#not necessary for reading this though I just like the vibes

[redrose10]

Since spooky season is among us 7 or 8 would set those vibes 👀

Here is #7 from the picture game! I was hoping someone would request a spooky season one with this photo. It starts off pretty spooky but there is a lot of humor and stuff in there too. Also it’s kind of loosely based on that drama My Demon.

Warnings: Death, demons, small unwanted advancements, mention of hospitals and cancer

You looked around the room taking in the scenery as if it was all new to you even though you’d spent plenty of time there. Your grandma was a sweet woman. She really was, but sometimes you wondered what had happened in her life that caused her to become the way that she was now. She wasn’t always like this. Then one day she suddenly adorned her home with dozens and dozens of various crosses and pictures of the Virgin Mary. A bowl of Holy Water sat in each room. She recited prayers on the hour like her life depended on it. Even on her death bed it seemed to be the last thing she could think of. She held your hand as you studied her face trying to memorize every wrinkle and hair.

She hadn’t spoken in several days at this point. The nurses warned you to prepare for the end as it was near.

“Y/N”, she suddenly whispered with what little strength she had left.

Immediately you leaned forward, “I’m here grandma. I’m here. What do you need?”

“Y/N, I see him. I can see him. Do you?”

You looked around the room but it was only you and her. The nurse already having left for the night.

One of the pamphlets you read had talked about how hallucinations were common in the final stages of death. You remained quiet as your grandmother continued to mumble.

“Y/N, don’t make the same mistakes I have. I’m so sorry for what I did.”

You shook your head, “Grandma everyone makes mistakes. It’s okay. You did nothing wrong.”

“No Y/N. You don’t understand. If he ever comes to you, you run. You run away as fast as you can and don’t fall for his tricks.”

You were startled by her words but tried to remind yourself that the nurses told you this was normal and that it wasn’t really your grandmother talking any more.

“Y/N if you don’t remember anything I’ve ever taught you just please at least remember this. The Devil is real. And he's not a little red man with horns and a tail. He is beautiful. Because he's a fallen angel. And he’s here now Y/N. He’s here for me and I can’t avoid him any longer.”

She began to cry as her breath became even more ragged.

“Grandma it’s okay. It’s okay”, you said through tears trying to soothe her. You grabbed your phone to call the nurse hoping they could come administer some more sedatives or something. You hated seeing your grandmother cry in fear. But by the time the nurse picked up your grandmother had passed.

The nurse was at your door in no time. She helped you make the necessary phone calls and waited with you until the funeral home arrived. Once they were all gone and you were left alone sitting in your grandmothers room you stared at the now empty bed. The thought that your grandma’s last moments were filled with fear was more heartbreaking for you than anything else.

“Your grandmother was a good woman. I almost feel bad.”, a deep voice spoke behind you. You shrieked in fear jumping back against the wall.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?”, you screamed while frantically searching for your phone.

“Your grandmother just warned you about me. Were you not listening?”, he smirked.

You looked over this strange man who was standing in your grandmother’s bedroom. He had raven black hair and sleek cat like eyes. He was dressed in all black. His long cloak hanging lazily off of him. Skin without a single blemish. He looked like an angel.

“I’m sorry I’m still confused as to who you are and why you’re here.”, you said while slowly inching towards the door hoping you could make a run for it.

“Y/N, I’m here to collect what is mine.”

Your skin turned ice cold. Was he the man that your grandma had been seeing in her final moments? And how did he know your name?

The man let out an annoyed sigh before snapping his fingers teleporting you to an unknown location. The room was filled with thousands and thousands of clocks. All ticking away. The sound was overwhelming. Under each clock was a name plate. You gasped when you read the name under the clock directly in front of you.

Unlike the others your grandmothers clock wasn’t ticking any more and instead of being a beautiful gold color like the rest, it was gray.

“What is all this?”, you asked.

“Well I grant wishes.”

“Like a genie?”

“Yes…wait no not like a genie.”

“Well genies grant wishes so…”

“You humans really are insufferable.”, he scoffed before pinching the bridge of his nose, “As I was saying, I grant wishes for people in need. I come to them when they are the most vulnerable and in exchange for granting their wish they sign a contract stating that at the end of their life their soul will eternally be mine.”

You looked over this man trying to make sense of what he just said and why it involved your grandma.

“So what does this have to do with my grandmother?”

He grinned as he was happy to relive the moment, “Many many years ago I was at a hospital. It’s one of the easiest places to make a deal. People are willing to sign away their eternity if it means saving their loved ones or even extending their own time on earth. I came across your grandfather. He had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer, given less than three months to live. He was worried how your grandmother would be able to survive without him. She had a young child at home, only working part time at a bakery. He was desperate to make sure she was taken care of. Soooo I made him a deal. At his next doctors appointment he would be magically cured and then would live the rest of his life cancer free and when he died as an old man warm in his bed, his soul would be mine.”

You stared at him in disbelief.

He continued, “When your grandmother found out she was livid. She tracked me down and begged me to make a deal with her. At first I declined because I make the deals, not some measly human. But she was relentless. I kind of admired her honestly. Finally I gave in and made her a deal. Instead of taking her husbands soul I would get hers. She spent the rest of her life thinking that cheap porcelain crosses and holy water would save her. She paid her dues and now her soul is mine for eternity.”

Tears brimmed your eyes as you shook your head backing away from him, “You’re a monster.”

“Well they don’t call me the devil for nothing babe.”, he smirked.

Your grandmothers words repeated in your head. The devil can be beautiful and here he was standing in front of you looking as bewitching as ever.

“So what happens to the souls after you take them?”

“They’re used to fuel the livelihood of hell. Kind of like you would put gasoline in a car.”

You scoffed, “Okay and what happens when people stop making deals with you and you can’t collect any more souls?”

The devil let out a loud laugh, “That will never happen. Humans are far too selfish and weak. They will always be willing to make a deal if it benefits them in some way.”

You glared at him as hard as you could but deep down you knew he was right.

“Well it’s been a pleasure Y/N.”

“Wait! How do you know my name?”

“Babe, I know everyone and everything.”

And with that he snapped his fingers and you were back at your grandmothers and alone and confused.

Tonight was going to be a good night. You were showered and moisturized and ready to go out and have a great time. You had just exited your shower and was walking your way to the bedroom when you were greeted by a familiar voice.

“Give it back.”

You jumped in shock making sure your were completely covered with the towel.

“Excuse me! You can’t just enter into people’s homes like this.”, you spat, “I could’ve walked in here naked.”

“And I could’ve just walked into your shower and saw you naked myself if I wanted to but I didn’t. So now give it back!”, he demanded really not in the mood for anything right now.

“Give what back?

“My powers?”

“You’re pow- What?”, you’d said walking into the living room.

“Where are you going?”

“To call the police like I should’ve the first time.”

The devil lunged forward and grabbed your wrist pulling you against him, “Y/N, you really don’t want to do that.”

“You smell like cinnamon and vanilla.”, you whispered.

His brows furrowed, “What am I supposed to smell like?”

“I don’t know. Smoke with a touch of sulfur.”

“Seriously? Do you also think I should have horns and a pointy tail?”

“Actually ye-“

He shook his head, “Never mind that. You’re getting me off topic. Give me back my powers.”

“What powers? I don’t have any powers. Trust me because if I did you wouldn’t be here right now.”

He ran a hand through his somehow still perfectly styled hair, “Ever since I met you my powers have been all out of sorts. You are the only thing that was different from my normal routine. So what did you do to them?”

“Listen devil boy, I didn’t take your powers. And I really don’t appreciate you thinking you can just show up here whenever you want either. You made a deal with my grandparents, not me.”, you said poking your finger into his chest.

He looked at you somewhat shocked. No one had ever had the nerve to speak to him like that and he had to admit that he kind of liked it.

He straightened up his jacket before stepping away to give you some space, “Okay first off my name isn’t devil boy. You can call me Yoongi. Secondly if you didn’t take my powers then what happened to them?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know? Maybe you got fired or demoted or something.”

He snorted, “I am great at my job and I’m like literally the king of hell. Who’s gonna fire me?”

Rolling your eyes you grabbed your bag and started heading towards the door, “Look Yoongi I certainly don’t have your powers but if I come across them I’ll give you a call.”

You left him standing there alone and speechless.

“No thanks”, you said to the same guy for probably the 10th time. He didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. “Hey I think I’m gonna get out of here and go home.”, you said to your friend. The noise and the people getting to be too much. She asked if you were okay by yourself which you were so you paid your tab and headed for the front door. As you waited for your ride a presence walked up next to you. Before you could react you were being dragged away down a dark alley next to the club.

“Since you didn’t want to play nice, now

I have to forcefully take it from you.”, said someone. You recognized the voice as the man who was insistent in the club earlier.

You whimpered while trying to break free of his grasp but he was significantly stronger than you were.

“Mmm you smell really nice.”, he said running his nose against your neck.

A loud bang rang through the air and smoke began to fill up the space around you. In an instant the man was thrown back against the opposite wall. Intimidatingly Yoongi stood next to you. He stared daggers at the man as he was picked up nearly twenty feet int he air before slammed back against the ground.

“If you ever even think about her again you’ll die instantly.”, Yoongi growled as he kneeled down next to the man.

He took the hint and hastily sprinted out of the alleyway somehow still in one piece.

“I thought you lost your powers?”, you questioned.

“Oh gee thanks for saving me Yoongi. That was really sexy of you. How can I ever repay you for that?”, he mocked in a high pitched voice.

You ran your tongue over your teeth before sighing, “Thank you for saving me Yoongi. That was really ANGELIC of you. I’ll repay you by getting out of your hair and going home.”

You tried to walk past him but he grabbed your wrist, “Not so fast Y/N. It seems like my powers are only strong enough when I’m near you.”

“Alright so what does that mean?”, you inquired.

He moved closer to you. So close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

“It means that you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together.”, he smirked, “And I hope you’re ready for it babe.”

[forelevenses]

Fandom: Lord of the Rings

Pairings: Frodo Baggins/Samwise Gamgee

Summary:

On a rainy morning, Sam has difficulty climbing out of bed.

Just a fic about them cuddling as it rains outside, just cozy vibes.

[electric-friend]

i never REALLY cared one way or the other wether or not ed was illiterate but by the time they revealed he could read i was honestly a bit annoyed by it, for no other reason than that i had gotten really fucking sick of people saying it was racist or classist to assume that ed couldn’t read because they were conflating illiteracy with stupidity and saying it was an insult to ed’s intelligence which was always so frustrating to me. ed can be very smart and still be illiterate. maybe he wasn’t able to teach himself because he was too busy trying to survive or because he had trouble reading for some reason and he didn’t have the money to access the education for it as a kid. there are adults who can’t read or write in the world and that doesn’t make them stupid and it was never racist or classist to assume that ed might not be able to read or write. at first i didn’t care but the fandom’s attitude towards illiteracy made me hope that ed was illiterate just so people would stop treating illiteracy as a sign of ed being stupid or people being bigoted in their interpretation *because* it was being seen as a sign of ed being stupid. so that when it was revealed ed could read, just because of the fandom’s attitude, i was like “well that’s annoying”. cause now nobody is going to talk about how dumb the attitude towards illiteracy was in the fandom.

[annabelle--cane]

"the magnus protocol had a whole ARG beforehand? what?"

yes! it did!

"oh so I need to have participated in this whole big thing to actually understand the podcast?"

not at all! from the official post-mortem put out by RQ, "while the ARG was not something that was necessary to participate in to understand the magnus protocol, it was designed to contain a wealth of background story and context that would enrich any player's listening experience."

"a wealth of background context that would enrich my listening experience 👀👀👀 how can I learn about this?"

SO glad you asked. sadly, many of the materials made for the arg have been taken down since the game ended 😔 (ex., the official OIAR, magnus institute, and bonzoland websites. (edit ii: I found partial wayback machine captures! see below) though @strangehauntsuk is still up!), so we're a bit low on primary sources, but in terms of learning about what happened:

for a starting point, I would really recommend this video by @pinkelotjeart

it's super accessible, it was made in real time as the game progressed and follows the solving and revelation of clues as they happened, it hits all the major points of the mystery and moments of community insanity while eliding some of the nitty gritty puzzle grinding, 10/10 would recommend.

here's the official summary put out by RQ, and I'd recommend reading through this once you've already gotten a basic handle on the flow of the story and the basic connections between major clues and events. it's got some fun behind-the-scenes info and lays out the thought process behind the puzzles in simple terms

here's the full masterdoc of all puzzles and resolutions put together in the statement remains discord server. masterdoc my absolute BELOVED, masterdoc my bethrothed, masterdoc my soul mate. I'd recommend this as a second port of call after the above video as it either contains all details about the puzzles or links to other expanded docs that do.

here's the narrative summary doc that lays out all the plot and lore discovered in three pages of plain prose. if you just want to get to the good bits as fast as you can and get blasted directly in the face by contextless lore bombs, this is the doc for you. if you don't want to start with the video, I'd say this is another good entry point.

once you've got the lay of the land, some of the game materials that I found particularly interesting include:

the in-universe east germany expat usenet forum, with all content translated into english. most of it is irrelevant space filler with occasional extremely sus lore, but I still found it fun to read through. love to soak in some fictional forum drama.

chdb.xlsx, the spreadsheet of the names of all the children the protocol 'verse magnus institute was studying/experimenting on. EDIT: here is a version of the sheet without any annotations and with all of the names in their original order, kudos to @theboombutton for catching that the commonly shared copy had the order swapped around.

klaus.xls, a (very corrupted) spreadsheet with what looks like the classifications of a bunch of old OIAR cases.

EDIT: have a few more saved materials from the game that I forgot to include.

an in-universe audio ad to apply to the OIAR that ran before archives episodes and kicked off the whole game.

an in-universe video ad to apply to the OIAR, this one is an official upload that's still up from the game itself. you can subscribe to the OIAR's official youtube channel today, if you so chose.

the robo-voicemail greeting from the OIAR's phone line.

EDIT II:

here is a wayback machine capture of the OIAR's official website.

here is a wayback machine capture of the bonzoland website.

(pretty sure both of the above captures just archived the home pages, though I haven't tried clicking all of the links. I'd say they're still worth looking at, the home pages give a good window into the vibes.)

once you start poking around in these documents, you'll find a bunch of links to others with further information, the materials I've included here just contain what I feel to be the most relevant details to getting a broad feel for the whole game. once again, huge shout out to the statement remains server, I was barely in there as the ARG was in progress and only ducked my head in every so often to find links like these. true mvps of the fandom.

[gicosmo]

When They Neglect You Pt.1

One Piece Men(Luffy, Shanks, Mihawk, Corazon)

Warnings: Neglect, A bit a toxicity on Mihawk’s part, Corazon being a stressed, Doflamingo(he deserves his own warning), Just overall angst for this first part :((

This is my first time writing for One Piece characters lol. I’m sorry if any of them are ooc😔Part 2

Luffy

You knew Luffy would never intentionally ignore you. Let alone neglect the whole relationship. But that didn’t stop the pang in your chest when you realized you weren’t spending as much time with him.

Walking around on an island, the town was bustling with people. The crew finally had some air to breathe after continuous battles. Finally, you thought you had a chance to be close with your boyfriend again. Reaching for his hand to hold, he suddenly stops, snatching his hand away from yours.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt your feelings. It hurt. A lot.

“Looks like we’re fighting again.” Luffy chuckles, cracking his knuckles with a sly smile. Zoro huffed, readying his sword by his side. Sanji sighed, “Do we ever catch a break?”

“Luffy—”

“Sorry! Not now!” Luffy replied ever so quickly before jumping straight into fighting. Even though it was a moment to fight, a hurt feeling still rose in your heart.

You felt like you were overreacting… Or maybe this was just the result of being constantly pushed aside, regardless if intentional or not?

Shanks

Sadly, it wouldn’t be the first time Shanks had neglected the relationship. And it definitely won’t be the last.

But this incident ticked you off to the max. After sailing to an island, Shanks had conducted his usual business. After he was done, of course the crew had to celebrate(even when it wasn’t really necessary).

In the bar the crew cheered and laughed. The overall vibe was positive, nothing but smiles plastered on everyone’s faces. Well… Everyone except you. Throughout the night you had tried getting Shanks’ attention, but his attention was always elsewhere.

You were moping in the corner, your brow twitching in irritation. After a while, Beckman made his way over to you with a soft smile,

“Someone’s upset.” He chuckled.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” You sighed, rubbing your temples. Beckman just shook his head with a smile, “When is it never.” He grabbed a chair, sitting next to you, “Go on. Tell me what he did this time.”

You laughed. Beckman always had to be the peacemaker, “It’s what he always does, Beck. Every time I want a bit of his attention, it’s always elsewhere.” You sighed as you looked up, the sight you saw sending you over the edge.

There Shanks was, chatting it up with someone else. Being a bit too friendly for your liking. Beckman followed your gaze, immediately mentally face palming. He was about to speak but you had already left the bar.

All Beckman could do was sigh and shake his head. Seems like he had to be the one to make peace. Again.

Mihawk

Your relationship with Mihawk was nothing but bliss. Everybody around you would be shocked to hear of such a sweet relationship ever happening with such an apathetic man like him. But he loved you… Or so you thought?

When Zoro and Perona lived with you both for two years, your relationship did have its moments of distance. Mainly due to Mihawk helping with training for Zoro and you doing your duties that you usually did.

You both knew having two strangers, two strangers that were practically your guy’s children during those two years, would put some type of strain on the relationship. But you both silently agreed that you both always found a way to make things work.

When Zoro and Perona left, you couldn’t lie about the slight emptiness that filled the castle. The only upside was now you could be close with your lover again. Well, you thought that was supposed to be an upside, only it didn’t happen.

“I’m busy.” Mihawk spoke with little to no interest, not even sparing you a glance as he read the newspaper. You crossed your arms, glaring at him, “Mihawk, it’s been weeks since those two left and you still haven’t at least tried to put some effort into our relationship again?”

Mihawk sighed, a sigh you knew all too well,

“I honestly don’t understand what you’re getting upset about.”

“And I honestly don’t know who you’re talking to right now.” You snapped back rather quickly. Mihawk placed his newspaper down, standing up and staring you down, “You’ve never been this much of a pain before. We were and are quite fine.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. He thought the relationship was… Fine? You immediately scoffed, “Oh? So you think us being distant from one another is fine?”

“I liked it when you weren’t a nagging brat.”

“I’m nagging now? Seriously?”

All you could do was shake your head. Not bearing to hear whatever else he had to say, you immediately stormed off.

Little did Mihawk know, you got on a boat and left. You didn’t know where you were going, but anywhere was better than being with someone who clearly didn’t care for you anymore.

Corazon

Corazon was also someone who wouldn’t intentionally neglect you. Your relationship was a secret from the Donquixote family, more specifically, Doflamingo.

Corazon and you took a liking to one another. You didn’t care that he was mute, well, you thought he was mute until he revealed who he really was to you one day. That faithful day solidified your relationship. He couldn’t have been any happier.

What he wasn’t happy about, however, was Doflamingo’s ever so obvious liking to you. Countless times he had to sit there and witness his brothers constant flirts and rather interesting remarks about you. The whole thing made his blood boil.

Everything changed when Law came into the picture. Corazon made it his mission to save him, and you, of course, tagged along on said mission. You really didn’t have a choice since Corazon wouldn’t dare leave you alone with his brother.

Going from hospital to hospital was stressful for everyone. Corazon witnessing how horrible society really was irked him day by day. He slowly began to lose hope, but didn’t show it much. But you knew better than that.

Day by day, he would pull away from you. In all honesty, you barely noticed it since you were so busy comforting Law. It was one day when Law was sleeping, you went to talk about your frustrations to Corazon only for his responses to be short. If you even got a response, that is.

Of course you were hurt, but you understood. This whole thing was stressful on everyone. You could keep your feelings to yourself or find other ways to let out your frustrations.

But you couldn’t.

Law thankfully had comfort from you. Corazon found comfort in occasionally smoking and sometimes maybe a drink or two. You? You had nothing.

You wanted nothing more but the love from your partner… But you felt selfish for wanting that when you all had more important things to worry about.

[kamaluhkhan]

TIME TO PRETEND

pairing: luke castellan x gn!poseidon!reader word count: 5k chapter summary: you're the eldest child of poseidon and the hero of the last great prophecy. you left your demigod life behind after defeating kronos. now, years later, you find yourself back at camp half blood for the summer.....which means dealing with luke castellan, and all that history (tension?) left unresolved between you. warnings: some nicknames for reader are based on female characters (mermista, sailor neptune) but they're still written as gender neutral. reader has tattoos. mention of alcohol + death (post-titan war). spoilers for the entire pjo (book) series, mostly references to the last olympian. timeline is all over the place but set in the early 2000s for vibes. no betrayal (au where chris was the one who sided w kronos and led the titan army) so slightly ooc luke <3 author's note: welcome to another product of my pjo hyperfixation !!! i wanted to finish the nemesis!reader series first but it's summer and i felt like reworking my tsitp series in a camp half-blood setting with bb luke. so prepare for childhood friends to lovers drama! summertime vibes! nostalgia! angst! would love to know what y'all think about this and if you want a part 2 so feel free to scream at me in the comments. otherwise, enjoy and thanks 4 reading 💙

♪: time to pretend by mgmt

YOU’VE GOT MAIL!

1 new message 

from: LukeNotSkywalker

to: Mermista86

subject: you are GETTING that record deal

Hey,

Your demo CD just came in the mail — and, Connor as my witness, I’ve already listened to it five times!!! 

