#make him clumsier

[computerpeople]

juno literallt was made as a self isrtt and im always like WHAAAAT THATS CRAZY

[introspectivememories]

well now that we know the cult is back, imma need some heavy bernard angst from the comic. the panic attacks, relapses into unhealthy behavior, pushing people away, imma need all of it.

[captain-amadeus]

peak sorcerer x steward content

[marsbotz]

OKAY SO LIKE. for the heist scene for meeee its bad bc like. they gave dru wayyyy too many ways to fumble it. and not many r even in line w his characterisation up until that point

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny used to be a vigilante, firmly on the side of good. Like, illegally, but morally good.

Danny’s 100% sure that whatever he is now, it’s not good.

Is Gotham’s influence just Like That?

He was homeless when he got to this thrice damned city (literally, because Lady Gotham was so cursed) and now he’s… here? In a mid-level penthouse with a rotation of homeless kids going in and out of his kitchen and eating out his pantry??

Danny adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt, making the conscious decision to ditch the tie. He’s a tall 6ft 4 now, taking after his Dad. His head smarted all of the time, hitting doorframes when he was being a bit clumsier than the normal ghost-like grace he had learned to channel as The Phantom.

The Phantom instead of just Phantom. Why? Because Phantom was the name of a teenage vigilante in another dimension. The Phantom, on the other hand, is an intimidatingly tall, deceptively kind, extremely dangerous kingpin.

Honestly? Danny didn’t even want this life. Like, he had no idea it would snowball like this??

He supposed that it all started when the Penguin was trying to snatch kids off of his block on Crime Alley. Not officially his block, of course, because Danny didn’t actually enter this city to be a crime-shadow thing. But he hadn’t lost enough of Phantom the Vigilante to ignore kids getting hurt. He still hasn’t, if he’s being honest. He flew into a frantic search, tracking down the missing kids to Penguin’s bar. The Iceberg Lounge. Apparently, he wanted the kids to do some menial tasks and what not. Danny, rage flickering through his core, intangibly went in and robbed Penguin of every coin and secret the man kept.

Then? Danny blackmailed the Penguin to guarantee his kids a measure of safety from the Rogue. That began the slippery slope into whatever it is he does now. Penguin was being kept in line by Danny’s threats, the grip he had on the Rogue’s weak points, and a wonderful bit of intimidation.

——

“What, you stinking phantom? I’m stickin’ to yer rules!” Penguin snarled, forced to his knees by invisible blob ghosts.

Danny, salty and pissy from the lack of sleep he’d experienced trying to keep Penguin’s men in line as a result of Penguin trying to test where Danny’s lines were, dropped the temperature to the point where Penguin started shivering. Considering the place was already cold- the Iceberg lounge lived up to its name- it meant that Danny was standing nonchalantly in a room that was negative twenty five degree Celsius in a sweatshirt, Danny was already making good on his natural intimidation factor.

“It’s The Phantom to you, Oswald.” Danny said, in the tone of someone saying “it’s the shit, to you.”

Danny narrowed his blue eyes, letting a tiny tint of ectoplasm make his eyes glow a bit in the suddenly icing over room.

“Your people have been getting on my nerves, Oswald. Roughing up kids is so… uncultured. Are you sure you’re a Cobblepot?”

Penguin snarled, the effect of which was rendered ineffective due to his increasingly violent shivers. Plus, Danny loomed over him without even trying.

Danny, annoyed and asking himself “What Would Dan Do To Intimidate This Guy?”, gripped Penguin’s shoulder and hauled him up one handed. He dragged the mob boss over to one of the booths, avoiding the bodies he’d dropped (non-lethally) when Danny first walked in to ruin Penguin’s night. He shoved Penguin in chair he iced over, because Danny’s petty and if he saw one more bruise on his kids at Penguin’s hands, Danny was gonna go full Dan the Murderer.

He at least allowed to room to warm up before laying into Penguin, though. He stayed standing. Hey, he had the height advantage to use. He could have kept Penguin kneeling, but it was probably god the best that the mob boss got some sense of pride back.

(Danny had no idea that sitting as someone loomed over you to lecture and threaten you was even worse than kneeling. At least with kneeling, you knew where you stood. But sitting? It leaves you horribly off kilter.)

“I told you to keep your people in line. Kids are off limits, Oswald.”

“I kept them in line!”

Never let it be said that Oswald Cobblepot had a normal functioning sense of self preservation.

“Really?” Danny jabbed his pointer finger lightly on top of Penguin’s trachea and allowed his fingernails to sharpen into Phantom’s sharper digits. Penguin tried to lean away. “Then why did they start a gun fight when there were kids visible on the street? Why did I see one of my kids get hit by one of your poor excuses of a bouncer?”

“I-”

“Don’t care much for your excuses, if I’m being honest. I let you mess around with the little projects you have, without even breathing a whisper of your secrets. Sionis would love to know how you double crossed him the last deal, yeah?”

“I- I’ll keep them in line!” Penguin stuttered.

“Well, I believe in second chances,” Danny bullshitted. Ancients, how was this even working? “So I suggest you make an example of the guy that smacked Hailey around before I make an example out of you, Oswald.”

“Fine! Fine!”

——

And with that, he got access to Penguin’s resources and men and more importantly, the corrupt police officers. He made Penguin “boot out” the pedophilic ones (in a very violent way) and kept the rest.

Then? Mr. Freeze froze over the god damn pipes and Danny had to intimidate and make a deal with the Rogue so he and his increasing roster of orphans had access to warm water.

In exchange for Danny’s restorative and, more importantly, unmelting ice, Mr. Freeze was now Danny’s… on-call enforcer?? When he’s not researching cures for his frozen in a pod wife, that is.

Danny was satisfied with that. He was! But then Black Mask happened, with the man trying to engage in a battle of wits with Danny over the control of Crime Alley which, at that point, was firmly Danny’s territory.

The thing is, Danny doesn’t play nice anymore. Why bother with pointless mind games when he could just…

——

“So, you’re The Phantom.”

“And you’re Sionis.”

Black Mask twitched at the name, gloved hands pulling out his guns. Danny sat on the counter, head touching mid cabinet, and sipped out of Sionis’ favorite mug.

Because Danny broke into Black Mask’s safe house and stole his quality coffee. The man’s eyes were wary.

“How did you get in here?”

Danny shrugged. “Walked.”

Danny held the coffee out of the way as Sionis unloaded a clip into his chest and lunged forward to slap a mask onto Danny’s face. After waiting a bit, as Black Mask’s smug triumph bled into shock, Danny laughed and, using a bit of his natural strength, tossed the guy off of him. He casually took the mask off of his face.

“Jeez, I’m trying to be nice, here.”

“So, you’re a Meta.”

Danny grinned. “Eh. And you’re a cult leader with a mask fetish.”

Danny tuned out the rant about the “true face of Gotham” or whatever, already bored, and sipped at Sionis’ coffee. The ass might be a psycho, but his coffee tastes were wonderful. Danny stood up, rinsed his mug, and turned back to Black Mask.

“You’re trafficking people. Kids.” He said, cutting through Sionis’ chatter. He was sly about it too, committing violence and torture in a way that would ensure obedience and fear. Danny probably would have never caught on, Black Mask’s schemes being so ingeniously created and executed, had he not kept a hawk’s eyes on the more vulnerable members of Crime Alley’s community. And the rest of Gotham’s vulnerable communities, of course.

“My, a wonderfully obvious conclusion. Now, Phantom, I have a proposition for you.”

Sionis seemed to have gotten his bearings back. Danny tilted his head at him, looking down.

“You can work for me,” Sionis said, before opening a laptop with video feed to one of his masked men or whatever holding a knife to one of Danny’s more fearless kids. Danny snarled.

“Or, refuse, and your kid will lose a finger for every instance of your defiance.”

“I told you not to touch the kids, Sionis. I don’t allow trafficking either.”

Black Mask chuckled. “Cut off a finger, Sadness.”

“Yes, bos- ARGHHHH!”

Danny watched as Mr. Freeze froze the goon’s arms before breaking them.

“I’ve got her, Phantom.”

Danny nodded at Freeze, keeping an eye on Sionis in case the fool bolts.

“So, what are your cards now, Sionis? You’ve sure pissed me off with nothing to show for it.”

And that was the last night anyone heard from the one that was supposed to be the King of Crime.

But Gotham knew the head mounted on a pike at one of Black Mask’s hastily abandoned bases was a warning, that The Phantom was watching.

——

Then he somehow got a gaggle of more orphans that were undead zombie “Talons?”

From there, he just obtained influence over the crime bosses of Gotham. Because his Talons kept bringing him heads and blackmail and his crime alley kids and Gotham orphans kept bringing him information for food and safety?

But like, Danny never wanted anything in exchange for the safety he provided. His core could give less of a shit whether he got anything in return. But he couldn’t convince his kids of that! They’re putting themselves in danger and ugh-!

Danny checked himself once more in the mirror. Ready, he stepped out into the night to wait for the Bats at his new favorite VIP spots.

On the way, he passed Ivy and Harley, who he waved to. Pamela worked under him because he controlled Gotham’s criminal underground (which also mean the official parts of the city considering the sheer amount of corruption) and influenced them into more plant friendly methods. His dominion over Undergrowth also helped immensely.

Harley? They’re friends. He beat up and crippled her abusive ex. She gave him therapy and stopped torturing people for fun.

Danny stepped into the back door of the Iceberg Lounge. No one stopped him. No one dared to.

He settled onto a velvet couch, nodding respectfully at the server that had immediately and nervously set down his mai tai. He glanced around for cameras and wire taps, before giving up and upping his ectoplasmic output to short any recording devices out.

He sipped his drink as he waited.

“Batman.”

“Phantom.”

“Oh, good. You didn’t bring Robin,” Danny said, watching Batman tense. “Kids shouldn’t be in places like these.”

Batman stayed silent.

“Come on, sit.” Danny gestured to the couch across from him.

“This isn’t a social call. I’ll stop whatever you’re scheming-” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. Is this where Nightwing gets it from?”

Batman snarled.

“Sit, sit.” Danny rolled his eyes.

Batman stayed stubbornly looming. Danny sighed, allowing his voice to slip into velvet danger.

“I told you to sit, Bruce Wayne.”

“You-”

“I won’t repeat myself again, Bruce. You’re testing my patience.”

Bruce sat, wary and hyper vigilant. Danny sighed, settling back in his chair.

“You’ve heard of Red Hood, yes? Don’t answer that, it was hypothetical. I know you’ve heard of him.” Danny waved a hand impatiently. “I don’t really care why he’s setting up shop in my Alley, but he’s upsetting the other crime lords. They’re asking me to interfere.”

“I don’t work for you.”

“No,” Danny acknowledged with a nod. “But I could make you, if you push it. Politeness would serve you much better right now, Bruce, seeing as I am doing you a… favor. And since I’m not shouting to the world who you are under the cowl.”

Danny gave Batman a pointed, patented, mom glare.

“… Apologies.”

“Now, you might be wondering what that favor is.” Danny watched Batman’s cowled face carefully. “I thought you should know that the Red Hood is your “Jason Todd.’”

Batman was still. And then Batman leapt at him, snarling, “How dare you-!”

Danny caught the vigilante by the throat and squeezed.

Batman’s flurry of punches- which, mildly ow, those gauntlets kind of hurt- quickly changed to clawing and maneuvers to get out of the choke hold. Danny held steady, cutting off the vigilante’s air supply until he began to go limp. He’s not Superman. Danny will bruise and kill, if he had to.

“Are you going to listen to me now?” Danny asked mildly, emulating both Black Mask’s drawl and Dan’s effortless psychosis.

Batman gave a weak nod. Danny plopped him unceremoniously back onto his couch. He sipped on his drink once more as he waited for Batman to cough some sweet air back into his lungs.

“I’m telling you to get your little birds in line before I have to go hunting, yeah? Keep your kids out of danger, Bruce, and I won’t have to step in.”

“He- how do you know..?” The growl isn’t there anymore, and Danny felt a smug sense of vindication of having smothered it out of the guy. Woah, no, that thought was too Dan and too little Danny. Danny handed him a cup of water, which Batman didn’t drink.

Danny rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Drink. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now. And as for how I know…”

Danny held up a beat up copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility, filled with Jason’s writing. He tossed it to Batman, who caught it with blank eyes.

“Water,” Danny reminded him firmly, feeling like a mother hen. Batman gulped down his water, eyes flicking between the pages of Jason’s annotated book. Ancients, Danny couldn’t believe he annotated his book. A crime lord, like that? Well, it’s not like Danny could say anything.

Batman looked up at him, a silent demand- no, plea, because he’s not in a position to make demands- for an answer.

“Broke into his safe house. You should contact your fling, Talia. Seems like she dunked him into these “Lazarus pits” and told him you replaced him with the current Robin.”

Danny could see Batman’s emotional gears hard at work and honestly, he doesn’t have time for that.

“Now, we’re done here. You owe me one for the information. I’ll collect later.” Danny grabbed the Dark Knight, who stayed oddly unresisting (shock, maybe?) , and hauled him up.

“Tell Tim Drake to eat more. He looks too skinny.” With that, Danny dragged the Dark Knight to the window and punted him out. His kids were waiting on hot chocolate night and Danny had to go shopping for quality ingredients.

——

“YOU COULDN’T HAVE TOLD ME THE BIGGEST CRIME LORD OF YOUR CITY WAS THE FUCKING HIGH KING OF THE INFINITE REALMS?!”

“Hn.”

“BLOODY HELL, DON’T YOU GRUNT AT ME, YOU BROODY BASTARD!”

Constantine let out a scream. Shite, the king who held his soul contract was a crime lord. Great.

——

The reason intelligence and convoluted schemes and genius doesn’t work against Danny is because he’s got weird standards of what he’ll tolerate and the fact is that his normal dumbassery and mother hen tendencies cancels out and coherent thoughts or plans he might have had.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, violence/abuse, threat of bodily harm

gn reader

Thinking about poly yanderes again…

They’re both so patronizing – suffocatingly so. 

But where one is a brute, the other is sweet – or sweeter than the former, in any case...

He has a certain calm about him – gentle with you – considerate when showing his affection, and patient with you when he’s intimate. He doesn’t growl at you to shut up and lie still the way the other one does – instead, he asks you if you can be good for him – if you can let him love you – lipping at your throat without the touch of teeth as he all but begs for your consent.

The brute doesn't bother with such foreplay...

Your will doesn’t seem to interest him in any other aspect than ripping it from you and strangling it in his fist with a big grin, laughing while watching those pitiful tears start slipping down your cheeks.

He'll just shrug off the kinder one when he chides, telling him to stop being so rough with you. He just squeezes you a little tighter, sucks your neck a little harder, and kneads his cock a little deeper – saying that he can do whatever he wants with that which belongs to him.

When you struggle against him, he’s not shy of punishing you accordingly – in fact, he jumps at the opportunity – bending you over his lap with his fist riddled in your hair – landing strike after strike until you’re screaming in surrender, all cute pleas for his mercy, words he’s told you to say. 

He likes fucking you like that – when you’re a broken mess who only clings to him for comfort, crying into his neck while he pumps you full of cock and cum.

The kinder one scolds him afterward. Tells him he’s a fiend while petting your head and hair, carrying you away from the scene and into the bathroom. He draws you a tub of bubbles and holds a glass of water to your lips. But for all his niceties – he still gets in the hot water with you – cock in your sore hole while he washes your hair.

Still, he’s more reasonable.

When he’s tying your wrists to the bedpost like every night of you sleeping stuck in between them, you ask him if it’s really necessary – promising him you’re not going to run away – telling him that you’re going to stay right there, peacefully asleep.

The brute says that it isn’t something that’s up for discussion, that if you push your luck, he’s gonna tie every inch of you up like a floppy fish caught in a net ready to be gutted. But you don’t heed the warning – looking to your kinder warden with puppy eyes and a pout on your lips, saying please, it hurts your wrists – again, promising him you’ll be good and stay sound asleep between them the entire night.

You just needed to get to the door. 

You just needed to get to the door – through the door – out into the street, screaming while at it, and surely someone, anyone, would come to your rescue. 

Why wouldn't your feet move quicker? Why weren’t you faster? Why were you clumsier now? Tripping over rugs, missing steps when scrambling down the stairs, slipping when turning corners – trying to navigate the house when you’d barely ever seen anything but the bedroom.

You just needed to get to the door – but you could hear one of them coming after you – just behind you – big monstrous thundering steps shaking you to the core, strangling your heart, shattering your bones – and it’s getting hard to breathe, hard to see, hard to feel anything other than the numbing fear and the awful way it cripples you – throwing your mind into a tailspin while choking your lungs free of all air, clawing up your throat into a scream. 

You just needed to get to the fucking door –

You hadn't known you could make a sound like that – like something out of a horror movie – high-pitched and desperate – ripped from somewhere raw and primal.

There’s a hand in your hair, yanking you backward where you’re received by a hard chest and an arm snaking around your waist, hoisting you off the ground, kicking and yelling.

It’s the brute. He looks almost happy you’d tried running away – a manic look of delight on his face when he finally drops you down on the floor – pinning you beneath him – shadowing you with teeth seemingly dripping with venom and all the ugly punishments he’s no doubt cooking up inside his sick mind.

“Your ass is gettin’ it extra fuckin’ hard tonight – my handprint won’t heal for a month – won’t even be able to sit down without cryin’.” He growls, his teeth on your cheek as he grips your jaw tight – starting off your punishment with a harsh lovebite.

You look at the more merciful of the two. 

He’s standing off to the side, looking down at the two of you. 

You expect he’d come to the rescue like he’d done all those other times.

But to your utter horror… he isn’t lifting a single finger to stop it. 

His face is blank – cold – as cold as the words that roll dryly off his tongue, “I think we’ve established that spanking isn’t enough…” 

The one holding you down halts in his advances and seems to get just as frigid as you by the cold-blooded tone of his partner – who takes slow steps toward the two of you, so close he’s got your hair pinned beneath his toes before crouching down until he as well looms over you like a darkening storm.

He reaches a stiff hand to soothe the ring of teeth left on your cheek by the other – seemingly kindly, but his eyes are so jaded your breath catches in your throat – soulless as they stare into your teary ones.

“Maybe we ought to get ahead of the issue and break your legs.” He suggests nonchalantly, making both your and your other captor’s faces bleach.

Then he smiles – that kind smile, only now you can’t help but flinch at the sight of it. 

“That way, everyone’s happy,” He states, explaining, “You won't have to be tied up, and we can trust you to keep your word and stay put when you promise us you will.”

Then he stands up and straightens himself, looking at his partner with that same eerie smile.

“Where’d you put the bat again?”

The brute stiffens. His crazed expression had melted in light of the other into a look you’d never seen on him before. He swallows thickly as though he’s just as worried as you are. His voice is hesitant, “I think rope is enough…” 

The other throws his brows up. “Oh?” Then he snaps his focus back to you. “What do you think, baby? You think that’s enough?” He walks back to the two of you, and you feel the intense urge to hide behind the one you’d initially been caught running from.

He looks down at you expectantly, watching your lip quiver as you struggle to form an answer without choking on it.

“Hm? What was that? Rope or bat, what do you prefer?” His voice is sharp, licking at you like a knife.

You stutter, “Ro-rope.”

“Yeah? Okay, then – that’s settled.” He confirms, then looks back at the other. “Go get the rope.”

It doesn’t seem like he wants to leave – almost like he’s afraid of what might happen if he does. “Now?” He asks.

“Yes, now.” The smile tightens – sharpens into something truly lethal if you were to test it. “Our pet thinks they can run wild, so we’ll have to reintroduce them to the leash.”

Then he sets his sights back on you, robbing you of all air.

“Unless you’d prefer the bat after all?”

You whimper, shaking your head with a sniffle, “No-no – rope…”

He looks back to the other. “You heard 'em. Get going.”

He’s reluctant about it – looking from you to him, then back to you again, almost apologetically – before he gets up off you, leaving you on the floor – alone.

