could write a new where the reader is Elder Faerie Cookie's child, you can choose if their biological or not, but the reader is also the reincarnation of someone the beast cookies cared about, I just thought that dynamic would be interesting, but if you're not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight😊.

YO- I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING I HAD AN IDEA SIMILAR TO THIS-

You have a good day/night too!

( >︠ ω ︡<)/

Curiosity

[PLATONIC]

(Parent! Elder Fairie Cookie X Reader X Parental! Beast Cookies)

(Slight White Lily X Reader)

Notes:

Reader will be Non-binary

The story will start with how you met the beast cookies

Then it will show how they created their parental bond with Elder Fairie

For the Beasts, I made up new names for their past selves before they became corrupted.

Reader was one of the most optimistic [Flavor] cookies one would meet.

The kind to give out flowers to make cookies' day better, presenting a beautiful frosty white smile to every cookie they walked by.

Practically every cookie that passed by them was filled with joy.

Oh shit I think this is my longest post-

..... I think I forgot something here but I can't remember what it is...

It started.... one too many eons ago. During times when they weren't who they used to be.

Warning! Mentions of Death!

{Third POV}

~~~~~

[Reader] wowed at the structure before them. The library that was said to be built was finally finished. They walked into the library and awed at all the books there. However, the building was empty.

"Good afternoon young one." The young cookie flinched and turned around, to see a cookie with blue eyes and golden brown dough. But what caught the attention of the young cookie was the beautiful gem that was displayed on his collar. "H-Hello" [Reader] answered nervously. "Did you come for a specific book?" The older cookie asked. To that, [Reader] nodded.

"Excellent! What kind?" He asked. [Reader] chuckled and rubbed their arm. "Uhhh... The-Thea-tri-cal." [Reader] answered with hesitation, due to them being young and unknowledgeable. "Do you mean Theatrical? Ones about shows and plays?" The blue eyed cookie asked with a smile. [Reader] nodded excitedly, explaining that they've heard some other cookies talking about it and was curious.

"That would be this way." The librarian started to lead the way towards the children's section, searching for the "puppet shows" books. "So, what's your name little cookie? Shouldn't you be with your parents?" [Reader] laughed as they found a book they liked. "My name is [Reader] Cookie. You can call me [Reader]. Dad crumbled and mom followed after. How about you, mister?" The little cookie answered as if it was a normal thing to say aloud.

The librarian gasped and held their hand to their mouth before taking in a deep breath and sat beside [Reader]. "Oh My Witches... My name is Blueberry Milk Cookie. Feel free to call me Blueberry Milk." [Reader] smiled and nodded before they started to read. blueberry Milk Cookie gave a sad look towards [Reader]. 'They're... all alone' He thought as he turned his gaze to the book that [Reader] was holding. "How old are you? You seem to understand this book really well." He asked.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm six." It was like a punch to the gut to Blueberry Milk Cookie. "[Reader], if you need anything, you can come to me okay?" The librarian offered, wanting to help the child before him. "Okay." [Reader] responded. [Reader] and Blueberry Milk spent hours together, until [Reader] decided to leave.

After leaving the Library, [Reader] started running, only to bump into multiple cookies. "Oh- Sorry about-" "Watch it, Kid!" The young cookie went wide eyed as the older cookies glared at them. "I-I didn't mean to- I was just- AHH!" The younger cookie screamed as the older cookies grabbed them by their shirt collar.

"What's going on here?" The older cookies let go of [Reader], causing them to fall on their butt as they watched the exchange. "Strawberry Sugar Cookie!" They exclaimed happily. [Reader] scooted back in worry. After all, all they saw was pink. The owner of that pink wore a crown as well, as if they were the current King or Queen of the kingdom.

"Oh my! Who is this?" [Reader] yelped as they were suddenly picked up by the cookie they were just worried about. Pink robes, wings and a halo, but like with Blueberry Milk Cookie, what drawn [Reader] to this cookie, was the heart shaped gem that was in the crown the the cookie who picked them up. "Oh goodness! You're hurt, worry not, I have a friend who will fix your dough!" They smiled before suddenly taking flight.

"WAAHHH!" [Reader] screamed and tightly held onto the pink robed cookie. "Is everything alright?" Strawberry Sugar asked. [Reader] just shrugged and looked down, only to regret it and unconsciously nuzzle into the crook of her neck in fear. "Oh dear, not a fan of heights? What's your name?" [Reader] told her their name and Strawberry Sugar responded happily. "Well it's nice to meet you [Reader]! My name is Strawberry Sugar Cookie." [Reader] almost felt that Strawberry Sugar's happiness was infectious and smiled.

After a joyful conversation to take [Reader]'s mind off the height they were flying at, they reached a temple. A temple so grand that [Reader] has never seen anything like it. But something else, was that there was an enormous line. "So many people!" [Reader] stood close to Strawberry Sugar.

1: To not get lost

2: Everyone was too loud and [Reader] didn't like it

3: WHERE EVEN WERE THEY???

[Reader] followed Strawberry Sugar as they practically cut through the line. Of course, other people objected and tried to cut as well but the guards blocked them. Some guards tried to "protect" Strawberry Sugar by grabbing [Reader] away from them. But after Strawberry Sugar explained that you two went to visit "Her" together, they let you go.

You walked up stairs and stairs, passing halls, and beautiful depictions along stained glass. "So... Who is Her?" The small cookie asked with a tilt of their head. "Oh? I haven't told you? We're gonna fix that little wounds of yours little one. The one going to do that~" With a dramatic pause, Strawberry Sugar pulled a curtain, revealing a figure dressed in white. "Is Wheat Flour Cookie!"

"Strawberry Sugar... What have I told you about our volume in my temple?" Strawberry Sugar flinched and pouted, taking a few steps back. You awed at the white dressed cookie that was sitting before you. "G-Good afternoon Ma'am." [Reader] responded politely with a bow.

Strawberry Sugar and Wheat Flour talked about why her and [Reader] were here. Soon after, Strawberry Sugar left [Reader] alone with the healer.

"So... Enlighten me, what happened young cookie?"

{Second POV}

~~~~~

You kneeled and sat on your knees just like Wheat Flour Cookie. "Umm..." You hesitated, not knowing where to start. "How about we start from the beginning. What did you do today?" You hummed as you started recalling your day. The cookies talking about that play, meeting Blueberry Milk Cookie, reading, running into two older male cookies and getting threatened, meeting Strawberry Sugar Cookie, flying to the temple, and then right now.

Wheat Flour nodded and took your small dough hands into her own before giving some advice. Telling you to simply ignore those who wish harm upon you and that you should continue to find joy and hope in your life. Suddenly, with a white and golden glow, all the wounds you previously had were healed.

You were in awe and Wheat Flour told you to sit beside her as she tended to other cookies. You just nodded and sat beside her. Those next few hours were spent helping Wheat Flour with the other cookies.

You had fun and when you left you saw Strawberry Sugar Cookie just laying down, sleeping. You were in shock. 'Did she wait for me?' You thought and smiled before gently shaking her awake. "Oh... all done?" She asked as she rubbed her eyes. You nodded and she smiled. "Good. A little birdie told me that you met Blueberry Milk Cookie before this. Is that right?" You nodded and her eyes sparkled. "Wonderful! You know, Him, me and Wheat Flour are really good friends."

You wowed. They were friends? You had no clue. "Would you like to meet the other two?" She asked with a tilt of her head. You nodded eagerly. The cookies you've met so far were some of the nicest people you've met. You were.... happy.

Strawberry Sugar pulled you close to her before jumping and flying off one of the many cliffs. You screamed again, but instead of fear, it was in excitement. Strawberry Sugar would do cool flips and tricks with you tightly holding on. It was so much fun, just flying above Crispia.

"And here!" Strawberry Sugar said as you two landed. "It's so hot!" You sweatdropped and fanned yourself with your hand. "Ahah~! Yeah- Crushed Spice Cookie and Sea Salt Cookie like warm areas." You hummed at the explanation and you kicked your feet in the sand, not used to being so close to the water. "Heheh~ Do you like the sand?" Strawberry Sugar asked as she followed behind you.

You nodded, digging your feet into the sand before the waves suddenly washed onto the shore, splashing onto your clothes and your dough. You flinched and accidentally fell into the water and Strawberry Sugar laughed before helping you up. "Oh dear! how clumsy!" She picked you up and dusted the sand off your clothes. You chuckled as she pat you head and started leading you towards somewhere.

"So... Salt and Spice? What are they like?" You asked. Strawberry Sugar hummed in thought. "Crushed Spice is... really competitive. And Sea Salt is pretty... reserved?" Strawberry Sugar shrugged. "I haven't seen them in a while so I can't remember at the top of my head."

After a few more minutes of walking you found yourself in front of a nice house. Strawberry Sugar, noticing the look you were giving, said, "It's bigger on the inside. They both don't like cramped spaces." You asked if they lived together and she nodded, saying how those two acted like brothers.

Strawberry Sugar barged in and you followed. You felt bad for entering uninvited but it is what it is. You continued to follow Strawberry Sugar since you didn't want to get lost. Once she stopped walking, you looked in front to see two cookies with... really funny bedheads. You can't really blame them though, you left Wheat Flour's temple at dusk and Strawberry Sugar and you decided to fly the whole night. So when you got there it was only dawn.

The red one looked angry while the lavender one just looked extremely tired. The more angry one, you guess was Crushed Spice. He just walked up to Strawberry Sugar before grabbing her by her collar and dragging her. Strawberry Sugar tried protesting but then just crossed her arms and pouted.

You didn't know how to feel since you were just left alone with Sea Salt Cookie. It was silent as you two just stood there. until Sea Salt asked if you wanted a snack. You nodded and walked with the lavender cookie into the kitchen. He asked what kind of snack you wanted and you said you were fine with anything since you were a guest.

He just nodded before pouring you a bowl of cereal. You took it, thanked him and sat at the table to eat. It was comfortable silence for you two... Until you heard screaming and shouting from Strawberry Sugar and Crushed Spice. You gave a worried looked to Sea Salt but he just chuckled and told you that it's fine and that they do that all the time. You just nodded slowly, eating you food but stopping halfway once you saw Strawberry Sugar seemingly running for her dough from a flaring Crushed Spice.

As much as you were worried, you found it extremely fun.

Ever since those two days, you've been... seeing them more often.

Blueberry Milk Cookie would sit beside you when you visited the library and read to you

Strawberry Sugar Cookie would practically fly you anywhere you wanted

Wheat Flour Cookie would send you letters with different incenses... Sometimes even first aid kits...

Crushed Spice Cookie is technically your babysitter whenever Strawberry Sugar can't. At first you thought he doesn't like you but he's really soft with you... Even though he makes you do exercises with him...

Finally, Sea Salt Cookie. He's pretty chill. You two would just take naps most of the time. His room is just the right temperature to sleep forever.

The five of them acted like the parents you never had. It made you happy.

Everything went well...

Until it didn't...

That fated day their souls turned black.

You went to visit Wheat Flour Cookie because it was the anniversary you met everyone. You already gave your gifts to the others, Wheat Flour waas last because you knew how busy she was.

Now normally you'd wait in line with everyone else but today since you were just going to go in and out, you decided to use your "VIP Card" that she gave you. But others got pissed. They were jealous and confused. Why would you, a small cookie that looked like the happiest cookie they could be, want to go see Wheat Flour Cookie?

No cookie acted until a middle aged cookie did. They ran out of line and grabbed you by the shoulder. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" You just blinked twice and gave them a smile, holding up the gift you were going to give. "I'm going to give this to Wheat Flour Cookie." The smile you gave just pissed them off as they asked why you weren't going o line up. You told them the reason, that you wouldn't take a long time and that you had a VIP card.

The cookie just stared down at the card before smirking. "Say.. Can I.. Borrow that for a bit?" You were about to lend it but you remembered what Wheat Flour said. "Sorry. I would but Wheat Flour said that this was only mine. It has my name." You flipped the card, showing your name. "[Reader] Cookie..." The cookie before you glared at the card before looking back at the line. "Can I... come with you then?"

You didn't see a problem with that so you nodded. Other cookies who saw the exchange, started to run out of the line to talk with you. Until a massive group started to run over to you so that they could talk to Wheat Flour cookie before everyone else. You held the gift close to your chest and sucked in your breath as the other cookies started yelling excuses, causing the guard cookies to have trouble keeping people in line.

"My family is sick!"

"My family is poor!"

"My daughter-"

"My Son-"

"My Father-"

"My Mother-"

"My Brother-"

"My Sister-"

"Aunt!"

"Uncle!"

The excuses kept coming as you tried to get away. No cookie admitted that they wanted everything for themselves. You didn't know how to answer any of it. You didn't have the power to choose one over the other. Until finally, a cookie, desperate enough, grabbed the sword off one of the guard cookies and stabbed you from behind.

You screamed in pain, dropping the gift you brought and coughed. Chaos erupted after that. Cookies started attacking each other left and right. One of the guard cookies, picked you up before running to where Wheat Flour was.

"MY LADY!" They yelled, barging through the door. Wheat Flour, who was just waiting for the next cookie to come in, was in complete shock as she saw you looking pale and panting heavily. "W-What happened?!" She asked as the guard placed you before her. "A fight broke out in front of the temple." They explained, saluting. Wheat Flour, using her magic to look at what was happening was in shock. This has never happened before.

"Call the others. I cannot handle this myself, considering the amount of Cookies there are." The guard nodded and left, leaving you in the arms of Wheat Flour. She tried her best to heal you but it was barely effective. The wound was too deep and you lost too much. Wheat Flour started panicking. She gently patted your cheeks, trying to get you to stay awake but it wasn't working.

"No- no no no no no-! Come now- Don't- Don't do this to me-" Wheat Flour panted as tears reached her eyes. In that very moment, the others came in. "Wheat Flour! What's going ooAAAAAHHHh!" Strawberry Sugar Cookie screamed as she saw the state you were in. She raced over to where you were, already bursting into tears. "What happened?!? Who did this!!?" Strawberry Sugar took you into her arms, holding you tight, trying to see if you were still breathing.

Desperate banging and screaming could be heard on the other side of the temple doors. "We'll keep the cookies at bay! Take care of [Reader]!" Crushed Spice Cookie snarled as Blueberry Milk and Sea Salt followed.

Wheat Flour and Strawberry Sugar tried to use their magic to heal you but it barely worked. Strawberry Sugar started to hyperventilate as Wheat Flour's hand started shaking. They both saw your breathing get slower and slower until it became nonexistent... and finally... they snapped.

Outside, Blueberry Milk, Crushed Spice, and Sea Salt tried their best to not hurt any of the other cookies. But it all went out the window when they heard Strawberry Sugar's scream. They've never heard her scream like that before. But what shocked them was that she flew up, just above the temple, and used her magic to blast the cookies away, killing them.

Cookies who saw that started running off. But they weren't able to get far because Wheat Flour was there to stop them. Both girls made cookies crumble and the others didn't know what to do... When they caught sight of the temple, they caught a clear sight of your crumbled body, clearly unmoving. Blueberry Milk covered his mouth while Sea Salt gasped as his legs shook. Crushed Spice gritted his teether before all he saw was blood red. He grabbed the sword he once used against enemies and used it against his fellow cookies.

That one, anger-filled strike, caused one of Wheat Flour's mountains to split in two. With that, Blueberry Milk and Sea Salt followed, using their own powers to use against the other cookies.

After all the cookies have crumbled, the gang became enraged. They were blinded by their hatred and grief that they went all around Crispia, crumbling any cookie they saw. This went on for years...

Until the Witches caught notice. they sealed the enraged Cookies in the remote continent of Beast Yeast. Before they saw your crumbled body. They felt it all. The pain and regret you held in your heart. You were too young to experience all that.

The Witches decided to place your soul in a newly baked body before they placed you before the Fairie Kingdom. Elder Fairie cookie found and he received a prophecy from the Witches.

The Witches explained how they entrusted some of the Beast's powers to the child so that the beasts cannot reclaim their full power because they know that the Beasts wouldn't harm the child. Elder Fairie understood and took in the child as his own. Not only so that the child could help quell the beasts from destroying the Fairie Kingdom but so that he could help the child control their powers when they're older.

Years passed and [Reader] was now a teenager [Even though they're like- Hundreds of years old by now]. They were doing their daily chores. When suddenly, he saw Silverbell cookie with someone they've never seen before. She had white hair and a floral green dress. "Ah! Your Highness! What timing." You nodded. "Silverbell Cookie. Who is this?" You asked as you fixed your clothes. "Oh, this is White Lily Cookie. She saved me while I was wounded."

You gave a sympathetic gaze to Silverbell and you bowed your head to White Lily. "Oh goodness! Thank you for helping him. Silverbell Cookie can be very... frail." You chuckled as Silverbell gave you a pout.

"Oh! You must be Elder Fairie Cookie that I've been hearing about then? You're much younger than I expected." White Lily gave you a smile and you laughed bashfully. "Ahahah! Actually no! That's my father. My name is [Reader] Cookie." White Lily gasped and rubbed the back of her neck, apologizing. You told her that everything was fine and you offered to introduce her to your father. She accepted happily and you dismissed Silverbell before leading her through the kingdom.

Seeing White Lily's awestruck gaze, you found yourself staring at her a little too long that you tripped over your feet. "Oh goodness! Here, let me help you." You felt your dough heat up as you took her hand and stood up. "Thank you..." You replied bashfully before continuing to lead her through the Kingdom. For some reason... Her smile reminded you of someone. You... can't remember where though.

When you introduced her to Elder Fairie, he was shocked. A cookie from a different continent... here? Interacting with his child- UUHHH- WHAT'S WITH THAT SMILE YOU'RE GIVING HER???

Elder Fairie looked between you two but kept his calm. You told him everything that Silverbell told you and Elder Fairie nodded. He just asked you to tour her around and you walked away with her happily.

'My child- With a girl???' Elder Fairie looked looked around desperately trying to find an excuse as to pry you away from White Lily. 'They're too young still! I never even let them out of the kingdom! Suddenly there's a girl they look fond of???' Elder Fairie went to his chambers to think.

Meanwhile, you were showing White Lily every crevice of the kingdom, loving how fascinated she was with everything you showed her. But then you shivered 'Why do I feel like I'm going to get punished for some reason..?' you thought in confusion before shaking it off, turning your attention back to White Lily.

"AAAGH! The seal is cracking!!"

"Your Majesty! Are you hurt?!"

"No, I'm unharmed! [Reader], are you alright?"

"I'm okay..."

The seal... you've heard about it from your father. You were told that ancient beings laid dormant in the silver tree. Beings that turned to beasts and wrecked havoc in the olden days. Your father told you how each beast had a soul jam. however, once the beasts were trapped, their soul jam was lost and given to other cookies. One of them being White Lily Cookie. You were worried for her safety but if she holds ancient powers then your fears are quelled.

"And evil will that has focused all its rage on breaking free from confinement. It must have angered the Beasts greatly now that each Soul Jam has found its rightful owner. Yes... they sensed that unless they escape now... they might never be granted another chance in the future. All their might now serves one single purpose- destroying the hated seal."

"Everyone, we must stand our ground. Our place now is by the Guardian of the Seal!" White Lily claimed as she stood beside you. "We shall protect His Majesty or crumble! For if the Guardian falls, there is no way to stop the Beasts from escaping." You helped White Lily motivate the other guards as you all raced to the silver tree. To see a major split.

"The seal has already split so wide..." White Lily gasped. You took her hand into yours. Telling her that it was all going to be okay, then gave her a reassuring nod. She smiled and then raised her staff. "Everyone, fight with me!"

Shadowy beings crawled out of the seal as cookies started fighting. White Lily started charging a powerful attack as someone started to protect the spellcaster. Which just so happened to be you.

"𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎… 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎…"

You gasped as a voice suddenly played through you head. "Hello..?" You whispered as you continued to protect White Lily.

"𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎…… [𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]..?"

You tensed up. as the voice said your name. "How do you know me..?" You bit the inside of your cheek but before the voice answered, White Lily's attack hit. Blocking the beasts and preventing the voice from talking with you.

You furrowed your brows, your curiosity is now peaked and you wanted to know how the voice knew you.

However, we all know the saying,

"Curiosity Killed the Cat"

Okay- I'm tired now-

Like for a part 2

( ─ . ─ )✌

Goodnight

[bangtanintotheroom]

Fill the Void (M)

I don't wanna decide things for myself, on my own

Finally, for the first time, I'm alone

You call me, havin' good times with a bad boy

Seems I've got a choice to make

Be my voice and I choose you to fill the void

• Pairing: Professional Dom!Hyunjin x Client!(F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Sex Worker!AU, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 7.1k

• Summary: He’s always there to help you forget your troubles, even if it’s just for a few hours.

• Warnings/themes: explicit sexual content, sex work, swearing, drinking, discussion of safe words and consent, dom!Hyunjin, sub!Y/N, sensory deprivation (blindfold), usage of sl*t, degradation, bondage, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, praise, use of sex toys, fingering, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, light choking, protected sex, spanking, multiple orgasms, aftercare

• Playlist: 🎧

• Song Inspo: Fill the Void - The Weeknd, Lily-Rose Depp (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: Wow, look who finished this, eons later! I am so sorry for everyone who’s been looking forward to this, between the holiday and con rush and focus issues, it was hard getting this complete 🥲 but it’s here now and I hope it was somewhat worth the wait! Shoutout to my lovely Sunclair @minisugakoobies for beta reading! 💖

• Taglist: @minttangerines @aznstoner @horanghater @addictedtohobi @swga-ficrecs @firesighgirl @hyunjinsjeans

It didn’t matter how many times you frequented this place; your reaction would always be the same.

Heart picking up in speed as you opened the heavy wooden door between a nail salon and a cat cafe.

Eyes darting around at the picture frames of scantily clad people hanging on the burgundy walls.

Lips curling as you approached the androgynous young man sitting behind the singular desk in the lobby.

He was quick to notice you, glittered eyes crinkling in recognition.

“Y/N, so good to see you again!”

“Same to you, Felix. Is he here tonight?”

What did it say about you that a specific name didn’t have to be announced for him to know who you were talking about?

“Of course, he just got in a few minutes ago. I’ll give him a call.”

Nodding in understanding, you waited as the receptionist picked up the phone and dialed. It didn’t take long for him to start speaking to who was on the other end.

“Hey man, what’s up? I’ve got a surprise for you here.”

A pause while you fiddled with your purse strap.

“One of your regulars is back.”

Felix chose to shoot you a wink from the side, making you grin bashfully.

“Yup, that’s the one. How long will it be?”

More silence before he nodded.

“Sounds good, she’ll be waiting for you. See ya.”

Hanging up the phone, Felix shot you a smile that contrasted with the dark and sensual decor.

“It’ll be a few minutes, he’s just freshening up and he’ll be out for you.”

His words only made your pulse quicken further, but you played it cool on the surface as you replied, “Wonderful. Thank you.”

“Just make yourself comfortable, okay?”

His suggestion was paired with an arm outstretched towards a waiting area to the right, occupied with a few patrons sitting on black velvet couches. With a nod at the blond, you headed into the room, only receiving a glance or two from the other occupants. You took a seat on one of the armchairs in the corner, crossing your legs and leaning back into the cushion as you waited.

