#now in a mirror dimly. etc etc etc.

[p4p1l0nn]

triple lee; naughtier the better.

── part one. two. three. mlist. wc: 9.1k

pairing: plug!haechan x plug!mark x stoner!reader x stoner!jeno

content warning: 18+ unprotected sex, humping, thigh riding, masturbation, explicit smut, etc, mdni.

a/n: introducing the first part of the triple lee series! starting off slow, but trust me, it gets better. happy reading ♡

like any other friday night, the air in the dimly lit room was thick with anticipation and the pungent smell of marijuana. you stood amidst a throng of people, their laughter mingling with the pulsating beat of the music.

neon lights danced across the walls, casting ever changing shadows that seemed to mirror the shifting moods of the partygoers.

your senses were alive with the sensory overload of the party — the taste of the cheap beer on their lips, the rhythmic vibrations coursing through their body, the kaleidoscope of colors swirling before their eyes — a flashback revealed how it all began.

earlier that day, you had been lounging on your couch, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when your phone buzzed with a text message from haechan.

“party at my place tonight. you better be there or else,” the message read, accompanied by a string of emoji depicting various threats, including a clown face and a pile of poo.

rolling your eyes, you fired back a response. “thanks, but i think i'll pass tonight.”

haechan's reply came swiftly, filled with exaggerated indignation. “absolutely not. you're coming, and that's final. besides, we haven't seen you in ages. it'll be fun, i promise!”

just as you were about to protest further, another message from haechan popped up on your phone. “oh, and by the way, mark’s gonna be there too, with his new stash, sure you don't want to come?” he added with a winking emoji, knowing full well that you had a soft spot for quality cannabis.

grumbling to yourself, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at the prospect of trying out some new strains. with a resigned sigh, you typed out a reluctant response. "fine, fine. i'll be there. but you owe me big time for this."

knowing full well that haechan's version of "fun" often involved copious amounts of alcohol and questionable decision-making.

and here you are, finding yourself swept up in the chaos of the party, surrounded by friends and strangers alike. you can't help but shake your head at the absurdity of it all. if only haechan hadn't resorted to such drastic measures to ensure your attendance. but then again, where's the fun in a quiet night at home?

cursing under your breath, "that shithead," you're suddenly interrupted when someone taps on the right side of your shoulder, earning your attention. turning to see who it is, you're met with the mischievous grin of your friend, mark, who's known as one of the infamous plugs in town. “well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence,” he teases, a playful twinkle in his eye.

you roll your eyes at his comment, but can't help but smile at his familiar antics. "yeah, yeah, laugh it up," you retort, playfully nudging him with your elbow. "what's up, mark? selling your goods at the party now?" you ask with a smirk, knowing full well his reputation as the go-to guy for quality cannabis.

mark chuckles, reaching into his pocket to produce a small pouch filled with an assortment of colorful buds. "you know it," he replies with a wink, "got something special for you tonight. it's a new hybrid strain called 'purple haze dream.' trust me, you're gonna love it." intrigued, you lean in closer to get a whiff of the aroma, already feeling a sense of anticipation building within you.

"purple haze dream," mark begins, his voice taking on a more serious tone as he delves into the details. "it's a hybrid strain, a cross between purple haze and dream queen. the aroma is something else - hints of sweet berries and citrus with a subtle earthy undertone. when you take that first hit, you'll notice how smooth it is, no harshness at all."

you nod, listening intently as mark continues. "as for the effects, it's a balanced hybrid, so you'll get the best of both worlds. the purple haze brings a euphoric, uplifting high that'll have you feeling creative and energized, while the dream queen adds a calming, relaxing touch that'll melt away any stress or tension."

you can practically taste the flavors and feel the effects just from mark's description alone. "sounds amazing," you reply, a hint of excitement creeping into your voice. "can't wait to try it out."

mark grins, clearly pleased with your enthusiasm. "you're gonna love it, dude, trust me. just let me know if you need anything else."

"thanks, mark. really appreciate it," you say, genuinely grateful for his assistance. "i've been meaning to catch up with you anyway. it's been a while since i've restocked."

mark nods, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "yeah, it has been months, hasn't it?" he replies, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "you used to be one of my most loyal customers. what happened?"

you pause, taken aback by the question. "oh, you know, life gets busy," you respond with a shrug, trying to play it off casually. "i've just been trying to cut back a bit, you know?"

but the truth is, it's not just about cutting back on cannabis consumption. it's about the struggle to make ends meet after your three roommates moved out to live with their partners.

living alone for the first time in years, you're faced with the daunting task of shouldering the rent and bills all on your own. gone are the days when splitting expenses with your roommates made everything easy. now, every dollar counts, and you find yourself scrimping and saving wherever you can. you even took up odd jobs like dog-walking and freelance writing to make ends meet, but it's still not enough.

you shake off the weight of your worries as mark's next words draw you back to the present. "cutting back, huh? or maybe you've found a new plug?" he teases, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

you can't help but laugh at his suggestion. "oh, please," you retort, shaking your head in amusement. "as if anyone could ever replace you, mark."

mark chuckles, seemingly satisfied with your response. "that's what i like to hear," he replies, his tone lightening once more. "but hey, no hard feelings. just know that i've always got the good stuff whenever you need it."

you nod, a faint grin playing on your lips. "sounds good. i'll keep that in mind. might have to restock sooner than i thought." you pauses, considering your next words carefully. "by the way, if you ever come across any new strains or anything interesting, let me know. always up for trying something different."

mark lets out a hearty laugh, his grin widening. "always on the lookout for something special for my girl," he says with a playful wink.

"smoke break?" mark suggests with a nod towards the balcony, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

you chuckle to yourself, muttering, "man will always be man," before nodding in agreement. "sounds good," you reply, feeling a sudden urge to break away from the crowd and enjoy a moment of solitude.

as you make your way to the balcony, you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. the chaos of the party fades into the background as you step outside into the cool night air, the sounds of laughter and music muffled by the distance. leaning against the railing, you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders.

reaching into your pocket, you retrieve the pouch of "purple haze dream" that mark gave you earlier. with trembling fingers, you carefully roll a joint, savoring the ritualistic process as you grind the buds and wrap them in paper.

it's been too long since you've indulged in such a simple pleasure, and you find yourself growing increasingly excited at the prospect of experiencing the effects of the strain firsthand.

chugging down the last of your drink, you flick your cigarette butt off the balcony and light up the joint, taking a long, slow drag. the smoke fills your lungs, sending a wave of relaxation coursing through your body. closing your eyes, you let out a contented sigh, feeling the tension melt away with each exhale.

the flavors dance across your palate, exactly as mark had described earlier - each puff of the joint a symphony of sensations. the sweet berries and citrus notes burst forth, tantalizing your taste buds with their vibrant intensity, while the subtle earthy undertone adds a depth and richness that lingers on your tongue. it's a truly exquisite blend, unlike anything you've ever tasted before, and you find yourself marveling at the complexity of flavors with each inhale.

as the smoke swirls around you, you feel yourself being transported to another world, a realm of pure bliss and euphoria. your senses are heightened, every sound, every color, every sensation amplified to almost overwhelming levels. it's as if you're floating on a cloud, weightless and free, with nothing but the warm embrace of the night air to anchor you to reality.

but even as you revel in the intoxicating effects of the cannabis, a part of you wonders if it's just the smoke itself that's making you feel so high, or if it's the combination of the drinks you've been consuming for hours now. either way, you couldn't care less. in this moment, lost in the haze of smoke, you feel alive in a way you haven't in ages.

with a contented sigh, you take another drag from the joint, letting the smoke fill your lungs and wash over you in waves of pure euphoria.

"well, that was hot," mark remarks from beside you, his voice cutting through the silence of the night.

you open your eyes to see mark smirking at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement. chuckling, you pass the joint to him. "you wish," you retort playfully, enjoying the easy banter between you.

mark takes a drag from the joint, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the night air. "hey, a guy can dream, can't he?" he replies with a grin.

you laugh, shaking your head at his antics. "dream on, mark," you tease.

before mark can reply, his phone suddenly rings, and he pauses mid-sentence, locking eyes with you as he reaches into his pocket to answer the call.

"yo, what's good?" mark says into the phone, his tone shifting to a more business-like demeanor. as he listens to the voice on the other end, his expression grows more serious, his brows furrowing in concentration.

studying him intently, you realize just now how good looking mark is. his chiseled jawline, piercing eyes, and confident demeanor make him stand out in any crowd. you understand why he's the infamous plug in town - with a face like that, a body like that, it's no wonder he's so well known and respected.

or maybe it's the effect of the smoke or the drink or whatever it was. trying to rationalize the sudden intensity of your attraction towards mark. but damn, he's breathtakingly beautiful and hot. sexy, if you may add.

as your thoughts wander, you can't help but imagine what it would be like to be with him intimately. you picture his strong arms wrapped around you, his lips trailing kisses along your neck as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. the mere thought sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire deep within you.

you wonder how it would feel to be pressed against him, skin against skin, feeling the heat of his body mingling with yours. you imagine his hands exploring every inch of your body, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you with each touch.

and then, your mind drifts to more dangerous thoughts - how skilled he must be in bed, how he knows just the right buttons to push to drive you wild with desire. you can almost hear his voice, husky with passion, as he whispers promises of pleasure and ecstasy.

shaking your head to clear away the daring images, you take another drag from the joint, hoping to banish the fantasies that threaten to consume you. but deep down, you know that the allure of mark's undeniable charm and charisma will linger long after the smoke dissipates, leaving you craving more of his intoxicating presence.

"yeah, i’m a bit strapped for your regular at the moment,” mark admitted, his tone casual. “but hey, i can hook you up with someone else– you really need it, huh?” he added, chuckling lightly. “alright, meet me at the usual in fifteen.”

turning his attention back to you, mark offers an apologetic smile. "sorry about that," he says, his tone sincere. “got a customer who’s eager to meet up. can’t leave them hanging, you know how it is,” he glanced at his phone, typing out a quick message to confirm the meet up. “would you like to come along? figured it might be a nice change of scenery.”

you nod in agreement, feeling grateful for the opportunity to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the party. "yeah, that sounds like a plan," you reply, mustering up a smile of your own. "i could use some fresh air."

the drive wasn't long, taking about fifteen to twenty minutes to reach the destination. you find yourselves in a quiet neighborhood, the streets dimly lit by the occasional streetlamp. the houses are close together, with narrow alleys snaking between them. it's the kind of place where you can imagine secrets lurking in every shadow.

as he pull up to the curb, you notice a figure standing on the sidewalk, dressed in a hoodie and a cap pulled low over their face. despite the dim light, you can see mark's face light up with recognition as he eagerly greets the man, extending his arms for a bro hug.

it's fascinating to see another side of mark, one that exists outside of the party scene and the role of the infamous plug in town.

just as mark points in your direction, signaling for his friend to see you, your phone buzzes with a notification. pulling it out of your pocket, you see a drunken text from haechan, filled with typos and nonsensical ramblings.

"heyy y/n! m missing u at the partyy :( wen r u coming back? we need more of ur dance moves lololol," the message reads, accompanied by a string of laughing emojis.

rolling your eyes at haechan's antics, you quickly type out a reply before slipping your phone back into your pocket.

just as you're about to look back to where mark was, both he and the mysterious figure have vanished into the shadows. you're about to shrug it off when suddenly, the door to the driver's seat bursts open, startling you.

you let out a yelp of surprise, instinctively jerking away from the sudden intrusion. heart racing, you turn to see mark slipping into the seat beside you, a mischievous grin on his face.

"mark, what the hell?" you exclaim.

mark chuckles, his laughter filling the car. "should've seen the look on your face," he says, wiping away a tear of laughter from his eye. "priceless."

you can't help but join in his laughter, feeling a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

as you catch your breath, mark reaches over and pats you on the shoulder reassuringly. "sorry about that, dude," he says, his tone genuine. "just couldn't resist messing with you a little."

you shake your head, unable to suppress a smile. "yeah, yeah, very funny," you reply, playfully rolling your eyes at him. "just don't make a habit of it, okay?"

mark chuckles at your response, the mischievous glint still dancing in his eyes. "no promises," he teases, winking at you before pulling away from the curb.

the feeling of fuzziness settling over you, a lingering effect of the smoke and drinks from earlier. despite the cool night air streaming through the open window, you can't seem to shake the foggy sensation clouding your thoughts.

"actually, mark, do you mind if we skip the rest of the night?" you ask, your voice tinged with exhaustion. "i'm feeling a bit fuzzy, and i think i just want to head back home."

mark nods understandingly, his expression softening with concern. "of course, i got you, dude," he replies, his tone gentle.

as you finally pull up to your apartment building, you thank mark for his kindness before stepping out into the cool night air. however, just as you're about to close the door, a sudden thought strikes you.

"hey, mark," you call out, leaning back into the car. "before i forget, how much did you say the goods were?"

mark grins, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small notebook. "ah, right," he replies, flipping through the pages. "for you, i can do a special deal. how about fifty for an eighth?"

you nod, impressed by the offer. "that sounds pretty reasonable," you reply, "and how soon could you have it ready for me?"

"i can have it ready for you by tomorrow afternoon," he assures you, "freshly harvested and ready to go."

you smile, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of stocking up on such a high-quality strain. "sounds perfect," you say, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your wallet. "consider it a done deal."

the next day starts off hectic as you wake up to find a letter slipped under your door. your heart sinks as you read the words written on the paper. it's a notice from the landlord, reminding you of your pending rent and warning of potential consequences if it's not paid soon.

feeling a wave of stress wash over you, you sit down on the edge of your bed, clutching the letter in your hands. how could you have let things get this bad? with your mind racing with worries about eviction and financial struggles, you realize that you need to find a solution - and fast.

just as you're about to spiral further into despair, your phone rings, interrupting your thoughts. it's haechan, calling you just in time, as if he were a heaven-sent messenger.

"babe," haechan exclaims cheerfully. "listen, i was just thinking, do you happen to have enough room for three grown men?"

you can't help but laugh at the coincidence of his question. "actually, haechan, funny you should ask," you reply, your voice tinged with relief. "i could use some roommates right about now. things have been a bit tight lately."

haechan's excitement is palpable through the phone. "bingo! i've got the perfect roommates in mind," he says eagerly. "i'll send them over to check out the place later today if that's alright with you."

you nod, feeling grateful for haechan's timely intervention. "sounds good to me," you say, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "thanks, bud. i owe you one."

"yeah, you do, because i'm part of that three grown men," haechan replies, his voice full of mischief. "see you later!"

time ticks by quickly as you go about your day, running errands and tidying up your apartment in anticipation of your new roommates' arrival. you're lost in a whirlwind of activity, barely noticing the hours slipping away until you're jolted out of your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell ringing.

with a quick glance at the clock, you realize that it's already later than you expected. hastily wiping your hands on a dish towel, you rush to answer the door.

as you swing the door open, you're taken aback by the sight of the first person standing on your doorstep. he gives off a slightly cold aura, his sharp features accentuated by the dim light filtering through the doorway. his veiny arms are visible under the sleeves of his shirt, adding to the intimidating presence he exudes.

"uh, hi there," you greet cautiously, unsure of what to make of this unexpected visitor.

the man's lips curl into a faint smile, "hey," he replies in a low, husky voice. "i'm here about the room."

you nod, trying to ignore the unease creeping up your spine. "right, come on in," you say, stepping aside to let him enter.

as he steps into the apartment, you can't help but study him discreetly, taking note of his piercing gaze and the way he carries himself with a certain confidence. there's something mysterious about him, something that makes you curious yet wary at the same time.

"make yourself at home," you offer, gesturing towards the living room. "i'll go get you something to drink."

as you retreat to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, your mind is still occupied with thoughts of the man who now occupies your living room. what caught your attention the most was his stance - it looked oddly familiar, yet you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

you pause in the kitchen, leaning against the countertop as you try to recall where you might have seen someone with such a commanding presence before. was it at a party? a chance encounter on the street? you're not sure, but there's something about him that tugs at the edges of your memory, begging to be remembered.

returning to the living room with a glass of water in hand, you cast a curious glance at the man who now sits on the couch, his cap still covering half of his face. you can't help but feel a sense of frustration at not being able to see his features clearly - it's like trying to solve a puzzle with half of the pieces missing.

"here you go," you say, offering him the glass of water with a polite smile. "sorry, i don't have any coffee made yet."

he accepts the water with a nod of thanks, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. there's something intense about his stare, something that sends a shiver down your spine.

"thanks," he replies, his voice low and gravelly. "no worries about the coffee."

as you watch him take a sip of water, you can't shake the feeling of unease that settles over you. internally, you curse haechan for not providing more details about the man who were supposed to rent the room. if only he had been more specific, you might have been better prepared for the strange encounter unfolding before you.

feeling the awkward tension thickening the air, you try to break the silence with some small talk, hoping to ease the discomfort of the situation. but before you can utter another word, he beats you to it with a blunt question.

"how much is the rent?" he asks, his tone plain and rude.

taken aback by his abruptness, you falter for a moment before composing yourself. "uh, well, it's $300 a month for each room," you reply, trying to keep your tone even despite the growing sense of irritation.

the man nods, as if considering the information, before setting the glass of water down on the coffee table with a thud. "alright then," he says curtly, his gaze flickering towards the door. "i'll take it."

you can't help but feel a surge of annoyance at his dismissive attitude, but you suppress it as best as you can. after all, you need the rent money, and beggars can't be choosers.

"great," you say, forcing a smile. "i'll get you the paperwork to sign."

as you retreat to your room to fetch the rental agreement, another doorbell rings, jolting you out of your thoughts. with a sigh, you swerve to the door, but before you can reach it, again, the man beats you to it, opening the door as if he owns the place. technically, he does now, but his sudden display of ownership still catches you off guard.

to your surprise, he seems positively excited as he greets the guest at the door, his demeanor a stark contrast to his earlier dismissive attitude. confused by his sudden change in behavior, you hurry over to the door to see who it is.

as you approach, you're greeted by the sight of mark standing in the doorway, a wide grin on his face. "yo, dude! you didn't tell me our roommate is gonna be jeno? this is sick!" he exclaims, his excitement palpable.

confused by his words, you furrow your brow and ask, "our?"

mark's grin widens as he steps further into the apartment. "yeah, our," he replies, clapping you on the shoulder. "i'm also renting the room. i'll explain later, but for now, let's just say it's gonna be lit."

you blink in surprise, processing the sudden revelation. so mark was also going to be your roommate. you can't help but wonder what other surprises the day has in store for you.

"have you two already introduced yourselves?" mark asks, glancing between you and the jeno guy who now stands in the living room.

still feeling a bit stunned by the revelation of mark's own rental arrangement, you shake your head slightly, silently admitting that you haven't exchanged names yet.

mark clears his throat, breaking the silence. "alright, enough with the awkwardness," he says with a grin. "y/n, meet jeno. jeno, meet y/n. you two are gonna be roommates from now on."

you exchange brief nods of acknowledgment, the tension in the air dissipating as mark's straightforward introduction breaks the ice. with the formalities out of the way, you can't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that you'll be sharing your living space with familiar faces.

mark then adds with a chuckle, "oh, and by the way, y/n, jeno here is the guy you and i met last night."

the realization hits you like a ton of bricks, and everything suddenly falls into place. jeno, the mysterious man from last night, the one who needed a restock — now he stands before you, not as a stranger, but as your new roommate.

you can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, "well, isn't this a small world," you remark, a wry smile playing on your lips.

just as you and jeno share a glance at each other, the sound of raucous laughter and loud footsteps echoes through the hallway. before you can even process what's happening, the door bursts open, and in stumbles haechan, looking more disheveled than you've ever seen him.

"yooo, what's up, party people!" haechan shouts, his words slurring together as he teeters on the edge of drunkenness. "hope i'm not too late for the shindig!"

you can't help but raise an eyebrow at him. "haechan, it's barely noon. are you sure it's time for you to be drunk?" you quip.

haechan stumbles forward, his balance faltering, and you quickly reach out to steady him before he falls flat on his face. "whoa there," you say, managing to catch him just in time. "looks like you've had one too many already."

haechan grins sheepishly, his cheeks flushed with alcohol. "eh, you know me," he says with a careless shrug. "just trying to make the most of the day, you know?"

you shake your head, flicking haechan's forehead lightly before giving him a warning glance. "well, just try not to break anything," you reply, guiding him over to the couch where he flops down with a contented sigh.

"looks like we've got ourselves some deals to discuss," you say to the three men, your tone playful but firm. "i'll bring in the paper for you to sign and give the landlord a call to make it official."

you can't help but shake your head at the chaos that's sure to ensue with three men living under one roof. the thought of navigating their varying personalities, habits, and quirks fills you with excitement. but deep down, you know that life with mark, jeno, and haechan by your side will never be boring.

with jeno's mysterious aura, mark's laid-back charm, and haechan's unpredictable antics, you can already envision the countless adventures and misadventures that await you in your new living arrangement. from impromptu parties to late-night conversations and everything in between, it's bound to be a wild ride.

but amidst the chaos, there's a silver lining — having two seasoned plugs under one roof means that restocking your supply will be easier than ever. gone are the days of waiting anxiously for your dealer to respond or trekking across town to meet them in some shady alley. now, with mark, jeno, and haechan just a few steps away, you can refill your stash with ease, knowing that your cravings will always be satisfied.

months pass, and life in the apartment with the triple lee becomes a routine. but as familiarity settles in, so does an undeniable tension that simmers beneath the surface.

whenever you light up a joint, it seems like there's always at least one of them eager to join you. the air becomes thick with smoke, swirling around you in lazy tendrils as you pass the joint between your lips. and as you inhale deeply, you can't help but notice the way their eyes linger on you, their gazes burning with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

at first, you brush off the lingering stares as mere curiosity, but as time goes on, you begin to feel something more. it starts with fleeting glances and subtle touches — a hand brushing against yours as you pass the joint, a lingering gaze that lingers a little too long. the tension between you and your roommates — mark, jeno, and haechan — reaches a fever pitch.

and before you know it, you find yourself drawn to them in ways you never imagined possible. that leave you breathless.

mark, with his devilish grin, fuels your fantasies with thoughts of rough, passionate encounters. you imagine him pinning you against the wall, his hands roaming your body as he whispers dirty promises in your ear. with each passing day, the desire to feel his touch grows stronger, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.

jeno, with his quiet intensity and smoldering gaze, awakens a primal hunger deep within you. you picture him taking control, his touch gentle yet commanding as he explores every inch of your body with a reverence that leaves you trembling with need. in your fantasies, he's the epitome of restraint, unleashing a torrent of pent-up desire that leaves you begging for more.

and then there's haechan, with his playful charm and infectious laughter, who ignites a wild, untamed passion within you. you envision him pushing you to your limits, his touch leaving trails of fire in its wake as he leads you on a journey of ecstasy and abandon. with him, it's all about letting go of inhibitions and surrendering to the raw, primal pleasure that courses through your veins.

how could you resist envisioning them naked when you're so used to seeing them walking around half naked, their toned bodies on display for all to see? it's a constant temptation, one that grows stronger with each passing day.

one evening, as you make your way to the bathroom, you're startled to find mark already inside, his shirt discarded on the floor as he stands before the mirror, shirtless and unapologetically confident. "oh, sorry," he says, flashing you a charming grin as he moves to step aside.

but instead of retreating, you find yourself frozen in place, unable to tear your gaze away from his chiseled physique. the sight of him, all lean muscle and taut skin, sends a jolt of desire coursing through you.

with a playful smirk, mark steps closer, his gaze smoldering. "you sure you're okay, love?" he asks, his voice low and husky as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "you seem a little . . . distracted."

his touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a primal hunger within you that demands to be satisfied. without thinking, you lean into his touch, your body craving the warmth of his skin against yours.

"i . . . i'm fine," you stammer out, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggle to maintain control. but deep down, you know that you're anything but fine. in fact, you're on the verge of losing yourself completely to the overwhelming desire that consumes you.

mark's teasing grin only widens, his eyes darkening with desire as he moves closer, closing the distance between you until you can feel the heat radiating from his body.

"are you sure about that?" he murmurs, as he trails his fingers lightly along the curve of your jaw, sending electric sparks dancing across your skin. "because you seem awfully tense, y/n. maybe i can help you relax."

his words send a shiver of anticipation coursing through you, your breath catching in your throat as you feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips. with each movement, he inches closer, his proximity setting your senses ablaze with longing.

you can feel the heat of his body pressing against yours. and as his lips hover just inches from yours, you find yourself powerless to resist the magnetic pull of temptation.

"mark . . ." you whispered, your voice barely a breathless sigh as you lean in closer, your lips dangerously close to his.

just when you think he's about to close the distance between you, brings his free hand to your back while his lips still hover close to fetch the hairdryer.

"got it," mark says with a mischievous smile, his eyes dancing with amusement as he breaks the spell, stepping away from you. "you can have the bathroom, love. i'm done anyways."

he winks at you before disappearing into his room, leaving you cursing him under your breath as you're left standing there, your senses reeling from the dizzying whirlwind of desire that he's left in his wake, his teasing leaving you feeling flushed and unexpectedly horny.

"fuck you, mark lee,"

all you can do is help yourself, your mind consumed with thoughts of them as you seek relief through self-pleasure.

despite your best efforts, the ache of desire persists, lingering in the depths of your being like an insatiable hunger that cannot be satisfied. even as your fingers work tirelessly to bring you to the brink of release, you find yourself yearning for something more, something deeper — a connection that transcends the physical act of pleasure.

but still, you press on, knowing that even if your touch alone isn't enough to fulfill your needs entirely, it's a temporary reprieve from the relentless onslaught of desire. and in this moment of desperation, you'll take whatever relief you can get, no matter how fleeting or inadequate it may seem. for now, it's enough to quell the raging fire of horniness that burns within you, if only for a fleeting moment.

shaken from your reverie, you blink rapidly, the harsh fluorescent lights of the grocery store aisle glaring down at you. reality comes crashing back in waves, and you realize with a start that you've been standing in the same spot for who knows how long, lost in the depths of your own thoughts.

embarrassment floods through you as you glance around, hoping that no one noticed your momentary lapse in awareness. hastily, you grab the item you came for and make your way to the checkout counter, eager to escape the prying eyes of the other shoppers.

as you wait in line, you can't shake the lingering feeling of arousal that still pulses beneath your skin, a reminder of the fantasies that had consumed your mind just moments before. with a shake of your head, you push the thoughts aside, determined to focus on the task at hand.

finally, you pay for your items and make your way out of the store, the warm afternoon air washing over you like a welcome reprieve. with each step, you feel the weight of the day slowly lifting from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of calm and clarity.

as you head back home, you make a silent vow to keep your needs in check, knowing that indulging in them would only lead to more trouble than it's worth.

reaching into your bag, you fumble for your keys, the weight of the metal reassuring in your hand as you approach the door to your shared apartment. with a twist of the lock, you step inside, greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of home.

until, the faint sound of a groan catches your attention, a low, throaty sound that sends a shiver down your spine. you freeze, your heart pounding in your chest as you strain to identify the source of the noise.

your mind races with possibilities, each one more harder than the last. could it be one of your roommates, lost in the throes of passion with a lover? or perhaps it's just the creaking of the old floorboards, a trick of the imagination brought on by the late afternoon and the dim lighting.

but even as you entertain the possibility of your roommates enjoying their intimate session behind your back, a nagging doubt gnaws at the edges of your mind. after all, as far as you know, none of them have ever brought girls back to the apartment without letting you know beforehand.

could they be sneaking around behind your back? the thought stirs a mix of anger and hurt or maybe even . . . jealous?

although it's none of your business, a sudden surge of protectiveness washes over you, urging you to intervene. you're not sure why this sudden urge to meddle has taken hold of you. could it be jealousy, bubbling up from deep within? or perhaps it's just a sense of duty to your roommates, wanting to ensure everything is okay.

whatever the reason, you can't ignore the pull to investigate further.

following the sound, you made your way towards the living room, curiosity driving you forward. and as you stepped into the room, your eyes were met with a scene that both shocked and aroused you.

seated on the couch was a guy with pale skin, his toned body visible as his t-shirt lay on the floor. his sweatpants were pulled down, and he was stroking himself. he had his head tilted back, letting out small moans of pleasure.

as you blinked in disbelief, you realized it was lee jeno, your roommate, caught in this intimate moment. his movements were slow as he continued to stroke himself, his breath coming in shallow pants. veins stood out on his neck, pulsing with desire, while his flushed cheeks betrayed the intensity of his arousal.

the same guy who had been rude and distant, you couldn't help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions. memories flooded back of the time you bumped into him after his shower, his damp hair tousled and his skin glistening with droplets of water. you had been unable to tear your eyes away from his toned body, and he had caught you staring, teasing you in his straightforward manner, a smirk playing on his lips.

"like what you see, princess?" he had remarked, his tone laced with amusement as he arched an eyebrow at you. the teasing glint in his eyes had only fueled your embarrassment, leaving you flustered and at a loss for words.

another memory flooded your mind, sending a jolt of heat through your body. you remembered vividly how jeno had "accidentally" pressed his erection against your backside while you were cooking.

his excuse had been flimsy at best — something about trying to reach for a plate while you were in his way. but you knew better.

you felt it — his hardness pressing against you right where you craved to be filled the most. the only thing that stood between you and him was the thin barrier of fabric, but even that couldn't hide the unmistakable bulge.

instead of anger, you felt a surge of desire coursing through you, driving you to the brink of madness. it left you wondering just how big he actually was, considering the brief but intense contact you had felt.

and now, the opportunity is right in front of you, and you're not about to let it slip away again. but then again, you've never been particularly close with jeno, and the thought of making a move feels daunting.

yet, the neediness coursing through your veins outweighs any reservations you might have. your heart pounds erratically in your chest, and a sticky heat begins to pool between your legs.

jeno's gaze meets yours without a hint of shame, and a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as he tilts his head back, letting out a low, guttural moan. "enjoying the show, princess?" he asks, his voice laced with a teasing edge as he continues to circle the flushed tip of his cock.

his voice drops to a husky whisper as he moans your name, sending a shiver down your spine and igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach.

realization hits you like a truck as you hear him moan your name. your name, uttered from his lips in a voice thick with desire, sends a surge of heat through your body, leaving you breathless and dizzy with need.

as you stand there, unable to feel your legs as they wobble beneath you, you realize just how fucking hot the scene is.

shakily, you call out jeno's name, your voice barely above a whisper as you're overcome with desire. in response, jeno moans your name again, the sound sending a shiver down your spine as he praises you, his words fueling the fire burning inside you. your mind becomes hazy as you stand there, torn between making a move or waiting for his instructions, unsure of what to do next.

"c'mere princess," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "be a good girl and help me out."

with a shaky breath, you step closer to jeno. his words send a jolt of electricity through you, and you find yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

as you stand before him, you let him guide your hand to his hardened cock, feeling the heat and hardness of it under your touch. you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you.

you kneel in front of him, you take a moment to admire his cock, thick and veiny, pulsing with need. with a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you wrap your hand around him, feeling him throb with anticipation.

you're not sure why you suddenly feel so bold. maybe it's because you've spent the whole week teasing yourself, unable to find satisfaction with just your fingers or your toy. and it doesn't help hearing haechan on the other side of the thin wall, making you even more desperate for release.

"you like watching me jerk off," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

"i did," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you lean in closer. with a slow, teasing motion, you begin to stroke him, relishing in the way he responds to your touch.

despite the pleasure your touch brings him, jeno is not known for his patience. he craves more, yearning for the feel of your lips, your skin against his.

with a swift motion, he stands up, pulling you to your feet and pushing you back onto the couch. as he hovers over you, his eyes lock onto yours, a mischievous glint dancing in them.

"you know, princess," he says, his voice low and teasing, "i'm not one to wait around. and right now, all i want is you."

your response is equally teasing as you whisper back, "then what are you waiting for?" the words seem to ignite a fire within him, making him even harder as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"should i kiss you?" he murmured, his lips hovering near yours, a mischievous grin playing on them. you nodded eagerly, craving his kiss after his teasing.

with a smirk, he leaned in, and your lips met, fitting together seamlessly, eliciting a soft whimper from you. the kiss quickly intensified, leaving you gasping for air.

he trailed kisses along your neck, diverting your attention as he positioned his leg between yours. pressing his firm thigh against your warmth, he felt the dampness through his pants. a soft groan escaped his lips as you instinctively moved your hips against him.

you started grinding against him without needing any prompting, the rush of pleasure making you moan softly. his lips kept moving on your neck, leaving small marks that would turn into bruises later.

your wetness soaked through jeno's sweats, making them cling to him, but he didn't mind as he pressed harder against you. he pulled his lips away from your skin to watch you ride his thigh desperately. your movements, the way your chest rose and fell with every moan, the way you tugged on your nipples through your shirt, made him moan in response.

"my naughty little princess," jeno growled, his eyes locked onto you as you moved against him. you whimpered, the friction between your wetness and his sweats driving you wild. pleasure surged through you, sending shivers down your spine and leaving your skin slick with sweat.

jeno bit his lip, watching you grind against his thigh with desperation. he was consumed by the desire to make you cum so hard you couldn't even think straight.

your distant, lust-filled gaze drove him wild. all he wanted was to push you over the edge, to hear you scream his name in ecstasy.

"i want you to cum all over my thigh, baby. be a good girl for me," he whispered.

you gripped onto the man above you, your nails digging into his arms. he winced but didn't pull away. as you started to slow down, overwhelmed by the intensity, he took control, gripping your hips tightly and urging you to keep going.

you screamed his name, throwing your head back as your body tightened. then, you were falling over the edge. your body shook with the intensity of your orgasm, leaving you unable to make a sound as waves of pleasure washed over you.