Your hair is then grabbed harshly, and you’re pulled up to your feet before you’re dragged off them – pulled along until you’re tugged from the floor up onto his lap as he plopped down, comfortably seated on the couch.

He sighs, letting go of your hair and placing both hands on the fat of your haunches, making you straddle him – mirroring your breathless, tear-streaked face with an expressionless one.

A hand ascends, and you’re convinced he’s going to slap you – but as you squeeze your eyes tightly shut in wait for it, his hand finds your cheek, only to ever-so-gently pet the wet away.

Cupping your face, he places a light peck on the corner of your mouth, followed by his voice, “Apologize, and I’ll forgive you.”

Your eyes peel open, looking back into his. You regret it instantly. Still eclipsed, it’s a cold and blank stare that seems to seize you by the throat.

“I’m sorry, I’ll never- never ever do it again.” You whisper pitifully – as if you’re afraid to be too loud.

“Hm…” He hums, looking unimpressed. “I don’t think that’s good enough…” 

His hand slips from your face down your neck, circling it lightly before squeezing it firmly with whitening knuckles. “You hurt my feelings, y’know? I trusted you, and you lied to me – right to my fucking face.”

You cack, wrapping your smaller hands around his wrist as he strangles the words out of you. “I’m sorry- I’m really- really sorry-”

His breathing is thick, as though something’s bubbling underneath the surface – a beast within whose bloodthirst hasn’t yet been sated. “I want more than empty words.” He states flatly, unforgivingly.

Still, he lets go of your throat, letting you drop to his chest, panting sore breaths with his words ringing hot in your head. You start kissing between sipping for air – desperately, up his neck and jaw, then his lips, even though he doesn’t kiss back – pleading, “Please forgive me- I’m sorry, I-”

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” He mocks, stroking the back of your head, down your back as though soothing you – voice dripping with fake empathy. “Sorry for what exactly? Hm? For being a dumb little bitch, thinking you could run when you haven’t even so much as walked on your own two feet for months.”

A laugh inches into his words like a sickness. The eerie smile returns, small and curling in the corner of his mouth.

“You were fuckin’ hilarious, you know that?” He breathes lightly – eyes wide, staring at you like cornered prey. “Trippin’ over yer own two feet, barely even making it to the door.”

The grip around your throat returns, and you squeak out a whimper.

“Say it.” He seethes, “Say you’re a dumb little bitch who didn’t know what you were doing.” His lips ghost yours with the command, forcing you to echo the words back into his mouth.

“I’m- I’m a dumb little bitch- I’m- I didn’t know what I was doing-” 

He hums at your shivering but doesn’t ease his grip – molding his lips against yours, he kisses you deeply until parting with your lips between his teeth – letting go slowly.

“I- I’ll be good from now on, I promise-” You add – in the hope it would thaw the ice of his stare.

It doesn’t. He keeps them just as jaded – half-masted now as he runs his fingers up and down your spine, brushing your chin and cheek with his lips until blowing on your ear. “You better be.”

You shudder, wincing.

“‘Cause if you ever try anything like that again, I’m gonna go get that bat – and nothing and no one is gonna keep me from bashing away at you until I’ve made certain you can’t lift a single fucking finger without my help.”

You’re a broken mess of sniveling apologies and prayers on his lap by the time the brute comes back with the rope. 

But the one who’d reduced you to it doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. 

“There you are!” He beams with a bright smile.

Acting as though you weren’t falling apart in his arms, gripping his shirt for purchase while sobbing hard and ugly into his chest. 

“Let’s tie every square inch of 'em up like you suggested.” He muses while picking your tear-stained face up in both hands, nose-kissing you with his words dripping fondly off his tongue. “Just like a floppy fish ready to be gutted.”

BNHA – BakuDeku, DabiHawks, EndMight, ShinKami, TodoDeku, KiriBaku, Shiggy x villain!Deku

JJK – SatoSugu, YujiKuna, YujiGumi

HQ – Miya twins, IwaOi,

BLLK – NagiReo, KuniGiri

AOT - EreMin

DS - InoTan, DouAka

HxH – HisoIllu

[noastea]

DSMP Hybrids - Part 1

- Demon Hybrids

⸻

✦ For my DSMP headcanons of hybrids on the server, I decided to work a bit on the anatomy and characteristics of each species, starting by Demons!

Note: There's a difference for full-blood demons, such as cBad and the others; I'll be focusing mainly on the hybrids rather than the full demons.

⤷ During the time I made this drawing I had only worked on 3 demon hybrids: cEryn, cTommy and cSapnap, however I was reminded that Tina confirmed her character to be a demon, so she too is a demon hybrid in my headcanons (I'll be working on her design later!)

HYBRIDS CHARACTERISTICS

⤷ Demon Hybrids have very similar characteristics in general: As beings with demon blood, they all are born with long tails and horns, with different sizes depending on their sex. They have long ears and scales around their body, that can be more or less proeminent depending on the person;

Although my first three designs have all different shades of red and black, these hybrids can also have dark shades of blue and purple (such as cTina);

⤷ For demon hybrids, their sex can affect their physiognomy. Some of the charistics I worked on were:

For AMAB hybrids: They have longer tails with sharper tips and small horns;

For AFAB hybrids: Their tails are smaller with a round tip and bigger horns;

So, what about my cTommy design? I headcanon cTommy as an intersex person (He/She) which leads to him as having mixed traits from both sexes (Long tail with sharper tip and big horns); I'd like to point that hybrids can be born with traits of the other sex, although that's not cTommy's case :)

Demon Hybrids in general also very some strong fire resistence (they're not immune, just resistent), besides other quirks such as: Better eyesight at night and better hearing than humans.

Their hybrid organs are also essential for them: their tails are very important for balance and sense of spacial perception, whilst their horns are related to their hearing, so damadging those parts could cause serious injuries - Example: cTommy got her horns destroyed during cDream's beating in prison, and although they were restored on revival, she's deaf on her left ear, besides injuries on his tail during exile, she gets clumsier after that.

So yeah, they're definitely not decorations but functional organs.

cTina also has serious injuries on her horns, making her almost completely deaf on both ears;

For cEryn, he's one of the few hybrids that doesn't have any scales around his body like cTommy and cSapnap do;

Some background information: Demon Hybrids aren't exactly common, so for all of them on the server meeting each other was kind of a surprise, maybe less for cTommy as he met cEryn during his childhood, but yeah, still a bit rare.

That'll be it for now for the demon hybrids. I plan on working on cTina's design once I'm done on the Bovidae hybrids (cTubbo, cPuffy and cSchlatt)

Thanks for those who read this! :>

[amomentsescape]

Yandere slashers and sinclair brothers with a reader that is pregnant and therfore much more clingy and cuddly and emotionally attached?

Yandere! Slashers with Reader That is Pregnant and Super Clingy

Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester

Warnings: Typical Yandere behavior, pregnancy of course

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Also, starting today, I will be including the Sinclair brothers in ALL future Slasher requests by default!

Freddy Krueger

Ah, he knew you'd come around

Even just hearing your voice has him sprinting to you, wanting nothing more than to tend to you

Seeing you reach out and ask for his affection leaves him with the biggest grin you've ever seen

Won't give you any time alone either

Wherever he is, you are

Will rub his hand over your growing stomach whenever he holds you

Just know now that you've given him a taste of what it's like to be wanted, he's not going to let you change that even once you have the baby

Michael Myers

He will complain about this newfound clinginess of yours

He enjoyed when you were more standoffish, and he had to force you to give him the attention he desired

Things feel just a little too easy now

He just hopes things will go back to how they were before once you have the child

Although, there still won't be much time alone with a baby crying all the time

But he misses the old you

It's why he took you in the first place

Jason Voorhees

God, why couldn't it be like this all of the time?

He actually feels needed and desired in a way that he didn't before

Hearing you call for him and feeling you squished against his side makes him even happier about you being pregnant (if that's even possible)

Will silently thank your full belly every night while you're sleeping, grateful that you need him so much

He really hopes this affection for him grows along with your stomach

He needs you, and now you need him

It's exactly what he wanted

Thomas Hewitt

He is almost unable to keep up with your demands, but God does he love it

You can call him names, scream at him, do whatever you want if it means he gets to hold you like this all of the time

Will rub your feet, spoon you, and massage your back if your heart desires

Will constantly check in on you

Hell, he has barely left the house for the last couple weeks

Not only because he wants to take care of you

He just enjoys how much attention you're giving him

And he wants to soak it all up while he has the chance

Bubba Sawyer

You've never seen him so happy and giggly before

Every single smile or touch you give him sends him into a fit of bubbly energy

But if you give him a little, he takes it to a lot

A simple hug will have him rolling you over and squeezing you like your life depended on it

A kiss on the cheek has him pressing his lips on every square inch of your skin

Thankfully, you don't mind right now

Any other person would find it to be overbearing, but you can't help but relish in it

He hopes this will never change and will only increase once the baby is born

Brahms Heelshire

He loves the constant affection

There's no limit to this man on how much you can give him

But he can't help the slight feeling of dread that pools in his stomach

He knows the pregnancy is aiding in this change

And he fears that once the baby is born, all attention towards him will be put towards the child or will disappear altogether

He can send himself into fits of rage just by thinking too much about this situation

Be gentle with him, and it will all be fine

But now that you've given him a taste of what he so desperately desires, there's no way you can go back

He will never let you

Norman Bates

Any single look or word you say to Norman has him flushing the darkest shade of red you've ever seen

His stuttering increases, he finds himself clumsier than usual, and he can barely sleep at night

He acts like a little boy with a crush

And the fact that you're carrying his child only increases that giddy feeling inside of him

He's still hesitant to initiate anything with you, but he will never say no to you if you ask him for anything

He feels so happy, like his dreams are coming true

He can't wait for you all to be a little family

And if this is what it's like whenever you're pregnant...

He's going to want a big family

Billy Loomis

Billy likes a challenge, but now you're just giving in so easily

He can't say he doesn't mind it though

He may act all cool and tough about you being so clingy with him, but there's a part of him that loves having you depend on him

He's your lover and provider

He likes it this way

But the moment you seem just the slightest bit off, he is going in on you, starting arguments and making accusations that aren't even true

So be careful where you tread

You've ignited something in him, and he likes it

Stu Macher

This works out for Stu because knowing you're carrying his child also brings out his clingy and affectionate side

It's like being one and the same, always seeming to call out for each other at the same time

He's a big foodie, so you bet he'll always bring you your favorite snacks

He might even become more comfortable and let you out in public with him occasionally

He thrives off of your attention

Will talk to your belly and say how lucky they've made him

Becomes the tiniest bit delusional and believes that you won't ever leave him now

Not that you really wanted to, but if you did, he would never let you

Vincent Sinclair

Your sudden increase in attention has Vincent all bashful

Will immediately become more shy but loves every second of it

Will beg on his knees if you ask him to

He's willing to go to literally any length to make you (and the baby) happy

Will lay and spend time with you for however long you ask

He's also big into getting you food and drinks that you're craving

As long as you hug him and tell him just how much you love him, he'll do anything for you

Bo Sinclair

He has mixed feelings about the sudden change in your neediness

It does boost his ego quite a bit and makes him feel like you really need him

You're just so helpless so of course he needs to help you

But at the same time, he's a bit annoyed

He has plenty of things to do

Spending 24/7 with you and giving you affection all the time isn't his thing

It all depends on what mood you catch him in

If he's feeling good, you being clingy doesn't bother him

But if he's already irritated, you being all over will only make it worse

Just tread carefully around him

Lester Sinclair

He can feel himself melt every time you ask for a simple hug or kiss

Feeling you crawl into bed with him in the middle of the night plasters the biggest smile on his face

He lives for your attention and touch

You could slap him and he'd be happy

Anytime you cuddle up to him, he's immediately reaching for your growing belly, wanting to give his child some attention too

Will compliment you repeatedly over your new found attachment

Prays every night that this is a permanent change

[soap-ify]

simon would definitely guide you while you are touching yourself. (f!reader)

simon knew how you somewhat sucked at touching yourself, just not the best at figuring out how to relieve that ache between your legs with your fingers. toys seemed complicated too. plus you had simon, right?

but he wanted to see you touch yourself, callused hands pressing soft repeated kisses on your pouty lips after your initial protests.

“i’ll look too dumb, si…”

“no, love. you’re goin’ to look like the prettiest thing ever.”

your right hand was in between your parted legs, your panties already tossed aside. you swallowed nervously, looking at the way simon was seated in front of you on the bed his brown eyes observing you.

“si…” an unintentional whine left your lips, your hand stopping right in front of your puffy folds, feeling as if you had forgotten everything. what were you supposed to do again?

he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, his lips twitching up a bit as he leaned forward, his warm breath brushing against your neck soothingly. “want me to guide you, love?” he asked, voice all gruff that made your heart melt, earning a desperate nod from you.

“m’kay. first gently touch that pretty clit. nice and slow.” he shifted on the bed and got behind you, pressing his back against the headboard while your back was nicely snuggled into his firm chest, his strong arms wrapping around your neck loosely — his body all big and burly behind you, embracing you and making you feel small in front of him.

your fingers gently begin to gather some slick from your cunt before beginning to lightly touch your clit, feeling it pulsate beneath your fingertips, rubbing it ever so gently. a shudder left you as you leaned backwards into him, spreading your legs a bit wider, your breath hitching.

“doin’ so good f’me. you’re always such a good girl f’me, aren’t you?” he pressed soft kisses on the top of your head, and you could only nod in response, pretty noises leaving your lips.

you gradually begin rubbing your puffy clit with a bit more pressure, your toes curling at the sensitivity, simon’s praises making you feel so lightheaded.

he always knew how to make you more confident in your actions.

“let’s try addin’ in a finger, yeah?” his words slowly coaxed your middle finger to shyly prob your tight entrance, feeling how soaked you already were, pushing your finger in as you clumsily tried to thrust it in and out, mimicing what simon does to you.

it wasn’t helping at all, your one hand was focused on your puffy clit while your other on fucking you with your fingers — the dual tasks making you all the more slower and clumsier, brain feeling too blank.

“c-can’t, si—! m’too tight…” you sniffled, feeling pathetic. you pulled your finger out and just focused on your poor throbbing clit, rubbing it gently.

it was so hard for simon to hold in that grin of his, resting his head on your shoulder while his eyes watched your fingers sloppily rub your cunt.

“s’okay… so proud of you, baby. rub a bit faster, okay?” he kissed the back of your ear, causing your brows to ease up, fingers following his guidance while his hands gently started massaging your tits through the fabric of your shirt.

soon enough, your orgasm did wash over you, your body convulsing in pleasure, shaky moans leaving your lips before you collapsed onto him fully, panting softly.

“mmh, si…” you dreamily sighed, your fingers coated with your slick. simon slowly bought your trembling hand up and let his tongue clean them up, tasting your sweetness. “so fuckin’ tasty.” he snickered, causing you to whine tiredly.

“didn’t feel as good as you…” you pouted.

he really had spoiled you rotten.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Christian Woman

König x Nun!Reader

Word count: 12.5 k Tags/warnings: 18+ pure FLUFF & SMUT & COMFORT

First time/loss of virginity, implied consent, teasing, corruption kink, fingering, cunnilingus, thighing/intercrural sex, protected p in v. Silly, sweet, kind of innocent, kind of naughty. Romance, forbidden love trope, love as a religion, happy ending. 

Part 3/3

Everytime König enters your life, you start to lie.

You lie about where you’re going and where you’ve been, you lie about who you see and what you do. People think you’ve helped some foreign man to hospital, that you were away last night to make sure he got safely into treatment. You told them he was some poor fellow who got stabbed and robbed on the street and that you called the ambulance from his phone and that the police needed to see you today for further questioning. 

You lie and lie and lie, and then slip out to see König, who’s hopefully alive and still in the same place you left him last night.

When you enter the old, half-demolished building now serving as a B&B, the same old man from last night looks up with wary eyes. He immediately relaxes back to reading his paper when he sees you’re only the harmless, grey nun from last night. 

You sneak upstairs without exchanging a word with him and go straight to König’s door. Giving it a quick knock and uttering, “It’s me,” you half expect to get shot through the wooden entrance. But there only comes a happy “Come in” from behind the door, and you notice König hasn’t even locked the damn thing. Is he expecting you, or is he simply that confident with his gunslinger skills?

Turns out he’s probably both, because you freeze right there on the doorstep when you step in.

He’s wearing nothing but boxers this time, and your eyes fly straight back to his eyes after being glued to the prominent package between his legs for far too long. And good God, the man’s got some muscles on those legs... 

“Hallo, Kätzchen,” he greets, giving you an obnoxiously flirty smile upon noticing how flustered you look.

“You… You shouldn’t be up yet,” you quickly turn to close the door. 

“I have to use the bathroom, no?”

He looks at you from across the room, so innocent and sweet and, at the same time, so mischievous that you don’t know what to do or where to look. He’s gotten rid of the hood, but there are traces of black paint around his eyes, it still clings to his brows, making him look like someone who just came home from a carnival. You want to go to him and wipe it away and tell him that he missed a spot and that he’s clumsier than you thought, but you can’t... You can only fall deeper into your awkward shyness as he raises his brows. 

He turns what appears to be the shreds of his old shirt in his hands, then dumps it into the bin, suddenly a little nervous too. There are moments when you have suspected that König might suffer from social anxiety or shyness around people, but he covers it very well. Around you, the man seems to be at ease, flirts and jokes with you often and is very straightforward with his intentions.

You wonder if he likes you so much simply because you are unattainable. 

Maybe you represent some girl next door to him, perhaps you remind him of his first love. Perhaps you happen to be something so sweet, innocent, and unreachable that he feels strong and safe in your company. Perhaps holding hands and trading a few passionate kisses feels safer than going after a real relationship… Perhaps this Will they, won’t they situation is enough excitement for him, too.

Or perhaps König has been so wounded by women that he prefers to be around a frigid – or at least very virginal – nun rather than face the dangers of approaching a real, attainable woman.

But flaunting himself like this in front of you is yet another clear sign that he, at the very least, loves to tease you to death. He looks like he’s in far better condition than yesterday, and starts to peel off the bandage like it’s just a scratch he suffered. 

“Let me help you with that,” you rush to him, silently relieved when he lets you clean the wound and change the bandage. He even lays himself down to be treated by you and smiles with his signature grin as you fuss around him.

“Not a word,” you risk a glance his way while gently cleaning the wound.

“Not a word,” he promises with a cheeky smile, and gets another erection. 

It’s even worse when he’s wearing nothing but his underwear... You can see the bulge stretching the fabric, forming a tight, thick curve right next to you as you try to focus on your task.

“Perhaps you should put some clothes on,” you offer while trying to concentrate on examining the skin for any signs of irritation.

“Eh. They’re dirty.”

“I can go and ask if they have a laundry room here,” you propose. “I could wash them for you. Do you need a new shirt?”

Ugh, what a stupid question...

“Why not,” he shrugs. “If the view is unpleasant...”

“Behave yourself now,” you say with a soft smile. “XL…?”

“At least.”

He must be getting better if he’s behaving like this... The man’s insufferable enough when he’s uninjured, but now that he’s getting pampered, he’s somehow even worse. You bite your lip as he dares to moan on the bed, too. You’ve brought him food last night, and he’s being treated carefully and touched softly, he’s getting his clothes washed for him, he’s got his own personal nun worrying about him 24/7. Of course he’s moaning.

And you’re in danger because you just love to pamper him. It feels more meaningful to treat his wounds and run on errands than do the eternal dishes at the convent. You feel like you’re saving a life here... Like someone actually needs you, depends on you. You feel so wanted, and König seems to fully agree with you.

“I could live the rest of my life like this,” he purrs on the bed as you gently put a fresh bandage in place.

“I have no doubt about that.”

“Are you really going to get me a new shirt…?” He asks with bright puppy eyes – the faked innocence is so blatant you want to throw a pillow over that face.

“If you give me some money to buy one, then yes.”