To soothe the nerves that always plagued you in this establishment, your eyes took in the people nearby. There were only five of them, taking up little space in the sizable room.

Two of them were huddled together on one of the sofas, most likely a couple judging by the way they held hands and touched knees. Not an ounce of anxiety was on their faces; if anything, they looked eager for whatever was in store for them tonight.

As for the others…

Your eyes shifted subtly to the opposite side.

Three young men who seemed to be good friends, but were currently on different wavelengths. The one in the middle was sandwiched between the other two as they whispered excitedly. He seemed to be less enthusiastic than them, leg bouncing while he kept shaking his head or retorting to the others. A pat on the back helped ease his nerves, body leaning back into the seat as he took deep breaths.

Poor sap was probably a newbie.

You remembered when you were in his position. It felt like so long ago.

Or maybe you had just been here so often that it felt like a long time.

Either way, you were in and knew what you needed tonight.

“Y/N?”

A familiar voice brought you to attention, straightening up in your seat at the tall and lean figure now standing in front of you as your stomach flipped in on itself.

“Hyunjin.”

The man smiled down at you, the red lights illuminating and shadowing the right places on his handsome face.

“Welcome back.”

You returned the expression, cheeks heating up despite your best efforts. He always seemed to have this effect on you.

“It’s good to be back.”

Hyunjin’s magnetic smile only widened, holding a hand out towards you. Without exchanging any more words, you took it, marveling at the warmth and delicacy of it. The opposite of what it could really do behind closed doors.

He helped you up and led you out of the waiting room and back into the hall. You saw the other patrons staring at the two of you out of the corners of your eyes, expressions ranging from encouragement to curiosity. Probably wondering what the enticing worker and the client in her wrinkled pantsuit were going to get up to.

Nothing was said as you and him walked past closed doors, the occasional sounds soaking through them. A moan. A groan or two. Some laughter. Once in a while a scream of pleasure. Or pain.

The first couple of visits, you’d jump and blink owlishly at the rooms, your gaping broken by the gentle tug Hyunjin would give your hand. You were used to these noises by now; it was nothing but background music to you.

Finally, a familiar door ended up in your vision. The dark wood with the red chain wrapped around the handle had your stomach knotting in titillation. Just like always.

Hyunjin opened it and motioned you to enter first, waiting until you stepped halfway in to shut it behind him.

His designated room fit the aesthetic of the establishment, yet it had its own style that catered to its owner. Black made up most of the decor, with the occasional blocks of white and garnished by gold. With the large bed in the middle, decorated with multiple throw pillows, any passerby would assume this was a normal person’s bedroom.

But the oddly-shaped chair looming in the corner hinted at what occurred here other than sleeping and relaxing.

“Need a drink?”

The query made you inhale and let out a heavy breath.

“Please.”

You made yourself comfortable on the end of the king-sized bed, unbuttoning your blazer before tossing it behind you. The urge to lay back and sink into the cozy mattress crept up, but you fought it in favor of watching Hyunjin work his magic at the mini bar.

“I hadn’t heard from you in a while, thought something might’ve happened.”

You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“No, just a deadline that’s been sucking the soul out of me.”

The worker hummed in understanding, turning around to reveal a glass in his hand, halfway full with white wine. As soon as he was within reach, you took a hold of the drink, wasting no time in taking a sip. The room temperature liquid slid down your throat like it was gold, pulling a sigh out when you pulled the glass away.

“Fuck, I needed that. Thank you, Hyunjin.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.”

Hyunjin sat next to you, the distance enough to be respectable yet hint to the familiarity the two of you had.

“How have you been?”

One more sip and you turned your head to answer.

“On the verge of jumping out a window.”

The chuckle he gave was minor, though his expression exuded sympathy.

“Has work been that difficult?”

“Difficult doesn’t even come close to it.”

“Oh?”

Just that one little word was enough to have you prepping to express just what had been plaguing you in your career to even bring you here tonight.

“Well, where do I start?”

You moved your free arm back to lean on it, head tilting back to face the ceiling.

“Rumor has it that one of my managers is going to be laid off soon, despite our team being in the middle of a large project.”

You lifted the half-empty glass in the air.

“We have a new intern. Nice kid, but the amount of times he’s forgotten the basic details because he’s too focused on the big picture is irritating.”

The grip on the crystal stem tightened.

“I just found out that the sales coordinator who has been hitting on me is married. But if you ask him, he’ll say he’s in an open relationship.”

You sighed and shook your head.

“I actually liked that asshole.”

Hyunjin gave a scoff before remarking, “Men aren’t shit.”

“Seriously. Oh, and—” The lip of the glass hovered just centimeters away from your lips now. “—I got a parking ticket this morning.”

The tiniest of snorts left Hyunjin while you downed the rest of your drink, letting out a sigh of relief once it finished sliding down your throat.

“You’ve really been going through it, haven’t you?”

“To say the least.”

Your head turned, looking over the other’s appearance with interest. He always had the most interesting outfits on whenever you came, emphasizing his tall and lean figure. This time was no exception.

A short-sleeved sweater vest with a crisp white collar and a black tie wrapped around his neck and simple black slacks. A few bracelets and a watch on his wrists to brighten up the dark look. His hair was tied up this time, showing off an undercut you remembered him mentioning during your last visit. But while you were studying his face, you noticed something that wasn’t there before.

“This is new.”

You pointed to the metal sitting underneath Hyunjin’s right brow, his expression brightening.

“Ah, you noticed. I got it a few weeks ago.”

A hum vibrated through your lips as you admired the piercing.

“It suits you.”

He was quick to express his gratitude, clearly pleased that you brought it up. The two of you conversed on whatever came up for a while, acting like old friends and not a worker and client about to get down to business. But you started growing restless after a certain point, ready to receive what you came here for.

“Hyunjin?”

“Hm?”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear while looking into his eyes.

“I think I’m ready now.”

Your words made Hyunjin’s eyes steel, starting to enter into professional mode.

“Are you sure?”

No hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Okay—” He placed a hand on the small of your back, rubbing with comfort. “—how do you want it, Y/N?”

You knew. You knew since you began planning to come here earlier in the week. But it was a little further than what you were used to doing with him.

So you had to swallow the spit gathering in your mouth before responding, “Rough. Rougher than usual.”

The shift in Hyunjin’s dark eyes resembled the one you would see in your coworkers as they prepared to counter suggestions in meetings. His hand also stopped rubbing your lower back.

“How rough?”

His question forced you to take a moment and remember how the system he had set up worked. When you mulled over just how far you wanted him to go, you held up four fingers. He counted each digit and raised a brow at your answer.

“Are you sure? We’ve never gone that far before.”

“Yes, Hyunjin. I really need this, believe me.”

Your tone was verging on desperate, dying to give complete control over to this man and forget about anything irrelevant. It was just the professional in him making sure that his client knew what they were signing up for. You appreciated it, really.

But you needed Hyunjin to start making you forget your own name.

Thankfully, he nodded after a pause or two, his hand continuing to move again.

“Okay, love. That means we’ll have to do a refresher on safe words.”

Ah. Now you really had to dig in your brain this time.

You had never been pushed far enough that you had to use them, but now you were testing your boundaries. Hyunjin was good at his job, but that didn’t mean things couldn’t go wrong.

With intense focus, you attempted to recall the words. It took a while yet they returned in full clarity.

“Soft.”

“To keep going.”

You nodded.

“Hard.”

His mouth quirked.

“To bring up the intensity.”

The next one.

“Pause.”

“To stop completely.”

“And…”

This one took longer, but you managed.

“Swap.”

“To switch it up.”

You hummed in approval, his answers matching up correctly with your words.

“I’m surprised you remember.”

Hyunjin’s shoulders lifted in nonchalance.

“It’s my job, darling.”

A chuckle came from you; he did have a point.

“Fair. So—” You set your empty glass on the floor before standing up, cocking your head as you looked down at him. “—should I undress myself or would you like to do the honors?”

Hyunjin gave you the sauciest of smirks, letting you know that play time was over.

“It’s all up to you, love.”

Yes.

This was just what you needed.

To think about nothing except the toy sliding in and out of you and the one controlling it.

It took little effort on Hyunjin’s part to clear your mind of the troubles plaguing you outside of this building. As soon as you were stripped down to nothing but your skin, he was quick to switch to his other persona, instructing you to get comfortable on the piece of furniture in the corner before strapping you in with ease. The way his lips quirked when he looked over your bound form never failed to raise goosebumps. It was the last glimpse you got of him before satin covered your eyes and left you to view nothing but darkness.

And true to his promise, he began pushing you to your limits.

“A-Ah—”

You could hear him huff below you, taunting, “You’re making a mess on my furniture, darling.”

You were pretty sure he wasn’t exaggerating; every time the vibrator sunk in or pulled back, you could feel your wetness dripping out and collecting into a puddle underneath your ass. This was how you got whenever Hyunjin teased you. The ability he had to build you up and make you walk to the mountaintop, only to force you to turn around and head back down was astonishing.

And addicting.

“Mnh—”

It was pointless to tug at the bands around your wrists. You didn’t even budge an inch.

“So needy for a piece of plastic. It’s adorable.”

You tried to stop what came out of your mouth next automatically, but failed, retorting, “That piece of plastic is making me feel good— Ah!”

A sharp impact on your thigh brought a cry out of you, swiftly followed by his stern voice.

“Manners, Y/N.”

Oops. One of the rules established was to not talk back and you almost ruined the mood.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Hyunjin clicked his tongue at your meek apology, clearly not too pleased with the interruption.

“I thought I was doing my job, but I guess not since your mouth just ran off.”

You couldn’t avoid the way your walls squeezed when you heard him say in a velvety tone, “Guess we’ll have to fix that, hm?”

Within a second, you could feel the toy pulling out, a whine escaping your lips as you felt so empty all of a sudden.

“Sir—”

He didn’t allow you to utter another syllable as you felt something wet and hot gliding against your swollen folds out of nowhere. The sensation made you jerk in your restraints and yelp sharply, legs bound tight to prevent you from closing them. You weren’t sure if it was a good or bad thing at the moment.

Hyunjin’s tongue took its sweet time traveling, the tip dipping into crevices and swirling around your hard clit with precision. In any other situation, the attention would be welcome, especially from someone as skilled as him. But this was not helping with the golden rule of the night.

Don’t come unless he says so.

“Hyu— Sir, please!”

You trembled at the hum washing over your center. “Hm?”

“Sir…more.” A pause. “Please?”

Almost forgot your manners.

“I don’t know, love, can you handle more?”

Could you? Probably not, but tonight was about pushing your boundaries…

“Yes.”

Nothing but your labored breathing was heard for some time. Which was why you flinched at the feel of something much smaller and warmer than the vibrator poking at your entrance.

“Is this good enough for you, greedy thing?”

“Y-Yes sir!”

Your pitch increased when you felt his finger slide into you with little resistance, burying up to the knuckle. Hips raising at the sensation, they began following the rhythm of Hyunjin’s thrusting, enjoying the bundle of pleasure that began building up again.

“Fuck, you’re so needy.”

A pinch of your hip interrupted your movements, teeth catching onto your bottom lip.

“Fucking yourself onto my finger like a slut. Never imagined that this would be what I dealt with tonight.”

There was no hiding the shiver that wracked your body at his words. And if there was a chance, it was wiped off the map when Hyunjin tapped onto your G-spot, ripping a shriek out of you.

“Shit!”

The chuckle you heard was dripping with nearly sadistic amusement at your predicament.

“There you go, making a mess again.”

Your face burned with unbearable heat as he pointed out the obvious, feeling your arousal dribbling out every time he stroked the soft area or thrusted into it. It was difficult to get like this with any of your previous partners, but the man between your legs had you in such a state without even breaking a sweat.

To make matters worse, Hyunjin went back to stimulating your clit with his mouth. You could hear the clinking of the chains as you pulled your wrists forward, barely making any distance. He had made it so you couldn’t move as he ruined you to bits; all you could do was squirm on the chair and express yourself through expletives and moans.

It didn’t take long for your body to sink into the rhythm he was creating, fighting less and less against the pleasure. You had even bucked your hips a few times, receiving chuckling and teasing from the other.

But then you realized at a certain point that you were getting too relaxed.

For a string deep in your belly began forming into a knot and pulling tight.

Fuck. Not good.

“Y/N.”

The rigidity surrounding your name made you freeze before Hyunjin continued, “You better not be doing what I think you’re about to do.”

“I-I’m not, sir—”

The way your voice shook and you tugged at your bindings betrayed your words. Denying the sensation only seemed to exacerbate it, the mass growing further and further the more his fingers slid in and out of your pussy.

“Doesn’t feel like it. Remember what I said?”

“Y-Yes.”

A sharp pinch to your inner thigh made you whimper.

“Say it.”

“Don’t c-come unless you say so. I promise I won’t, sir.”

A rub on that same spot was followed by, “Good.”

But he didn’t ease up. Instead, he continued his motions and challenged your resistance to breaking one of his rules. You were trying to give the facade that you were under control, but your body kept twisting and whimpers poured from your agape mouth.

It was so tempting to just give up and say your safe word, but fuck that.

You were on a mission tonight and you weren’t raised to be a quitter.

The sting of nails digging into your palms felt minor compared to the ache between your legs.

Fight it. Fight it. Fight it.

The sensation remained stagnant before finally beginning to fade into slight discomfort. Although your body protested, your mind was satiated by the praise you heard next.

��Good girl. I love when you listen to me.”

You hummed in appreciation at Hyunjin’s words and the hand gently rubbing your hip now.

“Th-Thank you, sir.”

The welcoming warmth of his palm lulled you into somewhat of a relaxed state that made you aware of the current position you were in. The hardness of the chair was starting to make your bottom sore and your hands and feet were starting to get a bit tingly now. Your lips turned downwards as you tried but failed to regain your discomfort.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Easy.”

His touch paused, the heat stagnant on your skin.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“A little.”

You heard Hyunjin hum before responding, “Should we move this to the bed, darling?”

Just the thought of laying on the soft duvet had your tone brightening as you gave your approval. The hand left your hip before landing above your head to work on loosening you from the furniture.

Feeling the leather unwrap from your wrists and ankles was a mild relief, flexing your toes and fingers for a moment before you felt your hips being grabbed and pulled downwards. Your legs came together quick enough to help you stand, although they had little strength once your feet touched the ground. Your sense of balance was affected from the prolonged position and you stumbled forward.

If it wasn’t for the hands that swiftly supported your waist, you would have ended up face first with the carpet.

“Be careful.”

Anyone unfamiliar with Hyunjin would have missed the minor softening of his tone, the immersion breaking for a moment to make sure you were able to continue. You took this opportunity to rest your forehead against what felt like his shoulder and regain your bearings. The sensation of fabric against your skin and the scent of his cologne entering your nostrils contributed to being aware of your surroundings once again.

After taking a few deep breaths, you straightened up, hoping that you were looking somewhere at Hyunjin’s face.

“Y/N, how are you feeling?”

A loaded question, really.

You were feeling like a mess in the best way possible, yet the sharp pang between your thighs was torturous. Every throb reminded you of what he had been putting you through for the last…

How long had it even been since you stepped in this room?

“I’m…soft.”

Hyunjin clued in on the word, a hum leaving him in response.

“I see. Do you think we should move this somewhere a little more comfortable?”

The invitation was more than welcoming to you. As much fun as you were having in the chair, nothing could beat the plushness of a bed. Especially his bed.

“I’d like that, sir.”

A rub of your waist made a thrill run down your spine, followed by his hands coming up behind your head.

“Should we take this off or leave it on?”

You didn’t want to risk nearly taking a spill again, so you chose the former, remaining still as Hyunjin undid the knot of your blindfold. As soon as the fabric was lifted off, you made the mistake of quickly opening your eyes, wincing as the dim light attacked them. The man in front of you chuckled in amusement, appearing as a blurry shape to you.

“I turned the lights down for a reason, darling.”

“Thank you…”

It took a minute to adjust, but you were able to finally see the other in full form, taking in his appearance.

Aside from a bead of sweat at his hairline, he looked nonplussed. Like he hadn’t been working you up with his own two hands.

Someone who was impeccable at his job.

“Come on.”

Hyunjin’s expression cooled, a hand sliding down to grip the back of your neck.

“Break time is over.”

The pang between your thighs returned in full force at the tone of his voice and touch, your head bobbing in agreement. He took a hold of your shoulders before turning you around, the king-sized bed in your view as he guided you to walk forward. Just as your legs were about to hit the foot of it, Hyunjin stopped you, leaning down to croon into your ear, “How do you want it?”

It wasn’t easy to answer immediately. The cautious part of you said to get in a position that wouldn’t break you down further, but the adventurous side wanted to go all out. You pondered for as long as you could, not feeling any sort of impatience from the man behind you.

But finally—

“Can I show you?”

Your question was answered with a hum, feeling his hands remove themselves. Once you were free, you stepped forward to climb onto the bed, stopping in the middle on your hands and knees. You lowered the side of your head to rest on the plush comforter, bringing your arms behind you to cross your wrists on the small of your back.

“Like this, sir.”

You heard Hyunjin make a sound of interest before footsteps echoed, stopping once his body was in your sight.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Your gaze connected with his. “And bind me again, please.”

Hyunjin quirked a brow, somewhat intrigued by your request. Studying your expression to find any hesitation, he gave his own approval once it was clear that there was none.

“Alright. Lift your head up for a second.”

You were a bit confused, but obliged, watching his arm go out of view to grab something above your head. It was clear what he went for when he slid the object under your temple before motioning you to lower it, the coolness and comfort of the silk pillowcase providing some relief.

“So you don’t walk out of here with a sore neck.”

A smile couldn’t help but form, looking up at him as you gave your thanks. The tiniest lift of his mouth occurred but disappeared swiftly, leaving your sight as he walked off to grab whatever was needed for this next phase.

You were hopeful that whatever would enter you next wasn’t his fingers or another toy. At this point, you needed something more substantial. And knowing how thorough Hyunjin could be with what he hid in his slacks had your veins thrumming with electricity.

But alas. You blanked out for a moment and forgot that it wasn’t going to be the usual song and dance tonight, per your request.

For after you felt him locking the familiar leather cuffs around your wrists, his fingertips trailed down your body until they stroked against your dripping folds.

“Have you gotten even wetter, darling?”

You swallowed down a whimper when he tapped your throbbing clit, replying, “Maybe…”

A short laugh and a pinch to your bottom was what you got in return.

“Why am I not surprised? I bet you’re hoping that I’ll fuck you now, hm?”

Even if your body remained still as a board, surely he saw the way you reacted between your legs.

“Yes sir.”

A light swat on your ass had your breath hitching.

“Yes sir, what?”

Oh. Here we go.

You had to wet your dry lips before speaking lowly, “Yes sir, I’m hoping you’ll fuck me.”

Hyunjin didn’t seem to be entirely convinced as he delivered another smack, earning a short but sharp sound from you.

“It doesn’t sound like it, Y/N. You seemed more desperate when I had that piece of plastic inside you.”

Now you could feel his fingertip parting your folds before it slowly opened your entrance, sinking in ever so slightly, not even close to stroking that sweet spot.

“Even when my finger was in, you sounded needy. I think you were satisfied with just those, no?”

He probably wanted you to convince him. Really convince him.

Time to reach into your depths and pull out the performance of your life.

“No, sir. They’re not enough.”

You dared to push your hips back, forcing the digit in deeper.

“I need your cock instead. Need it to fuck me dumb.”

A noise of intrigue came from behind you, but you continued before he could say anything.

“I really need this, sir. Want you to stretch my pussy out some more—”

You moved back further, breath hitching when your spot was nearly touched.

“Please fuck me now.”

Nothing but your own heartbeat was heard, hoping that your little show was enough to prove yourself. After a moment, you felt the finger inside you take its sweet time sliding out, hips following in vain. A hard slap was given on your ass, followed by a deep chuckle.

“That was impressive, darling. I’ve never heard you sound so needy before.”

As much as you wanted to bury your heated face into the bed, you remained steady. “I’ll do what I have to to convince you, sir.”

“I see—”

The noise of his belt coming undone made your ears perk up.

“Then I should give the little slut what she’s been asking for, right?”

It was so hard to hide your triumphant grin, but you managed to dim it down into the tiniest of smiles.

“Thank you, sir.”

A pat to your bottom was Hyunjin’s appreciation of your manners. It felt like ages before you felt him get on the bed to kneel behind your bent form. But when something thicker than a finger and warmer than a vibrator rested between your ass cheeks, elation began blossoming in your chest. It was hard to resist when you decided to wiggle, biting back a giggle at the slightest intake of breath from him.

It was a temporary victory as Hyunjin’s hands took a firm hold of your hips, keeping you in place now.

“Cheeky.”

You weren’t surprised at the pinch you received, taking it in stride. This was what you were waiting for all night. Hell, all day. You didn’t have to hope that he would, to put it simply, fuck the ever-loving shit out of you.

The man knew how to do his job thoroughly.

“Ready?”

You nodded, shifting your body a bit to prepare for what was to come.

“Yes, sir.”

With those two words, you could feel Hyunjin grab himself, readjusting to have his tip pressing lower down now. Your toes curled instinctively when you felt the blunt head of his cock parting your folds before he began penetrating. You forgot how to breathe for a moment at the intrusion, nails digging into your palms. But he was giving you what you asked for and that’s all you could want.

Until—

Oh fuck.

You were more sensitive than you realized, feeling the familiar tingle in your fingers and toes start as he sunk further in. You tried to stave off the sensations, but with each inch, you felt your self control withering away and collecting into a ball of tension in your lower stomach. Your walls began trembling before starting to clench around him in preparation for—

“Y/N.”

The sharpness of your name forced you to pay attention, especially when Hyunjin followed with, “Don’t.”

Damn. Your body was a rebel, trying to fight against his command, pussy still throbbing incessantly. You had to get it under control now. Who knew what he’d have in store if you disobeyed?

“I-I’m trying, sir…”

You were forced to shut your eyes as you tried your damnedest to regain control, from counting backwards to picturing a calm ocean. After a few countdowns, you managed to refocus, avoiding the inevitable orgasm. Even though your cunt was screaming at you to give in to the sweet release, you felt a sense of satisfaction at being able to hold back.

Hyunjin seemed to be impressed also, giving a gentle rub to your sore ass cheek before cooing, “Such a good girl.”

You exhaled sharply, only to suck in a breath when you felt him begin to move. The thrusts were slow and long, forcing you to soak in every bit of his dick. He had a way of rolling his hips that not many men had in them, rendering you weak within a couple of minutes. Now was not an exception, soft moans starting to leave your parted lips with increasing frequency.

“This is what you wanted, right?”

“Mnh— Yes, sir. Feels good—”

Funny how nonplussed Hyunjin sounded compared to you, already getting lost in the pleasure.

“Good. I better keep hearing you sound like this.”

“Of course— Ah!”

A deeper than expected thrust ripped a cry from your throat. Your fingers curled and dug into your palms as you tried to keep it together. As badly as you wanted to release, you were determined to stick to your challenge tonight.

Even though the man behind you was making it insanely difficult.