"come on, princess, let it out," jeno whispered, his voice deep and close to your ear. "fuck- that's it, good girl . . ."

as you started to calm down, your vision clearing, jeno's hands traced along your body, murmuring sweet words to ease you. he kissed you deeply, pulling you back from your daze. you gripped his hair, eliciting a moan from him.

you lay beneath jeno, spent and limp, while he smirked down at you, enjoying your disheveled look. despite his arousal evident, as hard as a rock, he focused on you with a commanding gaze.

"what's on your mind, princess?" he demanded, his voice firm.

"now," you stuttered, pulling your shirt off and revealing your bare breasts. "put that dick in this cunt."

"shit, just hearing that could've made me cum," jeno muttered, pushing his sweats down to his knees and kicking them off the couch. “been waiting for this for so long.”

he gripped your thighs firmly, parting them to reveal your still throbbing core. taking hold of his erection, he trailed the tip along your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. in that moment, you were struck by the sheer size of his cock; long, thick, and oozing with precum that made your mouth water.

but then, a sudden panic washed over you as you remembered the presence of your other two roommates. you whispered urgently to jeno, reminding him of the others.

jeno's reply came in a low voice. "fuck them, princess," he said, his eyes smoldering with intensity. "let them hear how good i make you feel."

he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance, feeling how wet and ready you were for him. unable to resist, he pushes his way inside you. the sensation is intense, unlike anything you've ever felt before — a mix of pleasure and slight pain that has your eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

"fuck fuck fuck," he groaned as he went all the way in. you've never felt anyone so deep inside you before, and your thighs start shaking. "you're so tight," he moans.

he pulled back until only the tip was inside you, feeling your walls tightening around him. with a groan, he thrust back in firmly, causing the couch to creak and both of you to moan loudly. your nails might have been leaving red marks on his back, but it only seemed to drive him to go harder.

"i'm gonna cum, shit," he said, his voice sounding strained.

"already?" you teased, earning a glare and a hard thrust from him. "thanks to you, i've been on edge for hours," he growled, biting your shoulder lightly and chuckling at your whimper.

"didn't you already—"

"no," he growled, thrusting deep and holding still, keeping you filled and squirming around him. "i waited for you to come back from shopping to catch me."

"well, shit," you mumbled, moving your hips against him, a hand trying to find your clit. but jeno grabbed your wrist, stopping you, a wicked grin on his face.

"uh-uh" he said firmly, holding your arm above your head. "you're going to cum from my cock alone or not at all, princess."

you whimpered, your eyes pleading as he ground deeper into you, hitting your sweet spot. "please, just let me cum."

"such a good girl, begging like that," he murmured, his lips moist as he licked them, but he kept your arm pinned. he slowed his pace slightly, still thrusting hard but not as fast, prolonging the torture for both of you.

you could feel an orgasm building up inside you, the tension in your stomach almost unbearable. unlike before, you weren't sure if you could cum from just his cock alone. it was a new feeling, one that left you both anxious and excited, wondering if you could reach that peak solely from his touch.

usually, you had to take care of yourself during or after. but seeing how determined jeno was, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you. you trusted him to take you to heights you hadn't reached before, to give you the stars and beyond.

"don't worry, princess," jeno reassured, releasing your arm and gently cupping your breast. "i'll make sure you reach it."

with his promise, he increased his speed, hitting just the right spot that made you cry out in pleasure and arch your back. unexpectedly, he pushed down on your stomach, triggering an immediate orgasm that was unlike anything you'd ever felt before.

"fuck, princess, you're doing great," jeno praised, maintaining the pressure and speed. "i can feel myself deep inside you," his words were dirty, fueling your orgasm even more.

your eyes rolled back, spots dancing before them, and your head spun. you felt like you might pass out from the intensity, your orgasm overwhelming you as his thrusts continued unabated.

his voice echoed in your ears, but you couldn't make out the words; all you knew was the pleasure was overwhelming, and everything felt soaked.

you felt a cool cloth wiping away the mess, and when you opened your eyes, you saw a small smile on his face as he cleaned your thighs.

he's smiling, you thought. you can't help but think how beautiful it is. it's a rare sight, a genuine expression that illuminates his features with warmth and kindness. his crescent eyes sparkle with a softness that tugs at your heartstrings, and for a moment, you find yourself mesmerized by the sight.

you wish this moment could last forever, etching his smile into your memory as a reminder of the gentle side he rarely shows.

but reality soon sets in, reminding you of the undeniable barrier that exists between the two of you.

despite the fleeting intimacy you shared, you both know deep down that you're nothing more than that — a temporary escape, a means to fulfill each other's physical needs.

"let's take a quick nap," he said, lending you a hand as you struggled to sit up, feeling like your back had turned to jelly. "sucks to be them."

“who?” you ask, feeling a pang of unease creeping into your voice.

"nothing, just . . . " jeno replied with a casual shrug, avoiding your gaze as he busied himself with straightening the cushions.

you frowned, sensing there was more to his comment than he was letting on. "what do you mean by that?"

before you could dwell on it further, jeno's gaze softened, and he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "we should probably clean up," he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he glanced around the room, avoiding your eyes.

you chuckled weakly, feeling embarrassed. "yeah, wouldn't want to give them a show," you said, attempting to lighten the mood as you glanced at the closed door, wondering if anyone else was lurking around.

"hey, y/n . . ." jeno's voice was soft, almost a whisper, and you turned to him, waiting for him to speak. when he hesitated, you prompted him, "what is it, jeno?"

"i don't want you to think i’m taking advantage of you," jeno stated plainly. “trust me, that’s the last thing on my mind.”

true, it was quite unexpected for the two of you to fuck. you both hadn't really planned on it, but things just escalated quickly. maybe it was the adrenaline, the thrill of doing something risky, or maybe it was just the heat of the moment that led to it.

“it's okay, jeno,” you replied gently, sensing his hesitation. "we all have our needs, and sometimes, certain situations arise to fulfill them." pausing for a moment, you continued, "you were about to say something?"

"i mean," he started, his tone earnest, "i want us to . . . you know, do this again. and not just for sex, but . . . i want to get to know you better."

as you listened to jeno's unexpected confession, memories of your interactions with him flooded your mind. unlike mark and haechan, who were always easy to talk to and had been your friends for years, your relationship with jeno had always been distant.

you recalled the times when you crossed paths in the apartment, exchanging little more than nods or brief greetings. even when you smoked out on the balcony, jeno's presence was accompanied by an air of indifference.

he would join you, wordlessly asking for a lighter and rolling his own cigarette. sometimes he'd linger, but more often than not, he'd disappear without a word, leaving you alone.

around you, jeno remained aloof and reserved, rarely showing any warmth or interest in engaging with you beyond what was necessary. his demeanor was cool and distant, his words carefully measured, as if he was always keeping you at arm's length.

it was as if you were both skipping crucial steps in the process of getting to know each other, rushing into something that felt both exhilarating and unsettling.

now, amidst the aftermath, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of awkwardness creeping in.

with a soft sigh, you finally broke the tension. “i’ll see you around, jeno.”

notes. reblogs and feedback are always appreciated — thank you for your support!

© 2024 PAPILLON

[itgetsdark-x]

Something In Your Mouth

Summary: what’s a little night out if not for a bit of teasing fun with your dad’s best-friend?

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, mentions of alcohol, age gap (Joel’s age unspecified), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (do better!!), edging, orgasm denial, forced orgasm (kinda), use of good girl etc, mild humiliation / degrading. idk i feel a lil unhinged with this one besties.

Characters: dbf!joel miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 5.3k

You pressed your glossy lips together to ensure that the hot pink covered every area of your pout and you smiled at your friend in the reflection of your bedroom mirror. 

“Girl, I’m telling you… Tonight is the night that I finally fuck Joel Miller.” You smirked, taking the bottle from your friend, Sasha’s hands and taking a long swig of the warming liquor.

“Ha! Yeah right… Are we on about the same Joel Miller here? Your dad’s friend, the single father himself and what’s that? Oh yeah, he’s ancient, old enough to be your own dad! He won’t touch you, jailbait, give up.” She laughed again as your flipped her off.

“Sash, I am in my mid-twenties, closer to thirty than I am twenty. Not to mention, I’m hot okay?! There are worse women Joel could sleep with. I’m just saying… I think it’s a good idea. I just get big dick energy from him y’know? I mean, have you seen his hands?! His fingers. I actually feel like if I don’t have him soon, I’m gonna go legally insane.” You huffed.

Sasha shook her head as you stood from your bed to get changed. You flung your comfy t-shirt and shorts into your friend’s direction and grabbed the outfit you had hung on your door. Tonight’s attire was an ensemble of a black leather skirt, hot pink tank top and your trusty platform Doc Marten boots.

“Be fucking real right now, that is not your underwear of choice for the evening!” Sasha all but screeched as she caught a glimpse of your undergarments as you began changing your outfit.

“What?!” You asked with feign innocence.

“You’re wearing a hot pink thong with matching bra. Please tell me this is not for Miller.” She sighed with exasperation, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“Maybe it is… but hey, if Joel doesn’t want some tonight I’m sure some other lucky guy will appreciate the efforts I have gone to.” You shrugged, winking at your friend. “Now, how ‘bout you quit your judging and get changed so we can get to the bar! The girls are meeting us there.”

Sasha groaned with effort as she stood and joined you in getting changed.

———

The bar was busy, you were meeting your friends there to celebrate your upcoming birthday which meant your father was going to be there and in turn, so was Joel. You weren’t a complete idiot, you knew that trying to get with Joel was a huge risk for you both; if your father ever found out, you would most likely be forbidden to ever leave your apartment ever again and well, you couldn’t even imagine what your dad would do to Joel.

Which also meant you had to be calculated with how you went about it; no blatant flirting or teasing in front of your dad, you had to play your cards right, keep them close to your chest.

As soon as you and Sasha arrived into the dimly lit bar, your friends herded over to you and enveloped you in a big hug. You squealed with delight and greeted them all individually before your dad walked over, with the older Miller in tow close behind.

“There’s my princess, happy early birthday, sweetheart.” Your dad beamed, hugging you and kissing your temple.

“Thanks dad, and thanks for actually showing up! I know hanging out with us girls isn’t at the top of your Friday night agenda. Same for you Joel, thanks for coming.” You smiled bashfully at him before he closed the space between you both and gave you a quick squeeze.

Your head span and you could feel your heart threatening to beat right out of your chest, his heady cologne drowning your senses and driving you mad. It was an immediate effect and you couldn’t stop the way your core throbbed at the contact.

“Gotcha a drink darlin’. Happy early birthday.” He flashed a smile in your direction and gave you a glass filled with amber-coloured liquid. “Yes, it’s our favourite. Southern Comfort and lemonade.”

You grinned at him and took a swig of the drink gratefully, just as you turned to talk to your father again, you were almost certain you could feel Joel’s eyes raking over your body with hunger.

———

As the night wore on, the drinks flowed and the laughter grew rowdier and louder as the music in the bar was turned up. You were dancing with a couple of your friends, every now and then your eyes would catch Joel’s; he sat at the bar talking to your dad and nursing his whiskey.

“Sash, did you see the way he keeps looking at me? And earlier? Please tell me you saw that!” You whined.

“Ugh. God. I hate to feed your delusions but I did see it and I see it now. Even with your back turned, he’s watching you. Fuckin’ weird and intense, it’s like a predator with his prey. Waiting to strike.” She huffed, voice just loud enough for you to catch over the pop music playing.

“Okay… But why is that hot as fuck?” You laughed, throwing your head back as your danced. “I just need my dad to clear off, I love him but I can’t hit on his friend when he right there. That would be weird.”

You carried on dancing, with your friends and even with a couple of men when they tried it; you couldn’t help but notice the way Joel’s stare seemed to intensify when any man came near you, it made you smile to know that he was watching you.

One particular man caught your attention, he was similar to you in age, as far as you assumed and he was handsome, definitely easy on the eyes but nowhere near anywhere as good as Joel. He smirked at you from the bar and closed the distance between you until his hand was on your hip and he was dancing with you. You smiled sweetly at him, peering up at him through your lashes as you brought your thumb up to your glossy lips to suck on it seductively. You flashed a glance over to Joel who looked like he was ready to kill. 

Bingo. You thought to yourself and danced with the handsome male in front of you, the music boomed and you swayed your hips against him, you span yourself around so you could press your ass to his crotch and you smirked over at Joel once again who was now alone at the bar. Your fingers clutched your glass as you wrapped your lips around the thin, red straw and sucked up the cool drink. 

Joel quirked a brow at you, with a look that you couldn’t quite place, it seemed to settle somewhere between lust and utter disdain for you. You gave him a little wave and turned back to face the man you were dancing with, you looped your arms loosely around his neck and continued to dance along to the loud music. 

The nameless man leant down and whispered into your ear, the music distorted his voice but he said something about leaving with him which caused you to giggle. You got up onto your tiptoes to whisper back into his ear but felt a foreign hand pressed against the small of your back. The guy you were just dancing with backed away with his hands held up in innocence. 

“Hey!” You turned around with a deep frown. “Oh… hey, Joel.” You smiled.

“Your daddy left a little while ago, he saw you dancing and didn’t want to… disturb since you seemed busy…” He scoffed. 

“Well I was a lil busy, and now he’s gone. Whatcha want?” You huffed. 

“Don’t fuck around, little girl. We both know what you’re playin’ at.” 

“What?!” You asked with feigned innocence.

“Darlin’” he warned lowly in your ear, his voice sending shivers through you. “You’re out here, shakin’ your ass for everyone.”

“And? Last time I checked, I’m single, of age and having a bit of fun. Is that not allowed, Mr Miller? Not even on my birthday?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him. 

Joel scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, this fake-innocence crap wasn’t getting anywhere with him and he knew you were doing it to get a reaction from him. 

“You’re being a little tease, darlin’ and I think you know it.” He growled, his voice low in your ear. 

You swallowed roughly, even with the drinks you had, your mouth suddenly felt impossibly dry with nerves. You shook your head to Joel and he just chuckled. 

“No, no… You know what you’re doing, I know you’ve been trying to get my attention all night and well, congrats. You’ve got my attention. So what now? What do you want, hm?” He asked, leaning back to gauge your reaction. 

“I — I, I want -“ You stumbled over your words dumbly, without a coherent sentence forming. 

“Hm?” He hummed, he took your hand and trailed it down his hard chest, down his stomach and let it graze across his crotch. 

Even with barely touching him, you could feel the hard length of his cock through the rough material of his worn jeans. You pushed your legs together in the vain hope of staving off the throbbing between them, you could feel your panties get slick as you imagined sinking to your knees and sucking Joel. 

“Funny, you seemed to be playing the big girl earlier, princess. Dancing with anyone, swinging your ass and hips for them. What’s the matter? Cat gotcha tongue now?” He smirked, his voice a soft coo in your ear. 

“I want you to fuck me.” You blurted out, unceremoniously and immediately, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I mean, I uh — ignore me. I’m gonna go find my friends.” You muttered. 

Joel shook his head and held onto your elbow roughly. “Come home with me then, darlin’. My truck is parked out back.”

“You’ve been drinking, I’ve had some drinks. One, I don’t wanna die in your rust-bucket truck and two, this is stupid. I’m being stupid.” You spoke quickly. 

“Firstly, I’m gonna ignore you just called my truck a rust-bucket, that’s a whole other conversation and two, I’ve had two drinks, perfectly fine to drive. And as long as you’re sober enough to consent, and you do wanna do this. I think it’s a wonderful idea. Maybe just don’t tell your daddy.” He laughed. 

You nodded dumbly, words failing you once again and let yourself be led out of the bar by Joel; you briefly shot a look behind you and for a second, you caught eyes with Sasha who just smirked at you as you left. 

—

Joel opened the truck door for you to climb in, you grabbed the handle on the side and hauled yourself in; knowing your skirt would rise and give Joel a quick glimpse of your skimpy fabric. 

Joel had to all but bite back a groan as he saw the flash hot pink, the curve of your ass just enveloping the lace as you sat down. 

“Fucking hell.” He cursed as he closed the door to his truck and went to the drivers side. “You really are a naughty little tease, aren’t you?” He laughed. 

You shrugged at him with a sheepish smile; in truth you weren’t always this bad but tonight it got you exactly what you wanted and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Joel started his truck and within seconds of driving down the road, you reached your hand across the bench to palm at his cock; your delicate fingers wrapped around his half hard length through his jeans and you couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation. 

He felt thick, even when only half hard and your mouth watered at the thought of his thick cock hitting the back of your throat. 

“Impatient much?” Joel laughed, flashing a quick smirk in your direction. 

“I need to taste you, like, immediately.” You hummed, you knew it sounded cringey and cliche but you needed it more than you could comprehend. 

“Maybe let’s wait until we are back at mine — fuck —.” Joel cursed as your fingers quickly undid his jeans and dipped into the waistband of his boxers, albeit a little awkwardly. 

“I’m sat here, and I’m wet. I’m talking, on the verge of dripping onto my thighs. I want you. In a way I’ve never wanted a man before so… how about you let me get you warmed up so when we get back to yours, you can have your way with me.” You reasoned, your voice blunt. 

Joel couldn’t argue with that reasoning so he gently lifted his ass off the seat to allow you easier access to pull his thick cock out from his boxers. Your fingers expertly wrapped around his length and you marvelled at the fact your finger tips barely met. You stroked his shaft a few times as you felt him fully harden under your touch. 

You couldn’t help but giggle; it was immature and girlish but in this moment, you felt giddy. You awkwardly repositioned yourself so you could duck your head down and suck the tip of his cock into your wet mouth. 

Joel’s fingers tensed on his steering wheel, you could hear the squeak of the leather protest under his grasp as you wrapped your mouth around the male fully and sank your head down, enveloping him further. 

You kept a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and bobbed your head slowly, a soft moan being muffled by the fullness in your mouth. 

Above you, Joel groaned deeply as your tongue swirled around the tip and you grazed your teeth gently against his frenulum. 

“Oh fuck!” Joel cursed out, one hand coming down to grip into your hair tightly; he couldn’t help the way his hand pushed your head down further. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth. Fuck.” He praised, brushing some hair away so he could catch a better glimpse of the sight below him. 

You hummed in appreciation as you bobbed your head, your hand moving in perfect synchronicity with your skilled mouth. You removed Joel’s cock with a loud pop and you smirked at the male. You moved to kiss at his neck and your teeth grazed over his ear. 

“Tastes better than any sucker I’ve ever had.” You purred, your voice low and sultry. 

“You’re trouble.” Joel stated with a soft groan as your lips continued to kiss down his neck and your head travelled down south once more. “But you look so much cuter with something in your mouth, that’s its princess.” He cooed as your mouth sank around his cock once more. 

The drive back to Joel’s was a short one, even if he did contemplate driving around the block a couple more times just so he could feel your mouth around him for longer. 

Joel pulled into his drive, by this point you were sat up right and running a thumb along your bottom lip to tidy up your lip gloss. Joel tucked himself back into his jeans haphazardly before turning off the ignition to his truck. 

“Inside, quickly. I don’t need the neighbours seeing me bringing you home. You know how rumours spread ‘round here.” He mumbled and it was true, most people knew Joel and they in turn, knew your father. You could almost heard the whispers that would spread around this part of town if they caught wind of what you were doing with Joel. 

You hopped out his truck and walked to his front door ahead of him, making sure to keep a clear distance from the older male; no matter how hard your fingers were itching to explore his body. 

Joel held onto the small of your back as he quickly unlocked his front door and ushered you into the familiar space. 

“Upstairs. You know where my room is.” He stated bluntly as he removed his boots. 

You nodded without another word and silently went up the stairs; you may have been playing the confident card in the truck but now that you were here, now that you were in his house, your hands were shaking with nerves and anticipation. 

Joel entered the room a mere few seconds later and he smiled at you. 

“So you’re not that much of a little brat that you can follow basic instructions.” He cooed. 

You nodded, biting on your lip as you watched Joel effortlessly remove his t-shirt. Just as you pictured it; his chest was tanned and peppered with soft white hair. Further down his stomach as a groomed line of dark hair that disappeared under his waistband. 

“What’s the matter, little girl? Not so brave now?” He smirked, closing the distance between you to hold your chin roughly between his finger and thumb. 

He ducked his head down and kissed you roughly; it was an unceremonious clash of tongues as you kissed him back with intense fervour. 

“That’s what I thought.” He whispered against your lips and let go of your face. “Take off your clothes. Leave on your underwear, I wanna be the one to remove that from you.” He commanded, kicking off his own jeans and sitting on the edge of his bed. 

You suddenly felt self conscious, you could feel the burn of his gaze as you stood in front of him. You turned your back to him as you slowly undid the zip on your skirt and bent down to remove it. 

Behind you, Joel had pulled his cock from his boxers and was stroking himself as you removed your clothes. Once your shirt was removed, you span back round to face the male and gently crossed your legs as you watched him. 

“Fucking look at you.” He groaned, as his cock gently fucked into his fist. “Thought about your body so many times, knew I shouldn’t. Knew it was wrong but look at you, c’mhere.” He mumbled.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment at his confession; it soothed your nerves as you realised the attraction was mutual between you both. Joel sat back a little and tapped his lap; you got the idea quickly and straddled him. 

You cock feel his swollen cock rub against your clothes heat and you whined weakly at the contact. 

“Please don’t tease me.” You whispered, looping your arms around his neck as Joel’s hands settled onto your soft hips. 

“‘M not gonna tease you…” he smirked, his eyes lit with mischievous intent. “But I bet you could cum just from rubbing yourself on my cock. Since you seemed to want it so bad at the bar, trying to get my attention. Well guess what, little girl, you got it. Now keep it.” He hummed. 

“Joel —“ you protested, to which he raised a brow at you in question. 

You pushed your hips forward so the tip of Joel’s cock nudged your damp panties, it nudged your clit and you gasp as you began to rut your hips back and forth. 

“Such a needy little girl, aren’t you? So needy for your daddy’s best friend that you’ll rub against his cock like a good little bitch.” He cooed, holding your cheek tenderly as his condescending words fuelled your hips to move faster. 

“Not enough.” You whimpered, your hands scratching at Joel’s back for more leverage. “Need you in me, please. I need to feel your fingers inside of me.”

Joel smirked and pressed two digits into your mouth without warning; you quickly sucked them in, your tongue swirled around them until they were coated with your saliva. 

“Is that what you mean, princess? My fingers are inside of you.”

You shook your head no as your hips moved desperately, the hot pink fabric of your lace thong was ruined; it was dark in colour as your arousal soaked the fabric. 

“Then what is it you mean? Tell me what you want.” Joel said quietly, removing his fingers from your mouth. A long ling of spittle keeping you connected to the older male. 

“Need your fingers in my pussy; need to feel them inside of me as I cum. P-please.” You whined, your voice sounded wrecked already as your hips stuttered against Joel’s cock. 

Joel dipped his fingers into the front of your lace panties, they were slick from your spit and they glided through your wetness with ease. 

He let out a moan as he felt your wetness soak his fingers further; his fingers circled around your clit with skill and your mouth fell agape with intense pleasure. 

You screwed your eyes shut as his fingers sped up to rub over your clit. 

“Oh that’s it, good girl. So wet for me, aren’t you? This all for me?” He hummed. 

You nodded, as your back arched away from the man so he could gain better access to your front. Joel continued to speed his fingers up; he watched your every movement; every heave of your chest, every gasp or twitch of your arm and he knew you were getting close. 

“Tell me when you’re going to cum.” Joel whispered, dropping his head down to kiss at your bra-clad chest. 

“I’m close, Joel. So fucking close.” You whimpered, you were barely making a noise. 

“That’s it, atta a girl.” Joel praised. 

“I — I’m gonna, I’m gonna, fuck!” You screeched, the raw noise ripping from your throat as Joel removed his fingers from your panties at precisely the wrong moment. 

He smirked at you, his mannerism teasing and cruel. 

“What the fuck?” You squeaked, your eyes wide and your chest still heaving. 

“Well I didn’t say you were going to cum, did I?” Joel stated. 

“Please.” You pleaded, your eyes searching for mercy in him. 

“Lay down on the bed for me.” Joel whispered, tapping your ass gently. 

You felt dumb, your body was tingling all over from the overstimulation and lack of orgasm and you moved without knowing how you were doing it. You laid down onto Joel’s bed, your back resting up against his pillows. 

It took everything in you to not turn your head into the soft pillows, breathe in his scent and fuck yourself right there. You felt like a horny teenager who couldn’t ever satisfy themself. 

Joel fully kicked off his boxers and knelt beside you, he motioned his finger in an upwards movement and you sat up for him. Quickly, he removed your bra and your chest gently fell from the hot pink fabric. He gently pushed you back onto the bed and then worked to remove your panties, they too were discarded with the rest of your clothes on the floor. 

“Now, where were we?” Joel smirked before he trailed his fingers back between your legs. 

Instinctively, you spread them for him as he worked over your clit again; within seconds, the pressure was there once again and you tightly gripped at the sheets below you. 

“Joel —“ you whined. “Please. Please, I am begging you, please let me cum.”

“Now where’s the fun in that, little girl?” He murmured menacingly. 

You closed your eyes and willed yourself to not burst into tears there and then; the pleasure you were feeling was intense, Joel’s fingers moved expertly to bring you close to your orgasm and then there was the humiliation of him denying you the thing you wanted most. 

Joel was watching you intensely, he was picking up on every little micro movement your body made or didn’t make, he was calculating when to stop his movements or when to speed them up. Bringing you right up to the edge, almost letting you peer over it but then pulling you right back again; never quite letting you topple into ecstasy. 

He had done this three or four times now and the noises that left your body no longer sounded like your own; they were wrecked sobs of desperation as your arousal coated your thighs and left a wet spot behind in your wake. You could barely remember your own name or where you were anymore; Joel had messed with your mind.

“Please.” You pleaded to Joel, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Please let me cum, I can’t — I can’t take anymore.” Your eyes were glassy with tears at the intensity of Joel’s actions and your own frustration as you experienced another ruined orgasm.

You knew if you really wanted this to stop, you could stand up, get dressed and walk away but you didn’t want that. Joel Miller had rotted your brain and you were fixated under him, completely at his will. 

Joel smirked at you again, that same look he kept giving you; it was smug, it was infuriating and it turned you on even more. 

“Look at you, princess. You’re a mess.” He whispered, his spare hand brushing a strand of hair away from your features. “So wet and messy for me, hm? Are you sure you can even cum now? Do you know what to do?”

You nodded eagerly at the older male, your eyes pleading silently as your mouth was hung open in constant pleasure. 

Joel didn’t say a word, instead he sunk two fingers into your hole without warning; his thumb circled your clit with intense pressure. It was like a million sparks erupted throughout your body; your back arched off the bed, your thighs fell open even further and your walls clenched around Joel tightly. 

You could feel yourself flutter and pulsate around the man’s digits as you came. Your eyes were screwed shut and your mouth was open, not a single sound fell from your parted lips apart from the start of a strangled moan. The pleasure, the pure ecstasy, was too intense for you to make a single sound. 

Joel pumped his fingers quickly, watching as you came on them. 

“That’s it, fuck. So good. Give me another one.” He growled, his arm shaking as he pumped his fingers even faster inside of you; his thumb pass over your clit with each thrust of his digits. 

You honestly didn’t know if you could give him another; your body was shaking as you laid there and took what Joel was giving to you. It was intense and never before had you had such a strong orgasm; there were still white flecks dancing around in your vision as your body built up to another orgasm. 

Your fingers were clawing at Joel’s arm and you were sure that you had broken his skin as you came on his fingers; there was no telling what would happen when he ripped another orgasm from you. 

“Be a good girl and then I’ll give you my cock, come on, princess. I know you can give me another one. I know you’re good enough for that.” He whispered. “Look at what you’re doing to me, baby girl. Look at my cock, it’s leaking for you. So good.”

You peered between your bodies and saw the head of Joel’s cock, it was flushed and there was a dribble of precum falling from the tip and collecting onto the sheets below. 

“Ki-kiss me.” You managed to squeak out, your voice shaking as you looked at the older male. 

He smiled and happily obliged, your lips met in a sloppy kiss as you felt your body shake more intensely. The tight coil in the pit of your stomach snapped once more and another intense orgasm rippled through you like a shockwave.

“Good. Good girl.” Joel praised against your lips as he worked you through your orgasm. 

He pulled his fingers from your hole and rubbed them speedily across your clit, you let out a yelp at the overstimulation and gripped Joel’s arm tightly for leverage. 

“I’m gonna —“ you managed to call out before he felt yourself gush onto the sheets below you. 

“Oh fuck.” Joel moaned, his cock jumping with arousal as you squirted onto his hand. 

“I’m so, fuck —“ you breathed shakily and held yourself up onto your elbows, tears staining your cheeks from the intense pleasure. “Joel, I’m so sorry. Fuck, let me clean up. Fuck.” You cursed, your body shaking as you went to sit up. 

Joel chuckled and gently pushed your shoulder back onto the bed with a shake of his head. 

“So sexy. Have you ever squirted before?” He asked, finally removing his hand from your throbbing pussy. 

You shook your head and he just grinned at you boyishly. 

“That’s even hotter, how did it feel, princess? Did you like it?” He asked softly, his fingers tracing soft patterns across your tummy. 

You blushed at his words and gently cleared your throat. “I did like it, I didn’t… well I didn’t know I could actually cum that hard. It was intense but amazing.” You said softly, looking up at Joel through your lashes. 

“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Look, we don’t have to — well, y’know, we don’t have to have sex. If you’re too stimulated or whatever. I can sort myself out.”

You quickly shook your head and pulled him closer to your naked body. 

“No!” You said quickly. “I mean, I am a little over stimulated right now but please, I need to feel your cock in me.”

Joel didn’t need to be told twice and he roughly flipped your body over so your face was against the bed. You gasped under the male, surprised by his strength. Behind yourself, you could feel Joel moving, positioning himself so his cock was nudging against your entrance. 

He thrust forward, filling you once again; you were all-consumed with just Joel. The heady scent of him lingered on the bellows below your face, you cunt ached with lingering pleasure of your orgasms and now, you could feel his large hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucked into you with fervour. 

“That’s it, sweet girl, taking me so well. So good.” Joel mewled, the praise sending heat through your body once more. 

Your fingers clung to the soft fabric of the sheets below you, and you couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped your lips as Joel fucked you. 

“So good. F-faster.” You whimpered. 

Joel obliged, he sped his hips up and dug his fingers into your hips so hard you felt as if you were going to have bruises there for days. 

Joel’s hips began to stutter, his groans grew deeper and you clenched around him, trying to bring him closer to filling you. 

“Such. A. Good. Little. Girl.” Joel groaned, each word accentuated by a deep thrust. “This is my cunt now, got it? Hm. All mine. Fuck, you’re so good for me.”

You nodded under him with a soft moan as he bottomed himself out in you, his cock impossibly deep as you felt it twitch before he coated your insides with his hot cum. You whined at the sensation and felt yourself flutter around his pulsing cock instinctively. 

“Shit.” He groaned, giving one final sloppy thrust before we collapsed down onto the bed beside you with his chest heaving deeply. 

You followed suit, your body finally giving out from under yourself; you grimaced as your body touched the soaked patch on the bed and you began to feel Joel leak from inside of you. 

“‘M a mess but so tired.” You yawned, scrunching your face in disgust. 

“Let me clean you up.” Joel whispered, stroking your cheek. 

He let out a grunt as he climbed off the bed, his limbs aching from the effort. He scooped your body from the mattress and carried you to the bathroom where he sat you in the bath. He turned the shower on and you hummed as the warm water hit your body, not caring your hair and makeup would be a mess. 

Joel climbed behind you and gently rubbed your shoulders as the warm water washed away the messes you both made. 

-

-

A/N: my requests are open again, I can’t promise I’ll always write them really quickly but please send me any ideas of stuff u wanna read <3 love u all <3

[anchoeritic]

♥︎ — DOUBLE PERSPECTIVE OF YOU

MIGUEL O'HARA + FEM!READER

SYNOPSIS: miguel finds a better use for the mirror sat in front of your bed and makes sure you know of his new discovery.

WARNING: eighteen content only, minors do not interact. vaginal penetration, overstimulation, intercourse in front of a mirror, praise kink, use of feminine terms (girl, princess, etc.)

MIGUEL O'HARA with his hand pressed to the base of your spine, letting out a hiss as you rolled your hips back onto him. his cock slipped in and out of you with every smooth, slow stroke, only sliding into your cunt deeper by the last.

he was amazed by how much of him you could take in one night, surprised that you insisted to play on for more than a round. your drive was just as hard as his. if not, even better.

"f-fuuuck.. you treat me s'good." his voice was raspy. his hand gripped your hip tighter, his other pressing down harder onto your spine to make you arch even lower. "all tight 'nd warm for me. love this pussy s'much."

now, he was the one to start stuttering. after making you finish one too many times, it's only fair to help him out, right? miguel believes in pleasuring his partner first and foremost, until you've had enough, of course.. but where's the relief for his sudden ache when he needs it. it's you.

"look at yourself, baby. look at me when i fuck you." the mirror in front of your sweaty bodies almost pushed him over the edge: watching down on you while you gripped onto the sheets, face deep between the mounds of pillows, you looked fucked out and he loved it. not to mention, how your ass would grind onto his front.

your moans could barely be heard from between the cushions, his hand gripping at the back of your neck and pushing you deeper into it. you probably wouldn’t even be able to hear it with your head up, miguel’s groans were much louder.

the increased volume of his whines sent a shiver down your spine, your body succumbing to the way your name fell from his lips so delicately yet so dirty at the same exact time.

“i said, look up.” sliding his hand further down, it wrapped itself around your throat tightly in a single firm grab and pulled to make your back arch perfectly. “there we go, mama. that’s it, that’s my girl.”

a throaty cry fell from your lips once you felt yourself lift off from the pillow, sucking in a heavy breath of air finally. his cock never stopped rocking into you, the speed of his hips only growing faster as you struggled to keep yourself up.