“You can have as much as you want. Buy yourself something nice while you’re at it, hmm? As a reward.”

“I don’t do this for the sake of rewards.”

“I know... But you could buy yourself anything you want. A new dress, new jeans, lingerie… Give me a little fashion show when you get back?”

König knows you’re probably the last woman on earth who’s interested in shopping sprees, let alone new jeans or sexy lingerie. Your only summer dress resides at your parent’s house as a relic from the past, a token from your life before sisterhood. But that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t want to see his face when you do a little twirl before his bed, wearing nothing but a laced bra and some matching strings… 

“Give you a fashion show?” you laugh. “When did thanking me turn into you profiting from it?”

“I’m just saying... If you need new underwear, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

You snort and shake your head slowly. “You’re far too cheeky when you’re injured. I truly hope you get better soon.” 

“I don’t,” he crosses his arms behind his head, looking perfectly pleased with himself while lying there in nothing but his underwear. “And neither do you.”

“Excuse me? Of course I do…!”

“No, I don’t think so. You like to take care of people, I can see it. You’d make a good field medic.”

“I doubt that.”

“You remain calm under pressure,” he says. “And you take good care of me.”

“That’s only because you were silly enough to get shot.”

“...And I would do it again if it leads to this,” he grins.

“Cheeky,” you shake your head reprimandingly. “Far too cheeky.”

“You are an angel,” he says gently. “And I mean that.”

You rise to put the trash in the bin, then look back at him. “No, I’m not. I’m just some woman you bumped into in the street.”

“That’s exactly what an angel would say.”

You sigh: it’s useless with König, hopeless, like trying to wrestle with God. No matter what you say or do, he always turns it against you in the sweetest possible way. It’s like he's stripping away pieces of your armour – you fear nothing will be left before this visit is done.

“Did you eat any of the food I brought you…? You need to eat something, and drink a lot of water–” You take a look at the side table, noticing he has already eaten everything you got him last night. “Gosh. You must be getting better if you have an appetite like this...”

König only laughs on the bed. “I’m sorry, Kätzchen, but that was just a snack.”

You brought him three sandwiches, at least a dozen apples and a bag of walnuts, but they’re all gone. Of course a soldier of his size eats like a horse, and he needs all the food he can get, having gone through the wringer last night.

“I’d kill for a Schnitzel and a tall beer,” he sighs dreamily on the bed, no doubt knowing you well enough to tell that you’ll get him anything he wants if he only plays this wounded soldier role right. 

You begin to doubt if his injuries were ever that serious. It just looked bad last night because he was so tired, and there was blood everywhere... With a bleak blink, you realize most of the blood you cleaned off of him last night probably wasn’t his own.

He’s in a cheery mood now, looking at you hopefully from the bed, arms crossed behind him, legs out long, wearing nothing but those stupid black boxers and that goshdarned, sweet smile.

“Do you think you could get me one of those big Schnitzels somewhere…? You know, the really big ones.”

“Maybe,” you cross your arms over your chest, and furrow your brow when he visibly perks up on the bed a little. “I said maybe. We’ll see. And you’ll get water instead of beer.”

“Shame.”

“You don’t need alcohol right now. Plus I can’t just go and buy beer looking like this.”

He smiles. The man’s all smiles today… Probably because of all the blood loss. Or maybe because you’re the girl next door who’s going to bring him his favourite food. 

“Of course not,” he says, with hazy love in his eyes. “I am already forever in your debt, Kätzchen.”

…

It’s not a sin to take a nap together.

That’s what you tell yourself as you curl next to König after you bring him his Schnitzel, shirt, and a few bottles of sparkling water. 

“There’s plenty of room for both. Come on, I won’t bite,” he shifts on the bed and extends his hand to invite you in. 

You lay yourself down next to him and tell yourself it’s just to please a recovering man. There’s nothing sexual about it, so why not?

Still, your body is singing by the time he takes your hand in his own, wrapping both your arms around your middle like you’re an established couple about to get some sleep together.

Raindrops are slowly tapping on the window, and you tell yourself you’re just resting your eyes a bit as your lids drift closed. König is already snoring behind you, with another erection pressed against your back. You’re not intimidated by it: it only feels natural to cuddle him like this. The rain turns into a languid rap, and you know you won’t be leaving this building in a while. With the contentment of a cat who’s finally warm and safe, you fall into a deep sleep.

You stir after an hour or two, waking up to such a pleasant, safe feeling you don’t quite remember when you’ve ever felt this good. König has buried his face in your neck, somewhere in the folds of your coif, probably in an attempt to reach some skin. He pulls you closer when you try to shift, rumbling contently behind you.

“Sleep well…?”

“Mm...”

The moment is so lazy and cosy you don’t want to get up. A large, warm hand flexes against your stomach as König buries his face deeper under the veil. He reaches the skin of your neck and inhales deeply, making all the tiny hairs across your body shoot up. 

You let him kiss you there, and he does it with reverence, like he’s kissing a holy idol. It’s chaste enough but makes you go taut in his hold – in fact, you have to use all your willpower not to moan out loud.

“I think I need to go now,” you whisper, doing absolutely nothing to act on that threat.

“Mm–hm,” he agrees while keeping your body hugged tight against him. 

“König… Really, I need to get back...”

“Ja... Ok,” he mutters, hand traveling up the thick black cotton of your habit. It meets your breast and cups it without shame. You feel the hot, hard length twitching against your back, making leaving this bed less and less tantalizing.

You whine when he starts to fully paw your breast, thrusting his hips up and against your butt. The kiss turns into a love bite right after as he starts to use teeth on your neck – your back arches on instinct, a broken sigh slipping through your lips. He can't be serious... A hickey-covered neck is the last souvenir you want to bring back from this nap.

“You said you wouldn’t bite,” you whimper, but he just laughs softly. The sound is thick and breathless, cinders and smoke so close to your ear that you’re shamefully wet even without his other… advances.

The afternoon is mellow, it has stopped raining, but you wish you could stay on this spun sugar bed with him forever. You know what you want already; in your heart, you’ve made a giant decision, but the overwhelming realisation is too much to bear. 

And so you rip yourself away from his arms and flee once again. He’s the devil himself, smiling on the bed with another proud erection tenting his pants. Rushing back to the convent, adjusting your veil as you go, your mind is plagued with the image of König reaching a hand down those boxers and enjoying a long, drowsy masturbation session while you have to hurry home for Mass.

Christ… 

It only took 24 hours to make you melt in his arms like snow.

And the “naps” become a habit as you haul him food or clothes, new from the store or clean and warm from the drier. You bring him a fresh pair of boxers, too, since he only had the clothes on his back when he was shot. He’s ever so grateful for his saving angel, who he gets to cuddle “as a reward”. You don’t quite know if it's a reward for you or him.

Sometimes, he’s cleaning his gun or doing wall pushups when you arrive, indicating that he’s still recovering but getting better every day – and more restless by the minute. At some point, you’re not even napping anymore; you only lay down with him to snuggle and make out, feeling like a shy teen when you only let him touch you over your clothes. His hands explore you literally everywhere except between your legs because that’s when you gently guide his eager paws away.

You wonder if this is what drugs feel like to some people. You’re fully in the present moment, swimming in a soft bliss, calm and whole and sweet and good. Everything in the world is just as it should be.

“If you ever come to Austria, I will take you to the mountains,” König mumbles nonsense into your hair, freed one day from the confines of your veil and coif. It’s a surrender in every meaning of the word – your clothes are the last literal protection you have against his attempts to worship you.

“Perhaps we’ll stay there... Forget all this,” he chatters lazily, clearly in the same sweet bubble as you. “Ja, that sounds good… I’ll keep you there until you come to your senses.”

“That sounds like a kidnapping scenario,” you comment with a soft smile on your lips.

“Ah. My plan is ruined.” 

You crane your head to look at him. “No... Not ruined.” 

“No?”

“Just exposed.”

You figure it was only a matter of time before this snuggle turned into another make out session. This time, the shared kiss is purposeful, full of presence and slow need. The anxiety is gone, the rights and wrongs of this world tucked somewhere far away.

“We need to stop doing this,” you whisper into his mouth, brain turning into mush from the way he holds you so gently.

“Why…? It feels nice…”

You can’t argue with that, and when his hands start to travel, you do nothing to stop them. 

He slides a palm down your curves, pulls you closer by the waist, cups your butt when you don’t seem to protest. Usually, this sort of behaviour has been a little too much, you have treated it as a bridge that shouldn’t be crossed. Now, you let his hand travel down your thigh, you allow him to grab a handful of your skirt and slowly, slowly drag it up.

When you still don’t protest, his unhurried kiss turns into a delighted, hungry one. 

He finds nothing but skin underneath your dress, and starts to explore your thigh with a trembling hand. He's warm and big, both gentle and calloused, and you can’t help but think how obscene you must look with your black robes dragged up like that, a man’s hand desperately searching for the treasure between your legs while your mouths devour each other in a slow, sloppy kiss. 

His fingers slide up, up, up until they meet the fabric of your panties, then come to a halt right above the mound of your sex. In both horror and thrill, you find your thighs parting, inviting him in, heart racing in your chest as König finds your underwear not only wet but soaked through.

That’s when he groans – into your mouth, hot breaths hitting your face as he examines you through the panties like it’s business as usual that you’re so wet. You’re both ashamed and exhilarated – you haven’t even shaved. And he’s about to…

“Mh–”

You feel him probe the side of the fabric, then casually sliding your poor, soaked underwear aside. Your wet folds are exposed to cold air and warm fingers; the last of your armour, your pride and shame and vows, drift away like they were made of nothing but simple steam. 

He drags his fingers across your folds, unhurried and pleased to meet you so ready. The fact that this man could crush your windpipe or break your spine, he could grab your thighs and force them apart like sticks, have his way with you if he wanted, doesn’t make you afraid of him like it probably should. You know he would never hurt you, but the intensity, the intimacy in his glare and touch, are enough to make the air around you feel electric. 

“You’ve never been with anyone…?” 

The question is breathless and thick, causing your core to tighten.

“No…” 

Is it that obvious…?

“Hmm.”

“‘Hmm’ what…?”

“Nothing. You’re sweet.”

He doesn’t try to steal a peek at your glistening sex, all bared and slick for him. He only has eyes for you. Your rushed breaths, how they hitch in your throat when he brushes a thumb over your clit. Your lids, fluttering over defenceless eyes as you try to search for something to ground you. But there’s nothing to hold on to but him, so you anchor yourself in the dark hunger of his eyes.

“I tried to leave you alone. I truly tried, Kätzchen… But you’re so sweet it’s illegal.”

The words hit you, loaded with lust, but you’re too weak to answer him anymore. Pitch-black darkness stares back at you as the sounds of your drenched pussy fill the room. You want to touch him too, but you’re too shy, still trying to silence the buzzing beehive of your brain and come to terms with the fact that this is actually happening. 

“I should’ve come back for you… I knew I should have, right away. I was too dumb, meine Liebling…”

Starved and dreamy, he looks down at you, whole body tight as you hold on to him and take in his confession. Only, you feel like you’re the one who’s confessing here… He seems to read you like a book, giving you just enough to keep that adoring look on your face.

He slips a finger in, and you stop breathing for a second, the room seems to go darken, even when it’s high noon. Time slows down while your heart thunders in your chest, giving you a sense of urgency where there is none. Pulling out and adding another finger straight away, he ushers a mewl out of you.

Your fingers curl around his shirt, pulling and tugging it as you try to keep intact. A deep rumble echoes in his chest when he sees you so pliant, clutching him like you’re drowning. 

“I know you want this,” he says, voice so rough that you barely recognize it’s him. “Don’t hold back…”

You try to beg him for more but the words come out as a whimper without a voice, causing something dark to flash behind his eyes. That’s all the reply you get: a pleased, filthy stare of someone who’s about to wreck you up. He must like his victims like this, too: on their backs, begging for mercy before he finishes them…

Blinking in despair, you try to drive the intrusive thoughts away, but he’s already upon you. Crossing the last breath of air between you, he captures your mouth in his.

You can do nothing but take, take, take: his fingers and his mouth, greedy for the rapture that’s already blooming in the distance, rising like a tidal wave. He won’t stop kissing you even when you spread your legs further – to what end, you don’t even know, because he fucks you without effort, keeps you pressed against him in a way that says you’re his.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tasting him, your whole body going tense before you erupt with a miserable, pained moan.

You reach the peak and break, right into his mouth, around his fingers, the weight of it all almost unbearable. He groans on your tongue, kissing you while you milk his fingers, your inner walls hugging him in waves.

Nothing moves except you, the shudders and squirms gradually leaving your body while he draws circles on your clit, lazy and somewhat absent-minded, like you’re his favourite toy now.

The release brings with it a roaring wave of sadness, a deep grief, something that has been locked up inside you for months – no, years, now brought to the surface from the bottom of a stagnant sea.

He lets you go reluctantly, releasing your mouth so you can breathe more freely. Burying his face into your neck, you decide to do the same, escaping to the solace of his strength while trying to prevent tears from welling up. 

König doesn’t yet understand that your release continues as a cleansing wave of relief; he only pulls out, slowly and carefully, gently sets your panties back where they were, straightens your dress, and hugs you as if nothing ever happened. 

You start to cry in full, not even knowing why. You just know you’ve wanted this for ages. This connection, this ecstasy, this mutual presence and fulfilment, this sense of belonging to someone. 

“Scheiße… Did I do something wrong?” 

König finally realizes you’re crying, and grows taut from the middle like an iron cord. The pure concern in his voice only makes you bawl louder and grip him tighter, and the man starts to veritably panic.

“Kätzchen, I–”

“No, no,” your jaw is shaking as you try to explain. “I just… It’s…”

You’re hugging him so tight that you don’t know where you end and he begins, but as König caresses your back, swallowing as he does it, you eventually come back down to planet Earth and back to this bed. 

“Did you like it…?” He asks, still with so much worry that you could announce your love for this man right away.

“Yes… Very much.”

“Gut.”

You think about returning the favour, but selfishly, you’d want nothing more than to stay here like this, in his arms, for just a few more minutes. Or an hour... Well, if you got to decide, you’d stay here for the rest of your life.

“Come here,” he says while you’re already locked in an inseparable embrace. He doesn’t make a single move to coax you into touching him in return, and after a few seconds, your voice comes out as a frail question.

“Should I… Do you want me to–?”

“Shh.”

…

Six months without him. 

Six months, and now you couldn’t bear to be apart from him for six hours.

You’re glad you were sensible enough to shave before running to him that morning. Making up more excuses about how you’re seeing your friend because she just suffered a terrible loss and needs some spiritual and emotional support, you sneak a couple of blocks down the street to see König. If anyone suspects something, they say nothing, but you feel the lies as a grimy cloak upon your shoulders as you hurry up the stairs of the B&B.

The shadows dissipate when König catches you in his arms. You get smothered with kisses as he spins you around, making you chastise him for being so careless with the wound. 

It’s, of course, difficult to scold a man who’s kissing you so profusely… You’re starting to feel like he wants it to open again so that he never has to leave this place. To be honest, you wouldn’t mind it either if you two stayed here forever.

“You’re crazy, and silly, and I like you,” you tell him while looking down at him – a strange thing to do, even if the man has picked you up like this once before. 

“Is that so?” 

His eyes always light up when he sees you, but now, he looks like a man in love.

“Yes... I like you a lot.”

“And I like you. Do you want to see how much?” 

He gives you that slightly crooked grin that reminds you of feline predators, or fantasy creatures who are up to no good. He also moves quickly for a man of his size, and before you know it, you’re thrown on the bed like a sack of potatoes. As you laugh and try to adjust yourself on the bedding, he’s already on his knees, head quickly disappearing under your robe.

God, he’s not going to–

“What are you doing…?” 

“Giving you a kiss,” comes a muffled voice under your dress.

He’s headed straight between your legs, two days worth of coarse stubble scraping the insides of your thighs as he goes.

“But… But what about your injuries?” You try to scurry upwards on the bed, hands shooting instinctively to hold his head in place before he does something utterly shameless. 

“König–”

“Sei ruhig.” 

God – you’re not the most confident woman when it comes to these things to begin with. It’s one thing for a man to lay his fingers on you and look you in the eyes while you cum, and another thing entirely to place his mouth where you’re wet and aching. 

What if he won’t like it...?

What if you’re not beautiful enough there? 

...What if you taste odd? 

You’re shy, as any woman would be on their first time getting head. You’re infinitely grateful to yourself for shaving because there’s a delighted, surprised sound under the robe when König strips you from your underwear.

“For me…?” 

He’s smiling at your pussy, voice dampened by the thick cotton, and you thank God that he can’t see your mortified face right now.

You brace yourself for a delicate kiss, maybe a tentative lick or two. But the soft tenderness of yesterday is gone as König presses his whole face into your sex, giving it a good inhale followed by a good, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. 

Wrenched awake from your semi-relaxed state, you jerk up on the bed as he does it again. Then come the flat-tongued, starved licks – your pussy wakes up after recovering from the initial shock, giving a full throb against his stubbled jaw. König breathes a short laugh against you, pleased with this response.

The noise of him “kissing” you is obscene and only gets worse when he drags his tongue up and down your slit. You truly hope the doors here are solid wood because you can’t stifle all the sounds that escape you. For some reason, it is vital for you not to let the old receptionist know that a humble sister of Christ is getting licked to ruin in his establishment. 

You’re stunned, and a bit appalled – was this all it took to turn your nose up to your vows? A big man with big arms and a big gun? Some guy who wants to get under your dress after a few weeks of acquaintance…?

Because that’s what this is, a few weeks’ acquaintance currently under your robes, eating you out like you’re his last meal. 

The things you’ve imagined him do to you are shameful; even now, you fantasize about König picking you up and taking you against a wall when he gets better. This man treats you right, he treats you sweet, but you want more, you need something earthly and raw, and him lapping you under your habit is precisely that. It’s ravenous and adorable at the same time, so conflicting that you don’t know who you are anymore. 

You’re going through several stages of ego death and bliss; you’re going through a crisis of faith and multiple rebirths while König is having a field day with your pussy. It should concern you that he’s so eager to wreck you like this. It should arouse suspicion that the playful aura of this man changes whenever he gets between your legs... He becomes deliciously dark somehow, dark and base and addictive, and you wind into another plane of existence with him, to someplace only reserved for you two. 

“König,” you whisper. “I’m– I’m about to cum…”

“Uh-huh. You have my permission.” 

It’s dark, again, so smooth and rich that your inner walls clench, then flood with pleasure and pain. The inevitable orgasm is thigh-shaking and soul-ripping, your moans long and pitiful now. They’re not whimpers but cries, bare and pained as he continues to bully you with his tongue, grunting silky sin into your core. 

You can feel yourself leak on his chin as you cum, violently, forgetting the whole existence of the man downstairs. He turns you into an overstimulated, limp, heady mess – your chest is heaving by the time König emerges from under your robes.

“Oh God…” 

It simply escapes from your lips when you see how wet his jaw is. There’s a pussydrunk look in his eyes as he takes a look at his good work.

All thoughts of What if he doesn’t enjoy it evaporate when you see the demanding erection between his legs, pointing at you so viciously that you feel pity for the fabric of his pants.

“Ja... I made you see God?”

“Stop it… You’re so cheeky...”

“Eh. And you’re technically still a virgin. We need to fix that, don’t you think?”

“I don’t feel like a virgin.” 

“Well… I can take the blame.” He gives you a naughty little wink. “Remember? I would go to hell for you.”

And as if you weren’t in over your head already, he starts to drag your robes up. Too limp to do anything about him unravelling you like that – not even wanting to prevent it – you continue to catch your breath as his eyes go wide.

“This is what you’ve been hiding under here all this time…?”

He tucks the thick fabric up until your breasts are exposed. You’re not wearing any bra; you stopped wearing them years ago as useless and immoral. Your nipples perk up from excitement under his stare, your panties wrenched down in a hurry, now crumpled and forgotten somewhere between your thighs – the look on his face is priceless as he takes in the view of your exposed body like you’re a Christmas present he just opened. 