It’s amazing. You’re amazing. The label would totally lose out if they didn’t sign you. 

Things have been pretty chaotic around here, with the summer term happening soon. Speaking of which: are you coming back? Chiron gave me the list of returning campers and counsellors this morning and said he hadn’t heard from you, so I thought I’d ask. I know you’ll be busy with the band, but if you get the chance, it’d be really great to see you.

Anyways, I’m leading the next Shield & Sword session, so I’d better go. Talk soon ;)

- L

FOUR YEARS LATER

TURBULENT WATERS? ALT-ROCK BAND MIDNIGHT SIRENS HIT ROUGH PATCH AFTER LEAD GUITARIST GETS INTO VIOLENT ALTERCATION 

the cover is the nail in the coffin: a blurry picture of you, an electric blue guitar forgotten at your feet, lunging forward into a crowd, with your bandmates on stage behind you in shock. 

you’d gone all this time without any major incidents, and one stupid chimera managed to burn down everything you worked for in one fell swoop.

“that’d be $8.50,” the cashier informs. 

you tear your attention away from the magazine, instead fishing through your pocket for some change. meanwhile, the cashier furrows their brow, leans down slightly to get a better look at you underneath your sunglasses and baseball cap. 

“hey, do i know you?”

“nope,” you say instantly, slapping a $10 bill onto the counter. “keep the change.” you gather your pile of necessary roadtrip supplies (slushies, m&m’s, and goldfish) before rushing out the door, your half-brother trailing behind you.

you slide into the driver’s seat, set each slushie in a cup holder, and hand the rest to percy once he’s slipped into the passenger side. 

“seatbelt,” you remind him. you shake your hair out after removing your baseball cap disguise. “i promised your mom i’d be responsible.” 

percy does as he’s told, though not without mumbling about how he’s practically an adult and a demigod who’s been in much more dangerous situations than a car ride up to long island. you just tell him to put on some music, even though he has a point. he’ll be 18 in august and you’re only five years older, but the fact is that you gave sally jackson your word. 

plus — you’re his older sibling, so gods forbid you let him get hurt. a seatbelt seems like a band-aid solution for one of the most powerful demigods out there, but still.

percy flips through a few radio stations while he sips his blue raspberry slushie. when he doesn’t find anything good, he opens the glove compartment and surveys your music collection before sliding a cd into the stereo. 

instantly, the familiar sound of david bowie’s voice eases the tension in your shoulders.

“good choice?” 

you nod and percy smiles triumphantly. you reach over to steal a few goldfish from the bag he just opened and ruffle his hair playfully, for good measure. 

you’re perfectly happy, driving along a long island highway while getting lost in the glam rock world of ziggy stardust, but it isn’t long until percy interrupts: 

“are you finally gonna tell me what happened, or do i have to read it from some trashy gossip magazine like everyone else?”

“well, your dyslexic ass can barely read so….”

you look over at him briefly, and laugh when you see him stick his slightly-blue tongue out to you. 

“at least my dyslexic ass is actually decent at ancient greek. luke told me you failed the reading test, like, a million times.”

your heart twinges at the mention of your old friend. 

friend.

if you could still call him that. 

thankfully, percy doesn’t give you much room to dwell on the past, too focused on your drama-filled present.

“so, what is it? you got kicked out of the band? lost everything? have nowhere else to go?”

you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “i did not get kicked out.” 

“then, what happened?”

“just the usual.” you shrug. “monster attack, mortals who can’t see through the mist. i tried to explain it away after — something about how i saw someone in the crowd attack another person and i stepped in to help. most people bought it, but the media loves drama and the label’s worried i’m a flight risk now. apparently, everything will blow over if i just keep a low profile for the next few months. so….no. i didn’t lose everything.” you take a deep, like when anyone other than children of poseidon are about to go underwater and they’re not quite sure when they can come up for air. 

“i just don’t really have anywhere else to go,” you finish.

“damn.” percy offers you a blue shark gummy (or whale - you and percy had already debated the shape of the candy that sally packed for the trip, and the jury’s still out). you gratefully accept. “well, i know it’s not the best reason, but i’m excited to spend the summer together.”

despite everything, you find yourself smiling. 

“me too, kid.” 

“it’d give me a chance to kick your ass in sword-fighting.”

“you wish!” you nudge his shoulder, both of you giggling. once the laughter’s died down, you glance at percy once more. “hey – did you tell anyone i was coming?”

percy shakes his head. “why?”

you take a long swig of your drink until you’re on the brink of brain freeze. 

“no reason.”

it’s just after lunch when you arrive at camp half-blood. 

you weren’t sure what you were expecting — maybe not some futuristic technological developments that had been discovered within the years you were gone, but definitely not for camp to look pretty much exactly the same as when you left. 

instantly, you find comfort in the familiar scenes: a dragon, peleus, guarding the magical borders; dryads and satyrs picking strawberries in the fields next to the forest; chiron standing near the central guidepost, greeting and guiding every camper in the right direction.

chiron smiles down at percy and practically does a double take when his eyes land on you.

“mx. l/n! it has been a while. are you here to drop off your brother, or do you plan on staying for the summer?”

before you can answer, someone appears behind him. 

“perce! hey!” 

“hey, luke.”

luke gives him a side hug, and percy shoves him away with a laugh when he ruffles his hair. it’s then that luke acknowledges you, though he looks like that’s the last thing he wants to do.

“i thought i’d never see you again. what are you doing here? ”

chiron turns to you expectedly. “i believe you have yet to answer that question of mine as well.”

“staying for the summer…” you adjust the shoulder strap of your backpack, uneased by luke’s cold demeanor. “i hope that’s okay.”

“of course!” chiron’s smile grows wide, eyes crinkling. “you’ll resume your position as head counsellor of cabin 3.”

“so i’m dethroned? just like that?” percy guffaws.

you nudge percy’s shoulder. “fulfill the next great prophecy, and then we’ll talk.” 

percy rolls his eyes playfully. luke, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to appreciate your tongue-in-cheek remark. his jaw tightens, and he suddenly finds a deep interest in the clipboard he’s holding.

chiron clears his throat, likely sensing the tension. “yes, well, i’m sure you remember how things work around here. if not, mr. castellan has been keeping this ship afloat. he's always here to help.”

“always.” luke smiles, but it’s elastic, threatening to snap at any moment. someone calls his name, and he walks away to deal with whatever chaos is waiting for him.

summer — age 15

you weren’t exactly conscious when you first arrived at camp half-blood. 

apparently, coach hedge, a satyr and protector, found you just in time and had to practically drag you up half-blood hill after a particularly gruesome fury attack. 

when you woke up and saw luke sleeping next to you in a chair, his curls overgrown and falling onto his eyes, you thought you had died and gone to elysium. 

you took in your unfamiliar surroundings. some sort of infirmary, with only your best friend next to you, the one you hadn’t seen in almost a year since you’d parted ways. 

then, you remembered what was happening before you passed out; it was more likely that you were being tricked into a false sense of security by that fury, who definitely planned on devouring you later.

with a newfound sense of urgency, you decided it was time to get out of there before it was too late. you were reaching for your knife when you felt a hand grab your shoulder. without losing a second, you twisted your body around, weapon at the ready.

whoever it was watching over you sure looked like luke. he was wearing a bright orange shirt and leather cord necklace with one clay bead. another point of difference was the jagged scar that cut across his left cheek.

“it’s just me,” he said, gently. “you’re fine here. you’re safe.”

you weren’t convinced, kept your knife in front of you to keep distance. “prove it.” you narrowed your eyes. “tell me something only luke would know.”

“you’re left-handed.”

“that’s a great observation,” you scoff.

“storm is your favourite x-men character.”

“that’s a very popular opinion.”

“your aunt would make us mango lassi after swim camp when she got home from work,” luke tries for the third time. “and, my mom - she used to call you ‘starfish.’”

your heart skipped a beat.

that was the confirmation you needed. 

the knife dropped from your hand, clattered on the wooden floor, as you pulled luke in for a hug. you were greeted by a familiar scent, that pear shampoo luke loved because it made his hair so soft, mixed with the smell of fresh pine trees. 

“it’s really you,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

despite sleeping for gods know how long, you were exhausted. you rested your weight into luke, but he didn’t seem to care.

“it’s really you. i thought i’d never see you again.”

“where are we?” you asked, breaking away to face luke. you ignored the wooziness you felt throughout your body; luke seemed to sense it, his grip around you tightening. “are annabeth and thalia here, too? how’d you get here?” your thumb traced the unfamiliar scar on his face. “what happened? are you okay —”

“i-i’ll answer all your questions, but you lost a lot of blood.” luke guided you to lay back down in bed. “we’ll explain everything. just get some rest.”

a third scenario entered your mind: this was all a dream. you’d close your eyes and when you opened them again, luke would be gone. you’d be alone again.

you couldn’t let go of luke’s hand, even as he tucked you back into bed. you tugged his wrist, silently urging him to join you.

“will you stay with me?” you finally croaked when he continued standing. 

luke looked at you, and you nodded once as final confirmation. then, he removed his shoes and slipped into the bed next to you. it was luke, all sweet pear and soft curls and strong heartbeat, and you held on to him in fear that he might slip away.

“always,” he whispered.

during the orientation video you were later shown, you learned that camp half-blood’s motto is keeping young heroes safe (mostly) for over three millennia!  

luke had used that word, too. safe.

chiron told you this was to be your new home as he walked you to the poseidon cabin. he told you that you were safe now, though you noticed how the word almost got caught in his throat. he gave you a sad smile you didn’t quite understand.

you did wonder, at first, if those words were true: this place, a home for you and other children of gods. somewhere safe.

and, well.

you came to understand chiron’s general melancholy a few weeks later, and every week after that. he was used to training and sending heroes off to their potential death, and you would be no different. stolen lightning bolts, deadly quests, cryptic prophecies. a pending war between divine forces you had been entangled with long before you knew. heartache and betrayal and loss beyond measure. 

but, there were other things, too. 

annabeth, fitting in perfectly at the athena cabin, continued being her genius self, leading her team to victory every capture the flag game. she was extra patient in helping you with ancient greek, especially after chiron had given up.

chris rodriguez, luke’s half-brother, would tell you jokes from across the dining pavilion, knowing that you hated sitting alone at the poseidon table. michael yew, son of apollo, taught you how to play guitar at the bonfire one week; you’d ask for more and more lessons until you could start playing on your own. charles beckendorf made you a celestial bronze sword that shone like that burst of light when the sun hits the ocean at sunset. it transformed into a ring that you would never take off, unless in battle. you might not have gotten along with mr. d, but you spent free time picking fresh strawberries with his son, castor. you made matching friendship bracelets with silena beauregard, who was really the only person you confided in, about how you maybe possibly felt something other than friendship when it came to luke. she told you about her crush on clarisse larue, the daughter of ares whom you would always partner with during sparring practice. you taught ethan nakamura, who didn’t have his own cabin as the child of nemesis, how to properly hold a sword. thalia’s tree stood tall at the top of the hill where you almost bled to death, protecting you and everyone inside the magical borders. you, annabeth, and luke would share a picnic there every thursday.

you had been on the run for so long, always looking over your shoulder for monsters, sleeping with one eye open to be one step ahead of death, jumping from one place to the next so quickly to avoid danger.

so, yes. 

it was nice to stay in one place, where you knew you were as safe as demigods could be. it was nice to spend your time learning and training and laughing instead of just surviving. 

it was nice to have a place to call home. and people to call it home with.

now 

the first week passes in the blink of an eye, and it’s like you never left.

tie-dye, volleyball, strawberry picking, kitchen duty, and cabin inspection. 

luke has everyone on a tight schedule — one, you notice, conveniently places the two of you at opposite ends of camp at all times.

still, you catch up with clarisse and the stoll brothers, spend time with annabeth and percy, say hi to pollux and katie gardner and others you vaguely recognize as five years older than what you remember. there are also a lot of faces you don’t recognize at all.

of course, you try not to think about the faces you wished you could see: friends you grew up with and would never have a laugh with again, younger campers you had trained who would never grow up. all lost because of the gods and the titans and a prophecy you never asked to be a part of. 

it’s a side effect of being back here; their ghosts are harder to ignore.

again — trying not to think about it.

anyways.

climbing wall, armory, sword-fighting practice, archery field, and free time on the beach.

to conclude: capture-the-flag, a friday night camp-half blood tradition.

you’re praising annabeth for her latest strategy that led to blue team victory when you notice luke. he was also on the blue team, but instead of celebrating with the rest of you, he’s speaking to someone who’s wearing a red helmet. they seem to be in a heated discussion, one that luke is not wanting to continue. his tells are the same, after all these years: the impatient tapping of his foot, his eyes searching for an out.

you give it to him.

“sorry, i need to borrow this guy.” you say, grabbing luke’s wrist. “camp emergency.” 

if the person said anything, you didn’t hear it, because you were already dragging luke away from the crowd, towards the armory shed. 

“what’s the emergency?” luke wonders, brows furrowed in concern. he has deep shadows under his eyes, too. keeping the ship that is camp half-blood afloat has clearly taken a toll on him. 

“you wanting to get out of that conversation. you’re welcome.” you wink at him; luke flushes, and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s annoyed, or if he's just flustered. “so, are you gonna keep ignoring me the whole summer?”

you put your helmet on one of the shelves and turn back to luke. you expected him to start removing his armor as well, but he doesn’t. he just glares at you, arms crossed over his chest.

so, he’s annoyed, then. 

“what do you expect?” luke hisses. “you can’t come back here and pretend that everything can be like it was when we were kids. things are different now, especially between us.”

you decide to take him up on his challenge. 

“oh? tell me, luke, what exactly is different between us?”

luke shakes his head in disbelief. you remove your chest plate, and that’s when the tattoo on your waist becomes visible. it’s a magnolia, like one of the flowers that bloomed on the tree outside may castellan’s house. 

something in luke softens, then. he sighs. 

“you could have at least given me a warning.”

he storms off, and you’re left half-armored, wondering what he meant by that.

you figure it out once a few of you settle down for a late-night, underground poker game, and you’re trying not to stare at luke’s hands.

it starts with you telling yourself that you’re just trying to predict what cards he’s holding, figure out if he’s bluffing, and if he’s about to lose everything he’d so confidently bet on. 

but then you notice the silver thumb ring that thalia got him for his 17th birthday. you notice an array of hair ties and elastic bands he keeps just in case a camper needs them, and woven bracelets given to him by his admirers. you notice how the tattoo on his wrist is covered. (it’s hidden well, but you know it’s there — you’d gotten one of a wing, the kind that might be found on a pair of magical red converse, at the same time)

you also notice the forest green painted on luke’s nails, the same shade worn by the person beside him.

van, the new head counsellor of the hephaestus cabin. you’d seen them at staff meetings, but you somehow did not notice that they were dating luke. 

he moved on — is that why luke needed a warning? is that what's changed between you?

it’s fine. whatever. so what if luke has a new partner? it’s not like the two of you were anything, officially. 

luke has a new partner. they’re wearing matching nail polish. they’re one of those couples.

well, van is also wearing a nickleback shirt and luke hates nickleback, unless that fundamental part of his personality changed, too. 

“yo, sailor neptune. you in or not?” travis brings you out of your daze, by using a nickname luke once called you.

back before becoming heroes, when you and luke were just kids, you’d watch cartoons in his living room on saturday mornings — x-men, she-ra: princess of power, teenage mutant ninja turtles, sailor moon. a lifetime ago.

you look around the table and see that everyone has been waiting for you to take your turn. even luke raises an eyebrow at you.

“yeah.” you clear your throat and throw some chips into the centre. “i’m in.”

you have decent enough cards to keep you in the game, and you’re comfortable that you can play the odds in your favor. the stoll brothers are good liars, you know that, and so is luke. malcolm pace is good at strategy, but thankfully not as good as his half-sister annabeth. pollux, who had invited you to the game, already folded along with butch, the son of iris who has a rainbow tattoo on his bicep to prove it. beside you, lou ellen, daughter of the hecate, contemplates her next move. clovis has fallen asleep, true to their title as head counsellor of the hypnos cabin. you can’t get a read on van, but they keep raising the stakes so confidently, and you’ve always liked a good challenge.

soon enough, it’s only you and van in the bet. when it comes time to reveal your cards, you curse yourself for overplaying your hand.

“good game,” van says to you as they collect their winnings. “you really had me going there.” 

“yeah.” your smile is strained, but it’s there nonetheless. “tried my best.”

“guess the curse of achilles doesn’t help as much in poker as it does in capture the flag.” 

“excuse me?” you raise an eyebrow.

luke, who had one arm casually draped around van’s chair the entire game, pulls away. “van, maybe don’t —”

“it’s not like it’s a secret, luke. they’re the prophecy kid, everyone knows they bathed in the river styx to be able to fight kronos. it’s camp legend.”

other than you, luke, and van, everyone else is occupied with something else. connor busies himself shuffling the cards, while lou ellen, malcolm, and pollux get up for more drinks. it seems like butch and travis have their own bet going to see who can balance the most chips on clovis’ forehead without waking him up. 

van waits for an answer. you’re a little queasy, and it’s not from the wine pollux managed to snag from his dad’s office. you’re suddenly faced with the reality that your life is reduced to a legend. you try your best to swallow that feeling, of being made into a greek tragic hero while your heart is still beating, and your life is still a mess.

“that’s relevant, why?”

“just that some people might consider the invulnerability thing an unfair advantage in physical competitions like capture the flag,” van explains. “increased strength and all that.” 

“that would mean nothing without a good strategy,” you counter.

“that’s what i said,” luke grumbles. 

you recognize van now as the person luke was arguing with earlier. it must have been about this. 

about you. 

“okay, y’all were best friends, so luke is obviously going to take your side.”

you’re not sure what stings more: friends or were. 

“although, he never really talks about you, which is weird because you’re, like, famous in and outside camp.”

ouch. that definitely stings the most. luke winces slightly, almost like he feels it, too.

“alright, alright,” connor interjects, shuffling the cards in his hands. “another round?” 

you’re the only one who decides to call it a night. everyone says goodbye; even van, who’s blissfully unaware of the effect their words had on you. luke avoids your gaze. the game continues without you.

percy’s snoring provides enough cover as you sneak into your shared cabin. you try to sleep, but it doesn’t come easy. 

you feel the spot underneath your rib, the one spot you’re truly vulnerable, ache.

summer — age 17

for the first time in your life, you couldn’t breathe underwater. you were swimming in acid, and your skin was melting away.

at least, that’s what it felt like to bathe in the river styx. achilles could have mentioned that, but all he gave was a cryptic warning about anchoring yourself to what makes you mortal.

you really tried at first. you thought about your friends at camp. you thought about percy, about your aunt back when she was still around. you even thought about may castellan, burnt cookies and saturday mornings.

the pain was too much, though. 

you were forgetting where you were, who you were. with every passing second, you were dissolving into nothing.

“if you wanted to go for a swim, you should have told me. i would have worn my swimsuit.”

luke’s voice echoed across the waves. you tilted your head up to see him sitting on the dock above you, his feet dangling into the water. he had rolled up his jeans to just above his ankles so they didn’t get wet, but his shoes were still on, which was a bit strange. the sun made his eyes look like burnt amber, his teeth sparkling as he smiled at you. 

okay. cool.

you were at camp. it was mid-afternoon, free period. the two of you had been at the edge of the lake, until you became impatient and jumped in, fully clothed. behind him, you could see that annabeth, thalia, and percy were waiting for you on the shore. they were each wearing orange camp shirts, which was also strange; you couldn’t remember a time when you were all there together, as campers.

“we better go, sailor,” luke said, amusement laced throughout his words. “come on. those cabins aren’t gonna inspect themselves.”

luke extended his hand to you. when you hesitated, he added:

“i can’t do this without you. will you stay with me?”

you reached up and grabbed luke’s hand.

always.

you emerged from the water, catching your breath as you collapsed on the sand. 

“oh gods. are you okay?”

your cousin, nico diangelo, son of hades, knelt down next to you. he tried to check your pulse, but you waved him away. your eyes searched for luke, but he wasn’t there, despite feeling the ghost of his hand in your own. 

oh.

you weren’t at camp; you were in the underworld. it was nico’s idea for you to take on the curse of achilles so that you’d be strong enough to face kronos. 

“did it work?”

you got up, a bit uneasy on your feet at first. nico helped steady you, his hands cold on your skin.

you felt….stronger wasn’t the right word. you felt adrenaline coursing through your veins, like you could swim across the biggest ocean without pausing once. like you could defeat an entire army and not break a sweat. maybe even take down a titan or two while you're at it.

you needed to see luke again, to meet him and the others in manhattan before it was too late.

“let’s hope so.”

now

you always loved mornings at camp half-blood. the beach was particularly beautiful at sunrise, the water peaceful.

the morning after that impromptu poker game, you need that peacefulness to wash over you. you’re awake after a rather sleepless night, deciding to go for a quick run before breakfast. you get dressed and grab your mp3 player, as quietly as you can to avoid waking up percy (who, truthfully, could probably sleep through a hurricane anyways). 

you jog from one end of the beach to the other. you set a steady rhythm, somewhere between the beat of your music and the sound of waves gently washing over the shore. when you make your way back down to where you started, you notice someone sitting nearby.

luke doesn’t say anything when you first sit next to him. he’s wearing a dark blue hoodie over his usual orange shirt, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. you imagine that he confiscated it from a camper on the way here. 