“look at how pretty you look. all wet, all messy.”

the light shining through the curtains didn’t help your vision as your eyes slowly became accustomed to the dimly lit sight happening right in front of you; the two of you in the mirror.

[lou-struck]

Made With Love Part 3

OM Brothers & Datables x reader pt.3

Featuring Special parts with Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Part 1 Here

~Now that you know how to nullify the Love Potion's effects, you wander the castle in search of your loved ones. But as you venture through these darkened halls you feel like you are being hunted.

WC: 7.1k

Warnings: Love Potion based personality changes, obsessive behaviors, mention of suggestive behavior, lots of teasing, kissing, touching, etc, Reader is implied to be smaller than Beel.

Asmodeus’ part alludes to past experiences of SA (not with the reader). If that topic makes you uncomfortable please skip it.

a/n:  sorry for the wait my friends. I know so many of you have been looking forward to this part so I hope you like it!

Intro~

The air in Solomon's lab smells both burnt and strangely damp as Luke pushes his way inside. His little heart is pounding furiously as the door shuts behind him. Bits of dried herbs from experiments past litter the ground and crunch under the angel's feet. 

Running from the palace has left him winded, and the stress from the situation makes his heart beat furiously in his chest, but he can't rest. 

How could he after what he did? 

Guiltily, he pulls out his DDD and taps on the darkened screen. It glows to life at his touch, illuminating the sweet photo of you and him working behind the counter at the RAD bake sale; one look at your kind smile sends him plunging into the deep dark sea of guilt as he is reminded once again that he is the one responsible for sending you into the lion's den to save everyone. Although he knows that none of his friends would ever hurt you, he worries that their love potion induced obsession may unintentionally cause them to act carelessly. Nervously, he checks his notifications and sees that he has no new messages from you. Which at least means that everything on your end is turning out alright. 

All he has to do is find the recipe book that Solomon used to make the mysterious Potion and somehow use the knowledge from his Devildom Alchemy 101 class to reverse engineer the antidote before his unpredictable, love-sick friends try to do something stupid. 

Seems simple enough…

But as Luke's eyes scan the cluttered countertops and bookshelves, he wonders if there is any order in this cluttered chaos. Books are everywhere, they overflow the shelves, lean precariously over the tables, and some are dangerously close to the enchanted burners. 

"How am I supposed to find the book Solomon used in this mess?" He cries aloud. The lab does not answer back and Luke is met with the last thing he needs right now; silence.

Right now, you need a hero, a guardian angel. And Luke will do whatever he has to do to save your special day and free everyone from the effects of the Love Potion.

He takes a deep breath and looks determinedly at his reflection in an old mirror that Solomon keeps around so he can see the physical effects his mystery potions have, "I got this." he says, placing his hands on his hips and striking something that Asmodeus refers to as a power pose. 

This confident posture fills him with hope as the little angel rolls up his sleeves and begins to get to work.

~

"Man, my head is killin' me." Mammon groans, tossing his white hair back onto the back of one of the banquet room's many velvet armchairs. "That damn potion gave me one helluva hangover."

Sprawled on a sofa across the room lies Lucifer, who holds a cold rag to his forehead as he flinches in annoyance at every word from his younger brother. "Silence, Mammon," He murmurs in a murderously low tone. Dark tendrils of energy flare up from around him, darkening the already dimly lit room. "If you continue to run your mouth, I promise you I will string you up till you turn purple."

Mammon's eyes widen in fear, "Right… Noise… Headache… Sorry." he gulps nervously as the dark flames die down. "I'll be quiet."

"Thank you," his brother says, rubbing his temple. "I'm glad we have reached an understanding."

Mammon sinks deeper into his seat as an uncomfortable silence befalls the room. He just can't believe that the afternoon has turned into this period. He was supposed to be having a great time with you and stealing every second of your time that he could. Now, he's confined to the banquet hall, feeling like he just got run over by a pack of HellHounds. 

His head is practically throbbing with discomfort, and all he wants to do is go home and lie down in a dark room with you in his arms. 

'Why did that damn Chihuahua have to go and ruin everything?' he thinks to himself, too worried to speak aloud after Lucifer's threat. If he hadn't eaten that damn cookie, he probably would've been able to steal you away and remind you why he is your First Demon.

He continues to wallow in his self-pity and potion-induced hangover until the door to the banquet hall opens slowly. Levi takes small steps with his squeaky shoes, leaving a puddle of pool water behind him in his wake.

Intrigued by his brother's drenched appearance, Lucifer sits up a bit in his chair, and his cold rag falls off of his forehead. "do I even want to know what happened?"

Levi's eyes widen, and a deep red blush creeps up his neck. "I don't wanna talk about it." He mumbles shyly.

"Why are ya all wet?" Mammon asks from his spot; although he's curious, he keeps his voice low so as not to invoke the Wrath of Lucifer. "Did Mc see how ya were actin' like a jerk and toss ya in?"

"No…" he mumbles, looking down at his dripping shoelaces. "I pulled them in."

Both brothers jolt upwards and look at each other in alarm.  "Oi, what do ya mean ya pulled em in? Didn't ya know humans are fragile? They can't grow gills like ya can, idiot." Mammon spews worriedly. 

Lucifer, on the other hand, has fallen murderously silent, his hands gripping the arm of his sofa until the enchanted wood begins to crack under his palms. "

"I-it's not like I wanted to do it." Levi stutters, trying to defend himself. "I-it was the potion, it made me want t-to keep them someplace only I could get to."

"And do what?" Mammon asks, rolling up his sleeves as if his fist is about to make contact with the Otaku's face. "Drown 'em?"

Levi opens his mouth, but no sound escapes him. His poor brain is too busy trying to process the whirlwind of emotions swimming around in his fandom-filled brain. Guilt, Exhaustion, Lust…Lucifer clears his throat. "Clearly, you are going to have to make it up to Mc after this whole nightmare is over." he pauses for a moment as a bit of shame flashes in his crimson gaze. His features fall as he recalls his previous behavior. "We all do."

"Not me," Mammon adds unhelpfully. This partially true statement earns him a death glare from both his brothers. 

Satan~

"Come on, come one, come on," you mumble as you hold the power button to your waterlogged DDD in vain. But the screen doesn't even humor you with a weak flicker or a hum.

"Shit," you mutter, sliding the dead weight into your still-damp pockets. "Damn it Levi."

Deep down, you know it's wrong to blame the Avatar of Envy for this. After all, it was only because of the Love Potion that compelled him to lure you into the water like some kind of demonic siren and unintentionally destroying your clothes and your device.

But every squeaky step in your still-wet shoes has you wanting to send him the bill for your replacement DDD. 

Knowing how embarrassed he felt when you broke the spell on him, he probably would give you double what you asked for.

With a shrug, you shove the destroyed tech into your soaked pocket and continue your search for the others. 

Although this wasn't the day you had planned for, you have to say this lovey-dovey scavenger hunt of yours is definitely amusing to you. Getting to see the Brothers and apparently everyone else acting completely different is nothing short of entertaining. 

But as you continue to search, your wet clothes feel uncomfortable on your body; if you are going to find everyone before the end of the day, you'll need to get changed into something else. Something dry. Something more comfortable.

As you turn the corner you realize that you have been in this part of the castle before. The familiarity of this hall comforts you as you follow the path to the spare room Diavolo had gifted you for the nights you choose to stay over. Where your dresser of your spare clothing awaits you.

You step into the room as the door shuts behind you a bit louder than you expected it to. Now alone in your safe place, you take a moment for yourself and grab a set of loungewear to throw on; the soft fabric feels much better against your skin than the wet, scratchy garments of minutes past. 

Glancing down at the pile of your wet clothes on the floor, you grimace and take them to your spacious private bathroom to dry over the tub. It only takes a moment, but when you come back into the bedroom, you notice the hallway door is open.

'That's odd,' you say aloud, "I thought that door shut when I came in."

Before fear can begin to simmer in your gut, you are ambushed from behind by a warm figure. You let out a yelp as you lose your balance and fall over onto the carefully made bed with your attacker. 

You squirm, trying to twist out of the firm grip around your waist with no success. When you feel the unnatural warmth radiating from your attacker's skin, you pause and notice the familiar blond head of hair that nuzzles into the nape of your neck. Relief crashes into you like you're a bird in a window cleaner commercial, and you stop fighting. "Satan?"

Upon hearing his name, the Demon perks up and pulls away to get a look at you. And aside from the hearts where his pupils should be, the usually intelligent avatar of Wrath appears to not have a single thought behind his eyes.

"Cutie pie." He hums, reaching up and pinching your cheek. "I missed you so much."

"You missed me?" You tease, a smile curling up on your lips in amusement. You ruffle his layered blonde hair, and he seems to lean into your touch like an eager puppy. His usual cat-like nature is completely gone, thanks to the effects of the strange love potion.

"Soooo much," he whines. "I haven't seen you in forever."

"Oh really?" you hum. "So, what have you been doing up here?" 

"Was looking for you…" hu murmurs, "But then I got lost and didn't know how to find you; I got worried I would never see you again, and I got really sad."

"It's only been four hours." You remind him gently. 

He furrows his brow and cocks his head in confusion. "Oh. How long is that again?"

"Not long at all," you say, taking your hand away from his head. When the Demon no longer feels the heavenly sensation of your touch, he looks up at you with big eyes full of hurt. You feel unbelievably guilty as you place your hand back atop his head and once again return to playing with his hair.

That lovesick smile returns to his face, and you are sure that if he was in his demon form, his tail would be wagging like crazy. His heart-shaped pups seem to come in and out of focus as he looks at you. "You're the goodest ever." he smiles.

"Guess what? You're even better," you respond.

One simple compliment seems to be what drives him over the top. His blush deepens as he tosses his head back and laughs. He giggly kicks his feet on the side of his bed as he wraps his arms around you again.

"Noooooo, you're the bestest." He says stubbornly.

All right then, you win." You relent. "Do you want to know what you win as a prize?"

"What do I get?" he says eagerly, crunching his hands into fists. As cute as he is acting, you really need to break the spell. Cute puppy love is entertaining, but you know that the real Satan would hate the way he's acting now.

Gently, you take your hand and cup his cheek. He's all smiles and adoration as you lean in to claim his lips.

The moment your lips touch his, you feel his body tense up with realization, his posture straightens, and he seems to be recovering his sense of self. 

By the time you open your eyes, the Satan you know and love is back. 

"The details of how I got here may be blurry," he says softly, gently stroking the side of your face. "But ending up here with you certainly was worth it."

Now you're the one blushing.

"How are you feeling?" You ask, taking a step backward to give the Demon his space. "What do you remember?"

"He concentrates for a minute as if he is mentally tracing his steps. When embarrassment takes over his features, you know he has figured it out. "It was the cookies, wasn't it?"

"Yep," you respond, relieved that Satan is back to his usual inquisitive self.  "Luke used a bowl from Solomon's lab, and it had some weird personality-changing love potion in it."

He grimaces, no doubt recalling his behavior. "Mc, words cannot begin to express how ashamed I am of my actions, but I'm relieved that you were the only one present to witness my behavior. If I made you feel uncomfortable in any way, please accept my sincerest apologies."

"It's all good cutie pie." You say, mimicking his lovely dovey attitude from before. 

He freezes and looks at you with a dull seriousness in his green eyes. "What do I have to do to make you forget this ever happened?"

"Hmmm, I don't know if I want to forget about this," you tease him, stepping closer to you to the point you are chest to chest. 

"What If I gave you a real kiss?" he smirks, cupping your face gently. "Nothing like that pathetic excuse for one I gave you earlier."

"Are you bribing me?" You ask, endeared amusement lacing your voice as you look up at the avatar of Wrath.

"Perhaps," he grins. "I've read that kisses are an acceptable payment between lovers."

"Well then, I guess we're doing it by the book." You say, gladly accepting his payment. He kisses you desperately. Seemingly devouring your very soul as if it were the newest edition of his favorite series. But behind the genuine passion and adoration, he moves with a certain intelligence, knowing just what he has to do to take your breath away. 

By the time you are able to breathe your own air again, you notice that Satan is beginning to feel the fatigue from the Potion's effects. His skin looks pale, and you can tell he is trying to fight off the impending headache. "Are you okay?" you ask, keeping your voice soft so as not to cause him any more discomfort as his hangover-esque symptoms begin. 

"Yes, I'm alright," he murmurs. 

"No, you're not. The others were like this too; you should go back to the banquet hall and lay down."

"But what about you?" The concern in his voice touches you, but you know you have to find the others alone. "I don't remember much about the others, but they won't be acting like themselves."

"I'll be fine," you reassure him. "From what I understand about the Potion, they won't harm me. I promise, if I need help, I will let you know."

"Okay, I believe in you." He nods but still looks worried. "But just know, if anyone attempts to cause you harm, I will burn this place to the ground and stomp on its ashes until I am satisfied."

His words send a flurry of butterflies aflutter in your stomach as he disappears around the corner, his footsteps echoing menacingly through the hallway. You have a feeling that his warning wasn't so much as given to you for reassurance rather than set aloud in the hopes that everyone else would hear it. 

Alone again, you step into your guest bathroom to splash some cold water on your face to refresh yourself. 

You definitely need it.

Asmo~ 

You feel like you're being hunted. Every single time you turn a blind corner or step past a darkened doorway, you feel like another one of your cursed loved ones is going to reach out and grab you. 

Despite a few hiccups on the road, breaking the spell on the first four of the brothers has been pretty easy so far. 

All of them have practically jumped into your arms and insisted on the Potion-breaking kiss within moments of seeing you.

Movement at the end of the hallway catches your eye, and you freeze. It's too far away to tell who it is, but you have found someone. You can tell from the way they stop in their tracks that they see you, too. 

Although you do not hate the feeling of getting pounced on and smothered in affection from the beings you love the most, today has you feeling a bit jumpier than normal. The longer you stare at what is most likely a demon at the end of the hallway, the more nervous you get. 

You don't know what to do. Should you run? Should you hide? Your brain can't decide on what to do so you brace yourself for them to lunge at you, but the embrace never comes. 

"Hello?" you call out. The nervous tremor in your voice bouncing off the walls. 

To your surprise, the person at the end of the hallway dashes away, leaving you confused and just a bit scorned. 

"Wait, please," you call, running after them and into the statue gallery. Where you are surrounded by dozens of elegantly carved statues. The darkened room full of figures should make you afraid, but you get a smug sense of satisfaction from being the one doing the chasing this time.

You stop in the center of the room under the skylight. The cool moonlight shines down on you, and you can feel a pair of eyes on you somewhere in the room. "Hey, it's okay. Please come out. I just want to talk to you." you say between huffs. 

 Through the darkness, you hear a small, shy, shuffling sound as the one you were pursuing forward into the light.

Asmodeus steps forward timidly; his steps are clumsy and off-balanced, most likely due to one of the potions' many side effects. His pretty peach-colored eyes were big and sparkling. The heart-shaped pupils and light blush on his face look so fitting on him that you just stare at him in awestruck silence, taking in his beauty.

Instead of basking in your undivided attention like he usually does, The Avatar of Lust shies away from your gaze of admiration and looks down at the floor.

"Asmo," you say gently, noting this difference in his personality. "It's just me; why do you look so nervous?" You give him your friendliest, most encouraging smile and extend your hand out to him.

Just that simple gesture of love and kindness turns his cheeks a furious red, and he takes a quick step back, nearly knocking over a black marble statue of a Demoness with hair made out of pearls.

"Holding hands with you?" he asks in a soft whisper. "I-I don't know if I am ready for that?"

What?

The Asmo you know loves PDA. 

You shake that thought out of your head; this isn't the Asmo, you know. If he's not comfortable with that, you need to make sure that he feels safe with you. Love Potion or not.

"No worries," you say with a kind smile, sitting on one of the carefully carved benches in the gallery. "How about we sit down and talk? Would you be okay with that?"

He nods his head slowly and sits down on the very edge of the bench. 

The two of you sit in silence for what seems like a decade. In that time, he doesn't meet your gaze once, but whenever you don't appear to be looking at him, his eyes are on you like he has an innocent schoolyard crush.

Finally, you decide to break the silence. "how are you feeling?"

"F-fine," he says in a small voice. He shuts his mouth quickly as if he doesn't trust his words around you.

"I'm glad to hear that you're doing well," you say, noticing the subtle change in his body language. He doesn't look like he is about to run off at any moment. "Why did you decide to run from me?"

He nervously picks at his perfectly painted nails, chipping the dual-colored polish and letting the colorful strips flutter onto the patterned stone floor. "I ran because I was nervous. The others are just so bold, and I thought you would want to be with someone more confident and sexy like Simeon."

'Simeon?' you think to yourself. "That's the second time someone mentioned the Angel's uncharacteristic behavior today." Although your curiosity is fighting to the forefront of your mind, you cannot deprive Asmodeus of the attention he craves. 

"Right now, Asmo, I want to spend time with you." you say, "I want to make sure you know how much I care about you, even if you're not as confident as you usually are right now."

His eyes widen with hope as his furious blush creeps up to the tips of his slightly pointed ears. But he is too tongue-tied to utter anything. He goes to shyly cover his face with his hands but you stop him. 

His skin is hot on contact, but you pretend not to notice. You can tell there is something he wants to say. "Asmo, you know you can tell me anything. Right?"

"I can?" he whispers softly.

"Of course you can."

He takes a deep breath and clenches his fist as if he's gathering the courage to force the words from his pretty lips. "Can I kiss you?" He spits it out so quickly that you almost miss his request.

Your smile is victorious, "Of course you can."

"C-close your eyes, please," he stutters, "It's better that way."

You oblige, letting your eyelids shut. You feel him lean in close, his nervous breaths hitting your skin as the spellbound Demon gathers the courage to kiss you.

You don't dare move; this kiss has to be done on his terms, even if it takes all day. 

His breath hitches, and he goes for it, giving you the smallest, quickest peck on the cheek. Before he slides over to the other side of the bench. A melancholy feeling blooms in your gut as you begin to wonder if that little kiss would really be enough to break the spell he is under.

But to your surprise,  Asmodeus' laughter fills the room, and when you open your eyes, you see the Demon's heavy blush and unconfident posture subsiding. 

"Asmo?"

The Avatar of Lust pounces on you, wrapping his arms around you tightly and nuzzling his face into your neck. "You are just too cute, Hon." he squeals, very much back to normal. 

One thing you noticed is that he does not look anywhere near as tired as the others did after the spell is broken. Is it his concealer or is it something else?

He notices the way you are looking at him and gives you a dazzling smile. "It will take a bit more than a silly Love Potion to bring me down." he winks. 

"You remember everything?"

"Mostly," he giggles. "I know there was something in the cookies and then I just started feeling strange. I felt like I was watching some kind of bad reality TV show. If I wanted to do something, it was like my body did the opposite." His features soften just a bit, and he looks at you with sincerity. "Still, thank you for looking out for me, Mc. Even if the real me would want to do more with you than just a cute little peck on the cheek, you waited for the cursed version of me to feel comfortable enough to initiate something, and that doesn't really happen a lot." His eyes turn glassy as he grabs your hand. "When you are as beautiful as me and used to having demons, witches, and everything else throw themselves at your feet, you find that people tend to take every inch they can get."

This time, you are the one who can't speak. The meaning behind the Demon's words causes you to hold his hand just a bit tighter as he blinks away his unfallen tears rapidly. This moment between the two of you may not need anything else right now. When words fail, you can rely on something as simple as silence.

"I should go lay down," he says at last, furrowing his brow. "You have a day to save, and I feel like I just drank a whole thing of Devil's Drink."

"Do I even want to know what that is?" you ask with a voice that seems to scream 'tell me.'

He tosses his head back in laughter. "Ohhh, you are so cute. Devil's Drink is a punch that consists of whatever types of demonus someone has on hand. It gets the party started, but afterward, you have the worst hangover ever. 

"Oh my," you shudder, realizing that you and Lucifer are probably going to need to have a talk with him about drinking responsibly later on. "You should lay down then; the others are in the Banquet hall recovering as well."

He turns and starts to walk away before pausing in the corridor and giving you a sly wink. "Don't you worry, Hon; once this whole thing is over with, I promise you I will give you a proper thank you slash makeup Valentine's Date. Kay?" He puts his fingers to his lips and blows you a kiss before leaving you alone in the statue gallery. 

"I'll hold you to it," you smile catching the kiss he blows your way as the carved figures around you send you encouraging smiles to continue your quest. 

Beelzebub

All of this walking in silence makes you feel as if you are playing some weird backroom-esque game; you feel hyper-aware of your surroundings, listening for even the smallest sound that could lead you to find another one of your cursed men. 

The bottoms of your feet feel slightly fatigued but you are spurred on by the fact you have managed to find at least half of the guys so far. At this rate, you'll probably be able to find everyone by dinner time. 

Passing by a large window, the bright moonlight blinds you momentarily. You squint and step slightly out of the light, taking a glimpse of the miles and miles of dark forest that lies beyond the glass. 

You take this moment to appreciate that so far, everyone is confined to the walls of the castle. This Love Potion has changed their demeanors so much that if they were to get out into the world, they would make quite the spectacle.

Suddenly, a cool breeze hits your skin, and you stop. The two large glass front drawers to one of the back balconies of the palace are wide open, and the sheer curtains are twisting violently in the breeze.

Knowing Barbatos would never allow this door to remain open for such a long period of time, you come to the conclusion that the door was opened fairly recently.

You begin to panic, your heart thrums wildly in your chest, and you worry that you're going to have a heart attack. You rush outside thinking that someone escaped and is out in the Devildom without their wits.

The cold air embraces you as you glance frantically around. Stepping up to the ledge of the balcony, you look down into the giant hedge maze below. It's only known to few if someone were to stumble out in there. It would take a long time to find them.

Swearing under your breath, you wonder if you are really going to have to go searching in the middle of the maze.

Before you can move to climb down the steps, a thin white flower pedal flies past your face, briefly pooping your nose. This little distraction has you turning your head, and you see a massive figure hunched over on a small-looking stone bench just on the other side of the balcony.

You are with a full sense of relief as you make your way over to them more and more flower petals seem to float to the ground. As you get closer you hear that they are mumbling to themselves.

"They love me. They love me not. They Love me. They love me not." You recognize that voice anywhere.

"Beel?" you say as the Avatar of Gluttony turns eagerly toward you and lets out the happiest little squeal of delight. You've never heard him make such an adorable sound before, and it fills your heart.

He springs from his tiny chair and lumbers over to you eagerly. His inhumanly strong arms wrap around you in a bear hunt that is so tight you can hardly breathe. 

"Can't. Breathe." You out topping his arm to get his attention. He pouts but lets you down gently; even though you're out of his arms, he still has a firm grip on your hand.

"Sorry, Mc, I just love you so much I didn't wanna let you go. I've been wanting to be held by you the entire day."

"That's all right, Beel." You spot a flower petal Stuck in his hair, and you gently take your hand up to his face to remove it. He leans into your touch and lets out a happy little giggle.

"I knew you would come for me." He says enthusiastically. "but it took you so long I thought you forgot all about me. So I started picking the flowers so they could tell me if you loved me or not."

Glancing down briefly, you see flowers he was plucking earlier. You recall from a Devildom botany class they are called eternal daisies. No matter how many one plus a pedal from it, grow back after a few seconds. For the Demon to have amassed such a large pile of petals, he must have been doing this for a while.

"And what did the flowers tell you?" You tease, ruffling his hair; his violet eyes follow your hands as if they are about to show him the world's secrets. Your simple touch makes his heart-shaped pupils grow larger by the second.

"Flowers?" He sighs dreamily, unable to think of anything else but you. Curiously, you decide to let go of the gentle giant to see what he would do if you weren't touching him for a second.

His face falls, and he looks at you like you had just told him Hell's Kitchen shut down for good. 

His kicked puppy persona hurts your heart so bad you immediately grab his hand, and the look of pure bliss returns to his features. 

"You're so cute, Mc," he murmurs softly. 

"Wanna know something? You're even cuter." 

He lets out a delighted squeal and excitedly holds you again. The unnatural warmth radiating from his body makes you realize how cold you are out here on the balcony. 

"Beel, would you like to go inside, and we can get you something to eat?" you ask, hoping to tempt him with food. But he shakes his head adamantly. 

"M' not hungry."

Woah. 

You pinch yourself just to make sure you are not dreaming of Beel denying you a chance to eat.

"Isn't it a little cold out here?" you ask teasingly, trying to take his hand and guide the larger Demon backward, but he stubbornly digs his feet into the ground and shakes his head stubbornly.

 "No, If we go back inside, the others are gonna find you and take you away from me, and I won't get to hold you anymore."

"What will it take to get you to come inside with me?" you sigh. Normally, you don't barter with demons, but you are exhausted and just want to get inside.

"Could you carry me?" he asks, his heart-shaped pupils full of hope.

"Carry you?" you repeat.

"Yeah," he nods, swaying slightly, "like a piggyback ride. I am always the one giving them it would be nice to be carried around for a bit."

"That's true," you nod, glancing back at the door; it's only a few steps. "I guess I could try."

You crouch down slightly so the much larger, much heavier Demon can climb on your back. Thankfully, he goes slow so as to not throw you off balance, but you have to reach deep inside yourself to find the strength to move the Demon made of solid muscle who clings to your back.

No amount of strength training could've prepared you for this.

Beel nuzzles his face into your neck as you take step after agonizing step toward the door. When you finally let him down on the ground, your legs feel like jelly but the look of joy on his handsome features alleviates some of your back pain. 

"That was so fun," he laughs, leaning in and kissing you eagerly as a form of payment. Although you are sore from this unexpected powerlifting session, you accept his kiss happily. It starts off tame and innocent, but he begins to lose himself. 

His gluttony breaks through the spell, and he begins to devour your lips like he hasn't eaten in days. 

When he is satisfied, you pull back and are relieved to see that he has returned to normal. "Mc, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't believe I made you carry me." he frowns, holding his hands together so tightly it looks painful. 

"It's okay, Beel, I'm fine," you reply, ignoring the slight pain in your back.

"Are you sure?" he asks worriedly. There is so much concern in his gaze you find yourself immediately reassuring him.

"Still, you shouldn't have to carry me. You need it, I will carry you around.-"cut off by the loud growling of his stomach. "M' hungry"

"I bet you are, "you say. His current state of hunger is overpowering the headache the others are suffering from right now. "you should go into the banquet hall; there's still lots of food left over from the party."

"Are you sure you don't wanna come with me?" He asks, "Food tastes so much much better when I'm with you."

"I wish I could, but I have to find Belphie and the others. But I promise I'll be back soon."

You can tell from the look on his face that he wishes he could carry you back to the banquet hall with him, but he leaves. As he disappears out of sight, you hope that all the cursed cookies are hidden away by the time he reaches the banquet hall so he doesn't accidentally eat any more of them.

Belphie~

There is an uncomfortable knot in your back as you walk; giving Beel a piggyback ride certainly was not what you expected you would have to do today. 

The sound of broken glass reaches your ears, causing you to flinch slightly at the noise. 

What was that sound?

Where did it come from?

Is someone hurt?

Briskly, you walk towards the corridor where you heard the sound, your head on a constant swivel for any kind of danger or lone shard of glass until you reach a small staircase.

You don't think you've ever seen it before; the dark wood looks old but well tended by the Butler's expert hand.

Taking hold of a railing, you begin your descent into the darkened room; you feel along the wall for a light switch until you land on it and flick it upwards.

You find yourself standing in the middle of a massive wine cellar with thousands of unique bottles of Demonus. Surround you and you find yourself mesmerized by all the dancing colors of glass.

In the back corner of the room, you find the source of the earlier crash. Belpheghor kneels over a broken bottle of miscellaneous liquor. Shards of glass sprinkled the pool of deep purple liquid-like islands on the sea. 

The youngest avatar of sin moves quickly, cleaning up the mess with a speed you have not seen from him before. He is so focused on the task at hand he doesn't notice you coming up behind him until you utter his name.

"Belphie, I heard the crash. Is everything all right?

His head snaps toward you, and he beams at you, his whole body seemingly abuzz with excitement as he scoops you into his arms. "Careful, there might be some glass still on the floor, I should hold you until it's safe."

"I hope that bottle wasn't too expensive," you shudder, looking at the remains of the bottle that is most likely older than your family tree.

"Nah, that one was only 500 years old. I thought you would like it since it's not too sweet," he mutters, brushing your cheek with his thumb. " I just read the tasting card and thought you would like it more than all those dusty old bottles."

"Five. Hundred. Years?" you breathe, swallowing nervously. 

"Yeah, that's nothing." he laughs. "I am so glad you're here, Mc. I am so bored. Let's do something fun together." He is overflowing with this excitable golden retriever energy, and you can't help but be infected by it.

"Oh yeah? What do you want to do?" you tease, playing along with him. Although you still have to break the spell on him, you may as well have a bit of fun with this energetic version of Belphie while you can. 

"Let's go hiking," he says at once. "It's too boring here, but someone once told me about a great spot for a hike. I have never wanted to go on it before since I would've rather been sleeping, but I think we could have a lot of fun."

"Oh, that would be fun," you smile, leaning your head against his shoulder, "Maybe we should go on a warmer day. That wind is really cold outside, and it will be hard to look at the stars with all the clouds."

His eyes fill with confusion as he looks at you with his unnerving heart-shaped pupils. "Why would I want to look at some dumb stars when you are right in front of me? You are so amazing I don't think I ever want to stop looking at you." Although he isn't going anywhere, his body can't seem to sit still. It's like he is hooked up to an IV full of Red Bull. 

Nervous laughter leaves your lips, and you reach up to play with his hair. "That's really sweet, but wouldn't you get tired?"

"No," he says plainly. "If I close my eyes, then I won't be able to look at you until I open them again."

"Oh really?" A little plan is formulated in your head. "You mean to tell me you will never close your eyes ever again?"

He smiles innocently and shakes his head. "Never again."

"Not even to blink?" you ask, looking up at him with big eyes. With your head cradled in his chest, you notice that even his heartbeat is accelerated. Is this another one of the Potion's side effects? You make a mental note to remember as much information as you can so you can tell Solomon all about this once everything is over and done with. 

"Not even to blink," he says confidently. 

"Prove it. Staring contest right now." 

The prospect of a challenge intrigues the Demon, and he gently sets you down on top of one of the cellar's many kegs. "What do I get if I win?"

"let's see," you hum, holding your chin in consideration. "if you win, we get to go on that hike right now."

"go hiking! Let's do it." he leans him close, never taking his eyes off of you for a second.

"Ready? Go!" You open your eyes wide and meet his gaze. Now that he is face-to-face with you it makes it a lot easier to steal a kiss from him.

Demon is ruptured in the competition at hand to even think that you're going in for the Bell breaking kiss until your lips are on his. And surprise and lets his eyes close, leaving you victorious.

As he comes back to his senses, Belphie relaxes greatly. His movements are lazy, as is his kiss. It's slow and comforting but perfect, nevertheless.

By the time you pull away, you see how heavy his eyelids are drooping.

"Are you tired now, Belphie?" You ask as he rests his head against your shoulder.

"Mmmmmhmmm," he groans. "How'd I get here? What happened to the party?" 

"There was a potion accidentally mixed into the cookies," you explain. "I promise you I'll tell you everything later, but for now, you should go back to the banquet hall and get some sleep; your other brothers are back there waiting for you."

"Is Beel okay?" he murmurs.

"Yes, He's fine now."

"That's good." he sighs, dragging his feet toward the door. "Thank you for helping with all this. Why do we keep dragging you into these messes?"

"To keep me on my toes, I guess." you laugh, basking in the warmth of the Demon's gaze. 

He smiles at your comment, but then a look of realization crosses his features, and he looks at you seriously. 

"Mc, please be careful," he says suddenly, his left hand rubbing his temple as his headache grows. "I don't know why, but I feel like you should really watch yourself around Simeon."

"Don't worry," you reply softly, trying your best to sound reassuring. "I promise I've got this handled. We will all be back together soon…"

~Thank you for reading!

Part 4 coming soon...

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

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[mrsshabana]

Patient!Gyutaro x Nurse!Reader - CHAPTER 3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

✦ CW: 18+ MDNI, female reader. Dead dove: do not eat. Extreme violence, mentions of self harm, mentions of non-con, mental illness, torture, physical and mental harm, abuse, altered mental state.

✦ AN: This chapter is very very disturbing. Please read all of the content warnings and proceed with caution.

✦ WC: 1,983

It took hours for you to get up from the floor. 

Hours for your tears to stop flowing from your eyes. And days for the pain to recede enough for you to be able to function properly. Not that you did. 

Things were never the same after that.

You couldn’t bear seeing him again. But you do. Even though you haven’t stepped foot in that asylum for a week, you still see him every day. Remnants of him on your body every time you look in the mirror. And his face appears every night in your dreams. 

You took a leave of absence for a week after the incident. You had planned to search for a new job in the meantime, but instead you stayed in bed all week and cried. Every time you looked into the mirror it’d trigger a panic attack, ending with you huddled in on  yourself on the bathroom floor. Breath staggered, eyes wide, and skin under your nails because you can’t stop scratching. You can feel him inside of you. You tried everything to get him out… but it’s like he’s a part of you now. 

Maybe that’s why you came back. 

Came back to the asylum… back to him. Even though you hate him, you feel like a part of you is missing when he’s not around. Like you had to get back to him to fill some kind of void. A void that he created, a place in your heart that only he could fit into. 

The marks aren’t gone, the ones that he left for you as a symbol of his ownership. You have to wear a scarf now to cover the bruises. So deep that even after a week they haven’t subsided. And the new ones on your wrists. Though not from him, you made them because of him. Hopefully no one will notice.

.・゜゜・　♰　・゜゜・．

Walking into the asylum for the first time in seven days, it feels strangely inviting, like this is where you belong. It’s early in the morning so you figure that Gyutaro will still be asleep.