He wouldn’t stick with the same, old rhythm. If Hyunjin wasn’t switching his strokes up, he was grunting or husking out words that made heat spread throughout every part of your body.

Good.

You wanted to forget about whatever happened prior to you stepping in this building and he was doing his absolute best to see your wish through.

Time was a foreign concept while you were being fucked. Especially when you were doing your best to not come before you were given the go ahead. But like a splash of cold water, you suddenly felt Hyunjin completely bury himself, skin flush against yours.

A yelp left you at the change, ready to call out his name until you heard something gruff and velvety ring out behind you.

“Come.”

Was it the way his word was delivered with pure authority? Was it because he was buried deep inside your cunt, flush with your bottom? Or was it how tight he gripped your hips, fingers digging hard enough to feel the dullness of his nails?

Either way, it hit you like a freight train.

If anyone had been walking close in the hallway, surely they heard the way you screamed out.

Spots filled your vision, every bit of your body shaking at the long-awaited release. The only thing keeping you from completely sinking into the bed were Hyunjin’s hands.

“Yes, that’s it, darling.”

How you managed to hear his praise during your prolonged orgasm was a miracle. Eventually, the sensations faded and you were of sound mind again.

The dom must have noticed as you could feel him beginning to thrust into you again, bringing a feeling of strong overstimulation to you. You bit back a whimper, your pussy trembling in a mix of pleasure and discomfort. You tried to subtly shift away from him, but to no avail.

A pressure on the chain linking your bound hands was quickly followed by a commanding, “Don’t fucking run—“

A sudden jerk of your cuffs forced your body to straighten, your bound hands now trapped between your back and Hyunjin’s torso.

“You wanted to come so badly, I’m giving it to you.”

There was little space for you to protest at all, a hand coming up to wrap around your neck and an arm wrapping around your waist to keep you in place. As soon as a light pressure made your breathing hitch, Hyunjin began pounding into you, harder than ever.

If it wasn’t for his fingers, you would have shrieked.

The sensitivity from before still lingered, bringing a mix of pain and bliss that was unlike what you had experienced with him before. But you never spoke any of your safe words.

You just let the other keep pushing you over the edge repeatedly, to the point where you practically forgot your own name. Your entire body and brain were entering into a fog that could only focus on the cock driving in and out of you and the debauchery being rasped into your ear.

“Fuck, that’s it! Coming endlessly like a needy slut.”

“This pussy of yours just keeps squeezing me over and over—”

“Such a good girl for me, mnh—!”

Just when you were on the verge of asking him to slow down, you felt Hyunjin completely bury himself before remaining still behind you. The gritted swearing and strong twitching of his cock against your hypersensitive walls clued you in to what was happening, a mix of relief tinted with satisfaction washing over you.

As the two of you caught your breath, exhaustion started sinking its claws into you. Your eyelids became heavy, threatening to close when he released your neck and waist to gently lay you on your front. Landing on the duvet only made the sensation worse, leaving you limp as a noodle.

If you had been by yourself in this room, there would’ve been no way to get out. Thank God for Hyunjin being here to look out for you.

You could feel him undoing your cuffs before he carefully rolled you onto your side, guiding you into a fetal position that was much needed.

“How are you feeling?”

Spent. Satisfied. Ready for a nap.

But all you could muster was a weak grunt.

Hearing Hyunjin hum, you felt a warm hand lay between your shoulder blades and begin to rub.

“Would you like something to eat and drink? It’ll help get your energy back.”

At least you could manage a nod, lids fluttering.

The hand was removed as he went to grab whatever he had stored away for moments like this, leaving you to try your best to not fall asleep right there. Luckily, Hyunjin returned swiftly, soft voice sounding again. “Darling, I’m going to sit you up, okay?”

You managed to croak a feeble response, allowing him to guide you to sit up against the pillows. You saw spots for a moment, leaning your head back to try and blink them away.

“Here.”

You looked down to see the lip of a water bottle in front of your face. With Hyunjin’s help, you managed to latch on and drink. Once you got a satisfying amount down, he handed you a small pack of saltines, already opened.

“Is this fine or would you like something else?”

The tiniest of smiles came over as you took the package.

“This is perfect. Thank you.”

Hyunjin reflected your expression, waiting until you ate one of the crackers before reaching for your free arm. As soon as his lithe fingers began working into your stiff muscles, you sighed in contentment.

“Your arms must be killing you right now.”

“Mm, I’ve had worse being in the gym.”

The dom chuckled at your light quip, glad to see that you were coming back down easily.

“I’ll still give you an Aleve before you head out, your tune might change in the morning.”

Even though your eyes rolled, you were appreciative of his thinking ahead. One of the reasons you always came back.

“Thank you.”

While you were snacking away, Hyunjin continued massaging all of your limbs, chasing away the aches and tingles with little effort. As soon as you finished eating and chugged your last bit of water, he was quick to offer you more, but you declined.

If you filled your stomach any more, you definitely would have curled up in your spot and taken a nap. You didn’t want to go over your time limit and interfere with his next client.

Once you had your bearings about you, you let Hyunjin know that you were ready to leave. He looked you over once more to make sure you were able to head home safely before helping you into the adjoining bathroom to freshen up. You cleaned up as best as you could and redressed, not caring that the wrinkles in your pantsuit worsened by now.

Your companion for the night took your hand and led you out and back down the hallway, your mood a 180 from a couple of hours ago. Stress didn’t run through your veins anymore, replaced with a lightness that could only come from a place like this.

“So how long will it be until I see your face again?”

A shrug greeted Hyunjin’s question.

“Hopefully not as long. I’ve still got some PTO left that I can use, so who knows?”

“Hm, we shall see.”

The two of you reached the entrance to the waiting room, the other stopping to turn and face you head-on.

“So this is goodbye, for now.”

You nodded and replied, “It is. Thank you again, Hyunjin. You don’t know how much I needed this tonight—” your teeth flashed, “—it’s like an entire weight off my shoulders.”

Hyunjin smiled politely, taking your free hand as well to give both of them a careful squeeze.

“As always, it’s my pleasure. You did great, Y/N.”

The praise brought a flutter to your chest and a warmth to your face. He was never shy with compliments. Although you had to wonder if his clients ever returned the favor on the regular…

Time to take a chance.

“So did you, Hyunjin.”

The way his eyes scrunched and teeth flashed, paired with his cheeks turning pink, let you know that you made the right decision.

“Thank you, darling.”

With a kiss to your hands and a good night, he sent you off on your way. You had a bounce in your step as you headed past the receptionist desk, Felix in the middle of a conversation with a young woman.

“I can guarantee you’ll have a good time with him, he’s one of our best here. Oh, Y/N!”

The call of your name made you pause, acknowledging the blond.

“How was it?”

Your grin expressed everything and more as you answered, “More than I needed and wanted.”

Felix beamed, pleased with your feedback. “Excellent! I actually have this wonderful young lady here asking about Hyunjin—” he jerked his head towards her, “—maybe you can give her your two cents?”

Said woman looked at you now, her lips curving with kindness and modesty.

“Hello. You’re familiar with Hyunjin?”

“Very. He’s my go-to guy whenever I visit. I’ve never had the urge to choose anyone else.”

Her eyes widened, curiosity covering her face now.

“Wow, really? That’s quite the preference.”

Watching the way she reacted reminded you of your first time here; on edge and unsure what exactly you wanted from one of the doms. If it wasn’t for the extensive patience Hyunjin showed you that first night, you never would have stepped foot in here again, let alone multiple times.

She had nothing to worry about.

“Mhm. Honestly, from one woman to another, I say go with him. Trust me—” you gave her as much of a reassuring smile as you could muster, “—you’ll be in good hands.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[0blobthefish0]

Tease

addison montgomery masterlist | main masterlist

Addison Montgomery x Reader 1,184 words

a\n - thank you so much to the person who requested, I am so sorry that it has taken me literal eons to get this finished. Thank you for being so patient with me, you're an angel!!

You were the only one in the skills lab and you were going through the latest surgery that you had watched Addison perform. You went over the steps over and over again, performing as if you were the lead surgeon - a method that Addison had recommended. However, you were still managing to mess up. The room was dark, the station you were working at being the only source of light, and so you failed to notice the door open and a certain red-head walk in.

"Loosen your grip." You felt yourself jump at the sudden intrusion of the silence that you had been in for nearly an hour and quickly looked up to see Addison just opposite you. "If you relax, you'll get the angle right." She offered and you nodded your head before repositioning yourself.

Addison circled the table and stood behind you, slightly to your right.

"Here," she began and placed her hand over yours before softly angling it down. "Now try." She was so close you could feel her breath fan over the shell of your ear. "Good, well done," you heard Addison congratulate as you made a successful incision and you let out a deep breath in celebration.

"Thank you so much," you thanked before spinning around to face her. You had to stop yourself from letting out a gasp. When had she gotten so close?

"You're doing well, you probably use this area more than anyone else," she smiled and then her brows furrowed ever so slightly as she tilted her head to look at you.

"What's on your mind?"

"Oh, um, it's nothing," you waved off, but Addison only raised a brow at you. You rested against the side of the table, you didn't really want to tell her, it wasn't really anything to be worried about. So what if the other residents didn't really talk to you because they thought you were getting special treatment? You knew that you weren't.

"What is it?" Addison asked softly.

"Did you know that people think that we're a thing?"

"Really?" Addison questioned with a little shock.

"Addie, are you really that surprised?" You chuckled. "The things you say-"

"Why? What do I say?"

"What do you not say?"

---

You stood by the reception, clipboard in hand, waiting to check up on your patient.

"How's it going, hot stuff?"

You turn your head to stare at Addison, dumbfounded, and she's looking at you with a smile on her face, amusement shining in her eyes.

You whack her with your clipboard, "Addison," you hiss before reminding her, "we are in public."

A smirk grows on Addison's lips and you feel your face fall, bracing yourself for what was coming next.

"Why, you wanna take this elsewhere?" You feel your cheeks begin to heat up at the innuendo.

"Go away," you mutter out with a playful roll of your eyes.

"Mel had her baby," she announces and a smile grows on your lips, "it's a girl and she is so cute."

"Oh my god, yay, finally! She was in labour for so long, if I was her, I'd be a total bitch by the end.

"No, yeah, we'd all be, Mel was a total trooper."

---

You were on a lunch break, and sat next to Addison, listening to Callie talk, as you stabbed your food with a fork and shovelled it into your mouth. You were only very slightly aware of the pair of eyes on you as you ate.

"You look good today." Your fork paused mid-air and you turned to Addison.

"Thank you, I showered," you smirked and pushed your eyebrows up twice with a smirk on your face.

"Charming," Callie interjected.

"No, really, you look good," Addison persisted and leant in a little closer as she searched your face. Unconsciously, you were holding your breath. "Did you do something different?"

"Aha, no I don't- I don't think so," you muttered as you became more bashful by the second.

"Woah," Addison leant back into her original position, "am I interrupting something?" Mark Sloan questioned before he sat down at the table.

"No?" Addison replied and you lightly shook your head in time with her before you pushed the forkful of food into your mouth and promptly moved the moment to the back of your mind.

---

You let out a wide yawn as you slowly heaved yourself onto one of the beds pushed against a wall of a corridor. Finally, you allowed your posture to relax and the back of your head lightly hit the wall before closing your gently, stinging eyes. God, you were tired.

"Can I join you?" You opened your eyes to see Addison standing before you and, wordlessly, you moved over so that she could sit next to you. You heard her let out a long sigh after getting comfortable. The two of you had had a long night.

You felt Addison reach out for your hand and your fingers laced with hers before she turned to you with empathetic eyes.

"How're you doing?" She whispered.

"Better than I thought I would, I'll probably feel it tonight though," you whispered back softly.

"Y'know, I can still remember the first thing you said to me," Addison smiled after a small pause.

"Oh god," you covered your face, "don't remind me."

Put me on your service.

That was what you had first said to Addison Montgomery. You had said it with a little bite, and all she did was look at you from her bed beside yours with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. You've come to notice that she looks at you like that quite often.

"It wasn't even a question," Addison chuckled, "you told me to put you on."

"Stop," you pouted. "In all fairness, I wasn't in my right mind," you defended to which Addison silently agreed to.

You were in the OR Marina Wagner, her toxic blood had wiped the whole room in a matter of a few minutes and you had hit your head on the OR step stool - splitting open the flesh of your forehead. So when you woke up, the hospital-grade painkillers still in your system, to find Addison in a bed next to you, you obviously had to take your chance. Not that you were aware of what you were doing anyway.

"I thought you were cute, telling me off for not putting you on my service." Addison confessed and you shook your head with a smile on your face.

You felt her squeeze your hand and you rubbed your thumb over hers in response. God, were you tired.

---

"I don't blame them," you smile, "you, with all your teasing, makes it hard to believe it's not real." You didn't mean for that last past to slip out and you feel your cheeks begin to burn, and you're thankful for the position of the light.

Addison, however, is lit up and you watch as she swallows. Her eyes search your own this time.

"Do you want it to be real?" She whispers quietly and you stare back at her; did you?

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

BABES IM ON THE FLOOR 😭 I watched this Price Voice Lines Video and my god 🫠 His voice is so deep im litrally insane. Could you maybe do something with his lines around the 13:35 mark, where he’s being a self-sacrificing jerk? 🤭 Maybe the Reader is with him on a mission or something and like their both super protective and trying to save eachother or something ❤️

All, Most, Some, None

PAIRING: John Price x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS:  Snow melts in the heat of blood.

WORDCOUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: Angst, major character death(s), some fluff in the beginning, protective!Price, pre-relationship pining, obliviousness, blood, bullet wounds, hurt/no comfort, etc. no happy ending

A/N: You know I have to finish out my requests with just pure heartbreak.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You look out over the dark landscape and take down a breath as the atmosphere of the camp behind you murmurs like a warm drink. Night had fallen swiftly two hours beforehand when you’d first volunteered to take watch, your smile bright and eyes eager. Snow was just beginning to slide down from the gray sky, thick clouds hanging like a navy cloth—splotch marks of yellowish stars a far-off glimmer of infinity. 

When the footsteps echo out, coming to your position, you already know the weight and pace of who it belongs to; can trace the way his feet will conform to the dirt and the crunch of white powder. A grin flickers your lips easily but you don’t bother looking over your shoulder. 

John huffs as he takes his place beside you on the lookout, crossing his arms over his chest. In the corner of your eye you spy on his loose yet measured face, that authoritative edge that seeps into his skin at times. 

For a long moment, the two of you look out over the earth, studying the dips and drags of the Northwest Territories of Canada in early winter. While cold, the jackets the both of you wear take the chill off well enough. Along the body of your MK14 EBR, your fingers rest casually—no need to be tensed and ready. Your sharp eyes hadn’t spotted anything for eons. 

“Sitrep, then, Sol?” You hum under your breath as John looks over at you with a raised brow.

“Rabbits and Caribou, Sir.” Your voice goes teasing, “I think we’re boxed in from all sides—I suggest immediate evac.”

A low chuckle and a firm shake of a beanied head, a puff of condensation as the darkness seeps over all to be seen. John glances at you with a smirk.

“Unfortunate, seeing as we just got here.” You smile and laugh deep in your throat. It was at moments like this that you thanked whatever deity was out there that Captain Price had seen your potential all those years ago. 

He’d handpicked you when you were nothing but a Private—brought you up with knowledge and stern, yet gruffly companionate, assistance all the way to Lieutenant. You don’t know the exact moment when you started to get flustered around him. 

Your chest is tight right now, fingers that were once cold going clammy as you twitch them. Inside your chest, your heart pounds blood into the thin drums of your ears like boot-thumps. Clearing your throat, you shift your feet and push out, “Did Laswell get in touch?”

“Ah,” John shakes his head, taking a breath as he says, “Negative. We’re on our own for this.” He turns his head fully to you and for a moment you’re enraptured by the shine in the depths of his blue irises. Teasing, “Think you can handle it, then?”

You turn away quickly, face burning. 

“Doubt me?” Matching his jab you smile widely. John chuckles and jerks his shoulders, grunting as his chin tilts. 

“Never.” Hiding the violent burn of your cheeks, you look at the landscape quickly, nails tapping the metal of your gun. 

“Sol?” John speaks after a moment of tight silence. You blink over with an interested look, cocking your head. The Captain had shifted to fully face you, and one of his hands itches at the side of his finely-trimmed beard. Fast eyes glance over your form like a studious teacher—your lungs still inside of your ribs. John mutters, “Stick near me tomorrow, yeah? Want you on my six.” 

Touched, your brows still furrow with confusion. 

“Don’t…you need me to lead Unit Two?” John’s already shaking his head, gritting his teeth. It’s like something’s bothering him. 

Feet taking you forward, you grab onto his bicep and stare into his tense face with slight concern. “John?” You ask, lids narrowing. 

The man stills at the sensation of your touch, even separated by the layers of his gear and jacket. Eyes slip to yours and lightly soften, the edges easing in their relentless wrinkle of dark thoughts. Like the star that your codename emulated, you seemed to be a ray of illumination for the Captain, and John’s nose twitched before his eyes quickly looked away from your open face. 

It wasn’t right to think the way he did about you. 

“Just have a feeling, Love,” he shakes his head slightly, clearing his throat. Your hand drops from him and he stops himself from snatching it back. 

You smile at him, huffing a laugh. 

“Well, who else’ll be able to take my place, then, seeing as you’re so eager to have me by you?” Gazing behind you into the small camp, John grunts, keeping his eyes on you. A small smirk slips over his lips and pulls his beard back.

“Daniels has got it…copy?” Your throat hums in consideration before you nod in a firm flinch of your head. 

“...Alright.”

“Good.” The Brit shifts his feet and the snow squeals. Snowflakes collect on the top of your head, sitting atop your scalp like tiny insects as the swell of your mouth goes back in a grin. John blinks at you, and before he knows it, he’s extending his hand up to his beanie with little thought beyond how lovely you look like this. 

He plops the fabric down on your head and you snap a hand up to press into it in shock. The man’s large frame slinks back as he takes his leave with you looking back at him; his feet make tracks, leading away to mirror the ones that came before. 

“Don’t get a cold, eh? I’ll expect you to be back in your tent within the hour, Lieutenant.” Face burning, you can’t answer. 

Blue eyes peek over a wide shoulder. Something sparks in those met gazes, a pinprick of wonder and deep affection. Perhaps it was even love.

The snow falls faster, and as John disappears into the darkness the chill of the open ridge suddenly seems less violent than your pulse as it thumps to the humming of the earth. Hiding a giddy smile, you look back out and rub at your neck; hat upon your head perfectly ingrained with a scent of charcoal and pine. 

—

“Leave me! I won’t make it!” The words made your stomach drop through your intestines. Shouted over the open line John’s voice barks the order like a knife with break-neck efficiency. No hesitation. 

It had all gone to shit in a matter of hours. The sun was just on the horizon, spreading its hands of dawn over the camp that was awash with blood and bodies. Enemy soldiers, the ones that your squad was tasked with taking out within the next day, had killed the next sentry on duty after you and stormed your position. 

To think you were minutes away from being that very sentry was mind-numbing. But now the real problem was the state of the camp. 

John had been hit through the right thigh.

Taking cover behind a large pine tree, you dart out at every other interval to fire rounds into anything that dashes like a wild animal into the open. Most of the squad was dead—the rest scattered in the sparse cover that was offered or in the process of dying. Snow melted in the heat of crimson fluid.

Spying the downed figure of your Captain, you growl and sprint out before you can talk yourself out of it, taking the recoil of your MK14 EBR into your shoulder and teeth gritted. John writhes on the ground, trying to maintain control over the remaining forces as his leg is limp and useless. He growls out in pain as his head hits the ground behind him. 

“Fuck!” He shouts. You feel a bullet whizz past your head as you skid down to your knees beside him. 

“Sol!” He glares at you as you survey the damage quickly, ducking when the metal projectiles get gradually closer and closer. There’s shouting in the far treeline; death cries. “What the hell are you doing? Get out of here!”

“You’re stupid if you think I’m about to do that to you!” You yell, jerking your gun up to release three bullets into someone who had burst out with a raised assault rifle. Pain flares in your left bicep, but you barely notice it beyond a strained, instinctual, whimper. “I’m getting you out of here.” 

Panic had gone as deep as your DNA, seeing the large pool of blood around John, his venom-laced words that stem from agony.

“Leave! Fucking hell, Lieutenant, that’s an order!” 

“John,” you shout, “shut the fuck up!” The man’s eyes go wide with shock. It wasn’t often that you swore at him. 

Making your hands dive under your Captain, you loop your hands behind his shoulders and latch at his armpits. With all of your might, you shift and begin dragging him backward into the trees; gritting your teeth at his pained yell and the bare of his own pearly whites.

Moving like this was stupid, you wouldn’t be able to take out your gun without dropping John—and you certainly weren’t going to do that. Not on your life.

“Christ,” the Brit groans, and you frantically watch the blood trail he leaves behind along the ground. Like a rabbit who’d gotten his leg bit off by a wolf but was still trying to run.

There was too much blood.

Agony explodes in your side, but you keep dragging backward with a new hitch in your lungs; eyes awash with tears before the air leaves you with a ragged and violent gasp. The sounds you hear from all around are horrible—the screams and the popping of rapid-fire shots. Sucking down oxygen with a vile cough, you get John behind a cropping of rocks and have to settle him down as you hack into one of your arms; chest shuddering.  

There is a pressure inside of you that digs into your flesh, but the adrenaline floods your brain over the alarm bells, drowning them.

You pull back your arm to see blood. But it doesn’t matter—not now. Not with John like this.

Looking down, you stare into his eyes while you get to your knees by his side. His gaze is wide and stuck at your abdomen with panic, where you already know the damage a bullet can do. 

“Love…” he begins, but his fingers curl into fists of pain instead. John breathes heavily, and when you look down to his thigh you find far more than one bullet. 

There were three, all spaced out in an arch. One at his thigh, one up on his pelvis, and the other directly in his stomach. Your eyes widen with mute horror, mouth stuttering as your throat closes. 

“Yeah,” blood bubbles from John’s mouth as he chuckles in quick gasps. “No good, eh?”

Tears build in great waves, but you force out, “No,” growling, you feel your own blood stain your gear and clothes. No exit wounds for either of you, you can already tell. “No, John—not like this.”

“Sweetheart,” he tries, but you grip the beanie on your head and shove it into his stomach, pressing on the wound there as he wheezes and you sob. 

“No, John!” A large hand finds the back of your hair, and you shake your head wildly. 

Blue eyes stare with regret and torment before darting back down to your wound. You can feel it—you already know; knew the moment the stray bullet hit you. 

The both of you…

“I’m sorry,” he says, quietly so that you have to strain to hear it above the noise. “I’m sorry, Love.” With a shiver of intense throbbing, the strain growing, you dart forward with waning strength and place your lips to his. 

Bloody hands grip his cheeks, slipping over his beard in fruitless desperation. Blood coats your mouths, but the moment of pure love and tenderness takes over. For a minute you can both forget the chill of metal and the blood pooling to the ground. The shaking in your muscles.

You can forget that the both of you are dying.