“morning,” he finally whispers, eyes fixed towards the ocean. 

you shiver, and not just from the cool morning air. you’re reminded of the last time luke spoke to you so softly, the last time you’d caught an early morning sunrise together. such a contrast to where you are now.

“morning,” you finally reply. 

as the sound of waves fills the silence between you, luke surprises you by taking a lighter out of his pocket. he lights the cigarette and takes a puff. then, he hands it to you. 

it’s such an odd, though not unwelcomed, gesture. a peace offering, you figure, but it’s just so not luke that you can’t help yourself.

“is golden boy luke castellan, offering me contraband? what planet am i on?”

the hint of a smile creeps onto his face. “like i said: things are different now,” he echoes his words from the night before, but this time you don’t sense any hostility.

you take a drag of the cigarette. your fingers brush against his when you return it to him.

you decide to offer a peace offering as well, and present to him one of your earbuds — he accepts. you have to slide across the sand to move closer to him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

i’m feelin’ rough, i’m feeling raw / i’m in the prime of my life….

as the song plays, you glance to see luke nodding along, tapping a finger on his knee to the beat. he lets the cigarette smoulder in his other hand.

we’re fated to pretend / to pretend / yeah, yeah, yeah….

when the song is over, luke turns to you. 

“new group?” he brings the cigarette to his lips, then gives it back to you.

“kinda.” you inhale, letting the smoke warm your lungs before explaining. “this is considered they’re breakthrough album. they’re from connecticut, actually.”

“oh, yeah? guess that’s where all the talent is from.”

luke bumps his shoulder against yours knowingly. you feel your cheeks heat up at his praise, his witty sincerity.

this is familiar — you and luke, at the beach, sharing music. it’s familiar, and for a few moments, you can act like there isn’t a wall between you, of unresolved feelings and harsh words. you can pretend that nothing has changed.

“you know, nickleback are from connecticut, too. which means you just called them talented.”

luke coughs on some smoke as he exhales with a laugh. “what? no i didn’t!”

“in a roundabout way. i always knew you were an undercover fan,” you tease.

“i have better taste than that.”

“do you?”

“you’re fucking with me,” luke deadpans.

you crack a smile. “yeah, i’m fucking with you.”

“gods, you scared me for a second,” he laughs, and you can’t help but follow. luke glances at you and the sunshine highlights his smile, his dark brown curls, the ever-changing color of his eyes. golden, radiant. 

you shiver again, looking away. before you know it, you feel something draped across your shoulders.

“i’m not sure van would like it if i was wearing your hoodie.” you joke, but your words are laced with a bitterness you hope luke doesn’t catch. unlucky for you, luke still knows you too well, whether he likes it or not.

“you don’t get to do that.”

“do what?”

luke scoffs. “be jealous.” 

“well, you don’t get to tell me how to feel.”

“so, you are jealous?”

you exhale sharply; you can practically feel the wall between you two reappear.

“it’s too early, lu. and i’m too hungover to deal with this.”

there’s nothing more left to say. you get up, throw his hoodie on the sand, and walk back towards your cabin, the beach and luke further away with every step you take.

it makes sense that way: you were always the one to leave first.

[forlix]

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 !・h.h.

— you’re just trying to do your job; your client has other ideas.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・1.3k 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・very suggestive so mdni, reader implied to be shorter than hyunjin 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・fluff, flirting, humor, big fwb vibes

𝐚/𝐧・this took me less than half an hour to write i am actually the biggest sucker for this trope. also, we hit another milestone recently!! i appreciate all of you immensely; look forward to more ♡

[!]・hi hey hello as of one month later a full-length fic based on this au has been posted!! here it is; you can read the two in any order. ok bye much love

“Five ‘til!” A crew member calls into a walkie-talkie, and you’re so surprised by this information that you stumble right over him, your heel ungracefully ramming into the poor man’s toes. 

You apologize hurriedly, bowing yourself out of the awkward situation—and then you check your watch. 7:55 P.M. A quiet "shit" leaves your lips as it dawns on you that you'd completely lost track of time.

Briefly, you contemplate your predicament, drumming the palette of makeup you’re holding in your right hand against the palm of your left: do I have to? Is it really necessary? But you know your answer even as you’re asking yourself the questions. You’re damn meticulous—sometimes to a fault, but always to your own satisfaction.

You had a vision, and you’re going to see it through.

With impeccable timing, your coworker appears out of nowhere, and you fasten a hand around her arm. “Hey, where are the members again?”

“Stage left.” Then she registers your question in full, and snaps her eyes to your face; stylists were supposed to have finished up with their respective members nearly an hour ago. “Hang on, are you out of your mind—”

“I won’t be a minute!” You call, scurrying away.

“You won’t be employed!” She returns, but you’ve already disappeared into the curtains’ dense shadows.

You jog a short distance, turn a few corners, and finally spot the eight members clad in outfits of varying amounts of silver and black, every inch of them so sparkly that they’re reflective, even with how little light reaches this part of the stage.

You’re looking for one man in particular, though, and you single him out right away: long, black locks falling into his eyes as he adjusts his microphone, broad shoulders and tall frame flattered perfectly by an obsidian suit, looking like he fell off a Paris Fashion Week runway and into a wormhole that teleported him to Osaka.

All your doing, by the way.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” You shout, and he (along with several of the other members) whips around at the sound. And Hyunjin furrows a perfect brow when his stylist materializes before him, four minutes to curtain up, wielding a palette of makeup like it’s a baseball bat.

“Are you out of your mind?” He calls.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You lift a pointer finger into the air and curl it twice. “Come here. Hurry."

Hyunjin gives the others an apologetic glance before hurrying over, and you are met with a blast of Byredo Blanche when he arrives in front of you, the expression on his face equal parts amused and confused.

“Down,” you say, flicking open the eyeshadow palette with one hand.

And then Hyunjin understands. A loud, uninhibited laugh leaves his lips, a sound you’ve become so accustomed to by now that you’re completely oblivious to the fact that only you bring it out of him.

“You really are something,” he says, spreading his feet apart until he’s brought himself to your eye level.

With that, you get to work, one hand gathering some eyeshadow on the pads of your fingers, the other moving to hold his shoulder. Brushes are luxuries you can’t afford right now.

“Close your eyes,” you direct, your voice softer now that your face is only inches away from his, and Hyunjin heeds your words obediently. You begin to dab the crimson powder against the curve of his lids, careful to avoid messing up the rest of his eye makeup. His lashes flutter involuntarily at your gentle touch.

“A shadow to match the lip,” you murmur absently. “I pictured it and knew it had to happen."

Hyunjin makes a sound of approval, and then there is that smirk on his face, the one you’ve learned only means trouble. “You’ve been thinking about my face the whole night, then?”

“No. I’ve been thinking about whether vegetables can feel pain,” you deadpan. “Yes, I've been thinking about your face. It’s my job.”

“Is that all?”

“Sure is.” You blow gently on his finished eye and move on to the other. “Now save your voice for the stage.”

He obliges, but that dreadful, self-assured expression remains on his face, and you're immeasurably grateful that he can’t see the blush that you’re well aware paints your cheeks.

“Done,” you say a minute later, straightening with a confident flourish. And you think you could squeal when Hyunjin opens his eyes, and you see that the exact effect you’d hoped for has been realized: a splash of maroon that is both subtle and seductive, sleek and suave; that not only accentuates the shape of his eyes but pulls attention to his lips, which are dyed a similar hue. Damn, you’re good at your job.

“I don’t have a mirror,” you say, looking around. “I can use my phone if you want to—”

“It’s fine,” he says. “I trust you.”

You grin at this. “Good. Because you look sexy as hell."

Upon hearing your words, he straightens to his full height. You don’t think much of this at first, too busy re-examining the masterpiece you’ve created on his eyelids, but in the blink of an eye you’re suddenly aware that Hyunjin is standing conspicuously and intentionally close to you. You instinctively move away, but you’re too late; he’s already guiding your back to the wall behind you, his body enclosing yours against the smooth surface.

You send a panicked look over Hyunjin’s shoulder, only to realize that the two of you are completely out of anyone’s line of vision. That doesn’t stop the sharp hiss that leaves your lips: “Hyunjin, are you cr—”

But then there is a familiar gust of breath against your skin, a thumb over your cheekbone.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself when you get like this; all bossy and concentrated, an ambitious glint in your eyes, an air of confidence in your gait. He always thinks it’s ironic that your job is to make him look good when all he’s ever done is admire your beauty, so effortless and profuse that it feels timeless, like freshly bloomed forget-me-nots.

He knows he shouldn’t—but that makes him want to more.

When your lips meet, they move together with an ease and familiarity that reveal how many times you’ve done this before. He brings a hand to the small of your back, and you tangle your stained fingers in his luscious hair, the delicious pressure of his mouth upon yours rendering your reluctance (and the eyeshadow palette, which clatters noisily to the floor) momentarily forgotten.

As the kiss deepens, the bridges of your noses slide together; your every sense becomes overwhelmed by the slippery plush of his full lips and the warm caress of his large hands; you drink in the rosy musk of his cologne like your cells need it to live as opposed to oxygen. The tip of Hyunjin’s tongue teases the seam of your lips, as if requesting access, and you grant it to him with a light moan that is both blissful and thoroughly exasperated. When he hears the gorgeous sound, he has half a mind to scoop you up and leave the venue then and there.

Then, a voice bellows from not too far away: “One minute, everyone! Places, places!”

You’re so startled that you not only break away from him but jump a meter into the air, giving Hyunjin’s bicep a hearty slap on your way down. But he is entirely unbothered, dipping his head to press a trail of light kisses along your jaw instead.

“You’ll be watching the performance, yes?” He murmurs against the sensitive skin.

“Of course, what else—”

“—don’t take your eyes off me.”

And the words throw your heart against your ribs like uncooked French fries in a vat of oil.

He is just about to walk away when you realize how decidedly disheveled you’ve left him, and you yank him back to you with a fresh wave of panic. You wipe at his smudged lipstick with the cuffs of your sleeves; nitpick his hair until every strand is back in its proper place. Only when you’ve gotten rid of all the incriminating evidence do you permit him to leave.

“Thank you very much,” he says, bending into a gracious bow, the perfect image of professionalism. The facade is given away only by the upturned corner of his still-flushed lips.

“Break a leg,” you return drily.

The last thing you hear is that stupid, bright laugh before Hyunjin rejoins his members, and they step into the strobe lights together.

Even when the concert begins and the stadium is drowned in fanatical screams, the heartbeat in your ears remains the loudest sound of all—and you bury your burning face in your hands.

Hwang Hyunjin will be the death of you.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[bookyeom]

pairing: Jeonghan x reader word count: 4.7k warnings: kissing, a swear or two, Jeonghan is wet and yes that's a warning, long-haired Jeonghan which is also a very serious warning

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.

nonsense by sabrina carpenter

i'll be honest looking at you got me thinking nonsense cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in i can’t find my chill, i must have lost it i don't even know, i'm talking nonsense

Yoon Jeonghan comes into your life with the same chaos and tumult of the heavy rain that’s pounding down against your window.

It’s during the middle of an October storm when he shows up at your door. There are loud knocks reverberating throughout your apartment, and you can hear a man calling out for someone named Soonyoung to just ‘let him in already’. It’s followed by more unintelligible mumbles, though you think you can make out the words ‘rain’ and ‘soaking wet’ — you think there might be a few curse words thrown in there, too. Honestly, you’d have ignored the guy if he didn’t sound so… defeated. But you feel bad, so you open the door.

And lock eyes with one of the most gorgeous men you’ve ever seen. 

Well, you think to yourself, damn. 

You watch as the man in front of you stops mid-sentence and mid-knock, hand hanging in the air between the two of you for a moment. You take a moment to note the long, dark hair that falls just below his ears, the ends of it dripping rainwater onto his black leather jacket; the dark eyes, framed by some of the most beautiful eyelashes you’ve ever seen. He blinks, a single droplet fluttering down onto his flushed cheek as he does. Then he drops his hand and straightens, wet hair clinging to his forehead — and he smiles. 

“You’re not Soonyoung.”

His words surprise you. The guy standing in front of you is definitely not who you had been expecting, either. He’s gorgeous, rain-soaked and all. You’re certain that you’ve never seen him around here before, because you would definitely remember if you had. 

“No, I’m not,” you affirm. You point over his shoulder to the door across the hall. “Soonyoung’s over there.” 

“Ah,” he says slowly, smile turning sheepish, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He winces as soon as his fingers slide into the wet material, as if suddenly remembering the predicament he’s in, and you stifle a laugh. “I’m Jeonghan,” he adds, and you can tell that he’s attempting to play it cool despite how obviously displeased he is with the current events.

Jeonghan. A pretty name for a pretty guy, you think. 

“Hi, Jeonghan.”

His smile grows, and yours does too. “I’m one of Soonyoung’s friends,” he explains. “He forgot to give me the code for the door downstairs, and he wasn’t answering his buzzer...” He glances down at himself, soaked to the bone, and the smile falls from his lips. You can’t help it — you let out the giggle you’ve been suppressing. His gaze finds yours again at the sound, eyebrows raising, and you bite your lip. 

“Sorry,” you offer, semi-apologetic, though you’re still biting back a grin. “That sucks.”

“Thanks so much,” he returns, and you can hear the sarcasm in his voice. You hold up your hands in surrender, and then he’s smiling at you again, and — holy shit, he’s pretty. 

Neither of you move, and it’s your turn to raise your eyebrows. Jeonghan seems to snap out of it, lifting a hand to run through his hair, and you’re almost embarrassed at the way you ogle him while he does. He doesn’t seem to notice, thank god. You’ve never met this man before, but something tells you he’d be awfully smug if he knew. You don’t look like that and not know it.

“I just moved into an apartment down the street,” he continues, “so I’ll be at Soonyoung’s more often.” He pauses, and then he smiles at you again — like he’s got a secret that you don’t get to know. “I’ll see you around?”

“Sure. See you later, Jeonghan.”

You don’t think too much about Jeonghan over the next couple of days. Work is busier than usual, so you get home late every day, exhausted — and you spend far too much money on takeout food. But today is finally Friday, so you treat yourself to an XL pizza with zero regrets. You’ll start making your own meals again tomorrow. 

You’re lounging on your couch, only half paying attention to the series playing on your TV screen, when you hear a knock on your door that shakes you out of your exhausted daze. Your eyebrows furrow. Usually, you’d have to let the delivery person in with your buzzer, but you suppose someone might have let them in the building. 

You grab your wallet, flipping it open to take out your debit card. When you open your door, you freeze in your tracks, because it’s not the pizza delivery guy who stands on the other side. It’s Jeonghan. 

Your eyes take him in, head to toe, and you can’t even be ashamed about it. You don’t think you could look away if you tried. He looks different today — more put-together. A lot drier. Just as devastatingly beautiful, though. You’d nearly forgotten. 

“Hi,” he breathes. 

“Hi,” you echo. 

Then he does the thing that hooked you the first time you’d met — he smiles. He doesn’t say anything else until you raise your eyebrows, and he seems to realize that it’s his turn to speak again.

“What are you paying me for?”

You blink. Then you remember you’re clutching your bank card in your hand, and you let out an awkward laugh. “Thought you were the delivery guy.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he teases. 

“I forgive you.”

Jeonghan’s smile widens, and you wait for him to continue. “I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about last week,” he says, and you watch as he bites his lip with a sheepish smile. “Not a great first impression.”

You hum. “True. You’re lucky I even opened the door that night, what with how crazy you sounded and all.” 

You’re teasing, but he’s unflinching as he holds your gaze and responds, “Yeah, I am lucky.”

You manage to keep your cool as you cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe, but you’d be lying if you said his blatant flirtation isn’t working on you. “Well, you’re extra lucky I opened the door again today.”

He breaks out into a grin. “Like I said… I know.”

You don’t even attempt to smile back — it just happens, involuntarily. God, he’s cute. 

You wait again for him to say something. He doesn’t. He just looks at you, and you start to feel a bit warm under his gaze. “Was there anything else?” You finally say. “I hope you didn’t forget where Soonyoung lives again.”

“Oh.” Jeonghan blinks, shaking his head. “No. I just… didn’t get your name last time.”

He seems to immediately regret how quickly he’s said the words, and you can’t believe how absolutely endeared you are by it all. Something tells you that the man in front of you is usually better at this. It makes you flush, makes you feel far too giddy, to realize that you seem to be the reason he’s flustered. 

“Y/N,” you offer, and Jeonghan’s smile returns. 

“Y/N,” he repeats. “Nice to meet you… Again.”

When he excuses himself towards Soonyoung’s and you close the door behind you, you don’t even try to tamper down the grin that’s on your face.

The next week, it takes everything in you not to think about Jeonghan.

It’s Wednesday morning when you run into Soonyoung in the lobby by the post boxes. He looks like he’s just come from the gym, Nike bag slung over one shoulder as he flashes you a smile, lifting one hand in an excited wave. 

“Hey, Y/N!”

“Hey,” you greet. 

"How are you?"

His energy is contagious, and you can already feel your morning getting brighter just at the sight of him.

"I'm doing good, Soonyoung, thanks. How are you?"

"I'm great!" He turns to leave with another hearty wave, free hand now full of mail, and you wave back. You’re startled when you hear his footsteps come to an abrupt halt. He calls your name again, and you turn to him in surprise.

“Are you busy Friday night?” 

Your eyes widen. “Me?”

Soonyoung giggles, nose scrunching up as he does. “No, the mailbox.”

You blush. “Right. I don’t think so, why?”

“I’m having a little gathering with some of my friends,” he tells you. “If you’re home, I’d love for you to come!”

You’re caught off guard — and terribly, terribly pleased. You’ve always liked Soonyoung’s energy, and you’re honestly surprised you haven’t hung out with him before. Plus, your mind supplies unhelpfully, Jeonghan might be there.

“That sounds fun,” you say, brushing the thought aside, and Soonyoung beams.

“Cool! People are coming around 8:00.” He grins. “You know where to find me.”

On Friday, you cross the hall to Soonyoung’s just after 8:30pm. You were hoping Jeonghan would be there by now – because you don’t know any of Soonyoung’s other friends, is what you tell yourself – but he isn’t. Soonyoung greets you with a hug and a beaming smile, and he quickly pulls you into his apartment and introduces you to his other friends.

It’s easy, you realize, to talk to them. You manage to entrench yourself deep into a conversation about the best ways to cook potatoes with his friend Mingyu, but your eyes still keep flickering to the front door against your will. It’s just after 9:00 when Jeonghan finally arrives.

You try to play it cool when your eyes meet, as if you haven’t been holding your breath waiting for him to arrive, your hand lifting to send him a small wave before you turn back to your conversation with Mingyu. You can feel Jeonghan’s eyes still on you, though, and it takes every effort you have in you to ignore the pull of his gaze.

You’re surprised when Soonyoung plops down next to you, leaning forward to slap Mingyu’s knee. The younger man lets out a whine, but Soonyoung simply grins. Mingyu doesn’t retaliate with anything more than a pout, even though he could easily win against Soonyoung in a fistfight. It makes you smile, how much they seem to genuinely like each other. 

“Y/N!” Soonyoung suddenly turns to you, and you startle.  

“Soonyoung!” You say back, and you hear Mingyu snicker from his spot across from you.

“You’re so cool,” Soonyoung gushes, and you can tell he’s a few drinks deep, but it makes you smile anyway. You’re about to thank him when he continues, “I’m so glad Jeonghan suggested inviting you. I don’t know why I never have before! You’re super cool.”

You ignore the way your face flushes, and Soonyoung is thankfully too excited to notice. 

“Thanks, Soonyoung. I’m glad to be here,” you say honestly, and you’re greeted with that blinding smile again in return. You’ve always thought that your neighbour was cute, and you’re quickly discovering that his personality absolutely matches your initial assessment.

As Soonyoung turns back to Mingyu and the two of them fall into an animated conversation, your eyes wander across the room, Soonyoung’s previous words replaying in your mind. 

Jeonghan suggested inviting you.

Your eyes quickly find the man in question. He’s leaning against the wall by the window now as he chats to his other friends. You watch him for a moment, a smile on your lips, and he must feel your gaze on him because he turns, soft brown eyes meeting yours. You don’t look away this time, arching an eyebrow at him, and he easily returns the gesture. It makes you smile even more.

You excuse yourself from Soonyoung and Mingyu, heading into the kitchen. You’ve just found where Soonyoung keeps his glasses and are filling one up with water from the tap when you hear someone enter the room behind you.

“Hey, 213.”

You try to be nonchalant when you turn, your eyebrows raised as you lift the glass to your lips. “I gave you my name… and for what?”

The smile on Jeonghan’s mouth grows. It really is quite something, the power that smile holds. “I’m so sorry,” he teases. “Hi, Y/N.” 

The sound of your name coming from his mouth sounds even better today. “Hi, Jeonghan.”

He leans against the counter, hands sliding into his pockets. “Did you have a good week?”

“I did,” you say honestly. “It was a lot less busy than last week — which was nuts. I had like eight projects due and…” You trail off, cheeks flushing as you realize you’d begun to ramble. So much for keeping your cool. What is it about this guy that lowers all your defenses? You’ve only met him twice before tonight.

You can’t help it, though. You want to know more — you want to know everything about him. And what’s even scarier is that you think you might want him to know everything about you, too.

“I’m glad,” is all he says, and you feel the sudden need to take another sip of water, averting your eyes. 

“What about you?” 