The fluorescent lights flicker down the hallway as you make your way to his dimly lit room. Your heart pounds in your chest. Approaching his door feels like signing your soul away to the devil, but at the same time it feels like being embraced by an angel. 

Peeking inside you see that his room is empty. This isn’t right. Why is his room empty? His room is still filled with his stuff so you know they haven’t moved him. 

Going back to the nurses station in this wing, you look through the patient records for today to try and figure out where they took Gyutaro. They always keep track of all of the patient’s information here, like when they are given meals, therapy sessions, family visits, etc. Everything is kept track of.

“Here we go,” you mumble to yourself, finally finding Gyutaro’s file for this week. He was taken to room 44B. You don’t bother reading what for, all that matters is that you get to your patient. 

The room isn’t far, just through the door on the left and at the end of the hallway. 

Leisurely walking through the hall, enjoying the sunlight warming your skin as it shines through the barred windows. 

“HELP ME!!” 

A blood curdling, raspy scream interrupts the pleasant moment. It sends shivers down your spine, and for some reason causes your eyes to well up with tears. 

“GET MY NURSE!! PLEASE!!”

The voice screams in desperation from the end of the hall. You know that voice but you refuse to believe it’s him. He’s never sounded so, so helpless. It’s so jarring that you feel frozen. 

“NURSE Y/N!! HELP ME!! PLEASE!!” 

The voice gets more desperate.

“NO!! NO!! I’M SORRY! PLEASE GET NURSE Y/N!!”

The room rumbles and the lights flicker as your body moves on its own, desperately trying to get to him. 

“Mr. Shabana!” You shout, tears rolling down your cheeks as you open the heavy metal doors at the end of the hall.

The sight before you is straight out of a horror film. 

Lights flickering violently. A high pitched electric ping ringing through your ears.

Gyutaro lays on his back, wrists and ankles strapped to the bed sitting in the middle of the room. Two nurses stand beside him, one to his left, another to his right. And a doctor stands behind his head, holding some strange device to Gyutaro’s temples. 

His eyes stay wide and his body convulses violently as he’s electrocuted. 

A disturbing whine rumbling in his chest, muffled by the cloth in his mouth. 

The sight is so overwhelming that you feel as though you are being electrocuted in place as well. Seeing him in a position of weakness and pain should bring a smile to your face. He does deserve it for what he’s done to you, doesn’t he? That’s how you should feel. 

When the doctor sees you, he removes the device from Gyutaro’s temples. 

“Ah nurse Y/N,” he smiles calmly, “You’re back from your leave I see. Would you like to assist me?”

He narrows his red eyes, and motions for you to come forward. His long black hair held neatly behind him in a ponytail. You’ve seen this doctor around before but you’ve never spoken to him, only heard rumors about his short temper. 

“Oh um… y-yes sir,” mindlessly agreeing and moving beside him. Looking down at Gyutaro, his body is in a state of shock and it seems as though he is in no state to register what’s going on. 

“One more round should be enough to do the trick,” the doctor grins and hands you the metal device, “Just place these pads on his temples and I’ll turn on the switch.” His voice is low as he speaks. 

You nod and hesitantly move the device to Gyutaro’s head. Looking down at him, he looks so pathetic and weak. Just like you had. But you’re the one in control now, and he’s at your mercy. 

Gyutaro’s eyes slowly roll back to look at you, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he whimpers. As if he’s begging to be shown mercy. 

But where was your mercy when he violently assaulted you?

The doctor ups the voltage and flips the switch, sending a powerful electric shock straight through the device and into Gyutaro’s body. 

This should bring you pleasure. It should make you happy! He deserves this doesn’t he? After what he’s done! Feeling sympathy for such a monster would only mean you are just as bad as him. 

The restraints clack against the metal bed frame as his muscles contract from the second electric shock sent through his body. The shock is so strong that even after the doctor ceases his ministrations and you remove the device, Gyutaro’s body is left trembling in place. Contorted and petrified,  eyes wide open, teeth clenched tightly around the gag that muffles the inhuman wail that continues to come from him. It’s eerie how the sound doesn’t falter, continuously leaving him as if his soul is trying to escape the prison of his body. 

“There,” the doctor takes the device from you and pats your back, “Well done Miss Y/N! Mr. Shabana will be on his way to recovery with your help.”

Staring down at Gyutaro’s pained body, you can’t take your eyes off of him. “Y-yes… he will,” your voice cracks as tears roll down your cheeks in unison with the ones rolling down Gyutaro’s.

After the electroshock therapy, Gyutaro is left a lifeless husk. Unable to do anything, move his body, or even speak, you and the doctor have to pick up his body after removing his restraints and put him into a wheelchair.

You cry all the way back to his room. The other nurses give you confused glances as you push the most violent patient through the halls. His body sits limp in the chair, barely able to hold himself up as a continual low moan escapes his lips.

Getting back to his room you quickly close the door, not caring that it’s against protocol, and assist Gyutaro onto the bed. 

He’s heavier than he looks. Propping him up on your shoulder in an attempt to hold him up, but you’re too weak. He falls back into the chair. 

“Mr. Shabana? Can you hear me?” kneeling down in front of him, you hold his cheek in your palm. 

He doesn’t even move his eyes to look at you, his head moves heavily in your hand. Able to maneuver him as if he’s a life sized doll.

“Please Mr. Shabana,” you whimper as you start to break down, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

Leaning forward and wrapping your arms around him, you bring him forward in a warm embrace. You sob on your knees, resting your forehead on his chest. He doesn’t react at all, just sits there and lets you use his body for comfort. 

You lose track of time as you cry into his shirt and spew incoherent apologies he doesn’t deserve. 

“Gyutaro,” you look up at him and wipe your eyes. This time his irises move slowly in your direction.

“Y…Y/N,” he groans. You can barely make out the word as drool slips from his mouth and down his chin.

“Yes! That’s it Gyutaro, it’s me,” you smile through your tears, “I’m here, don’t worry.”

Pulling a tissue out of your pocket and using it to wipe his face. You caress his cheek and move his face to look at you, “How are you feeling?”

He stares at you with an unchanging, lifeless expression. It’s terrifying seeing him this way, you rather he be his usual cruel self than be a hollow shell. 

You don’t know what to do. His brain is so fried that he can’t even manage to speak, let alone comprehend the words coming out of your mouth. Occasional spasms tremor through his body, causing his limbs to twitch. 

Deciding that the best thing for him right now would be rest, you put your arms under his armpits and attempt to move him onto the bed again.

“I’m going to move you to the bed, ok? Can you stand for me, sweetie?”

You do most of the work, but he barely holds himself up with trembling legs. This time you’re able to get him onto the bed. Gently laying down his body and sitting beside him.

“I’m going to let you rest now, I’ll come back to check on you in an hour,” you say as you move his hair away from his eyes. 

As soon as you look away and start getting up to leave, you hear a faint whimper. A shaky hand weakly trying to grab your arm.

“D-don’t… leave me…” he croaks, watery eyes spilling tears onto his cheeks, “Please.”

Seeing this man crumble before you should feel good. It was only last week that he had assaulted you, mercilessly taking advantage of your body, showing no mercy. He was so strong back then, and look at him now.

But seeing him in this state doesn’t feel good. The pain you feel is excruciating, almost worse than what he had put you through that day. 

“Oh Gyutaro,” you can’t stop your tears from flowing, “I’ll never leave you.” Sobbing as you crawl into the bed beside him. He latches onto you like a child holding onto its mother. 

Gyutaro wraps his arms and legs around you, clutching onto you like if you left it’d mean he’d die. His only comfort would be gone and he’d lose it. Nuzzling his head into your chest, he soaks in your warmth as he rides out the painful spasms that shake through his body.

“You’re safe with me,” you whisper to him, stroking his hair to comfort him, “I will never abandon you.”

Taglist: @gyusimp @sterzin @sassysaxsolo @cry-baby-stuff @hutchilli @rasshu-benaio @pastelbluecloudy3 @idekwhyihavethisl @migueloharaslovingwife

[jinxhallows]

kinktober #oo1 | costume party

KINKTOBER 2023 || jinxhallows costume party (knife play) || lino x fem!reader summary: you and minho have been together for some time now, and you two get invited to an adult costume party at your local community center. not otherwise having an excuse to get dressed up, you convince him to go with you... warnings: knifeplay and all the things that entails (like SHARP BLADES and the DANGER OF BEING CUT, knicks, blood, etc), suggestively dub-con if you literally SQUINT, non-idol AU word count: 2.5k masterlist - click here

You have to admit, when the two of you agree on your Halloween costumes, you don't expect his choice to elicit such a reaction from you. You find yourself in front of the bathroom mirror, adjusting the fluffy bunny tail attached to your costume. You crane your head over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the reflection to figure out what's happening. Just as you're struggling to make sense of it, your boyfriend enters the room. He's fully dressed as Ghostface for the annual Halloween party downtown. Kneeling down, he positions himself at eye level with your derrière, taking the tail into his hands with meticulous care.

With skilled fingers, he expertly repins the tail where it should be. Standing up, he lifts the Ghostface mask off his face, revealing a grin that speaks of mischief and excitement.

“I look pretty badass, don't I?” He asks, holding up his prop knife and pulling his mask back down over his face. "You do," you admit, trying to hide a smirk, "but the Fisher-Price butcher knife ain't cutting it, get it? Cutting it." Minho slides his mask back atop his head. He’s not amused.

His lids drop, and there isn't a trace of a smile on his face. He has taken your comment personally, particularly your jab at his choice of prop.

Your playful banter continues, and he retorts, "I could always get a real one, you know. We have plenty in the kitchen."

"And we would get arrested? You can't have real weapons at a Halloween party, Min. Are you crazy?"

His response is simply, "Yes."

You exchange a bemused look for a few seconds before grabbing your purse off the bathroom counter.

"Come on," you sigh, a grin breaking through the tension. "We're gonna be late." -

You both arrive at the costume party just in time to socialize with everyone and start drinking. It's right in the middle of the peak attendance time, so various creatures and ghouls with intriguing costumes fill the venue.

Amid the crowd, you notice a few Ghostface costumes, a popular choice for Halloween. As you stand in the hallway, waiting in line for the bathroom, you don't pay much attention to the people passing by who are also dressed like your boyfriend.

You've had a couple of drinks, and your tolerance isn't high, so your battery is rapidly running out after almost two hours at the party. You lean against the wall next to the bathroom with a sigh, growing annoyed at how long the person in front of you is taking. You pull out your phone and start texting Minho:

im over it.

Almost instantly, the bubbles indicating his reply in progress pop up,

me 2

wya?

You start typing your response.

"What's your favorite scary movie?"

In the dimly lit hallway of the community center, the presence of someone behind you initially startles you. However, when you turn around and see the person in a Ghostface costume, you roll your eyes.

"Haha, you got me, asshole."

The individual tilts their head to the side, extending their arm and flicking a thumb to reveal a very real, very sharp switchblade.

You step back immediately, your eyes wide with shock. This isn't your boyfriend; it has to be one of the other partygoers.

That's when you hear it—Minho's laughter, muffled underneath the mask as he slides it atop his head.

"Fisher Price, huh?" he teases.

You shove him with the heel of your hand into his chest, and the person ahead of you exits the bathroom, glancing between the two of you standing on either side of the door before walking away. You manage to catch the door before it closes and enter the stall, your earlier fright quickly dissipating. As you lock the stall, you can hear the DJ outside, urging everyone to hit the dance floor at that very moment.

"Good, perfect timing for us to slip out," you think to yourself.

You finish up, clean yourself, and go to wash your hands, rubbing them together with soap until they get nice and foamy. As you look up at yourself in the mirror, you notice that your makeup has lasted far longer than expected, and your nose is still marked with bunny whiskers drawn onto your cheeks.

You can't help but crinkle your nose at your reflection. You actually look really fucking cute.

The doorknob twists and pushes open, and you scramble across the room, an immediate realization dawning upon you—you'd forgotten to lock the door.

"Back up." Minho commands with a hushed urgency through the slender crack in the doorway. Instinctively, you grip the other side of the door, momentarily mistaken, thinking it might be someone else. However, the recognition in his eyes eases your anxiety. You yield, taking a few steps backward, granting him entry. As he crosses the threshold, you efficiently swing the door closed behind him, the definitive click of the lock resounding through the room. “There’s no way you had to go to the bathroom that bad.” You say, turning away from the door and facing the mirror. Leaning forward, you meticulously adjust your bunny ears, finessing them to sit perfectly centered. In the reflection, you observe your makeup once again, and pinch your upper eyelash, delicately securing the tiny, unruly section that threatened to lift.

In that moment, Minho's hands snake around your waist, pulling you into a close embrace from behind. His chin nestles atop your shoulder, the mask he was wearing still perched atop his head. A contented smile spreads across his face, his eyes sealed shut. He's intoxicated, not just from the night but from his deep affection for you.

“You make such an incredibly cute bunny, you know that?” He whispers, his lips tenderly pressing against your cheek. “Yeah, I do.  That’s why I dressed up as one tonight, duh.” His smile drops as he opens his eyes. Again. He’s not amused. He sighs thoughtfully, the air in the room thickening.  “You know, sometimes I fantasize about strangling you in your sleep.” You struggle to stifle the snigger that bubbles up from within you. "Yeah?" you taunt, subtly pressing your body back into his, playfully swaying your bunny tail as laughter escapes your lips. You secure his hands that rest gently on your tummy, holding them in place. “What part gets you off more? The struggle, or my last breath?” “Oh I don’t know…” Minho's response carries a sudden shift in tone, his voice adopting an unexpectedly innocent quality as he slyly slips his hand from underneath yours. His fingers trace along your hips, leisurely making their way to his back pocket, all the while maintaining unbroken eye contact with your reflection in the mirror.

“If I had to pick, I’d say that fear,” In one swift, chilling motion, he retrieves a switchblade from his back pocket, the audible click of its deployment making you involuntarily wince. The cold metal of the blade is brought swiftly to your neck, its back pressed gently against your throat, and you instinctively clutch his thighs behind you, a tremor of unease coursing through you at the unsettling contact of the knife against your skin. “That, right there, the moment before you die, when you really realize it’s about to be over.” Minho continues, his gaze dropping from your eyes to focus on the delicate curve of your jaw, which tilts slightly to the left. Your chest rises and falls beneath the ominous presence of his weapon, your breaths growing more pronounced. A heavy silence ensues, broken only by the sound of his sharp inhale through his teeth. “Yeah, that’s the part that gets me off.” “Min, this isn’t funny-” His left arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer as his warm breath brushes against your ear. “Y/N, nobody’s laughing.” A lump forms in your throat, noticeable even through your thick swallow, as you feel the cold edge of the blade he's holding.

The sudden change in your posture prompts a furrow in his brow, his gaze shifting downwards to where your cheeks curve beneath the sides of your bodysuit, creating a tantalizing silhouette that pushes further against his growing erection. “You’re really getting hard…at the idea…of murdering me.  Min, that’s–” “It’s not to the idea of murdering you, I was fucking kidd–” “-kinda sexy?” It's enough to halt Minho in his tracks, a wry, half-hearted chuckle escaping his lips while a faint smile lingers on his face. With a casual gesture, he lowers the knife to his side, shaking his head in amused disbelief at your side before he returns his gaze to your reflection in the mirror.

Your own response is an infectious giggle, and he simply shrugs, readjusting his mask over his handsome features. “You’re so weird,” Minho remarks with a touch of humor in his voice, his dark chuckle gradually subsiding. His left hand gently cradles your jaw, tilting your head upward. With precision, he places the tip of the knife right at the junction where your ear meets your neck. You remain entirely compliant, entranced by the sensation of the blade's subtle pressure against your skin. It's a subtle reminder that even the smallest movement could lead to an inadvertent cut. Surprisingly, both of you find yourselves unexpectedly at ease.  “Is this seriously turning you on?” he inquires, curiosity tingeing his voice as he traces the blade's edge down the side of your neck, towards the apex of your full breasts. You watch him in the mirror, and yeah, Minho is pretty to look at, especially when he fucks you, yet, in this moment, his disguise as Ghostface adds an intriguing layer of taboo to the situation, as if you're venturing into uncharted territory.

"Hey," his voice pierces the air, sharp and commanding, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “I asked you a question, and you know I don’t like being ignored.” “Y-Yeah,” you breathe, your voice trembling slightly, “I don’t know why, but it's turning me on.” “I know why,” A soft chuckle escapes Minho's lips, and he allows the blade to glide toward the V-shaped neckline of your bodysuit. Applying the gentlest of pressure, the fabric splits almost instantly, without the need for any sawing motion. As he pushes further down, the knife cleanly separates your suit into two, stopping only when it reaches your navel piercing. “Because you’re the one fantasizing about me killing you.” As soon as he says it, it becomes clear. Those nights you’ve spent with your hand around your throat, stars bursting behind your eyes as you would work yourself into a state of frenzied pleasure, gasping out his name.  It wasn’t just about being choked, Minho does plenty of that in the bedroom with you, instead, it was about pushing the boundaries, teetering on the precipice of discomfort, and riding the exhilarating edge towards climax. It had always been a deeply personal exploration, something you'd never shared aloud, let alone admitted.

Yet now, as Minho uncovers your secret desire, you find yourself rendered blissfully ecstatic by the mere sensation of a switchblade brushing your skin at various points on your body.

“You ruined m-my costume,” You make a poor attempt at resistance as his left palm squeezes your breast, causing you to grip the edge of the ceramic sink harder.

“You wanted me to,” Minho presses the flat side of the blade flush between your folds, your breath quickens as he grabs your chin, directing your face back to the mirror.

“Say it.”

“I wanted you to.” You give in.

“Wanted me to what?”

You swallow.  “I wanted you to ruin my costume.”

Minho takes the knife away, pulling his mask up and off, shaking his hair out as he looks at you in the mirror.  “My, you do make a reaaally hot bunny, baby, do you see yourself?” His voice is getting raspier as his gaze falls onto your body in front of him, down your back, and he angles his hips forward, against your tail.

“Thank you, baby.”

You have no choice, his grip underneath your jaw is still tight.  You move your head up and down, barely, acknowledging yourself the way he’s asked you to.

Your submissive tone takes him by surprise as he looks back up to you.  “Where’d all that attitude go?” He cocks a smile, and you flinch as you feel him slip his knife between your skin and the fabric of the gusset of your bodysuit.  He wastes no time in cutting it, the stretchy fabric snapping against your skin as it separates. 

Minho puts the knife between his teeth, using both hands to rip the nude stockings, another senseless layer keeping him away from your delicious pussy, followed by your thin g-string that he slides aside, bringing his hand back to pull the waist of his pants down, gripping the base of his cock that sits so perfectly at your dripping entrance.

Then you have the audacity to speak up.

“Min, hold on,” Your sense returns, if only for a few seconds, “We’re at a party, what if we get caught?”

It’s enough to get him to remove the knife from his teeth and hold the dull side against your throat, but pressing in enough to make your breathing more audible.

“We won’t get caught if you keep your mouth shut.” His eyes watch you from the side, his mouth slightly ajar, as he slides himself the rest of the way inside of you to the hilt.  He laughs under his breath, thrusting inside you again, a little harder this time.

“Good bunny,” you bite your lip hard to contain yourself as he slaps your ass, holding onto your hip as he fucks you, never, not once, letting up off your throat.

“M-Min-“

“Shh,” he whispers, the tip of it against your lower lip, “Be quiet and let me fuck you, you’ve been asking for it all night.”

You extend your tongue, the blade flattened against the moist muscle, and your eyes roll back involuntarily as you release an audible, desperate moan. Sensing his proximity to climax, you feel the pressure ease on his blade, his ragged breaths escaping through his flaring nostrils. His head falls back, the blade clattering into the bowl of the sink, warm, sticky spurts of cum painting your walls, his hips spasming while you contract around him. You instinctively push back, stimulated by the feeling, your inner muscles squeezing him, while his hands come to rest on your hips, torn between wanting to stop you and being too ensnared in the pleasure's aftermath to act.

Finally, he regains his composure, blinking and widening his eyes as he lets out a sigh, his cheeks puffing up momentarily. He gazes at your reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah, you definitely get off on the idea of murdering me.” you remark, picking up his switchblade and securely locking it back in its place. You turn to face him, a smirk playing on your lips.  "And you'd better escort me out the back; I'm completely exposed now, you asshole." You gracefully move past him into the stall, tending to the remnants of his release running down your bare thighs and legs.

He chuckles, 

“Ah, there’s the attitude.”  - fin

[fieldofdaisiies]

Late Again

ship: Eris x Reader type: angst warning(s): none word count: 1,8k words request: I have this idea on my mind for a while. Eris is always busy now that he is a hight lord and he starts to come late in bed and etc. One day they have a big fight about it…

The room is dim, cold, the branches from the looming trees outside hit the windows and the walls of the Forest House due to the wind that has started some time ago. 

You sit on the edge of the bed in the dimly lit bedroom, your gaze fixed on the clock ticking away on the nightstand. The minutes stretch into an eternity as you wait for your mate, Eris, the newly crowned High Lord, to return home. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts long shadows against the wall, they stretch out, long and far, and a sense of disappointment hangs in the air.

'Tonight we will have an evening together. We can bathe and read a little, huh? What do you think?'

Well, you thought it was an amazing idea — absolutely, having been craving some time alone with your mate for weeks. But now, as solitude wraps around you like a thick cloak, you are reminded once again that it was just an empty promise. 

You had hoped that tonight would be different, that he would finally be able to leave his work behind and join you. But once again, the High Lord business holds him captive, and your heart cracks with disappointment about him once again not being here. Your shoulders slump, a sigh parting your lips and you gaze at your knees, absently. 

Eris is a good male, a good husband, a good mate, but the High Lord business is just so much, and he often forgets everything outside of this job. You know how important it is for him to be a good High Lord, you support him all the way, also aiding him with advice and time. But still, you are longing for closeness outside of the High Lord business. You just want to fall asleep in his arms once again, want to read him with, bathe with him, take long walks with him, make unhurried love with him. Kiss him. Except for small pecks in the morning you haven't really shared a proper kiss in weeks and this…hurts. You feel like you are somehow losing him to his job, like he is drifting away from you. 

You pick up a book from the nightstand, trying to distract your mind from the ache that lingers in your heart, stretching out by the minute. But your thoughts wander, and your eyes often stray from the pages to the door as you listen for the sound of his footsteps. 

Outside night has fully settled upon the Autumn Court, making the uneasy feeling inside you just grow as you tear your gaze away from the window and look back at your book. 

Memories flood your mind - laughter, joy, and love you have shared with Eris. You hold onto them when tears start to burn in your eyes. 

You tap your fingers against the pages in the book, opening your senses and the bond fully, deciding to let him feel exactly what you are going through right now. If Eris hasn't shut down his side of the bond, which he would never do, he must feel it all, every single emotion coursing through your body. And maybe, right now this is exactly what he needs. 

You place the book back in the shelf, not being able to read a single thing, your mind way too occupied with thoughts about him. 

You wander through the room, sighing as you drag your heavy feet over the cool oak of the floor. You glance at your reflection in the mirror, seeing a female with a heart full of patience and a soul longing for her mate. With a deep breath, blow out the single candle, letting the room fall into a darkness before you climb onto the bed you normally share with Eris. The stress is on normally. In the past weeks, you mostly fell asleep without him and woke when he was already gone. 

Your fingers brush against the cool sheets, and you are reminded of the warmth that is missing. The bed feels vast, empty and cold without him in it. You remember how Eris always used to warm you when you were cold, how his large, warm body wrapped around yours and he kept you warm when you shivered. 

The moon's gentle glow shines through the window and you swallow around the lump in your throat, a single tear sliding down your cheek. You close your eyes, your mind drifting still so loud inside your head. Despite the disappointment, you hold onto the belief that tomorrow will bring a new day, a chance for you both to be together and maybe you can finally talk to him about everything, maybe he will finally listen. 

The door bursts open with a loud pang, slamming against the door. You sit up immediately, shock rushing through your whole body, as your heart seizes and the breath catches in your throat. Still caught in a stupor, you find yourself saying, "Cauldron, Eris, you scared me."

He stands in the doorframe, both irritation and slight shock etched upon his features. "You are alright…" He breathes and it is a statement, not a question and it angers you.

No! No, you are not alright. You are far from it.

"I thought the worst," Eris breathes and leans against the doorframe, visibly exhausted. A thin film of sweat graces his forehead — he must have rushed here. "I thought you were in a dangerous situation, or being attacked, or-" "I wasn't just feeling that well," you mumbles and pull your legs up to your chest. "That is it." "The emotions were so strong," he answers, assessing you. 

The only light in the room comes from the sconces in the corridor, illuminating Eris' frame. He crosses his arms over his chest, exhausting visible in every line of his face. And then he exhales, long. "What is going on?" he asks, his voice cold.

His eyes meet yours, and there's a moment of silence, the unspoken weight of disappointment filling the space between you.

"You're late again. You weren't here again. Even after you promised," you finally say, voice tinged with a mix of sadness and anger.

Eris breathes out a tired sigh, his shoulders slumping as he runs a hand through his hair. "I know, and I'm sorry," he says, his tone carrying an emotion you can't quite place. He is not angry with you, right? That would make absolutely no sense.

"You're always sorry," you retort, unable to keep the frustration out of your voice. "But it is all I ever get. A sorry and that is it. I'm tired of waiting up for you night after night. Day after day. Week after week."

A muscle ticks in his jaw as Eris holds your gaze, his eyes glowing with a mixture of guilt and exhaustion. "You think I want this? You think I don't want to be with you?"

"It's not about what you want," you snap, your voice trembling a little. "It is about you not being here. And honestly, if you really wanted it, you would be here." The accusation weighs heavy in the air, thick and strong as it hits your mate like a slap. 

Eris steps inside the room, closer to you, his expression remorseful. "You know how important High Lord business is. I need to change things, need to do things better, be a better High Lord than Beron was."

You shake your head, feeling burn in your eyes. "I understand that, but what about us? What about our relationship? It feels like you're choosing being a High Lord over me, over our time together. And you are an amazing High Lord already."

Eris closes the distance between him and the bed you sit on and reaches out to touch your arm, but you pull away. "I'm not choosing being a High Lord over you. It's just... complicated."

"Complicated?" you spit, your tone incredulous. "What is complicated? Spending time with me?" You know you might sound silly and needy, but you don't care. He is your mate, and you have spent hardly any time together in the past month. 

The High Lord of Autumn sighs loudly, his hand dropping to his side. "I'm trying my best for the Autumn Court…it is what the people deserve after all this time with Beron."

"I see that. I see what you do for the people of the Autumn Court," you reply, your anger so strong in your voice. "But I also see that we're drifting apart. I miss you. I miss us. I miss what we once had. I miss out bond."

Eris looks at you, his expression softening and this time you allow him to touch you. His thumb swipes over your upper arm in a soothing motion, his chin lowering a little. "I miss us too. I don't want things to be like this."

"Then what are you going to do about it?" you ask.

He takes a deep breath, looking deep into your eyes. "I try to find a way to balance things better. I don't want to lose you. I know that the High Lord business is a lot, but I also know that I miss you greatly. Our time together. And that I want to fall asleep with you in my arms in the evening. That I want to go out for walks with you every day. That I want to have time to love you."

Tears bubble out of your eyes and down your cheeks, and you nod. "Thank you. You are my mate, Eris, I can't lose you."

"I know," he whispers, leaning in, his lips brushing your forehead. "I can't lose you either. I love you more than words can describe."

Between you there is still tension, the argument so fresh, but also a glimmer of hope you hold onto. Change is about to come, you know you can take your mate by the word. You know your love is strong enough to overcome this. And you know that you will also be just as supportive with his business as before, but also that he will make the right decision and will really take a step back and be there more for you — for your time together. 

"Let's sleep now, shall we?"