John keeps the back of your head to him as strength begins to slip. When you pull away with quivering limbs, his thumb weakly brushes your undereye to dispel the bitter tears. He hums with wet eyes. 

“I never got to take you out, did I?” You slip down beside him, shivering and losing heat not only because of the snow. Limbs grow heavy and in the back of your mind, you know you should be afraid—terrified. Maybe you were.

The comment makes you want to scream and rage and wail. 

“No,” you instead say, laughing through a sob at the cruelty of it all as you latch onto him. “No, you didn't, John. But I’m here now. I’m right here.”

Eyes slide over your face as you stay near him; waiting. A tiny smile as his bloody fingers brush your cheek. 

“When we get back I’ll show you ‘round Hertfordshire,” you both know that will never happen. His forehead knocks against yours. “You’ll love it, Sweetheart. Know you will.” 

“I will,” you promise, knowing you can’t. The world besides both of your eyes swirls. “Anywhere with you, John, is worth going.”

It’s obvious what you mean.

John presses his lips back to yours with one last whispered breath of his vow. “I’ve loved you since I first saw that beauty of a smile.” 

The two of you whisper promises and secrets as the gunfire dies down, lips making up for all of the times you should have kissed before and now don’t have the time to. Eyes don’t leave each other as the blood keeps flowing into two large pools of crimson sin. You’re drowned in it—flooded in it. 

You should have told him sooner.

“I’ll find you,” you whisper, eyes fluttering. But the body is long cold. 

You let your muscles loosen as the last of the fight leaves. Content, even in this, but for the simple fact that John’s arms are around you forever in this moment of endless infinity. The sky rolls back, and your last view is of him.

—

In the snow, preserved by the elements even weeks later, they would find your bodies, curled amongst themselves as if to protect one another. They would say that it had been because you were cold, freezing, and bleeding out from your wounds that you’d huddled for comfort. But that wasn’t the truth. 

The two of you had never been warmer than when you were with the other. 

What they couldn’t account for were the twin smiles on frosty lips.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[justwonder113]

Sleepy Minho has me!! Can you write a drabble about him coming home from like dance practice or something and he's just super tired and wants to cuddle with his s/o??

Your writes are Hella cute, love you! ❤️

Oh my God I'm so glad you like my writing, it means a lot to me!!! Also, thanks for requesting, words can not describe how much I loved writing this, sleepy Lee Know has me in different kind of chokehold❤️❤️❤️❤️

Also I'm really sorry it took me eons to write this. I really hope you'll like it❤️❤️

My Masterlist

WARNINGS⚠️ : Gender neutral reader, Some cursing. I don't know whar else to put here. If I missed something please tell me.

You were jolted awake from your sweet sluber by a most adorable but also really heavy furball jumping on your stomach. Soonie looked at you with curious eyes, unphased as if he didn't just crush your insides. The fluffball sure as hell knew you didn't have a bone in you to get mad at him. "What is it baby? Are you hungty or do you want to play?" Soonie meowed at you. Trying not to startle the cat you carefully straightened up. How long were you asleep? Your whole body felt sore. You searched for your phone and once you saw the time your eyes almost popped out. Where the hell was Minho? You jumped up from the sofa, not realy paying mind to Soonies disspleased whine. You quickly dialed your boyfriend's number and waited for him to answer, but he didn't so you tried again for a few times but to no avail. You knew he was extremely busy these days and that his schedule was hogged but he was supposed to be home a while ago! Also, the fact that he didn't say or text you anything made you worry even more. God why did you have to fall asleep? All you remembered was that after finishing up witch chores you sat down to take a breather. How did you even manage to fall asleep just like that? What if something had happened? Why wasn't he picking up? Should you call Chan? Maybe he knows something? You were starting to borderline panick when you heard the cats meowing at the door. They always did that when Minho was at the door. And in seconds you did hear the door click.

You quickly went to him and wrapped your arms tightly around him. He stumbled for a second but quickly returned the hug. "Hey baby." His voice was soft and quiet but it was apparent that he was really tired. He must have overworked himself again. You loved how dedicated and hardworking he was , but it also killed your heart to watch him neglect his needs to achieve perfection. He spent countless hours at work, barely slept and mostly had quick meals which mostly consisted of takeout. You tried to be as accommodating as possible. You did most of the chores in house, and whenever you had time you tried to make him nutritious lunch. But you could do so much.

You couldn't help but pout at him. "Where were you? You didn't even pick up your phone. I was really worried about you!" You couldn't hide your frustration anymore. "You're coming home later and later everyday. You barely sleep or eat! I'm not even going to start talking about how we barely see each other! You need to take care of yourself more baby, you should..." Minho didn't let you finish your ramble, he slid his hand from around your back to your neck and quickly pulled you towards him so he could kiss you. The kiss even though was short was so full of love and yearning that it almost made you melt. Good thing Minho was basically holding you or you would have fallen. "I'm sorry love, training lasted more than usual." Fuck, what were you even mad about? Minho's soft voice always made you weak in the kneez. Also the way he called you love? Bless your heart for lasting this long and not just randomly exploding on you. Little shit surely knew what he was doing to you.

Minho's voice bought you back to reality "Can we go to bed?" "Wait you're not hungry?" The disapproval in your voice made him smile. "I ate at work I promise. I'll take a quick shower. I want to go to bed cuddle you and just exist with you okay?" He paused for a second before bashfully adding sweetest please. Oh he said please there's no way uou could sat no to him. Not that you could, not to that offer. You wanted to tease him for showing his soft side for you but you decided against it once you looked into his eyes. He looked at you with such eyes, he could ask you to kill a man and you'd actually do it. You couldn't put it to words but you knew that he needed you and you were going to be here for him. It really hurt seeig him this tired and overworked. You knew he tried his best not to show it, every day despite being tired as hell he tried to help you with everything he could, be there for you even though he was the one who needed support now. His eyes were red and not sparkly as you're used to. His dark eyebags were prominent. He was a bit shouched and a bit paler. Seing him this vulnerable was like a dohble hit for your heart.

"Of course love. Get ready for bed, I'll put away food and I'll be back." You kissed his cheek and urged him to the bathroom.

You tried to take care of everything as fast as possible. You felt proud of yourself that you took care of most of the chores today. You praised yourself that you changed sheets and brought out new fluffy blankets.

Maybe you were being a bit selfish but it kind of excited you that you could finally spend some time with your boyfriend. You really missed spending time with him, not just existing in the same space. Whenever he came home he always fell asleep and you didn't have the heart to not let him rest little time he spent at home. It was natural you were feeling touchstarved.

You rushed to the bedroom as fast as possible once you were done. The sight almost made you squeal by sheer cuteness. Minho had almost completely covered himself in blankets and now was looking at you with sleepy eyes. The cats also took their designated places on the bed also looked at you as if waiting for you. Maybe you were a little delusional about the last part but wise people say delulu is the solulu.

Minho immediately opened his arms for you, lifting the cover for you to crawl in. You immediately jumped in, finally feeling content being between his arms, feeling his warmth, his familiar scent surroung you. Minho also hummed in satisfaction. "I've missed this so much" you couldn't help but admit. "Please tell me you don't have anything tomorrow and that we can just be in house all day." You looked up at him with hopeful eyes. You saw the corner of his mouth slightly lift up. He leaned down and literally kissed your pout away, not that you could actually be mad at him.

"I'm sorry baby, I have to go in the morning. But I promise I will be back before you even wake up. I will also bring you some breakfast and we can do whatever you want okay? I'm all yours." You couldn't help but beam with joy. Finally he has some time off. "So you're telling me I can make you do anything? Be careful all this power might go up to my head." You quietly spoke as you played with his hair, Minho only hummed. Instead of talking he fully turned to you and hid his face in the crook of your neck, tightly holding you close by your waist.

Sleepy Minho surely was your favourite. He always got like 100 times more squishy and adorable. Literally you had to have patience of a God to not pounce on him and civer his face with kisses. Maybe not only kisses. His cheek was so cutely smushedand his slightly open prettiest pouty lips? You were just a human! You really didn't want to disturb him or else you would have chomped on his squishy cheek eons ago. Cuteness aggression really was eating you from the inside.

"Baby go to sleep. I can feel you staring." Minho grumbled out after a while. So he was awake huh? You couldn't help but smile. You slid your hand through his hair and started playing with his soft locks. Minho immediately leaned into the touch. You were sure he would start purring if he could.

"It's not my fault love." You admitted and softly kissed his cheek. " I've been starved of my boyfriend for days, and now you're here cuddling me looking all pretty and cute! And here I am being generous and letting you sleep on me while all I want is to literally cover you with kisses! And this is the thanks I get?" Based on the silence that followed you thought that he fell asleep, but you were proven wrong when he held your waist tightly with one hand while the other held onto your thigh, and soon enough you were on top of him looking into his mischevious eyes. Apart from his sparkling eyes his lazy grin was also a clear indicator that he was up to no good.

"What are you doing?" You couldn't help but ask.

"First of all you need to spend less time with Hyunjin. Also to answer your question, I'm being a good boyfriend. My partner just said that they want to cover me with kisses. Who am I to oblige?" You were the one who spent too much time with Hyunjin? What was up with these theatrics then? You couldn't help but grin at his lovable but also really silly antics. " You're annoying do younknow that?" You muttered against his lips, softly holding his cheeks. Minho moved his hands and put them on top of yours. "Shut me up then." He didn't even wait for you to say anything, he just leaned in and connected his lips to yours, slowly but surely melting your thoughts away. God you really loved this idiot.

[ccswife]

Scoring Love

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pairing๛: kate martin x bballplayer!reader

synopsis๛: playing basketball with your bestfriend has its perks.

warnings๛: angst if u squint? fluff!

requested by @rimunagenius <3

kinda proofread

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listen to this while reading if u want :D

Laborious. thats the only way you could describe todays practice. coach bluder was in a particularly snotty mood, as she was very disappointed in the performance you guys put up game against rutgers yesterday . you lost count of the amount of full court suicides everyone has done so far. all you could think about was the cold shower you were gonna take after this was over. looking over at the clock on the score board, the time reads 8:17am— which means there's roughly thirteen minutes left of practice.

"Y/L/N!" coach bluder suddenly screams from across the court, clearly angry. "ARE YOU SERIOUSLY LOOKING AT THE CLOCK RIGHT NOW? WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THAT?!" bluders bone-chilling yell eco’s for what seems like eons. everyone turns to look at you, some with an empathetic look and others with annoyance as this definitely meant that the team was gonna run 5 more full court suicides.

“i- im sorry it was absent minded” you cringe on the inside after speaking up, knowing that a) she would just continue to yell about the time b) make you run more without saying anything more than a shake of the head or c) turn it into a lesson of basketball and strategy. it ended up being option c. bluder started to talk, sorry- yell about how everyone was too busy being absent minded on the court during lower competition games, and how every game is important no matter how much you win by and blah blah blah. you kinda tuned it out after she said the phrase “locked in” for the fifth time. it seemed that some of the other girls started to zone out as well, mostly the starters. the bench players didn’t dare to tune her on-going speech out, in fear of potentially being picked on extra since they dont play as much. which, kudos to them! they took it very seriously. that doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t care, but you knew she wouldn’t consider taking you off the starting line-up unless you did something so unfathomably stupid. you meant too much. you, were the tape. and the tape needed glue.

practice finished at exactly 9:00am, bluder keeping you guys in the gym an extra thirty minutes. this actually wasn’t that bad, considering one time she was SO angry that she held you guys two extra hours. everyone hit the showers and got home as fast as they could, not wanting to stick around any longer then they already had. you ended up being one of the last to shower, though. you felt kind of guilty for practice, so you let some underclassman and bench players go in before you. that being said, it wasn’t just you who felt guilty. your best friend did too. kate martin, the one and only #20 let some girls go in-front of her too and ended up being the only one with you. but this was pretty usual— being together i mean. you two were peas in a pod, birds of a feather, partners in crime! it had been that way since forever.

sounds of running water and the opening/closing of bottles filled the echoey bathroom as you and kate showered (not together, reader. get ur mind out of the gutter). even though the silence was given due to the situation, you were content. sometimes the two of you didn’t need words to communicate, and just the silence did what you needed. kate cleared her throat,

“y/n? you’re there still right?” her voice soft and seemingly- worried? you’ve heard this tone before, right before she told you she failed a test you helped her study for. it was her ‘please dont be mad at me’ voice. “ yea im here still, whats up k? the last time you sounded like that is when you told me you failed the anatomy test.” you continued to suds up your hair, waiting for kate to reply.

“well soooo i have to ask you something,” she sounded completely different now, like she was about to get a new puppy. it was honestly quite adorable— but that sentence stopped you right in your tracks. ‘ask me something??’ multiple scenarios reeled through your mind before you could answer, and kate (growing impatient) spoke up again. “helllooooo? aw dont tell me you already got out” quickly you replied with enthusiasm, to cover up your worry for what was about to come out of her mouth. “ nono! what d’ya have to ask me? my ring size? because it’s a 6. but i dont think bluder would like me playing with a rock on my finger, just saying” kate snorted from her shower. you guys have joked about getting married for years now, and you even made a pact so that if you both aren’t married by thirty, you’ll marry eachother. after snickering to yourself, you shut off the shower and wrapped yourself up into a towel. kate continued to shower and took a beat before finally popping the question (marry me?). “i have this event i have to go to right? its a reunion type of thing with me and my teammates from highschool,”

“my teammates and i” you interjected. she hates when you correct her grammar.

“ yea yea whatever, so basically we all have an option of bringing a plus one and all of them are bringing their girlfriends and some boyfriends.” again you cut her off. “k are you asking me to be your pretend girlfriend?” you were genuinely freaking out, and thank the lord above you got out and got dressed before her because boy if she saw the look on your face….sheesh. kate shut the shower off and continued frantically. “no! not at all! i just dont wanna be the only person without a plus one, and who better to bring than my googly bear?” she laughed at her own joke and stepped out in fresh clothes, brushing her hair while walking towards you. you giggle at the nickname and blow a kiss at her. she catches it, and places in on her cheek. “ of course, my baby boo! what time is this event?” she shows a toothy smile, the one she always does around you and grabs your hand. she starts rubbing the palm of your hand and answers “ 7:00pm, my queen. i’ll pick you up at 6?” your lip curls as you slap her hand away. “we live together, you doofus” kate makes a surprised face and jumps up. “ no way?! seriously!? omg thats so fun! lets go home!!!”. you share a laugh before picking all your stuff up to go home to your shared apartment.

the rest of the day goes normally, running errands, eating, studying together and picking out clothes for this reunion thing. the clock strikes 5, and you start to get ready. kate said its semi-formal, so you pick out a gray babydoll dress, with wedges that weren’t too tall. they made you taller, obviously, but not too tall were you were above kates height. she likes that you’re shorter than her, says that it boost her ego. anyways, you curl your hair and put on a natural layer of makeup— natural enough where it wasn’t too heavy but not were you couldn’t tell you were wearing anything. spraying some perfume, and taking a handbag from your closet, you check the clock and head out to the living room. kate is sitting on the couch on her phone, in a black blazer and pants, with a white crop underneath it. shes manspreading and good god does she look good. before you walked all the way in, you stood there and gawked for a second. breathing a little too loud, kate looks up and notices you standing there. now its her turn to gawk, because ohhhh the things she could say to you right now. it almost brought her down to one knee.

she gets up and makes her way over to you. “y/n,” she places a hand on your waist, pulling you just a little closer. the two of you lock eyes and she smirks. “you look so beautiful, im serious” her smile only widens as you blush. “ ohh stopppp” you lean your head against her shoulder, grabbing her bicep and giggle, slightly lifting your leg up. kate steps back and admires you some more while you look around. she admires how the wedges you wear perfectly accentuate the muscles in your legs from years of basketball and hard work, how your makeup perfectly compliments all of your features, and how the curls in your hair frame your face so gorgeously. she seriously could kiss you right now, hell— she had to stop herself from smothering you when she grabbed your waist. checking the time again, you realize its six, and you usher kate out to the car so you can beat traffic. when you arrive, you see some of kates old teammates and their partners standing at the front, waiting for everyone to arrive. you all make your greetings, and kate introduces you to everyone.

upon going in, you find that one of the girls made a reservation and you were immediately sat down. kate lets you slide in first, and slides in next to you, making sure your leg is touching hers. conversation continues, all talking about how their college experience was and how jobs are, etc. etc. eventually appetizers were ordered and one of the girls, anna, asks all of the couples how they are. when anna gets to you two, she says “ and you two? are you a couple?” she had the sweetest smile on her face as she asked. before you could answer, kate blurts out “yes! we are”

you immediately kick her leg under the table, keeping a smile on your face. anna continued around the table and crinkle your nose at kate. in a low whisper, you say in her ear “ i thought i wasn’t going to be your pretend girlfriend, martin” she side eyes you but is unable to answer as another girl asks her a question about basketball. quickly, you stand up and excuse yourself to the restroom. shortly after you go in, a knock is heard on the door. its kate, of course.

“y/n please open it, i need to talk to you,” you stand there for a second before she speaks through the door again. “you’re not seriously angry right? i didn’t mean to say that i swear, it just came out.” you let out a loud sigh before unlocking the door, letting her in and locking it again— just incase. kate looks at you and starts to explain. “ i dont know why i said that and im soooo sorry. i guess i felt pressured to have a girlfriend so i just said it was you. i know i told you you wouldn’t be my pretend girlfriend and i meant that, but this was not supposed to happen” you stare back at her, thinking of what to say. were you angry? sure, a little. but your real problem was that she wasn’t your actual girlfriend, and that she acted like one and hell! even called you her girlfriend but shes too pussy to actually ask you to be official! i mean seriously. you guys constantly joke about dating and getting married, and you guys act so coupley, how has she not gotten the hint? finally , you decide to speak up. “are you that oblivious kate? do you really not know why im actually mad?” she stares at you with a “idk” look amd shrugs her shoulders, sticking her tongue into the side of her mouth as she thinks. “ im mad because— because! you act like my girlfriend and we even make jokes about dating and shit, and you still dont see how i feel about you! i love you kate!! and not platonically like we’ve been saying it for all these years!” tears start to stream down your face, this conversation being long awaited by you. “i just, cant understand why you wont make it official! unless i’ve completely read you wrong, which im sure i didn’t because i know you like the back of my hand, i think the feelings are requited!” now the tears are really coming down. you lean against the sink and put your face in your hands, trying to hide and wipe the tears off your wet cheeks. kate stands still before lifting your head up. now you see shes crying, too. “of course i love you more than platonically, y/n. i’ve never loved someone so much, and if i could marry you right now i would. i just didn’t know if you loved me back. you know how i get in my head. and i couldn’t go to you to help me because then i’d have to tell you everything.” now shes cupping your cheek in her hand, and the two of you are staring into each other’s glistening eyes. again, she puts her hand on your waist and smiles. “ y/n , please please please accept my apology…” she takes a pregnant pause before continuing, your eyebrows raise in curiosity. “ and…. will you, officially, be mine?” you laugh, and more tears come out. grasping her arms, you whisper-cry “yes, yes of course kate” she pulls you in closer and kisses you, hard and passionately. nothings ever felt so good before. it may seem cliche, but sparks flew in that tiny restaurant bathroom.

kate pulls away and kisses you on the forehead. “ im gonna go tell them we have to take a rain-check, the you’re not feeling well, alright love?” shes never looked so beautiful than when shes calling you love and actually means it.

“of course, my googly bear” you smile sweetly at her, and she pulls you in for one more kiss before going out to tell the other girls that you’re leaving. you slide against the wall a little bit, and touch your lips.

gosh, you really scored at love, didn’t you?

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A/N q(❂‿❂)p : AHHHHH!!!!!! I REALLY LIKE THIS ONE HEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEE! rimunagenius i hope you like this i tried my best with the request you gave! i know its not rlly that basketbally lmao 😔myb. im actually lowkey proud of myself guys 😌👊. let me know what you guys think! also send more requests for other people (and kate too but other people as well lollll). thats it. googbye hamsters in my phone <3. TOODLES

[cinnaminsvga]

Harana Preview | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, fluff, angst → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, so much yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: anticipated 10-15K → a/n: what da hell who is she... HEY SO its been a while since ive written anything longer than 2k words and i really wanted to get back into writing, if only for practice... plus this is part of my heart full of hugot series that i teased literally eons ago and i want to finish it before the year ends... pray for my sanity ( ; ω ; )

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture. 

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt. 

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat. 

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk. 

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you continue, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence. 

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and purse your lips uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away. 

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door. 

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice. 

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off. 

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note. 

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you. 

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole. 

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero. 

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation. 

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

[gigi-loveless]

uuuuuu you know what i just thought???? party scene w/ hazel and then them going home together n gettin nasty if u know what i mean….. and maybe some fluff at the end like hazel taking drunk!reader’s makeup off cause it was running…… anyways!!!!! 🪙

y’all are TOO GOOD

the beat of XXX by kim petras pulses through your body, consuming you as you attempt to take, what was it, your fifth shot? or the sixth? whatever. all you knew was that it felt good, but what felt even better was your girlfriends slender arm thrown over your shoulder, pulling you closer to her on the couch, whilst she takes a swig of beer. you’ve been aching for her to dance with you all night, but let’s be real, hazel isn’t really a show-off type. she’s more of the type at parties to be the smoke sesh leader, but you absolutely don’t mind since that means you get to watch her veiny hands work on joints all night.

finally, after what seems like eons, your best friends finally show up. before you even know it, you’re being peeled from hazels touch by brittany and isabel and out onto the makeshift dance floor on the patio, her rugged voice calling out for you.

“come on, haze! it’ll be fun!”

assuming the girl stayed with her stoned friends, the three of you groove to the music, laughing and trading your vapes.

“miss me?”

two very familiar hands snake around your waist from behind you, and the grin that spreads onto your face is absolutely wicked.

“seems like you’re the one who missed me.”

ass up against her crotch, you grind into her provocatively. i mean, of course you know what this leads to, but you’re far too drunk to process anything beyond her sharp breath on your neck, hands still anchored on your hips. lord knows the poor girl can’t dance, but you don’t mind taking the lead as long as it means you can be close to her. clouds of smoke trickle in from behind you as hazel takes another drag from her joint, blowing it just past your ear. a groan erupts from the poor girl, and you can tell the zipper of her jeans is creating a little friction.

“maybe…let’s get out of here. yeah?”

your hand in hers, she escorts you out of the sea of intoxicated students and back to your house, making sure to keep her arm tucked safely around you in the uber home (she knows how scared you are of them, especially when not sober).

as soon as the door shuts, her muscles flare as she pins you up against the door, pawing at your skirt.

“you are so damn naughty.”

“i know. whatcha gonna do about it?”

you know exactly what she was going to do about it. her cherry red strap comes out, and quickly you’re sucking her off, while she groans from the bullet vibrator pinned to her clit by the tight harness. tears stream down your face, mascara running, but no thoughts are occurring in your head, only the beauty that is hazel callahan. the quivering girl turns pale and bucks up one last time into your throat as she reaches her climax. all that drool you left on the strap is quickly being thrust into your cunt, hazels grumbles and mewls giving you all the motivation to finish all over her precious strap on.