He hums. “Mine was good, too.” You can feel him looking at you, not saying anything until you meet his eyes again, and then he says, “It’s even better now.”

You don’t have a chance to answer before a commotion sounds through the apartment, and the both of you jump. You follow Jeonghan back out into the living room, where you find two new faces at the door. The man beside you amusedly informs you that the newcomers are Seokmin and Seungkwan, or in other words, the two that encourage — and even join in on — all of Soonyoung’s bad ideas. The commotion you’d heard had been the result of a tipsy Soonyoung seeing his partners in crime and loudly cheering.

The moment with Jeonghan is lost as the two of you rejoin the party, but it's all you think about for the rest of the evening. 

As the night goes on, you find that you really like Soonyoung’s friends. But after just one glass of wine and the clock passing 11:00pm, you can feel your energy draining. You’re pretty sure Soonyoung himself is asleep in the armchair. You wait for Seungkwan to finish telling his story before you announce your plans to excuse yourself. The news is met with a chorus of awws and boos, but you know they’re only teasing. You can’t help but laugh at their antics, bidding your goodbyes as you stand and head for the door.

“I’ll walk you home.”

You turn as Jeonghan speaks from behind you, ready to tease him because really? but he’s prepared for it, already grinning blindingly over at you before you can make a retort. You wonder how old he was when he learned the power of disarmament that his smile holds. 

He opens the door and gestures for you to leave first, and you concede. You take the four steps out into the hall and across to your own apartment door, Jeonghan trailing behind you. As you pull out and insert your key, you glance at him and you say, “Thanks for asking Soonyoung to invite me.”

You see Jeonghan’s eyes flash in surprise, but he’s quick to mask it. “No problem,” he responds, a hand lifting to scratch the side of his jaw. He offers you a shy smile and you jokingly roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, too.

“Was it too hard to invite me yourself, or what?”

Jeonghan leans against the wall. If he’s phased by your bluntness, it doesn’t show. “I didn’t have any way to contact you.”

“‘Didn’t’, past tense?” Your door unlocks, and you gently push it open with one hand. “Why, do you have a way to contact me now?”

You’re teasing him, and you know he knows it. But all he does is smile, pushing off the wall as he fishes his phone out of his pocket and holds it out for you to take. 

“You tell me.”

You almost want to pretend to debate his proposal, but his eyes are so sincere as he waits that you just can’t tease him. You knew from the second he took out his phone that you were going to give him your number, so what’s the point in pretending? 

Wordlessly, you take his phone and enter your information, trying to ignore the way you can feel him watching you. You hand it back to him without a word, contact info saved, and offer him a soft ‘goodnight’ before you slip into your apartment.

Unknown Number [11:21pm]: hi :)

Y/N [11:23pm]: who’s this? ;)

Jeonghan [11:24pm]: oh sorry, do i have the wrong number? 

Jeonghan [11:24pm]: I’ll go

You bite your lip, clutching a pillow to your chest as you debate your answer. You’re feeling so giddy, so shy — you even kick your feet a little. You think for a minute, debating whether or not to just go for it. You do.

Y/N [11:26pm]: please don’t

You expect him to tease you for giving in so easily. He doesn’t.

Jeonghan [11:27pm]: :)

Jeonghan (11:27pm]: hi, y/n

To your pleasant surprise, you end up spending more and more time across the hallway at Soonyoung’s over the next few weeks. He texts you the morning after his party and apologizes for how drunk he had gotten, and an hour later, you show up at his door with cookies and two bottles of purple Gatorade. The rest is history. 

You really like Soonyoung. He’s hilarious, and kind, and a little bit out there in all the best of ways. He appreciates your cooking, and you appreciate his taste in takeout food. He tolerates your rom coms and you tolerate his poor taste in TV sitcoms. You’re grateful to have made a new friend, and you like spending time with him. 

It doesn’t hurt that Jeonghan stops by a couple of times, too. And every time, you willfully ignore the smug looks Soonyoung sends your way.

It’s been over a month since you met Jeonghan. You text almost every day, and you’ve seen him at Soonyoung’s almost every week since you met. He makes you laugh, he texts you good night, and you’ve caught him looking at you on more than one occasion. And yet — he hasn’t made a single move. 

You think that maybe you should be the one to do it, but you’re unsure. You know he’s flirting with you — you’re not stupid — and you know he’s not shy about any of it. He has to know you’re flirting with him, too, because you’ve never been more obvious about anything in your life, ever. You usually have no qualms about being the one to make a move first, but in these weeks getting to know Jeonghan, you’ve learned some things.

One: Jeonghan has your favourite smile in the world.

Two: He’s confident, and loves to tease.

Three: He’s actually a giant softie.

You see his softness in so many ways. You see it in the way he remembers everything about his friends, from allergies to favourite colours; in the way he brought salt when he came over last week because he remembered Soonyoung ran out; in the way he pretends to complain but then watches his friend’s antics with the fondest of smiles. 

And you wonder if maybe he’s as afraid of this new thing between you as you are.

So you’re giving him time. 

But on nights like tonight, when Soonyoung purposefully moves to the armchair when Jeonghan arrives so that he can join you on the couch, when Jeonghan’s knee is pressed to yours and his arm is on the back of the couch, when you catch him staring during the movie and he doesn’t look away — you think you might snap if he doesn’t do something soon.

“I swear I’ve never seen Jeonghan this much in all the years I’ve known him,” Soonyoung comments out of the blue one Thursday evening.

It takes you a second to process what he’s said, your head lifting from your laptop to look at him. “Oh.” You blink. “Because he lives closer now, you mean?”

Soonyoung simply scoffs, and you distinctly feel like you’re missing something. He gives you a pointed look. “We used to be roommates in uni, and I didn’t even see him this much then.” You nod slowly, and Soonyoung rolls his eyes. He rolls his eyes. “He’s obviously around more lately because of you, Y/N.”

The flush spreads all the way from your head to your toes. The idea of it makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and you hide your face behind your laptop again. “Shut up, Soonyoung.”

“Are you going to tell me you didn’t notice?”

You pause, staring at your screen but not really seeing it. “I did notice,” you finally say softly. “But…”

“But what? Don’t pretend you’re not just as down bad for him.”

You bite down on your lower lip, but you don’t deny it. “He hasn’t said anything, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung doesn’t look at you as he casually says, “Yeah, well, that’s because Jeonghan’s a dumbass.”

You snort but don’t respond, and the conversation is left at that.

Jeonghan [2:45pm]: what are you upto?

Y/N [2:48pm]: trying not to murder my new bookshelf before I even get it put up 

Y/N [2:48pm]: you?

Jeonghan [2:50pm]: haha oh no

Jeonghan [2:53pm]: i have to stop by Soonyoung’s on my way home 

Jeonghan [2:53pm]: do you want some help? 

Jeonghan, it turns out, isn’t much help at all. 

“You’re worse than me!”

You can’t stop laughing as Jeonghan stands there helplessly, both of you watching the bookshelf crumble for the third time in an hour. As the last piece hits the floor, he turns to pout at you. 

“Let’s give up for now,” you offer, and you try to hold back your giggle at the indignant look on his face. You can’t.

Jeonghan groans as you dissolve into another fit of laughter. He collapses down onto the couch next to you, his head falling back. His hair has gotten a bit longer recently since he’s started letting it grow out, and your eyes can’t help but watch the way the dark strands fall over the back of your sofa. You suppress a shiver as you picture running your fingers through it, before shaking yourself out of it. 

“Why did you volunteer to help if you’re this bad at it?” You tease him one more time, and he opens one eye to glare at you.

“I didn’t think it could be that much harder than Lego.” His voice is small when he says it, obviously embarrassed, and you try — you really try — not to laugh at him. It’s futile. 

“Lego?” You repeat, and then you’re breaking into a fit of giggles again.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I have a sick Lego collection at my place.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Inviting yourself over so soon?”

You ignore the flutter in your tummy and opt for rolling your eyes as a response. “You’re literally in my apartment right now, Jeonghan.”

He holds your gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting as he stares at you, and the butterflies take full flight, unable to stop that silly little feeling from settling deep in the pit of your stomach. “I am,” he hums. He breaks your gaze only to lift his head and glance around the living room, before his eyes settle on you again and he says, “I like it. It’s very… you.”

“Very me?” You question, amused, leaning your elbow on the back of the couch and resting your head on it. “How so?”

“You know,” Jeonghan gestures vaguely, “cozy, warm…” He smiles, and you’re so aware of just how close he is when he shifts to imitate your pose and finishes, “and, you know, beautiful.”

Your breath catches in spite of yourself. He flirts with you, you know this, but he’s never said anything outright like that before. His eyes begin to travel across your face, lazy and slow, the corner of his mouth lifting the longer he looks at you. His gaze lingers on your mouth, and yours lingers on his, and –

“Didn’t you say you have to stop at Soonyoung’s for something?” 

You have absolutely no clue why you decided to whisper that right now. Jeonghan pulls back a little, slow and blinking. You wince when he looks away from you.

“Oh,” he says, “yeah. Right.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I guess I should… go.” 

You try to meet his eyes, but in a moment of shyness that is so very un-Jeonghan, he refuses to look at you as he stands up. You want to beat yourself up for saying anything – you’d meant to tease him a little, not kick him out.

“Jeonghan,” you say, and he stops making his way to the front door. He still doesn’t look at you, though, and you force your next words to come out strong. “The next time you want to see me, you can just ask. You don’t have to use Soonyoung as an excuse.” 

He looks at you now, eyes lifting from the floor, and you’re so relieved that you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

“I don’t?”

“No,” you shake your head, “because I want to see you, too.”

“You… do?”

You’ve never seen him like this. He seems uncertain, unsure, and you feel horrible for trying to tease him when you’re certain he’d been about to make a move. “Yes.” You nod, taking a step towards him. “Jeonghan?”

“Yeah?” His gaze is unwavering on you now.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?” 

“I think you were going to kiss me just now, and I opened my big mouth instead of just letting you do it.” 

Jeonghan’s cheeks flush pink, and you can tell it’s taking everything in him not to turn away from you. He’s embarrassed, which you’ve never seen in the weeks that you’ve known him, and it suddenly dawns on you that he probably thinks you didn’t want to kiss him. Your heart drops into your toes.

“Please kiss me, Jeonghan.”

Desperation is all you can hear as you say the words, and it would be your turn to be embarrassed if you didn’t want it so badly. Want him so badly. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, his eyebrows furrowed as he tries to process. You’ve never seen him this speechless, either. It’s a day of firsts.

“Please.”

Your final word comes out in a plea, a near beg – another first. You don’t care. You can’t think about anything else. 

He closes the gap before you can so much as breathe another word, hands flying to your jaw as he presses his mouth to yours, fiercer than anything you could have ever dreamed of. Your hands grasp onto his hoodie as you gasp, stumbling a little, but he doesn’t let you get very far. And then you’re kissing him back, pulling him into you as close as he can go, closer, closer — and then even closer still. The way his mouth opens against yours, the way he moves as he kisses you stupid, has your knees nearly buckling underneath you.

It’s him that breaks away first. You’re breathless, and so is he, and neither of you says anything for a minute. 

“You wanted me to do that?”

You pull away to look up at him, his hands still on your face. “Only since the first day I met you, you dumbass.”

“You…”

“Yeah.”

His hands drop from your face before he pulls you with him to sit back on the couch. Your heart is racing as you wait for him to speak. 

“You like me?”

“With all due respect,” you say incredulously, “you’re literally so fucking stupid.”

Jeonghan pouts. “I thought…” He runs a hand through his hair, and you resist the urge to do it for him. “I thought you and Soonyoung…”

Your jaw drops. “Me and Soonyoung?!”

“You’re always together! And you always talk about how cute he is –”

“He is cute, Jeonghan. But I definitely haven’t been waiting for him to make out with me.”

Jeonghan groans, and he’s blushing again. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t know if Soonyoung was into you, or if you were into him, because you guys get along so well, and he makes you laugh so much, and…” He shrugs. “I didn’t want to interfere if there was something going on there.” 

“Jeonghan,” you say slowly. “Did you ever just… I don’t know, ask Soonyoung if he likes me?”

Jeonghan blinks for a moment. 

“Also – do you not think you and I get along well?” You’re teasing him now, and you watch as the realization dawns on him. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and you’re amazed yet again at the way you somehow manage to render him as bashful as this. 

You reach for his hand, tugging him closer, and he comes willingly. You lift a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear as you say, “You can make it up to me somehow, I’m sure.”

You’re pleased when he seems to take that as a challenge.

A/N: Finally a Hannie one! Thanks for waiting xx

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[kitten4sannie]

ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍ

ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴘʟᴀʏ/ꜰʟᴏɢɢɪɴɢ ➠ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ/ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ

pairing: enemy emperor! yunho x empress! reader x scribe! yeosang

genre: historical au, smut

summary: you have another tension filled meeting with the stubborn man that wants nothing more than to conquer and own you. your new dedicated scribe records everything.

w.c: 4k

warnings: hard dom! yunho, bratty pillow princess! reader, bricked up witness! yeosang, monster cock alerttt, cnc, light mxm, exhibitionism/voyeurism, name calling/pet names, degradation, dirty talk (this man…he’s so nasty in this i’m not even sorry…), lots of manhandling, spanking/flogging, dacryphilia, half dressed kink idk, spit, hair grabbing, threesome elements, some cucky vibes, a little dash of praise, rough wall sex, creampie, yeosang licks everything up… AHEM, oral (receiving), fingering, cum eating, squirting

a/n: i was extremely high when i wrote this and i am down bad astronomically for yuyu and yeosang so yeah something religious happened to me during the writing process !! i mostly blame it on jackson wang bc that song is sooooo…. rfhhehwh it turns me into a rabid animal ngl anywaysss i hope you enjoy lovelies xx

Now Playing:

ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ʙʏ ᴊᴀᴄᴋꜱᴏɴ ᴡᴀɴɢ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

As the empress of your country’s land, it’s always been up to you to partake in the anointed trivialities that required your royal attention. Aside from drawn out, traditional ceremonies to endless horse riding and archery lessons with a seasoned member of the congregation, you spent most of your time having meetings with your supposed suitors, having to listen to their boundless, self-important monologues about their days in battle, coming to know just how much knowledge they held in combat and war strategies, and fighting the urge to pull your hand away when they would hold onto it, pleading you with their eyes for your approval. It all bored you to tears. 

Though, there was a particular individual that you couldn’t seem to keep your mind off of, no matter how hard you tried. Jeong Yunho, an emperor from the land that bordered yours. A man from a bloodline that your family had gone to war with many times over the years. Despite that you were quite literally sleeping with the enemy, you couldn’t help yourself. You had never met anyone like him before. Instead of asking and pleading for your attention, time, and body, he simply took it. Took what he wanted from you without a care in the world. He wasn’t even bothered by that fact that your dear scribe still sat in the meeting room with you, hazily scribbling down everything that occurred and what was said, spilling bottles of ink onto his scrolls due to how flustered he was from witnessing the way Yunho forcefully conquered his dear empress with a domineering smirk plastered on his sweaty face, the panting emperor’s cock routinely disappearing underneath your disheveled ceremony garments and into your willing cunt. 

“Your Highness, Lord Jeong should be here any second now,” your fresh-faced scribe began from across the meeting room, setting up various sized brushes in a line, smoothing out a few creases he found embedded in the elongated sleeves of his ceremony robe. He suddenly looked up at you, concern present within his widened honey brown eyes. “Should I make more tea?” 

“That won’t be necessary, Yeosang, but your intention is very sweet, thank you,” you replied softly, making your way across the room in your heavy garbs, taking the time to run your fingers through your newest scribe’s hair, offering him a smile that made him drop one of his brushes. “Lord Jeong doesn’t drink much tea. He…prefers to get straight to business.” 

Yeosang’s smile dropped slightly when your hand left his hair, his eyes traveling your form as you sat on your knees in front of the meeting table, watching you take a sip from your steaming celadon cup and nod your head in approval of the flavor. “Have you considered his marriage requests? I’ve read some of the letters he’s sent to you…” The young scribe blushed suddenly, his eyes lowering to look at the blank spaces on his scrolls. “They’re quite intense. Does that sort of thing interest you?” 

You rested your chin inside the palm of your hand, your gold bracelets dangling from your wrist, squinting your eyes at Yeosang, your lips curling up ever so slightly. “It does, very much so. Lord Jeong is one of the most interesting men I’ve come across thus far…I’ve greatly considered his offers, despite him being the enemy.” 

Yeosang tilted his head, a few locks of his hair falling into his focused eyes. “If I may ask, your Highness…What’s stopping you from accepting?” 

You ran your finger around the rim of your celadon cup, looking at your reflection within the black tea, your smile fading. “I don’t want the excitement to end, Yeosang.” You looked back up at him, unable to keep yourself from smiling gently at his confused expression. “Marriage, as beautiful as it is, brings monotony, which brings contempt…” 

“Ahh, I see now,” Yeosang nodded slowly, giving you a sad smile back, feeling like he understood his empress a bit more in that moment. He squeezed his fingers around the intricately carved wooden brush inside his grasp.  “Your Highness, may I ask you a question?” 

Just as you were about to respond, the large, jewel-encrusted doors of your meeting room opened with a groan. A tall, handsome man dressed in an extravagant, hand-sewn traditional robe came strolling in like he owned the place, holding an expensive mahogany box within his large hands. 

“Oh, princess, I’ve brought you a present,” Yunho called out teasingly, walking up to the table. He acknowledged Yeosang’s presence with a nod, who bent over to bow. The confident emperor sat down across from you at the table, his eyes hooded, his lips quirked up perversely as if he was reminiscing about your previous meetings. “Hi. Did you miss me?” 

You rolled your eyes, pretending as if you didn’t care about the emperor’s arrival, despite your heart and core throbbing rhythmically from him simply sitting there across from you. “What did you bring me, Yunho?” 

“Something that’ll have your little scribe here pulling at his robes when I’m done using it on you…Maybe he’ll even spill his ink all over himself like your last one…” Yunho’s eyes shifted from Yeosang, who gulped, to you, who simply sipped on your tea, his long fingers rubbing along the smooth edges of the mahogany box. 

You tilted your head to the side, idly biting at the tip of your manicured nail. “Is that so? Well, get on with it. I’m a busy woman, as you know, and I don’t like when my time is being wasted with nonsense.” 

Yunho simply scoffed, shaking his head slightly, sitting there silently for a moment, the only sound in the room being Yeosang’s wet brush expertly sliding across the scroll and your nails tapping against your tea cup. 

All you registered was the sight of Yunho swiftly getting up onto his feet and heading in your direction, his feet thumping against the mat below. Before you even realized what was happening, you were laying face down on the table, watching your tea pool out onto the sleek wood, your intricately crafted tea cup now split in individual pieces. Yunho had you held down by the neck, his fingers closing around it, his warm body pressing against yours, able to feel his stiff cock against your ass, even through your thick robes. 

He chuckled at the gasp you let out, bringing his lips near your ear to purr huskily, “Am I still wasting your time, princess? Or is getting your little cunt all nice and wet for me something worthwhile?” Instead of letting you answer, Yunho simply reached past you, flipping the boxe’s lid open, bringing it closer for you to take a good look at its contents. Inside the box sat a hand-woven flog, the edges of it decorated with a silver finishing, making it glisten in the light. “Do you like your present? I got it made just for you.” He rubbed his cock along your ass, his free hand roaming over your upper thigh to the curve of your ass. “Can’t you see? I’m in love with you…” 

“Oh, please.” As you tried to get up, Yunho pushed his body weight down onto you, holding your wrists down with ease. “Do you really think I’m going to let you use your little toy on me in front of my innocent scribe, Yunho? Who do you think you are?” 

“I’m simply a man who’s head over heels for you, Y/N…Take some responsibility…” Yunho quickly reached past your neck and down to your chest to rip open your garments, tugging on them while you continued to resist until your bare body was revealed underneath the many layers.

Yeosang dipped his brush inside the bottle of ink with a shaky hand, his cheeks flushed, unsure if he should speak up, his eyes fixated on you, never having seen you in such an indecent state before. “Sh-should…I keep going, your Highness?” 

When Yunho forcefully bent you over his knee and pulled your disheveled robe up to reveal your ass, his large hands squeezing into it, you nodded your head weakly at Yeosang, feeling a bit dizzy from being treated in such a way with your lovely dedicated scribe watching on. “Please, don’t let us stop you from doing your job, Yeosang…you’re doing so well…”  

“Thank you, Your Highness…” Yeosang blushed from the praise, dipping his brush back into the ink, before pressing it to the scroll, thankful that his garments were thick enough to cover his stiffening length.

You weren’t able to reply to Yeosang when Yunho abruptly slammed his open palm against the curve of your ass, a moan leaving your lips instead of words. He smacked the other side of your ass to watch it bounce and groped along it, squeezing your sensitive flesh between his slender fingers. “That’s it…just look at that color…Wish you could see it, princess. Shall I add some pretty shades of purple and pink too? You’re my canvas, Y/N…I’m sure you’ll let me paint you with my cum next, right? Just like every time, yeah?” 

“Fuck off, Yunho,” you grumbled, attempting to climb out of his lap, throbbing at the feeling of him grabbing you by the waist and holding you still, knowing you couldn’t get away even if you tried. 