“You naughty girl…” he says thickly, and while you’ve received plenty of attention these last two days, it still makes you feel odd to be adored like this. His hawk eyes fly back to you, the corner of his mouth tugging up with some new, nasty idea.

“Want to see what I got?”

Oh God…

You don’t even get to express your consent – which would be enthusiastic – before König pulls the waistband of his boxers down. 

The cock that springs free is long and thick, heavy and red-pink from the tip that’s pointing straight at you. Curving slightly to the side, it’s even bigger than you thought, somehow having been rendered harmless by his pants, making it seem hefty but never that tall.

Your friend was right about him – tall men have tall dicks… Big hands indicate a big dick, too, you remember as you watch how he wraps tall, lean fingers around himself, giving his shaft a slow half-stroke. 

“You want to practice with me?”

You quickly rip your eyes up to his – you’re the world’s lousiest nun, caught staring at a cock like that. König only seems proud that you’re so intrigued by it, his eyes watching over you with dark amusement. 

“Uh–huh,” you swallow and nod – Christ, your voice is breaking… 

And whatever he means by “practising”, you can only hope that he’s not going to put it inside. There’s not even a condom for crying out loud. 

It’s a sigh-inducing thing when he gets to it, rests the heavy head of him on your clit, then drags the fat tip down across your folds.

“F–uck…” his head falls back a bit, lids fluttering closed from the way your slickness feels against him. That’s the most sensitive spot in a man – more of your friend’s advice floods your brain as you watch how he does it again, rasping while guiding himself up and down your slit.

You’ve never seen him so serious: his brows furrow together as he explores your folds, spreading your wetness all over himself while stroking his length. Agonizingly slow, you can see his balls hang heavy and gradually pull tight as he continues to work his cock. 

You know you should touch him, return the favour at last – but it’s hard to interrupt a moment like this. You’re mesmerized to see him already tensing from the chest up, the tendons on his neck becoming visible as he grits his teeth together.

“Kätzchen…” he rasps, “Would you mind if I…”

You fear that he’ll ask for permission to slip it inside, tempted and weak-willed. And to be honest, you’re not sure if you’d have the will to deny him.

But that’s not what he has in mind, apparently, as he begins to fist himself in a slack hurry, with half-lidded eyes and a slightly open mouth. He just wants to cum like this and ease the pain that must be terrible after days of sexual tension…

And seeing you laid out before him, naked and dreamy and bare, licked stupid just moments ago isn’t helping, that’s for sure.

“No,” you whisper, “No I won’t mind…”

You brave your heart to reach out and touch him: it’s just a shy hand gliding down his chest, but it makes him groan from pleasure. A brush of fingertips across his abs, and his muscles contract, and when you slide your palm over his hipbone and coax him to come closer, he finally leans forward and on top of you.

“Kätzchen…” he groans in whispers now. “You’re so wet…”

He could slip it in from this position, search for your opening and rough it inside. It’s tempting, so alluring that you almost say please – but that would be a catastrophe, and so you only look up at him, speechless when he supports himself on his hands and starts to glide up and down, fucking himself between your thighs. 

The bulged tip caresses your clit each time he pulls back – you doubt you can cum another time like this, but he sure as hell tries his everything to get you off too. 

“You want it…” he grunts above you. “You want me to fuck you. Right...?”

“Yes… But–”

“I’ll get a condom.”

“No, wait–” 

Now it's your turn to panic. You were always taught that condoms are unacceptable, while simultaneously, you know you could never do it raw, not even with König.

This is a moral choice you've never had to face before, and your brain is no use to you now. It's riddled with chants of Put it in and Forget about the bloody plastic because even with your zero experience you know it wouldn't feel as good as skin.

"No? It's a sin or something?" 

König pants above you, both tired and needy, and you nod with pleading eyes, not knowing what else to do. 

"Ok… Ok," he adjusts to the new reality while hovering on the brink of eruption. "I'll talk you out of it later..."

You give him a small smile, and he answers it with his own, slowly, starts to move again. Just the feel of the smooth surface of his cock dragging up and down your slit is enough to bite your lip and moan. Sliding your hands over his waist and down his butt, you give him a good squeeze–

And were he inside you, the effects would have been disastrous.

He cums abruptly, with a stiff, broken groan as soon as your nails dig into his skin. Hot, heavy seed meets your folds; it’s thick, the spurts neverending as he continues to fuck himself between your thighs with little control. How you still have anything left to give, you cannot comprehend, but the sudden, messy orgasm of this indomitable man makes you cum as well. 

Everything’s hot and sticky and dreamlike, almost pornographic, your thighs drenched in cum as he ruts through the orgasm with you. You roll your hips in sync with his, arriving at the end of your own mellow, beautiful peak, wondering how on earth it can only get better every time you have sex… 

The afterwaves are magical; you basically came together, and it hasn’t even been in yet. If this is what sex is like, mind-blowing and relaxing, hot and sweet and fulfilling with the right person, then you feel both dumb and proud for saving yourself for König.

And you’re starting to realize that you might just have a boyfriend…

No – not a boyfriend.

You have a man.

…

König orders food – or goes downstairs in nothing but his shirt and boxers and makes the poor man order it – while you lie in bed, under covers, still high from all the lovemaking. The room must be smelling like a sex cave by now. 

You take a quick shower while waiting for the delivery, mentally berating yourself for being so reckless. Having a man cum all over your folds is not exactly a safe way to practice sex… You’re doing everything wrong, asking König if he has any diseases when he comes back. 

He just pulls you back into his arms with a gentle laugh and says: “What do you take me for, a jerk? Of course I’m clean, silly kitty.”

That calms your nerves a little. You’re feeling anything but virginal right now, and putting on the black, heavy robes of a nun doesn’t sit well with you. You leave them on the floor, making König a very happy man by deciding to sit on the bed completely naked. 

You reach for the comforter when there’s a knock on the door, and clutch it against your chest like a paid woman while König pays the courier – still in his black boxers and t-shirt, like he’s just a guy who happens to live here.

“What...? Eat?”

The smell of Nepalese food fills the room: the rich, mouthwatering scents in stark contrast to what you’re used to at the convent’s kitchen. Butter chickens, lamb koftas and flatbreads are laid out steaming on the bed between you, and König attacks the food like someone who hasn’t seen a meal in weeks.

It makes you smile; him being so happy with simple things such as good food and some kinky sex, a nice cuddle and a nap to top it off. He munches on the food with his mouth open because it’s so hot – the man’s secretly so greedy that you can’t help but wonder if he had enough love, food and shelter as a child.

“Do you do this often?” You ask when he rips another handful of flatbread to dip in the sauce. 

“Seduce women.”

“Seduce…?” He laughs. “Kätzchen, I couldn’t seduce a woman even if I tried.”

You’re unsure if he’s dodging the question or being humble – or worse yet, if it means you’ve been an easy conquest.

“You just did,” you point out, realizing you’re sulking when König tilts his head with curiosity. 

“Oh. I’m sorry… Did it hurt?”

You grab a pillow to throw at him, but he dodges it and laughs.

“Careful with the food…!”

And of course he isn’t. 

You decide it’s useless with him, and besides, jealousy is not a good look. But you just can’t help it... You’re so in love that it’s not even funny anymore.

To you, he’s a hero and a God in one man, he’s both Satan and the Saviour. But to König, you’re probably just a nice foreign friend... Some cute nun he met months ago, who he finally gets to grope and taste and, hopefully, soon fuck. He says he doesn’t have time for women, and yet he licks you like a professional – not like you know what a professional in this area feels like, but it’s pretty clear that König is not a virgin even if you are. 

It must be nice to live a dangerous life and bump into women on the street... Woo them off their feet and leave them yearning, then get shot and cared for by some fussy, naive nun who’s head over heels for him. Perhaps it’s his favourite pastime hobby to torture ladies with flowers and letters and some cock and then leave like a cowboy. You wonder if he has a girl in every city – girls who aren’t nuns, girls who know how to show him a good time.

“Kitten... I’m not like that,” he says, a curry-drenched piece of bread dripping sauce over his fingers. “I only hold hands with you. Now that you finally let me.”

And you don’t know what’s more decadent: eating naked on the bed after making love, or being a Catholic nun who’s about to beg a man to fuck you, with or without a condom.

He finally notices he’s about to make a mess on the sheets, and gobbles the food as quickly as he can before there’s sauce all over the bed. Licking his fingers with dark, glimmering eyes set on you, you quickly focus your attention on the food.

The bastard is flirting with you every chance he gets, even when you two are trying to eat... 

“Is this what you call holding hands?” You ask, reaching for a piece of bread he's offering you.

König looks at you a while longer, with an expression he sometimes wears when conversing about serious, deep subject, the issues of God and Heart.

“This is what I call liking someone so much it hurts.”

…

König learns your body language; he knows it like a native speaker by the end of the week. 

You, on the other hand, learn that he’s ticklish on the sides of his stomach and behind the ears. You discover that he gets hard if you caress his abs or whisper in his ear that you like him... You learn everything about what kind of handjobs he likes; you find out that he almost rips the sheets apart when you take him in your mouth.

You lie on top of him, you lie under him, you let him hold you any way he likes. He moves you around like a doll, kisses you until you’re soaked, laughs into your neck when you tell him he’s being impossible again. He loves your breasts religiously, bites and nibs and licks them until you grab his head and tell him you can’t take it anymore. He has an oral fixation for your body and has to kiss every part of you: your inner thighs, your hip bones, the quivering place just below the navel; your neck and fingers and arms, even the arch of your foot. 

You receive attention only reserved for saints, and fear that someone will notice the smell of cum on you, or the musk of a man, lingering in your hair. Your sisters could easily notice your flushed lips if they wanted to. They could see the dreamy smiles, eyes that have just seen God, but everyone is looking inward, and no one sees how you rebel against the Lord right under their nose.

You stay strong in your no condoms policy, but practice with König every day; you practice so much that his wound opens and starts to bleed.

“Oh my God…”

“Heh… It’s okay,” he says as your stare drifts down to the side of his stomach. The bandage is slowly blooming with red, and your crazy soldier would simply go on if you didn’t order him to lie down. 

You’re both naked as you start to patch him up, convinced that this is some sort of a punishment for being so reckless. König only smiles on the bed while you treat him; it’s like his master plan finally worked.

“I like it when you take care of me,” he explains while you clean up the wound. You raise your stare, and in place of a horny, able-bodied man, there’s briefly a boy, a kid who used to make himself sick as a child to get at least some attention.

“Has no one ever taken care of you…?” 

“Not really.”

He grunts when the antiseptic seeps inside the wound – you wince, sympathetic to his pain.

“Is that why you like me?” You try to chitchat and take his attention away from it, secretly nervous when fishing for details on why he would want to be with someone like you.

“There are many reasons why I like you.” 

“Such as…?”

“Your smile, for starters... I like that. And then… I really like your ass.”

“König...”

“What, I’m not allowed to?”

You purse your lips to scold him, but really, your heart hurts so much it burns. There are a million doors to this man, but he only keeps one or two open at a time, to prevent an attack of some sort. 

“I like your devotion,” he says, finally with some serious air about him. “Your kindness. You don’t hurt people.”

“...But you do,” you whisper. It’s not an accusation, only a comment. 

“I would never hurt you.”

The playfulness is gone, and while you miss it, you also like it when König gets fragile like this, stripping himself of all the shields that make him a strong, confident merc.

“Sometimes we have to fight for the things we love,” he continues, probably explaining why he endorses violence.

“Killing is a sin,” you say, more to yourself than to him. 

“Kätzchen... You can’t tell me it’s a sin to kill the ones who would try to hurt you. You can’t tell me it’s not love to hurt them back.”

You look at him, calm and adoring on the bed. He’s so sure of his choices, like an archangel set on the borders of Eden with a flaming sword in his hand... 

And the rose is starting to unfurl, the enigma finally unravelling itself. You’re the sacred Other, the opposite of him, you’re the great Mystery he’s infatuated with. You have peace and faith and hope and love: everything he lacks. 

And he’s the opposite of you. Fierce, vengeful, violent… Hopeless, suffering, without peace. Ready to dive into the world and bathe in it, be it a pool filled with love or blood.

He’s searching for the answers, too, only in different ways.

“And no one ever will.”

“No one’s trying to kill or hurt me,” you whisper, trying to stand brave under that flaming stare. But he’s stronger than you, even when recovering. He pulls you back to the bed and in his arms because that’s where you simply belong now, and caresses your cheek, as gently as you caressed his withered flower in your cell.

…

You know your days at the convent are coming to an end, but when the abbess gives you a warning after the fifth day of you skipping half of your chores, appointments and prayers, you go to see her. 

Without mentioning König or what you’ve been up to lately, you simply tell her you’ve decided to move on with your life. You say you’ve studied your soul for months now, coming to a conclusion that the life of a nun doesn’t suit you after all. 

These things happen, and people have left before; it’s nothing new under the sun that a nun or a monk wishes to return to the world. This is not a prison, you remind yourself, knowing that your departure will send some waves through the place but that eventually, people will go on with their lives.

You will probably be forgotten in a year: someone else will take your place, and you will continue your adventures someplace far away from here… Or that’s what you hope. 

But even if things didn’t work out with König, and you somehow ended up alone, it has become clear that you can’t stay here and continue this double life.

König’s offer doesn’t sound too bad: the Austrian Alps sound very enticing, actually. A simple life away from the buzz of the city is a golden opportunity for you; peace and faith can remain in your life without preventing you from participating in it. If only you knew whether he was kidding when he said that…

“Are you sure, sister? This seems like a rash decision.”

“Yes. I’m sure. I… I think I have found something,” you try to awkwardly explain. 

“Something… Or someone?”

“I just know that I can’t stay here. It’s not right.”

“On that, I agree.”

You go through the procedures, ritualistic, almost. The abbess asks whether you understand that this cannot be undone: you can’t just leave and then come back if you change your mind. The doors of the Church will always remain open to you, but your vows cannot be renewed, not in this convent. If this acquaintance of yours turns out to be a disappointment, you cannot simply come back here, don your robes, and start over.

She’s only doing her duty, and you try to listen respectfully, nodding as she lists the things that will be out of your grasp after you walk out those doors. Thinking that everything’s settled, you inform her you’ll leave today, to which she puckers her brows.

“My dear. Don’t you owe it to this convent to meditate on this for one more day? Don’t you owe it to yourself, to the Lord...? I’m sure the world can wait a few more hours.”

You sigh, bow your head, and bend to her will. 

She’s right; you can’t just leave as if all the years of joy and peace here meant nothing. You have people to say goodbye to, and you owe it to God to say your prayers, not your last, but last behind these walls. You haven’t even attended the evening mass these days; it’s like you stopped being a nun when a certain Austrian soldier asked if you wanted to take a nap with him.

You receive lots of well wishes, hugs, even tears when you tell others you’re leaving. Embarrassed that you almost got rid of your robes and sneaked out to another secret lover’s meeting without even saying farewell, you meet everyone with full presence until you find yourself crying too. 

You catch very little envy in your sisters, but there are some who look at you with jealous disdain when you tell them that no, you don’t even have an apartment yet, nor a job, but that you’ll take your new life as a gift and face it like an exciting adventure. 

Thinking about König all day long, you can’t wait for tomorrow so you can tell him the good news. You hope he understands that you can’t visit him every day, even if it has been your silent agreement that you knock on his door before noon. It’s a good thing that the poor man gets some rest: you can tickle and giggle and practice with him tomorrow to your heart’s content, it’s not like he’ll disappear in the next 24 hours.

He’s in König now; all that bliss resides with him and the moments when you two break bread together, or wash each other, tell each other silly secrets on the bed, fall asleep after a round of good sex.

Except that that’s exactly what you fear while you go about your day. 

Sorrow and excitement mix in your heart with bittersweet torment, but what haunts you most is that you no longer find God in the great hall where your sisters sing. You don’t feel His presence during the Mass. 

Sun sets behind the window, and you sigh while peeking out of your nunnery turned prison. Silence weighs upon you like a blanket, but you can’t get any sleep. 

There’s a sudden “clack” on the window, followed by rap, small pebbles or something clattering against the glass. You rise to sit on the bed, instantly thinking of König and his stupid, silly threats.

The longing is awful, it’s even worse when König was away for half a year because now you actually have something to miss. You wonder if he’s watching the same sweet skies as you, if he’s worried or hurt when you didn’t visit him today.

You wonder if the man has only shrugged his shoulders and left…

It can’t be…

There’s another clack, then another, until you jump from under the covers and go to the window, opening it without even remembering to be quiet. 

As soon as the windowpane glides open and you peek out, you meet König and his stare.

“What are you– You can’t be here...!”

“I was just about to sing,” he grins without even bothering to tone down his voice, letting the remaining gravel in his hand fall to the ground.

Bending his knees, he swiftly jumps up, pulling himself to the window sill like it’s easy parkour, probably opening that goshdarn wound again in the process. No wonder men die younger – you’d have to tie this specimen to a sturdy lamp post if you wanted him to stay put...

Throwing a pair of long legs over the sill, he makes himself at home, forcing you to take a good few steps back as he simply waltzes inside your room.

“You didn’t come to see me today,” he says like it’s some kind of an explanation for this silliness.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” you roll your eyes. “Something came up, and I had to stay here.” 

If you tell him that you’ve just renounced your vows, there’s no way you’ll get him out. He’d just say you must celebrate the good news by making love all night. 

“That’s alright,” he says amiably. “I’ll just visit you.”

Trying to argue with whispers doesn’t really help your cause. König only smiles down on you like a cheerful, jovial sun.

“But... It’s... You can’t be here…!” 

“I promise I’ll behave.”

“You and your promises… We both know how well you keep those. Go back before you get me into trouble, silly. We can see each other tomorrow.”

“But I want to see you today.” 

“Well, you’ve seen me,” you extend your hands to your sides, knowing you’ve already lost. “You can go back now.”

“I don’t think so.” 

He takes another step, forcing you to back away until you bump into your bed. Crossing the final breath between you, he pulls you into a kiss.

So much for contemplating your choices and dedicating your last night as a nun to God…

And it’s laughable how fast he rids you of your clothes these days. It’s stupid how fast you’re able to help him get undressed…  You all but tear the clothes off each other; actually, you can hear a seam rip when you both yank the shirt over his head, the new black t-shirt you just bought him a few days ago. 

Does he even know what he’s doing to you…?

Muscles rippling in the fading sunlight, he’s a god mortalized. Body built as a weapon to rip or ram his way through enemies, to you, he’s only ever been the source of joy and pleasure.

You could pray on the altar of his pecs, sing songs and chants to his lips, worship the bunching muscles of his thighs, kneel before the thing that rests thick between them. The sheer width of him is enough to make you drunk: desire pools, brims, until you feel like you can’t breathe anymore. 

You lay yourself on the bed, and he follows, like a big panther or a prowling titan. The bed sags as he sets his knee on it, it wails when crawls on top of you. Heavy cock swinging between his thighs, it seems like a cruel joke that you chose this man to be your first. 

And you didn’t expect that you’d lose your virginity this way: in your old room at the holy convent you swore yourself to a few years ago. You didn’t expect you’d lose it to a giant soldier who starts to frantically search for a condom after you whisper to him you’re done with practising.

While theoretically a sin, you’re more sullen with the prospect that you won’t be able to feel the silken hardness of him now that he rolls the plastic on. A little too enthusiastically – as if he hadn’t seen a woman in weeks, let alone cummed all over one two times yesterday. 

Still, you find heat pooling down your stomach as he approaches you, keen and eager and as hard as a man can get when he sees something that he likes.

He doesn’t need to part your legs: you do it for him, and when he sees your pussy all puffed up, leaking a thin stream down on the bed, his brows knit together, the expression reminding you of approaching thunder in summer.

His gaze is heavy like midnight when he guides it back to you – always back to you and your eyes, even if there’s a whole feast down there, prepared just for him. The backs of your thighs meet his as he slowly crawls forward, spreading your legs further apart before the battering ram. 