“hey…you okay?” she ponders as she puts the strap down and scurries towards you. “fuck…did i do that?”

“mm…? mhm….” drunkenly murmuring to her.

“ohmygodimsosorry ohmygod…uhm. okay. wait here, okay?” she disappears behind your doorway, and the sounds of cabinets opening and closing are faint.

“okay, first let’s get this makeup off.” her hands are so tender, making sure to gently scrub every last inch of your makeup off for you. she knows just how important your skincare routine is for you, and hell, if you can’t do it, she certainly won’t say no to taking 10 minutes touching and staring at your face.

“haze…”

“yeah? is something wrong?”

“no…” you giggle as she pumps your serum into her hand and mixes it up with your moisturizer, emulating what she’s seen you do dozens of times.

“you know babe, you looked really, really gorgeous tonight…i-i mean every night…but right now, i think you look the prettiest.”

cheeks red, you turn from your girlfriend and shake your head no, and she pulls your chin back to face her.

“yes.”

after she’s done applying your skincare, she notices you shivering, and surrenders her hoodie to you with a smile on her face, knowing that when she gets it back two months later it’ll smell like you. cuddling up to you in bed, she spoons you, her body heat radiating. with a sweet kiss to your temple, your body submits to its surroundings, melting into her touch.

“love you haze.”

“love you most.”

[cakerybakery]

Lying in the rubble of the hotel, Adam tried to catch his breath as Lucifer cuddled into his side.

He was already feeling sore. He wasn’t young anymore. When was the last time he was bent over in such a way? Centuries if not longer.

“Fuck, man.”

“Hmm.”

“This is exactly why you’re not supposed to show up to the exterminations.”

“You tried to kill my daughter.” Lucifer ran his hand through Adam’s chest hair, tugging a little on a couple of the hairs purposely. “What was I supposed to do?”

Adam winced, “yeah, yeah. I really just wanted to scare her off from this stupid idea. She’s making waves, Lucifer. You know how heaven feels about waves.”

“I think she might be onto something.” Lucifer’s hands soothed the skin where he had tugged to punish Adam. “I’m not sure it’ll work how she thinks…”

“But?”

Lucifer sighed and sat up. “But, if the exterminations were good, why are they hidden from heaven? Maybe trying to redeem souls is the answer.”

“Waves, Lucifer. It’s how you ended up down here. Why couldn’t you two just do what you were supposed to?” Adam groped for his robe.

It was the same argument they had been having for eons. It never changed.

They never changed.

Lucifer pulled on his shirt and Adam tried not to look at pissed off look that was always on Lucifer’s face when this topic came up.

“I’m not going to apologize for-“

“Trying something new! I fucking know!” Adam pulled his pants on and spared a brief glance to watch Lucifer’s white ass disappear behind his pants. “I know what you wanted to do. We have this argument every fucking time. She’s making waves and Sera wants it dealt with. So you either need to make a real case and have some real proof or someone worse than me is going to show up and do a lot worse.”

“Sera can suck my dick.”

“I can think of worse things to suck.” Adam said before his brain had a chance to stop him.

Lucifer paused putting his vest on and snorted. “I know we don’t agree on much-“

“That, we can agree on.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, “But, we both know this isn’t going to end well for someone. And I don’t want that someone to be my kid. She’s all I have left. If something happens to her, I am going to FUCK heaven.”

Adam pull Lucifer’s jacket from the chuck of rebar it had been flung on and tossed it at Lucifer. “You mean you’re going to fuck up heaven.”

“No. What I’ll do to heaven is the equivalent of sticking my dick in it and screwing it so hard it’ll never walk straight again. I am going to fuck heaven if anything happens to my daughter.” Lucifer finished buttoning his jacket and straightened his hat. “I know every sensitive part of heaven and every one of my angelic siblings weaknesses. And I can play them like a god fucking damned fiddle. I did it every time I wanted something they tried to deny me.”

Lucifer easily climbed a seemingly sheer wall of rubble, his boots in hand, to be eye level with Adam. He pulled Adam into a quick, bruising kiss then let him go.

“I chose to protect Lilith instead of fighting back. And back then I could have taken out a few of them on the way down. Heaven is right that souls equal power. But it’s not just pure numbers in a war. Every soul in this god forsaken place, sinner or hell-born, is tied to me.” Lucifer straighten out Adam’s robe from where he had gripped him. “Even those you kill, their souls remain mine. And reside inside of me.”

His head tried to add up how many souls were in hell currently and had been in hell before being slaughtered, but math wasn’t his strength so the total he came up with was a fuck ton.

“They’ll be wondering where we are. Be smart, Adam. Take your angels and go before I do something only I’ll live to regret.”

Lucifer kissed him again and his mouth burned against Adam’s. A show of the power at Lucifer’s command. Adam’s knees nearly buckled under the weight of the souls fuelling Lucifer’s angelic core.

He could feel their screams as they burned. The claws along his jaw as Lucifer held his face. The tongue that tasted his soul, tempting it to joined the others within Lucifer.

Adam wretched away with a gasp and stumbled back.

It was easy to forget under that silly hat and outfit was the king of hell, a fallen angel that had once sat by God’s side, someone heaven could only just contain not destroy. Someone who was obviously humouring heaven’s containment for his own reasons.

Lucifer stood atop the broken wall looking down at Adam with a sharp smile. Fear rocked Adam’s core. Adam had let himself be lulled into forgetting that behind that goofy silly man Lucifer acted like was a demon of incredible power.

“Run, Adam. Run before I decide to keep you.” Lucifer’s voice was bitter, as though he wanted to keep Adam anyways.

Adam scrambled to his feet, to his wings. He shot up from the depth of the rubble and surveyed the battle. His girls were loosing, badly.

Calling for a retreat, he waited by the portal for everyone to limp through.

Lucifer watched him, perched from the broken sign, a look of longing etched in his demonic face.

It messed with Adam’s head and he was tempted to turn back. It was a reminder he couldn’t trust the devil. He fled through the portal and closed it securely behind him.

Watching Adam go was hard. But heaven was coming after his kid. Heaven needed a reminder that he didn’t so much fall as leave.

This would likely be the last time he ever got to be with Adam. He wished it last longer, that he had savoured their last time more.

He had always been fond of Adam. But his kid needed protection, she needed him. Charlie was his priority.

If he had to give up Adam to get heaven to take Charlie’s ideas seriously, to put heaven back in their place by him, then he would do it.

Lucifer’s heart ached.

He didn’t like it, but he would do it.

[prettyinpwn]

How Gravity Falls Could Have Been Better + Poor Ford and Wendy (GF Writing Analysis Pt. 2)

GF Writing Analysis Series: Pt. 1 - Ford Pines: A Masterclass in Writing a Good Flawed Character Praise the Axolotl, I feel horrible just writing that title. But let me preface this post with three statements:

I've been in this fandom since the first episode aired. I participated in this fandom while it was airing, and I will always cherish this fandom, those memories, and Gravity Falls itself even when I'm a crusty old lady in a rocking chair someday.

Gravity Falls is still my favorite show of all time, even as someone now nearing thirty years old. Nothing's ever topped it since in my mind, and I don't think anything ever will for me.

Writing and making a show is hard. It's easy for me to sit here and smash my little lady hands on a keyboard and criticize the Gravity Falls writing team's decisions. I'm sure if I'd been on that team, I'd have done a lot worse under that burnout and pressure, and I doubt I'll ever write anything anywhere near that critically acclaimed or beloved.

But... every time I've watched Gravity Falls from beginning to end, I've always felt that there was something off. And in recent rewatches, after I'd studied creative writing in college as a part of my minor, plus just having studied and done a lot of writing in my free time for years... I found out finally what it was:

The flaw, in my opinion, is the pacing. Gravity Falls is - and I mean this in the most respectful way to the writers, and I'm saying this as someone who will praise this show to my grave - poorly paced overall.

So what do I mean by that? Each contained episode is tightly written and nearly flawless in the pacing, but the overarching plot? I'll describe it like this: Picture a rollercoaster starting on a very, very slow incline. The scenery on the way up is gorgeous and entertaining to look at, but damn, you want to get to that peak that was teased in the advertisement of the ride. That first tease is what keeps you going on the slow incline. You know you're going to get there, but...

Okay, we're focused on getting accustomed to the seat, the people around us, how this rollercoaster feels, but... you check your watch. Are we there yet? What about that peak that was advertised? No, it's still a glacial incline. You inch upwards. It's godawful slow. You wait - and for those of us who watched when it aired during the hiatuses (which were more Disney's fault than the core team's, to my understanding) - it takes months to years.

Jesus Christ, you think. What about that tease? I want to know what's at that peak! Yes, I get tension and slow buildup, but this is taking FOREVER, and there have been no glimpses of the peak for eons. And then... suddenly, it gets more intriguing. There's a little bump. And another. And finally... there's another hint of the peak that you saw teased all the way back in the Stone Age.

Now, the ride consistently offers you little fun hills after that long, slow first incline. But seconds later BOOM! You skyrocket to that peak so fast your facial skin is flapping behind you. WOO! This is a blast! But holy hell, this is going a little fast compared to what it was like before. The last third of this ride must be MINDBLOWING, with lots of loops and spins and turns and even greater thrills, right?

And then the ride just drops almost face first to a plateau again. There are no more bumps, really. No loops. No twists. Just an almost straight, logical line back to Earth. Half the ride was pretty and made you laugh a lot despite how long it took, but the other half of the ride went so fast in comparison that it was just a blur. You're at the finish line now. Yes, it concluded like it was supposed to, but... is that it?

Rollercoaster metaphor over with, that's the pacing of Gravity Falls. For a more detailed visual example:

(Note - each episode is listed by their overall number. For example, 1 is Tourist Trapped, the peak at 31 is Not What He Seems, and the finale Weirdmageddon episodes are 38-40. Also, this is a rough, subjective view of the pacing tension, but generally... episodes that hinted or contributed to the overarching plot and tension earned higher points, and ones that added almost nothing besides comedy and character development that didn't necessarily add to the overarching plot were lower. The Weirdmageddon episodes are at a plateau since they - as finale episodes - serve to create as much tension as they do resolving it.)

Now, there are no hard and fast rules in writing, and every writer plots differently, but generally, this is the kind of pacing tension that's considered "good" (and that most common outlining techniques follow, just in different forms):

(Credit - please check out this page for a full explanation of each act.)

Generally, the trend is slow buildup. There's no plateau for eons, BOOM, then faceplant, like Gravity Falls. So that gets us to my main thesis of this post, building on what I bolded before:

Gravity Falls was too short because it's a three act story squished into a two act structure; the first season is paced like they were expecting three seasons - a season for each story act - and the second season is paced like they had to quickly fit the last two acts into one.

Why do I say this? Because there's a common writing plot point called the Midpoint / Plot Twist. So for those unfamiliar with writing techniques, let's explore what a Midpoint is:

"The Midpoint occurs at the 50% mark, halfway through the Second Act and (obviously) halfway through the book itself. Although many writers neglect the Midpoint in comparison to more noted moments such as the First Plot Point or Climax, the Midpoint is arguably the most significant beat within the story. It is what director Sam Peckinpah called the “centerpiece” of the entire story. Everything hangs upon it. In many ways, it is the moment that decides the ultimate fate of the story." "The Midpoint will feature at least one, possibly more, momentous revelations. Within the primary character arc and thematic exploration, the protagonist will encounter a Moment of Truth that forever changes his or her view of the story’s central philosophy. This revelation, perhaps in partnership with a further external revelation about the nature of the conflict itself, will forever evolve how the protagonist approaches the conflict—on both a personal and practical level. It signals a thematic shift from Lie to Truth (or vice versa) and an external shift from ineffective “reaction” to increasingly effective “action.” (Credit).

"But PrettyinPwn!", I hear you protest. "Gideon Rises is the episode smack dab halfway through the story and seasons! And that has a big reveal. And we learn a truth about Stan."

Yes, my sweet friends. Gideon Rises - and the reveal of what Stan's hiding in the basement - is a revelation, but the way the first season is paced, in my opinion it's what writers refer to as the First Act climax or Break Into Two. The Break Into Two is:

"Main character makes a choice and to go on the journey, and our adventure begins. We leave the “Thesis” world and enter the upside-down “Anti-thesis” world of Act Two."

(Credit).

Traditionally, this Break Into Two is literally stepping into a new world. Harry Potter getting to Hogwarts. Katniss Everdeen getting to the Capitol. Yadda yadda. But in Gravity Falls, it's more subtle:

We go from the "ordinary" world of Gravity Falls in Season 1 / Act 1 (which is anything but ordinary, but you get the point) where things are bizarre but lighthearted, to the "new" world of Gravity Falls in Season 2A / Act 2 where things are bizarre and definitely not lighthearted anymore. We've started to see the dark underbelly of this strange place and family, the seriousness ramps up, and... lo and behold... a B STORY pops up right at this point in full force, just like B Stories typically do right during or after the Break Into Two point. And that B Story? Is Stan's work on the portal and his search to find Ford, which was teased in the hook, all the way back at Tourist Trapped.

So no, Gideon Rises is not the real story Midpoint. The real story Midpoint is this nerd:

Let's look at those two plotline graphs again; Gravity Falls' and the typical one you see with three act structures:

Yes. Ford's reveal / Not What He Seems should have been smack dab near halfway through the series. But it's not. It marks the 75% point instead. Technically, if we follow the idea that the Midpoint should be roughly around 50% through the story, Not What He Seems should have taken place near where Gideon Rises is in the episode roster, and Gideon Rises should have been halfway through Season 1 (roughly near Fight Fighters).

So what caused this? Oh boy, I'm getting into speculation territory, and I know Hirsch has said it was meant to be this way, but based on the pacing flaws, here's my theory:

Hirsch and team wrote Gravity Falls Season 1 assuming there'd be three seasons; a season for each act of the story. They burned out, so compacted it down to two seasons, and fit all of Act 2 and 3 of the story into Season 2. That's why, at the time the episodes aired, Season 2 was referred to in two halves: Season 2A and Season 2B. Translation? Season 2A is Act 2 and what was supposed to be Season 2 but condensed, Season 2B is Act 3 of the story and what was supposed to be Season 3 but condensed.

TL;DR: In Gravity Falls, Act 1 = 50% of the story, Act 2 = 25% of the story, Act 3 = 25% of the story. AKA poor pacing. The equivalent in, say, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, would be if Harry spent 50% of the story at the Dursley's before getting to Hogwarts.

If Gravity Falls had had three seasons total, the slow buildup in Season 1 would be totally justified, as the first act of most stories takes its time to establish the characters and world. But we instead go from slow plateau to BOOM to faceplant, instead of a slow ride up to the top that consistently raises tension with a few peaks here and there, then a fun, bumpy ride of resolving the tension on the way down.

That's why Season 1 has a little hint of the overarching plot in Tourist Trapped with the Stan vending machine tease at the end of the episode - that's known in writer's circles as the "hook" or promise of the premise - and then literally almost nothing until the end.

I will reiterate: Season 1 is written like the writers thought they had enough time to pace Act 2 and 3 out over the same amount of episodes for each Act.

All this, combined with the fact that Season 2 has some very out of place episodes concerning the tension (*cough* Roadside Attraction *cough*, and no, I don't care that it was retconned later to have made sense), well... yeah.

But this didn't just affect the pacing. It also affected the characters' writing. Wendy barely got developed, Stan and Ford's backstory AKA the B plot got squished into two episodes, the government agents as an antagonist were "defeated" too soon to try to quick switch over to Bill Cipher for Season 2B / Act 3, and the most oof-worthy part? Ford got the short end of the writing stick.

I mentioned in another post that I think Ford is a fantastically written character as a concept, but unlike Stan, Dipper, and Mabel, his good writing relies more on subtext, rushed plotlines, and external materials (Journal 3, mainly). Thematically, as the show focuses on twins, parallelisms, juxtapositions, Ford should have had just as much "let's get to know this character!" focus and time to develop to the viewer as Stan did. But no, he got... what, roughly 4-5 episodes, some of them where his story was only the B plot? Literally, let's count:

Episodes with Stan plotlines: Tourist Trapped, Legend of the Gobblewonker, Headhunters, The Hand That Rocks the Mabel, The Inconveniencing, Dipper vs. Manliness, Irrational Treasure, Boss Mabel, Bottomless Pit, Land Before Swine, Dreamscaperers, Gideon Rises, Scaryoke, Soos and the Real Girl, Little Gift Shop of Horrors, The Love God, Not What He Seems, A Tale of Two Stans, DD&MD, The Stanchurian Candidate, Roadside Attraction, Weirdmageddon 1+3.

Episodes with Ford plotlines: A Tale of Two Stans, DD&MD, The Last Mabelcorn, Dipper and Mabel vs The Future, Weirdmageddon 1+3.

Ford feels like an afterthought. Dipper, Mabel, and Stan get 100% of the story to develop, and Ford gets less than 25%. Also factor in how Ford is the peak the viewer is waiting for, the whole mystery that keeps viewers on their toes for most of the story... and he gets ~5 episodes, and none of those are 100% focused on him.

It's like hosting a multiple course meal promising the main course - the steak - is gonna blow your mind. And then you get it 75% of the way through the meal and it's like... dime sized. It's a damn good little nerd steak, but it's so small, and we ate like three hundred Dipper and Wendy crush and Mabel crush and really well written and funny but effectively filler episode salads on the way here, including ones that weren't even canon (Bottomless Pit and Little Gift Shop of Horrors), interspersed with the occasional hint of steak with episodes like Dreamscaperers. Which would have been fine had there been an equal and increasing amount of steak, but no. To ask an age old question... WHERE'S THE BEEF?

A summary of Ford:

Worse yet, let's compare his introduction to Stan's introduction.

Stan (in Tourist Trapped): "Heya, I'm a grumpy old conman runnin' a tourist trap, and all I care about is money, but... hey, you kids want something from the Gift Shop?"

Ford (in A Tale of Two Stans): "Greetings, I just returned from sci-fi sideburn land, I'm just going to punch a character - my brother - beloved by the audience in the face after he did something very nice for me, tell my long backstory that kind of makes me look like a douche in multiple ways, plot convenience the antagonist away, then tell said beloved by the audience character / brother to get off my lawn."

No wonder why - after ATOTS aired - lots of people thought Ford was a Class A, prime US Grade, grass fed dick. And to this day, more people seem to love Stan over Ford in the fandom. We get context for his decisions later in... drumroll please... Journal 3. And subtext. Not even an episode.

We THEN understand that Ford punched Stan because of the thirty years of hell he went through, that he was just about to defeat Bill Cipher when Stan activated the portal therefore interrupting him, and Ford was upset that the Shack had made a mockery of his paranormal studies plus Stan had literally stolen his identity, completely turned his house around, and made him look like a conman... so we then have an 'OH!' moment and realize, "Hey, wait a minute, this guy has reasons for what he did. Maybe he was more justified than we thought, or at least as justified as Stan was.".

But not in the show. In a book released after. He is actually equally as well-written as Stan is, in concept. He's a great protagonist with realistic flaws and reasons. But he got a sad little salad in the writing department compared to Stan, Mabel, and Dipper's whole ten course caloric explosion buffet.

So what would have fixed this? Just like the overarching plot's pacing... another season. Season 1 + the first half of Season 2 could have been solving the mystery of Stan, and the second half of Season 2 and Season 3 could have been solving the mystery of Ford.

And that, my friends, is why Gravity Falls is too short.

~

Where does this leave us? Well, er... my next thought is... how would I have written Gravity Falls using the typical pacing progress?

Well, for starters, let's decide this: how many seasons do we want overall? The two options are...

A. Two seasons like it is now, but shorten each story Act.

B. Three seasons, each season is one Act of the story.

If Gravity Falls were just two seasons long in this hypothetical outline, this is what I'd do:

Take out the Dipper/Wendy love subplot. I'm sorry, we all knew while we were watching it that it would go nowhere. I remember watching it as a teen girl as the show aired and being so damn bored with it as a subplot. Especially because... as it stands, most of Wendy's purpose is as Dipper's crush. She never got her own episode.

Put Gideon Rises as Episode 10 instead of Fight Fighters. Make Not What He Seems as the Season 1 finale.

Take out a lot of the "filler" episodes in Season 1. I hate to say this, because I love a lot of the Season 1 episodes. But to pace it better, I'd say order the episodes in Season 1 like this: Tourist Trapped The Legend of the Gobblewonker The Hand That Rocks the Mabel The Time Traveler's Pig Little Dipper Boss Mabel Carpet Diem Land Before Swine Dreamscaperers Gideon Rises Scary-oke Into the Bunker The Golf War Soos and the Real Girl Sock Opera (Any of the "filler" episodes from Season 1 or 2 here) Blendin's Game Society of the Blind Eye Northwest Mansion Mystery Not What He Seems

And as for season 2:

A Tale of Two Stans Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons Then... Here we have a big gap, because we put many Season 2 episodes in Season 1. We squished all that plot into Season 1, so what do we fill episodes 3-17 of Season 2 with? I'll tell you what: More Wendy and more Ford. In this version of the outline, Dipper and Mabel are present characters in every episode, with a special focus on Stan and Soos to a smaller extent in Season 1. So to make it even, I'd make this version of Season 2 have a big focus on Ford and then Wendy to a smaller extent, mirroring how Stan and Soos are focused on in Season 1. And just like the antagonist of Season 1 - Gideon - with a little bit of the government agents, have this season have a few more episodes with the government agents and then Bill as the big final bad.

This gap here gives us ~14 episodes to develop these characters. I also think The Last Mabelcorn should be in here somewhere, so make that 13. If we parallel Season 1, then roughly... Bill should get two episodes as a main antagonist like Gideon did before his finale in Gideon Rises. Wendy should get two episodes as a deuteragonist like Soos did in Season 1.

The Bill episodes could hint more at his backstory like Journal 3 did, have him mess with Ford more and tease at Ford's "sing to me O Muse" backstory with him (because more Ford parallels with Odysseus are always welcome).

The Wendy episodes could delve into the same issues Soos' episodes did: Wendy Episode #1: Her dating issues, but instead of finding someone like Soos did, she's happily single at the end. I vote a plot where Wendy is ready to date again after the Robbie fiasco, Mabel tries to set her up with someone new, tied to a B plot with Ford where Mabel digs into his dating life, finds little to none, and then both Ford and Wendy realize at the end that it's okay to be single and not ashamed of it in a romance obsessed society (also Ford on the ace spectrum ftw, personal headcanon though). Better yet, have it have a kid friendly explanation that some people love differently; actually show that Wendy is Bisexual and Ford is - I'd argue - Ace (or straight or gay but just super bad at relationships because of pouring himself into his work and his other flaws, fear of sharing his baggage with others, etc). Not that Disney would have allowed LGBT+ at that time, because, well... Disney.

This would simultaneously make Wendy A. NOT just a crush figure tied to romance, as female characters often get relegated to, and B. help Ford parallel some insecurities about how he compares himself to Stan, just like Stan compares himself to Ford in the episodes that actually aired, especially if we keep The Stanchurian Candidate as one of the episodes but involve Ford more in it. Have Mabel pull a Jane Austen's Emma and learn to stop being a busybody matchmaker. This idea - in my opinion - is way cooler and less ethically ambiguous than The Love God.