His clothes disappear in an instant and then your head rests on his warm chests, his hounds cuddle up on the lower end of the bed and he kisses the top of your head before you enter a sweet slumber, finally together with your mate. 

~~~~~~~~ tags: @sunshinebingo @tarataraaaa  @brekkershadowsinger @azriels-mate123 @mandziaaa  @cosmic-whispers @mali22 @elsie-bells @imma-too-many-fandoms @kuraikei @ginnyweasley06  @bubnix  @powerfulpantera 

[nomorefstogive]

Our Dearest Sin Chapter 4: To Fix A Problem (Crossposted on Ao3)

Hello all, this is a copy paste of the newest chapter of my PtN fic on Ao3, as well as my way of letting all of you know that I am in fact, still alive.

Summary:

She was born to do this, to fix the mistakes of others so that those she serves could prosper, and now she once more donned that most dreaded of masks to fulfill her horrific duty, all to insure that the woman she loved would be safe. After all, she was born and made to fix problems.

Notes:

Hello again everyone, I am sorry for the rather lengthy delay that has occurred with me posting this chapter, and for my lengthy silence on tumblr, I was working on a variety of other projects, not just my other fics…namely the 40k plus word chapter for my Azur Lane fic, but also a subreddit that has cropped up that I am quite fond of, r/PrimarchGF. Before we begin, let us offer our thanks to JimBoReee for braving this mess of a fic and acting as our Beta for this chapter, they are a wonderfully talented and creative person so please go and check out their works, you will not be disappointed. A link to their profile: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JimBoReee/pseuds/JimBoReee That said, today we are going to take a slight detour from the wholesomeness and humorous atmosphere of our previous posts and instead take a few steps down a much darker path. I invite you one and all to take a moment to steel yourselves as this will be quite the departure from has been established as the norm of this story, I will attach some trigger warnings below for what this chapter will contain. TW: Murder. Torture. Attempted Murder. Attempted Suicide. Suicide Coercion. Blackmail. Abuse. Mental Torture. Psychological Torture. Hurt No Comfort. Yandere Themes. Shalom Being Angry. Non Consensual Touching, mentioned in one portion. Racism Against Sinners. Implied Homophobia. Manipulation. Mental Trauma. Physical Trauma. Etc. For those of you who are still here, then we welcome you one and all to this newest act in the play of this fic, with that said- Let the show begin!

To Fix A Problem

There is an old saying that goes, “When it rains, it pours”, and as the young man sat at the candlelit table, blood trailing from weeping gashes and narrow cuts as tears that gleamed ever so faintly amidst the light of the flickering flames of the twin candles that sat upon the table before him, eyes so empty as to be mirrors of the Void itself regarding him with cold disdain, he knew it well to be the case of the saying being more than true. 

Dimly the man thought of how this had come to be, how it was that was sat at this table of exquisitely carved mahogany wood, his blood and tears seeping into the plush velvet lining of the chair he sat within as he watched the figure across from him take in his suffering and horror, his cries and screams and blubbered pleas falling upon the sepulchral silence of the room and unflinching face of the one across from him as water upon a duck’s wings, failing to do not but display how futile such actions were in the face of the Absolute before him. 

Eyes heavy lidded with caked blood and stinging with tears shed and un-shed, rested upon the case before him, polished onyx metal of origin unknown casting not the faintest reflection of light and instead seeming to hungrily devour it with grandiose delight as it waited with baited breath for what it knew would come to pass. 

As his trembling fingers began to move to open the container, many times failing to pop the latches that held fast the case like the teeth of some abhorrent maw despite the almost anticipatory ease with which they popped open when he did manage to lay his fingers upon them, the man recalled with another heaving sob how all of this had begun.

It felt like days ago that waking had come to the man not with gentle caress of promises and wonders unseen, but with the bitter stinging whip of pain, a fog of agony such that it tinted the vision white and black as one neared the precipice of oblivion’s sweet embrace once more that would have served to engulf him whole once more were it not for the sudden jostling of the world around him, his bound hands unable to offer any aid as he was flung upwards, an already battered head connecting with solid metal, causing yet more constellations of agony to form.

Tears had slipped unbidden from his eyes, wetting the dried blood that had crusted them near to shut and allowing for the man’s narrow field of haze ridden view to expand somewhat as he his mind sluggishly tried to process just what it was that was happening, though such thoughts and questions were soon vanished as yet once more the world went white with agony as his body was jolted once more, something which prompted broken bones and cuts that had gone mercifully numb to once more sing out in a choir of hellish agony.

The exquisite agony of what felt to be a hundred-hundred razor thin cuts and several snapped and shattered bones should have made the man scream out, wailing like a child holding fast their parents hands amidst a blazing inferno, and yet instead there came but a low and wet groan, vocal chords unresponsive as the man came to be aware of an unnatural feeling of sluggishness that had seized him fast, the feeling having been hidden away behind the sensation of waking and the pain that had soon accompanied it.

His heart had begun to hammer in more than just pain, a sensation of dread enveloping him as a rapidly spreading slick of oil would upon the sea, lungs tried and failed to take fast breaths as each sudden motion caused supernovas of agony to envelop him, forcing him to slow his breath and to try and still his heart, a whimper slipping past the young man’s lips as he tried to take stock of the situation, though his thoughts were in too much a state of disarray to be anything approaching coherent or cohesive. 

Clarity came but ever so briefly, waves of frigid terror enveloping him in an all consuming grasp of such force that the breath he managed to take in left his lungs entirely during theme moments, gasps of horror and despair slipping from torn lips that parted into silent sobs that soon bled way to gasps of pain and then back into whimpers of agony as the clarity vanished once more under the tide of misery. 

Why was he here?

What was going on?

Why was he so badly hurt?

Why were his hands bound?

What was he in?

Where was he?

Again and again these question had come to him during those brief moments, though they were ever left unanswered as the man languished in his misery, his silent sobs growing as the jostling became more and more frequent, his body being cast against what felt to be walls of cold metal, his vision soon went black once more, oblivion swallowing him as a particularly hard jostle sent his head colliding with the wall behind him with such force that consciousness fled him.

As yet another latch upon the case came undone, the man thought to himself that it was far too kind that the striking of his scalp upon the unfeeling metal had not delivered him unto the merciful embrace of the most kind Oblivion, and had instead merely been the briefest of interludes for the pain to come, for soon enough he had been awoken again, the jostling having yielded way to the sound of metal doors being cast open.

He had not had time to even open his mouth before hands reached into the space he was housed within and seized him, his body crying out in agony as the towering figure tore him free of the container, manacles snapping under the strain with which they had torn him from them as he was cast into the mud, the Blue-Rain caressing him with frigid needles as he tried and failed to move away from the being that loomed over him, his movements stopping when he felt a hand seize him by the ankle as the figure began to drag him through the mud, his sobs of pain being drowned out amidst the downpouring rain.

His vision swam, dried blood and fresh mud now blinding him such that he could not discern where it was that he had been taken, only that around him loomed monolithic buildings and streets adorned with cracks and gaping wounds of craters and shattered windows and walls, the stench of filth and mud field his nostrils and the taste of dirt and blood flooded his mouth as he tried and failed to cry out for help before his captor began to haul him down the street, dragging him with a lone hand as though he weighed not but a twig’s burden to them.

Faintly he thought he not only heard his captor speaking, their voice oddly muffled as they spoke into what must have been a phone for a moment before they were silent once more, but that he also saw figures moving amidst the shadows of the buildings that loomed around him, empty windows and doorways seeming to form mocking sneers and cruel smirks that regarded his torment with perverse glee, yet when he blinked the figures were gone and only the iron grip around his ankle that drug him over cracked and shattered streets remained.

At times he thought he smelt something over the rain and filth of the streets he was being hauled down, something almost floral that seemed to mock his senses with its ever faint presence, though such a thing was swiftly banished from his mind as his captor paused in their march to lift a heavy hand and bring it down upon a door of cold metal that lay nestled in the shadow of a building.

After administering but a single knock to the door, the towering figure cast open the heavy construct of cold steel with deft ease, the same ease with which they suddenly flung him into the building, his ribs crying out in agony as a series of sickening cracks and pops sang out from within him as an agonized choir, the loudest and most vocal of said agonies there came when his flight at last ended, his body slamming into a metal pillar, the blow making his world turn white as his mouth parted in a silent scream once more.

As the white left his vision, and darkness began to creep in once more, his blurred vision faintly registered the form of his captor, weeping eyes alighting upon a towering figure clad in what seemed to be some form of uniform odd metal contraptions resting on their arms, and a sneering mask covering the lower part of their face, their visage made all the more horrifying by the baleful crimson scar that burned across their face, the glow of which reflected like hell-fire amidst their baleful eyes as they advanced once more. 

Oblivion claimed him with the blow of a boot to his head, and the faintest sound of mocking chuckles echoing from the shadows that now loomed to devour him. 

*Tap*

His reverie was broken by the sound of a single manicured nail tapping the wooden table, a look of disapproval flickering into those abyssal eyes as the figure across from him regarded him with glacial apathy, yet beneath that apathy and within that void that swirled were a soul should be within their eyes, he saw the faintest flicker of something that bid his trembling hands move with due speed, trembling fingers fumbling the latches once more before he at last managed to pop yet another open.

A flicker of a smile graced the face of the one across from him, sharp and cold, the edge of a scalpel ready to peel through his flesh and let him bleed across the floor before her…no it’s arctic gaze as the figure watched with cruel anticipation as yet another latch came open before the man paused once more, yet more plaintive cries and whimpers beginning to form on his lips as he saw the light of the candle ever so faintly reflect off of a dark amethyst gem that lay embraced in a band of silver.

The sight of it making his heart begin to hammer once more, tears beginning to trail from his eyes as he fought the urge to fall to his knees and beg and plea to the figure before him once more, he had long come to realize that even the most desperate and humiliating of please and cries for mercy would fall upon ears that seemed to be cast from the same glacial stone that the figure’s heart had been for all of the good that they seemed to do.

Indeed, all said please had ever managed to warrant from the figure was a disapproving look before they beckoned towards the towering woman that stood behind him, hands strong enough to pulverize bone lifting him up and then slamming him into either the pillar she had been leaning against or the floor before she tossed him back into his chair, a snarl of seemingly apocalyptic fury scorching its way from her throat as she seemed to be held back from taking his life by some unseen hand or order as she left him there before returning to her post.

Again there came a loud snap to fill the otherwise silent room, the shadows seeming to come alive as they writhed and danced in an obscene serpentine manner, tongues of darkness caressing his body and vision as her looked at the final latch on the case, faintly he thought there came, from depths unseen, a chorus of voices, mocking and derisive, so potent their disdain and contempt for him that his blood ran as ice, though with but a blink the looming darkness and mocking words vanished as his hand hovered over the final latch. 

Swallowing down a wave of vertigo and nausea, the man looked up at the figure across from him, bloodshot eyes of dark oaken brown caked in bruises and mud meeting glacial light purple eyes, as the man forced himself to speak up once more, his gaze flickering from the figure’s eyes to the ring that it had sat before it. 

“Y-you promise…” He coughed up a wad of blood and flem that landed on his pants, a moment being taken to catch his breath before he lifted his head once more to continue his final plea to the figure before him. 

“You promise me you’ll leave them alone? They…they had nothing to do with this…this was all me and those dumbasses, leave my family out of it.” His voice, hoarse and yet oh so faint, weak to the brink of shattering and yet resonating with the last few strands of great strength the man could summon forth filled the room, the stillness that followed his words seeming fit to crush him under its weight even as it deafened him with its intensity. 

For a moment there was only the sound of the the creaking of the attire of the figure behind him as he watched the thing in human skin across from him tilt its head in silent thought for several moments, light purple eyes looking down at the ring in contemplation before the figure at last spoke up, that haunting voice, the dulcet tone of the Devil as he purred in your ear, broke the silence as well. 

“As I told you before, I will not lay a hand on them, nor will any of my subordinates. So long as you keep your end of the deal, then nothing will happen to them, but should you fail… then I cannot vouch for their safety.” The thing finished its statement with that faux smile, something that would not have looked out of place on a mannequin of porcelain and plaster, yet upon the face of a human did not but lend to it a visage of something alien and horrific, a perverse mockery of human life so naked in its debauched falsity that it was sickening to behold. 

With a heavy sigh of relief, the man took a deep breath, the tranquil calmness of someone who knew that they now stood at the end of their journey enveloping him as he popped the final latch of the case, taking a single moment to take in a breath before he opened it and let his eyes behold the contents of the case.

In the same vein as the exterior of the case, the interior was made of a stygian material designed to gently envelop and shield the contents of the case, said contents being little more than a single vial, barely the size of his index finger and yet seeming to be as large as the very planet itself as it say there before him, the dark crimson liquid semeing to radiate a glow of baleful scarlet so intense that it cast some of the shadows of the room aside, the darkness seeming to flee the encroaching light as though it was the scythe of Death itself. 

Faintly, the man noted how the scarlet light seemed to have a mind of its own, tendrils and garlands of dark crimson and brighter scarlet energy hungrily caressing each exposed inch of the room that it could, wisps of energy caressing the towering figure behind him as a master would an obedient pet, with a similar gesture being granted unto the figure that sat before him, the crimson glow seeming to cast upon those light violet eyes the glow of hellfire. 

Still enveloped in the tranquility of finality did them an reach out and pick up the vial, sparks of a sensation not electric or searing or frigid, yet some perverse amalgamation of each of them racing through his skin and into his very blood like a tidal wave of jagged glass that cut and tore and shredded all it touched, leaving behind mangled wounds that soon found themselves smoothed over in a deluge of scarlet power that twisted and made mockery of the very nature of the human soul. 

His hand was no longer his own. 

Of its own accord, as though possessed of a will more ancient and malign then the hideous expanse of the cosmos that seemed to swirl and churn around the Scarlet Moon that had crested over the Broken Frontline in that very moment, did his fingers gently pop the cork off the vial, ever so carefully bringing it to his lips even as his body unconsciously tried to jerk away from the vial before him.

Those same hands that had nearly snapped him like a twig now lashed out once more, fingers seemingly formed of granite and rebar in their unyielding might digging into his face as his mouth was forced open, gloves dense enough that his teeth could have done not but ever so faintly tickle skin beneath keeping him in place as they and that was once his own brought the vial to his mouth and began to upend it. 

As the first drop touched his tongue the man realized that he had been wrong, it was not liquid, more some form of semi-solid gelatinous mass, perhaps more likable to plasma than anything else found in nature or crafted by the hands of man and monster alike, began to flow down his throat, the same alien sensation that had engulfed his hand now enveloping his body entirely as waves of agony like nothing he could ever no washed over him again and again. 

Faintly, he realized that he was seizing, his body rebelling with all that it had, each and every base cell and molecule warring against the horrific might that now began to dig into him with ravenous fury, frigid and molten glass shards tearing him apart over and over again as liquid tides of molten agony assailed him at the same moment clouds of scarlet suffering flooded his lungs, choking his cries before they could leave his lips. 

At once his body felt full and empty, as though each drop of blood, each minute molecule had gained great and terrible weight one moment, only to flicker out of existence and leave him adrift in a senseless shell of misery the next, with the constant fluctuations of sensations tearing at his mind, razored claws sinking into succulent flesh as the fangs of madness began to gnaw hungrily at his mind, pits of madness beckoning ever so sweetly-

“Stop.”

Yet to him was such mercy denied, for there came over the agony that drowned out all else a voice that was not a voice, a weight and sensation that forced itself into his mind with the might of an avalanche, power so suffocating that it left his breath frozen in his lungs as his bodily functions ceased in obeisance to the order. 

A triangular mark filled his vision, parting the sanguine and onyx haze that had so mercifully enveloped him the silver white glow of the mark burning with such radiance that he could do not but attempt to flee its encroaching blaze, though to no avail was this mental flight, for garlands of ivory enveloped him as razor wire, pulling him into a realm of burning light and searing agony, his mind bound and shackled fit to do not but linger at the whims of the Mark.

“OBEY.”

Words yet not words, sensations yet not sensations, thoughts not his own and yet born in his mind echoed within his head as the Mark seared itself into him, nameless terror enveloping him for reasons he knew not as he languished in the unyielding grip of the Mark and of its horrific Will, though more there came for yet another voice low and soft, like the most gentle of spring breezes came into his ears, words unknowable to him mixing with the scorching orders of the Mark.

At last there came reprieve, when he felt the most tender of touches upon his chin, his vision flickering to see a new pair of eyes, their color so eerily reminiscent of the Devil’s and yet somehow worse in the cruel delight that gleamed in them as that soothing voice purred into his ears once more.

“Sleep now.”

His world went black. 

For how long this lasted he knew not, only that when he at last came to his senses it was to yet more pain, his body crying out in a thousand-thousand different tongues as he lay sprawled across an ochre floor of an empty room, table and chair and case and Monsters gone, leaving him alone in a puddle of his own blood and bodily waste, bile forming a halo around his head. 

With a whimper of the agony of flayed and torn nerves did the man try and force himself to rise, his bones feeling like shattered glass that cut and tore at him from within as he tried to force his arms and left to obey, only to fail as he fell down with yet another cry, tears flowing freely down his face as he desperately called out for mercy, though mercy there came none, for alone he laid in his own waste and tears. 

How long had he laid there in misery, hours, days, weeks? 

He could not say, only that there came at one point amidst the agonized delirium that had enveloped him a caress so saccharine in its gentleness that he could not have ignored it even had his mind not been on the brink of total annihilation, and so it was that as that most delicate of caresses swept through his very soul that he found the resolve to once more try to rise. 

It was agony, near to the absolute most sublime in its totality and might, yet still it was less than what had once assailed him when he had tried to force himself to rise, and thus it was that he could grit his teeth till he heard them crack as he rose from the floor, a joyful cry slipping past his lips as he did so. 

His arms braced around the pillar that the Beast of the Monster had once rested against, the man felt tears begin to slide down his cheeks once more, though these were not just born of the agony that assailed him, but also of the joy that filled him at being able to move, to walk, to live once more. 

He had thought the Devil had meant to kill him with the poison in that vial, some form of sorcery born of land’s unknown no doubt, or perhaps even the result of some form of Witchcraft of those Abominations that were corrupted by Mania, perhaps it had been too weak compared to his own will, perhaps the pain had been the fullest extent of it’s promise of suffering. 

A low chuckle, delirious and maddened, slipped past his lips as he began to force himself to move through the building once more, each step prompting flashes of white hot agony to assail him, though even such misery could do nothing to stop his smile from growing and his heart from singing. 

Yes, the Devil had failed to kill him, and now he had the chance to go back to his family, this time wisened by his agony and suffering, at last ready to heed the words of wisdom his wife had spoken to him and try a new lease on his life. 

He would go home, hold his beloved and kiss her as if his life depended on it, then he would hug his children and kiss their foreheads, sure they would have to move, perhaps even leave Dis itself if that Devil’s words about what it and its fellows had discovered was true, but all of that paled to just being able to be with them again.

‘I never should have let that dumbass talk me into it,’ he thought to himself as he braced himself against the wall he knew to be near the door, ‘fucking idiot couldn’t even do the job right!’  

A flash of irritation tore through him at the final thought, his hand clenching into a fist before it struck the wall, tears beginning to fall once more as he thought of all he would have to do to protect his family now, the company so long built up would have to be liquidated, their assets joining it before they left Dis, their names, perhaps even their faces, needing to be changed to avoid being found by the Snake and its pets. 

All he could do is hope that the Devil kept her word and that the rest of the Snake’s Monsters did not find before him and his had managed to flee the city, but he-

There was something on the door.

He blinked in confusion as he saw a piece of white paper held fast to the door, perhaps by tape or glue he could not tell, the immaculate white paper standing in stark contrast to the dark metal of the door, and making it seem as bright as the sun to him as he walked towards it, drawn by that ever so delicate pull. 

With a final pained groan he managed to get before the door, his hands braced on either side of the metal door as he lifted his head to look at the paper before him, a single word staring at him in simple print.

A word that made his world go white.

The word in question?

Hush.

Line Break

He blinked as he came to his senses once again, his head throbbing such that his vision was not but a flickering haze of agony, objects being near one second and far the next,each of them enveloped in a haze of grayish white that left him unable to fully process just what it was that was going on around him, let alone where it was that he was.

Unbidden he tried to take a step forward, his footing giving out in the next moment as he landed upon his front, his chin striking solid wood with force enough that he felt his teeth crack within his jaws, blood beginning to drip past his lips and onto the ground as he let out another low whimper of pain. 

For several moments he laid there, his vision darkened near to total blackness as he tried to make sense of what it was that was going on as he rolled onto his side, curling into a ball as he tried to wait for the pain to fade enough so that he could try to rise once more, something which seemed to last several moments of laying amidst a pool of his own blood and what felt like a stick carpet that clung to his body.

What must have been a few hours passed before the man was able to force himself to rise once more, his vision swimming in agony as he tried and failed to brace himself against what he could only assume to be a wall, with his hands failing to grasp the material due to an odd wetness that clung to them, with him falling down once more, though this time he was able to stop himself before he could fully fall his slick fingers digging into the carpet with as much force as they could as the man tried to force himself to rise to his feet once more.

Once more did he wait for several moments before he rose again, this time crawling froth on all fours as he looked up, a glimmer of light passing through what seemed to be a cracked door beckoning him forth as once more there came that saccharine pull, this time it came as a spreading of morphine, dulling his pain enough so that he could rise to his feet and stagger through the door, the light blinding him for several moments. 

How he wished it had blinded him forevermore. 

The first thing he noted when his vision came back to him was the mirror that rested before him, his eyes alighting on a mud and filth and blood caked face as though it was the visage of a stranger, his eyes were so bloodshot that he could not even discern the original color of them, only the paths blazed by his tears revealed his fair skin and the freckles that adorned it.

‘I know everything about you. Who you are. Where you come from. Where your family came from. Where you work. Where you had your first kiss. Even where and when it was that you made love to your wife for the first time.’ 

A chuckle slipped from his lips as he leaned down, turning on the sinks taps to pool water into its basin to splash on his face, a sigh of bliss slipping past his lips as he watched more and more of his face, of himself, become visible as more and more of the mud and blood and grime fell into the drain, staining the once cleaned ivory to near black, though he paid it no mind. 

‘I also know where your children go to school, who their teachers are, who their friends are, and where said friends and their families live. Your eldest son, Marquel needs to brush up on his mathematics, a C- at his age is quite a poor showing, even your youngest Gabriel is doing better than him with a B+.’ 

Groaning in bliss he reached out to grab at a towel he saw resting near the mirror, savoring each moment it touched his yet tender flesh as he dried his face, a moment spent basking in the softness of the material of the towel before he removed it from his face and tossed it aside. 

Yet as he tossed it aside, something caught his eye, something that to most would have been the most innocuous and meaningless of things, and yet to him was as monolithic in its imposing grandeur and the terror that it managed to stoke in him, such a small and fragile thing that made him turn to the door and begin to tear free from the room even as pain assailed him in full once more.

The plastic soldier, standing at attention beside the small toothbrush as though it were its nations flag, caked in blood such that the whites and blues of its armor were drowned near to brown, watched him go with dead eyes even as the pain tore at him with ravenous fingers, the saccharine pull vanishing as a cloyingly sweet laughter rang out in his head, the agony joining it in a chorus of mocking misery. 

‘A snap of my fingers, a word spoken in a single ear, and all that you love and know can and will vanish into the aether as if it never existed in the first place…A threat? Huh, I suppose it is fair to assume that you would not understand the severity of your situation, perhaps this can help you understand things. 

*Clink*

The jeweler lied to you by the way, the diamond is nowhere near as pure valuable as she led you to believe, I believe hse overcharged you by about 235.23 Discoins, though that is not taking the changes that taxes have undergone since you purchased the ring into account.

I assume you understand me now, correct?’

His shoulder slammed into the wall with enough force that the drywall gave way to form a small hole that snared him in place for a moment before he was able to pull himself free and begin to race down the hallway, or rather try to race down the hallway as once more his footing gave out on him and he fell onto his front, carpet burn assailing his face even as he tried and failed to rise once more. 

Tears had begun to fall as rain from his eyes as his heart thundered such that all other sound vanished amidst the roaring backdrop of terror fueled adrenaline, his lips moving in incomprehensible cries and gibbering pleas that failed to rise above whimpers and groans as he forced himself to move down the hall once more, crawling his way forward once more, mad hope and terror fueling his flight. 

‘I’m glad to see you understand the weight of my words now Elliot, but you don’t need to be so afraid, I am well aware that you were not the only guilty party in this situation, in fact your role was quite minor, but it still warrants punishment. 

Though if that punishment involves your loved ones or not is up to you, if you do what I ask then your family will be spared any attacks by my hand, and I will do the best that I can to mitigate the actions of my fellows, though the most I can promise is a head start to escape them.

Do you want to hear my offer?’

Elliot could swear that there was laughter echoing amidst the agony, mocking and coy it haunted his every step as he tried and failed to force himself forward once more, his strength failing him as he fell down into the sticky carpet once more, though this time he was able to see just what it was that had made it so sticky.

‘All you have to do is take responsibility for your deeds and show that you are willing to earn your second chance, and while this may sound daunting, I assure you that it is not as difficult as you think.’

His eyes widened to the fullest they could, a sob slipping past his lips as he began to cry in full, a soundless shriek leaving his lips as he beheld the scene before him, his already frayed and tattered mind beginning to tear at the seams entirely, though merciful madness was once more denied to him by twin mental grips, forcing him to remain aware and cognizant of what it was that lay before him. 

Heaving sobs slipped past his lips as he began to blubber, his tears blinding him, though doing nothing to lessen the horrible clarity of vision that plagued him as he beheld the scene before him. 

‘All you have to do-’

At last Elliot found his voice, at last he found himself able to speak, and speak he did, a low whisper of a mind on the verge of shattering and yet denied such merciful oblivion, a word that once made his heart swell with joy but now tore at him with talons of burning ichor. 

“Mel-mela-melanie?”

‘-is Die.’

His wife’s severed head stared back at him.

Distantly Elliot noted that chunks of her scalp had been torn away to reveal the white of her skull, which had similarly been fractured and torn in many an area to reveal the pinkish hue of her brain, as though by the maws of some great beast, her eyes, once the most wonderous shade of sea-foam green he had ever seen had shared in her brains fate, as they seemed to have been torn free of their sockets, with not but ichorus tears to flow to mark where the eyes had once been.

Lips adorned with the light blue lipstick that she was so fond of had been torn and split such that her teeth would have been visible in many spots even had her mouth not been fixed into an expression of horrid terror and agony even in death. 

Her body…was everywhere.

Draped over the ceiling fan and across the chairs and couch, caking the walls and ceiling and carpets and even the table and TV, was her body, her skin and bones and blood and organs all laying in a chaotic mess that field the air with a fetid aroma that he was only now aware of, his senses having gone blind to it until he focused on the scene before him. 

With all the strength Elliot had left in his body he forced himself forward on his hands and knees, delicately lifting his beloved’s head to into his lap as heaving sobs tore from his him, filling the silence of the room, cries and anguished howls soon joining them as he found his breath returning to him as quickly as it left his burning lungs. 

Distantly he recalled the words Melanie had spoken to him nearly a week ago, when she had pulled him aside from their construction company’s meeting with that…Thing from the MBCC. 

‘I don’t care what you think about Sinners or about her! If this investigation goes well for us and we get the job, then we can have more doors open to us than ever before, so keep your mouth shut, smile and play nice or you had best be fuckign ready to sleep in that car of yours!’

As Elliot held his wife’s head close to him, his world becoming nothing but the howling cries of anguish that slipped past his lips and the warmth of what blood had yet to dry seeping from her mangled stump and onto him, he could not help but recall how he had thought her to be mad to even consider playing nice around such things as that woman and her pets, but now he knew better, his wife had been right the whole time.

As he cradled Melanie’s head he thought to himself of how it had come to this, how stupid he had been to even consider that fucking stupid plan to be anything more than the ramblings of a delusional fool spoken amidst a shared drunken stupor. 

A moment of joy at seeing a figure collapse to the ground in agony as a bullet tore its way through her chest, two cones of ice cream falling to the ground as she did so all while his cousin remarked how disappointed he was that they didn’t take her alive, was not worth the price of his beloved and his…oh…oh God no…

“Ma-Marquel? Gab-Ga-Gabriel?” He managed to choke out, a whimpering sob barely above a whisper at first, though soon he managed to force his lungs to cry it out louder, hoping beyond hope for a reply, though none there came. 

Tears spilling from his eyes, Elliot delicately set his Melanie’s head down on the ground as he forced himself to rise, his eyes roving over the living room and thankfully not alighting upon the mangled corpses of his children, though of little comfort was this when he was once again faced with the viscera painted walls of his living room, bile barely held back from spilling past his lips as he forced himself to turn and-

Something clattered on the opposite end of the hall…right where his sons shared room was.

It could barely have even been called a plan, being born of his anger at losing such a lucrative contract and his wife’s misplaced anger at him, alongside of his deluded fool cousin and his own hatred for both the Things that the Snake used as it soldiers and the Thing that lead the organization, her refusal of his advances, and the sickness on her face when he had tried to touch her, along with the punch she had given him, having only solidified his disdain for her to the point of the fools idea. 

Without a thought he began to race towards the hall with as much haste as he could muster as he called out his son’s names once more, barely averting falling face first onto the carpet several times as he did so, his mad dash ending when he rammed into the wall at the end of the hallway, his shoulder screaming out in agony, though he paid its desperate cries no mind as he turned to the doorway

Barely had the noise begun to grow before he had lunged forward, smashing aside the door with all the force that he could muster, the wood giving way under him with much greater ease than he thought it would, though he paid this little mind as he lifted his head to see what it was that had caused the commotion.

The first thing he saw was his children, their faces soaked in tears and mucus as they huddled together in a corner, Marquel having taken up the metal baseball bat he had given him as a birthday gift in defense of his brother, uncaring of the blood dripping down from a weeping gash upon his brow and what seemed to be a shattered arm as he stood before the trembling form of Gabriel, the youngest of his sons having closed his eyes and covered his ears as he wailed. 

The second thing that caught his eye was what it was that loomed over his children, and what was currently lunging at him, scything blades for claws aimed directly at his throat even as a maw of needle like teeth opened with a howling shriek to tear out his throat should the claws fail to do their mission. 

With a cry Elliot leapt backwards, narrowly avoiding the claws that came within a hair's breadth of his neck, the fetid reek of unwashed flesh adorned with scars and pockmarks that hung loosely from its unnatural form filling his nose as soulless white eyes set upon a field of sanguine tainted eyes met his own, hunger and hate beyond all sane comprehension burning as hellfire within them as the creature moved forth again. 

Yet helpless prey he was not, for with all the fury he could summon forth to protect his children he lunged forward meeting the beast charge with a shoulder check that sent it sprawling against the base of the bed, the creature barely having had time to right itself before Elliot was atop it, a wordless roar slipping past his lips as he seized its arms by the wrists, his head meeting its own with a headbut that made his vision blur, but prompted the beast to cry out as its head flung backwards.

“RUN NOW!” Elliot yelled out to his sons, barely having time to register the sound of what he assumed to be Gabriel racing past him as his brother cried out for him, the smaller child fleeing past his father and down the hall, with his eldest following him as soon as the beast let out a roar of its own and began to fight back, a snarl slipping past its lips as it slammed its own head forward in full, the headbut being made more damaging as the beast’s fangs sunk into the tip of his nose, the creature throwing its head back as it tore the chunk of flesh free from his face with a cry of pain. 

Though soon the pain faded as adrenaline seized him in an iron grip, his vision tunneling until he could see not but the creature before him, his hearing becoming not but the sounds of his thundering heart and the shrieking howls of the beast as the two fought, furniture being flung aside and shattered as the two grappled, Elliot narrowly avoiding the needle like fangs as he held the beasts hands by the wrist so as to avoid its claws.

For a time their battle seemed to be a stalemate, neither gaining nor losing ground until at last an opportunity came for Elliot to gain the upperhand in their struggle, as one of the boys stray socks, something he had reminded them time and again to pick up, was caught under the beast’s foot with the creature slipping backwards as Ellito took advantage of the space made to relinquish his grip on the beasts arms as he lifted his leg up and brought his foot down as hard as he could onto the creatures head.

A loud crack filled the room as the beast’s head met contact with the hard wood of the dresser, a whine that soon bled into a shrieking cry slipping past the beast’s lips as it tried to rise and lunge forward once more, only to be denied the chance as Elliot lifted up the closest object he could find, in this case Marquel’s computer monitor, and brought it down with as much force as he could on the beast’s head.

The first blow seemed to stun the creature as it fell backwards once more, its hands lifting up to shield itself from the following attack as Elliot rained down strike after strike, the monitor cracking and fracturing as he brought it down again and again, acrid brown blood that reeked of rot and decay tainting the monitor and the beast’s arms and the ground around it as the broken glass of the monitor, shattered after a hard blow, bit into its skin.

Howls and cries slipped past the beast’s lips as it fought to defend itself, one clawed hand slipping from over it face to grasp a handful of dirty clothes that it cast at Elliot’s face, the sudden act making Elliot lose his momentum as he had to swat aside the clothes, only to be met with the beast ramming into him with full force, the blow sending him crashing into the ground as the creature took the chance leap past him, cries of agony slipping past its lips as it fled in the same direction as his boys had run. 

A roar slipping past his lips, Elliot forced himself to his feet as he grasped the broken monitor once more before he tore out of the room, slamming into the door to his and Melanie’s room as he did so, any thoughts of racing inside to acquire the hand-gun he had under his bed being tossed aside as he heard a commotion near his front door, adrenaline and rage driving him forth to abandon all logic as he raced down the hall to where he could see the beast trying to claw open the door, one hand hanging limply at an off angle and the other so slick with blood it seemed to have given the door a new paint job.

Seeing a chance to finish this battle, Elliot raced forward, the monitor raised high as he prepared to-

*CRASH*

The wall beside the door erupted in a shower of drywall and plaster, a hulking form lunging forward with speed that it should not have been able to possess,one hand, the size of Elliot’s own head seizing the monitor and tearing it from his grasp before he could bring it down, the titanic hand seizing his wrist with a bone breaking grip as the other collided with his face with all the force of a sledgehammer, his vision swimming as darkness lashed hungrily at the edges of his sight for a moment before the figure brought another blow directly into his stomach, the blow nearly making him vomit as he staggered back before being jerked forward and hit once more.