“Kitten...” he rumbles. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

The springs continue to wail beneath you: it’s like the whole world is against you today, even the stupid bed making it far too likely to get caught. And if you get caught, it won’t be just by some shocked sisters screaming when they find a man inside your room… It will be by them screaming when they find him inside you.

And he doesn’t seem to even care.

“Ach so my little nun… I hope we don’t break the bed,” he smirks.

“I hope you don’t break the bed…”

“You want me to take you down there instead?” 

He nods in the direction of the floor, and you can only blink – your soldier boyfriend is offering to fuck you on the cold cement as if it’s some kind of an option.

“I’m not having my first time on a floor,” you grump.

“Heh. Thought so, princess.”

The possibility of getting caught makes him visibly excited. Hell, it makes you excited... You wonder if he’s an adrenaline junkie, leading a dangerous life and having a life-threatening job, now choosing to try his luck at fucking a nun at a cloister.

You don’t want to be a challenging conquest or a kinky story told to some fellow soldiers at a bar… You want to be a commitment; you want to mean something to him. But you can’t escape the fact that this setting is turning you on. You’re even worse than him, spreading your legs and hoping he’d touch you with that cock; just drag it down your lips and glide it in already.

His gaze is heavy, blue steel, blazing in the darkness as he looks at you so wanton on the bed, a simple crucifix on the wall as the only witness to your deeds. This must be one of the craziest things you’ve done in your life…

Replacing his hand with the head of his cock, he finally lets you have what you need. The tip of him is hot, even when covered in thin plastic, and the sight of him, large and powerful and dark, looming godlike above you, makes you think of pagan heroes and kings. To you, he’s all men in one, the sheer mass of him making your thighs tremble from want.

With a curious finger sliding down the wet, heavy seam of you, he swears when meeting you so pliant and wet. Thanks to your constant “practising”, you’re always slightly aroused, getting in the mood the instant you see him.

Contrary to your belief, having sex multiple times a day doesn’t, in fact, stifle sexual desire but adds to it… It’s like you’ve opened Pandora’s box together, only the box contained all the pleasure in the world instead.

“Are you ready, kitten…?” 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Just… We need to be quiet…”

His smile is a flash of a grin in the falling darkness. “I’ll try my best.”

The sound that leaves the back of his throat is a deprived, hoarse moan. He seems to be enjoying it more than anything while you’re trying to remember how to breathe, but when he settles fully in and stays there, you start to actually feel something… Something thick, and heady. 

Settling to your entrance, he tells you to relax, and you try your best with that; you truly do.

But nothing can prepare you for it, the fat head of him sliding in, smoothly and with a spread that leaves you gasping. The fulfilment is phenomenal – you try to remind yourself to relax your muscles as he pushes a few inches in, and then some more, and then some more. More, more, more, until you start to feel your inner walls wake up with alarm. 

Seated so deep that his balls arrive to touch your flesh, your body starts to accept him, squeeze him, hug him.

And it feels good. In a way, it’s the best feeling in the world.

He groans, slightly high-pitched and surprised; perhaps you’re tighter than he expected, or perhaps he can feel the hugging thing… 

Your cheeks are panging with heat – the whole building is silent except for the broken breaths of you two, and the lewd sounds of fucking on your chaste bed not made to take this sort of abuse. Growing only wetter and wetter, you try to keep your moans lodged inside your throat as he starts to fuck you with determination, seeing that you’re enjoying yourself. 

Pulling out the slightest bit, he chooses to head straight back, apparently not wanting to be deprived of your heat even for a second. Thrust by thrust, he pulls out more, allowing you to get used to what it feels like. The bed is absolutely horrid, creaking every time he buries himself back in. 

It’s a punishing of sorts, his cock knocking the air out of you every now and then. The slap of his balls against you is sinful – your room has seen nothing like this, nothing but some shy solo action every few months. Now you’re spread wide open for a good pounding, his hips reaching a pace that makes the rest of the world slowly dissolve. 

Realizing he might be a bit too enthusiastic with a woman who’s a first-timer, he swallows and slows down his pace, causing you to almost scream with frustration. 

“Am I being too rough…?” He asks, panting like he just ran ten miles. Plugged deep inside you, you can feel his cock throbbing and pulling near the point of cumming – perhaps another reason why he stopped.

“No… No.” 

You sound puny under him, fingers flexing over his skin, the great ribs flaring in reply under your touch.

“You want more?” 

“Mm. Needy little thing...” 

“...Yes.”

Huffing in the hollow of your neck, he breaks into a smile and licks his lips. 

You barely catch the hint of degrading tone in his voice, a mocking, something about the way you’re so wet and needy for him stroking his ego just the right way.

Knowing that he’s here for reasons other than just sex doesn’t change the fact that you enjoy getting sweaty with him, spiralling into a state of total surrender. Ten times more powerful than the most blissful experiences with your God, you want to come here for worship again and again, to have his body entangled with yours. 

Ecstatic that you just came, König no longer holds back; he doesn’t even let you gather the remaining pieces of your sanity before he starts to chase his own peak. Taking what he needs from you, the trusts turn into short, quick pumps, some foul German curse hissed between his teeth just before he cums. 

When the tide swells, it’s a bit different: not just external stimuli and shallow friction, but areas never explored now getting nudged as well. The delicious drag of his length in and out of you, the thickness making you feel overstuffed, does make the pleasure well like never before.

You’re not accustomed to this, being forced so dumb by a cock. Cheekily anticipating the swelling wave, it breaks upon you almost without warning. There’s nowhere to escape, and the climax is blinding, the euphoria leaving you without air for a moment. 

You can feel every thick pulse of his cock, and fear for the condom that looked far too tight to manage to take both him and his load. You whimper and cling to him as he ruts through his heavy bliss, entire body throbbing with heat from the joy of spilling inside you. 

When done, he sinks half his weight on you, thoroughly spent, and you feel fulfilled, some deep-seated joy taking hold of everything that once was hollow. Curiously, all shame is absent. The man on top of you is sweaty and catching his breath, but you’re only glad to swim in the messy, sweaty newness of you two. 

“You ok...?”

You want his weight on you… You want him to stay inside you until he grows soft, you need him to be as drowsy and complete as you.

Hugging him tight in the middle of your post-coital bliss, you feel König rumble into your neck.

“Better than ever,” you breathe a smile. “How about you…?”

“...In heaven,” he replies, and you have to stifle a giggle pushing up your throat. He has never sounded so spent. So tired, happy and fragile…

“I just want to be with you like this,” he continues to mutter on your skin. “Can I be with you like this…?”

“Yes.”

He slowly rises to lean on his elbows, propping himself on them one by one. Weary, pleased eyes slowly focus on you, and the back of his palm comes to caress you, knuckles gently brushing your temple, thumb swiping away an escapee hair. 

“Kitten… I’m serious. I don’t want to live without you.”

“We have a tradition in Austria where men sometimes steal the bride.”

“How convenient,” you smile.

“I know you belong to someone else, but I’m going to steal you.”

Your eyes are full of stars, you just know they are. If this is another one of his jokes, you can’t bring yourself to care, not as long as he looks at you like that, eyes so set and determined.

“I’m sure He won’t mind,” you mirror his gesture, raising a hand to caress his cheek.

“I’ll fight Him if he does.” 

“...You can’t fight God,” you laugh.

“Why not?”

You don’t even know what to say to that. You open your mouth, then close it, shaking your head on the pillow. In a way, you can imagine him taking up arms against God if it came to that. If there was someone foolish enough – or brave enough – to rise against God, that someone would be him.

“König… I renounced my vows today.”

“...You did?”

The happiness, the pure joy in his eyes, is heartbreaking. At that moment, you know that all his silly jokes, follies, and babbles about taking you to the mountains and whisking you away have been real. They have been true, honest wishes... There is no lie in him, no jest, no fakeness. Just pure, simple joy from hearing that you finally chose him, too.

“I tried to leave in the morning but the abbess made me stay for one more day.”

“Ah... So you’re being held a prisoner here?”

“Kind of.”

The familiar twinkle in his eyes tells you that he already has another plan coming right up. That grin means mischief; but with you, only the sweetest kind.

“Well. You’re in luck, then, because I’m here to save you.”

“You just said you’re going to steal me,” you laugh.

“Call it what you want, kitten,” he winks. “But I’m not leaving without you.”

…

The sun has set, but the evening is bright, the sky filled with stars visible even through city lights. It’s dark in the courtyard as you sneak out of the window with König, trying not to giggle as you escape. You call it a prison break; he calls it Einsatz Rapunzel. Whatever it is, it feels like freedom.

The old man doesn’t even care to look surprised when he sees you clothed in jeans and a simple shirt this time, smiling as you rush upstairs, hand in hand with König.

He whispers promises on your skin, saying that you won’t stay here for long; his contacts will get you to the heart of Europe, tomorrow if you want. You can’t wait to sleep with him tonight: simply sleep with him, finally, curl up together in safety, do the most basic thing all lovers do. You can’t wait to wake up to a fresh dawn together, lovely, curious, and new. 

Night covers you with beauty and grace, his pulse against your palm both a promise and a blessing. You take new vows: promising to yourself to live each day fully and bravely, and never again shut your heart.

The only thing left of you on your old bed is your black and white robe, and on it, a crucifix and a rose, and a note that says:

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love… But the greatest of these is love.

[connorswhisk]

my nsfw daryl dixon hcs <3 (genderneutral)

- very much more divested in the pleasure of his partner than himself

- if the focus is on him he gets wildly uncomfortable (at first)

- after a while he’ll begrudgingly open up to/accept it

- prefers to be the giver not the receiver

- realllllly good at giving head. eye contact, fingers, hot little grunts - the works

- awkward when on the receiving end of oral but soon gives in

- generally likes things sensual and maybe on the slower side

- loves missionary and riding the most, loves to keep on with that intense eye contact of his

- thicker, slightly clumsier fingers - endearing

- big fan of cradling faces, touching foreheads, feeling pulses

- dark smoldering look in his eyes when he’s turned on , looking his partner up and down with silent, simmering want

- sounds range from soft breathy grunts to low sensual growls to barely contained self-conscious whimpers

- breathes like he’s never tasted oxygen before in his life

- consistent checking in, making sure partner is comfortable

- (even if that comes at the price of his own comfort, that doesn’t matter as much to him)

- i would say he has a fairly average - slightly above average dick, decently girthy, uncut

- full bush obvs it’s the apocalypse ain’t nobody got time for shaving….

- hesitant abt his scars being looked at/paid attention to/touched but again, will eventually ease into being comfortable with it and finding it really intimate and pleasant

- good at doing that thing where he teases at partner’s dick head/clit/etc while fucking them to push them the extra mile and over the brink to orgasm

- in missionary, loves to bracket arms around partner/feel their arms and legs wind around his body

- while being ridden, loves to grip tightly to partner’s hips/waist area or run his hands up and down their body

- rough, calloused hands with dirty and bitten nails and hairs sprouting on the backs of the knuckles - in some places, when needed, soft and supple as old leather

- if daryl’s the one getting fucked, he tends to prefer doggy so he doesn’t have to look anyone in the eye

- obedient in the sense that you don’t have to ask/tell him to do things, he’s already doing them. not obedient in the sense that he wants to be ordered around like a dog

- molds to whatever his partner is doing; takes it dutifully or allows himself to unwind ever so slightly and maybe ask for certain things that he might like

- hands might tighten on partner a little too much when he cums, but as soon as he realizes it he’s loosening his hold

- loves pulling out and finishing on partner’s stomach

- usually will sit in a post-orgasmic haze for a minute or two after he cums

- loves a creampie, but only if he knows it’s safe…

- if it’s especially intimate/passionate/intense, he may cry. burrow closer into partner’s side, lean head on their chest to feel their heartbeat, etc

- slow, open kisses on the throat…nuzzling noses together…keeping partner close as he can for as long as he can

- this boy just really loves his aftercare <3

[suiana]

need more killer harem and organ seller

(yandere! killer harem x gn! organ seller reader) (first fic of 2024 oh em gee 😋😋)

"it's going to be 2024."

"yeah."

you reply to his statement as you stand motionlessly, staring up at the night sky as your provider for the day stands beside you. you tug at your turtleneck sweater nervously, avoiding his gaze as you attempt to ignore how he inches closer to you with each passing second.

you two remain silent after that, him staring affectionately at you and you standing awkwardly beside him. you nervously eye the railing you leaned against, watching as the crowd below you engages in merry discussion. gulping awkwardly, you play with your hands as you mentally curse yourself for deciding to accept his offer of watching the new year's fireworks with him. you should've known better than to accept one of your lovesick admirers hand in something so romantic.

plus, it's not like you did anything like this for any of your other partners. sure, you kissed a few, held some tenderly, indulged multiple on dates, maybe even fucked one or two... but you've never agreed to watch fireworks like lovers do! speaking of which...

it's almost creepy how each and every one of your business partners turn out infatuated with you one way or another. was it the air? was it because they were all mentally insane? you don't know and you couldn't bother to care. because the more you know, the deeper you fall into the rabbit hole of their lives.

so you don't know why you've decided to indulge this organ provider for today. especially since... he looks more deranged than the rest.

"hey, can i ask something?"

he asks, staring at you with that same creepy smile that sends chills up your spine. yet, you nod in response to his question. he simply laughs at that, turning to look at the night sky before mumbling softly.

"would you choose me out of everyone else?"

you pause, looking at him with narrowed eyes before shaking your head. you're not going to entertain any nonsense. you knew you should've left earlier-

"mn... that's too bad. i would've chosen you in a crowd of others. it hurts me to know you wouldn't do the same."

he holds your wrist tightly, mumbling in faux hurt as he smiles eerily at you. you freeze, not moving as you glare at your business partner. damn, you can't believe you actually agreed to be here with him in the first place.

"let go."

"nah. i like holding you."

you grit your teeth, but do nothing to break free as you continue to stare at him. he merely hums in response, smiling as he looks across the city skyline.

all of a sudden, he pins you to the railing, face way too close for comfort.

"mn... you're so cute like this... can i kiss you?"

you squirm under his grip, heart beating loudly as all you can focus on is his eager face.

"g-get off!"

you huff, pushing at his chest as you sweat nervously. shit, he could easily push you over the railing and you'd be mush like some of his victims- that's when you felt his lips brush against yours, kissing your cheek as his hands go to the back of your neck.

you stop in place, looking up as he pulls away only to realize that it was a new year. your fingers gently touch your cheek as you eye him. he didn't kiss you on the lips? what was he up to?

"haha! how silly you are. i just wanted to give you a new year's present. don't be so tense."

he gestures to the necklace around your neck. ah... so that's what he did...

"and there was ice cream on your face from just now. didn't tell you cause i thought you'd notice but you're much more clumsier than i thought! don't worry, i cleaned it for ya. free of charge~"

he winks at you before grinning.

"happy new year. i hope you'll make the right choice when the time comes."

he then waves at you before turning around, leaving you alone to you thoughts as the sound of the fireworks takes your attention. right choice huh... was this a sign that your business partners were planning something? you sure hope not...

you wouldn't want to have to make such a difficult choice. especially since choosing just one would mean you'd make enemies out of the rest. you sigh out, rubbing your temples before leaning against the railing again. oh well, you'll just enjoy the pretty display for now. after all, that's what you came for. you'll deal with the problems later.

"...happy new year, i guess."

yeah, what a happy new year this year will be :)

[cannellee]

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ alpha! shinichiro x omega! reader (smut)

— soft sex with alpha!shinichiro

my masterlist : ☆

(pls enjoy this as this wasn't supposed to be what I should've posted tonight. it just happened that while writing a smut story about baji, I accidentally clicked on a tumblr notification and it removed me from my draft, while of course DELETING the whole thing I spent 2hours writing. I'm absolutely devastated and certainly not gonna pick this story up anytime soon, it'll have to rot away between other neglected drafts until I've forgotten all about this awful event)

alpha! shinichiro will take it slow. dragging his long fingers across your soft skin. they're rough to the touch but his caresses are so gentle it melts your mind into a puddle.

he's engulfing you in his pheromones, that's the only thing you can breathe and shinichiro loves to see you get high off of his scent. it makes his alpha all proud and satisfied.

with all his kisses, shinichiro succeeds in drawing a few moans from you, encouraging him to keep pleasing his omega even more.

he loves it. loves the way you ask for more, loves the way you cry his name and clings to his neck. he wants to carve in his mind the way your face twitches every time he reaches a certain spot, praising you for taking him so well.

shinichiro takes care of all of your needs, letting you indulge yourself into the blissful pleasure he's giving you. he's nibbling at your neck, the exact spot he knows is most sensitive. the thrill of having your alpha lick and suck such a vulnerable spot puts you in a submissive haze. you're all too ready to obey, omega instincts praying you to satisfy your alpha, mind all fuzzy.

it's clear to shinichiro that you've now switch to a more comfortable space and he lets you, still fully pleasing your body the way a good alpha should.

he's touching you with wonder, breath irregular with the way your sweet pheromones are reaching his nose. he's hugging your form with adoration, his hips are moving rapidly, setting a pace he knows will put you to sleep for a few hours after that. his hands are behind your knees and the position allows him to reach deeper inside of you. the pleasure is almost too much and shinichiro's satisfied growls triggers your body to produce more slick. you're dripping wet and the lewd noises of skin hitting are not even loud enough to cover your moans.

shinichiro is also on edge, feeling himself come close he stimulates you with his fingers even more, never letting you rest. he's getting rougher, messing the nest you're in at the same time. he's sucking and biting your neck, whispering in your ears about how good you feel and how full he'll make you.

shinichiro can't help but be swayed by the thought of his pretty omega all swollen because of him. he imagines you carrying his pup, belly huge and a motherly smile on your face.

it makes him want to stay buried inside of you, until he's sure his fantasy will come true.

he feels himself coming close and in one swift motion, you're back on your knees, ass up and chest touching the mattress. you're seeing stars and shinichiro manhandling you like you're some light doll stir up something inside you.

he's biting the mark on the back of your neck, reclaiming you by renewing it. the pain laced with the pleasure he's giving you makes you shake, shinichiro feels it. his praises become clumsier, "good girl"s being whispered at your ear along with deep moans, and his movements loose their harmony.

he's reaching his own high, telling you take it. and take it you did. feeling yourself come loose too, you cum at the same time. shinichiro's chest pressed against your back, you can feel his erratic respiration. he gives you a few thrust, slow and nice to finish you off.

he falls back in the nest, dick still inside. he hugs you from behind and you both stay here until you drive off your high. a content smile is on your face, feeling his soft dick slipping out of you, your gummy walls letting out a few drops of cum with it.

and you then fall asleep to shinichiro's kisses and praises, his reassuring administrations setting your mind into a deeply satisfied haze.

[0law]

🎶💘🎶💕💕✨

Oh, Fordsy, you are so drunk that your thoughts bounce like a loud echo in my head….. You plucked up the courage for this issue after several minutes. Let's count your steps, simple, but lovely.

1.You'll look sideways at me to check if the time is right.

2.You'll pretend that karaoke fatigue and drinking are getting the better of you, hoping I'll take you in my arms.

You'll awkwardly try to find my face. Oops, you're clumsier than you expected yourself.

4.You'd kiss me until you expect a response from me; you wanted this so badly.

And I, well, I'll play along.

Wait, it's strange, I feel strange. I was only supposed to play with him, because his kiss and touch make me feel out of place.

I won't overthink it. We're drunk and we're playing, at least I am. I like you six fingers, but you don't drive me crazy.

…damn it… stupid Sixer…

No, No, No!! Maybe this feeling is temporary.

God, I didn't think I could get a hangover from a dream, I even think I fell unconscious…that sounds absurd….. I'll write before my head falls off my shoulders. What about my diary?