“You weren’t saying that last time, princess. You were begging me for more…” Yunho picked up the flog, running his fingers along the woven leather, before he cracked it in the air, making Yeosang and you jolt from the sudden loud noise, bringing joy to the emperor. “Take a deep breath for me, Y/N…” 

Just as you did so, Yunho brought the flog down onto your ass, watching the individual leather straps leave pretty red marks on your skin, groaning, “So pretty… you’re so pretty for me, princess…” and repeating the motion, lacking the proper self control to stop himself, even when you began to cry, his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. 

“F-fuck…! Stop!” You kicked your legs and thrashed around until you were able to wiggle out of his grasp, just barely making it over to Yeosang’s large scribing table, before Yunho slammed you down onto it, knocking over one of the ink bottles with his rough handling of you. 

“Crying just for me, princess? You’re making me so hard,” Yunho sighed into your ear, moving closer to your face to lick one of your tears away, his hot breath hitting your cheek, your ass stinging more when he grabbed it roughly, bolts of pleasure shooting into your core. 

 “You fucking asshole…” you choked out, about to pull yourself up when the emperor pinned your hands painfully behind your back, feeling his knee press in between your thighs. 

Yunho tugged more of your garments off without a care in the world, huffing and as he shoved his hand in between your thighs from behind, rubbing two fingers along your clothed cunt, before tearing it off with ease. “Ahh, that’s what I thought…You’re so wet for me, Y/N.” He looked to Yeosang, who was blushing wildly, still just sitting there and haphazardly recording the chaos that was occurring right next to him, knowing it wasn’t his place to interact in any way unless either of you allowed him to. Yunho continued to rub at your cunt, enjoying the noises you and your gushing slit were making. “Hey, scribe, make sure you make a note about how fucking soaked your empress gets from getting manhandled by an enemy emperor. That’s an important detail, isn’t it, princess?” 

You struggled underneath the man, starting to feel ink soaking into your expensive garments, some of it staining your cheek. “Yunho, get off of me, or so help me–” You suddenly found yourself gasping for air, having been flogged again, though this time some of the leather straps reached your cunt, feeling it sting pleasurably in between your trembling thighs. 

Yunho looked over to Yeosang, who had his fingers clenched around his brush, his free hand in between his clenching thighs. “Hey, Yeosang, do you know why the previous scribe quit?” When he shook his head, Yunho grinned, admiring the pattern of bruises he left on your ass, running his fingers lightly over them. “He couldn’t handle watching his beloved empress cry and take what I so graciously gave her, but you can, can’t you, Yeosang?” 

He bit his bottom lip, feeling conflicted, not sure if he should nod or not. He instead looked to you, his eyebrows knitted together with concern. “Your Highness…” Yeosang whispered softly, hesitantly placing one hand on top of yours, holding it tightly. 

You looked up at him, smiling gently, blowing a bit of hair out of your hazy eyes, reaching your other hand over to rub the top of his knuckles. “It’s okay, Yeosang…I want this…” 

Yunho grabbed you by the hair, forcefully lifting up your head so that he could get a good look at you, practically drooling at this point, his cock throbbing against your backside. “Say that again…Let me hear it…” 

You turned your head to look at him, smiling sweetly, before you pursed your lips and sent a wad of spit onto his cheek, satisfied with the way it dripped down along his tightening jaw. “If you hurry up and fuck me instead of continuing on with this bullshit, I’ll think about it.” 

Turned on beyond measure, Yunho grabbed your own jaw, forcing it open so that he could send a wad of spit straight down your throat, chuckling darkly at the moan that escaped your parted lips. “This is why you’re my favorite, princess. You’re such a bratty little thing, just aching to be put in your place, huh? You want me to do that? Fuck you into submission in front of your sweet little scribe? Just say the word….” 

This time around, Yunho could see the desperation on your flushed face, your lips forming a pout. “Please…” you whined, surprising yourself and the two men watching you with your sudden act of obedience. 

“Oh my god, that’s fucking it right there…” Yunho groaned, pulling at the sash wrapped securely around his slim waist and pulling it loose, so that he could gain access to his undergarments, quickly tugging his stiff, leaking cock out. “Do you draw portraits too, scribe? This slut’s pretty face should be kept in the history books…” 

Yeosang nervously shook his head, starting to spread the ink across his scroll from watching the way Yunho pushed you up against the wall, so close to Yeosang that his garments spilled into his lap, forcefully wrapping your legs around his waist, just as he fully sheathed himself inside you, your soaked panties pushed to the side.

“No? That’s too bad…Well, at least jot down the fact that I conquer your Highness’s tight little cunt every time I give her a visit…” Yunho huffed out, smiling at you with his canines showing, his hands cemented tightly around your bare waist, bringing himself down to one of your tits to suck it into his open mouth. 

“God, will you just–aaah–shut the fuck up and…nnngh…fuck me properly?” you asked in between pants, barely able to take the emperor’s thick, oversized cock without feeling like you were going to break, your nails digging into his straining upper back through his garments, one side of his robe starting to drape off one of his broad shoulders. 

“Yeah? You want it rough just like every other time, don’t you, whore?” Yunho groaned against your skin, dragging his tongue up over your spit-laced tit to attack your neck with his lips and teeth, leaving your skin in various shades of red and purple. “Write this down too, scribe. The people should know that this pretty princess can’t cum unless she has a horsecock ramming into her cunt. Isn’t that right, Your Highness?”  

You couldn’t even speak at this point, from the way Yunho lifted one leg up onto the scribe table, using the leverage to fuck into you as deep and hard as he could, about to cream yourself from the way he kept you pinned down, just using you like a doll made for his pleasure. 

Now almost directly underneath his empress and the enemy emperor’s rapidly joining bodies, Yeosang couldn’t help but look up, fixated on the way your cunt spread open each time Yunho slammed himself inside your clenching hole, feeling a few drops of your mixed arousal drip down onto his face and roll down his warm cheek. He gingerly opened his mouth and held his tongue out, now pressing his brush directly into the soaked paper, leaning his back against the wall behind him, his hand beginning to rub at his pre-cum soaked cock that was still trapped underneath his heavy garments. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet, princess…I think I might…slip out…” Yunho sighed heavily against your ear, roughly nibbling it with the aid of one of his canine teeth, slowly sliding his cock out of you and slapping his heavy cock against your abdomen, smearing his pre cum onto your skin. 

The feeling of being completely empty just as you were about to cum almost sent you into a full-blown rage, practically ready to start another war with Yunho if he didn’t stick his cock back inside you. You abruptly grabbed him by the hair, clutching a tuft of his damp icy blond locks, leaning in so that your lips ghosted his. “Fuck me, you goddamn bastard. Make me cum.” 

This time Yunho didn’t play any games, simply rubbing his cockhead back and forth over your throbbing clit just to make you shudder against him, before he slipped back inside, immediately pounding himself into you, essentially leaving you breathless. “Look at you just taking it, princess… I know it’s big…You’re doing so well for me…taking it so good, princess…I’m so proud…” 

The sudden bout of praise coming from the enemy in such a sickly sweet tone, especially while he began to pump hot loads of cum into you, sent you barreling over the edge, not doing your dear scribe any favors when you began to babble nonsensically, tears beginning to fall from your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure taking over your body. 

“Yeahhh, take it, princess…I’m gonna knock you up so you have to marry me.” Yunho chuckled darkly, his fingers squeezing into your hips, pressing a rough kiss to your lips, biting at your bottom lip before he pulled away. 

“You’re disgusting,” you huffed, grimacing at him, despite the fact that your thighs were still trembling. 

“Don’t say that, princess,” Yunho whined, leaning his forehead against yours, slowly pulling out inch by inch. “You know how hard that makes me…” He looked down to Yeosang, who was breathing heavily underneath the both of you, his mouth agape, splashes of arousal decorating his pretty, flushed face and damp hair. “Hey, scribe, you’ve been a good boy just sitting here and watching the whole time. You want a taste of your Highness’s used cunt?” 

Feeling sufficiently dizzy, Yeosang looked to you for approval, feeling his cock pulse at your slow dazed nod, bringing his hands up to your thighs to caress them, bringing his lips up to kiss and lick at the wetness around your cunt with a gentleness that would’ve had you collapsing if your legs weren’t securely hooked over Yunho’s shoulders. 

“Make sure you get it all…” Yunho murmured softly, completely pulling out of you with a wet, shlick sound, dribbles of his cum beginning to gush out of your gaping hole, allowing Yeosang to collect it inside his drooling mouth. Yunho brought a free hand to Yeosang’s head, holding him against your cunt, finding great joy in the desperate, sloppy manner in which he ate you out, like a delirious, thirsty man that had just found a hidden oasis. 

It was when Yeosang slipped his slender fingers deep inside your pulsing cunt, his hot mouth closed around your sensitive clit, that you began to whine and whimper, one arm hooked around Yunho’s neck for support, your free hand going down to grab onto Yeosang’s hair when Yunho let go, gazing down to find him already looking up at you with half closed eyes. 

“It’s so good, you’re so good for me, Yeosang, I’m going to…oh my god…”  

Yeosang clutched one side of your bruised ass with one hand, curling three of his fingers inside you and rubbing them against your clenching walls, lapping at your clit, his thighs closing together, his cheeks bright red from the praise. 

All the while, Yunho simply watched on, his chest swelling with pride, occasionally leaving kisses and licks on your straining, marked-up neck. “Cum for him, will you, princess? Won’t you soak his pretty face with your squirt?” 

Having your lovely scribe in between your legs, eating your cunt like it was his assigned job to do so, having your sworn enemy pressing his heated, sweaty body against yours, more filthy words leaving his lips for your shared pleasure was all far too much. “Yeosang…!” 

Yeosang found himself being covered in a warm spray of liquid, tasting your squirt on his tongue, closing his eyes for a moment to bask in the pleasure of it all, opening them back up just in time for you to pull him into your arms, your bare body against his half-dressed one. “Your Highness…” 

“I didn’t mean to do such a dirty thing to you, Yeosang, I’m so sorry…” You used your sleeves to wipe some of the wetness away from his face, blushing more than you had during the whole night. 

“Your Highness…” he repeated, softer this time, giving you a shy smile, pulling his robe apart until you could see what he had done to himself. 

Your eyes widened at the milky stains of cum splattered across the insides of his ceremonial garments, looking back up into his eyes, returning his shy smile. “If I had known you had such an affinity for me, I wouldn’t have looked for suitors this long. Who needs them when I have you?” 

Yeosang reached up to hold his heated cheeks, dumbfounded by the string of events, unable to believe that his beloved empress could feel such a way about him. “It’d be an honor to always be by your side…”

You giggled, reaching up to place a hand over his, your thumb brushing over his pretty birthmark. 

Yunho cleared his throat, running his fingers through his sweaty hair, his robe already wrapped ornately around his body, looking like he did when he first entered the meeting room, besides the afterglow he was now sporting. “I’d love to stay here longer and experience this beautiful moment with you both, but my job here is done.” He patted both of your heads, as if he were a proud father, before heading taking a few elegant strides towards the door. Before he left, he turned back to look at you, his tongue poking into one of his canine teeth, giving you a shit-eating smirk. “Until next time, princess.” 

“There isn’t going to be a next time,” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes, your arms still around Yeosang, watching your smug enemy leave the room with a soft chuckle. 

Yeosang chuckled softly, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair, feeling confident enough to share his thoughts with you. “Now, let’s not kid ourselves, Your Highness.” 

“Heyyy,” you whined, giving him a pout, watching him pick up his drying brush up from the table. “Don’t you dare write that down.” When he motioned to dip his brush into the spilled ink, you hugged onto him from the side. “Yeosangggg, I’m still your empress!”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “By the way, what was that question you wanted to ask me?”

Yeosang gulped, studying the ink-stained table below for a second, before turning his head to look at you, your faces just centimeters away from one another. “Will you replace me one day, Your Highness?”

Your eyes widened slightly, taking in your scribe’s vulnerability, wanting to return the same energy to him, as he was deserving of it. “Never, Yeosang. You’re here to stay.”

Yeosang blushed fervently, dropping the brush back down to hug you into his arms, nuzzling your neck gently, his hair tickling your skin, about to melt inside his empress’s grasp. “Promise?” 

You wrapped your arms tighter around him, pressing your lips to his cheek, waiting for him to look back into your eyes to whisper, “Promise.”

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[dolicekiss]

Hello there,

If you are still taking in requests, I thought I'd just leave this here. Could you potentially do a Hannibal Lecter x reader one-shot/headcanons (it's up to you) where they used to be lovers. But when the reader caught wind of Hannibal not exactly being a normal, she practically dissappeared from his life entirely. Now, years later, he sees the reader in Baltimore at an art gallery or something (idk maybe the reader is an artist herself or just a guest?) And it just re-sparks some sort of deep longing (yandere vibes???) within Hannibal.

Just a thought.

♡: i love this idea, its fr gonna awaken the poet in me. i hope u like it and it was up to your expectations (fear of disappointing ppl goes hard)

An ache for art

YANDERE HANNIBAL HEADCANON

PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal x Artist!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: Yandere hannibal, mentions of kidnapping, forced (?) kissing, persistant hannibal, not much, only obsessed hannibal who wants his woman back

SYNOPSIS: When you abandoned Hannibal Lecter, he searched for answers everywhere in his desperation for you. Oblivious to the fact that you'd caught onto the abnormalities of the man. Years later at an art gallery, Hannibal finds solace in the painings presented before you and when he finds out you're the creator, a spark is once again lightened.

An art gallery in Baltimore was the last destination of all places in the world where Hannibal expected to find you.

When he'd asked to see the artist that had performed such a spectacular job at capturing human longing — akin to his, under the stroke of a brush, he didn't expect it to be you.

And you surely didn't expect to meet him. Yet here you were, nervousness heaving on you like cemented blocks.

You'd abandoned him under the fear that you might become his next victim. A voice inside you prevented you from informing the authorities but your morals could not allow you to stay with a man like him.

Especially after realizing he must've fed you human remains, on one of his special dinner nights. Torn between your love for him and the need to escape, you never looked back.

Hannibal tried searching for you, everywhere. He thought you two were soulmates, meant to be forever. You'd climbed the walls that he had always kept higher and higher.

Just why did you leave then? Had he done something so severe that you had to disappear from his life? Leaving your job behind, your life behind in Florence and never appearing in front of him ever again.

“Hannibal.” Your voice a whisper. He could taste the way his name unfurled on your tongue.

For a man that in complete control of his emotions and what he felt, he couldn't contain his excitement and happiness upon at the sight of you.

Hannibal stepped closer to you, a smile causing the wrinkles to appear. The same wrinkles you once used to adore.

“Beautiful art, I must say.”

You nodded, accepting his compliment, a small smile on your lips. You felt no discomfort or resentment in his presence. Only thing left were the beautiful memories of a healthy relationship.

The rest of the evening was spent together. You showed him around the gallery, explaining subtle details of your art to him albeit that wasn't necessary as Hannibal read right through your gentle brush strokes.

Though he was more interested in the art that strolled alongside him. A beautiful sight in her glory, flourishing once more like the petals of a sunflower.

Hannibal had an ache. An ache to consume art but you were the type of art he felt full just by catching sight of. He couldn't satiate these cravings you'd left him with.

After your departure, Hannibal killed and he killed. Yet no one could even compare to what you made him feel.

You were responsible for the deaths of multiple innocents, because you chose to leave him with an ache. Hannibal wondered how you'd feel if you were to find out.

He wished for the time to stop. That everything would come to a halt and you'd stay frozen right before his gaze.

Nowhere to go, nowhere to run to. Only available to him, only before his very eyes.

If it came down to it, Hannibal would not shy away from denying you of your freedom.

As you both reached a secluded corner in the gallery, the tension like a pendulum hung in the air above your heads.

Unanswered questions probed at Hannibal from within. He needed to know why you'd left — just what had scared you away to the point of no return?

Somewhere he knew. Deep in his heart, he was aware that this abrupt abandonment had everything to do with his own sickly desires.

“Why?”

You knew it was coming and it did. You couldn't tell him you knew about his little murder sprees or how he fed you human flesh.

You tried to walk away from the suffocating conversation but Hannibal couldn't allow that. Hand grasping around your arm, his tight prevention scaring you.

“Hannib—”

“I won't let you leave this time.” He longed for you, he never stopped to begin with. Everyday he'd come to his house and find it empty, it felt like needles prickled his chest.

He missed you roaming the premises of his humble abode, dressed in one of his button downs. Casting a meaningful light over the painted walls and furniture.

His grip was tight. You saw the sheer determination so instead of causing a scene, it was best to continue the conversation someplace better.

Like a coffee shop.

Sitting before him with a cup of coffee in your hand, you stared at him. Hannibal was never fond of such small cafes on the roadside — he preferred lavish and rich restaurants.

“I know, Hannibal.”

That was all he needed to know that you were well aware. His face falling but there was no expression on his face at all. Like he'd expected this.

“Was it that easy to abandon me?”

A stinging sensation spread in your chest at his sorrow filled question. Of course it wasn't easy. You'd spent a whole year in complete isolation after parting from him.

Hannibal caught onto the painful expression, akin to his. He wished that he was different too, more like you and not the cannibalistic murderer he was.

But some instincts could not be controlled.

“Come back to me.”

You could not. To step all over your moral conscience required strong will which you did not possess.

“I can't. It will never work, Hannibal.”

Hannibal noticed the reluctance in your gaze, his own darkening. Plans to keep you by his side already forming in his cunning mind.

There was no limit he wouldn't cross for you. Whether it was manipulating you back into his life or kidnapping you, he didn't want to back out.

You picked up your bag and after sparing him one last glance, left the cafe. Bells ringing against his ears, notifying him of your exit.

Hannibal was in disarray. He needed to have you, he had to have you. There was no way he could sit idle and watch you leave him.

So he followed you, pressing you up against your car. Lips working hastily to captivate yours, as he fought the string of dark emotions inside him.

You almost melted.

Him being the only man that could make you feel like this. A bittersweet kiss which acted as the closure you never received from him.

Hannibal’s frame locked you in, his hands roaming down to your waist. He kissed you with vigor, with profound strength like you could disappear at any given moment.

Your hands stayed by your sides, lacking the courage to slither them across his nape.

The kiss heated – his lips sucking yours and then he attempted to enter your mouth. You didn't let him. Persistent you were.

Hannibal pulled back from the kiss and breathed against your lips.

You soon realized what you were doing, in who you were investing and you pushed him off you.

Hannibal loved the feeling of your small hands over his chest. The way you still tasted the same even after years had passed.

“Don't ever come in front of me again.”

He didn't like the venom in your tone and he sure as hell wasn't going to let you go like before.

Hannibal watched you leave in your car and sighed, his fingertips running along his own lips. Remnants of your saliva bringing him to the brink of insanity.

He would do anything to have you.

And if that meant going against your will, so be it.

[okartichoke]

ace avian. that’s what we’re calling this 🗣️🗣️🗣️

please let me know if you have any thoughts or suggestions or input or anything! i’m happy to bounce ideas around (i'll post DL-6 someday soon i swear)

shoutout to the anon who sent in that ask bc i seriously fell in love with blue jay phoenix. SHOUTOUT TO TAKAHE PHOENIX TOO THO takahe phoenix, you will forever be in my heart and im glad you existed <3333,, (maybe in this au he’s got some loving adoptive takahe parents :3) (YKNOW WHAT YEAH that’s canon now)

but yeah, flight-avoidant jay phoenix still lends itself well to the common-man hardworking underdog vibe i want from him. speaking of flight-avoidant...

Phoenix's relationship with flying:

It's a bit complicated. Basically, Phoenix can fly, but he historically chooses not to. From the lack of any practice, he's an INCREDIBLY weak flier. (That hovering is really all he can manage)

For one, he's still afraid of heights. Can't help that. This fear means he was less inclined to practice flying, which made him a weaker flier. And being a weaker flier, in turn, made his fear of heights worse. And so on, in a loop. With flightless parents too (it's canon now it's canon), there's even less of a reason to learn to fly. At some point, not flying might've even become something he stuck with out of stubbornness lol, knowing Phoenix.

(I will soon be making a couple small world building posts, but) flying isn't necessary to get around in their society. Convenient, sure, but Phoenix realized he could make do without, and so he did. Phoenix, you icon. Slay. 💅💅

i know this probably isn't the popular take with wing AUs??, but Phoenix being flightless (or at least semi-flightless) sounded like a really fun take on the idea to me. His name is irony at its peak. I also look forward to exploring how other characters react to him not flying. The prosecutors are going to have so many cheap insult opportunities.

As I mentioned though, he still uses his wings a LOT, though. He's much more emotive with them than most people. His sarcastic inner-dialogue remarks are also betrayed by his wings lmao

I also imagine bird-folk never really invented bikes (riding would just be annoying with their wings, plus bikes aren't fast/efficient enough to outweigh just flying), so instead, Phoenix gets around on a little wing-powered scooter device (like scootaloo lol) (they're usually made for children who can't fly yet, but Phoenix still uses one)

finally, wow, stellar jay’s are quite literally just phoenix wright as a bird lmao? color scheme, hair, it’s uncanny. give it a pink tie and it just is Phoenix Wright, i used a blue jay since they’ve got a bit more striking wings but wow.

(ty again for the support and for reading my essay ! :3)

one more thing, but @kora-kat YES YES YES this. ^^^^ omg THIS. this is still true even though he's a jay now.

[astropookie]

synastry/composite chart observations not the type you wanted though 😝

joann sfar

synastry

⚘ I’ve noticed every friendship I’ve that ended up other me cutting them out had their Chiron on my 12H. could mean searching for your path, like taking conscious for what direction their friendship is going.