The last sight he saw before darkness claimed him, was the creature that had butchered his wife and nearly torn apart his sons as well, seeming to flicker and shimmer, its form distorting and changing before his eyes at impossible speeds as soon he saw the form the creature had taken. 

His wife.

His Melanie caked in her own blood, a broken hand being held to her side as figures adorned in full black armor pulled her from the home.

Armor adorned with the symbol of a silver double-headed serpent coiled around an M. 

Line Break.

How long ago had that been…the passage of time had become so distorted to him that Elliot could no longer tell whether it had been hours, days, or even weeks since the day when his world had been torn apart.

He could only recall in vague distorted flickers the way that he had awoken in a brightly lit room, his arms and legs restrained as he sat bound to a chair, a woman with aqua colored eyes that seemed fit to glaze over in permafrost from the sheer intensity of the frigid glare she had fixed upon him,  standing across from him, her fingers clutching a clipboard so tightly that he thought it might snap in twain under the strain of her grip.

Vaguely, he noted how her lips were moving, each syllable seeming to come through gritted teeth as she spoke to him, yet her words were unintelligible, as though spoken through great volumes of water, with only the emotion present in each word reaching him, for no matter how hard it was that the woman tried to maintain the facade of a professional there was only so much she could prevent the seemingly ever growing fury that had taken root within her from seeping into her words.

Dimly he noted that she was not alone, his eyes were barely able to pick up the presence of two other figures standing with the woman, one whose gender he could not discern stood with a shield attached to their arm, their blue eyes were narrowed near to slits as visibly restrained themself from taking action.

The third figure was one he could not fully see, only vaguely registering that there was a figure steeped in the shadows in a corner of the room, a gaze as sharp as a razor blade fixated on him, with all the lethality of the same blade being drug across an exposed jugular, as the figure silently watched the going ons.

Faintly, he thought he smelled something floral…something familiar though he could not tell where from, when he focused on that corner.

“*** *** ******** ** **!?” 

The aqua eyed woman snapped at him, the words were  yet still unintelligible, though the sheer weight of the frigid anger that coated them in permafrost made all too clear that whatever it was she had said was something that required his attention, though he knew not how to respond.

But Elliot could not respond, his mouth refusing to move under his command, no words he wanted to say leaving his lips as the woman visibly grew yet more angered at his silence, with her seemingly at last losing the battle with her patience as she moved to stand before him, the weight of her glare increasing till he felt he would be ground into dust beneath it were she to not avert it soon. 

“******* **!” 

Again she spoke, and yet again he could not understand her, the distortion that enveloped her words seeming to mock him as he struggled to try and discern just what it was that was happening at this moment, his mind and body weighted down yet still by some form of torpor which served to only further hinder him from responding to the woman or making sense of what was going on in the room.

The woman seemed to only grow in her fury at his silence, her teeth visibly gritting against themselves for a moment before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, an ominous stillness, like that before a great storm broke, enveloping her form before she turned about on her heel and began to walk away, seemingly calling out to the figure by the door as she moved to leave the room.

Desperately, Elliot raged against whatever force it was that held his tongue still, trying with all of the might that his enfeebled body possessed to try and speak up, to try and plead for answers to what was going on, where he was, and why he was bound…

And this time his body acquiesced to his demand, though not in the way he wished.

“She deserved it.”

At first he did not know where the words came from, for he could not believe that he was capable of speaking words so heavily coated in frigid acid as the those three words had been, but when he saw the woman go still, the eyes of her guard widening as their lips parted in surprise, he knew that they had come from him.

But he had not spoken them, Elliot knew that, he had not thought those words, nor had he tried to say them, so why was it that they had-

“What did you just say?”

At last the distortion passed, the words emerging from the depths of some sea of unintelligible gibberish to grace his ears with the frigid fury of a blizzard as the woman turned her head to look at him, the lone aqua eye that was visible seeming fit to catch alight with a flame of arctic frigidity as she gazed at him.

Beside her, elliot noted how the guard’s jaw had clenched their arms visibly straining with the effort it took to hold themself back from lunging forward and hitting him with their shield with all of the strength that they could muster, something they were prevented from doing but by their own professionalism.

Though that thin strand was in danger of soon snapping as their own temper began to grow. 

From the shadows across the room there came shuffling sounds as unseen figures clenched their weapons and readied themselves to lunge should the order be given or their tempers boil over too much.

Though none of this horrified Elliot more than the realization that it was not so much his body could not speak, as much as it was that he could not speak through his body, his form moving of its own volition as it spoke once more, his struggles against the words that began to slip past his lips being drowned out by the flicker of a blazing triangle and a wordless command that echoed as thunder in his mind.

‘OBEY.’

And obey his body did, as words began to pour forth once more, each syllable prompting the horror Elliot felt to grow, his eyes kept from widening in terror only by the commands that seemed to have seized fast his body in an all consuming grip.

“I said that whore you call your ‘Chief’ deserved what happened to her, all she had to do was spread her legs for someone like she does for all of you freaks and none of thi-” His words died on his lips as something struck him across the face with enough force to cast himself and his chair to the ground, blood beginning to drip from a split lip across his cheek as hands clad in leather gloves seized him by the collar and lifted him up as the shadows violently shifted and stirred, whispers of malice baying for blood held firm by a silent order from another.

Elliot looked up, his eyes meeting the aqua colored eyes of the woman who had eben interrogating him a moment earlier, her eyes were wide and her pupils shrunken to pinpricks as she held her clipboard before her, ready to swing it with all the force she could muster, though it was not her who had stuck him, for such an honor belonged to the third figure, who now stood before him in full.

A lengthy cane of silver metal was wordlessly lifted up to allow for the figure, a woman clad in a white hat with a feather upon it, a white coat, which hung loosely from her shoulders, a purple shirt with a dark plum colored tie, a chest harness, and a gray skirt and high black boots, to wipe away the blood and saliva that lay atop its base with a handkerchief held in black leather glove clad hands. 

With an unspoken command she directed her only visible eye, a green that seemed to have been engulfed in the frigid malice of the 9th circle of hell itself, to the guard who had stood beside the door, the figure offering a silent nod before they stepped forward, the crunching of the ground under their boots and the way the light cast their form in shadow as they loomed over him only serving to make Elliot’s heart hammer yet louder still as he braced for the attack to come.

Yet no attack came, instead the guard moved to seize him in an iron grip, self-control of near divine proportion battling with an inferno that burned within their eyes, waves of hellfire coming alight and threatening to sear away his flesh and bone and even his very soul should that control fail, though for now the rage was throttled, held fast in place by will and restraint alone as she sat him back up, pausing but to direct their gaze at the cane wielding woman after she had done so.

“Cinnabar, would you please take our little Songbird and go and get some rest,” her words were delivered in a tone that brook no dissent, steel as unyielding as it was sharp forming each words as she moved to stand before him, bidding the guard, Cinnabar, to move aside.

Again his lips opened of their own accord, words of hateful condemnation forming atop his tongue and readied to spill out yet again, though this time it was upon his own tongue they died for just as the first few slurs had begun to slip past his lips had their gazes met.

The fly looked into the eyes of the Spider.

Elliot felt his heart freeze, blood turning to glacial water as eyes of frigid emerald bore into his very soul like the fangs of a spider, faintly he noted the scar that rested above one her eyes, though he paid it little mind as the longer he stared into those eyes, the more he thought he felt the sensation of spider legs crawling upon him, strands of silk binding him fast as he tried and failed to get himself free from a suffocating grip as the woman watched him writhe.

Salvation from the terror that had seized him came in the most unlikely of forms as a voice spoke up from behind the woman.

“Director tha-” The Adjutant was cut off by the woman rapping her cane on the ground, a small series of spider-web cracks radiating from where the metal tip had struck the concrete below them, her hat now covered both of her eyes as she took a deep breath before she turned to look over her shoulder at the Adjutant, aqua meeting emerald as he silently awed at the Adjutant enduring the stare without flinching, let alone quaking as he did. 

For a moment their gazes were locked, with the somewhat smaller woman nodding her head at last as she turned to allow for the other figure to escort her out, though just as she had begun to walk away, and the woman’s gaze had turned back towards him, the smaller woman called out once more.

“Director.” The taller woman turned her head just enough to both keep an eye on him and to look at the woman over her shoulder, the smaller woman pausing to take a deep breath to steel herself before she spoke once more.

“Should I send… them in?” 

Again there came a brief pause, stillness such that Elliot dared not to even breath for fear of disturbing it enveloping the room in an all encompassing grip, a silence so deafening that even the thundering of his heart seemed to be swallowed amidst the cacophony of total silence.

And then the silence broke, words spoken with such naked cruel delight that Elliot could not fight the whimper that tore from his lips the phantom control of his body allowing for the action seemingly out of mockery of his plight as the woman turned her gaze towards him, her lips curling up into the smile of  a victorious predator.

The smile of a spider seeing a particularly juicy fly caught in its web. 

“Go ahead, the more the merrier.” 

The aqua haired woman offered a nod before she and the guard left the room, barely a few moments seeming to have passed before he once more heard the sound of approaching footsteps, the cane wielding woman that had been called ‘Director’ by the aqua haired woman not bothering to turn as a truly titanic figure entered the room.

Hair like midnight fell around eyes of burning silver, a sneering mask-

Silver eyes glared down at him from above a demonic mask, veins of blazing scarlet spread across the figure's face like fingers of hellsfire reaching out to caress them with a lover’s possessiveness. 

No.

No, no, no, no-

With but a pair of swift strides the woman had entered the room and moved to take her place beside the door, her eyes watching him like a ravenous beast would a cut of choice meat, bloodlust and hunger seeming to be held at bay but by the grace of some form of unseen restraint-

She leaned against the pillar behind him as he looked at the case before him, her gaze the silent promise of a guillotine blade as he fought down his sobs and terror as he tried to steady his trembling hands enough to open the case before him.

If she was here…if this beast was here then-

“Well, this is quite rare, Director Langley.” 

A voice that would haunt his nightmares till the day he died filled the room, soft and gentle, so delicate that it seemed as though a stray breeze could silence it forever, and yet that fragility did nothing to lessen the terror Elliot felt as a woman entered the room. 

Black heels clicking on the floor as a figure clad in a white dress and large coat entered the room-

His face was smashed into the stone floor with such force his vision swam, blood filling his mouth as a silent cry of pain slipped from his lips as he was made to prostrate himself before the figure sitting before him, his pain filled gaze and humiliated state reflected back at him from the mirror sheen of those shoes as the frail figure gazed at him with the weight of black holes behind her empty eyes. 

Light purple eyes met his own as rose colored lips curled into a small smile-

She watched him with a gaze more reminiscent of a statue than that of a human, no flicker of anger or joy, sorrow or fear, pleasure or pain daring to cross her features as he looked at the wedding ring she had laid on the table before him.

“Normally, you can’t stand to be in the same room as me, let alone work with me.” That ever so delicate voice spoke up once more as the woman moved to stand with this Director Langley, a small smile on her face as the other woman regarded her with an expression of such faux joviality a blind man could have seen through it.

“Don’t get used to it, Hush.” The way the Director spoke that name, Hush, it was as though it physically made her ill to even utter the first few syllables of it, let alone the whole word, something which the smaller woman seemed to pay no mind to as she patiently waited for her to continue. 

“I just want to make sure we get as much as we can out of him and your… talents alongside of our dear therapist will make sure that we get everything we need and more.” Again there came a tone of disgust and displeasure, her smile slipping into a thin scowl for but a moment before she turned her head towards the other figure that had entered the room. 

A woman holding a golden pocket watch stepped forward, her long hair flowing with every step she took, the coat she wore over one shoulder doing nothing to hide her form from his eyes, though it was not her beauty that made Elliot gaze at her, no that honor belonged to the look in her eyes as she drew nearer to him.

The anticipatory look of a predator who has cornered their meal at last. 

“Well then,” She spoke up, this new woman’s voice was the epitome of calm and elegant, and yet there was beneath that veneer of civility something else, something which made Elliot yearn to wrest control from his body and flee as the woman drew nearer to him even as the the grip on him-

‘OBEY.’

- yet firm remained.

For a moment he thought he saw one of the white clad woman’s eyes gain a marking, a white triangle amidst a spreading field of crimson, as her small smile grew ever so slightly into one that was both ever so gentle and yet ever so cruel as she looked at him.

The Director wordlessly lifted her cane up, allowing for Elliot to watch as she calmly tapped a hidden button on the top of it, allowing for a small compartment to slide open, a small black cylinder was removed from the compartment, with the woman opening it to reveal a syringe and a thin vial filled with an ochre colored fluid.

As the Director filled the syringe with the liquid, the newly arrived woman stepped forward, her long blond hair seeming caught in a spectral breeze as she ever do delicately reached into her own coat pocket to retrieve a golden pocket watch, the light glinting off of her glasses as her lips curled in vicious glee as Elliot trembled within the confines of his mind even as his body raged against his will. 

The curses and slurs fell from his lips as water until he felt the sharp sting of the syringe being stabbed into the side of his neck, emerald eyes watching with unspoken delight as his vision began to swim and blur, spectral hands reaching out to hold him fast as words once more became distorted as reality swam around him.

The final words he heard before oblivion swallowed him were-

“Shall we begin?”

Line Break

Shalom smiled as she saw the man before her, his body coated in sweat as tremors wracked his frame, his eyes bloodshot with pupils shrunken to not but a pinprick of darkness as his terror held him fast in an unyielding grip, his chest heaving as sobs and gibbering lunacies spilled forth from his lips in place of please and curses and slurs, the nonsensical babbling bringing forth no small amount of delight within the Hush. 

Idly, Shalom turned her head to inspect her compatriots, watching as Chameleon wordlessly tucked her pen back into her coat pocket alongside of her notebook, a series of notations regarding both the efficiency of their method of extracting information and an analysis of what could have been improved adorning it in the psychiatrists’ normal elegant penmanship. 

On the other side of the room was Langley, the Spider having taken a seat as she cleaned off her cane once more, wiping away small amount of blood and mucus that adorned it’s base after the man had made a rather tasteless remark concerning their Chief’s sexuality, the Spider and Rahu’s reply being something which had made Shalom exceptionally grateful for the absence of Schorl, though she wondered if the price she would be made to pay would be worth such an opportunity.

For a moment, her thoughts flickered back nearly a week ago, to when she had been leaving her room to visit her Chief as she rested in the Hospital Wing, to when she had heard the sound of footsteps approaching her, the form of her little Christina causing a small smile to cross her face as her detective walked in silence with her for several moments, Shalom feeling quite grateful for the silence as it allowed her to try and clear her mind and focus on-

  Christina began to hum, her lips did not move much as from her throat there came out notes of a delicate and gentle song, tender and full of compassion, a lullaby that would bid even the most stubborn into the sojourn of dreams…a song that Shalom had heard long ago…a song that had haunted her nightmares since she had heard it.

Her eyes had barely had a chance to widen before her Schorl fell to the ground, defenses failing in but an instant as onyx quartz cracked on impact with the ground as Christina continued to walk forward, even as Shalom stood rooted in place, the detective turning to look over her shoulder at her with a small smile before she beckoned her to follow her.

A low chuckle slipped past Christina’s lips as Shalom moved to stand beside her, the detective reaching out her hand to entangle it with Shalom's own, though the Hush reacted in a way she would never have done to her Detective, with her tearing her hand free as though the skin, a perfect mirror of her detective’s own, was a vice of scalding iron, a look of disgust crossing her face as the woman beside her paused to look at her with a hurt look on her face.

“S-Shalom? What’s wrong? D-did I do something w-wrong?” Christina said, her voice trembling with hurt as her lips curved downwards into a trembling frown, her eyes beginning to grow moist, a sight that should have made shalom feel the urge to reach out and embrace her detective, yet instead only made the feeling of visceral disgust she had felt upon her realization grow.

  “Stop. I told you not to wear her form around me.” The Hush growled out, her lips thinning as her eyes narrowed into a cutting glare at the woman who stood beside her, there was something she so rarely displayed in her words coating them, a sincere and honest emotion called forth from the very depths of her being, said emotion being a feeling of such deep seated disdain that it left her body trembling as it enveloped her, her rage only growing as the thing before her dropped it’s mask of faux hurt, lips curving upwards to release a laugh that normally would have made Shalom feel at ease, and yet now only made her feel dread.

“ Alright, alright my dear, ” The voice was wrong, it did not belong to the woman before her, low and sultry, velvet coated in saccharine sin that dripped and pooled around the young woman, each word perfectly designed to cause a haze to form in the minds of those who heard it, the unnatural allure that coated them enough to make anyone submit, though for Shalom it only made her disgust grow.

  “No more games.” In less than a blink her detective’s eyes had changed, an unnatural blue that seemed to burn with an internal light of unknown origin gazing into her own with such inscrutable intent that it left the Hush feeling the urge to take a step back and flee, though she was able to easily overcome the faint voice that bid her to run as she locked eyes with the…thing that was wearing the form of her detective.

  “Let’s talk, shall we Shalom?” Those eyes had burned her, scorched and seared and froze and tore at her very being even as they soothed and cradled and mended her, the words echoed in her head as though the thunderous shout of the Almighty itself,  something she often thought to be not far from the truth as the entity before her turned to look at her in full, a warm smile that left chills racing down Shalom’s spine gracing its face as it spoke up.

“ Let’s talk about how I can help you clean up this mess. ” Spoke the Devil to the Hush.

A sigh slipped past Shalom’s lips as she came out of her reverie, the Hush calling upon all of her experience to bury the unease she felt into the depths of her being, the dread at what the woman had done to blind the all-seeing eyes of Paradeisos swept aside in her desire to see the threat to her Chief removed, perhaps there would be a price to pay later on, but for now she would do all she could to insure that her Chief was safe, and should the price be high then she knew that Coquelic, Rahu, Christina and Langley would be able to see this mission through to the end.

  After taking a slight breath to steady herself, Shalom gently took out her tablet and began to make some amendments to her notes, sifting out old and new information automatically, even as her mind wandered to how all of this had begun, to when-

A warm hand entangled with her own, platinum eyes meeting hers as rose colored lips curved upwards into a smile that made her have to fight down the urge to pull out her camera and immortalize the scene in one of her many albums. 

Dimly she noted how she had been pulled to what she noted was some form of cafe, with the platinum eyed woman pulling out her chair and helping Shalom to sit at the table, the frailer white clad woman smiling up at her beloved Chief as she leaned down to place her lips to Shalom’s brow, the pair sharing a low chuckle as both of their eyes drifted shut, with them pausing where they were, Persephone basking in Shalom’s presence just as she did the same. 

Though all good things must one day come to an end, and in this case they came to an end with her Chief pulling away from her as she went to head into the cafe, wordlessly smiling at Shalom over her shoulder before she entered the building, the Hush taking the time to calm her own beating heart as she silently cast her gaze on a part of the crowd where she knew she felt ever so familiar eyes on her. 

Today was supposed to be her day with Persephone, but she knew it was too much to ask for her ever so loyal dog to not follow her, though she did admit it was amusing watching Rahu attempt to contend with the various men and women that were ogling her and attempting to flirt with her, Rosa, who had somehow been roped into this surveillance mission, seemed to be rapidly losing her battle with her own humor as Rahu once more whirled around to look at a trio of blushing and giggling young women.

A small smile crossed her face as Shalom shook her head for a moment at the scene before she heard her Chief call out to her, the Hush turning in her chair to see the Chief staggering towards her, seemingly battling with a pair of untied shoelaces and the inability to set down the pair of ice-cream cones she was holding, her battle with gravity seeming fit to nearly end with her triumph as she drew near to Shalom, a smile on her face-

*CRACK*

Something wet and warm splattered across Shalom’s face as she saw her Chief stagger, the frozen confectionery slipping from her hand as she swayed for but a moment before she fell to her knees and then her front, a pool of crimson beginning to-

“Shalom!”

She jolted to her senses, her eyes wide as she took a single low breath as she regained control of herself, her mask flickering back into place as though it had never faded in the first place as she tucked her tablet into her coat once more before she turned to look at the woman that had called out to her.

Rahu’s eyes raked over her face, picking apart every microscopic detail that they could as she tried to discern what it was that plagued her Mistress, with the answer seeming to come to her as she offered a low sigh of her own, barely audible behind her mask as she moved towards Shalom, the clicking of her heels on the concrete flooring being the only sound in the room, aside from the gibbering of the fool bound to the chair.

A brief sweep of the room revealing the absence of Langley and Chameleon, the Hush taking a moment to mentally berate herself for having allowed herself to lose herself in recollection, the gradual restoration of her emotions must have been taking more of a toll on her than she thought was what swept through her mind as she felt Rahu’s hands come to rest on her shoulders.

“The Spider and that Lizard have gone to get everything set up to go after the rest of this group, I told them you were busy thinking over everything and would join them in a few minutes.” Rahu said as she looked over her lady, a small smile from Shalom and a single step forward being all the prompt her ever loyal hound needed to give her a brief yet tight embrace, a much longer one could wait until later on when their current business was concluded.

“Thank you my dear, please go and let them know I’ll be joining them in a moment, I simply need to verify some information before I do so.” Shalom spoke up to her faithful guard, allowing for her hand to delicately cup her cheek for a moment before she let it fall to her side as she turned around, Rahu moving to fulfill her request as the the steady rapping of her heels gradually faded away until the door was at last shut and she was alone.

Or rather, she would have been alone were it not for the whimpering hype of flesh that sat before her, the sound of their pained cries would have made her feel something akin to pity were she not aware of the source of it, as such in the place of pity there came something approaching cruel delight in the form of a low hum that slipped past Shalom’s lips.

With a languid stride born of the desire to delight in the scene before her for but a moment longer, Shalom stood before the trembling form of Elliot, her lips finding their usual shape of an empty smile as she delicately reached out her hand and seized the trembling man by the chin, tilting his head to where he was once more forced to meet her gaze.

A part of her felt disgust at the way she felt such delight at the man’s cry of dread, knowing fully well how her Persephone would view such an action should she learn of it, but as she had done so many times before, and would do many times more, she hushed that part of her into silence.

After all, what Peresphone did not know would hurt no one’s heart.

‘What’s one more lie, to keep seeing that smile?’ Was the thought that allowed Shalom peace of mind, the knowledge that her actions, no matter how abhorrent, had brought about safety and stability for her beloved and those she called dear to her own heart, was more than enough to grant her a clear conscience as she did what she did best, what she was born to do.

Fix problems.

“To tell you the truth, I was trying to leave this part of me behind,” Shalom began as she lifted up her hand, ever so delicately cupping Elliot’s cheek in her hand, her tender grip did nothing to conceal the malice that swirled within her eyes, darkening them near to pitch as droplets of blood began to trail from where her nails pierced his flesh.

No words slipped past Elliot’s lips, merely another pained whimper that soon trailed off into a groan as Shalom’s other hand delicately reached up and wrapped itself around his throat, the Hush feeling nothing but cold satisfaction as she felt the man’s pulse thundering beneath her grip. 

“But people like you always find some way to drag this part of me back out…” She trailed off for a moment, allowing a weary sigh to slip past her lips before her mask returned to its natural position as the Mark flared into existence, the symbol reflecting in Elliot’s eyes as the man went rigid in her grip. 

Chameleon’s subliminal commands and manipulations would insure that the man before her remained unable to say a word about what had happened to him to anyone, and her own Mark would further reinforce the indoctrinations to the absolute of their control over the man, alongside of insuring that only the persona that had been crafted by Chameleon and herself would remain to see the light of day, while the true Elliot remained a prisoner in his own body.

Of course, she was not completely without some facsimile of mercy, his family would live to see a bright future, as she had promised him, though the mental scars would linger for many years but in time she was confident they would heal, and that none of them would go on to attempt the same foolishness their former patriarch had, plans already in motion to put them firmly under her gentle grip. 

Well, gentle so long as they obeyed that is. 

Likewise, she would insure that Elliot also got to live, perhaps he would even be able to see his family sometimes, and not the monsters that his other persona would claim them to be whenever it saw them, though his inability to tell them the truth of what had happened to him, along with the trauma of his actions and the revelation of his part in the attempt on Her Persephone’s life and the potential backlash they could face were it not for her mercy, would keep them from fully trusting him.

And now here she held the man, letting but one last flare of the Mark carve itself into his mind as she offered a final layer of subliminal messages and commands to insure that the man before her would never again no the beauty of a clear mind, or the warmth of the sun for that matter, ever again.

Those thoughts should have made her feel sick, to feel nauseous as she supposed was only right for someone committing so great a cruelty, yet instead it only brought her a vague sense of satisfaction at a job well done, and a sense of…well…she was not quite certain what to call the other feeling, some form of exasperation perhaps at the fact she had to do this, or perhaps it was a sense of justification?

She would have to sit down and sort out her emotions when she got the chance, perhaps she could even enlist the aid of Coquelic in this endeavor, the temptation of Flower Cakes and some new seeds for her little botanical garden should do the trick in buying her aid and silence, or perhaps she could approach that Flower that her Christina cannot help but wax poetic over.

But such matters could wait until later, as she at last allowed Elliot to slip from her grip and fall to the ground, the man curling into a ball as Shalom walked away, pausing but to offer one last glance over her shoulder at the shattered man behind her before she left him to the guards.

That the guards showed as little mercy to the man as Rahu had when she had found him, gave Shalom a sense of satisfaction, truly her Chief had chosen the most loyal of subordinates to stand at her side, the screening the Spider and her had put them through only ensuring these most loyal of souls were there to defend the one so dear to them.

Now she just had to hope they didn’t decide to introduce Elliot to any of the other Sinners before they got him to his cell, granted it would be no true loss to her if they did, but it would be quite inconvenient to have to clean up the ensuring mess and make certain that the Adjutant did not rat her out.

And speaking of the Adjutant, there she was, leaning against the wall of the hallway that lay between her and the room where her Rahu was waiting for her alongside of Chameleon and Langley, the aqua haired woman’s eyes meeting her own as she spoke up.

“I don’t know what you did to him, and for the sake of my peace of mind I’m not going to ask.” Nightingale spoke up, a sigh slipping from her lips as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a personal phone, her fingers ghosting over it for a moment before she spoke up again.

“Persephone’s vitals are improving, but she is still unconscious. Dr. Iron thinks she’ll need a few more days in that pod before she can be transferred to a normal bed, but she still can’t say when she could wake up.” Another sigh slipped past Nightingale’s lips as her fingers twitched once more, a flicker of moisture glazing her eyes before it was wiped away.

Shalom stood in silence as she processed the information, her mask slipping enough to allow for a small frown to cross her face as she kept her gaze fixed on the woman before her, allowing for the adjutant to take a moment to compose herself before she spoke.

“When was the last time you slept…Nightingale?” It was one of the very few times she allowed for herself to say the other woman’s name as opposed to her title, the other woman blinking at her in confusion for a moment before she offered another tired sign, her hand reaching up to rub at her eyes as she spoke up. 

“I…I don’t know…maybe 2 days, but I can’t say for certain.” Shalom tilted her head for a moment, a small sigh slipping past her lips before she walked towards her rival, allowing for her hand to rest itself on her shoulder, a small sense of amusement slipping into her heart as she saw Nightingale jolt slightly at her touch as she looked at her in confusion. 

“Go and get some rest,” Shalom spoke, a rare hint of compassion for the woman that had so vexed her upon her arrival at Minos and her attempts at gaining such a spot of favor with Persephone as the aqua haired woman held.

Nightingale said nothing for a moment as she looked at Shalom, before she let her head fall back against the wall, her hat wrinkling under the grip of her hand as it tightened for just a moment before it relaxed near to the point of letting it slip free as the Adjutant let her eyes drift shut for a few moments before she pushed herself off of the wall, allowing for Shalom to step back as she put her hat back on.

“I’ll be with Persephone, maybe I’ll be able to sleep if I can see that she’s alright.” The adjutant sighed as she began to walk away, a small sense of amusement flickering in her as she saw the way Shalom re-affixed her mask the moment the words slipped from her lips, a sure sign of her hiding her annoyance at the words.

“Give her my regards and tell Coquelic to get some sleep as well, some of her Flowers can fill in for her.” Shalom spoke up as she turned and began to walk away, though her steps were halted as she heard the Adjutant call out to her once more.

“Shalom.” Nightingale said, pausing as she looked over her shoulder at the woman behind her. “I know that you have some way of making sure that none of this will reach Persephone, that nothing you, Langley and Chameleon have done will reach her, hell maybe you even have a way of making the Sinners forget the things you’ve done, or at least keep quiet about them.”

Shalom said nothing, her silence being all the answer Nightingale needed before she turned her head and spoke up once more.

“You can trust Wynn, she’ll do everything she can to help keep Persephone safe, just don’t make her get her hands too dirty…she’s got too good of a heart for the kind of things you and the others have done.” Shalom nodded slightly at the words, already aware of the gentle heart the young woman possessed, something which reminded her of her Christina, and as such endeared her to the Hush in its own way.

“Shalom…Hush…” Nightingale continued, pausing for a moment as she took a deep breath before she continued-

“Give them Hell.”

The silence that enveloped the hall was all the answer she needed, the adjutant continuing her walk away as The Hush gazed over her shoulder at her, lips pulled into a thin frown as she made adjustments to her mental profile of the woman for just a moment before she resumed her own walk.

Perhaps there was hope for the Adjutant to become a truly worthy aid to the Chief afterall, but that was something she could ruminate over later on, for now she allowed for her mask to firmly fall into place and for the mindset of The Hush to overtake that of Shalom as she headed off to continue her work. 

Though, before she let that fledgling humanity, so long ago lost and so recently regained, slip away she allowed herself one last emotional thought, accompanied by a small chuckle as she opened the door to see Langley looking over her terminal as Chameleon cleaned her glasses and Rahu looked up at her. 

‘Ah, the things we do for love.’

Fin.

Author’s Note: Well, here we are everyone. We hope you enjoyed this merry mess of a chapter and that it lived up to the standard we have set for this fic. 

We apologize beforehand if it is not up to par with our previous chapters or if it has made any of you uncomfortable in reading it, admittedly this chapter took us quite a while to do as we had to try and get into the mindset of what someone like Shalom would do when angered, a task which is exceptionally difficult given not only her complex nature but also the state of her sense of humanity and morality, or rather her budding sense thereof. 

Part of us feels we failed to deliver simply by not being able to adequately reflect our own take on the dreaded Hush and how she has changed for both better and worse in the setting of this fic, that being her growing morality and humanity being mirrored by her growing attachment and fixation on Persephone and her willingness to do truly horrible things to protect her and the rest of those she loves. 

In such a verse we felt it easier to explore her anger, and the ramifications of earning it, from both the point of view of the recipient of said anger, and then end with the point of view of Shalom herself as she thinks over what she did and why she did it.

Please feel free to let us know what we did wrong and how we could improve in the comments below, as like we said this one was a tough one to write for the reasons listed above and several more, among them being this chapter taking a radically different approach than what we originally had in mind for it. 

With all of that said, stay safe and take care all.

[hunterofdeer]

The One, the Only, the Martini

Begin with the promise of sex later that night. If you don’t end up getting it on, do not fret. Just follow the rest of these steps, and the end result should be just as pleasurable.

First things first, get dressed, and dress well. Drinking a martini is an event—a spectacle even. The drink begs for sophistication; and the second that conical glass is placed in front of you by a half-smiling waitress or bartender, every eye in that establishment will be judging the hems and stitches on your shirt, slacks, skirt, etc. Make sure there is color in your outfit, and confirm your loafers have tassels, frills, or both. If no penchant for loafers, obviously opt for a stiletto—bright red and potentially rhinestoned. 

Throw on Grandma’s jewelry. It’s vintage, and her soul will rest easy knowing you look like a scandalous Upper East Side socialite. A martini is a minimalist drink, so indulge in maximalism for the balance of it all. Be ironic and beautiful, though ideally not ironically beautiful.

Now take a step back from your mirror. Missing anything? Cellphone, wallet, keys, fragrance? Have a one-on-one with yourself. Say your order, say, “I’d like a martini.” Say it again. Repeat it ten times—twenty if you’ve forgotten to take your Xanax. Listen to an improvised saxophonic ditty before you leave your residence. “Giant Steps” by John Coltrane is a classic (and saintly, believe it or not).

While I respect careful planning in choosing a venue, now is the time to let the universe, or your partner, choose for you. Yes, you are required to be accompanied by someone else. You cannot enjoy a martini in a vacuum; save the lonely nights for a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. Walk along the street and look through the windows. Unlike a moth to a flame, you’ll be most attracted to the dimly-lit watering holes. Furthermore, antique lamps, custom wallpaper, and crimson velvet are all things that make me remark aloud, “Oh, that looks nice!” 

You’re in the bar. Perhaps you’re at the bar itself, or maybe you’re in a booth. Regardless, you’re sitting down, elbows on the countertop or table, and leaning just slightly forward. Others may not know it, but you are in complete control, full of subtle wit and knowledge on 18th century women’s literature. This Thursday night is unfolding exquisitely—and it must be a Thursday, naturally.

It’s showtime. Order that goddamn martini, and prepare for the barrage of questions. “Gin or vodka?” Gin; we haven’t been taken over by the Russians yet. “What type of gin?” This one is up to you. If you’ve got money to spend, which you should, get the good stuff. Don’t ask me what that is. “Olive or lemon twist?” Never lemon! We’re not in Mexico. Have the bartender whisper vermouth into the glass. Also, it must be stirred, not shaken (sorry, 007). And ask for it unfathomably dirty. Filthy, even. Make it disgusting. Cliché, yet appropriately kitsch. Pray to god those olives are stuffed with something.

Now cheers, clink glasses, or do whatever your religion allows. Sip. You’ve earned this. If this is your first time, don’t be too hard on yourself. It can be a bitch of a drink. On New Year’s Eve, I had my first martini in one of the few serviceable boozers of my rural college town. I could hardly swallow the almost antiseptic liquor, and I imagine a few of my tears dropped into it. My partner was cool about it, drinking like a pro. The olives, thankfully, were injected with pesto.

I had officially reached adulthood with that martini; and, once under the blankets later that night, I rolled onto my side to confront the wall, thinking up a random scenario as some sort of foreplay for dreaming. I heard an “I love you,” and I nearly credited the martini, as well as the other drinks, to be speaking. But after a brief interrogation, I found out that it was my partner’s words. It was the first time I had ever been told that in a relationship. He admitted it slipped out by accident, but don’t our little falters come from love? Turning to face him, I smiled and said I’d drink to that.

[amofy]

*Tying narrative to setting

The colours should shift inside the train because moments of commuting alone are often times of reflection of the day and contrasting the colours of the outside vs in the train can make the setting feel more personal and ‘internal’ for the character and audience. The train ride itself can represent ‘knowing’ where you want to go. Hence in the latter parts of the poem, the destination of the train can descend into ambiguity OR the train can stop entirely. The train ride can also be a recurring theme, we can repeat the first train ride where the character ‘knows’ where they want to go in order to show a sense of direction and autonomy in the character (The character knowing where they want to go is effectively another way of saying that they believe in the direction and desires of their heart, and more simply there is NO internal conflict happening within them YET.) Then we could show the gradual shifts within the persona through the destination of the train? For example, (Next stop: ?????????) → conveying the uncertainty felt by the persona. Perhaps the colours of the train can shift once again to reflect this.