[johnnysuhbmarine]

My Lips are Sealed

Pairing: Jeno x reader Description: Your childhood was nothing short of amazing with !twinbrotherJaemin and !bestfriendJeno. It was the three of you against the world, and all Jaemin asked was that you and Jeno not get involved with each other. It was a simple rule, but one that Jeno convinced you to give up on by the end of your senior year of high school. While you’re ready to navigate the extent of both your feelings, Jeno was ready to pretend that one shared kiss never existed, tearing apart your friendship in the process. Though, with college graduation came the famed trip to Hawaii the three of you had planned since childhood. Now it was just a matter of if four years of no contact between you and Jeno was something you could come back from. Content warnings: mentions of alcohol, a little bit of angst with a happy ending. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything. Word count: 12,821 :) A/n: I had wips started for other members before the idea of this existed but I can’t help myself from writing about Jeno. I hope you all are doing well - I’m rooting for you! Please enjoy, or don’t…I can’t tell you what to do. As always, feedback would be GREATLY appreciated :)

You were alone on the outskirts of the venue, already tired of getting stepped on by everyone jumping up and down, or worse, having to withstand watching all the couples dance to the slow songs. Prom night was not all that those movies chalked it up to be, not when you’re single, anyways. That being said, the theme was masquerade and you were currently walking through the garden, so you didn’t miss the opportunity to at least romanticize your night a little bit. 

You’re broken out of your thoughts when you hear footsteps behind you, and you turn from the rose bushes to lay eyes on a figure you knew all too well, a small smile coming onto your features as you meet his masked gaze. As soon as you turned around to face him, his movements grew clumsier, and he softly laughed over them as he spoke. “Hey there. I don’t mean to come on too strong but, you look beautiful.” His words were firm but you just raised an eyebrow and shook your head.

“Jeno, I know you know it’s me.” You reply with a dry laugh.

He looks back over his shoulder before turning towards you once more, confused. “Jeno? Who’s Jeno?” 

Your raised brow quickly furrows as you look at him. The masks adorning your faces in no way made either of you unrecognizable to each other when you’ve quite literally grown up together. You were sure that was Jeno, and you were sure he knew who you were under that mask, too. “What are you playing at?” You ask, any remaining patience for his games leaving your voice. To your surprise, Jeno’s shoulders dropped, and he looked around again to make sure no one else was nearby before moving closer to you. 

“You know Jaemin’s one rule for me?” He questions, and you swallow hard because of course you knew the rule your twin brother had set in place since you were five, but you couldn’t figure out why that was any bit relevant right now. 

“That you’re not allowed to get involved with me?” You answer hesitantly, and Jeno nods his head.

“Yeah, that one. It’s kind of a pain.” He says with a light laugh.

You drop your head to face the floor, all your courage escaping you as you acknowledge the one thing you’ve been pushing down for years. “...yeah.” You breathe out in agreement, and the corner of Jeno’s mouth quirks up in a smirk. 

He takes a step closer to you. “So, what if our masquerade outfits were just so good that we couldn’t recognize each other?” He asks in something close to a whisper. “That I didn’t know it was you?” He takes another step, you can feel his breath as you look back up to face him with wide eyes. “Could I kiss you then?” He finally gets out in a whisper, and your world starts slowing to a pause.

You had to be smart here. Your brother meant the world to you, having his trust meant the world to you, and all he ever asked for was that you and Jeno not get involved…well, he made it more of a demand on Jeno’s end. For over a decade, you abided by it with no mishaps, but it never changed the fact that your soul has been aching for Jeno all that time - that it still is. You didn’t know what to do. “Jeno…” You whisper back, all of your thoughts ending right there. Thankfully, he picks back up and, for better or worse, doesn’t know how to quit.

“What if it was just an honest mistake? He can’t get mad at us for that, can he?” He continues to dig at it, reaching for the answer he wanted in response to his twisted logic. His hand had already come up to cup your cheek, and you shift your gaze to make eye contact with him, trying to take back some dominance as opposed to turning into a puddle. Your wide, soft, helpless eyes were nothing in comparison to the longing you saw in his.

Jeno had regained all his confidence and composure long since he stumbled through calling you beautiful. Everything now was meticulous, completely controlled by Jeno, and you wonder how long he had been planning this. Since the theme was announced? All those months ago? You can’t imagine having missed his pining after you for that long, especially when you’ve been looking for a hidden meaning to his every action for years now, and yet, he stood in front of you now in seriousness - seriously looking as though he might die if you don’t let him kiss you. 

You move your gaze back down to his chest - anywhere that wasn’t his eyes as you respond as surely as you could. “If you’re going to kiss me, whoever you are, do it now.”

The only pause Jeno took in between your consent and him actually kissing you was to smile like a kid who just got told they were getting dessert for dinner. Then he leaned in and kissed you gently. It might have been the fact that you were in a long dress and he was in a suit, but it felt like you were in a fairytale - the world around you quieted, the stars shining down on the two of you as if the universe had been waiting for this moment. The kiss was soft and delicate, Jeno never pressing to deepen it. Instead, he held onto you as though you were fragile, like any harsh movement would break everything, make it all disappear, and he would die before letting that happen. 

When you break away, Jeno rests his forehead against yours, the two of you now caught up in soft smiles and laughter that you couldn’t be too obvious about. Though, almost immediately, they were calling for everyone to get together for the reveal of prom king and queen. You look up at Jeno through your eyelashes. “Should we go see if Jaemin’s won prom king?” 

Jeno nods his head against yours. “Yeah, he’ll be looking for us after, anyways.” He replies, though he makes no effort to move. Instead, he sneaks in about a thousand small pecks at your lips until you turn back into a giggling mess. 

“Okay, okay, stop!” You finally get out in between laughs, moving back from his figure to instead grab his hand and drag him with you towards the main floor of the venue. You typically weren’t one for holding hands, but now you’re sure it’s just because you’ve never held Jeno’s before. His fingers intertwined with your own like they finally found their home, and you know Jeno’s hand was the only one meant for yours. However, the second you meet back up with the big crowd facing the stage, you let his hand drop and he didn’t fight to keep them together, he couldn’t…you both knew that.

To no one’s surprise, Jaemin was crowned prom king. The entire crowd broke into cheers, but Jaemin just stood on stage and scanned the audience for you and Jeno, finally finding the two of you with a small smile on his lips to level out the brightest of smiles held in his eyes. You made eye contact with your brother and nodded softly before joining the rest of the crowd in clapping. Though in seconds, everyone’s attention was turned to the sky as fireworks were set off in celebration. With Jaemin still not off the stage, Jeno leaned down at his side so that his lips were by your ear, though his eyes stayed trained on the fireworks. “That’s what kissing you feels like.” He whispers, and your entire face heats up. You take your eyes off the fireworks to turn and look at him, giving him a playful shove.

“Shut up.” You say, but your words meant nothing amidst the smile on your face. Jeno just laughs, turning his attention back to the fireworks still going off. Though, he quietly grabbed your hand back in his, playing with your fingers as the rest of the fireworks kept everyone’s attention on the sky. 

That was the last remotely romantic moment you had with Jeno. 

Jaemin found you both after the fireworks ended, and the three of you hung around together for the rest of the night. You immediately hugged Jaemin once he made his way over to you. “Congrats on the win, king.” You say, and Jaemin just flashes you a proud smirk before leading you all away from the bigger crowds so you had space to actually breathe. 

The dance ended an hour later and you all filed into Jaemin’s car so he could drive home. “That was actually a pretty nice night, yeah?” He asks, taking a glance over at you in the passenger seat and back to Jeno through the rear view mirror. 

You nod your head in agreement as Jeno is the one to elaborate. “Yeah, my favorite part was the fireworks.” He responds cooly, but your face heats up. You had no clue if he was talking about the actual fireworks or the fireworks that he claims went off when you two kissed earlier that night, and you couldn’t risk turning around to look at him and figure it out in his gaze. 

Instead, you just duck your head, idly messing with your fingers as you add on softly. “Yeah, the fireworks were nice.” 

Jaemin stared over at you with a look in his eyes as though he were trying to figure you out. Being twins, it wasn’t really a surprise that he knew you sometimes better than you knew yourself, but it was instances like these where you wish he didn’t. Thankfully, if he found any deeper meaning to your words, he didn’t question it, instead just humming happily in agreement before going over his own favorite parts of the night. 

Jeno ended up sleeping over with the excuse that your post-prom movie night ran too long - you and Jaemin told him that he should’ve planned on sleeping over from the start. Regardless, the next morning, you and Jeno ended up being the first ones awake. You walk out of your bedroom to see him in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with a cup of coffee and idly scrolling on his phone. You smile at the sight of him in pajamas with messy hair, though you figure you looked about the same after just rolling out of bed.

“Hey.” You say, lightly enough to get his attention without risking waking up anyone else. His eyes snap onto your figure, a small smile coming onto his face as he begins to move.

“Hey, good morning. Do you want your coffee? I already made it - one cream, two sugars and all that.” He turns back to you with a smirk, a different mug in his hand now as his eyebrows raise in wait for your answer. He places his other hand around the actual mug to feel the temperature before nodding slightly. “It’s drinkable for you now.” He continues with a smile, sliding the mug over to where you’ve moved to stand on the other side of the counter. “Cause you know, you’re super scared of burning your tongue…even though the funny feeling goes away in like- a day.” He teases. “But anyways, I made it when I made mine so yours could cool down a bit until you got up.”

You duck your head, hiding a laugh. Jeno knew you a little too well sometimes, but you’d be lying if you said you couldn’t do the same in a reverse scenario - how he took his coffee was a fact far past memorized for you. “Thank you.” You say quietly, grabbing the mug from his hands and taking a sip with no hesitation. It was, in fact, your perfect cup of coffee. “How long have you been up?” You ask, and Jeno turns around to look at the clock on the microwave before doing math in his head.

“A little over thirty minutes. Your coffee hasn’t been waiting that long, I promise. It took me a while to convince myself to get out of bed.” He answers with a small laugh, and you flash your eyebrows in recognition as you take another sip. 

With you and Jeno hanging out practically every day, there wasn’t much small talk you could ever make - nothing to catch up on when you were there to actually experience all his stories in the first place. So, you turn your head towards the backyard windows, looking out as you try and build up the courage to say what was actually on your mind. “Are we gonna talk about it?” You ask quietly, still not brave enough to look Jeno in the face and see his reaction.

You figure that was probably for the best when he replies neutrally. “About what?” 

A stab to the heart was what that reply was, confusion coursing through your veins knowing he was the one begging to kiss you last night. You spent all these years helplessly pining after Jeno but he apparently kissed you just for fun - nothing that would matter the next morning, nothing to talk about. “Oh.” You say, trying your best not to sound hurt as you place your coffee back down on the counter. Without another word, you walk back upstairs to your room, passing by Jaemin who had just woken up. 

“Good morning.” He says with his typical smile, but you stay staring at your feet in front of you.

“Morning.” You reply quietly, sure your voice would crack with tears if you dared speak any louder. Jaemin furrows his brows at your behavior, but before he can question anything, you’re already back in your room and behind closed doors. So instead, he continues with his walk downstairs to find a distraught Jeno and your unfinished cup of coffee sitting on the counter. Jaemin just sighs as he moves to start making his own coffee, praying that whatever it was that had the two of you bothered would work itself out in no time. 

That never happened. 

You started avoiding Jeno after that morning, hiding in your room whenever he would come over or making sure you had plans to get you out of the house entirely; anything to make yourself scarce. It was a stupid way to spend your last summer before college - hiding from your best friend, but you couldn’t help the fact that any reminder of him now hurt. You had spent too long crushing on Jeno just for him to string you along with one kiss and then pretend nothing happened. Truthfully, you would have rather him rejected you outright instead of ghosting over the subject and leaving you without closure. 

After the first week of you blatantly avoiding Jeno, he too stopped trying to reach out - wouldn’t ask where you were headed as you left through the front door, wouldn’t knock on your bedroom door and ask if you wanted what Jaemin and himself just made for dinner, wouldn’t text and ask how your day went, wouldn’t say ‘hi’ in passing…all that was left of your relationship was the fact that he never left your mind and the way he would still stare after you with an unreadable expression whenever you walked away from him.

Jaemin let it go in the beginning, but soon enough he couldn’t bear the tension, nor the fact that now on any given day, he had to choose between hanging out with you or Jeno, when it used to be the three of you against the world. It was mid-summer when the two of you had gone out for ice cream one day. The entire outing was as normal as ever, but as Jaemin pulled in front of your house to park, he didn’t turn the car off right away. You look over at him in question as you unbuckle your seatbelt, but he just sighs.

“I know there’s something going on between you and Jeno,” he starts, and you sink back into your own seat. “But I also know you, so there’s no point in trying to figure out what happened because you’ll never tell me. But I just- are you okay?” He finishes, swinging his gaze over to you with a hint of worry in his eyes. 

You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, instead just shaking your head and trying to make sure it shakes back your tears as well. “I don’t know.” You answer hoarsely. Nothing has felt normal since you and Jeno stopped talking, but the idea of facing him now filled you with anxiety. Jaemin leaned over to wrap you in an awkward hug and you finally let some tears fall in his embrace. 

“Please just tell me Jeno isn’t the reason you’re going to a different university.” He says in a near whisper, and more things in your brain start to click. Before going to NCIT together was ever a plan between you, Jeno, and Jaemin, it was a plan between you and Jaemin. Choosing at the last minute to instead enroll elsewhere probably hurt Jaemin a lot more than he let on when you made the decision last month. Thankfully, you can at least reassure him that you weren’t letting a boy control your life…sort of. 

“He’s not. You know this one has a better program for what I want to do anyways. Sure, the situation with Jeno didn’t necessarily help in convincing me to stick with our original plan, but maybe some actual time away from each other will help mend things.” 

Jaemin breaks from the hug to resume a normal sitting position in his car, his hands idly fiddling with each other. “I’m sorry you two aren’t close anymore. I know- I know he meant a lot to you.” 

You shake your head, using your palm to wipe away any remnants of tears as you reply. “Just the normal amount.” Your words come out weak, as though the lie could hardly care to exist in the first place. You swallow back the awkwardness that came with your words, wondering how well your brother was able to read you today. Though, dwelling on it wouldn’t do any good, so instead you turn to face Jaemin with intent, a few traces of guilt hidden within your features if you look hard enough. “I’m sorry you have to be caught in the middle of it.” You say, and Jaemin lets out a light sigh that you think was meant to be laughter.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve navigated it for half the summer already.” He says with a teasing smirk that finally gets the atmosphere to lighten. “Besides, some time apart will mend everything and we’ll be all good to go for our graduation trip, yeah?” 

Despite yourself, a small smile comes onto your face. The three of you had been planning to spend a week in Hawaii after college graduation for almost as long as you could remember, and if there was one thing you weren’t going back on, it was a trip to Hawaii. “Yeah, that graduation trip stays as planned no matter what.” You reply, turning to face him so he could see your smile again. Jaemin nodded lightly, finally turning the car off as the two of you get out and head for the door. 

Fast forward four years and time did not mend things, but your graduation trip stayed as planned. Neither you nor Jeno ever attempted to reach back out during college, but neither you nor Jeno had it in you to bow out of the graduation trip or even slightly alter the plans. So, when Jeno joined the two of you outside, loading Jaemin’s car with luggage, he sent a small ‘hi’ your way. You just nod in response. There was no way the two of you could go the entire trip without talking, you knew that, but that didn’t mean you were ready to act as though the last four years of radio silence didn’t happen. In fact, pretending things didn’t happen was the last thing you’ve been wanting this entire time. 

Jeno lets out a soft sigh at your lack of a verbal response as you instead just slide into the back seat of the car. Jaemin comes around to place a comforting hand on Jeno’s shoulder. “Give her time. It wasn’t just separate colleges that had the two of you grow apart, it was that entire last summer of purposefully avoiding each other. Before you’re upset that you can’t pick up where you left off, remember that 50% of the blame is your own. You stopped talking to her, too. Where you ‘left off’ was not as best friends.” 

Jeno shakes his head. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t expecting us to be that close again.” He states plainly, and the tiniest of frowns flashes across Jaemin’s face before he motions for the two of them to get in the car as well, the ride to the airport filled entirely with music as you stared out the window. 

On the airplane, Jaemin sat in the middle, with Jeno taking the aisle and you the window seat. For a while, all three of you were doing your own separate things, but about an hour and a half into the flight, Jaemin pulled out the nintendo switch, propping it up on the tray table and switching his gaze back and forth between you and Jeno with raised, expectant eyebrows. You wave him off, turning your attention back to the window as Jeno is the one to take the other controller from Jaemin’s hands. Together, they played through three circuits of mariokart before Jaemin finally turned it off and started trying to fall asleep, laying his head against your shoulder. 

It was maybe fifteen minutes later when you feel a tap on your thigh. You quickly turn your attention from the window to the touch, tracing it back up to Jeno. He had booted up the switch again, mariokart waiting on the multiplayer home screen. You look back down to see one of the remotes held out for you in the hand that had gained your attention in the first place. You turn back to look at him; his eyes were wide in anticipation but he looked small as he silently asked for you to play with him. You breathe out a soft sigh, taking the remote from his hand before turning back to him. “I’m going to beat your ass.” You whisper over Jaemin’s head. Jeno turns to face the console rather than you to try and cover up the wide smile that your familiar tease placed on his lips. Unbeknownst to the two of you, the corners of Jaemin’s lips perked up in a grin, too, before he quickly started back on his attempt at falling asleep.

You must have played through every map with Jeno, with it unfortunately being a toss up for who took first on any given circuit. You finally hand him the remote back as he shuts the console down and situates himself so that he can fall asleep, too. You resumed your previous task of staring out the window and listening to music, Jaemin asleep on your shoulder and Jeno on his. Life wasn’t back to normal by a long shot, but a trip to Hawaii wasn’t necessarily normal either - so maybe despite it all, it was going to be okay. 

Hours later, the three of you step into the hotel room which might as well have been a house. Three separate bedrooms and bathrooms for each of you, all connected by a kitchen and living room. With you not getting any sleep on the flight, you immediately started on unpacking and getting ready for bed. Meanwhile, Jaemin and Jeno just threw their bags on the floor and headed down to the bar in the lobby, a common way to kill time that they picked up back in college. 

The next day, the dynamic was much the same. The guys hung around the beach and bar all day while you went for a bike ride down the coast, got a massage, randomly joined the hotel’s ping pong tournament where you were probably too excited to crush a thirteen year old in the finals, and remained pool-side for the rest of the first day. 

When you finally met back up with Jaemin and Jeno, it was for dinner. You were given free drink coupons for winning the ping pong tournament, so you all decided to eat at the hotel restaurant just off the shore. You don’t think you had ever seen the boys as confused as when you told them the story behind the coupons, but they weren’t going to question it if it meant you were willing to share the free drinks with them. 

Dinner itself was still awkward. It was either you talking to Jaemin or Jeno talking to Jaemin, and the other would pretend to be really invested in their food during the other’s conversation. Though, Jaemin didn’t seem bothered. At least, he didn’t push for the two of you to finally get over it and resolve the tension. So, you didn’t, and dinner became a game of you and Jeno trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. 

Regardless, the night quickly came to a close, and when the opportunity arose to join Jaemin and Jeno on the living room couch and watch Forensic Files, you politely declined and turned on the TV in your own bedroom instead. 

Trying to finally fall asleep around midnight would have been a lot easier if it didn’t decide to storm so horrendously. The lightning lit up everything around you as the thunder shook the room violently - or maybe it was just you that was violently shaking. You were never good with storms; they have always terrified you since you were little. Currently, this one had you curled up in a ball sitting atop your bed, silent tears rushing down your cheeks.

It was maybe twenty minutes into the storm when your bedroom door cracked open. You quickly wipe stray tears off your face as you look up to meet the presence standing meekly in the doorframe, their head turned down to face the floor. You knew the silhouette’s body frame, though, and it wasn’t Jaemin’s. 

“Jeno?” You ask hoarsely. 

Slowly, he brings his gaze up to meet yours, sucking on his bottom lip in hesitation before he speaks. “Are you still scared of storms?” He asks softly.