⚘ I have a twin and we have the same birth chart: our synastry is horrible. jk but there’s a lot of conjunctions -exact positions-, conjunctions are not always ideal, a lot less when it’s in excess. not if you’re searching for a deep relationship. there’s a lot of boredom and conflict. for example, ascendant conjunction ascendant can bring superficiality and from one part trying to be peaceful, without expressing themselves truthfully, delivering to boredom from both parts.

⚘ venus opposition moon: venus can feel the moon is too distant, as if they have wall in front of them. the way venus wish the moon shows their love and care for them is not as they expected. venus has to somehow try to understand -if they want the relationship to advance- not everyone shows love the same way. also moon needs to exteriorize or help the moon: not only venus to do all the work.

⚘ their lilith (mean) on 12H means the lilith person embrace what 12H represents on the house persons's life. their spirituality, their subconscious. to be more in tune with it. for example, ik two people with this synastry and the lilith person is very spiritual, they even have payed for medium sessions for the house person -doesn’t have to be that specific, spirituality can be expressed in different ways-.

composite

𑁍 the ascendant says a lot in a composite chart, it’s the vibe, how they unfold between each other. for example, if the ascendant is in aquarius, while time passes, they learn to enjoy and embrace the goofiness of each other, they spend a good time and are comfortable with each other.

𑁍 also, the degree of the ascendant it’s important. it explains how they react to things in general, how they solve their problems in pair. for example, if there’s aries degree, it says that there’s a part of individuality here, aries reminds me of someone who can get carried away by their impulses and leadership traits, they want to do their thing, on their own. one of the pair it’s feeling left out in some kinda way. not saying all the time but in a specific topic, there’s more information if you between the dots reading the chart.

𑁍 jupiter conjunction venus tells in this relationship they can bring positivity and joy between each other, they help each other to get out of hard/emo times. they could have survived together from different groups.

𑁍 10H stellium can tell they share the same vision, goal drive. the both of them are focused on their careers and success, they agree that’s first on their life.

𑁍 saturn square neptune 1° orb: there’s tension between focusing on what’s necessary and what’s what they want, their dreams or main goals can be postponed or realized later on life, together. lack of discipline?

𑁍 north node opposition saturn: they’re meant to have difficulties with understanding the order of the other, their attitude towards authorities, their goals, their ethics are different.

𑁍 taurus 11H stellium can tell this relationship is build by the same values and it’s more likely to be a friendship than another type of relationship. they’re more conservative and protective of each other, I’ve also noticed they’re able to give each other space when the other needs it or to not be too persistent between each other. also they can gossip A LOT. they can literally see each other just for the yap.

𑁍 chiron square mars 0° orb: there are issues to being direct in what they’re annoyed, to fight and to not escape, they probably want to be in peace and focus on it, not remembering that treating the problem together can be more beneficial. the orb makes an emphasis. while time passes, they’re meant to reach balance, in other words, to learn from this and take action.

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა ∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗ */ᐠ - ˕ -マ✩ (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)∗ ࣪

♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

[wonlovie]

— RACING, BEATING PART II read part i here

Months after your fateful night with Heeseung, you ask him to teach you how to race. Instead, he asks you to cheer him on at his next race.

— starring. illegal-racer!heeseung x model!reader, very brief cameo of mingyu from seventeen

— tags. arranged-marriage!au, pre-established relationship, minor angst (if u squint??), reader gets objectified, smut [unprotected sex (be safe!!), public sex, hint of pussy drunk heeseung, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, vaginal fingering, degrading (use of whore, slut; another man is mentioned during sex, kind of mean-dom!heeseung, car sex [MINORS DNI])

— word count. 6.2k (oops this was meant to be like 4k)

— notes. writing hee smut to songs like blossom and off your face is such a weird vibe PAHAHAH // reading part i isn't really necessary for this one, but it gives u context :)

“Teach me how to race.”

Heeseung blinked at you slowly, squinting his eyes as he put down the rag. You tried your best not to eye the way his muscles looked under his black tank top. He stood to his full height, leaving you breathless at the way the fabric lined his toned chest so damn well under the poor lighting. A pair of baggy jeans hung low on his hips, letting you see a sliver of his stomach.

With his car half polished, Heeseung stepped toward you. “Do you even have your license?”

You stared at him, offended. “Of course I do!” you snapped, huffing in indignation. “I got it as soon as it was legal for me to.”

“Baby,” he chuckled, raising a brow at you. “You don’t drive, though. Your driver takes you everywhere. And if not him, it’s me.” Wiping his hands on his dirtied jeans, Heeseung walked closer. You let out a noise of surprise when he suddenly tugged your arm, bringing you chest to chest. You gulped, looking deeply into those eyes that stared just as intensely as they did when you first met him.

His hand splayed across the small of your back as he pressed you flat against him. “What brought this up?” he asked, leaning in and leaving behind fleeting kisses on your cheek. Your knees felt weak as he gently nibbled on your earlobe, tongue swiping across your sensitive skin as he whispered in your ear. “Is my driving not good enough for you, princess?”

Heeseung lips pulled up into a smirk when your breath hitched, only parting to leave open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “No,” you stammered. “Just…”

“Just what?” he mumbled against your skin before suckling at your neck. You mentally groaned at the thought of going into your next shoot, all marked up for the umpteenth time. 

“Just wanted to try,” you murmured, gasping when he nipped at your jugular, his hand tightening on your waist. “That’s all.”

You could feel his stiffness pressing against your tummy, your fingers itching to take care of him. But when you moved to remove his belt, he smacked your hand away. You whined as he bit down on your shoulder, his hands actively groping your ass now. You sighed out his name, throwing your head back to give him more room.

The garage suddenly felt hotter than it was five minutes ago as Heeseung turned you around, pressing you against the front bumper of the cherry red car. He easily made room for himself, slotting his hips neatly between your thighs. He moved to kiss you, groaning into your mouth as you shifted your clothed cunt against his hardening length.

“Fuck,” he sighed out, kissing you again with fervour. A ringed hand wrapped itself around your neck, squeezing lightly as he pushed you to sit atop the car’s hood. Heeseung tugged at your shirt, pushing it up and over your breasts. He cupped you harshly, circling your nipples over the thin material of your sports bra. 

You whimpered his name, arching your back into his palm. “So needy for me,” he moaned against your lips as he brought his hips to yours. You felt the roughness of his jeans easily through your thin leggings, whining as the material rubbed against your clothed clit. You had no doubt that if he were to cup your sex, Heeseung would be able to feel just how soaked you were without even stripping you. “You want me, baby?”

“Yes,” you gasped in pleasure as he ducked his head to suck on the tops of your breasts, angry red kisses scattered over your skin. “Yes, please, Hee. Need you so badly,” you cried out his name in a broken moan when he pulled your bra down and brought your nipple to his hot mouth. His tongue circled the sensitive bud, his teeth scraping against it sinfully.

As he toyed with you, his tongue sending your brain into a frenzied state of pure want, his hands busied themselves with the hem of your pants. He dipped his fingers beneath the waistband, slipping the offending material down the expanse of your legs. The flimsy fabric fell to the dirtied ground, something you would have complained about if you were in a sane state of mind. But the way Heeseung’s deft fingers danced across your thighs before stroking up your cunt left you speechless.

“Shit,” he breathed out, dropping his head on your shoulder as he pushed your legs open wider. You had no doubt that your slick was dripping onto the hood of his newly polished car. “‘S good for me,” hissing, he inserted two fingers into your heat, giving you no time to prepare. A wide grin stretched over his face when you sobbed out his name; his gaze trained on the slope of your neck as you threw your head back in pleasure. “So wet, all from a few kisses?”

You whined, hips twitching. “Shut up,” you mumbled behind shaking hands, covering your flushed cheeks in embarrassment. “It’s not like you’re any better…”

Heeseung clicked his tongue, though he didn’t deny your claim. His cock was weeping with need inside his boxers, the hard length pulsing with every thrust of his fingers into your sopping cunt. “If you keep giving me that attitude, I’ll stop right now.” It was an empty threat, one that made you clench around his fingers pathetically nonetheless. He chuckled a low sound that sent shivers down your back. “Do you want me to stop?”

When his fingers halted, you cried out his name in desperation. You snapped your head up, feeling your eyes swell with tears. “You’re so mean,” you pouted, shuddering when the cool air of the garage suddenly brushed against your bare skin. “Heeseung, come on—”

He sighed, pulling his fingers out of you. He avoided your begging gaze, instead opting to stare at the wetness that coated his fingers. Finally looking up at you, he kept eye contact as he slowly licked his digits clean, his tongue sliding over his knuckles. “You know that’s not what I want to hear from you, princess.”

You looked away, humiliated, as you felt your ears heat up. “Please,” you whispered into the silent room. “Please fuck me, Hee.”

He grinned at you, tugging you closer by hooking his hands underneath your knees. He pressed a soft kiss against your knee before moving to unbuckle his pants. “Good girl,” Heeseung sighed as he released his length from the confines of his boxers. “Just keep being good for me, yeah? You’re gonna take it all, right baby?”

He wasn’t expecting an answer as he pressed his tip against your folds, the two of you moaning in unison. He slid his length over your pussy, spreading your juices over his hard cock. Heeseung’s jaw was agape as he fucked against your clit, chest heaving from the sensitivity. You watched closely as he slowly stroked himself, using your slick as a lubricant, enchanted with the way his eyes seemed to glaze over in pleasure, brows pinched tightly as he sighed out a few curses. 

“This is all mine,” he mumbled, leaning forward to latch his lips to yours in a messy kiss. Drool dribbled from the side of your mouth as you moaned into his mouth when he started easing himself into you. Despite how many times you’d had sex, his size never failed to leave you breathless. 

Once he bottomed out, Heeseung murmured your name against your neck as he left behind more love bites. His cock twitched inside you as he urged himself not to fuck you relentlessly. The way your pussy clenched around him sporadically had his mouth parting in high moans. He bit down on your shoulder again as he shallowly thrusted, his arms wrapping around your middle tightly.

You moaned at the weight of his upper body pressing you against the hood of the car, the cool aluminum contrasting with his burning touch. Wrapping your legs around his slim waist, you silently urged him to go harder, faster.

Using his hold on you to keep you in place, he picked up his pace, pulling out until just the tip was left inside before harshly thrusting back into you. The sound of skin against skin echoed in the empty garage. If anyone were to come down to the parking garage, the unmistakable sound of your wet cunt being plowed into would have tipped them off right away.

“Hee,” you sobbed as he went faster, feeling every vein and curve of his dick rub against your gummy walls. “Fu-ck, baby, I’m so close,” your words slurred together as you clutched onto Heeseung’s wide shoulders, clawing down the fabric of his shirt.

“Already?” he panted, looking up at you through his bangs. He reached up, pushing your hair out of your face. His fingers grasped your chin, forcing you to hold your head up. He groaned, eyes fluttering shut when you clamped around him. “C’mon, babe,” he whispered, looking into your eyes as he went deeper. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His words didn’t match his actions as he reached down to thumb at your swollen clit, your hips instantly jutting upwards in overstimulation. You all but screamed his name, tears flowing down your cheeks. He let go of your face, only to push one of your legs up against your torso. The change in position lets him reach a spot deeper within you. Your name left his throat in a broken whisper, his eyes shutting tightly as he tried not to cum earlier than he wanted to.

When you heard the sound of a roaring engine coming closer, your eyes opened wide as you tried to find the source. However, when you turned your head, Heeseung made you look back at him. “What is it?” he asked breathlessly, raising a brow at you as he slowed his hips, grinding into you at a snail’s pace. “Don’t wanna get caught, huh? Don’t want my neighbours to see how much of a whore you are?” 

With each word, he delivered a particularly harsh thrust. You bit your hand in a futile attempt to keep quiet, but the sound of his hips slamming against yours did little to hide the naughty position you were in. 

Heeseung smiled almost sadistically as he watched you try to keep quiet, his ego inflating from the way you were utterly failing. You glared at him through teary eyes as you heard someone park and exit their car, the loud beep of the locking mechanism making you jump. Heeseung’s car was parked in the far corner, somewhere not many of the other residents liked to park due to the distance they’d have to walk. Though, if the person looked in your direction, there would be no hiding what you were doing.

As the steps got closer to the elevator and closer to you, Heeseung started to move faster, his hips just shy of slapping against yours. “Lee Heeseung,” you hissed, trying to push his hips away as you tried looking over his shoulder warily.

You heard the elevator doors open and close, the whirring noise of it moving upstairs making your heart race in anticipation. Once it was quiet for a few seconds, Heeseung abruptly continued fucking you relentlessly. His eyes were narrowed as he watched your face contort in pleasure, a frown tugging at his lips from your previous attempt at stopping him.

“Just try to stop me like that next time,” he spat, leaning back as he brought your legs over his shoulders. “See where it gets you.” Despite his cruel words, his thumbs rubbed gentle circles over your thighs, greatly contrasting his bruising thrusts.

He eyed you like a predator with his prey, gaze darting from your fucked out expression to the bounce of your breasts. He gripped your waist, groping at your sides as he felt his orgasm near. Heeseung’s head dropped, his hair sticking to his forehead from exertion. You blindly reached for him, eyes screwed closed in rapture. 

He moved to take your hand in his, interlacing your fingers as he pressed them against the car, next to your head. His other hand dropped from your thigh back down to your clit as he rubbed circles again. “Cum,” Heeseung gasped, the drag of his cock against your tight core making him see stars. “Come on, baby. Want you to cum around my cock. You’ll do that for me, right? Be good,” he moaned.

You clenched around him, nails digging into the back of his hand that enclosed yours. “Close,” you whimpered.

Heeseung moved faster, causing incoherent babbles to fall from his hips as he neared overstimulation. His cock twitched, the first syllable of your name barely sounding from his pretty pink lips before he came. He moaned loudly, his hips faltering for only a second before he kept going. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whined, eyes tightly closed. His thumb moved faster over your clit, desperate to push you over the edge.

You came almost violently, your back arching as your thighs trembled. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as you felt white hot lust wash over you, your gummy walls hugging him tightly as you milked him dry. Heeseung held the back of your head as he brought you in for a kiss, the both of you struggling to keep your lips locked as his hips stuttered into you.

He helped you ride through your orgasm, only stopping when you began to whine from the overstimulation, pushing his chest away weakly. Heeseung watched himself as he pulled out of you, sighing in ecstasy at the sight of his cum messily pooling out of you and onto the car.

You stayed there, breathless as Heeseung pulled his pants back up and quickly moved around to get something from the front seat. He returned with a few tissues, gently wiping at your sensitive cunt until you were mostly clean. Picking up your pants, he quickly shook off any dirt before helping you put them on.

“Let’s go up to my apartment,” he mumbled as he pressed a soft kiss against your temple. “We can take a bath together.” He held you tenderly as he eased you off the car, holding you up when your knees shook. He hurriedly put his supplies into the trunk before taking your hand and guiding you to the elevator, the loud beep of his car letting you know it was locked behind you.

“So?”’

He looked at you over his shoulder. “So, what?”

“Will you teach me?”

He looked at you in disbelief before laughing, turning his head from you to hide his wide grin. “Come watch me race first,” he proposed. “Then we’ll see about getting you behind the wheel.

Although you’ve known Heeseung for almost a year, you’ve never actually seen him race. Not if you excluded the first time he’d brought you to the race track, but that was nothing compared to the street race you found yourself at.

There were dozens of people gathered, bystanders excited to watch the long-awaited race. When Heeseung pulled up, you shivered at just how cold it was, the night air nipping at the skin beneath your short skirt. “Here,” Heeseung said quietly, handing you one of his hoodies from the back seat.

You took it gratefully, pulling it over your thin top and sighing when his smell invaded your senses. He smiled at the sight of you settling into his clothing, ruffling his hair before he walked off, telling you that he had to go prepare with the other drivers. “The guys are here somewhere,” he told you before he left. “I think Jungwon said he’d be waiting near the start line for you so you guys can watch together.”

You waved at his back, even though he couldn’t see you. Scanning the crowd, you spotted Jungwon rather quickly. His newly dyed red hair stood out like a sore thumb, something you silently thanked him for as you moved to rush closer. As you neared, you opened your mouth to call his name, but before you could, someone blocked your vision of him.

Pausing, you looked up at the person. He was tall, taller than Heeseung, and his eyes pierced into your soul uncomfortably. “Sorry,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze as you tried to move around him. The man, however, had no plans to let you leave as he side-stepped in front of you.

You looked back up at him with a slightly peeved look in your eye, a frown tugging at your lips impatiently. He paid no mind to your expression, instead smiling at you. “I’ve never seen you at a race,” he said, his deep voice making you feel uneasy. “Think you have the wrong place, princess.”

Hearing the nickname that you loved, only when it came from Heeseung, made you grimace. “I definitely don’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” You tried to move around him again, only for him to stand in front of you. “What is your problem?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low.

He only laughed at you, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “Relax, princess. I just wanted to get to know you better.” He stepped closer to you, reaching out to grab your wrist before you could back up. “C’mon. After the race, I can show you back to my place and—”

“If you don’t get your hands off of her, I will run you over.”

Both you and the man snapped your heads in the direction of the voice, your eyes widening when you saw Heeseung standing there. He stood up straight, a glower overtaking his usually soft features. Ripping your hand out of the strange man’s grasp, you quickly moved to Heeseung’s side.

The man looked back and forth between you and Heeseung, realization coming to him when Heeseung grasped your hand and pulled you behind him. “I see,” he laughed loudly, though there was nothing jovial in his tone. “Didn’t know she was yours, Lee. You brought a hot girl for once.”

You could’ve sworn you heard Heeseung growl as his grip on you tightened. “What do you want, Mingyu? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the race?” He clearly didn’t expect an answer as he turned to you. His mouth opened to say something, but before he could voice his thoughts, the man, Mingyu, interrupted him.

“If I beat you tonight, I want her.”

You felt your blood run cold as you tensed, Heeseung’s eyes flitting over to you in concern before he glared at Mingyu. Taking hold of both of your shoulders, Heeseung pushed you further away from him to block you from Mingyu’s sight. “What?” he spat, glaring at the taller male with hatred pouring from his tongue. “Fuck off, Mingyu.”

He turned to you. “The race is starting soon. Jungwon’s waiting over there, so—”

Mingyu scoffed before gesturing to the crowd. “Hey, everyone!” he cupped his mouth as he spoke. In an instant, the chatter around you ceased, and people turned to look at the commotion. You made eye contact with Jungwon, who quickly assessed the situation and tried squeezing his way toward you. If it weren’t for the tense atmosphere, you would have laughed at the way his eyes bulged, his lips clearly mouthing an oh shit as he hurried. 

Mingyu continued once he had everyone’s attention. “Your dear Heeseung here,” Mingyu pointed to Heeseung, who stood rigidly in front of you. “The one you all love to cheer for, he’s nothing but a coward—” Mingyu smirked, looking directly at you, “—who doesn’t think he can race well enough to keep his bitch.”

Heeseung seethed, fists clenching at his sides as he mentally willed himself to ignore Mingyu. He turned to you, pushing you toward Jungwon, who had finally reached you. “Go with him.”

You balked at him, eyes rounding in incredulity. “Uh, no, not until you fight for me?” You raised a brow at him, taking in his shocked expression. “Like, right now, Heeseung. I know you’ll win against that loser, so just…” you paused, looking over Heeseung’s shoulder at Mingyu, who stared in wait. “So just bet for his car or something. Ruin him for me, yeah?”

Heeseung gaped at you for a moment before his usual confidence seeped back into his expression. “You’re fucking crazy,” he mumbled, pulling you in for a deep kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you impossibly close. “I like how you think.”

You heard the announcer calling for all drivers to meet at the start line with their vehicles and grinned at Heeseung as he kissed you one more time before walking off. You watched his back as he caught up to Mingyu, no doubt telling him about the bet. You could tell from the way Mingyu’s shoulders tensed, and he glanced over at you and then to his car.

Jungwon looked at you with an amused grin on his face. “You know, you and Heeseung are so right for each other sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes at him, tugging him back to where he waited for you before. “Come on, Wonnie. I don’t want to miss the race.”

The race was just as exhilarating as the race at the track, if not more. Your eyes trained on Heeseung’s red car as the five drivers lined up next to each other. It was deafening; between the loud cries of the souped-up cars and the cheering crowd, you knew your ears would be buzzing by the end of the night.

You barely registered that Mingyu was seated in the black car next to Heeseung’s, catching the way they glared at each other through their windows. You held your breath as the flag girl stood in front of the awaiting racers, both hands gripping onto a green flag. In a split second, she waved them, the green fabric fluttering in the cool night air; all five cars had zoomed away. 

From where you stood, you couldn’t tell if any car had a lead on the others, the screech of tires against asphalt slowly quieting as they drove further and further away. Beside you, Jungwon tugged on your—Heeseung’s—hoodie sleeve. “Let’s go watch by the screens.”

You followed aimlessly, reaching an area where a few large screens had been set up. On them, you could see footage of the race as the cars were followed by what you presumed was a drone. Easily spotting Heeseung’s red vehicle, you watched attentively. You chewed on the inside of your cheek nervously as Heeseung and Mingyu’s cars easily overtook the other three.

“He’s going too fast,” Jungwon mumbled beside you in worry. “The route’s full of sharp turns. If he keeps that speed, he’s going to spin out really quickly.” You looked at Jungwon with concern before looking back at the screen.