*Story Proposal Synopsis

The persona slowly trods down the stairs onto the train platform. Here they have medium proportions, scraggly hair and are in somewhat formal attire. The platform is empty, dimly lit and silent. The persona veers onto the right side of the platform, and peers up to the billboard. It reads: ‘Platform 1. Destination: “The Safe Way”. The stops of this train then slowly slide in and appear, much like the Sydney train billboard screens. They read ‘Security, certainty, etc….’. the typography on this billboard can be corporate and formal. they then glance over at the billboard on the other side of the platform. It reads ‘The Right Way?’ then the stops slide in: ‘security?, certainty?, ….’ the stops mirror the other billboards however all accompanied by the question mark. The persona shrugs away nonchalantly, however they can be seen having a moment here to reconsider their choice. This silence is broken as their train abruptly enters the platform. As the doors open, cold, blue light from the train shine onto the platform. Inside we see rows and rows of similar silhouettes span across the carriage, much like the lighting of the train, they are also blue and are represented with flat shapes. As they are about to enter the train, the other train on the other side of the platform arrives. The persona stops in their tracks and as the other train doors open, this time a warmer light brightens up the scene from behind them. They slowly make their way to the other side, drawn in by the allure of the warm lights. The closer they get to the other train, the personas appearance changes, going from the medium proportioned ‘corporate’ design to a ‘chibi’ childlike appearance, the hair here also changes into a more refined and non-scraggy look. Looking over at the signage of this platform again, it has changed from the time they looked in their adult form. It reads:.....

The climax of the story: the persona re-enters the blue train, slowly their features blend with the blue silhouettes and they become part of the crowd. Time to departure for both trains in now 1 minute. In a split second decision, they decide to switch trains again. However as they try to leave the blue train she is obstructed as their changed appearance as the blue rigidly shaped silhouettes prevent free movement. She slowly breaks out, parts of her body returning to her original form. Hands of the surrounding blue figures hold her down, however she just barely manages to break free. As she stumbled out, tripping and trodding to get onto the other warm train, we cut to the billboard again it reads ‘departing now’ tension is built here between the billboard, the doors slowly closing on them, and them vigorously running towards the train. The doors shut on their face, leaving them stranded on the platform as both trains depart and leaving them in the silence and dark just like the start of the film. A slither of light enters the scene. She glanced over at the ‘Way Out’ sign and the film cuts and ends. 

[chummywchimmy]

Anti-Hero

PAIRING : Yandere Yoongi x Reader

SUMMARY : As a failing idol, you had to make money somehow. That’s how Min Yoongi came into your life. The man whose name was feared in all of Seoul inserted himself into your life. Little did you know that he would change the course of it too.

“This country would know your name. Even if I have to force them to memorize it at gunpoint.”

WARNINGS : Mature language, Yandere Themes, Sexualization, Misogynistic Behavior, Unhealthy Eating Habits, Dangerous Diets, Allusions to the Mafia and Underworld, Implied and Mentioned Sexual Activity, Violence, Toxic Mindsets, Toxic Perception of Relationships, Involuntary/NonConsensual Drug Usage, Alcohol Consumption, Jealous Behavior, Possessiveness etc.

BOTH THE MAIN CHARACTERS HAVE A TOXIC AND UNHEALTHY VIEW OF ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS!

Not edited.

I do not own BTS. My intention is not to glorify toxic behavior nor do I believe BTS member would ever act like this. It’s just a figment of my imagination. Know the difference. Please.

Her eyes look dead.

She wears a short black dress, with sheer puffy sleeves. Her hair frames her face, wisps she itches to push behind her ears. She can’t do that because the makeup artist will have her head if she did, something about ‘not being paid enough to deal with brats.’ Her features are striking, shapely nose and lips.

Despite this, you can’t stop looking at her eyes.

Large eyes, unblinking look back at you from the reflection in the large mirror in front of you. You are caught in a strange trance tonight. 

The small room, lit in seedy yellow lights is buzzing with a flurry of activity. Makeup artists flit from station to station, preparing your teammates. Your manager, Lin, is shouting on his phone. The sound technician has also popped his head in to confirm any last minute changes.

Despite all this, your focus in on the girl who is staring back at you from your reflection. 

She looks tired.

Flawless makeup hides dark circles, gives a light glow to your face, highlights cheekbones that protrude a bit too much. Turning your face slightly to the right, you can’t help but notice how bony your face has become. But then again, a diet consisting of nuts and a spoon of rice per day will do that to a girl.

“It’s time!” Lin’s masculine voice reaches your ears.

Without looking back at him, you get up from the creaking chair. Legs aching due to practicing well into the night for the past week, you push forward, desperate to not catch a scolding from your manager before your performance.

A dimly lit hallway echoes with the click of heels, your teammates walking ahead of you. They chat amongst themselves, leaving you out of the conversation as has been the norm. You’re used to this cold shoulder by now.

Reaching the wings of the enormous stage, you already know what you’re going to see once you settle into your position.

Absolute darkness.

The area in the front of the stage would be dark and devoid of any light. When you had first performed here, you were surprised to see the darkness greet you as you were propelled in front the harsh beams of artificial lights to ensnare an audience that seemed to be wearing the invisibility cloak. At first you thought that the room’s only occupants were the ones who were on stage. However, you were surprised to hear a smattering of applause ring out from the chasm of darkness.

The room was just so dark that no one was visible except for the performers. In a way, you thought that this was very fitting. While performing a routine that you had done numerous times before, your bored mind liked to imagine that the audience was sucking the soul and energy of the eager performers.

Having performed here for more than an year, you had gathered that this was somewhat true. The audience consisted of the elites of the city of Seoul. The 1% of the 1%; the ones who lived in towers one could not see the top of; the ones who could afford to shell out ludicrous amounts of money to see idols like you perform like glorified strippers.

BlackRabbit was the club that opened it’s doors to you only if they deemed you important enough to serve small amounts of champagne in thin flutes that would cost you a lung.

As you prepared to go onto the harshly lit stage, you once again felt that sense of numbness spreading through you. You would take two steps in front of spectators that expected you to titillate their senses and lose your sense of self. Ever since becoming a trainee, scuffing shoes on wooden floors, avoiding meeting friends for the fear that they might tempt you to stray from your diet, you did not know who you were anymore.

And just as you were pushed onto the stage, much like being pushed into the idol life, your muscle memory kicked in. Your limbs moved and your expression changed to suit the beat of the song. Except the look in your eyes.

That never changed.

“Yuna, where’s Ha-Eun?”

“She had an appointment with some businessman. She didn’t come back with us last night.” Yuna spoke, voice muffled by the couch pillow she had dug her face into.

“Oh. When she comes back, please tell her that I’ll be back from my parents’ before the practice.” To which Yuna replied with a hum as you walked out the door of your cramped, shared dorm room.

Walking down the stairs, you put on a mask and a beanie to hide your bright hair color and took a cab to your parent’s house.

You weren’t surprised. Ha-Eun was as popular at BlackRabbit as she was with the fans of your idol group, SunFlower. Tall with long black hair and a gorgeous face, she often danced in the center of the formations and deservedly so. As the dance leader, her moves seemed to flow from one to another smoothly. Ever since your company had forced your group to ‘earn your keep’ and help gather resources for the next comeback, Ha-Eun often went on these ‘appointments’. 

The patrons could request for a date with the performer of their choosing. It did not have to be sexual in nature and ,mostly, it wasn’t. However, as Lin had tenaciously told your group over and over again, these people were rich. If they liked you enough, your next comeback would have more budget and your group wouldn’t have to struggle any longer.

You didn’t see anything wrong with it. After all, you would get to go on a date, however business-like it might be. Idol life didn’t really give you much chances of going out, much less going out on a date.

But it didn’t matter what you thought. You had only been asked on a ‘date’ once and that ended in a disaster. The guy talked about himself nonstop and ended the date within an hour. But it was well enough, you thought as Lin escorted you back, you had practice soon anyway.

“Are you sure you want to take more?” Your mother’s voice stilled your hand that was reaching for the rice cooker. Face on fire, you receded your hand and using your chopsticks, scraped off the few scattered rice left in your bowl.

Lee Joohyun was 19 when she became pregnant with you. Just a few months shy of debut, she had to put her idol dreams on the back burner. Initially crushed, now she felt on cloud nine when your face flashed across her TV screen, decked out in shiny clothes that were a size too small.

You looked across the table and noticed your mother looking at you with a look that spoke of an incoming barrage of questions. You mentally steeled yourself.

“When’s the next comeback?” Mother asked, refilling her plate with the grilled meat. Your stomach growled but the knowledge of the number of hours you would have to spend at the gym to burn it off stopped you.

You wet your lips and wondered how to answer her question. The same question had been asked numerous times by the few fans your group had but each time you could only give an apologetic smile in return. It was not in your hands. The company would decide when you would get to have your comeback.

“It’s coming along.” You whispered quietly, unable to look into her eyes.

“Well, work hard till then. Your senior group is doing so well. Are you taking advice from them?” You could only nod.

Before leaving she handed you a bag full of face packs. Something about having become ‘too tan.’

Tonight was different.

There was a buzz in the air. Servers flit from place to place and Lin ran around like a headless chicken. The floors were polished to an extent that seemed extensive, considering the fact that BlackRabbit was cleaned to a spotless degree on a regular night.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, BlackRabbit was getting ready for something special.

You sat at your usual makeup station and waited while the makeup artist got done with Mina’s eyeshadow. Mina, ever curious, inquired about the significance of this night and you couldn’t help but eavesdrop.

“Is someone special coming in tonight?” She asked.

The woman’s hand that was holding the makeup brush stuttered. She looked around, as if reassuring herself that whoever this person was wouldn’t jump out of the shadows and plunge the end of the brush into her eyes.

She leaned closer to Mina’s ear to whisper but you could clearly hear everything due to the clear proximity.

“We’re not supposed to know about the identity of the audiences but...” She gulped and her voice trembled “Min Yoongi is coming in tonight.”

Oh.

The two of them fell silent and resumed their previous positions.

Min Yoongi would be in BlackRabbit tonight.

You didn’t know how to feel about that. You had heard about him. The whole of Seoul has. He was like the phantom that made rounds in the gossip circles of the city. An urban legend, everyone seemed to know him but no one dared to speak of him out loud as if he would be magically summoned.

He had his jewel clad fingers deep in almost every business but everyone knew that it was just a front. A boy from the slums of Seoul does not just suddenly shoot up in ranks without resorting to specific methods.

A tremor went through you as you realized that you would be in the sight of the same man who controlled half of Seoul, if not Asia. But you calmed yourself with the knowledge that you wouldn’t have to look at him and just perform.

The night truly was special.

The unexpected happened.

Afraid of messing up in front of a man that could probably shoot you dead and get away with it, all your group mates performed earnestly. No one wished to catch his attention, thought. Despite having more money than all the other patrons combined, there were just some things not worth risking. 

As soon as you entered the small backstage room again, Lin rushed over to you with a smile that stretched his pudgy face to it’s limits. His sweaty palms gripped yours tightly. You had a premonition that you were about to be screwed over. His next words only served to prove you correct.

“Mr Min wants you.”

You didn’t realize it then but those words would change the course of your entire life.

BlackRabbit had a number of private booths that were on a separate floor from the main bar and dance floor. Those who could afford it would be rewarded with a hypnotic view of bodies writhing on the dance floor from above, red lights illuminating the predominantly black and gold decor of the floors.

You had only come to the private booths once, when you were requested for a date. Feeling a sense of  déjà vu coursing through your body, you moved towards the most expensive booth; one that gave the guest enough privacy to commit murder and have no one be any wiser.

A smirk pulled at your lips at the grim comparison. This was very much possible in this particular case.

Upon entering, you noticed the man sitting in the booth. 

The very first thing that you noticed about him was his straight back, as if a strong metal rod was in the place of the spine. He sat tall, looking regal in his posture and possessive of the very air around him. His posture clearly said that no matter the situation, he was the one who would control it.

A black suit jacket clung to his strong body and as you sat down, you glimpsed his chest that was clearly visible through the pearl white shirt that had the topmost two buttons open.

On his phone, he looked up slowly at you, clearly disinterested. You sat silently as he looked back at his phone without acknowledging your presence in any way. Even a nod would have sufficed, really.

You steeled yourself to start a conversation multiple times but before you could say a word, your courage deflated and you shrank back into the black cushion.

Mr Min took his sweet, sweet time in pocketing his phone and looking up at you, again with a bored look on his face. You decided that you would have to take the initiative. If he complained to Lin, you were screwed.

“Hello, sir. I’m-” Your voice was cut off by a raise of his hand.

“Not interested. Keep that pretty mouth shut. You’re not here to socialize.” His steely voice obliterated any confidence you may have dredged up.

You wondered if he was the misogynistic types, the type that’ll just want you to sit and look pretty. Well you had no problem with that, it’ll take much less effort anyway.

He ordered himself another glass of whiskey, a name you couldn’t even pronounce, rolling off his tongue smoothly. The waiter looked over at you and before you could order yourself a cola, the man across the table from you spoke up again.

“Do you think she has anything other than a kale smoothie. Run along now.” Mr Min ordered him away.

Before you could give him a piece of your mind along with ordering a shot of tequila, despite being forbidden from having alcohol while on the job, the sight of a short, pudgy man likely in his fifties stopped you short.

He lumber over to the table while Mr Min confidently stands up to greet the man. They shake hands and the newcomer looks over at you. He looks over your entire body in a way that makes you more uneasy than your stylist when she looks you over and comments on your weight. 

His beady eyes roam over your figure, stopping on your thighs and chest. You think you might have an idea of what’s going on here as he seats himself next to you, squeezing you against the wall.

His pristine suit that looks costly does nothing to flatter his figure as sweat rolls down his temples in rivulets. His eyes gleam as he looks at you and says,

“Hello, dear. How nice of you to get such a sweet thing to keep us company, Yoongi.” Mr Min , or Yoongi, nods distractedly as he motions a waiter over.

“Hope she’s to your liking, Katsugi. Now, why did you raise the tariffs?” Before you can storm off, clearly having understood Min’s intention behind this ‘date’, the two men launch into a discussion you fail to make the heads or tails of.

The rage in your chest bubbles at the man’s implications but you can only hope that the one hour passes by faster.

It is when you feel a sweaty palm sliding up your thighs that you feel yourself snapping. At first you shut your legs tight, hoping the man beside you gets the message. Katsugi responds by clenching his meaty hand around your thigh so tightly, you’ll probably have a bruise for days. 

The two men are still engaged in a discussion. For a moment, you wonder whether you should divert Min’s attention to what his business partner was trying to do to a girl half his age under the table. But that thought is discarded when you recall his behavior till now. Scum.

You can feel yourself getting sick due to the disgust that churns in your stomach.

So you begin to dry heave loudly and dramatically, quickly excusing yourself to the washroom.

The washroom is as opulent as the rest of the club and you perch against the white marble sink, creating an escape plan.

Before you could execute it, the door slams open and in walks Min fucking Yoongi, rage as clear as day on his face.

Shoes click against the floor as he gets right up in your face and cages you in with his arms.

“I did not pay that ungodly amount of money for you to fucking barf in front of my guest!” He snarls.

Anger that has been building up in your body for over an hour bubbles to the surface. You can’t help but bare your teeth at him like a wild animal, glaring at him.

“I’m not a fucking whore, asshole. Especially not for scum like you.” His eyes glitter at your words.

It is at that moment that you look at him, and by that you mean, really look at him.

Pale skin provides a canvas to hypnotizing features. Low lidded eyes stare back into your own and the shape of them combined with the feral look makes something pool in the pit of your stomach. A bespoke suit clings to his lean body that belies the strength you felt in his veiny, pale hands. He’s just a few inches taller than you but even so, he manages to look down at you in a way that makes you feel small.

He seems to take the same time to look over you too. Cat eyes roving over your still figure. His gaze that rests on your heaving chest for a second too long feels like licks of fire.

Both of you go back to staring into each other’s eyes, now standing nose to nose. His breath washes over your face, minty with a hint of expensive whiskey that warms one’s throat.

Rage is a strong emotion. A passionate emotion. Arouses the body to fight. Faced with an opponent as handsome as the man in front of you, your traitorous mind, starved for any interaction with the opposite gender that wasn’t blatant worshipping for your idol persona, converted this arousal to something darker.

Viscous lust consumed his eyes too. They were dark enough as it is but as the two of you locked gazes, the anger transformed to something....different. It sent a shiver up your spine.

“My one hour is up, so I’m leaving.” You whisper softly, afraid that moving your mouth more would close the already perilous proximity between yours and his quivering lips.

“I’ll pay for the entire night.” His voice dropped an octave lower.

“To be groped by that pervert?” You stared straight into his eyes and waited for the answer. 

You got the answer when he closed the distance between your mouths and began moving his lips on yours.

Hesitant at first, you became less stiff as his soft tongue coaxed your lips apart and immediately began stroking your tongue with his. 

The only kiss you’d ever experienced was the one you had with that rookie idol in the bathroom stall of the music show. Both inexperienced, it wasn’t the most arousing experience.

But now as you molded your lips to the infuriating man in front of you, moans spilled out of your throat at the sensation. He was neither gentle nor rough and eventually even allowed you to take the lead as you licked into his mouth.

You detached your lips from his to take a breath as he moved to your jaw, placing open-mouthed kisses, going from your jawline to your neck. 

Your fingers buried themselves in his dark black hair as you panted under his skilled mouth.

Suddenly he wrenched his form away from yours.

The message in his dark orbs was clear.

The two of you were going to his place.

The entire way to Gangnam, if he noticed your mood shifting even a little bit, his hand on your thigh would tighten. You admired his hand, large, pale and veiny during the short journey.

Despite everything, you understood that his behavior had been atrocious. However, you realized that his attention, even for a night would be appreciated by your fund starved company. After all, you had glimpsed the hasty transaction he had made when the two of you were rushing out of the club, widening your eyes at the amount. The fact that you were physically attracted to him was a bonus.

The garage of the towering building looked way more expensive than most of the apartments you had seen in your life. Cars of all colors and types stood gleaming as the two of you rushed towards the elevators that was in one corner of the expansive space.

Something cold had slithered into the space between the two of you in the time it had taken to come here. The journey had cooled your arousal somewhat but you would have to lie on the bed you had made, so to speak.

The entire elevator ride, Yoongi did not glance at you once, probably having slipped back into his indifferent act.

Reaching the highest floor, the two of you stepped out, him guiding you to the only door that was there in the gold accented hallway. The massive door was opened to reveal the largest apartment you had seen. Gleaming floors, monotone furniture and extravagant art pieces dominated the space. Though, you couldn’t pay it the attention it deserved as you got back to work.

You wasted no time in slamming him against the closed door, closing the gap between your mouths. 

Seemingly, lust was enough of an ice-breaker as the previous tension dissipated and your bodies writhed together in a primal dance till the break of dawn.

“Hey, Lin wants to talk to you.” Ha-Eun’s voice sounded from your door as you came out of the bathroom, freshly showered.

“Hm? Alright, be out in a minute.” You mumbled.

As you put your clothes on, you couldn’t help but feel sore and not the kind that one suffered from after a hard day at gym. Min Yoongi, you devil.

Lin was in his forties when you had debuted and by now, he was sure to be hitting that age where one wants to deal with something less hectic than managing a girl group that was close to disbanding. But the man was ambitious and that was both a boon and a bane.

You sighed as he rushed over to you as soon as you stepped into the cluttered living room/kitchen.

His eyes were gleaming and you were sure that last night’s transaction had led to this happy glow on his smiling face.

“Finally you did something right!” Lin gushed as you went around him to make a protein shake. You had to go to the gym.

Tuning him out, you put the ingredients into the blender and switched it on. Under the whirr of the blades you thought you heard something like “-wants to see you again.”

So, you poured the shake into a tumbler and turned to face the man.

“What did you say?” You spoke. Surely, whatever you had heard couldn’t be right.

“Where’s your head? I said, Mr Min wants to see you again.” Lin’s lips pulled into a too wide smile, his happiness uncontainable.

You gave him a shocked glance. 

Mr Min wants to see you? Again?

To be sure, last night hadn’t been bad. But to want to see you again? You couldn’t believe it. The sex itself had been wonderful but it wasn’t like he couldn’t have better. It had begun passionately but even your inexperienced self could tell that it was simply lust and nothing more. For fuck’s sake, the man hadn’t even taken his clothes off, except for lowering his pants. There had been no explosive moment that you could recall.

Or wait.

There was a moment when you had been weirded out. He had held your wrists above your head as you lay naked on his king-sized bed, long fingers digging into your skin. He had taken his hand off to adjust his pants and in that moment, something came over you. It was your first time and despite not being sentimental about it, you wanted atleast a human connection. So, in the heat of the moment, you had pulled the man looming above you close, putting your arms around his shoulders. You pulled him to your chest and it felt like an intimate hug. 

Abruptly, the moving bed stopped, Yoongi gone completely still in your arms. You couldn’t even feel his breath on your skin. In that second, you wondered if he was dead but that assumption was refuted when he raised his head up and gave you a look so vulnerable, you couldn’t help but tighten your arms around him. His hands spanned the length of your sides. Something had sparked between the two of you. But then he had gone back to thrusting, albeit faster than before. His eyes became impossibly darker and in the heat of your orgasm, you imagined that he almost looked possessed, eyes gleaming, hands never leaving your skin.

Your cheeks colored with the memories and you took your leave to organize your thoughts.

The sky high building was home to one of the finest restaurants in all of Seoul. 

The decor of the place was simple but you knew that the cost of even a single fork here would be shockingly high. Whites and silvers provided a muted tone to the place that was lit with the sunlight from the south side of the restaurant which was all floor-to-ceiling windows.

You expected to be led to one of the tables but the host led you to a spacious balcony garden that was partially hidden from the view of other tables. Lined with flowers of all kinds on three sides, a large table was pushed up against the wall.

There sat the man you had come to meet.

Lin had told you that Yoongi requested your presence for lunch that afternoon. You were pleasantly surprised. You had not expected him to want to see you again. Men of his status did not often go to bed with the same woman once. But you had a suspicion that this was just a lunch. You were glad to go. You’d get paid for entertaining him for an hour and not to mention, stray from your strict diet for once.

Yoongi sat on one of the two chairs and looked up as soon as you came into his view. His face refused to betray his thoughts and for the 2nd time in the past two days, you found yourself inadequate to be near him.

Wearing a pale blue shirt with dark pants, his watch glimmered in the sunlight when he waved the host away, leaving you two alone.

You put on your idol mask and got ready to perform, even if it was for an audience of one.

“Hello, Mr Min. It is nice to se-” You began

“Why did you leave this morning without telling me?” His words cut you off, his tone harsh. You were surprised to see that his indifferent expression from earlier had disappeared. His lips were tight and his eyes had an almost angry look in them.

“I apologize if my abrupt departure did not sit well with you. I had practice so I had to leave.” You spoke calmly.

A short, almost mocking laugh escaped his pink lips. “Practice for what? Your group hasn’t released anything in over an year.” He sneered.

“If you called me here to talk about my failing career, then I think it would be better for me to leave.” You got up to leave. This was a sensitive topic to you. It wasn’t that you were particularly attached to your idol career. But since the age of thirteen, it was all you knew. You didn’t have a proper formal educacion, heck, you hadn’t even gone to college. So the only way to survive was to sit in this boat that you knew was sinking.

As soon as you collected your purse from the table, a hand locked itself around your wrist. You looked at the man in front of you questioningly. Did he have a kink for humiliating people? Were you supposed to play along?

His tongue was rolling in his cheek. He spoke, eyes commanding,

“I paid to have lunch with you, didn’t I? Then sit down and eat.” At that moment, an old waiter came by to take your orders.

You sat down reluctantly and ordered, if only to fulfill your obligation and to prevent any further anxiety in the poor waiter who already looked scared out of his wits talking to the man in front of you.

He gave his order without looking at the menu or the shaking waiter, eyes digging into yours. 

This was going to be a long afternoon so you might as well order your favorite dish and treat yourself.

The lunch was a silent affair. Yoongi ate delicately, which surprised you. You didn’t know what you were expecting from someone who had the underbelly of Seoul in an iron grip but it surely wasn’t this. What a peculiar man.

The entire time, you wondered if you should make conversation but the earlier comment still stung you. And besides, if he didn’t want to talk, why should you even put in any effort?

At the end, he even asked you if you wanted dessert, which you declined with a shocked expression. This was quite a change from the man who thought than an idol like you wouldn’t even offer a small glass of drink at a bar.

When the table was cleared and he had paid the bill, you assumed that it was time you parted ways. Despite wanting to leave without looking back, you gave him a small smile and said goodbye.

He stood up and came closer to your form. Clad in a white sundress, the tips of your breasts brushed against his chest through the thin cotton as you breathed in, mind flooding with the memories of the last time he had been this close to you.

“About what I said earlier,” He sighed, a frustrated expression upon his pale face, “you and I both know it’s true.”

With an exasperated look, you went to turn, but he stopped you with his hand upon your waist.

“I’m not saying this to insult you. And...”He paused, his thumb drawing circles of the side of your stomach, “I can help you.”

He looked into your eyes as if waiting for an answer. You understood what he wanted.

Your company in exchange for financially supporting your career.

The choice was simple.

You lifted one side of your mouth in a crooked smile as he breathed in and pulled you closer. You could feel his entire body against yours.

You didn’t understand whether it was the shape of a gun in his pocket or the bulge in his pants that made you say yes.

After that day, everything changed.

The biggest change was the removal of BlackRabbit from your life. The first thing that Yoongi had demanded from your company was that you were not to see any other ‘investors’ anymore. You didn’t mind. On the evenings that your groupmates went to the elite club, you spent your time leisurely for once. 

Or with Yoongi.

You seemed to be spending all your free time with Yoongi these days. He would randomly ask for your company at any time and you, of course, would have to comply. The two of you spent a ton of time together going to different places like high-end restaurants, going shopping, golf clubs and so forth. He even brought you for ice-skating once it slipped out that you had never gone ice skating before. However, most of your time together was spent at his apartment. You didn’t mind it, the place was amazing after all. He’d cook dinner as you’d pick which movie to watch. Hell, he even played board games with you. 

Being a sugar baby was almost too easy.

In the past one month, he’d revealed a new side of himself to you - with his gummy smiles, unexpected gestures and unbridled attention, you almost felt like the two of you were dating.

Keyword being almost.

Atleast, you didn’t think a relationship was supposed to be like this. To put it simply, Yoongi was....possessive. Like you said, most of your time together was spent at his apartment. You’d noticed that he didn’t like you being around other people. At the very beginning, you thought it might have something to do with protecting his privacy. Surely, he wasn’t choosing the most secluded tables, eyeballing waiters that lingered too long and driving away any man that tried to interact with you due to jealousy, right? He didn’t create a ruckus in your boss’ office after getting wind of a fanmeeting being organized for that reason, right?

Surely, the reason that his bodyguards refused to even look at you wasn’t because of his possessive nature?

You couldn’t really be sure.

Maybe that was what relationships were like.

Sweat ran down your temple as you went through the dance routine for the 5th time. Your limbs ached and muscles felt sore but that wasn’t important. What was important was that the date for your comeback album was finally decided. Songs were being practiced and the choreography was in it’s last stages of preparation.

As the vibrations of the new song thrummed in your body, you focused upon the moving figure of your choreographer Daehyun as she put her hands on Ha-Eun’s waist to perfect her posture. Being the center of the choreography, her moves could be nothing less than perfect.

“5 minute break, then we’ll go again.” Walking to your duffle bag, you took out your water bottle to soothe your parched throat. You couldn’t help but hear your phone going off with the incoming text messages. Knowing that they were likely from Yoongi, you couldn’t help but check the screen. You knew he would keep spamming your phone until you replied.

Yoongi : what are you doing?

Yoongi : are you free right now?

Yoongi : i want to take you out

Yoongi : im in your agency to meet with your boss, will drop by soon.

What was he doing here? Further financing the group? Despite understanding the nature of your relationship, you sometimes couldn’t help but feel bad. Sleeping with him was definitely fun for you and so was his company or atleast when he wasn’t being a dick. He was funny in a very peculiar manner. His dry humor had grown on you. He also turned out to be way more open-minded and accepting than he had seemed on your first meeting. No, spending time with his was a pleasure, not something you required to get paid for, essentially.

Daehyun’s voice brought you back to the middle of the small studio where you began practicing again. Your mind kept slipping back to the fact that he was in the building right now. If not for muscle memory, Daehyun would have chewed you out by now.

Suddenly, the door opened and a figure clad in all black slithered in. Yoongi was wearing a black turtleneck along with a black overcoat and skinny jeans. His pale hands were clenched around a cup of coffee. Being at the back of the dance formation, you were the first to notice him entering the room.

The others all took in a sharp breath as his voice boomed,

“No wonder the company is about to bankrupt.” His harsh words served to confuse you. He had stopped making remarks like that. The four other figures stilled, turning around to face him. With shocked looks and mouths that hung open, they could only look at the man staring back at them in disgust.

“Mr Min, is there something I could help you with?” Daehyun quickly composed herself and asked in a gentle tone. Everyone around here knew that the elusive man had prevented the company’s bankruptcy.

“Yeah, you can. Put Y/N at the front.” His words were clear yet Daehyun gaped at him, wanting to refuse but unwilling to incur his wrath.

As she struggled to find words, he cocked a dark eyebrow.

“What? I said, she is the center from now. This company needs to recognize talent. Only the best should be at the front, I want returns for my money, understand?” His voice left no room for argument. 

Daehyung nodded.

You knew you ought to feel bad but as you left the room with Yoongi, him holding your duffle bag and handing you the coffee he had brought for you, you couldn’t help but let out a small smile. Shutting the door behind you, you looked back at your teammates who never deigned to talk to you unless it was for doing fanservice in front of camera. They looked at you enviously, like they wanted to take your place. 

You couldn’t help but put your arm around the man walking beside you, a small smile breaking out on his face at your spontaneous touch.

Sipping on the straw of the coffee cup, you looked out the window. The car moved smoothly on Seoul roads, tall buildings glittering in your vision.

A large palm slid itself into yours and intertwined your fingers. You looked at Yoongi and gave him a smile.

“I have a gift for our one month anniversary.” He spoke, a soft voice that was reserved only for you made itself known.

Your mouth fell open around the green straw. Anniversary? Since when were you dating? You thought that this was just an arrangement that would be beneficial for the both of you. Was this a roleplay he wanted? Everyone, no matter how intimidating or tough, wanted some human connection. You gave him a weak smile and did not correct him. You didn’t mind if he thought of your relationship this way. 

“Oh?” You spoke in a small voice.

He hummed as the car came to a halt. The driver opened Yoongi’s door who went around to open yours. Stepping out of the car, you let out a loud gasp.

You were standing in front of one of the biggest buildings in Seoul. You had learned that this was one of the many companies that Yoongi had set up to shield from taxes and well, the law. Being a mobster wasn’t exactly the most respectable profession. Still, knowing that the man standing next to you, looking at you with a love-sick look in his eyes, owned this huge building was intimidating.

But that wasn’t what shocked you.

Your eyes refused to believe themselves as they took in the sight of your face, right in the middle of the biggest billboard that stood up on the building. 

Your face, just yours, graced the gigantic billboard, smiling. Your name was written on the bottom left along with that of your group. Anyone who’d pass by this area could not miss it.

It glowed in the night, multiple lights illuminating it. You stood still as arms wrapped themselves around you, hugging you to a firm chest. His voice whispered into your ear,

“Happy anniversary, Y/N. I love you, baby.”

Eyes still glued to your face on the billboard, you whispered back,

“Love you too.”

After all, this was love, right? He made you happy. For once in your life, you felt happy. 

“This country would know your name. Even if I have to force them to memorize it at gunpoint.”

The next month was a blur.

You quickly became engrossed in the promotion activities. The radio show, entertainment show and live appearances stressed you out. Each night, you’d return to Yoongi’s arms, tired, not just physically but also emotionally. You’d dread the next time you’ll have to be scrutinized by hoards of people. 

But your mother was happy. The day she’d seen you perform on the music show as the center, she’d sent you a congratulatory text. It left a sour taste in your mouth. She didn’t ask after your health, just told you that you looked good on TV and to work harder. You deleted the message soon.

Everyone around you was pretty happy. Your group had opportunities that you’d never had before. Shows that never even considered idol groups, called you to do interviews. You had lineups at music shows, your albums sold out and the group shot up in popularity. The company was ecstatic. The CEO milked it like it was his last day on earth. Slowly, he tightened his control over the group.

Especially you.

As the center, you were getting quite a lot of attention. Meaning, fans analysed your every move and your previously relatively free lifestyle gave way to one that regulated who you even looked at.

Then one day, the boss called you to his room and dropped the bomb.

You couldn’t see Min Yoongi anymore.

‘Investor’ or not, your popularity had grown too much to go out with anyone, even in secret.

That night you went to sleep, turning off your phone, knowing you couldn’t deal with the stress of telling Yoongi right now.

He had grown attached and to be honest, so had you.

You vowed to yourself that you’d find a way to make it work and hide it from the company.

Multiple makeup artists flitted around you, preparing you for the shoot. Your eyes, puffed up from last night’s crying, took a lot of work on their part to conceal.

You still hadn’t turned your phone on, fearing Yoongi’s temper. You hoped to avoid it just till the end of today, promised yourself that you’ll talk to him at night.

But today was not your lucky day.

Commotion sounded from outside the studio as the photographer clicked away at your changing poses.

At first, you paid it no mind. Photoshoots were a busy and hectic tasks. People coming in, people going out. Nothing new. However, the sound of things falling over further strained your practiced smile as you glimpsed the loitering staff give each other confused looks.

The opaque door banged open as the shouting from outside now resounded in the spacious white room.

Yoongi stood in front of you, fuming with rage. His chest heaved rapidly, straining his leather jacket. He pushed his dark hair off his forehead and threw his black motorcycle helmet to some corner of the room where it made a loud noise in the now silent studio as it fell to the ground.

 He stood his ground for a moment as he stared at you with those dark, dark eyes. Then, his eyes landed on Lin, standing near the cameraman, mouth agape in shock.

Eyes locked onto his target, he stormed over to the shaking man, throwing away whatever was in his reach as he walked. He pushed two lights, the entire prop table and the table of water bottles to the ground. Despite the mess and loss it caused, everyone except for him stayed still, including you, hoping to avoid a similar fate as that of the inanimate objects in his path.

You stood frozen, partly due to shock of being confronted with his actual personality and some due to the reasoning that - what could you do? Go over and beg him to stop. He was clearly devastated by your separation and some insidious, twisted part of you that had forever been starved of love, was pleased by his actions. Served them well for thinking they could control you anymore.

Reaching Lin, he grabbed the poor man’s collar and punched him in the nose. Blood spurted out as the men fell and continued to get beaten. Everyone in the room was conflicted- they wanted to help him but did they really want to bring his wrath upon themselves?