Wendy Episode #2: Her family issues, AKA her dead mother. Make it real tearjerky with a B plot tie to how Stan or Ford never got to see their parents again after the portal accident and before their parents died, and parallel it with Wendy regretting something regarding her mother before she died. This would give us a chance to explore more about Wendy as a character, and both Filbrick / Caryn (AKA Stan and Ford's parents) as characters, as well. I would also lean more towards having her bond with Ford over Stan in this episode. Or, alternatively, you could tie this to Dipper and Mabel and their parents. Because you can't tell me that their parents did NOT have questions about what was going on after Mabel sent that letter home about her "two grunkles".

But why so many Ford with Wendy plots? Because Soos is already the Shack employee tied a lot to Stan, so to parallel, you could have Wendy bond more with Ford. At first glance, this seems like it'd be an odd duo, but Wendy probably could relate to Ford's experiences of feeling like the responsible one in the family, hiding how much they care about things under a more calm facade, the fact that Wendy's dad built the Shack for Ford, maybe add Wendy having an underlying interest in science or the paranormal that she deadens down to fit in that Ford finds out about and tries to encourage her to not hide anymore to tie in with his theme of "it's okay to be weird". You could do a million things with Ford and Wendy subplots.

So that leaves us with a total of nine other episodes to devote to Ford here in this season space. I mean, picture it... in my original counts of how many episodes Stan vs. Ford got in the real version of the show that aired, Stan had around 23 episodes that featured him.

In this version of the outline, Stan would get 14-15 episodes featuring him. Ford would get 14 episodes featuring him. CHEF'S KISS; EQUAL TREATMENT BY THE WRITING. But what would these episodes be about?

A. More bonding and arc between Dipper and Ford. Dipper would go from "notice me Ford senpai / hyperventilating" to "holy crap the Author is as awesome as I thought he'd be!" to "wait a minute, this guy's got some flaws" to "maybe this isn't who I want to become?" to make Dipper's rejection of the apprenticeship feel more natural and take the blame heat off of Mabel (as the fandom's been eager to place).

If Dipper's reasoning for rejecting the apprenticeship was not just "Mabel needs me" but a combination of "Mabel needs me, Stan needs Ford more than I do, Mabel was right and I don't need the Journals / the Author / Ford to be a hero, and I don't want to become Ford", it'd make a lot more sense. Because thematically, the plot of Gravity Falls resolves BECAUSE Dipper and Mabel don't become Ford and Stan; they avoid the mistakes they made, and in doing so, heal the literal and metaphorical rift. And it also makes more sense for Dipper's character arc, which was always about self-confidence.

That, and I think it'd have been great for Dipper to have had a trust - distrust - trust again arc with Ford like he did with Stan. "Oh, Ford's so cool" to "Ford lied to me about Bill!" to "Ford is flawed, but he's still the great uncle I love now". Put a Dark Night of the Soul in there, where Dipper literally 'Trusts No One!'. Not even Ford. Have him teeter on the precipice of going down Ford's dark path, but Mabel saves him from fully falling into it. And have Ford have a Dark Night of the Soul, where now even Dipper doesn't trust or like him, and so Ford feels totally outcasted by his family like Stan felt years ago.

B. Slower plot twist revelations about Ford's past with Bill Cipher. Start him out reluctant to talk about it, especially in front of Dipper, who views him as a hero that Ford so desperately wants to be. Explore some of his trauma, what his choices have cost him, etc. Hell, I'm pretty sure Ford's got some form of PTSD, so throw a plotline in there about Ford isolating a lot because of it. Of course, since kids are a primary audience of the show, you can't get too dark, but you can't tell me Ford didn't experience some messed up stuff on the other side of the portal.

C. Goddamn, take some of Ford's multiverse explorations from Journal 3 and make them actual episodes. What a wasted opportunity in the show. And it better have Jheselbraum in it, or I riot.

D. More Ford bonding with Mabel. Please, for the love of God, I know Dipper and Ford are nerdtopia buddies, but Ford and Mabel would get along so well. They're both weirdos at heart, sweater twins, the older twins, and love the odd and the artistic. Make a B plot with Stan and Dipper bonding, maybe even after Dipper's loss of respect for Ford, and have Dipper "side" with Stan while Mabel starts to "side" with Ford more, almost getting lost in Stan and Ford's rift themselves. Because goddammit, we're riding this juxtaposition and parallelism and thematic train into the Sun!

E. GIVE FORD MORE MOMENTS TO LOOK LIKE A CARING, SWEET GRUNKLE. Stan got a truckload of chances to shine and for the twins to bond with him. Can... can Ford have the same thing? Please? Here, elevator pitch: Ford being forced to put science away to watch the twins for a day because Stan's busy, he reluctantly agrees, and by the end he's just as much of a softie for them as Stan is. Or have Dipper and Mabel get in trouble, Stan and Ford have to work together to save them; have them sabotage each other, trying to look like the better Grunkle, but then pulling their heads out of their asses and working together reluctantly and realizing they actually have fun on adventures like they used to (which would foreshadow their choice to go on Stan-O-War II adventures later).

F. By God, I don't care if Gideon's already in jail by this point, plot-wise. This boy spent episodes chasing the Author's journals. I need to see the look on his face when he realizes the Author is his arch-nemeses' twin brother / great uncle. Please. Have him start a rivalry with Ford that goes as horribly as you'd expect because Ford would use 30 years of multiverse experience to punt this kid into the next dimension for multiple reasons, one of them being having summoned Bill Cipher, another being having used his journal for nefarious purposes.

G. Don't make the government agents go away so easily. Foreshadow Stan's return of memory in Weirdmageddon 3 with the agents remembering what happened before the memory gun wipe in Not What He Seems, not only to utilize them better as antagonists, but to increase the stakes, and also to make Stan's memories returning later seem more plausible. Have Ford play a part in getting rid of them as a threat.

Or have them switch from antagonists to allies once they realize Bill Cipher is the real threat, but have them fail to neutralize Bill to make him seem that much more insurmountable and the Pines' defeat of him that much more of a feat. To wrap up them as an obstacle, just have them thank the Pines at the end and then have them put forth the whole "Never Mind All That" act and keep the stories of the weirdness contained to Gravity Falls. Have them try to lock Stan and Ford up still, though, but realize that they're gone on the Stan-O-War II trip (which, if that story's ever made into a show, they could serve as continued antagonists chasing after the Stans).

H. More Pacifica. Make her redemption more believable. Give her another subplot in Season 2, maybe following the plotline she had in the Lost Legends comic side story with Dipper. In fact, give her a B plot episode storyline with Ford; have them bond over having had to be perfect golden children with a parent(s) that care way too much about money, and it gives Dipper and Mabel more context and understanding about Ford's struggles. There. It writes itself.

I. More McGucket. I want to see Ford angst more about what happened between them. Then, finally, after all these episodes with The Last Mabelcorn somewhere amongst them... Dipper and Mabel vs. The Future Weirdmageddon 1 Weirdmageddon 2 Weirdmageddon 3

And ta-da! You'd have a version of Gravity Falls with two seasons with more fair attention to Wendy and Ford, more evenly paced tension and plot twists, and an antagonist cycle that goes from town enemy to world enemy to multidimensional enemy. ~

As for a three season version of this outline, keep Season 1 completely as is, make Not What He Seems episode 10 of Season 2, and... this is a bold suggestion, but turn the Season 2 finale into Dipper and Mabel vs The Future and make the Weirdmageddon episodes into a whole season. Make the failure to stop the rift really hurt, and use the whole of Season 3 to have the Pines figure out how to stop the end of the world. Use some of it to rebuild the portal, explore some of the Multiverse to find a solution, have them try to find Jheselbraum to help discover more about Bill and his weaknesses and his previous attempts on Earth to break reality (like Modoc's story in Journal 3, in fact, have an episode where they time travel back to Modoc which would give him inspiration to have drawn the prophecy wheel on the cave wall that Ford found hundreds of years later), gather the whole gang and build the Shacktron, have it fail and have to use the prophecy wheel... But wait, it fails, too, and Bill scatters everyone involved across the Multiverse instead of making them into banners - while also destroying the portal - to buy himself some time to get Ford to give up the solution to breaking free from Gravity Falls. Explore the Multiverse more to gather everyone again, use each episode to devote yet more time to developing each character, parallel Ford's journey in the Multiverse for 30 years. Maybe even have a bit of a subplot where Ford breaks from Bill and tries to rebuild the portal to get everyone back, paralleling Stan's struggle to get him back for 30 years.

Learn more about who Ford was those thirty years he was gone. Use the Multiverse episodes to make Stan sympathize more with what Ford went through for thirty years. Have Jheselbraum reference the whole "you have the face of the one who will destroy Bill" to Stan instead of Ford like she did in the past, and have Stan be confused at first, thinking Ford will be the hero again. Dark Night of the Soul up in this season, man, and make the prophecy wheel fail again, and Stan realize yep, time to brain zap, Jheselbraum was right, but HE'S the one that has to stop Bill, not Ford. And THEN try Stan's conman trick to trap Bill in his mind.

And that's how I'd rewrite Gravity Falls as three seasons.

~

I'll say this: after all that criticism I just laid out, you might think I hate Gravity Falls as it is now. No. I love this show. It won't leave my brainspace and lives there rent-free, like Bill does in Stan's mind. And I will say, I understand 100% why it was written the way it was. They seemed to have had a plan in Season 1, switched gears between seasons, and tried to wrap up two seasons of plot in one season for Season 2.

And they did it with little to no flaws in terms of the overarching plot. They told the story they wanted to. They pulled a Stan and took some shortcuts, but had good intentions and got the job done. And the show is still like... an A- to solid A grade show even with these flaws.

But it could have been nearly flawless and A++ had they either planned for two seasons from the start, or powered through the burnout to make three whole seasons (which is easy for me to say, as someone that didn't have to live through what must have been hair graying levels of stress).

All in all, I'm curious to hear others' thoughts on my critique, or if anyone would like to add more about what they'd put in this hypothetical Season 2 or 3. Or if you'd prefer the two seasons still as they are, or as I hypothetically rewrote them, or as the three seasons idea I explained above. Or if you think I'm just crazy, and that Gravity Falls is perfect as is.

[cococaffeinated]

Hi! I was wondering if you had any little headcanons on Jax, Kinger, and Gangle? Like maybe a story on how they bonded or something like that? Also, have a good rest of your day! I love your art!

I keep thinking about Jax and how he might have potentially gotten his key. It's been a source of so many branching possibilities for headcanons! One of the things I've headcanoned is that maybe Jax had received the key from Queenie just before they abstracted. A little token for "just in case". Drabble below and extra thoughts CW: angst, implied abstractification, mentions of Queenie

┍━☽【❖】☾━┑

Jax frowned as he looked at his hand, a golden key resting upon it; placed there by the dark queen piece that Kinger took a fancy to. It was the middle of the night, or at least Jax assumed it was. When Queenie entered his room, Jax assumed it was morning and he was being fetched for another adventure, but no one was awake yet, except him and the queen. "What is this?" the rabbit asked. Queenie simply smiled, despite the absence of a mouth, it seemed apologetic. "It's a key!" they replied, and Jax rolled his eyes but not with any real annoyance. "Yeah, I know what a key is, Queenie. This place makes people crazy, not stupid." Jax retorted, nervously twirling the heavy metal object in his hand. "What's this for?" 'It couldn't possibly be for an exit. If it had been, then they would have all gotten out by now.' Jax thought to himself. "It's a key that opens what is closed. It's something I won eons ago when Caine would let us ask for things after winning games and adventures." Queenie explains. This gave Jax no form of reassurance, where was this conversation even going? He furrowed his brow. "Okay..." he says slowly, unsure. Holding the key a little tighter now. "Seems, kinda important, don't ya think, toots?" he finished, trying to lighten the now heavy atmosphere of their conversation. Queenie nods their head once, "It is and that's why I'd like you to keep it... In case anything happens to me." With that Jax raised both hands in mock surrender, in disbelief. He laughed darkly as he shook his head.

"No. No, no. We're not having this conversation, Queenie. I'm not hearing this talk, not from you." Jax felt cold, dread sweeping through him. He couldn't imagine Queenie abstracting. Jax knew it could happen, it happens to anybody who so much as slips away too far into their own mind. Abstraction can happen to anybody, and Queenie was no exception to that. But still... It was hard to imagine. "It's just in my nature to take precautions, Jax. I'm not saying goodbye, this is just me making sure that if anything happens to me..." Queenie insisted. "No." "If anything happens to me, I need someone who's equally grounded to check on the others..." "No! No, I'm not listening to this cr#p, take the d$mn key back—" Jax felt Queenie's hands grasp gently onto his shoulders, he didn't realize he was trembling. A fragile silence passed between them. "Please, Jax." "Why me... If anything happened to you, I don't think I can lose Kinger too... And Gangle's not going to..." "Because I know, in your own way, you care for those two as much as I would, Jax. This key can help you go into rooms that are locked. It always starts with isolation, Always. Remember that. If Kinger or Gangle... or god forbid anyone else starts locking themselves away, even in the morning, you be your obnoxious self and charge right in, you understand?" Jax closed his eyes, pained at the thought of what this favor and responsibility entailed. "Jax, I need you to promise me you'll do this... Jax..." --- "Jax!" The rabbit blinked his eyes open, he looked confused and scared for only a fraction of a second before his eyes focused, and he lazily leered down at Gangle who looked up at him with concern. "Pomni was asking you a question..." She pointed out, Jax simply shrugged, his lazy grin stretching as he stretched his sleepiness away. "Mn, oh yeah? Did you, really? You normally whine so much Pomni, I keep thinking you're a squeaky toy NPC passing through." Voices droned away in his mind as the usual lecture from Ragatha about being mean to others carried on. His eyes casually swept to check everyone's attendance. Everyone was present today, ready for a new adventure to start. 'Good.' He thought, the golden key weighing heavy among the items he secretly carried. ┕━☽【❖】☾━┙ Of course, I don't know how Jax might have gotten the key or keys in the first place. I can't wait for the canon explanations (if any) if TADC ever gets a full season (I'm hopeful)!

Chess is one of my favorite games and knowing that queen pieces are powerful in their own right and can move in any direction, I kept thinking about how the key Jax now has could have belonged to Queenie previously.

And Jax's low-key (haha pun intended) checking on everyone who was left in the circus after Queenie abstracted was one of the many ways Jax became even closer to Kinger and Gangle.

But the little drabble above implies I also headcanon that Kinger, Queenie, and Gangle are Jax's cornerstones, his friends that he grew close to. Enough that when Queenie felt herself starting to slip away, she confided to Jax with the responsibility of checking on their remaining loved ones. It's a heavy responsibility but it's neat to think that Queenie knows that Jax has a certain way of coping with his surroundings that ensures that he'll last longer than most.

Also, imagine:

Jax is the one who gives Kinger the idea of making a pillow fort (an impenetrable fortress). To make it in the middle of the circus. If Jax sees Kinger is there, it puts him at ease that Kinger is still there, wearing his madness just as well as he advised him to (in a previous hc-comic I made) when he first arrived in the circus.

[featureenvyproductions]

here’s a bird’s eye view of my comic Eyan Eternal

For people who don't know what it is. Bc I think some of you might find it's right up your alley. Well this is an updated one anyway. I do actually have a volume of this out in print right now, but the low def, basic version is online and complete, and tbh, I just want people to read it. I took almost two years to complete this and quite literally poured every waking moment (after work and when I wasn’t fixing stuff in my house) into this to try and finish it.

Ahem

Here is one of these at a glance things! 

If that’s enough to intrigue you, take a look at my chapter masterpost which has convenient links to every chapter post so you don’t have to go figuring out where they are and what order they go in!: https://www.tumblr.com/featureenvyproductions/717516139934154752/eyan-eternal-tumblr-chapter-masterpost?source=share

If you like it and want to support me you can also buy a copy of the first print volume, which collects chapters 1-5 and has a smidge of bonus content (only available in the US right now, but that’s not going to be forever, and I’m working on an e-book as well): https://www.etsy.com/FeatureEnvy/listing/1447399615/eyan-eternal?utm_source=Copy&utm_medium=ListingManager&utm_campaign=Share&utm_term=so.lmsm&share_time=1683565699335

And now here is a more detailed break down if you need more info than that...

*Jonathan Frakes asks you things meme voice* have you ever wondered what you’d find if you REALLY lived forever?

Well, meet Eyan, an immortal vampire.

He’s slowly finding out the answer to that question...

...And it appears to be unbearable isolation.

Eons into the distant future, when most stars have faded in the night sky and the cosmic event horizon has confined any remaining beings to an isolated pocket of the universe, Eyan roams interstellar space in a repurposed generation ship in search of anything that could be considered alive/sentient in the way he is.

So far, he’s out of luck.

That is until he runs into an unexpected former rival on a remote planet - Zero, a sentient android he never expected to be the only other person left alive.

Well. That is, if either of them can really be considered “alive”. What does that mean anyway, when the humans who defined what it means to be alive are all gone?

This is something they’ll have to explore and define for themselves as they attempt to set aside their myriad of differences and try to work together on one of the few ways left to escape the dark fate of ultimate isolation - The Grand Encoder, a machine that can upload minds to a special medium - if it even works for them anyway. In the process, they slowly come to accept that maybe they’d had each other all wrong and weren’t seeing the bigger picture.

You may not find any action-packed Star Wars like escapades here in this sci fi drama. You also won’t find ponderings about the origins of vampires or what gave rise to robot sentience - It’s integral to the plot that these things just ARE. But you will find a thoughtful exploration of identity and how it can cause us to define ourselves and relate to (or abandon) each other depending on the framework within which we are doing that exploration and within which we are compelled to exist. It asks the question, what if the frameworks within which we defined our existence and purpose no LONGER existed...Where would we go from there?

And as two immortal guys who are the only folks left in the universe (as far as they know), Eyan and Zero are just the right people to mull over that.

There is both textual and allegorical queerness in this story - both main characters should be considered gay men, even if it’s The Future TM and terms/exact scopes of identities may not be EXACTLY 1-1 with today’s...But I want to be perfectly clear that it was my intent to make them gay because I wanted to see more gay guys in sci fi and I don’t want anyone erasing that. As for the allegorical stuff - I myself am a trans gay man in my late 30s, so this act of re-exploring and re-framing myself and evaluating how and why queer folks interact with each other the way we do is something I’m very familiar with, and I feel like other folks might relate. (I also peppered in some neurodivergent-person-in-a-neurotypical-world moods tbh.)

Of course it’s not all serious. I do have a bit of fun with some old school vampire tropes, tossing Eyan around and putting him in Situations.

Anyway if this all sounds interesting to you, take a look at my tag and site (above)! I’d appreciate it! I also like to hear from people and see if there’s anything about it you related to! :)

I also do everything. Every last monotonous step (well, aside from literally loading up a printing press to churn out volumes lol - BUT REST ASSURED IF I HAD $10K TO PISS INTO THE WIND I WOULD DO THAT TOO). So if there’s ANYTHING you want to know about my process, I’m happy to tell you so please ask, especially if you’re like trying to get started on your own comic or trying to go to print :) 

Edit before I go ahead and blaze this: I want to say, to be honest, the creation of comic was initially motivated almost entirely by the isolation/loneliness I’ve felt in my life. It’s not as bad as some folks’ and I know that, but it is a really prevalent thread throughout my life and sometimes is almost unbearable, and my comic began as an exploration of that loneliness, as well as a narrative exercise to try and express the depth of it at its worst point. I’m putting this out here because ultimately I don’t know...maybe someone will catch my drift and understand the feeling I’m trying to illustrate, and maybe they’ll want to see the plot that came of those feelings. I am not above the need to feel seen lol, especially if other people out there feel like they can resonate with this experience as well.

[impala-dreamer]

Sweet Little Lies

A Supernatural Story

~ It’s funny how one little white lie can spiral so out of control that the beginning seems eons ago and the end is nowhere in sight.~

Dean Winchester, OFC Eddie, OMC Leslie, Sam Winchester and others

8,517 Words

Warnings: Show Level Angst and Violence, Blood, Major Character Death, Some Funnies

A/N: This is written for @jacklesversebingo My prompt was "A white lie that spirals out of control" and boy did it. I do hope that you enjoy. This took me forever to write and I really love how it turned out. Thanks for reading!

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

With a worried sigh, Dean grabbed the Impala keys off of the little round kitchenette table and his green canvas jacket from the chair. In a rush to leave, he nearly toppled the chair, but it found its footing on the dingy orange carpet. 

“Be back later,” he groaned, clearly annoyed and slightly confused.

Sam shook his head from the bathroom doorway. He leaned against the door jab as he finished drying his hands with the slightly gray hand towel. The motel was beyond old, and suspiciously filthy, as if a maid hadn’t stepped foot inside in the past two decades. 

“You’re really going?” 

Dean huffed as he paused just half a step from the door. “What choice have I got, Sam?” 

“You could not go,” Sam offered with a hint of snobbery that Dean did not appreciate. “You know it’s a trap, right?” 

Dean spun on his heel and pursed his lips into a tight line. “Yeah, I know it’s a damned trap! Of course it is! But I gotta go.” 

Sam sighed heavily, his massive frame sinking just enough to drive his point home. “Dean-”

He tossed his hand up and waved Sam away. “I gotta go, Sam. Someone could die.” 

“I know.” Sam cleared his throat. “You want me to go with-” 

“No.”  Dean turned back to the door and fingered his keys, easily pulling out the one that fit his Baby. “I’ll call ya if I run into trouble.” 

The sun was fading and golden light struck his face when he opened the door. The air was cool; a fresh early spring breeze made him take a breath as he stepped out. 

Sam clicked his tongue and shot one last jab under his breath: “When you run into trouble…”

The demon’s phone call had chilled Dean’s blood and confused the shit out of him all at once. He racked his brain, combing back through the last year, trying to find a clue as to what the bastard was talking about, and consistently came up empty. 

Clearly, it was a trap. Sam wasn’t saying anything he didn’t already know. Hell, demons had been playing this game for the last twenty years it seemed, always trying to lure him into some abandoned warehouse with broken windows and bare, hanging light bulbs that blinked as they swayed. It was always cold in those big spaces, and something, no matter the weather, was dripping from the roof. And always, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, Dean stepped in the puddle and got plinked in the forehead with a droplet of whatever the hell was dripping. It was getting old, frankly, but he had to go. 

Engine roaring, Dean pushed the Impala to eighty and wove through the dense traffic on the highway.

Even if the hell-spawn was making the whole thing up and he was walking into an ambush, he had to go. On the off chance there was someone in danger, someone who- No. It was impossible, he was 99.999% sure that it was impossible, but he couldn’t take that chance. 

That’s just who he was: an idiot hero who couldn’t risk an innocent’s life. 

Besides, he had to find out what the hell was going on. 

Two hours later, he was there. He pulled up beside the giant, abandoned warehouse and sighed as the headlamps gleaned off of dusty, broken windows. 

“Great. A warehouse.” 

He cut the engine and checked his gun. Loaded. 

He pulled the Angel Blade from his jacket. Armed. 

He popped his collar against the cold night. Ready.