Though you knew virtually nothing about racing, even you could tell that what Jungwon was saying was true. A map of the whole route was displayed alongside the drone footage, showing several turns before the racers would make their way back to the starting line. “Don’t be stupid, Hee,” you whispered into your palm, hugging the fabric of the hoodie closer. 

At the first sharp turn, you winced as Heeseung’s car spun slightly, leaving angry black lines on the road before he zoomed off again. Mingyu wasn’t far behind, though he took the turn slower than Heeseung had. Heeseung’s drift halted his momentum, allowing Mingyu to pull ahead. Beside you, you heard Jungwon breathe in deeply, but you paid no heed to it.

By the second turn, Heeseung had caught up but was still slightly behind. As Mingyu turned, his back tire bumped against the curb, slowing him down ever so slightly. You didn’t let yourself relax, even when Heeseung drove ahead. It looked like he was going even faster than before, evident by the numerous track marks he was leaving at each turn.

The race went on similarly, with Heeseung pulling ahead only for Mingyu to overtake him and vice versa. As they neared the last turn, you were able to hear the sound of shifting gears and engines that roared impossibly louder. Suddenly, the crowd around you began dispersing, the people filtering through the nearby alleyways like rats. 

You turned to Jungwon, who looked panicked. “Cops,” he ushered, turning to leave. “If they catch us here, we’re done for.” He grabbed at your arm. You hesitated, looking back at the screen just in time to see Heeseung spin out. Just then, you saw the flashing lights of a cop car near them.

“But, what about—”

Jungwon shook his head. “Heeseung knows what to do, don’t worry. But he will kill me if he finds out I let you get nabbed by the police, so let’s go.” You spared one last glance at the screen, relieved to see Heeseung get back onto the track. Biting your lip in worry, you allowed Jungwon to drag you away.

You hid in his car, parked a few blocks away. Jungwon was quick to pull up the drone feed onto his phone—how, you weren’t sure—but by the time he had it on, both Heeseung’s car and Mingyu’s car were nowhere to be seen. After a minute, the drone footage turned off completely, leaving you and Jungwon in the silence of his car. You could still hear the blaring police sirens in the distance.

“You think he’s okay?” you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungwon offered you a kind smile, though it did nothing to ease your nerves. “Don’t worry about Heeseung. He’s been doing this longer than any of us have. If anyone knows how to win a race while evading the cops, it’s him.”

“But don’t you think he would’ve said something by now if he got away?” you asked, the results of the race far in the back of your mind. “What if they actually caught him and arrested him?”

Jungwon shrugged. He was worried about his friend, of course, but his worry seemed minute compared to yours. “You have money, don’t you? Bail him out.”

You resisted the urge to lunge at Jungwon with closed fists. “Won, if he goes to jail, his father will find out, and he—”

A knock at the passenger side window made you jump. You turned quickly, relief washing over your body as you met eyes with a smug-looking Heeseung. You quickly got out of the car, wrapping your arms around Heeseung’s neck as you hugged him tightly. “Never do that to me again,” you gasped, burying your face into his shirt.

Heeseung chuckled, pressing a kiss against your forehead. He looked at Jungwon through the windshield, smiling at him in quiet thanks. You ignored the sound of Jungwon’s car pulling away from the curb, never taking your face out from the nook of his neck.

“Were you worried about me or something?”

You finally moved back, glaring weakly at Heeseung. “Or something?” you echoed, scoffing. “Or something—the absolute gall of men. Of course, I was worried!” You smacked his shoulder, frowning at him as he held the area, pretending as though you had mortally wounded him. “Jungwon pulled me away just as you spun out near the end, and the cops were right behind you and—”

Heeseung interrupted you with a kiss, cupping your jaw tenderly as he moved closer. He rested on hand on your hip, rubbing shapes into your skin under the hoodie as he kissed you gently. You sighed, all the tension escaping your body as you kissed back, relishing in the way his lips caressed yours.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. “I should have told you that happens sometimes. The guys and I have a protocol in case the cops show up, but with everything that happened before the show, I guess I forgot.”

You hummed. That must have been how he found you and Jungwon so quickly. “It’s fine. Just don’t… don’t ever scare me like that.”

Heeseung smiled at you, kissing your forehead lightly. “It’s like you love me or something,” he said jokingly. Something in his eyes said he cared more than he was letting on, his dark brown hues flitting back and forth as he tried to read your expression.

When you said nothing in response, only looking away bashfully, a wide grin overtook Heeseung’s features. Capturing you in one more deep kiss, he pulled away with a giddy expression. “I love you too, baby,” he whispered hoarsely. You felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, his intense yet loving gaze making you feel weak to the knees.

Pulling away, much to your displeasure, Heeseung straightened out your hoodie and flattened your tousled hair. “Come on, I have a surprise for you.”

You frowned, but you let him tug you along the empty streets. “Hee, I don’t know how many surprises I can stomach tonight.”

Heeseung only laughed, not replying to you as he pulled you down an alleyway. You were wary but trusted him enough that you didn’t say anything about the sketchy route he was taking you down. Once you emerged on the other side of the alley, you were shocked to see his red car. Behind it was Mingyu’s black Cadillac. 

It took a second for you to process what you were seeing, but when you turned to look at Heeseeung, he held up a pair of keys that you knew didn’t belong to his car. “You won?” you gasped, grinning with pride as you inspected the keys closer. 

Heeseung scoffed, pressing a button on the fob. Immediately, the headlights of Mingyu’s car flashed, confirming your thoughts. You squealed in excitement, hugging him tightly. “What,” he laughed, holding you with one arm. “You didn’t believe me?”

You stuck your tongue out at him, scrunching your nose. “Of course I did, but I was a little preoccupied.”

His gaze softened as he leaned in to peck your lips. You chased him as he pulled away, cheeks flushing warmly when Heeseung grinned shamelessly at you. “Get in the backseat.”

You paused. “The backseat? Why—”

Heeseung urged you backwards toward the car, taking your lips once more. “Just get in,” he rasped, opening the door for you. You were quick to follow his words, quickly bombarded with Heeseung’s deep and slow kisses as he closed the door behind him.

He crawled over you, moaning your name lowly as you dragged a nail down his front. Once you reached the belt buckle, you ran a finger over the cold metal slowly. “Stop teasing,” he gasped when you lightly traced over the outline in his pants. 

For once, you listened, and quickly unbuckled the belt, flicking the button of his pants open and pushing them down enough for you to grab at his hardening length. He hissed, the vague sound of your name spilling from his lips as he lurched forward.

Gently, you pushed him back until he was sitting and got on your knees between his thick thighs. It wasn’t comfortable by any means, the back of the car left very little room for you to sit comfortably, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care with the way Heeseung’s cock twitched needily in your hand or the way his angry red tip oozed precum.

You looked up at him through your lashes as you leaned forward, licking at the mushroom tip lightly. He groaned, throwing his head back against the seat. Relishing in his reaction, you took his length between your lips, sucking him gently. His hips twitched, forcing his dick further into your mouth and making you gag.

“Shit, sorry,” he rushed, straightening to take himself out of your mouth. You quickly pushed his worrying hands away, taking him deeper in your mouth defiantly. His mouth fell as he let out a loud groan, your name on the tip of his tongue. He watched closely as you bobbed your head up and down, slowly thrusting to meet your movements.

You reached down to grab at his balls, massaging them in tandem with your head movements. The way you swirled your tongue around his length had Heeseung gasping for air. His thrusts grew more aggressive; a hand reached to cup the back of your head, keeping you in place as he fucked into your wet cavern relentlessly.

Heeseung caressed his knuckles against the length of your hollowed cheeks with a gentleness that contrasted his thrusts. Tears burned your eyes, the back of your throat sore from his abuse. The sound of wet slick and choking gasps almost rivalled your heartbeat as you stared up at the man.

“Fuck,” he breathed out in a whine, head thrown back against the leather seats as he groaned loudly. “Fuck, fuck, baby, you’re taking me so fucking well.” His lips parted, and ruby red lipstick smudged over his visage, staining the silver lip ring. Heeseung’s jaw dropped as you swallowed around his cock, a series of long, winded whines coming from the back of his throat.

“Shit, princess. Gonna make me cum,” he warned you, dropping his head down to look at you through hooded eyes. His newly dyed black hair fell over his irises, obscuring them from view. His face pinched in pleasure as he lifted his hips against your plush lips. “You’ll take it for me, yeah? Swallow every last drop like the good little whore you are.” His nails dug into your scalp.

You pressed your thighs together, the carpet floor of the backseat rubbing harshly against your bare knees. The dress you’d worn, a little black number that you picked out just for Heeseung, had ridden up to your waist. The fabric bunched prettily around your hips, showing off that you had forgone undergarments.

He watched you breathlessly, eyes darting from your teary eyes to the way your little mouth took him so well. He didn't miss the way you tried to covertly rub yourself, thighs moving slowly—a futile attempt to feel something against your aching clit.

His cock twitched against your tongue as you licked at a jutting vein, a perfectly manicured hand coming up to cup his aching balls. He watched tenderly as you switched from suckling on his angry red tip to taking his length fully, your nose tickling against his happy trail. His thrusts grew wild, a loss in rhythm suggesting he was close.

“Gonna paint your mouth white, baby,” he hissed, tugging at your matted strands. “God, you look so pretty covered in my cum. Wanna make a mess out of you so bad. You want that, don’t you? Want me to make you look messy, baby—fuck! You like getting fucked like this in another man’s car?” An almost pornographic moan escaped his throat as his grip on your hair tightened. “Such a little slut. Getting on your knees for me like this. I bet Mingyu couldn’t fuck you this well,” he thrust harshly into your mouth as he uttered the other man’s name, anger pulling his brows together tightly.

You whined, your muffled tone vibrating against his dick. He cried out your name, low moans tumbling from his pretty lips as he came, shooting hot and thick ropes of cum down your throat. You blinked away tears, a burning sensation left behind as he pulled his length out from your mouth. Spurts of cum spilled from his tip, and you lolled your tongue out as Heeseung dragged it over your face.

His chest heaved as he stared at you, adoringly as though he was admiring his art. “Fucking hell,” he hushed, tugging you impatiently onto his lap. You fell clumsily against him, legs bumbling to straddle his small waist. You moaned in unison when your dripping core rubbed against his cum and saliva-coated cock, your hips twitching in anticipation.

Heeseung sighed out your name against your lips as he cupped your cheek with a large hand, not caring that his release was getting everywhere. The coolness of his rings made you shiver as he pulled you in for a kiss. His mouth moved against yours slowly, his tongue flicking out against your lip. His kiss was hot and wet, his tongue caressing yours in a way that made you crumble atop his lap. 

“Fuck, baby,” he spoke against your lips, a dazed look in his eyes as he bore into you. Heeseung’s hips weakly thrust upward, pressing his wet cock against your core. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

At his confession, not the first of the night, you teared up. He wiped away your tears, bringing you in for another kiss as he guided his sensitive length to your entrance. He cried out in a whimper against your lips as he felt your hot walls clench around him. 

“I love you,” he whispered again drunkenly as you fully bottomed out, the stickiness of his previous orgasm coating the underside of your thighs. You kissed him desperately, uttering those three words back to him as he held your waist tightly. 

Your night had just started, and with the way Heeseung wasted no time in fucking into you roughly, you knew it’d be a long one.

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©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

[pressureplus]

Ok ok hear me out.. what if, you did a part two of “Reflection” but the reader finally gets to read Sebastian’s document? And kinda sees how similar they look. It’s kinda dumb because it wouldn’t really much to write about but it’s just a thought 😭

No no, don't apologize. I can work with anything as long as its got 1 sentence or three descriptive words and a vibe! I can easily make you a part two!

Doppelganger

Pairing: Sebastian Solace x Fem!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: N/A

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟ ◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

At last you purchased that damn document of his. It had sat on his desk almost teasingly out of your hands. A previous attempt to grab it had ended with his hand pressed over the classified file and a smile. His words spoken slow, as though you were stupid, as he explained that you certainly didn’t have enough for that. Now you could finally touch it all you want. A part of you was feeling a bit sassy when you snatched it right off his desk proudly. The thousand data pieces you just sold to him being shuffled away. You ignored that, for the most part, more focused on finally getting your hands around the classified information you’d been curious about. Finally popping open the file to see what it is he’s been leaving on his desk, you’re met with tons of information. A few pictures falling out that you don’t quite manage to catch.

You ignore them, taking a seat in Sebastian’s shop as he moves around the room, shuffling different pieces of paperwork and chips into places. His hands reaching up for the vents above his head and tugging out a few spare pieces of equipment. You can hear him opening the packs her wanders around with, attaching things to the straps around his body. You choose to ignore that for now. Instead choosing to read the file in front of you. Your eyes scan over the first line, catching onto three things at once. His technical experiment name, his codename, and finally his legal name. Your eyes scanned each individual word quietly. The shuffling in the background not particularly drawing any of your attention. There’s that shoot to kill statement you’ve heard a thousand times before. You’re starting to understand why he’s so aggressive. You’d be pretty pissed too if you were an experiment gone wrong, especially if you hadn’t even done the crime you were accused of.

At last you shut the file, eyes being drawn back to the images now laying on the ground. You scoop them both up. In your hands is an image of current Sebastian, larger and aggressive. He looks damn near ready to shoot the camera. On the other image…you. No wait, not you? His jawline is a bit sharper and he’s got a scar on his face but he looks so much like you. Honestly, it’s a bit shaking. A mugshot that isn’t yours but looks so much like you. The more you stare at it the more begins to make sense to you. The dots connecting on why his reaction to your face was so aggressive. Why he tends to almost stare a little too long. You thought it was because he found you ugly, or because he was trying to grieve the death of a loved one. In some ways, you suppose, he is. He’ll never have this face again. He’ll never be able to see himself properly in the mirror and he certainly wasn’t the innocent man accused of a crime he didn’t commit anymore. How many people had he killed trying to get what was necessary to escape? How human was he anymore, without his face, without his body. Was it human desperation, or animal?

“You never told me you were so pretty.” You joke as Sebastian jolts. It seems he’d gotten so wrapped up in adjusting things that he hadn’t even realized you were still in here. His eyes flick from your face down to your hands. You turn the picture of him around, pointing at it. This only seems to make him mildly uncomfortable as he looks away with a huff.

“Could you not have opened that anywhere else?”

“Sorry…it’s just…you really are handsome.”

“I was, I guess. That was a long time ago now quite obviously.” He slithers closer, scooping up his file and taking the pictures back. He’s careful to push them back into the titled document before shutting it. Then and only then does he hand the folder back to you.

“You still are, maybe you look a little different now, but you’re still very pretty.”

“That’s not a funny thing to joke about.”

“I’m being serious, Sebastian. You’re pretty with or without a human face. Even if this one isn’t really ideal…I still think you look great.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve still got yours intact.”

“If it’s too painful to look at, I can fix that by wearing my helmet all the time? I just want you to be comfortable. I want you to know that even if you’re not human anymore that doesn’t make you…a monster.” He hesitates, the words sinking into his skin. He’s quiet for a good while before sighing. His hand coming up to his face to drag downward, a display of his exhaustion.

“Just…get out. Take your folder, your batteries, and go back to getting that crystal.”

[babyblue711]

Surrender

(Modern AU) Aegon II Targaryen x Female!Reader x Aemond Targaryen- Part 3 (Read Part 2 Here) Summary: After things get spicy, you begin to doubt your ability to handle the sexual appetites of these Targaryen brothers after all. Words: 3.8K

Warnings: NSFW, Sexual Content 18+, Smut, Language, Alcohol, Threesome, P in V, Anal, Oral, basically everything, very very soft Dom/Sub vibes A/N: As I contemplated what to write in Part 3, I realized that I really just wanted to finish what I started in Part 2! It is not necessary to re-read all of part 2, but would probably be helpful to pick back up here. The last few paragraphs are already included as a refresher (sorry this took me forever to get out y'all). I hope you enjoy! 🔥

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Come now,” Aegon whispers against your lips, “You didn’t really think we would be done with you already, did you?” His hand moves up to tightly grip your thigh around his hip, holding you in place as Aemond starts slowly inserting a digit into your ass, causing you to moan and arch your back, unfamiliar with this new intrusion.

“Hmm,” Aemond hums appreciatively, nibbling on your earlobe as Aegon watches your face. The pressure is mounting as Aemond pushes his thumb into your ass and realization dawns that they are far from finished with you. They aren’t going to stop until every last bit of you is sore from stretching around their thick cocks repeatedly; their intention to possess you both at the same time becomes abundantly clear as Aemond works to open your tight puckered hole and you know they’ll continue to cover your body in bite marks, hickeys, and bruises, effectively marking you as their own. They haven’t even begun to truly consume you yet. 

“Yes, sweet girl,” says Aemond, an authoritative edge to his tone, “We’re just getting started.” 

He says it like a promise, one that brooks no argument, and it sends a shiver down your spine. 

Your brain goes into overdrive; what did you get yourself into? Caught up in Aegon’s snare the entire week, now you are questioning if he has somehow masterminded this whole affair; to get you into bed with both of them, to use your body for their own sexual exploitation. The brothers seem so natural around each other in this setting that you can’t help but wonder if they’ve done this before. You didn’t even think to set boundaries with them; you trusted them, you built connections with them, you thought that was enough to keep you safe. However, behind closed doors, their animalistic desires are overtaking their normal gentle natures and they both are easily giving in to their primal needs; you are beginning to feel as though your tryst is quickly spiraling out of control. 

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out; your thoughts are too clouded from champagne, from exhilaration, from exhaustion, from fear. Your body stops cooperating as Aemond tries to insert another finger into your ass, causing you to yelp in pain and clamp down even more tightly on his thumb. You attempt to wiggle away, but Aegon has you securely locked in his arms as your heart thumps wildly in your chest. Aemond chuckles behind you. 

“You’ve never taken a cock in here, have you?” he asks, amused, and you shake your head no, hoping maybe they’ll show you some mercy. He sighs, removing his thumb and gets up from the bed, the soft padding of his footsteps on the hardwood floors tells you that he’s exited the room. Where is he going? Is he done? Is that it? Thoughts race through your mind, but Aegon grips you even tighter, as if expecting you to try to get away now that Aemond isn’t there to block your exit. 

Crushing you against him, he leans down to whisper against your lips, “You’re such an animal in bed, I never imagined you’d have a virgin asshole.” He smirks at you and his blue eyes seem to smolder with dark intensity and, before you can think of a response, you feel the bed sink down as Aemond returns.

“Switch me,” Aegon practically growls at Aemond, releasing you from his stronghold to maneuver behind you while Aemond goes to the bathroom to wash his hands. You glance over your shoulder to see Aegon picking up the small bottle that Aemond left behind, snapping open the lid with his thumb.

Recognizing the brand, you immediately know what this bottle contains: lube and it’s obvious what it’s going to be used for. Were you ready for this? You feel as though you are standing on the edge of a precipice and doubt seeps into your mind as you realize their intentions are exceeding what you initially thought you had agreed to. Irrational fear blooms in your chest, constricting your airway, and you lose your head completely, springing up from the bed as soon as Aegon seems distracted by the bottle. With no time to grab clothes, you dash towards the bedroom door, inwardly cursing the vastness of the room in your mind as you go.

“Hey - !” Aegon exclaims, but you don’t stop, don’t look back, the door is an arms length away, you can almost taste freedom as you reach for the handle, you’re almost there, before a strong arm snakes around your chest and yanks you back while covering your mouth with a large hand. 

You shriek from shock as Aemond swings you bodily away from the door, but his hand is clamped so hard on your mouth all that comes out is a muffled yelp that nobody else in the house could hope to hear. Your attempts to struggle are quickly subdued by Aemond’s iron grip. Aegon is still on the bed, having not moved a muscle, a devilish grin on his lips as he watches you thrash in Aemond’s arms. 

“Going somewhere?” Aemond snarls into your ear as he heaves you back over to the bed, taking hold of your hair at the nape of your neck and twisting your arm behind your back until tears spring into your eyes. Feeling like your arm might snap if pushed any further, you have no choice but to comply as he marches you back over to the bed. Aegon slinks over to the edge where Aemond is holding you tightly; his hot breath pants into your face as he makes a tsk sound with his tongue.

“Now, we don’t want to have to tie you up, babygirl, but if you try to run again, we won’t have a choice,” his voice drips with feigned softness, his eyes are like flints of steel as he boops you on the nose cheerfully like he is doing you a kindness. “It’s up to you if this hurts or not.”

You notice the way his dark eyes drink in your vulnerability, trapped by Aemond. Your throat is exposed by his grip on your hair and your heart thunders in your chest. Without warning, Aegon twists your nipples harshly, and you cry out in pain, back arching, but wetness inexplicably starts to form between your thighs; the thrill of the chase has excited you more than you had even anticipated. 

He continues to torment your breasts for a few moments as Aemond’s mouth clamps down on your neck, trailing bite marks to your shoulder. Helpless against their delicious assault, your eyes close and a low moan escapes your lips, until you feel Aegon running a finger through your folds, only to find you wet and wanting. 

“I think our sweet girl likes pain,” his voice thrums with excitement when he feels your arousal, his gaze flicking to Aemond who hums low in his chest. With his knee, Aemond widens your stance, allowing Aegon better access to your core as he begins to pleasure your bud with tight, fast circles. Aemond’s cock is rock hard against your hip, precum leaking from the top as he watches what Aegon does to you. Your core clenches with electric intensity and your knees buckle, only Aemond’s hold keeps you upright. You’re almost about to cum again when Aegon notices the flutter of your velvet walls and he withdraws his hand, shaking his head, chuckling. 