You freeze, wiping your eyes once more to make sure your face was clear of tears. “N-no.” You stammer out, voice cracking as you do. For some reason, Jeno just lets out a light exhale of laughter.

“You would be more convincing if you weren’t sitting in a ball and shaking.” He remarks more playfully. You just drop your face to stare into your knees, not wanting to look at him as you reply with words you couldn’t come back from.

“Please, just- come here.” You say in a near whisper, though Jeno picks up on it immediately. He finally moves from the door frame, stepping inside your room, shutting the door behind him, and joining you on top of your bed. 

He sat beside you, less than a foot away but making sure not to touch you. Despite the fact that it was a considerate gesture, it felt kind of stupid seeing as all your interactions used to start and end with the biggest hugs; and now here you were, needing comfort, and Jeno was scared to touch you. 

“How can I help take your mind off of it?” He asks, and you just shake your head. All this time, and you never figured out much to do other than wait it out in fear. That’s when another bout of lightning strikes, the crack of thunder feeling like it came from right behind you. Immediately, you flinch and start crying some more, and without spending too much time thinking about it, you lean into Jeno’s body at your left.

His breath hitches for the smallest of moments before he immediately wraps your balled figure in his arms, rubbing a comforting hand up and down your back. “Hey, it’s okay.” He says softly. You shake off his attempt to calm you down. 

“I’m terrified, Jeno.” You mumble out weakly, and Jeno just takes a deep breath before pulling you closer to him.

“I know, but I got you.”

At his words, some tension leaves your body. All this time avoiding each other but still all you knew to do was trust Jeno. One of his hands remains running up and down your back, the other tightly wrapped around your body as you speak into his chest. “Were you still awake, too?” You ask, and you feel Jeno shake his head.

“No, but the second the storm woke me up, all I could think about was you and whether or not you were able to fall asleep before it started. I mean, you sleep through this stuff like a rock, but if you aren’t already sleeping when it starts, all you do is shake. I just- needed to come make sure you were okay, or…” He drags off for a second, sucking on his bottom lip as he stares down at you in his arms. “At least, not alone.” 

You let out a heavy breath, not able to tell if you were more mad at the fact that Jeno knew you so well or that something like a storm made you panic and put you in this situation in the first place. “It’s stupid. I’m twenty-two years old. I shouldn’t be scared of storms anymore.” 

“Y/n,” he says, but his soft tone comes with a bite of seriousness. “It’s not stupid. You don’t expect someone who’s afraid of spiders or snakes to ever get over it, no matter how old they are. It’s not childish to be afraid of something. Don’t put yourself in some weird double-standard.” 

You shake your head that’s still buried in his chest. “Those are spiders and snakes - almost everyone finds those scary. These are storms.” You scoff, but Jeno cuts you off there. 

He unravels one arm from around your body to instead place his hand under your chin and direct your tear-glazed gaze back to him, making sure you could see he was serious as he replied. “And they’re scary to you, which is all that matters to me.” 

You quickly begin to cry again, this time because of his words rather than the storm. Your arms let go from their grip around your curled up legs so you can instead wrap them around Jeno’s waist and bury your head back into his chest. He just holds you closer in response, speaking into your hair. “We’ll wait it out together, yeah?” He prompts, but before you could even reply, he’s back to rubbing comforting circles on your skin, not giving you much of a choice. 

He holds you in silence for a little bit, an innumerable amount of thoughts plaguing both of your minds as the storm still raged outside. However, when Jeno couldn’t remember the last big strike of lightning, he began to shift in his spot, an arm unraveling from your body. “I think it’s died down-”

That was as far as he got before he felt your arm grab his wrist and wrap it back around your body. In the darkness, he let the brightest smile reach his face, taking a moment to squeeze you extra tight. That’s when more lightning hit and your figure began to tremble in his arms again, the smallest of whimpers escaping you. Jeno let out a soft sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Don’t worry. I won’t go anywhere.” He says smoothly. Though, as he shuffles slightly to check the time on his watch, he lets out a small exhale of laughter. “But you have to keep me entertained then. What’s new?” He asks playfully, but the question surprises you. New? Nothing on your mind was about anything new in your life and you couldn’t bring yourself to find anything new to talk about. So instead, you squeeze your eyes shut and build up the courage to address the one thing that was very much not new.

“Jeno, what was that all about when we were eighteen?” You ask, the words coming out more firm than any of your others so far that night. 

Jeno’s arms around you stiffen, and he manages to let out a wry laugh. “Do you still think about that?” He asks in return, and you swear you could feel the knife through your chest this time.

“Every day. Am I not supposed to? Did that not matter to you?” You shoot back, finding more emotion with every word. 

Jeno sighs deeply. “Y/n, nothing’s ever mattered to me more than that night…except maybe this one if I can get it right.” He speaks softly, hesitantly, as though he were scared of saying something wrong. He hasn’t yet, though. All he’s done is confuse you.

“What?” You ask, matching his voice level. Jeno shakes his head and you think he’s shutting off completely, but instead he just picks you up from out of the hug and places you so that you’re sitting face-to-face with him. Surprising you, he reaches out his hands and starts idly playing with your fingers. His head was dropped to face his lap, it was like having your touch was his last strength. Then he starts talking.

“Y/n, you’ve kept my heart and mind occupied for the last four years - before that, really. Long before that. The moment I understood what a crush was, I had a crush on you. All that tiny-me wanted to do was hold your hand.” As he says this, he ceases fiddling with your fingers to instead intertwine them with his own; staring at the interlocked hands with a weak grin before promptly pulling away again and dropping his hands to rest in front of his lap. “Um- but I couldn’t because of course that was the one thing Jaemin told me not to do. I couldn’t get involved with you. So, I didn’t, and I pretended to be interested in other girls in high school so that he wouldn’t get suspicious. But then that prom theme was announced and I found my one in - a stupid one, but an in. That was my one chance to do something about the ache in my chest all those years. Except, it really didn’t fix anything at all. We kissed and I haven’t known a day of peace since - my lips long for yours every second of every day. I didn’t date at all in college. Jaemin would tease me about the fact that I was one-half of the hot duo of best friends but never managed to get with a girl, and I didn’t know how to tell him my heart was already yours - that it’s been yours longer than it’s been mine.”

Suddenly, Jeno was making your world slow down again. His smooth voice saying words you didn’t know you needed to hear, bringing light to the dustiest corners of your heart, making you feel whole again, and yet, none of it made sense. “Then why- that morning- why…?” That was all you could get out before the tears previously pricking at the corners of your eyes began to speed down your cheeks. You didn’t need to finish your question though. Jeno knew exactly what you were getting at, and he was already preparing himself to address it before you even brought it up. 

He shakes his head slowly, defeated as he draws back on the past. “I was a stupid eighteen year old kid. Every night, I go back to that morning and think about what I could’ve done differently - what I should’ve done. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t regret letting you walk away. The truth is, I was terrified. I didn’t want to lose either you or Jaemin, and I didn’t know how to address what happened without risking doing so; which feels stupid to say because acting how I did was a direct path to losing you. I never gave either of us the chance for closure and then lost you anyways. Every day since, I wanted to reach out, ask how you were, beg for you to let me back into your life, but I struggled with thinking I was worthy of that in the slightest. I still haven’t forgiven myself for it, I don’t think I deserve to. I don’t ever want to be okay with the fact that I let you walk away from me. I want to make sure I can never make that mistake again. That morning, I thought I could have my cake and eat it, too. I got to kiss you but I never had to let it get out and make Jaemin hate me. I was selfish when I decided not to talk about it that day. That’s the all of it. I was selfish. Which is funny because I was selfish when I asked to kiss you, too. I just don’t know how the same state of being could lead to the best thing I’ve ever done and the worst thing I’ve ever done.”

By the time he finished talking, silent tears were running down his face as well. You had never seen him as broken as he looked before you now, and when lightning flashed through the entire room and thunder rumbled through you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All you could care about was Jeno. 

“So, if we went back-” You start, but Jeno had already whipped his head up to face you, his sure gaze looking out of place amidst his tear-stained face.

“I would’ve told you we could talk about it whenever you wanted - whenever you were ready, and if it was that very second, I would’ve started explaining. Every time you’ve made my heart race and my stupid plan that formed the second I heard the theme for prom. How kissing you truly was like fireworks going off and it drove me crazy in all the best ways. How I want to be able to kiss you again and again if you’d let me, and that when Jaemin inevitably finds out, I’d take the blame for everything, but the last thing I’d do is apologize for it. I’d never apologize for loving you, the opposite, actually; I’d shout it out to the streets, people would be tired of hearing how much I care about you.” He manages to let the smallest of laughs play on his lips, but his gaze drops back down to his lap as embarrassment flushes his cheeks. “I mean- I don’t even know if you liked me back, but if you did, that would have been the last time you ever woke up without a goodmorning kiss from me.” 

You let out a light sigh, facing the comforter to hide the weak smile that painted its way across your face. When you finally pick your head back up, your arm moves up with it. Gently, you place a hand on Jeno’s cheek, thumb moving to wipe at the tears under his eyes as you guide his gaze back to you. The two of you held eye contact, your breathing and the rain outside being the only sounds to fill the room before you spoke up with a small encouraging nod. “Jeno, it’s okay to forgive yourself.” You say softly, and you watch as Jeno breaks.

His soft, silent tears turned into him bawling his eyes out, and you watch as he leaned forward, grabbing for you, hiding his face in the fabric of your shirt as his tears stain your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him tightly, occasionally running a hand through his hair as you wait for his sobs to stop. 

When he finally calms down, he pulls back from the hug again, wiping his face clean of tears, and dodging your eye contact. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles out, but you shake your head.

“I forgave you a long time ago...way before I wanted to, but I couldn't help it.” You say seriously, and Jeno finds the strength to meet your gaze again, enough for you to see the shock and question in his eyes. “I wanted to reach out, but I just- never knew how to begin again after all of that.” You continue solemnly. 

Jeno nods his head in contemplation, but soon enough, a small hopeful smile accompanies his features again. “We can start like this.” He says softly. Then he picks you up, turning you around and placing you back down on his lap, his arms wrapping around your torso from behind as his chin rests on your shoulder. “Tell me everything I missed from the last four years.” He prompts, and at every point where you could have fought back, you don’t. Instead, a grin spreads across your face and you just start talking. 

Jeno listens to you talk for what seemed like an hour at least, and in turn you do the same as he recounts every story from college that Jaemin hadn’t already told you…and some that he had - if it was a crime to enjoy listening to Jeno talk, then so be it. Though, once you caught each other up to speed, neither of you were content with heading to bed. Instead, you continued to talk about everything imaginable. The storm outside could have raged on, you weren’t aware. The only worry you had was whether you and Jeno were laughing so loud that it would wake up Jaemin. 

Eventually, the two of you had moved so that Jeno’s legs were laid out in front of him and your head was on his lap as you lay down perpendicular to his figure. You were in the middle of talking about obscure superpowers you would want, and why your choice was much better than Jeno’s. You rambled for who knows how long, but you finally look up to meet Jeno’s soft gaze, a corner of his mouth perked up in a smirk that you couldn’t describe as anything else but fond. Immediately, you cut yourself off, furrowing your brows at Jeno as you change the subject. “Stop looking at me like that.” You say, and Jeno seems to visibly snap back to the present moment.

“Like what?” He questions genuinely, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Like you want to kiss me.” You reply plainly. 

Jeno lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I do want to kiss you, it’s not just a look.” He says, taking one of his hands to brush your hair out of your face. 

You sigh, turning your head away to face the wall rather than him. “Jeno, I can’t fold that quickly. Not after four years of building up walls.” You say in a near whisper. 

His smirk fades as he purses his lips, hurt flashing across his features as he thinks back on the past four years. He swallows harshly, still running his fingers through your hair as he responds. “I know. I’m not asking you to. It’s my fault they’re there in the first place. You just asked what my look was about, so I figured I should tell you. I’ll try not to make it so obvious. I don’t mean to make things awkward between us now.” 

As he finishes talking, you move to face him again, brows furrowed in confusion and you realize you never addressed one specific thing he said. “Jeno, you won’t make things awkward between us. You said you don’t know if I even liked you back during senior year but- Jeno, I’ve had a crush on you for forever. I’ve always liked you back. I liked you back before I even knew I was liking you ‘back.’ I didn’t care - you were everything I ever wanted growing up, and though you’re an idiot sometimes, you still are.” At your words, tension visibly leaves Jeno’s body, small smiles teasing at both your lips as you make eye contact.

“Y/n, I know we’re still getting over years of hurt, and my actions meant you had it a lot worse but- if you really mean it, I’ll wait forever for your walls to come down again. It’s just you for me.” 

You sit back upright again, facing Jeno and trying not to think about how red your face felt and therefore probably was. “Just give me a little bit of time. When I get tired of you staring at me like that and not actually kissing me, I’ll talk to Jaemin. It’ll be a much easier conversation for him to have with me than if it were with you. Then the second he agrees to get rid of his stupid rule, I’m running right to you and kissing your pretty lips. Just give me some more time to heal.” 

Jeno nods, his crescent-eyed smile revealing itself for the first time since the trip started. “You have all the time in the world.” He reassures, but you just laugh a little bit, not missing an opportunity to tease him.

“Well, I should probably figure things out before we’re old and gray. ‘All the time in the world’ might not be the best-” He cuts you off, shaking his head.

“Nope. Not a problem. Not when time stops while I’m with you.” He replies confidently, and you freeze as your teasing attempt gets turned on its head. 

“Oh, shut up.” You say playfully, and when Jeno’s cheeks puff out as he smiles in response, you don’t think twice before leaning forward and pressing a small kiss to one of them. You immediately dodge eye contact as you pull back, but Jeno doesn’t let you off the hook that easily. He grabs at one of your hands, pulling your body back to face him and his stupid perfect smile.

“I so got you.” He says, but instead of a hint of arrogance covering his words, they’re spoken as though he can’t believe his luck. You duck your head, laughing a little. 

“Give me time - if not to get over my hurt then at least to build up courage to talk to Jaemin. Besides, I’d like to spend some more time with you under the best-friend label again anyways. I’ve missed it.” You say, and Jeno nods, already on the same wavelength as you. 

You don’t question it when the best-friend label looks a little different the rest of the night than it has in the past. Neither you nor Jeno had any intention of going to bed anymore, but that didn’t change the fact that laying down was the comfiest position, and if that came with Jeno spooning you as you both continued to talk about every topic in existence, well…you were just really close best friends. 

When you look over at the nightstand and realize a bright 6:28 on the clock is facing you back, you figure it was an acceptable time to actually start the morning. “You wanna go make coffee?” You ask plainly. You had reached the point where you’ve been without sleep for so long that it felt like you were fully energized again, completely ready to start the day. Jeno seemed to have been the same way, because your regular tone as opposed to your previously light, soft statements didn’t faze him. Although, he seemed thoroughly against your idea of getting up, shaking his head as he spoke.

“I can’t hold you if we’re out there.” He says through a pout, causing you to laugh. The two of you managed to find your way back to sitting up during the early hours of the morning, and he currently had you locked in your position on his lap, with no intentions of letting go. 

You run your hands over his arms around you, the light touch sending shivers throughout Jeno’s body. “You’ve held me for the past six hours. I think you should be sick of it by now.” You reply playfully, but Jeno just raises his eyebrows in suspicion. 

“Are you sick of it yet?” He teases, and all you can do is purse your lips because you knew he just won. 

Instead of giving him an answer, you just start trying to unravel his arms from around your body. “Not relevant.” You say through a smile. “Come on, Jen. Let’s make coffee.” 

Within milliseconds, Jeno has let you go and is up off the bed. “Okay! Let’s go!” He replies in a rush. You stare at him in confusion, wondering what had him flip so quickly. 

“Are you okay?” You ask with a laugh. Jeno just gives you the biggest crescent-eyed smile. 

“You called me ‘Jen.’” 

Your eyebrows remain raised, though now it’s more so because of skepticism rather than confusion. “You’re all giddy because I took one letter off your name?” You question, and Jeno just ducks his head to avoid eye contact with you. You roll your eyes instead. “Remind me in the future not to give you any pet names. Not if you’re already like this over ‘Jen.’” You tease, but Jeno shoots his head back up to look at you, betrayal crossing his features. You let out a light laugh. “I’m kidding. Let’s go.” You say, and Jeno finds his smile again as he grabs your hand to pull you out of bed, your fingers instantly falling from each other the second you open your bedroom door and step into the living area. 

Jeno motions for you to sit down at the table while he makes his way behind the counter and to the coffee machine. You watch as he grabs two mugs, and you know he’s starting on making your coffee first so it can cool down a bit while his own brews. You study his figure intently, a grateful smile coming onto your face as you duck your head, taking in the fact that this was another chance at the morning after prom, except this time, you’ve already done all the talking; now he just gets to make coffee and keep your already full heart company. 

You think the second coffee was halfway through brewing by the time you look back up towards Jeno. You freeze when you realize he was already staring at you, his features soft. He can’t stop the smile, nor the blush, from coming onto his face as you look back at him, and he immediately directs his attention back to the coffee machine, shaking his head as his smile grows bigger the more he dwells on the moment, and you know he’s thinking the same thing you were, this time thanking his lucky stars that you were still sitting there smiling back at him. 

Soon, it was just you and Jeno sitting across from each other, drinking coffee, watching the sun rise through the window, occasionally kicking each other’s feet underneath the table, and continuing with your never ending conversation. You were on your second round of coffee, Jeno on his third, when another bedroom door opens and Jaemin walks out lazily. Your face falls into concern as you fade out of your conversation with Jeno. “Hey, Jaem. Sorry if we were the reason you woke up.” You say genuinely, but he shakes it off.

“No, you’re all good. There was just some laughing that-” He cuts himself off, finally seeming to focus his attention on the scene in front of him. “Laughing? You guys are talking?” He questions, his tired expression immediately off his face.

You and Jeno share matching smiles as you stare back at Jaemin. “We were both up early and decided maybe holding grudges was not the thing to do in paradise.” Jeno replies, taking a moment to move his gaze from Jaemin and back over to you softly. You miss it though, just nodding along with his words as you watch relief wash over your brother. 

“Thank god.” He breathes out with a laugh, getting you and Jeno to chuckle as well. Immediately, Jaemin is grabbing his own coffee and sitting down with you both, hardly caring about it not even being eight in the morning yet because his best friends were back. 

The three of you sat around the table drinking too much coffee for about another hour before deciding to go on a walk along the coast. Jaemin was still in the middle, with you and Jeno and either end, but it was no longer to stifle the tension. Instead, conversation flowed as it always had between the three of you since you were five years old. Suddenly, the idea of having maybe canceled on the graduation trip just because Jeno was going to be here felt nauseating. This was how it was always meant to be, the three of you together and Jaemin at least playing the part of oblivious to the feelings you and Jeno could hardly suppress. Truthfully, there was no reason for Jaemin to be suspicious. Looking at the bigger picture, if he hadn’t suspected something was up during your high school years, there’s no way he would be able to tell that those very same feelings were still very much there.

When Jaemin suggested lunch a few hours later, you politely declined. “I actually think I’m gonna go up to the room and take a nap for a bit.” You say casually, though Jaemin looks at you as if you had two heads.

“A nap? You never take naps.” He shoots back in confusion. You let out a small laugh, knowing he wasn’t wrong, but then you bring your gaze back up to meet his own with a light shake of your head.

“I didn’t sleep because of the storm last night, so I’m pretty exhausted still.” You reply, but the confusion doesn’t leave Jaemin’s face.

“It stormed last night?!” He questions, apparently having slept through any trace of it. You and Jeno let out a laugh, nodding your heads.

“Yeah, it was pretty bad.” You answer, and Jaemin flashes his eyebrows in recognition before he turns back to you with worry in his eyes.

“Were you okay?” He asks, hints of guilt in his voice knowing how badly storms scared you while he was just sleeping peacefully through it. You quickly rid him of any worry, though, a small smile coming onto your face as you nod.