“Let’s do this.” 

The front door was ajar so he walked in without a problem. His gun was raised; the safety was off. He squinted into the dark lobby and walked past a few empty offices before finding his way. 

Two giant doors stood before him, locked with a flimsy bolt and framed in flickering yellow light as if light bulbs were swinging from half-frayed wires on the other side. 

Dean took a breath and lifted his right foot, kicking the portal open. 

The doors swung and crashed against their respective walls with a loud clang of metal on metal.

“Hey Lucy,” Dean shouted as he made his entrance, “I’m home!” 

To say that Dean was shocked by what he saw would have been a lie. He was totally and completely unsurprised to see a giant, empty room with broken windows lining the top of each wall, and rusty metal beams decorating the ceiling. There was even the standard line of unshaded hanging light fixtures that were moving in some breeze blowing in from a hole in the roof that was also - 

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, slapping a drop of icy water from his face. 

The demon who, presumably Dean had spoken with on the phone, stood in the middle of the warehouse, his pale face beaming with a sinister grin. He was slight and lanky, with a mop of ginger hair atop his cotton swab shaped head. He wore a navy suit that was a size too big and a striped tie that made it look as if the entire ensemble had come prepackaged together from a department store. Dean wasn’t judging- he’d been there many times too.

Standing behind the ginger-demon were two others; their black eyes shining with an intimidating sheen as an air of cockiness pulsed off of them in waves. Dean almost laughed, but he held it in, giving them a bit of dignity. At least their suits fit, he thought.

And, finally, positioned between them and tied to a rusty metal folding chair, head covered in a black velvet sack, was the woman Dean had been charged to save. He squinted at her from afar, accessing his whiskey-addled memory, but without seeing her face, there was no way to figure out who it was. Her clothes were normal- nothing out of the ordinary or distinctive that he could see besides a silver charm bracelet on her left wrist. Otherwise, she was just another body tied to a chair. Light Jeans, black boots, and a dark blue sweater. That’s all he could see. 

The main fiend finally spoke up, his hands moving with dramatic flair as he greeted the famed hunter. “Dean Winchester! We meet again!”

More confused than ever, Dean’s squint moved from the damsel to the demon. “I’m sorry, I can’t seem to figure out who the hell you are.” He took a slow step forward and pointed his gun sideways in a way that made him look like the bad-ass, no-nonsense cop from a thousand 80s movies. “I know I don’t have the best memory, but I think I’d remember a skinny little fuck like you.” 

The demon took offense, standing up straight and frowning as his cohorts chuckled in the background. 

“I fucking knew it,” the bald demon on the right sniggered. 

“Shut up, Karl!” The ginger hissed over his shoulder. After a breath, he turned back to Dean who was struggling to hold back a laugh. “You know me,” he insisted, gesturing to himself. “I am Leslie Wintermillt! Crossroad Demon Extraordinaire!”

Dean smacked his lips and lowered his gun. He looked away, comedically pretending to remember, but his mind was blank. “Oh, yeah… You were at that place doing the thing. Yeah, yeah.” With an eye roll, he lifted his weapon again and cleared his throat. “How ‘bout you let the lady go and we can all go home and get on with our lives, OK?” 

Karl and the nameless demon laughed again, clearly amused by the lack of respect Dean was showing their ringleader. 

Leslie grew more angered, his eyes slicking to pure black and his cheeks growing beet red. He clenched his fists and dragged a blade from his breast pocket. 

“You shouldn’t be so quick to insult people, Dean,” he warned, quickly spinning to stand behind his kidnapped victim. “Especially a being as powerful as I!” The blade pressed into the black velvet sack and the woman squirmed. She mumbled something; her scream clipped behind a gag. 

Dean held up his hands in a show of surrender. “Hey, hey. OK! No need to go playin’ with knives, now. Let’s all just calm down.” 

The bound woman screamed once more and began twisting against the ropes. She was tied at the ankles and her wrists were locked behind her back. She shook herself in an effort to break free, but all it did was annoy Leslie even more. 

“Fine,” he growled, pulling the blade away from her chin and addressing her with familiarity and ire. “You want to see your betrothed so badly? You want him to watch you bleed? I’m happy to oblige!” 

Before the words could fully sink into Dean’s head, he saw her face. 

The bag was pulled away and he was met with big blue eyes hidden behind rather pretty lashes. Her blonde hair was long and messy- half in a ponytail that had fallen from the crown of her head, the rest tugged free and frizzy from the velvet hood. Her face was pleasantly plump and rather pink from all the exertion, and her thin lips were parted by a thick piece of the same brown rope that tied her limbs to the chair.  

Dean had absolutely no idea who she was. 

She looked at him, begging for help with huge eyes and a stunted voice. 

Leslie grinned devilishly. “Well, Mr. Winchester, what say you? I’ve captured your fiance and your unborn son. I’ve won our little dance once and for all!” 

Dean sucked in a quick breath and held it, confused and pondering his next move. Obviously, he was going to save the woman, kill Leslie, and at least one of the other demons, but- the whole thing just wasn’t sitting right with him. 

He cleared his throat again, pushing away the feeling of being so utterly lost in his own scene. 

“Uh. I’m sorry. And no offense, but…” He looked from Leslie to the blue-eyed captive and cocked his head. “What the hell is going on?” 

The background demons whispered to each other, clearly mocking Leslie. 

“What do you mean?” Leslie asked, desperately clinging to the illusion of victory.

Dean gave his head a little scratch and locked eyes with the blonde. “Who is she?” 

Edith Rose Marshall fell into hunting in the usual way. She was not brought up in a family of skilled hunters, nor was she the legacy to a vast compendium of supernatural lore and knowledge. Truthfully, about ninety-five percent of active hunters aren’t either. No, Eddie- as her friends called her- was thrust into the world of ghost hunting and demon dodging at the tender age of sixteen when a werewolf attacked her and her high school sweetheart while the couple was parked up on VanHorn Cliff. The teens had snuck away for the evening, ready to consummate their love for the first time, in a place that most of the youngsters in Marchant Creek, Virginia knew all too well. 

As Jason mustered his nerve to finally reach the Holiest of Holies and unhook Eddie’s bra, a scratch upon the hood made them both jump. 

Instead of spending the next two and a half minutes slightly unimpressed and a little bit in pain, Edith Rose was treated to a world-class view of Jason’s still beating heart as it was ripped from his chest by a hairy, wolfish claw. 

Splattered in his blood, unable to breathe or utter a scream, Eddie stared at the monster as it sank its yellowed, hellish fangs into the dripping muscle. As it licked its paws clean, Eddie came back to herself and scrambled to open the passenger door; her shaking fingers fumbling over the handle. While she struggled, the beast rounded the front of the car and slammed its furry fist into the window. The glass shattered and Eddie’s scream rang out over the cliff. It grabbed at her long blonde hair, tugging out a clump from the roots. She swatted at the arm but wasn’t able to fight it off. 

The wolf pulled her from the car, dragging her over the jagged shards of tempered glass, leaving a bloody trail down her back and sides. She twisted and kicked; screamed and begged, but the monster was undeterred. Lifting its snout to the dark sky, it howled with an intensity that shook Eddie to the core. Eyes wide, jaw slack, she saw the creature fully for the first time and an entire world of impossible facts came slamming into her. 

The bright moon washed over the wolf, its human eyes, and its matted, bloody fur. Eddie held her breath as fangs lowered, reaching for her throat. 

Hot, metallic breath breezed over her cheek and Eddie screamed. With a surge of self-preservational strength, she shoved at the wolf and sent it stumbling back a few steps. Before it could steady itself and charge forward once more, a shot rang out and blood sprayed from the wolf’s chest. Coated in more blood, Eddie stood motionless, staring in shock as the beast fell, dead at her feet. 

Adrenaline and panic stormed through her veins and Eddie grabbed her head as a scream ripped through her soul. She fell to her knees, trembling as the prior moments flashed again and again, becoming more clear with each repetition of memory. 

“Hey! You’re OK.” 

A gruff voice called to her and Eddie opened her eyes to find a tall man with dark hair and a shadowed jaw towering over her. His clothes were old and filthy, his hazel eyes stern but kind. 

“You’re OK,” he said again, reaching a hand for her to take. 

Eddie swallowed down her boiling emotions and let him help her up. His hand was rough but warm and she blinked up at him, terrified and confused. 

“What. The hell. Was that!” 

The man laughed softly under his breath. “That, sweetheart, was a werewolf.” 

Her stomach flipped painfully. “A what!”

“A werewolf,” he said again, slowly letting her hand drop. He took a step back and gave the corpse a kick. “Don’t worry. He’s dead.” Turning away, he clicked the safety on his pistol and tucked it into the back of his waistband, hiding it just under his leather coat. “You’ll be fine.” 

Eddie floundered. She looked back at the car, at the torn body of her boyfriend and the broken glass stained with his blood. When she looked again at the wolf, she knew she was staring at the shattered pieces of the way she thought her life would turn out. 

The picket fence was gone; the cushy office job had vanished. Her two-point-five kids and yappy dog went up in an ethereal puff of smoke. 

Nothing would ever be the same. 

She watched as he walked away, heading towards the far side of the clearing. There, a giant boat of a black car was waiting; its hood shining in the moonlight. Eddie lost her grip on everything and collapsed to her knees in the bloody grass. She felt her chest tighten and every breath was short and pained. 

A car door squeaked open and she looked up to see the man arguing with a younger guy who had leapt up from the passenger seat. They spoke heatedly over the hood, the younger one gesturing towards Eddie and the crime scene. Close as they were, Eddie couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing in her ears, echoing like thunderous drumming inside a cave. The young man finally gave up and bowed his head respectfully, ceasing his protest. 

Without another word, he got back into the car and stared forward. He bit his tongue and his jaw clenched tight. He met Eddie’s hopeless gaze and sighed. 

The engine roared like a mother lion as the car disappeared down the hill and out of Eddie’s life. 

That was the first time she ever saw Dean Winchester. 

It was also the last. 

Well… sort of. 

The thing you have to remember about the Hunting Community is that it’s less of a community as it is a wildly random assortment of people around the continent that seek out the company of evil creatures over their warm-blooded compatriots. They’d rather spend a weekend covered in dust and monster muck than sit around at a baby shower or backyard barbeque making small talk and drinking imported lager. 

That being said- there are times when groups of American Bogeyman Slayers get together to shoot the shit or share information. They work together, mourn together, and occasionally share a barstool at an out-of-the-way safe house. There really is no way to predict who would show up or when, but one thing was certain- where there be hunters, there be booze. And where there be booze, there be hunter stories. 

Hunter stories aren’t just retellings of cases or anecdotes of happenings on the road. Oh, no. They are elaborate, extravagant, wildly inaccurate tales of bravery, heroics, and sometimes death that have been stretched and twisted around like taffy on a pulling machine. They rarely tell the whole story or every legitimate fact within. However, more often than not, they hold some grain of truth. 

The hunters that can weave such tales as to captivate a tavern full of peers are revered and spoken about for weeks after. Their stories travel to every corner of the country and sometimes beyond, becoming legends with the bards themselves. 

Those who cannot expound upon their adventures in a stylistic and mesmerizing way, tend to stick to the background at larger gatherings, lingering in the shadows and soaking up knowledge as it is passed around. 

Eddie had been hunting for years, but she wasn’t exactly great at it. Nor was she great at telling stories. If she could travel back to see her ancestors in ye olde country, she would find them hugging the barstools and shyly staring as the raconteur spun their yarns and sang epic tales of wonder. 

So, for the most part, Eddie went unnoticed. There were no stories circulating of the time she rescued a poodle from a witch who was about to skin it alive for some ritual to bring her sister good fortune. No rumors about how amazing she was at memorizing random facts about creatures that never actually came in handy, or how she could lasso a horse if it stood still long enough. 

Eddie Marshall was barely known to anyone, even in the circles she normally found herself in. To the others, she was just a sweet kid who was probably in over her head, and boy did it piss her off. 

Just once, she wanted to be the center of attention. She wanted to stand on the bar with a bottle in her hand and regale the tavern with poems of her Herculean strength and Captain America-like bravery. Just once. But she had nothing to talk about, no credibility whatsoever. 

One evening at a rundown roadhouse bar on the outskirts of Kalamazoo, Michigan, Eddie lost her mind a bit. 

She was sitting at the dark end of the bar, head in hand, beer warming next to her as she half listened to a couple of hunters yodel on about some demon that was running amuck in Kansas. She was barely paying attention until two words jumped out and smacked her in the face: Dean Winchester. 

Sure, over the years, she’d heard many, many stories about Dean and his brother Sam. They were basically celebrities in the underground world of vampire slayers; the real Buffys out there saving everyone else’s asses just about every other damned day. Most of the stories were fantastical and hard to believe. Sam had been possessed by Satan? Sure. Dean had died, gone to Hell, and come back in one piece? M’kay, right. Still, they couldn’t all be fictional. And even if they were, so what? It wasn’t like the Winchesters were hanging out in gross dusty bars chatting up other hunters. Hell, Eddie hadn’t even seen him once since that night back home when John Winchester saved her life and started her on the path to certain, heroic death. 

So, OK, tell some wild story about the Impala being equipped with rocket boosters and a grenade launcher in the trunk. Spin a tale about the time Sam was given the power of flight and temporarily knocked down the power grid in Las Vegas during his wedding. Who’s getting hurt? No one. Who’s getting some street cred? 

…Eddie didn’t even realize what she was doing before the lie came spilling out of her mouth.  

“I was there when Dean Winchester took down that twenty-strong vamp nest in Albany with a single blade and a flask full of holy water. It was epic.” 

The hunters across the bar turned and stared, seemingly impressed. The larger man with a beard down to his gut scratched his jaw and nodded her way. 

“Tell me more…”

Suddenly, Eddie had something she’d never had before: a spotlight. Having the ear of other hunters enlivened her and something inside snapped. She told a few more stories, vaguely hinting that she was friendly with the famed Winchesters and worked with them often. She pulled monster names out of the lore stored in her head; and plucked cities off of the map lodged in her brain. The more she spoke, the more she lied. The more she lied, the more heads turned her way, and soon, Eddie was surrounded by a group of inebriated but intrigued hunters. 

“You really take down a wraith in Cedar Knolls?” An older man with graying red hair tucked beneath a wool beanie leaned in, his beady eyes locked on Eddie’s face. “I got a friend down there. You know Jessie?”

She nodded thoughtfully as if trying to match a face to the random name. “Oh, sure- I think I crossed paths with him a few times.”

The man hummed curiously. “Jessie’s a broad.” 

Eddie coughed behind a laugh. “Oh! Yeah! Jessie!” She bit her tongue and righted the ship. “I was thinking of someone else. Anyway- the wraith came at Sam but Dean went right for it and…”

“Did you know that the Impala has a secret panel inside that holds pure silver bullets and crosses that were blessed by the Pope? I kicked it open by accident once when Dean and I were fumbling ‘round in the backseat if you know what I mean…”

“Dean once fell six stories off the roof of a hospital while chasing a snallygaster. Nasty lookin’ thing. He fell on his back, rolled, sprang up, and shot the thing in the chest with a freaking arrow. Killed it dead.” 

“Last October, Dean and I went to Battle Creek and took out an entire coven. Just knocked ‘em all dead. Town was so thankful, they paid for dinner for us at this fancy French restaurant. We got a little tipsy… and handsy…”

It was almost as if whatever she said was instantly believed, no matter how outrageous it seemed. After her third beer- purchased by someone else, by the way- she had to really keep track of what she was saying. Twice, she’d almost mentioned riding Dean while riding a unicorn but thought better of it. There were only so many things she could get away with, or so she thought. 

As the night wound down, Eddie was running out of tales to tell. Sometimes, the audience would ask follow-up questions, occasionally they’d laugh at her outlandish claims, but never did anyone call her bluff. The Life was so fantastical that there really was no way to say what was real and what was dream work.

She walked away from the bar in the twilight hour, feeling exhilarated by all the attention and only slightly guilty for fibbing. It really wasn’t that bad, she reckoned. After all, what damage could a few sweet little lies do?

To some, demons may seem like the ultimate evil. They are mysterious- slinking in the corners of the universe unseen until they decide to attack. They are powerful- able to inhabit the body of just about anyone they choose, flooding their host with charcoal smoke until they fill every inch, every cell, taking over and using the mortal as their unholy puppet. They are clever- often laying traps for their victims to fall into and ultimately sell their souls for the glory of whatever their darkest desire might be. They are murderous and wicked, terrifying and cunning. They haunt the shadows of life, biding their time until the moment is right, only to strike down their prey with all the power of Hell, damning their souls to an eternity of pure torment and the scorch of hellfire.

Sure, there are demons in the higher ranks that may fulfill this preconceived notion of how Satan’s Henchmen behave. But, more often than not, the demons that venture to the surface to reap souls for their higher-ups are little more than low-level fetchers, more akin to worker drones in skyrise office buildings than to anyone with any real power. They collect on contracts, set up hazard traps, and generally carry out whatever tasks have been handed down to them from on high. Or, rather, from below. 

Occasionally, a group will get together and take on something larger; plan a job that will not only net them a coveted prize, but help them gain favor, and therefore credibility, with their superiors. These plans could include such impossible tasks as kidnapping the President and forcing him to comply with Lucifer’s wishes, or sinking a battleship in neutral waters thus triggering the inevitable World War III. These plans never pan out, of course, but some of the smaller ones do. Things like infiltrating an entire sorority and causing a panic that leads to a rush of unexplained deaths, or trapping a well-known hunter and using them to massacre an entire congregation during Easter Morning service. 

These acts are greatly praised and their legends grow far and wide, often twisting and expanding in detail like a game of demonic telephone as it passes through the ranks. 

Those who recount the tales and pass them along like notes in a grade school classroom are usually awed by the stories and yearn to be the focus of such epic adventures themselves. However, those who spend all their time wishing, often fail to achieve, as their heads are clogged up with fantasies of their own glory and their feet never actually move.

The demon that can dream it, can do it. The demon that only dreams of dreaming of doing it, cannot. 

Originally from Tucson, Leslie was an unimportant man who had lived a rather pointless life that revolved around telemarketing schemes and large gambling debts. He was mostly harmless in person, but some of his ventures had resulted in the untimely demise of others, thus marking his soul for eternal torment in the fiery pits of eternal damnation. 

It hadn’t taken long for Leslie to worm his way off the rack and into the mailroom of 

Hell, slowly learning the ropes and advancing up the proverbial ladder. However, black eyes and slick words only got a body so far, and Leslie was stuck on Crossroads Duty, bargaining for souls and whistling at HellHounds. He was bored but unable to make a move, even laterally. As just another peon, he was disrespected by his bosses, ignored by his peers, and generally left to fade into the background. 

This, however, did not stop him from trying to sneak into the limelight and better his position in the afterlife. He took any opportunity to talk himself up, even going so far as to take credit for co-workers' achievements or ideas, and generally spinning webs of lies about how amazing he was. 

One night while chatting about himself at a little bar in Raleigh, he took a few more liberties than usual. Around a table full of pint glasses in various stages of emptiness, Leslie wove a tale that had even his closest friends, Karl and Phil, laughing at his claims. 

“There is no way you did that,” Phil said with a laugh that shook his shoulders and rocked the cheap wooden chair beneath him. “You’re so full of shit.” 

Leslie sneered and lifted his chin high as if Phil’s claim had offended him greatly. “How dare you! You don’t know what happened, you weren’t there!” 

Shaking his bald head, Karl leaned in. The stink of stale beer floated from his lips across the table and struck Leslie in the face. 

“You really trying to tell us that you kidnapped Dean Fucking Winchester and lived? No fucking way.” 

The liar pursed his lips and set his hands firmly on the table. He peered around quickly as if checking for prying eyes, and leaned in, whispering. “I did. I kicked his redneck ass all over the place, too. Left him with four broken ribs, a busted up nose, and a gash on his chest longer than his dick!” 

Phil choked on a sip of beer and covered his mouth with the back of his hairy hand. “How do you know how long his dick is?” 

Leslie slammed his palm down in annoyance. “I- that’s not the point!” Sitting up straight, he settled his shoulders and clicked his tongue, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts. 

The thing about lying is, you have to make it believable and stay consistent. 

“Fine. I don’t know how long his dick is, but the cut was deep. He was bleeding all over himself and his thrift store flannel.” Leslie paused and watched their eyes glaze over with a tiny flicker of belief. He almost had them. “I would have killed him,” he went on, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “But that stupid angel showed up and ruined everything. I barely got away. He tried to smite me but I fought him off. Still got a little singed by his Grace, but I’m fine, thank you for asking.” 

The demons across the table held their breaths and their tongues for a long moment. They stared at Leslie and then looked at each other, seemingly absorbing all the information. 

Leslie, proud of himself for convincing them, sat back and crossed his arms smugly over his suited chest. 

“So, there you have it,” Leslie ended, waiting for applause or a congratulatory clamp on the shoulder.

Neither were offered. 

Instead, the duo laughed in his face. Loud, grandiose laughs that drew the attention of half of the room. Two dozen sets of eyes turned their way and Leslie felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment and hatred. 

“There is no way you’d get away if that asshole angel tried to smite you. He’s taken down the best of the best. Are you kidding?” Karl screeched with amusement. 

Phil laughed so hard he started coughing. “You’re a pissy little liar, you are! No way, no how did that ever happen? I’ll bet you’ve never even seen Dean Winchester!”

Leslie seethed. 

Karl smacked his leg and added: “Never even been in the same state as him!���

Phil cackled. “Or continent!”

“Planet!”

Back and forth they went until there was no geography left to name, no corner of the Milky Way left unaccounted for.

Leslie let the flame of injustice broil his already charred heart. It was one thing to be ignored or tossed aside, but to be mocked- it was too much for the demon to bear. 

“I’ll show you,” he warned, teeth gnashing behind his thin lips.

“Sure you will, Leslie,” Karl teased. “Just call up old Deano and have him stop by since you’re such good friends.” 

“We are not friends! We are-” Leslie’s fists closed at his sides and he stood up, unsure if he wanted to run away crying or throw a punch. While they probably expected the former, he knew he’d never get away with the latter. 

He turned and slunk off to lean on the bar, dejected and annoyed with himself. If only he could hatch a plan, actually get some face-time with the famed hunter, maybe, just maybe he’d be taken seriously for once. If only he could figure out how to lure that filthy, annoying, demon-slaying De-

“Dean Winchester! I knew that was you!” 

The famous name shot out from over the throng of drunken voices and blaring 90s hip-hop, striking Leslie in the gut. His head snapped to the left and he found a short blonde thing clad in denim and a baggy navy sweater, perched on the edge of a stool. The speaker, a tall brunette with all the curves of a toothpick, was stumbling into the next seat, a mostly empty bottle of Bud Light in her grasp. 

She was in awe of the blonde, practically star-struck, and Leslie zoned in on the strange encounter. 

“You’re his girl, ain’t you?” 

The blonde shrugged. “Yeah… I mean, we don’t have an official title or anything but-” 

“No. Way.” The brunette held up her hand and leaned in. “I knew it. Tell me everything! As soon as I saw you, I said, that’s Eddie, I said. I said that to Jimmy- Where’d he go? I said, I’ve heard all about her. She’s the chick keeps hookin’ up with that sexy Winchester. Oh, I’ve heard all about you!” 