“Oh no, we can’t let you cum just yet. Aemond, what else should her punishment be for trying to run?” He poses the question to his brother with the air as one might ask about the weather, but his expression is hungry as he watches you pant, still locked in Aemond’s arms. 

“Oh, I can think of a few things,” Aemond growls and he moves you to the left of Aegon, releasing you at last and you cry out in relief as pins and needles shoot through your arm as the circulation returns. You don’t have a moment to catch your breath before a strong hand bends you over the bed, holding you down between your shoulder blades and administering a sharp slap to your ass. Face stuffed into the soft bedding, you yelp and try to jerk away from him, but he’s too strong and he slaps you again, harder this time time, so hard you know you’ll have a hand printed bruise on your tender skin. 

“Are you ready to behave now?” Aemond commands, deep in his chest, his hand rubbing the stinging skin of your ass. You pant and manage a breathless “yes,” and he releases his hold between your shoulders, but you know better than to move. You feel Aemond running the head of his cock through your dripping folds from behind, grunting in appreciation. 

“So wet,” he murmurs appreciatively before roughly inserting himself inside of you, pumping furiously a few times before backing out completely. You groan at the loss of fullness and momentarily confused by his exit until he administers yet another sharp slap, this time right on your throbbing cunt. You cry aloud, knees giving out completely and you almost fall if not for Aegon grasping under your arms and hauling you onto the bed with him. 

A wicked smile on his face, Aegon whispers in your ear. “Suck on Aemond’s cock for me, babygirl,” and he shoves you back in Aemond’s direction, who is still standing by the edge of the bed, his thick girth glistening from your arousal. 

The brothers' attentions are eliciting the desired response from you, as your sensitive center pulsates and your mind recalibrates toward your own primal desires; you find yourself succumbing to their allure once again; your pupils are blown wide, filled with need, with lust, with longing.

You crawl to Aemond on all fours, face level with his girth and it swings heavily in front of you as he grasps it, tapping it against your bottom lip, waiting for you to open your mouth. But you realized that part of the fun is in the refusal, so you keep your mouth tightly shut, instead gazing up at him with big doe eyes, daring him to make you.

His eye narrows as he waits, his patience thin, ready for some more action. But he quickly notices the glint in your eye, realizing your game, but doesn’t play so gently back. He grasps your jaw in a firm grip and squeezes, so you have no choice but to open your mouth and he seizes his opportunity to push forward, a grim smirk on his lips as he watches you swallow his cock, removing his grip on your face so you can open your mouth wider to take him. He grabs you by the hair and pushes deeper, choking you, making your eyes water, barely giving you time to breath before he starts to fuck your mouth. He goes so deep that his pubic hair tickles your nose and you try desperately to breathe while tasting your own arousal on your tongue. Whimpering at his brutal speed, you try your best to take him as best you can without gagging as tears stream from your eyes, but Aemond doesn’t let up. 

Simultaneously, Aegon manages to slither in between your legs, pushing your hips down so you are practically sitting on his face as he eats your pussy in the similar manner to the way you are now eating Aemond’s cock. You grip Aemond’s thick girth with one hand, mainly to stop your own suffocation as Aegon’s tongue pushes into your entrance, eliciting a low moan in the back of your throat, causing Aemond to grunt from the vibration. You lose track of time, losing yourself in the pleasure of Aegon devouring you with his tongue while you suck harshly on Aemond’s cock with renewed enthusiasm.

Without warning, another orgasm crashes over you, deep from within, and you grind down onto Aegon’s face as you ride the waves, not caring if you are smothering him. His arms encircle your legs and he holds you tightly, lapping every last drop of your cunt until your legs stop shaking from ecstacy. Aemond watches you unravel with a hungry intensity and, as you come down from your high, he backs his cock out of your mouth. 

“We need to reposition,” he commands at Aegon, who emerges from underneath you, panting slightly, his own cock erect against his belly, clearly turned on by giving you so much pleasure. Aegon nods in agreement as Aemond climbs onto the bed and lays on his back right in the center.

“Go ride Aemond’s cock for me, babygirl,” Aegon orders and you whine, still so sensitive from your recent orgasm. You crawl over top of Aemond and he immediately lines himself up with your entrance, pushing your hips down gently to sink onto him. You mewl pathetically as Aemond pulls you flush against his chest, pumping in and out of you slowly. You lick the skin of his neck, peppering him with kisses, softly scraping your teeth against his jaw line as pleasure zings through your core while his thick cock massages your velvet walls.  

From behind, you hear the familiar snap of the lube bottle and hear Aegon shuffling over to where you lay on top of Aemond and this time you feel ready to take them both; you need to have them both at once. You moan as you feel a sudden coolness right on your puckered hole and Aegon gets to work, inserting his thumb slowly as Aemond rocks into you from below, grinding against your sensitive bud.  

“You’ll need to relax or it’ll only hurt more,” Aemond whispers to you, caressing your face, his demeanor now gentle, the complete opposite of the way he was fucking your mouth just a few short moments ago. You grunt as you feel Aegon insert another finger into your ass, the pressure mounting, as you pant into Aemond’s face and whine. 

“Shhh, focus on me,” Aemond whispers before adding, “he’s done this before,” as if to hope to pacify your fears. You bury your face into Aemond’s neck, hands gripping the sheets around his head and groan as you feel Aegon push the head of his cock against your tight hole and slowly, inch by inch, he sinks deeper into your body.

Aemond stills as he waits for Aegon to enter you, murmuring soft words of encouragement in your ear. At last, Aegon is flush against your ass while Aemond is buried deep inside your pussy and you think full is an understatement. Never before had you felt so stuffed as you try to get adjusted to the sensation of both of them inside of you. You’re breathing heavily, face still buried against Aemond’s neck.  

“So fucking tight,” Aegon huffs and begins to move languidly, taking his time and not rushing, being more gentle than you had expected him to be. Just as slowly, Aemond starts to thrust in sync with Aegon. After a few moments, their rhythm starts to feel good as you relax and adjust to the exquisite feeling of fullness, letting the pleasure consume you.

Almost as if they share one mind, the brothers pick up the pace at the same time, causing you to moan even louder than you normally do, so overwhelmed by both. They fuck you mercilessly and you feel nothing more than a rag doll, being torn apart by these two apex predators. Working together in tandem, you are overwhelmed by their deep stimulation as tension coils in your belly once more, knowing that this climax will completely be your undoing. You pant and whine loudly without restraint right into Aemond’s ear and soon start mumbling desperate, filthy words, your telltale sign you’re about to cum. 

“Cum for us again, you little slut,” Aegon growls, picking up on your cues, hips audibly slapping against your ass with the force of his thrusts and he holds your hips steady with a bruising grip. You can hear his own labored breathing as Aemond pants from below you, his chest is slick with sweat and you slide a bit on top of him as the two men ride you.

You let out a strangled yell when your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave as you’re pounded straight into oblivion; you swear you see stars and your vision goes black. Aemond grunts as your pussy clenches tightly around him like a vice and he continues to furiously chase his own release until his hips stutter and his cock pulsates deep in your pussy just as Aegon finishes with a guttural groan and spills himself deep in your ass. 

As the three of you descend from your high, you remain joined for a moment, panting heavily, and utterly spent. Aegon retreats first, pulling his softening cock from your ass and watching his cum leak from your wide hole. You feel him hop off the bed, but you continue to lay and pant on Aemond’s chest, not having the strength to move. Where you once felt so full, you now feel so empty, but also blessedly relieved. 

Aemond waits for a moment before gently lifting you off of him and depositing you on the bed where you don’t move, trying to regain your breath, limbs twitching as little jolts of electricity still zing from your core. Double penetration had resulted in the best and longest orgasm of your life; you hadn’t expected the experience to have felt so good, but you knew you would be immensely sore in the morning. 

Dimly, you hear the brothers shuffling around the room, talking softly and feeling thankful they are getting ready to leave soon. You must even doze briefly, the sounds of running water in the bathroom almost instantly putting you to sleep. Unexpectedly, a gentle touch rouses you from your half-sleep and you crack an eye open to see it’s Aemond.

“Come with me?” he asks softly and you cannot even summon the energy to move; what does he want now? 

“Aemond, I’m too tired,” you try to say but he doesn’t take no for an answer, scooping you up and carrying you towards the bathroom. 

In the large jacuzzi tub that dominates your bathroom, a hot bath has been run for you and Aegon is already soaking in the bubbles. Carefully, Aemond sets you down into the water opposite Aegon, and you whimper when the heat hits your soreness. Aemond settles in behind you, cradling you against his chest, and begins to lather you with a sponge.

Aegon watches for a moment before reaching into the water and finding your foot and starts to gently massage. You can't help but moan as you completely unwind under their attentive care. Aemond shifts to rub your neck and shoulders, while Aegon tends to your legs and feet. You hadn’t expected this level of pampering and appreciate their sweet sincerity, even after feeling quite objectified just moments ago. 

“Do you feel ok?” Aemond hums gently, his chin on your shoulder as he embraces you from behind. 

“Better now,” you murmur, your eyes heavily lidded, soothed by the warmth of the water and their tender care. 

“You did such a great job,” Aegon compliments, “Your ass was amazing, Aemond will have to try it out next time,” he continues matter-of-factly. 

Next time? Would there be a next time? Did you want to do this again? You are too tired to even contemplate this statement and just let his comment slide as you finish your bath. 

Aegon exits your room promptly after drying off from the bath, planting a swift kiss on your forehead before taking his leave, but Aemond opts to spend the night with you. Dressed in only his boxers, he throws back the covers and invites you to cuddle next to him in the bed; you nestle into his chest as he exhales softly against your hair and you fall asleep instantly, awakening the next morning still wrapped in his arms. 

The first rays of light are filtering in through the large windows and you can tell by his breathing that Aemond is already awake, though neither of you make an attempt to speak just yet. Groggily, you reflect back on the eventful evening, feeling like it was all one big fever dream, and only the soreness between your legs tells you that it actually really happened. Aemond rubs your side absentmindedly and you stretch like a cat, enjoying the warmth of his hand on your skin. 

“I have to leave to catch my flight soon,” he whispers in your ear, kissing your neck gently.

“Hmm,” you murmur, as you scoot your butt back into him, feeling his hard length against your ass. You lift your leg, inviting him in, and his fingertips glide over the slickness of your velvet folds.  

It’s all the confirmation he needs as he eases into you slowly as you both lay on your sides. You hiss in pain as your pussy stretches around him, still so sore from the night before, but undeniable pleasure pulses through your core as his cock rubs against the spongy spot deep inside your tight heat. You turn your head to kiss him deeply as he slowly fucks you into another mindblowing peak, his name on your lips when you shatter around him. You never would have used the word “lovemaking” when you were with Aegon, but with Aemond, there wasn’t any other way to describe your morning sex session other than tender, attentive, and loving. Afterwards, when he pulls his softening cock out of you, you find that you ache for the connection again, feeling complete only when he is inside of you. 

“I’ll let you know when I get to New York,” he whispers, cradling your face and locking eyes with you for a final, lingering kiss before leaving your room. 

You sigh contentedly, remaining in bed, basking in the warmth and comfort, wrapped in the soft sheets. The remnants of his release linger between your thighs, and you know you need to get up to start your day soon since you and Helaena are scheduled to depart for London in a few hours.

Your mind wanders back to Aegon, and a sense of conflict stirs within you. You're torn between the chaotic, exhilarating energy of Aegon and the quieter yet intensely compelling nature of Aemond. Would Aegon feel let down if you chose his brother instead? And what about Aemond—would he be bothered by the notion of being with someone after his brother? He certainly didn’t seem to mind a few moments ago…

What if they desire a repeat of last night's activities? Would that become your new thing? 

Your contentment is quickly turning into frustration as you muse over these complicated Targaryen boys who harbor unusual sexual appetites: sharing a mate between them. You have never heard such a thing until now and are rapidly realizing how challenging it will be to resume "normalcy" after your time at the Targaryen family estate. 

A/N: I, for one, already feel confident that I'll never feel "normal" after Season 2 of HOTD 🔥 Been down bad for a long time now. Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always welcome! 💙

Tags: @rhaenyslay, @elizarbell , @aemondsscar, @peonamay, @cyeco13, @quinnquinn317, @multyfangirl, @myfandomprompts , @thekinslayed, @pandemonium105, @fan-goddess , @vencuyot, @boundlessfantasy @darylandbethfanforever9 @silentwhisper666 @watercolorskyy , @darktrashsoulbear, @gemini-mama

[prythianpages]

Cruel, Wicked Thing | Eris x Reader

summary: you are betrothed to Sawyer Vanserra yet that doesn't stop the eldest Vanserra from wanting you.

warnings: I can't really think of anything? this isn't really fluff or angst, just eris longing. slow burn maybe?

a/n: this can be read as a stand alone imagine but it's a part two to this. I intended the second part to be something else but then I ended up writing this scene and it didn't really fit the vibes I was going with so I decided to just post it separately.

As Eris steps out into the courtyard gardens, his gaze is immediately drawn to you. You’re seated upon one of the stone benches that faces the grand water fountain, the one where he first met you. His steps slow, compelled to take in the sight of you. The sun’s light filters through the clouds, caressing your features with a golden glow as you delicately turn the pages of a book. A gentle breeze rustles through the Autumn trees, creating a ballet of falling leaves and causing loose strands of your hair to dance in the air. As the wind carries the sweet scent of rose and honey to him, Eris inhales deeply.

Among the fluttering leaves, a single one lands atop your head, a delicate crown bestowed by nature itself. Yet, you remain unaware. You’re completely lost to the realm of literature in your lap. The same way Eris is lost in you.

He wonders if he should turn and walk the other way. Much like he has done in the weeks that you’ve moved into the Forest house. He doesn’t want to avoid you but the magnetic pull you exert is thrilling yet fear-inducing. So he's resorted to studying you from afar. He knows you enjoy walking around the gardens, reading and hanging around the stables. He knows you well enough to know you don't belong in a cruel court such as this one.

Yet, the Cauldron has unequivocally marked you as someone special to him and he finds himself wary of the potential depth of affection you might set ablaze within his guarded heart. It’s laughable, how someone as sweet and pure as you is so dangerous to him.

You are engaged to his younger brother, Sawyer. And Eris? He’s engaged in the delicate balance of playing the role of the perfect son—perfect heir—all while conspiring against his own father. He cannot afford to harbor any weakness nor does he want to drag you into the depths of his hell. 

But as he looks around the gardens, he confirms there’s no one else around. He then decides to indulge himself, even if only for a little bit.

As he walks toward you, he deliberately steps on the fallen leaves, allowing them to crunch under his boot. The intentional sound announces his approach and has you looking up. Your eyes widen in surprise as you sit up straight.

“Lord Eris.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and he greets you with the same formality. “Lady y/n.”

His fingers reach out to delicately pluck an orange leaf from the crown of your head. The touch lingers longer than necessary, and “accidentally,” his hand brushes against the softness of your cheek as he lowers it. The lingering contact leaves you slightly flustered, a soft blush creeping up on your face—a reaction he takes delight in.

“I’m surprised you haven’t run away,” he remarks.

Eris knows the past three weeks have been rough for you. He’s not only seen it as you chased Sawyer, your unfortunate husband to be, like a lost puppy but he’s also felt it. On occasion, he sends one of his hounds, Clover, to cheer you up. Even the vicious little creature has fallen victim to you, revealing a softer side in your presence. One she normally only shows Eris.

Your father, a busy and highly esteemed merchant, departed as soon as he signed your marriage contract, leaving you to navigate the Autumn Court alone. Sawyer barely gives you the time of day. It’s a double edged sword because though Sawyer is content with neglecting you, he is the lesser evil of his three remaining brothers. 

Sawyer’s disinterest for you, however, often leaves you vulnerable to his two other brothers, Hunter and Oliver. Hunter, who much like his name, always has a thirst and desire to give chase to anything that isn’t his and Oliver–well, Oliver lusts after anything with two legs. The thought of them touching you–hurting you–sends a fire to course through his veins. It reaches his hand, small flames emerging from his fingertips and the leaf in his hand succumbs to ashes. He brushes them off, feigning nonchalance, grateful that you're unfazed.

With a deft motion, you dog-ear the page you were on before closing your book and gracefully rising to your feet. Upon realizing his attention drifting to the book in your hands, you swiftly hide it behind your back. 

“Why would I run away? Maybe, I’m right where I want to be.”

As his gaze lifts to meet yours, a flicker of surprise and curiosity dances in his amber eyes. Bold words. Unlike you. Despite your hands held behind your back, the subtle nervous twitch of your arm muscles is not lost on him.

“But you’re unhappy,” Eris says and he almost expects the emotions churning within you to come to surface. For you to agree. For you to complain. He leans in closer to you, willing to listen.

You do none of that, though. Instead, you force a smile onto your face. One that fails to reach your eyes. "I'm very happy.”

 “Well, you’re very convincing.” 

“And you’re very nosey.” 

Eris lets out an exhale through his nose and you shrink back, worried you have offended him. The small smirk that lifts the corner of his lips soothes your concern. “I kind of have to be, angel. This is my court and I am to rule over it someday. It is my duty to be aware of everything that goes on.”

“Perhaps, I should start with finding out what had you so captivated earlier.”  Eris adds, eyeing the book you continue to conceal behind your back.

You take a step back, fingers tightening against your book but it’s useless. In a heartbeat, the book disappears from your grasp and reappears in Eris’s thanks to his magic. He holds it up in a taunting manner and you’re running after him.

“Eris!”

A spark ignites in his amber eyes as he recognizes the title, and a chuckle escapes him at your adorable yet desperate attempt to reach for the book. He holds it higher, taking full advantage of his height.

“You shock me, angel. I didn't pin you to be the type to read–”

“Please give it back.” 

Eris pauses for a moment in deep contemplation. You are asking so nicely–begging, more like it. But he finds that he likes the way you’re madly blushing at him too much. He shakes the urge to give into your puppy dog eyes. “I don’t think so…shall I start reading where you left off, hmm?”

Panic flashes in your wide eyes as you desperately lunge forward to retrieve your book. However, Eris's quick reflexes had him turning away, causing you to trip over the pavestone. With Eris's body no longer there to block your path, you found yourself tumbling into the water fountain with a loud splash.

The water is cold and has you gasping, goosebumps rising on your skin. You lift your gaze and though you glare at him, he finds it adorable. Absolutely endearing. He tilts his head back in laughter and the sound softens your gaze.

Eris is still laughing when you hold out your hand to him expectantly. “What?”

Your eyebrows knit together in disbelief. “Aren’t you going to be a gentleman and offer me your hand?”

Unspoken desires stir within him as he gazes at your outstretched hand. In his eyes, there's a subtle ache, a silent wish to offer you more than just his hand. The wave of your hand has him breaking from his thoughts. This time, he takes it. He fails to notice the gleam in your eyes as he does. He doesn’t realize his mistake until it’s already too late–until he’s falling into the fountain and on top of you. Quick reflexes save your book from the water, while one hand is planted at your side to avoid the full weight of his fall.

“Not so funny now, is it?” Your laughter dies in your throat and your voice embarrassingly losing its vigor as you both find yourselves unexpectedly close in the watery aftermath.

Wide amber eyes, bathed in the warm glow of honeyed hues, lock onto yours. His chest is pressed against you and his nose is so close to yours, they’re almost brushing. All you can hear is the soothing sound of running water and his soft breath. You can feel the warmth of it too and the way his chest rises and falls with every breath. 

“You cruel, wicked thing,” he murmurs, voice dripping in velvet, capturing the not so subtle shift in your gaze from his eyes to his lips.

He does the same, also well aware of how close he is to you. Gods, you’re dangerously close to him and as your eyes flutter shut, anticipation charges the air. A mere inch closer, and he could savor the allure of your lips—your pretty but devilish lips. The mere notion sets his heart aflutter. The golden string, binding you both together, seems to tug at him insistently, reeling him in.

Closer, the bond in his chest sings. Closer–

A series of distinct and deliberate chimes has both of you abruptly turning your heads towards the grand clock that oversees the gardens. Eris suppresses a sigh. He has to go but doesn’t want to leave. Reluctantly, he pulls away and rises to his feet, stepping out of the fountain. He then offers you his hand, helping you up. When your shoes slip along the fountain’s tiles, he chuckles and helps steady you by bringing you close to his chest.

“Thanks,” escapes you in a breathless whisper, the frenzy of your mind leaving no room for any other words. 

Once you’re back on steady feet, he distances himself from you, careful not to betray the protest of his heart. While you wrap your arms around your cold, trembling form, your gaze lowers to the book he safeguarded through the entire ordeal. Eris summons every ounce of strength to resist the urge to rush towards you and warm you with his kiss. He has to leave now.

“I’ll return your book to you,” Eris promises, smirking at the small sigh of relief you let out and mischievously adds:  “Once I’m done with it.”

Then, Eris leaves before you can say a single word. Before you can unravel his resolve further. You’re dangerous, he reminds himself. A cruel wicked thing that beckons a wayward soul like his to crave entry into heaven. Not just any heaven, but yours.

a/n: what type of book do we think the lovely reader was reading? lol I do have 2 more parts planned for this little au and maybe more 👀 depending on how the other 2 parts go (they're both inspired by songs and i'm literally just going with the vibes now since I'm really indecisive on how I want to go with this au. I have so many ideas.)