“Yeah,” you start softly, and it takes everything in you to not look over at Jeno and surely give away what exactly happened last night. “I was okay.” 

Jaemin’s shoulders visibly lose tension as he takes in your positive answer, then he nods his head. “Okay. Well, you can go back up to the room, then. Text us whenever you wake up and we’ll let you know where we’re at-” He says, but Jeno jumps in.

“Actually, Jaemin, I think a few more hours of sleep would do wonders for me, too.” He says with a chuckle. The statement surprises both you and Jaemin, though Jeno continues without missing a beat. “Would you be okay if I went up to the room for a bit, too?” 

Whereas you were worried Jaemin would start putting things together, he just shrugged, his reply full of sarcasm. “Oh no, I’m alone in paradise and the bar has already opened for the day.” He says with raised uninterested eyebrows. “I think I’ll be just fine.” 

The three of you share a bit of laughter before you and Jeno break from Jaemin to go back up to the hotel. You waste no time in slipping right back into pajamas and under the covers, your fatigue fully hitting once you were actually laying down again. Within seconds though, your bedroom door opens and in comes Jeno, pajamas adorning his figure as well. He wastes no time in making his way directly next to you in bed. You just watch as he immediately clings to you, wrapping an arm around your torso and shutting his eyes tight. You let out a small laugh - you should’ve known. “You’re an idiot.” You say playfully, and Jeno opens his eyes back up to stare at you with a pout.

“So, I can’t stay?” He asks, almost completely in defeat if you couldn’t pick up on the hint of playfulness he also shared in his tone.

You roll your eyes, speaking plainly. “You can, but we’re actually sleeping this time. You’re the reason I’m so tired in the first place.”

With your positive response, Jeno instantly pulled you closer to him, but he doesn’t let you take a stab at him that easily. “That wasn’t me, that was the storm.” He replies confidently, but you can practically see the smirk adorning his face, regardless of you being turned away from him. You shake your head with a smile, flipping around in his arms so that he was forced on his back, with you taking up half of his chest so you could face him. 

His familiar smirk was, in fact, painted across his lips, a slight tease in his eyes as he stared back at you. All at once, a wave of extreme consciousness hits you and you realize the only reason you moved to face him was because you were fully intending to kiss him after his remark. You feel your face go beet red and you immediately hide it in his chest. Jeno was oblivious to the internal battle you had put yourself through, figuring this was just how you wanted to sleep. He gently ran one hand through your hair before wrapping both his arms around your body and humming contently against the top of your head. 

You instantly decide that you couldn’t look back up and face Jeno right now, so you accept the fact that you were going to fall asleep listening to the drumbeat of his heart. What surprises you is the fact that, for as long as you were awake, his heart rate never seemed to calm down; and what you didn’t know is that he looked at you sound asleep in his arms for far too long before he could convince himself that it may be worth missing this moment in front of him to actually get some sleep, too. 

When you eventually wake up, you haven’t moved an inch from where you fell asleep on Jeno’s chest. His breathing was still stable, and a peek up at him confirmed he was still sleeping. A soft smile forms on your face at the sight of him, his hair all messy again from being against the pillow and making him look extra cute rather than hot and bothersome. You move your gaze over to the clock on the nightstand, letting you know that you had been asleep for almost two hours, and you figure the most important thing to do was step out from your bedroom and make sure Jaemin didn’t come back to the hotel and realize Jeno wasn’t in his own room.

So, you snake out of Jeno’s arms, trying your best not to wake him up. His arms fall from around you to on top of his own chest, but it doesn’t seem to disturb him, and you take that as a sign to continue silently sneaking out of your bedroom. You do a quick check around the hotel room, breathing a little easier seeing that none of it seemed touched by your brother recently. However, looking at your phone, you’re greeted with unread messages from Jaemin, asking how long you were going to be out for and if you all could catch the movie night on the shore that the hotel was hosting later on. 

You shoot back a text saying that you just woke up and would go bother Jeno until he was out of bed, too, adding on that the movie night sounded great. Then, you make your way back to your room to actually go bother Jeno until he woke up. 

However, bothering him looked a lot different than how you would typically bother Jaemin. Gently, you let your fingers glide through his hair, his soft hums in response causing you to smile. You move your hand down to instead brush against his cheek, and knowing that he was awake, though he had yet to open his eyes, you start talking softly. “Hey, you ready to get up?” You ask, though it wasn’t much of a question. 

Jeno shakes his head, his eyes still squeezed shut. “Not really. How long has it been?” He asks, his voice low and grainy, and suddenly you’re glad he hasn’t opened his eyes yet to see how red your face has gotten because of it. 

“Almost two hours.” You reply lightly, and Jeno takes an extra long inhale just to let out a deep sigh. “Come on, Jen.” You continue, gently rubbing your across his cheek. At the nickname, Jeno finally gives in, peeking one eye open to look at you before his face turns red and he opens both eyes with a small smile. “What?” You question with furrowed brows.

Jeno shakes his head. “Nothing. I just- like you being the first thing I see when I wake up.” He says through his smile, and you just roll your eyes. 

“You’re really bad at being just a best friend.” You tease, and Jeno’s smile turns playful.

“I’d say ‘I’ll work on it,’ but I’m not trying to be just a best friend long enough for it to matter.” He replies, and the blush races to cover your face again, too. 

“You’re actually the worst.” You shoot back, the grin still on your face. 

Jeno smirks at you, but the look in his eyes is fond. “You don’t mean that.” He counters, and you drop your head to face your lap, knowing he wasn’t wrong.

“Whatever.” You say with a laugh as you turn to start exiting your room again. “Please get out of bed before Jaemin gets bored and comes back to the room. He’s already texted me asking how long we’ll be. And I’m serious, going back up to the room to take a nap while I did is the last suspicious thing you can do on this trip.” 

Jeno matches your laugh, putting his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine. But it’s not my fault you’re the prettiest girl in the world. What am I supposed to do? Not have the biggest crush on you? That’s not an option.” 

You freeze and slowly bring your body back around to face Jeno. The instant your gaze meets his easy smirk, your head is facing the floor and your tongue darts out to lick your lips for a moment as you convince yourself not to give in with every breath. He lets out a heavy exhale that was meant to be laughter as he finally slides out of bed and walks up to where you were, placing the lightest kiss on the top of your head. “That’ll be the last of it.” He says softly, then making his way to freshen up before the two of you meet with Jaemin again. 

To your surprise, Jeno followed instructions well. The rest of the night included zero stolen touches or longing stares. Instead, it reflected any given night from your high school careers, and while you still could hardly stand the ache in your chest that popped up any time you were around Jeno, you wouldn’t have traded it for the world, because the three of you were happy all at the same time again - only slightly aided by the gelato in your hands and the old Disney movie projected on the screen set up by the shore. 

It was sometime after midnight when you all finally got back to the hotel room, and as Jaemin showered, Jeno stood at your bedroom door and begged for you to let him sneak in during the night and sneak back out early the next morning. You stared at him in disinterest, or at least tried to. “I’m not letting you sleep with me while Jaemin is across the hall. I’m sure you can control yourself for one night, Jeno.” You say, figuring starting out with ‘one night’ would be more effective than telling him he’d have to control himself for a huge chunk of the foreseeable future.

Jeno pouted, but when you just raise your eyebrows at him in response, he knows he’s lost, slumping back over to his own room and leaving you to get ready for the night. 

It was a little after breakfast the next morning when you all found yourselves back at the beach. The two boys stayed lounging on the chairs in the sand, claiming they were waiting for the sun to actually come out and heat up the ocean a bit before they would get in. You rolled your eyes at them, entering the water with ease as you spent some time by yourself. 

“Jeno, you’re staring at my sister.” Jaemin’s even voice cuts through the air, bringing Jeno back to reality and making him conscious of the fact that he truly was staring at you. Instead of getting embarrassed, he lets out a small defeated laugh.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to stare at her…just getting used to having her in my life again.” Jeno didn’t care if his statement implied that he would previously stare at you all of the time, too - he was tired of lying anyways. Jaemin just nods slowly, moving his gaze from Jeno and over to you some distance away in the water.

“You know, I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but I know it was your fault.” Jaemin continues, his tone not giving any hint as to his emotions. There was no playful tease hidden in his statement, nor was there even a trace of contempt. For the first time, Jeno thought, Jaemin was unreadable, and he didn’t know how to take it.

“Ouch.” Jeno replies through an exhale meant to double as laughter.

“Am I wrong?” Jaemin asks casually. 

Jeno shoots his gaze somewhere off to the side, his face finally losing the bits of playfulness he tried so hard to keep in the situation. “...no.” He replied in almost a whisper, and Jaemin lets something of a grimace cross his features. 

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze constantly shifting between you and Jeno before it falls to face his own lap with a sigh. “Don’t hurt her again.” He finally says monotonously, but the mention of ‘again’ has Jeno whipping his head towards him. Jaemin dodges his gaze, just continues speaking. “That’s always been the one reason to have that stupid rule since we were kids. I don’t have anything against you. You’re my best friend. I trust you probably more than anyone with her.” He says, and it’s then that he lifts his gaze to stare back at a wide-eyed Jeno, making sure he could tell he was serious as he continued. “I just don’t want her getting hurt, and I knew no one would hurt her as much as you if things went wrong.” 

Jeno swallows hard, he couldn’t tell if the weight of the world was currently falling off of his shoulders or crashing onto them. The shock he previously bore on his face almost immediately falls into remorse as he thinks about Jaemin’s words. “I’m sorry for hurting her the first time.” He says firmly, this time Jeno being the one to make sure Jaemin could feel the sincerity of his statement. 

To Jeno’s surprise, Jaemin finally lets out a small laugh to accompany his nod, directing his gaze back to you in the ocean. “I know.” He replies, and a wave of relief washes over Jeno as he’s able to crack a small grateful smile, too. Though, some parts of Jaemin’s words were still poking at the back of Jeno’s mind. 

“How long have you known that I liked her?” He asks weakly, dreading how many more stupid past decisions he had no reason to make as a futile attempt to hide his feelings - how many lies he didn’t need to tell, should Jaemin have already known anyway. 

Jaemin dispels his worry, shaking his head. “Part of me saw it as inevitable, so there was always a gut feeling, but I never knew how you felt towards her with any confidence while we were growing up. It’s just- two best friends don’t stop talking immediately after prom for no reason. I figured feelings finally had to have gotten involved that night.” Jeno nods his head solemnly, opening his mouth to reply but Jaemin cuts him off. “Don’t apologize again.” He says with a laugh as Jeno flicks his gaze back up to him. “I don’t want to hear another apology and I don’t want to know what happened. Just- don’t hurt her again, that’s all I ask.” 

Jeno’s gaping mouth turns into a soft understanding smile, and he looks back out to finally face you again. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Jeno debated telling you about his conversation with Jaemin for the rest of vacation. The second it happened, he wanted to run right to you, tell you that Jaemin wouldn’t mind if the two of you were together, and immediately make you his girl. However, he knew that you really wanted to have your own eventual conversation about it with Jaemin, and when you decide you’re ready to have said conversation and move things along with Jeno was not his own call to make. So, he kept it to himself, but now when he would stare at you as though you were the entire world, it wasn’t Jaemin’s attention he was afraid of catching, it was yours…cause the last thing he was going to do was break his promise to you about suspicious stuff. 

That of course meant that for the rest of vacation, you were clueless as to what had put such a giant, permanent grin on Jeno’s face. His crescent-eyed smile was more present than ever, and for the boy who you came to learn knew no anger, it was starting to seem like he knew nothing but happiness at all - how were you to know that you were the reason why?

 You were expecting the day after you got back from Hawaii to be boring at best, with nothing to do but unpack your luggage…and maybe also your feelings. You dreaded the idea of putting away over a week’s worth of clothes knowing that this closet wasn’t part of some hotel in Ko’Olina, but your own home. 

However, Jaemin quickly saved you from the torture, standing in the doorway and waiting for you to turn your attention to him. The second you realize he’s there, you turn off your music, facing him again with expectant eyebrows…which strangely matched his own. He had a smirk painted across his lips as he leaned against the doorframe and you had a gut-feeling you wouldn’t like where this was going. 

“Are you going to talk to me about Jeno yet?” He asks casually, and your stomach drops as your eyes widen. You quickly return your attention to folding the laundry on your bed. 

“What about Jeno?” You reply with a light laugh, trying to play it cool, but Jaemin just shakes his head, finally moving towards you with more intent. 

“Y/n, I’ve watched you fall in love with him every time he’s walked through our front door since we were five.” He replies, the statement falling from his lips as though he didn’t even have to think about it - cause he wasn’t lying. Your face drops and your hands fall idly at your side rather than messing with your clothes. 

“I’m not in love with him.” You say weakly, but you knew better, too. You could feel the way your face would glow every time you laid eyes on him, and Jaemin knew you even better than you knew yourself. Whatever defense you could build, he’s already seen right through. 

“I wouldn’t be mad if you were, you know?” 

You freeze at his words, sighing deeply before turning to look at your brother. “Jaem, are you trying to get me to tell you things you already know?” You watch as a small grin reaches his face again.

“It would be nice to hear it from you, yeah.” 

You shake your head, quickly losing the courage to look at him. “I don’t understand why you’re not mad. What you’re trying to get me to admit is the exact thing you made rules against.” 

Jaemin rolls his lips inward before shaking his head. “Yeah well, being mad at my sister is not my favorite thing in the world, so I try to avoid it unless absolutely necessary.” He says lightly, but when you still can’t meet his gaze, he sighs, adding on. “This is not one of those times…Besides, what I was trying to prevent in making that rule has already happened despite it, so it doesn’t much matter now.” 

You process Jaemin’s words with pursed lips. “You didn’t want me getting hurt.” You softly claim, though you let it hang as a question for Jaemin to confirm.

“No, I didn’t. Though, since it’s already happened and you seemed to have made it through just fine, I’d rather not care about whether or not you’re hurt as much as whether or not you’re happy.” 

You finally turn to look back at your brother again, his eyebrows raised expectantly. As you make eye contact, he unravels his arms from where they were crossed against his chest to instead hold them out for you to fall into, which you do; stepping into his hug as comfort immediately washes over you. “Jeno makes me really happy.” You say, and admitting that to Jaemin in this context seemed to finally settle the ground beneath your feet, like the entire world was waiting for your confession.

Jaemin laughs a bit, holding you slightly tighter in the hug. “I know. You make him really happy, too.” When Jaemin realizes you don’t intend to respond to that, he lets out a light sigh. “So…you should probably go to him and be all happy together, yeah?” He continues playfully. You whip your head out of his chest to look up at him.

“Are you sure you’re okay if your sister dates your best friend?” You ask seriously, though by now, a huge smile has made its way across your lips. Jaemin scrunches his face, looking back down at you.

“Maybe refrain from saying it like that and yeah, I’ll be okay. Besides, he’s our best friend, not just mine.” At his words, you’re practically jumping to get out of Jaemin’s arms, and he lets you go with a laugh. You scramble for your phone, immediately calling Jeno, who picks up on the first ring. 

“Hello.” His voice cuts through the speaker as you’re already rushing out of your room.

“Go outside!” You command, and you hear Jeno’s laugh on the other end.

“What? Why?” He responds playfully, but you don’t take it.

“Go outside! I’m serious!” You reply.

“Chill, I went outside the second you told me to the first time. What’s this about?” He asks, but you’re too busy running through the downstairs and to the front door, trying not to crash into any furniture. You open the front door and turn to your left towards Jeno’s house two doors down. As soon as he makes eye contact with you, he hangs up the phone, but he doesn’t have time to question the huge smile on your face before you’re already darting towards him, and he seems to finally understand where this is going as he prepares himself to catch you. 

As predicted, your run towards him only ends when you jump into his waiting arms, your legs wrapping around his torso as he spins you around once before resting his forehead against yours. “Kiss me, Jeno.” You breathe out, and Jeno wastes no time. There it was again, the fireworks, and the feeling in your chest that you never wanted this moment to end. 

“About time.” Your mom says, peeking out from the doorframe where Jaemin was standing and watching the two of you. 

Jaemin drops his head with a small laugh. “Yeah, about time.”

[sockmeat]

Hello! I really like your blog and if i may ask for an Alastor x Lollipop overlord reader? Like reader doesn't look like a demon at all, she's cute, small, looks like a walking cotton candy, she's sweet to everyone and eat sweets. But she is dangerous like she has her dark side. Pretty please and thank you! <3

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝐅𝐄𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 --  𝑨 𝑳𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒐𝒑!𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑺/𝑶 (𝑯𝒂𝒛𝒃𝒊𝒏 𝑯𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒍)

(𝐰𝐜): 685

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You, a suspiciously cheerful overlord, catch Alastor's eye and fate takes control of your relationship.

(𝐀/𝐍): I mainly focused on the build-up to the relationship since I can't think of anything outside of my romantic hcs :PPP

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): None

                                                        𓆩♡𓆪

♡ Alastor first saw you as an enemy–a strong one, at that.

♡ You were an overlord, yet you were so sweet and innocent and loved to make people smile, just as he did.

♡ You intrigued him, but he knew better than to take your demeanor as a weakness. He would be stupid to. He knew that no matter how cute and welcoming you seemed, you must’ve done something truly monstrous to get the power you have.

♡ And Alastor found it riveting.

♡  He wanted to know what exactly you were hiding underneath all that candy.

♡ So, he approached you. He expected you to be threatened like any other overlord would be, especially considering his unforgiving reputation, but you were oddly welcoming.

♡ He decided he would meet you within your territory so if a fight were to break out, none of his would be broken.

♡ You weren’t hard for him to find. You were skipping down the streets, leaving a messy trail of cotton candy, lollipops, and sugar-stricken demons.

♡  Alastor greeted you and you didn’t seem all that surprised to see him there.

♡ The two of you made pleasant conversation while the demons around you avoided him like the plague.

♡  Alastor found himself enjoying your company more than he thought he would.

♡  Your carefree attitude was a nice breath of fresh air for him. Usually, people were either aggressive or timid around him, but demons were rarely chipper like you were.

♡ He was so captivated by you, he would often make excuses just for him to spend more time with you.

♡ Originally, he just wanted to observe you–how you operated normally and how you would react when you had an obstacle (that he was often the cause of.)

♡ However, his original plans crumbled when he started to fall for you.

♡ Alastor knew you liked him as well; you were much clumsier and nervous when he was around, something he knew only happened when you were with him because he’s been watching you for so long.

♡ He didn’t confess to you immediately.

♡ He instead chose to tease you, make you flustered and ensure that you really were attracted to him.

♡ He would stay unnecessarily close to you so he could lean down into your face whenever he pleased, give you gifts like sweets (he insists he just found it and hates sweets, but the wrapping is too pristine for road candy,) and insinuate that you two are together and deny it whenever you question him.

♡ Alastor is confident that you’ll be his, so he has no problem letting the chase drag on a little.

♡ You’re actually the one to crack and confess.

♡ While you were helping Alastor cook dinner for everyone, he teased you through lingering touches.

♡ He assigned you to cut the vegetables, chastised you for doing them wrong, then brought you to his chest and put his hands over yours to “show you how it’s done.”

♡ He regularly offered you samples of the food, keeping eye contact while he fed you and asked how you liked it while you were stuttering over your words.

♡ The final straw was when he told you not to get too close to the food or else you’d make it too sweet.

♡ You blurted out your confession before you could think and flushed when you saw his smile widen.

♡ He was very smooth with asking you out–you barely registered that he had actually asked you out before he finished serving dinner and called for everyone to eat.

♡ For your first date, he took you out for dinner where he reserved the entire restaurant for you two.

♡ Your dynamic hadn’t changed much from when you two were just pining.

♡ The only difference was Alastor could actually kiss you now, but he still doesn’t enjoy PDA much, so most people barely notice the change.

♡ You two are partners in crime with a good-cop bad-cop dynamic and strike fear into the citizens of Hell.

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