Eddie’s shoulders curled inwards as if she were shy. 

Leslie’s focus sharpened. Dean Winchester’s girl? His luck must be turning. 

“That’s so sweet, um-” 

“Jennifer,” the woman said, running a hand through her teased hair. “You call me Jen. All my friends do. We’re best friends now.” A drunken burp ended her yapping, but only just. 

“OK,” Eddie said with a smile. “Jen. Nice to meet you.”

Jen finished her beer and slammed the empty bottle down on the bar. “Yo!” She sat up and leaned over onto the counter, snapping at the bartender. “Another one!” Pausing, she looked at Eddie and then gasped. “Sorry, hun… And one for my friend!” 

Eddie shook her head. “Oh, no thanks, I-” 

Jen’s jaw dropped and she leaned back to look Eddie over, her hazel eyes darting to the woman’s stomach. “Oh. My. God. Are you pregnant?” 

“I, um…” All Eddie had meant was that she wasn’t planning on staying much longer. Jen was very over the top and kind of irritating, so she hadn’t wanted another beer. But, if Jen was going to assume things, who was Eddie to deny her fan a little more excitement by being in on a huge secret? 

Eddie smiled and lay a hand over her tummy. “Yeah. But, don’t tell anyone! We haven’t even told Sam yet!” 

Leslie’s eyes grew huge and he scooted a little closer. “Well, goddamn…” It had to be a sign. There was no way this wasn’t meant for him. Right place, right time. 

Jen lost her drunken mind. “Holy shit! This is amazing! Oh my god! When? What? Tell me everything!” 

Eddie laughed gently and shrugged. “Um… I’m like… three- no four- months now. And we’re hoping for a boy. I mean, Dean kinda wants a girl, but I think all those little flannel shirts and jeans on a boy would just be the cutest! But yeah… we’re so excited.” 

Leslie echoed her excitement. His thoughts were racing faster than his heart, concocting the perfect setup to get Dean Winchester in his grasp and make stupid Karl and Phil look like assholes. His time had finally come. 

Jen sighed happily and patted Eddie’s stomach without asking. “A little Winchester. Just perfect.”

Eddie was beaming, but not from hormones. She was in her glory, finally about to become a legend in the hunting community. 

“I can’t wait to tell everyone. After the wedding, we’ll- oh! Oops…” 

Jen squealed. “You’re engaged!”

Eddie nodded and spent the rest of the night layering lie upon lie. 

It’s funny how one little white lie can spiral so out of control that the beginning seems eons ago and the end is nowhere in sight. 

Leslie waited patiently, gathering all of the information that he could. Finally, he slipped away and let the boys in on his plan. 

When the bar closed and the moon was high, three demons cornered a lone hunter in a dark alley. She bit back her scream, channeling her panic into her blade. Black eyes gleamed in the dim light of the flickering street lamp; Eddie’s Latin recitation echoed down the vacant path. 

Metal flew through the air. Punches landed on yielding flesh. Arms fit around her like steel ropes. 

Eddie saw the bricks spinning as her eyes unfocused. Her head was throbbing and the darkness was winning. She saw a flash of golden-red hair before the bag was lowered and her world went dark. 

Once she woke up, Eddie wouldn’t shut up. 

Twice, Leslie had threatened her with the painful removal of her tongue with a pair of dull safety scissors, but even then, she wouldn’t be still. She thrashed and kicked, spat, and yelled. As far as hostages went, she was the worst. Not that he’d taken another before, but he could imagine. 

The gag finally shut her up.

Phil and Karl hung around in the background, observing Leslie as he put his plan into motion. 

Step One- Kidnap Dean Winchester’s pregnant fiance. 

Step Two- Call Dean Winchester and get him to show up, thus sacrificing his life for hers. 

Step One(B)- Get Dean Winchester’s phone number. 

Step Three- Kill him. Kill her. Reap all the rewards of fame and fortune that could be bestowed upon him by the King of Hell!

So far, he was stuck on Step Two. It had taken three calls before he’d gotten the right phone number and on the first try, no one had picked up. It wasn’t as if he could leave a voicemail with such important information, so he tried again. 

The second time, Dean picked up and Leslie was in such shock that he almost hung up on him. 

Finally, after much deep breathing, Leslie had convinced Dean to meet him and save Eddie’s life. 

“We will be waiting, Mr. Winchester…” 

Eddie bit hard into the rope between her lips and screamed. She twisted as best she could against her bindings and rocked the chair back and forth. 

Leslie had no choice but to make her stop, and thus, pulled the gag out. 

“What!” 

She spat out a mouthful of saliva and frayed rope bits. “You can’t do this!” 

The demon gave his cohorts an ambushed look and laughed. “Oh, really? Because it seems like I already have.” 

Eddie groaned. “No, you don’t understand,” she went on, begging for her life. “IT won’t work. He won’t come.” 

Karl’s ears perked up, but Leslie moved around to the other side of his victim, blocking her from view. He leaned close. 

“What are you talking about?” 

She grit her teeth and set the truth free. “He won’t come because he has no idea who I am.” 

If demon blood could run cold, Leslie’s would have. He balked. 

“W-what? No. You’re carrying his child! Don’t insult me with your lies. They won’t save you.” 

Eddie hissed. “He won’t either! I don’t know him. I saw him once when I was a kid, but we didn’t even meet then. It was like in passing. I’ve… I… I made it all up, OK?” 

“Why would you do that!” Leslie yelled in a whisper, leaning closer still. 

“I don’t know!”

“Keep your voice down,” he warned. 

Eddie whispered harshly. “I don’t know, OK? I just… it just happened. I started talking about hanging out with him and one thing led to the next and-” 

“And now you’re pregnant with his child and engaged to be married!” 

She sighed. “Yeah. But no. None of that is true. It’s all just… lies.” 

Leslie closed his eyes, processing everything. He’d lied again and again which had led him to this spot, trying to prove himself to his friends, all in the name of attention. 

And now, it seemed, so had his captive. 

He was screwed. 

“There a problem, buddy?” Karl called to him from across the warehouse, his smile smug, his eyes curious. 

Leslie straightened up and adjusted his striped tie. “No! Not a thing. Everything’s going to plan!” 

Quickly, he grabbed the rope around Eddie’s neck and lifted it to her lips. 

“Oh, please don’t,” she asked, looking up with pathetic eyes. “It’s so uncomf-”

The velvet bag slid down next and all they could do was wait. 

Dean gave his head a little scratch and locked eyes with the blonde. “Who is she?” 

Eddie’s heart sank. Even though it was a stupid thought, she’d imagined that somehow, some way, he’d heard of her. Maybe the Slayer Telegraph had made its way to Kansas and tickled his ears. As he stared at her, she was sure it had missed the connection. 

Dean was more handsome than she remembered, but not as much as she’d conjured up. He looked tired and badly needed a shave. There was a faint line of an old cut on the bridge of his nose and his jaw was bruised. Still, she thought, he was pretty hot. She wondered sadly how she looked and hoped that her hair wasn’t too much of a mess. 

Leslie cleared his throat and tried to ignore the movements behind him. Karl and Phil were moving in, ready to attack- him or Dean- he couldn’t tell. 

He was in trouble. 

“Uh- What do you mean! Are you going to disavow knowledge of your lovely bride-to-be and the life within? Are you so cruel as to toss her to the wind and leave your offspring to die fatherless in a ditch on the side of the ro-”

“OK, shut up!” Dean roared, taking aim in earnest. He set his stance, boots shoulder width apart, and squared his shoulders. His expression melted from shock and confusion to one of pure focus. It didn’t really matter who she was- she needed help, and he could be it. “Let’s just… do this.” 

Leslie moved to protest just as the first shot rang out. 

It was loud and Eddie cringed, terrified to be trapped in the middle of a gunfight. 

Karl shot back, missing Dean by about a mile and a half. He shattered the window to the left of the door and Dean laughed. 

“Nice shot.” He countered and hit the demon in the shoulder, knocking him over. “Winchester, one; demon, zero.”

Phil took up Karl’s place and shot back. Three consecutive blasts from his pistol made Dean duck and spin away - Phil was a much better marksman than his bald friend.

While they exchanged bullets and quips, Leslie did the only thing he could think of: he bargained for his life. 

Quickly, he untied Eddie’s legs and sliced through the rope binding her wrists. He lowered the gag for greater effect and Dean froze when she screamed his name. 

A bullet nearly clipped his ear, but Dean’s focus had shifted to Eddie. Without looking, he shot at Phil and the demon fell, clutching his gut. The wounds wouldn’t kill them, but they sure as hell would feel the pain. 

“Dean!” 

He wished to God that he recognized her. 

He still didn’t. 

Dean held his left hand up in surrender but kept the right aimed at the demon’s head. “Hey, now. Let’s all just take a breath.” 

Leslie held his blade to her jaw. She flinched when he pressed the sharp edge against her flesh, and a thin line of blood trickled down her throat.

She held her breath, afraid to move, afraid to do anything but stare at the man she’d invented a life with, the man of her impossible dreams. 

Dean pressed his tongue between his lips as he calculated his next move. One shot to the head would send the prick to the ground, but he could hit the girl. He could also piss off the demon and in turn get her throat slit. The situation called for a delicate maneuver for sure. 

He took a breath and lowered his gun. “Just let her go and you and I can talk.”

Leslie laughed and lowered the blade to her chest. “I don’t think so. The only thing standing between me and certain death is this lying pixie.” 

Eddie squirmed an inch and huffed, resenting the title but afraid to really move or backtalk the demon. 

Dean nodded. “You’re not wrong.” Reaching behind him, he stuck his pistol in the waistband of his jeans and pulled out a blade. The ruin-carved, serrated blade shone in the flickering light as he twirled it in his palm. “I’m gonna kill you. But you can do one good thing before you go.” 

The demon swallowed hard and dropped his hand to her stomach. The tip of the knife dug gently into her side. A small pool of wetness darkened her sweater. 

“Really?” he asked. “What’s that?” 

Dean took a step. “You can let her go.” He took another. “You can drop that knife and surrender. Save her life.” A third step had him less than a dozen feet away. He stared at Eddie and nodded subtly. She’d be OK, she just had to trust him. “Come on, man. Save her life.” 

Leslie laughed. “And why would I do that?”

“Because…” Dean paused, his words failing him. He clicked his tongue and then shrugged. “Well… I don’t really have a good answer, and you’re gonna die anyway, so I’m just asking you nicely. Let the girl go.” 

There was a moment of utter silence. 

A hard, terrifying silence in which Eddie could hear nothing but the painful thrumming of her heart as it reached its quickest pace. The warehouse faded around her and the men who held her life between them became sharp shadows that moved in through the sludge of the air like beasts stuck in quicksand. 

She saw the outfield demons attack with guns blazing and fists flying. 

She saw Dean dodge their bullets and lunge forward. He hit the ground and rolled closer, springing to his feet like a gymnast. 

She saw Leslie’s arm raise; heard his warning like a mumbled groan in her pounding head. 

She felt the push of steel into her side; tasted the tidal wave of blood as it struck her tongue. 

Dean’s voice cut through the ringing in her ears but it was hard to pay attention, hard to pick his words out and make sense of anything. 

She watched as he swung around, roaring like a lion defending his territory from enemy attack. He jabbed his knife into Karl’s temple and sparks burst from the demon’s mouth and eyes. 

Eddie laughed gently. It always amused her the way demons lit up when they died. It made their heads look like jack-o-lanterns. A cough overtook her and blood spilled down her chin, hot and wet- self-made lava. She wondered if she looked like a Halloween horror too. 

Dean shouted at her, waving a hand her way. “Just hold on!” 

He seemed so sweet. Why he would care about her at all was beyond her grasp at the moment, but she was grateful. Maybe all the stories about him were true. He was brave, that was for sure, and strong, and so- 

Dean stabbed Phil in the heart and fireworks danced from his open mouth. 

The knife twisted inside of her and Leslie’s horrible laugh echoed through the giant room. 

“Too late, Winchester!” he yelled, catching Dean’s attention once more. “She’s dead.” 

Eddie laughed. She wasn’t dead. Her knees hit the ground. It was hard and cold; pain spread up through her bones and she groaned loudly. The blood was thick in her mouth and her eyes were heavy. 

Dean rushed towards her and looked down with a pained expression. 

She smiled. “I’m OK,” she tried to say, but all he heard was a gasping gurgle. 

Her shoulder hit the floor, but this time, she couldn’t feel anything. It should have hurt, the way her bone collided with the concrete, but her whole side was numb. She shivered at the chill seeping up from the ground and wondered why she could still feel the cold if not the pain. 

She heard Leslie scream something and Dean yelled back. She heard shoes behind her and watched as Dean threw his blade, aiming like an archer with an arrow. Leslie let out a surprised grunt and Eddie heard the shimmer of demonic pyrotechnics as he hit the ground far behind her. 

Eddie rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. Pieces of roof were missing and she could see the sky above. Maybe there were stars out, but she couldn’t see any from where she was, and besides, her eyes weren’t working so well suddenly.

“Hey! Hey…” 

Dean slid down beside her and carefully scooped Eddie’s head into his lap. He wiped at her chin with the sleeve of his canvas jacket, clearing away a mess of blood. “Hey, I’ve got you. You’re gonna be OK, you hear me?” 

She knew he was lying. She was dying, quickly. 

Eddie smiled. “Liar.” 

A darkness washed over his handsome face and Eddie couldn’t help but smile at the constellations of faint freckles that covered his cheeks and nose. They were more beautiful than any stars that were out that night, more perfect. 

Dean pressed a palm to her stomach and Eddie let out a pitiful cry. Searing pain spread through her and she focused on his hand. He was big and strong and she was amazed that he was really there. He was really, truly there. He was solid and whole. His heart was beating and his brow was pebbled with sweat. His eyes were so green, so impossibly green-

Eddie’s eyes rolled and Dean shook her gently, bringing her back. 

“Hey, come on now-” He leaned in close and smiled a hopeful smile. “You gotta stay with me, OK? I need you to explain to me what the hell just happened. I need you.” 

She laughed and it hurt. Not because the pain was bad, but because he’d never find out what exactly had happened. He’d never hear her story, never know it that she was the girl his father had saved on that overlook years ago. The girl he had fought with his dad over. The girl who had lied about him again and again. The girl who deserved to die bloody and cold in his arms in some godforsaken warehouse in the middle of nowhere. 

He’d never know.

She couldn’t feel her body, couldn’t feel the blood pouring out of her and spilling over his hand. She looked up into his gorgeous face and smiled. 

Tears welled in his eyes. “Who are you?” 

She smiled. “I’m Eddie,” she whispered with her last breath.

Dean closed his eyes, and let a single tear escape down his stubbled cheek. “Hey, Eddie,” he said softly. “It was nice to meet you.” 

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[aetherdoesthings]

Hey I love the way you write Robin in your story's so i was wondering how would reader react to Robin who got turned into a child, but she still has her memory of a 30 year old... please

hey! thanks for the compliment 😊

forethoughts: woah aether posts consecutively?! anyways, planning to do a beiguang smut or nico robin x fem!reader smut sometime soon. idk that could be my 100 follower special? whichever one y'all want.

notes: gn!reader, comedy? idk it's just my sense of humor.

It was a normal day on the Sunny. Well, normal for you. Normal as in Nami was chasing Luffy around, Zoro bickering with Sanji, Usopp and Chopper in a game of ‘who can get hurt faster’. You excluded yourself from the madness, finding refuge in the private library only you and Robin had access to.

Ah, the privileges you got for being the partner of the resident Straw hat archaeologist.

You were sitting cross legged on the carpeted ground, organizing the bookshelves and dusting the shelves as Robin had requested. As you finished the last row, the door clicked open, before shutting with a bang.

A smile formed on your face at the sound of your girlfriend’s arrival. You stood up, turning around to greet the love of your life. “Robin! I didn’t know you were back so soon. I thought you were-” 

A shriek was ripped out of your mouth, as you stumbled back, staring at the figure in front of you. A small petite girl, a third your height was standing in front of the door. She had jet black hair with ocean blue eyes, brows furrowed and a familiar frown on her face. You recognized those ocean blue eyes; you couldn’t ever forget the sight of tranquility in eons. But those eyes didn’t belong on the face of a dwarf.

“What in the fuck?” You stammered, staring at the girl. “How did you get on board?! A pirate ship? Do you know where you are, kid?!”

“Y/N, it’s me. It’s Robin.” The girl squealed, taking a step towards you. You instinctively took a step back, a hand absentmindedly reaching for the sword on the desk. Robin? What in the fuckknuckles? Who does this girl think she is, walking onto the Sunny and proclaiming to be my girlfriend? 

“No, no, nope. Robin, first of all, is thrice your height, and her voice is WAY lower than yours.” Your voice cracked, leaking with hesitancy. This girl, wherever she came from, was NOT your girlfriend. You were 50% sure. 

“Y/N, please, put down the sword.” NotRobin took another step closer to you, desperation cracking through that surprisingly familiar stoic expression. “Ask me anything. I promise I’m Robin.”

“Okay. Okay. Fine.” You placed the weapon back on the desk, staring down at the kid. “If you’re Robin, use your devil fruit power.”

NotRobin let out a sigh, closing her eyelids. She raised her arms, crossing them in front of her chest. Like a seed germinating, a hand sprouted from your chest, the duplicate fingers flicking your forehead before disappearing with a flower petal. You stumbled back, placing a hand on where the duplicate hand was. That flick had sent your soul out of your body, leaving you paralyzed with shock and confusion. It wasn’t after a while your soul came back, as you faced MaybeRobin, her arms folded on top of each other under her chest, a smug smile on her face.

“T-That was unnecessary!” You managed to regurgitate out.

“Still don’t believe me?” MaybeRobin let out a small chuckle. 

Your cheeks flushed red. “W-Well! Maybe you somehow have the devil fruit ability to replicate other devil fruits, and you just happen to know it’s Robin’s devil fruit!”

“Y/N, I love you, but darling your logic is still terrible.”

“Shut up!” You stammered, while MaybeRobin had a devious smile on her face. Of course MaybeRobin was relishing in your embarrassment. Actual Robin would do the same. You thought to yourself.

“Okay, then.” Recomposing yourself, you faced MaybeRobin with a serious look. “If you really are Robin, who confessed first?”

“You did.” MaybeRobin answered without hesitation.

“Lucky guess. Where did I-”

“In the crow’s nest. During my turn to watch over the Sunny. You crept into the crow’s nest in the middle of my turn, and confessed, and then we stayed up there the entire night cuddling and watching the stars.” ProbablyRobin answered with a monotone voice, as if she was repeating a speech she was forced to memorize a hundred times like it was nothing.

You stared at ProbablyRobin with a shocked look, but quickly pursed your lips, not letting ProbablyRobin know she was right. “Lucky guess. If you were really really my girlfriend, you would know that-”

“You have a birthmark on your left thigh near your-”

“OKAY, OKAY. I GOT IT.” You shouted at the top of your lungs, glaring at Robin with a warning look. Robin let out a giggle, placing a hand in front of her mouth. That laugh. That laugh that caught your heart. That laugh that made you fall in love with the girl that spent her life running away from the world. Bending down, you faced your supposed girlfriend, looking into those familiar ocean blue eyes. “Riddle me this then, if you really are Robin, why are you a kid?”

“Perhaps our last fight in that laboratory had some lasting effects. I do recall one of the scientists hitting me with some sort of chemical.” Robin answered nonchalantly.

You stared at Robin, jaw glued to the floor. “YOU GOT HIT BY UNKNOWN CHEMICALS AND YOU DIDN’T GO TO CHOPPER?!”

“I went to Chopper, rest assured. He’s certain this is… whatever this is is harmless and will go away soon.” Robin smiled at you. An uneasy feeling churned in your heart, as you hesitantly placed your hands on child Robin’s shoulders.

“This is… weird.” You stated, giving Robin the same lookdowns she would always give you.

“I know. But it’ll go away soon. Everything will return back to normal.” Robin reassured.

“No, I mean, yes. Yes, this will go away soon. I’m just saying, this is weird. My girlfriend is a child.” You made a vomit sound. “I’d never imagined that sentence coming out of my mouth. Euch. Please tell me this will go away soon.”

Robin giggled. “Be glad you only said that to me, not to the others. Otherwise everyone will start seeing you in a different light.”

“Hey! Not my fault! My girlfriend right now is LITERALLY a child!”

[bunny-dr34ms]

the love fate demands of us - preface

- mystical!txt x angel!reader

summary. Five beings, each an entirely different being from the other, yet bound by the common thread of tragedy that haunted them. Their lives had been marked by the bitterness of existence and only found solace in each other. Then, you appeared, a sweet little thing, willingly giving them the gentle love they had long been denied. They couldn't help their affection for you, taking you in as if you had always been there, a part of them, a heart split six ways.

cw/ tw; f!reader, fae!yeonjun, vampire!soobin, werewolf!beomgyu, wizard!taehyun, elf!kai, fantasy au, royalty au

features; txt, names of other idols that i decide as i go

Preface: A Heart Split Six Ways

The Merciless Prince: he who kills without remorse.

"They will all pay with their worthless lives, I will make sure of it."

"I’ve wandered these lands for eons, yet never have I found anything I yearned to protect so desperately."

"Your blood tastes like ambrosia; if I wanted to drink you dry, you'd let me, wouldn't you."

The Beguiling Fae: he who charms with allure.

"They are unworthy of your beauty; let me show you the heaven angels like you deserve."

"You love me so softly, as if you want nothing more than my heart and soul."

"I crave your innocence, rather, I crave to corrupt that innocence with my own, tainted hands."

The Deviant Werewolf: he who abhors his blood.

"They hurt my princess and for that I shall hunt them one by one, shredding them limb by limb."

"You are the gift that the Moon Goddess bestowed upon me; you are everything I need in this world."

"Let me mark you- I know you want me to just, let me make you mine, I'll go insane if I don't."

The Scheming Wizard: he whose magic deceives.

"They shall learn the consequences of targeting you; my magic will serve as their just retribution."

"All my life, I believed magic was the most powerful force in the world, but you came along and revealed to me that it is love."

"You trust so blindly that I could present you with any potion, and you would drink it without question, leaving me to ponder how far I could push your faith."

The Foolish Elf: he who rejects his power.

"They have no idea how long I have been holding back, yet they dare to touch you?"

"I am so undeserving of your love; I'd bring the whole world to their knees just to be with you.”

"You are so blissfully naive to remain unafraid of me, even as I intend to test your naive kindness to its very limits."

The Forlorn Angel: she who cries for the sinners.

"Love is such a pure and raw essence; why must it be confined by arbitrary rules?"

"I've longed for a feeling like this for as long as I can remember."

"My heart is yours for as long as you desire it, for this is all I am and all I have."

author note: i wasn't sure if i wanted to post this or not but i ended up finishing it up anyway so because chapter 1 is under heavy editing rn. making the mood boards took me the longest....also can you really call this a preface ;;; oh well, enjoy! as always, reblogs, likes, and comments are always appreciated <3