“What? This company has no use of my money anymore? Think you’ll do well now?” He growled, landing his fists against the man lying half unconscious upon the floor. He looked back at the group of men standing at the door.

Immediately, a dozen men in black clothing walked into the room with wooden bats. Shouts rang out as they destroyed every single object in the room- from the cameras to the leftover overhead lights. Some even bashed them against the walls, creating large holes in the newly painted room.

Staff pushed you out of the door, even as you resisted. 

The company spent days getting the studio back to shape.

The substitute manager Jihyun seemed shrewd. He confiscated your phone and even your hidden burner phone the very same day that Lin was admitted to the hospital.

You were frustrated. Yoongi’s words rung in your ears. This wasn’t about some dating scandal. It was about the control over the company. With his investments his control over the entertainment agency was only increasing. The CEO was also getting angry with the way Yoongi kept demanding for the group to be focused on just you and promote your solo activities more. For a group that was just increasing in popularity, this couldn’t be possible. Besides, your group’s success made it so the company could stay afloat on it’s own now.

You kept thinking of ways you could contact Yoongi. Nothing seemed possible since you hadn’t been let out of your dorms ever since that incident. 

Opportunity finally came to you in the form of when you were told that you had to MC in a live music show alongside another idol. You eagerly accepted. You’d find a way to sneak out and buy a burner.

On the day of the show, you reached the shooting location and began getting ready. You looked over your script as the show’s staff served you tea for your throat. Putting the empty cup aside, you walked out of the green room in a flurry of long, red dress that shimmered.

Meeting the other MC, he turned out to be a male idol that was a few years your senior. You greeted each other and the director went over the script. After emphasizing on the need for cute fanservice, the recording began. You put on your cutesy charade, blushing and tittering whenever needed.

Halfway through the show, you felt drowsy. Your neck tickled and after resisting the urge for what seemed like forever, you gave in to the temptation to scratch it slightly. Knowing this would be broadcast live you tried to act attentive and cute but found yourself spacing out at times, head feeling increasingly like it was filled with cotton. You’d snap back in a second though, wishing not to get chewed out on the internet for being ‘rude’.

As soon as the broadcast ended, you ran to the nearest washroom, the feeling of nausea washing over your gut. Vision extremely unclear at this point, you didn’t notice the other figure in the otherwise empty washroom. 

Thinking staff would find you soon enough anyways, you gave into the temptation of falling into the void of darkness.

Your mouth felt like a sandbox as your eyes opened to a rather familiar bedroom. All too familiar.

What were you doing at Yoongi’s apartment?

The dark grey walls and black decor was all too familiar to you. The paintings in front of the bed included art pieces that cost a lung. But you knew what you’d find if you just looked behind. Above the bed hung a large black and white picture of you, the centerpiece of the room. You still remembered how you’d shown Yoongi your favorite photo of yourself out of all your photoshoots. The next time you came over, you found it hung on the expansive wall, framed by a delicate silver frame.

You pushed yourself up from the supine position, hair messy and one strap of the dress falling over your shoulder. You failed to notice the man sitting in the shadows of the room, nursing a glass of the finest whiskey as he bored holes into your frame.

You jumped as the large television in one corner of the room switched on, blaring as the middle aged lady on the screen talked about the latest news.

Your eyes finally adjusted and found the man you’d been wanting to see, sitting in the dark wood chair in the shadows near the large window.

You looked at him, taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the way his hair looked frazzled. You made a move to go to him but he raised his hand, eyes upon the TV. Strangely hurt, you pouted and directed your gaze to the screen, wondering what was so important.

Only to find your own face staring back at you.

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets as you heard the news lady talk about you - how idol life had been troubling you, how your mental condition was not the best and how your agency ever so kindly let you go as your health worsened. Your eyebrows furred. Since when had the media deemed you “mentally unstable”, in their words.

You looked at your anchor, looking at him for a response. He switched the screen off and put the glass at the nearby table.

“So....how did I get here?” You began.

He snorted. 

“That’s what you want to ask? Not why you’re not an idol anymore? Not the reaction of your fans?” 

You shrugged.

“Ha-Eun spiked your tea.” He suddenly spoke through gritting teeth, fists clenched tight on his thighs.

“Oh? And you were there to save me?” You smirked.

He whipped his head towards you, fury burning in his eyes. Standing up abruptly, he walked over to your side and bent over your form. Eyes clashed eyes as you bent your back to look at him. His hand came up to your jaw, clenching, leaving marks. You let out a moan. It had been a while since he had touched you.

“Weren’t you being a bit too friendly with that motherfucker? I could tell that he wanted to fuck you. Do you want that? Hm?” He spat out.

You shook your head, unable to speak due to the tight grip he had on your jaw.

“No? Good. Because you’re not seeing him again. As a matter of fact, you’re not seeing anyone in that dirty, filthy, rotten industry ever again. My beautiful, pure girl. Not gonna let you be dirtied by them. Never.” He rambled with a mad look in his eye that you were acquainted with.

You smiled.

In your twisted mind, he was your hero, saving you from the evil world. By loosing the choice of leaving the idol life behind, you could leave that stressful place guilt free. You’d never have to worry about another public appearance, rigorous performance or dangerous diets.

In your mind, Yoongi had saved you.

Looking back into the madness that were his eyes, you stared back, losing yourself in pools of dark brown. You kept looking straight at him without blinking as you closed the distance between your lips.

Someone loved you now.

No matter what anyone else said, this was love.

This was love.

[ynscrazylife]

I loved your blackhill daughter reader fic so much literally such an ignored ship but one of my favs :,) could I pls request another blackhill daughter fic but this time set during Civil War and with us picking one of the teams and insisting to be involved but our moms (and everyone else) trying to keep us out of it kind of idea. I just think civil war had so much opportunity for dif dynamics w characters :)))

Tipping the Scales

Summary: Y/N’s mothers and the Avengers try to stop her from entering their “Civil War”.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting!

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/rweditz

Y/N let out a long sigh as she finally shut the door behind herself, leaning her head back and peering up at the dimly lit ceiling light. She fished her phone out of her pocket, pushing away her thoughts about what she witnessed just moments ago. It was all she could do from letting sobs consume herself. She just needed to call her mother Maria and it’d all be fine.

Pressing on her contact and pushing the phone against her ear, the ringing felt like it was taking hours. In reality, Maria picked up half-way through the third ring, cutting it off.

“Y/N, is everything alright? Usually your phone is off when you’re at the tower,” the brunette said, her worry and confusion evident.

Y/N let out a breath before she forced her voice to be steady. “I’m probably not allowed to tell you this but — Ross just came in,” she began, saying the name like it was vermin (to her, it was). “He ordered that the Avengers stop functioning as a private organization. All the rules he wants to enforce — it’s horrible!”

There was silence for a moment. “I’m going to call Tony and get out of work for the day. Stark Industries isn’t far, I’ll be there soon,” she said.

They ended the phone call shortly after and Y/N took a couple deep breaths. She found her own reflection in the dusty mirror over the sink, and saw that a few tears had escaped onto her cheeks. Wiping them off, she told herself that it would all be okay, and then left the room.

Walking back into the conference room, nausea bubbled up in her stomach. In the short time she had escaped to the bathroom, everything had only gotten worse. At the very least, Ross left, but her family was in shambles. Steve and Tony’s faces were red as a tomato as they went back-and-forth. Every once in a while someone else jumped in with their own thoughts, but to Y/N, all their words were jumbled. Everyone sat around, deep frowns pulling down their faces.

She sank down into a seat next to her mother, who had her arms crossed and eyes trained on the table. Natasha only picked her head up when she realized her daughter had returned. “Did you call—?” she began to ask quietly, only to be cut off by Y/N’s knowing nod as a yes.

About ten minutes later and nothing had changed much — only that Y/N had now caught up on the argument. Maria entered the room, slightly out of breath. She sent Y/N a smile and quietly talked with Natasha about the ordeal.

Finally, Y/N couldn’t stand hearing Steve and Tony practically shout at each other anymore. Her chair flew back as she stood up, tears pricking at her eyes once more. “STOP IT!” She yelled, her voice cracking with her strength.

It sent a wave through the air, quieting Steve and Tony and making everyone look up at her. Y/N took deep breaths, not used to having everyone’s eyes on her in such a way. “This isn’t how the Avengers do things. So please, stop arguing before you tear the team apart.”

Each second of silence that followed felt like it was pounding against Y/N’s heads. Natasha took her daughter’s hand, speaking up. “Y/N, Tony is right,” she said softly, doing everything to ignore Steve and Clint’s heartbroken looks. “I do not agree with Ross, but we need to stick together and Tony’s plan is how we do that.”

A millisecond after she spoke, Wanda sat forward, cutting in. “You don’t agree with Ross but would have us sign those stupid Accords? You’d let yourself sign them?” She accused, her voice sprouting in volume. Everyone knew what those accords had in store for Natasha: they’d treat her like a global threat again, when her days before S.H.I.E.L.D. weren’t in her control.

“I’m willing to sign them, yes. It’s better than you signing them — or Thor or Bruce or anyone else here who has powers. If I sign them, if Tony signs them, maybe we can gain some trust. Maybe we can figure out how to rework the Accords and stick together throughout it,” Natasha said, laying out her plan’s blueprints.

Everyone digested this. It could work, and they all admired Natasha for willing to put herself through this. But Clint — he couldn’t let this happen. He refused to. “You can’t sign them, Nat. Only Maria and I know what you went through when S.H.I.E.LD. thought you were a threat. Please. Don’t do that to yourself . . . I’m—I’m with Cap. Can’t we stay together, like Y/N said, on Steve’s side?” He proposed—pleaded.

“If you join Rogers’ side there will be no Avengers anymore,” Tony was quick to say.

This set everyone off, declaring whose side they were on. Y/N felt helpless as she watched her family get torn apart. Natasha, Rhodey, and Vision all declared to be on Tony’s side. Wanda, Clint, and Sam chose Steve. Y/N watched her world crash right in front of her. When she caught sight of Maria, who looked just as helpless as she was, she decided to speak up.

Everyone was already making plans with each other, some still arguing. Y/N climbed on top of her chair to be seen by everyone. “Hey, at least wait for me to pick a side,” she bellowed.

Once again, everyone stopped to look at her. “No,” Natasha immediately said, firmly.

Right after, Maria spoke: “You can’t get yourself involved in this. It’s too dangerous.”

Y/N frowned, frustration taking over that nausea. “So you expect me to step aside while you all, in your own ways, destroy the Avengers? If I can’t stop you, I might as well join you,” she said decidedly, looking at Steve when she did so.

The Captain looked caught off-guard, clearly having expected her to side with her mother. He cleared his throat. “No, no. You can’t. If you do, you’ll tip the scales. We already have an even, fair number,” he mustered out.

It was a lame excuse and everyone saw right through it. This wasn’t about tipping the scales. This was about him wanting to keep her safe.

Soon after, everyone jumped onto that “tipping the scales” excuse. They insisted that it would simply be unfair to the other team if Y/N had joined either side. As if they were making teams to play Monopoly rather than settle a dispute!

Y/N huffed as their words all floated together, biting back a bitter chuckle when she realized the irony of this. How come they could all agree on preventing the youngest, honorary Avenger from getting involved, but couldn’t settle the Accords? Hm. Perhaps—perhaps she could use that to her advantage. There was no stopping them now, but maybe she could do something.

“I’m gonna take a walk. Maybe I’ll stay with Uncle Nic—Fury for a bit,” she said, loud enough so her mothers could hear. With that, she left the room. The words they would say, Y/N didn’t hear, for she blocked it all out.

. . . . .

Over the next couple days, Y/N had formed a loose plan. She didn’t know exactly how she was going to pull it off, or when, or where, but she knew her end goal. She knew the message that she wanted to send.

When she saw the Avengers fight at the airport being broadcast on national television, Y/N’s plan was solidified. When she saw Clint and Natasha fighting, and noticed how they didn’t use their full force on each other, it gave her even a little bit of hope. Y/N bid Fury goodbye and thanked him for letting her stay before she ventured the tower to grab her suit.

Approaching the sight of the fight, Y/N managed to land in the middle of it. No one noticed her at first, but they did when she held her arms out and yelled, “HEY! STOP!”

Everyone froze when they saw her. Even the people who didn’t know her — Peter, Scott, Bucky, and T’Challa — stood still. Y/N wore the suit Tony and Bruce made her, with little hints to her mothers being clear. The Black Widow and S.H.I.E.L.D. logos, for starters. She wore a mask, too, but took it off to face her family.

“Y/N, go home, to Maria!” Natasha said, but Y/N just shook her head and addressed everyone.

“Fighting won’t get us anywhere. Someone will win and lose and no matter who does, the winner will feel guilty afterwards and the loser will be hurt. I know this is about the Sokovia Accords, but push that aside for a second. Think about the impact this will have on the team and on the world. You came together for me once before, can you please do it again?” She said. She had written a speech pages long just the other day, and while some of it still stuck, most of this was off the top of her head.

Y/N watched as she slowly made an effect on her teammates. Steve lowered his shield, Wanda landed on the ground, Natasha dusted herself off, and Tony depowered his blasters.

“The teenager is right,” T’Challa’s voice rang out. “This is not the way to solve things.”

A smile grew on Y/N’s face as inexplicable relief flooded her system. She had told herself that this would work because it had to, but seeing it now unravel squashed a small fear inside her.

Her relief was short-lived, though, because the next second she felt an immense pain — like she was being stung by ginormous bees — hit her in the back. Her muscles tensed and her knees hit the ground. Her face probably would have, too, if not for the muscular hands that grabbed her arms and pulled her back. At first, she thought that one of the Avengers had come to help her. Then, when she saw Ross and a couple of his agents walking forward, she realized that it was someone else altogether.

“Sorry about that. It’s a new invention created to stop someone non-lethally,” Ross said, in a tone suggested he wasn’t apologetic at all. He waved around a weapon loosely. It was only then that her mind began to wrap itself around what had happened, and she realized that the Avengers had been yelling out moments ago. As the pain started to subside, it dawned on Y/N that the agent holding her was the only thing that kept her from hitting the pavement again.

“What the hell? What was that?” Steve yelled.

Y/N looked up to see that they were all in their regular hero stance. This time, at least, the vibrainium shield and webs weren’t directed at each other but at a common enemy.

“We had the element of surprise and we took it. Anyone who did not sign the Accords will now be arrested,” Ross announced. His agents began heading straight for Steve’s team and Y/N felt cool, metal cuffs slide onto her wrists. She tried to struggle at first, but realized that it would be in vain, as he tightly held her in place.

“You’re not going to be arresting anyone,” Tony declared, stepping forward. The agents paused in their tracks. Y/N found it in herself to smile. Her plan truly had worked. She pulled it off.

“C’mon, Stark, are you really gonna listen to the words of a teenager?” Ross tried to persuade.

Tony straightened his posture. “Yes,” he said, and then gestured to the numerous cameras that faced them. “Millions of people saw that you did. You should null the Accords and agree to find middle ground before you regret it.”

Ross whipped around, his eyes widening when he saw just how many cameras there were. Frowning, he put his thoughts together. After nearly a minute, he met Tony’s gaze again. “You win for now, Iron Man. Release the girl and go,” he ordered, turning around and walking away.

The weight of the cuffs disappeared and the man behind her pushed Y/N forward, sending her beelining for the ground. Instinctively, she rolled to lessen the impact, but still groaned.

Within seconds, the Avengers all crowded around her, her mother at the front and center. “Are you okay?” She asked, looking Y/N over for any visible injuries that she might’ve sustained.

With a slight grimace, Y/N nodded, instinctively leaning back. She didn’t know who she exactly she was leaning back against until she felt Clint wrap an arm around her shoulders. “I—I think so. It was more of a shock, I assume,” she said.

Before their conversation could continue, Steve piped up from where he had been looming over the group. “I hate to do this — Buck and I, we’ve gotta stop those brainwashed agents,” he said.

“Go,” Natasha urged, tearing her eyes away from her daughter to spare him a momentary glance. “We’ve got her.”

Steve sent her an appreciative smile and then nodded towards Y/N. “You did good, kid.”

Bucky then popped in from his stance next to his best friend. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, also wearing a smile.

Y/N grinned back, despite that dulling — yet lingering — pain that withstood. “Likewise.”

The two men ducked away, and then Natasha grabbed Y/N’s hands. “We can all tell you how proud we are at home, hon,” she said, grinning. “Let’s just get you there first and call Fury.”

With that, the group stood up. Natasha and Clint helped Y/N up, with Clint wrapping an arm around his goddaughter to steady her. They all headed towards the direction that the Quinjet was in, with Tony leading them. On the way, Natasha called Maria, explaining it all to her.

Y/N did her best to mask her pain, wanting to prevent them from worrying about her. It truly was not too bad now, but her balance was still coming back and her muscles were sore.

When they got on the Quinjet and Natasha finished her phone call, she took on the duties of making sure that Y/N was alright medically. She had learned a thing or two from Bruce, and from training at S.H.I.E.L.D., so she was fairly decent at dealing with injuries. Clint gave her a hand with the bandages and Peter took the opportunity to introduce himself to Y/N, who just so happened to be around his age.

Before she knew it, they had landed at the tower and Maria was rushing towards her, wrapping her arms around her with tears in her eyes. Her grip was tight, as to be expected.

“Mom, I’m okay,” Y/N tried to tell her through a chuckle. She knew her words wouldn’t mean much, but she had to make an attempt at least.

Maria drew back and brushed some of Y/N’s hair out of her face. “I know, I know. When I saw the two of you on T.V,” she said, glancing at her wife with a grin. “I got so scared.” Then, she turned to Clint. “You fight my wife again and I kick your ass, got it?”

The team chuckled, which included Clint. He nodded, smiling. “Crystal clear.”

Natasha stepped forward, joining her family. She slung an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “The important thing is that Y/N saved the day. The Avengers may save the world, but she saved the Avengers,” she said, and then leaned forward to kiss Maria while Y/N giggled.

Fury, from his spot on the couch, faked a cough and said, “Corny.” 

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[apocalypticgargoyle]

okay but imagine edgy!karl but with the spice of closer by nine inch nails just a thought

EVERYONE: WE'RE TAKING THE SONG AT FACE VALUE CHILLAX

edit by 🍭 anon. step on me.

𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞: "... 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐋..." | 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐲!𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥

link for Closer by NIN

warnings: smut (18+), thigh riding, vulgar language, temperature play, degradation, domination/submission, phone sex, mentions of alcohol and drinking, frat boys, smoking (inc. weed)

enjoy these vignettes of straight-up filth

other requests:

sorry no thoughts just edgy karl in a band. in all seriousness though i would kill for a band au with anyone

edgy!karl and like temp play? his tongue piercing got extra cold from the ice in his drink or something and then kisses the readers neck or something and the reader shivers and then he gets ~ideas~

sitting on edgy!karls leg in front of the whole frat, just a normal get together until karl starts bouncing his leg

In honor of me losing my voice for 3 days now, can we have Edgy!Karl reacting to you losing your voice because of him? I've said my piece -🍭

Ahhhhh okay so I had this dream where it was edgy Karl but the reader was riding him while he had his arms crossed behind his head and he was smoking a cigarette and just AHHHH. Can you extend on this pwease? :3 -🐙

mk hear me out, edgy karl. Phone sex ?

do you think that for your edgy! Karl fic we could get some more sub! Karl like he gets so drunk and all he wants to do is please the reader - 🥪

intoxicated seggs with karl (obviously not blackout drunk, fully consensual etc)

You weren’t sure how you ended up where you were, or even how Karl ended up where he was, on stage with a guitar slung over his shoulder as if it were made for him. He had gotten a call earlier in the night from a friend of his whose guitarist came down with the flu, and Karl was the only one he knew who could take over on such short notice.

You weren’t even aware he could play, let alone how good he would look in a torn-up t-shirt, lip ring caught between his teeth as he mindlessly strummed along to the music, sweat pooling at his temples from the lights and the exertion. His eyes always darted to you, looking for your flushed appearance as floods of dark themes flooded into your consciousness.

Girls were practically throwing themselves at him, yet with you in the crowd, his lust-blown pupils marked you as his target. As the set drew on, Karl sipped from a beer like the rest of the band, a cigarette dangling from his lips as clouds of smoke mixed into the air of fog. Finally, a cover song came on, one that you knew well. Its heavy beat served as the background music as memories flooded into your mind from when the song had played for the two in the past...

YOU LET ME VIOLATE YOU / YOU LET ME DESECRATE YOU ... YOU LET ME COMPLICATE YOU

You poured yourself a drink as Karl stood beside you, popping an ice cube in his mouth. It was your roommate’s birthday; nothing but a small gathering with a handful of your friends and some music. “Are you iron deficient, Karl?” You queried sarcastically, a nod to his ice chewing habits and a strange visit from your family members.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I already told your grandmother that I’m fine,” he grumbled, teeth crunching down on the cube as if to demolish the story, making you giggle. He moved to step around you, arm wrapping around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your neck, his tongue ring grazing against your skin. You bit back a moan, body shivering at the feeling and he chuckled against your shoulder. “You like that, baby?” He mocked; voice husky at his realization that such a little action could get you excited so easily.

Later that night, Karl traced a path down your body with an ice cube between his pearly white teeth, grey irises watching your every reaction as he stopped at the hemline of your underpants. He traced a line down the lacy garment as you arched your back before pushing himself up on his arms and pushing the cube into your mouth. “Hold that for me, pet,” he stated, breath hot against your cold, wet skin, begging to be touched. His tongue dragged across your collarbones, the cool of the metal in his mouth making you moan around the ice in your mouth, grinding your hips against his.

As his cold mouth pressed against your inner thighs, you bit down on the cube, shattering it in your mouth as Karl chuckled. “We’re gonna have a fun night,” he promised, cold teeth nipping at your flesh to make you whimper.

I’VE GOT NO SOUL TO SELL … HELP ME GET AWAY FROM MYSELF

The club bathroom was dingy and dimly lit, but the cleanliness was the last thing on your mind as your fingers curled around the skin, Karl’s hand wrapped around your throat as he thrust into you roughly. Your makeup was running down your face from his spit and your sweat. The bass of the music was loud enough that it echoed around in the bathroom, setting Karl’s rhythm to his animalistic paces.

You smiled lazily, bliss covering your fucked out expression as he smirked at you in the reflection of the mirror with pride to see you in such a mess at his antics. His blunt nails dug into your hip, slamming your body against him as he used you like some kind of toy. His hand controlled your breathing, making you gasp for air as you rolled your hips against him, calling out his name loud enough to ricochet around the room.

The next morning, you went to answer Karl’s question about what you wanted for breakfast when your voice came out in barely a whisper. You shut your eyes in embarrassment with a hand closing over your mouth as his eyebrows raised at you. “What was that, baby? Let me hear you,” he mocked, walking over to press his thumb against your throat.

You shook your head, refusing to let him gloat about you losing your voice moaning his name the night before. He kissed you roughly, tongue pressing into your mouth to lap at your weak moans. His teeth dragged across your lips. “I said, I wanna hear you. I wanna be reminded how you lost your voice,” he stated darkly, a smug expression plastered across his face.

I WANNA FUCK YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL / I WANNA FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE

With the party thundering into the night, you swiveled through the crowd of people grinding on each other, plastic cup in your hand as you returned to where Karl and a few of the other frat brothers were sitting. He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as you handed him the drink and picked your cards back up.

You’d been playing strip poker with the other guys, who were mainly drunk out of their mind and half-naked anyway. It also helped that Karl would whisper in your ear to guide you into burning and showing the right cards. He once told you about the group of men that taught him how to play during a trip to his father’s favorite country club.

His legs spread a bit more beneath you, shifting you in his lap to sit on his leg. Shamefully, your breath hitched in your chest, a blush spreading to your cheeks as your nails dug into his arm as if to tell you to stop. He tensed slightly before realizing that the only reason you reacted was because the friction was almost a tension reliever for you. You were already riding on your winning streak, but the last thing you could handle was the feeling of his thigh between your legs and in front of all the men drugged out on smoke and hard liquor.

Karl’s lips pressed to the back of your ear, his hand moving to switch a few of your cards around while the other gripped your waist. As you won the next hand, Todd dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it behind him, rolling his eyes playfully before dropping backward and mumbling about taking a nap before he was dealt in again.

You giggled at him, only for Karl to move his thigh, dragging you against him. You peered over your shoulder slightly, glaring at him as if to tell him to cut it out, but he just smirked at you, holding your hips as he bounced his leg. His lips pressed against your shoulder. “Either you get yourself off or I get you off,” he taunted, the friction making you moan quietly.

MY WHOLE EXISTENCE IS FLAWED / YOU GET ME CLOSER TO GOD

Karl turned the radio up, tucking his hands behind his head as you dug into his jacket pocket for his lighter. You had him between your thighs, his fingers dragging up your skirt as you took the joint from behind his ear and brought it to your lips, lighting it and inhaling. Something flashing behind Karl’s eyes as you cracked his window. He grabbed your face before you could exhale, making you shotgun the smoke into his mouth. You moaned at the feeling of the drug seeping into your mind as well as Karl feeding off of your high.

He exhaled before pulling you in for a hungry kiss, moaning against your lips and digging his fingers into your thighs. You pulled away from him, pushing him back against the seat and handing him the joint before unzipping his pants. You dug your teeth into his bottom lip as you sank down on his hardened arousal, moaning at the tightening feeling. He groaned, his hand groping your ass to urge you to ride him.

He pulled away from your kiss, resting the joint between his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head. Your hands pushed into his jacket, sliding beneath his shirt as you rolled your hips against his. You pulled your fingers into your hair, tugging at the strands as one of his hands moved to brush below the hem of your shirt, moving to press his fingers into your back.

He watched you intently, teeth biting into his lower lip to keep himself quiet as you moaned. Euphoria spread across his face to mix with the cloud of smoke from the weed. You kissed him again, his tongue ring pressing into your mouth with a groan as you rode him harder, clawing at the friction and moaning at the feeling of his hands on your body.

YOU CAN HAVE MY ABSENCE OF FAITH / YOU CAN HAVE MY EVERYTHING

“What are you wearing?” Karl asked, voice low and tired from the day of traveling; static from the interference on the phone line giving his tone the feeling of an old recorded message. He’d left earlier in the week, leaving after spending the weekend with you to get back home for his brother’s birthday. He’d nearly kidnapped you from your studies to go with him, but with the impending exams, there was no way you could get away.

You plugged in your headphones, moving to lay on your back as you realized what he was up to. “I’m wearing socks,” you stated sarcastically, making him laugh on the other end of the call. You knew he’d be scrubbed of his alternative appearance while in his mother's house. Your mind wandered to how weird it felt to kiss him without his piercings.

He hummed. “Only socks?” He chippered, playful lust dripping from his words as he spoke. You pressed your fingers against your bottom lip, trying your hardest to remember what it felt like with his teeth biting into your skin.

“I’m wearing your shirt, too,” you added; moving your fingers to toy with the hem of the dark t-shirt. You hadn’t even thought twice when you slipped it on earlier. Only now did you realize how nearly pathetic it was after he’d been trapped in your bed hours prior.

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, yeah? You miss me at all?” He chided, making you chew the inside of your cheek. “Come on, tell me how much you miss me, baby.”

You were silent for a moment, his raspy voice sending heat throughout your body. You tried to picture him buried in your hair as he spoke to you, his fingers brushing beneath your clothing in the dark. “I miss you,” you hummed. “It’s cold here alone.” You chewed your lip, you were never good at dirty talk. You could hear your roommate and her group of friends downstairs giggling as they turned on some music, the lyrics drifting through the air vents.

Karl tsked. “I think that’s a lie. I know it’s warm between your legs, dove,” he answered coolly, making your cheeks flush. “Fuck, I want you,” he groaned, your eyes fluttering at his low tone as goosebumps spread across your body.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, your fingers itching to dip beneath the waistband of your underwear.

You could tell he was biting back a smug groan at your quiet plea. “You want me to walk you through touching yourself?” He almost growled. “I wanna hear you cum for me.”

I DRINK THE HONEY / INSIDE YOUR HIVE / YOU ARE THE REASON / I STAY ALIVE

The two of you stumbled into Karl’s room, the sound of music from the party drowning out slightly as he kicked the door shut, pressing his lips against yours as you tugged off his clothes. The back of your legs hit his bed frame, the pair of you tangling together before you rolled on top of him. He pulled your shirt over your head, hands settling on your hips to urge you to grind against him.

The taste of the liquor on his lips sent your head reeling as his cologne and the smell of cigarettes clouded your already muddled senses. Your fingers raked down his tattooed chest, making him groan, his eyes looking up at you submissively.

Whenever Karl was drunk, he always bent to your whim. His dominant mind seemed to flip a switch and all he wanted was to make you feel good. He wanted to be used by you like he always used you.

Heat flushed to your cheeks from the alcohol; you’d beaten Todd in beer pong, again, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have to down a few shots to level the playing field. Your mouth pressed to his again, tugging his pants down his legs before sinking down on him as he moaned deeply.

As you rode him, he moved your hand from off his neck, taking your thumb into his mouth; the metal of his tongue ring swirling against your thumb as his teeth grazed your skin. You moaned at the sight, moving your hand to settle in his hair, tugging his head to the side as your teeth dug into his neck, marking him with your mouth.

He pulled your hips against his, driving himself into you deeper as he thrust against you, making you groan against his skin. You kissed him, driving your tongue into his mouth as you savored his moans of arousal at the feeling of you.

You moved to sit up again, letting the music set your pace as Karl titled his head back in pleasure, teeth tugging his lip ring into his mouth. You clenched around him, just because you knew you could draw him over the edge before you, but his eyes flickered with a willingness to hold out that licked at the fire of determination building your tension.

He sent you a lazy smirk before reaching a thumb between your thighs from where his hands were gripping onto your hips; toying at your nerves and making your vision blur with how good he was making you feel. “You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, hips rolling against yours. You pressed your mouth to his again, basking in the taste of his words and the liquor that had melted against his tongue; ready the man between your legs to completely ruin you.

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Chances Are Masterlist

[hajimine]

BETWEEN THE NOTES — SEMI EITA x GN!READER

synopsis: for as long as you can remember, you and Semi Eita have always hated each other—but a couple of tender glances and one too many bottles of beer later, you find out that maybe you were looking at it the wrong way this whole time.

genre: fluff, (kinda) enemies to lovers, musician!au, mutual pining but they’re both idiots, jealousy, etc.

warnings: alcohol + intoxication (nothing bad happens), slight suggestive themes, vulgar language, kinda fast paced?

wc: ~2.5k

to: @archivednikes happy birthday shawdy <3

special thanks to: @rintaroll for beta-ing & telling me a lil bit about how bands work and stuff bc idk shit lol :,)

“Semi, get your ass moving,” you huff. “You’re gonna make me late.”

He gives you a smug look and raises a slitted eyebrow. “Did something crawl up your ass and died? What’s up with you?”

You exhale heavily through your nose and stare at him, unimpressed.

“We gotta catch the afternoon train if you wanna reach the venue in time for our gig. This is a really good opportunity for me, don’t you dare mess it up.” you say, gathering the last of your things for the trip.

There is a tingling sensation crawling down your spine, as if someone is staring at you. You look over your shoulder curiously, opening your mouth to utter another snarky remark to get your partner to stop gawking around and get ready.

But the intensity behind his gaze caught you by surprise.

Those hazel eyes of his—ones that are usually sharp and cold—held a sort of softness in them as he looks at you. When you caught him staring, his gaze did not falter one bit.

You couldn’t stop your eyes from traveling down the perfect slope of his nose, continuing down to his pouty lips.

As much as you hate him, you can’t deny that Semi Eita is an attractive man. Heck, even the word attractive isn’t enough to express how infuriatingly hot he is.

Your gaze stays on his lips for a second too long. Have they always looked this soft and inviting?

The dry cough from the opposite side of the room is the only thing that managed to break you out of this trance. Semi Eita’s trance.

Your manager stands by the door, tapping her foot on the wooden tiles impatiently.

“Now, lovebirds,” she narrows her eyes, “Save the PDA for tonight, yeah? We’ve got a schedule to follow.”

You roll your eyes at her, cheeks uncomfortably warm. And just like that, the strange yet tender moment you shared with Semi dissipated into thin air.

。。。

You don’t know if you should take pity on the gray-haired singer or if you should laugh at him.

Currently, Semi’s head is bowed down in shame as he gets an earful from his manager in the middle of a crowded train.

You see, the four of you should’ve arrived at the venue by now. Both your managers are very strict about schedules, and they planned to arrive at the bar two hours before the agreed time.

Thankfully, his bandmates have been a little more punctual than him and have successfully boarded the 4pm train. But Mr. Popular right here just had to stop every few minutes to take pictures with every single fan he met on the way to the station.

“It’s half past five now,” his manager whisper-shouts, “Do you know what that means?”

Semi tries to give her an awkward smile to calm her down. It doesn’t work.

“It’s rush hour! What if we won’t reach the bar in time? It could ruin both your careers, do you know that?” she glares at Semi once again, but there is less bite in her voice now.

“I’m sorry,” Semi starts, plastering a charming smile on his face, “I only wanted to be nice to the fans. Wouldn’t make too good of an impression if I just ignored them, no?”

His manager sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, exasperated. She motions for Semi to stop talking with a wave of her hand.

The singer grins, and out of the corner of your eyes, you can sense his sharp gaze on you once more.

You try to ignore it.

。。。

When your group reaches the bar, Semi’s bandmates are almost done preparing themselves for the gig.

The bar is dimly lit and cool, the multitudes of warm overhead lighting being the only source of light in the room. It’s not too busy tonight, you observe. Some people still donned their work clothes, perhaps rushing over to the bar right after a long day at work—mingling around with friends to let loose for a little and enjoy themselves.

“Dude, where were you?” Aito asks, eyebrows turned downwards in a frown.

Semi pats the guitarist on the side of his head, “Relax, we’ve got plenty of time to prepare.”

Aito rolls his eyes, completely used to his bandmate’s antics.

“Whatever,” he huffs. “By the way, are we gonna have a little after party later?”

“Uh,” Semi’s eyes flicker towards you for one second, then back to Aito, “I dunno man, might be too tired to get wasted tonight.”

The guitarist narrows his eyes. He didn’t miss the way Semi’s gaze lingered on you.

“Y/N,” Aito smirks. “You coming to the after party?”

You were listening to their conversation this whole time, finding the whole exchange quite amusing.

“Eh, I don’t see why not,” you smile sweetly, “It’s gonna be even better now that this dude isn’t coming anyways.” You pointed your thumb at the vocalist.

From where he’s standing, you hear Semi scoff.

“Y’know what?” he sneers, “On second thought, I am going. How does that make you feel, huh?”

You shrug, feigning indifference.

“I literally do not care.”

“Piss off.”

Aito throws his head back in laughter, shaking his head as he walks away from the scene, muttering about people being too clueless and dense for their own damn good.

You adjusted your equipment bag on your shoulder, exhaling loudly to try and calm your heart down.

。。。

It is in moments like these that you remember why you decided to go forth with this career path, no matter how rocky it may be.

Adrenaline courses through your veins as you sing the lyrics of you and Semi’s song; every ounce of the jittery nerves you had just a few moments ago long gone.

There’s nobody else in this world that can ever take your place

Some of the customers are listening intently, others just nodding along to the song, and the rest not even listening at all.

You could hear your heartbeat thumping loudly against your chest, the sweat trickling down your forehead and into your eyes making it harder for you to see the crowd.

And when the day’s all done and dusted, all I ever need is to be in your arms again

You whip your head towards Semi, just like the countless times you rehearsed this song together.

“It shows chemistry,” your manager had said, “play it up for the crowd, will ya?”

The butterflies in your stomach flutters about restlessly when you notice that Semi has been looking at you this whole time.

His eyes—sharp and intense—held your gaze, unabashed. Steady. Sure.

Will you stay tonight? ‘Cause baby you’re all that I need, and you’re all that I want.

And in that moment, with your eyes locked on each other, the world seems to stop.

Nothing else matters, Semi’s lopsided smile says, only you.

。。。

The performance flew by in the blink of an eye, and it’s a little past midnight now. As promised, your managers held a little after party in the shared lounge of your penthouse suite.

It’s not as fancy as it sounds, you smile to yourself. There are suspicious stains on the gray carpet, and the furniture smells vaguely of cigarette smoke and sweat.

Bottles of beers have already littered the floor and glass table, and you haven’t even started drinking.

“Duuuude,” Yuuto slurs, “Why are ya so tense for?”

The bassist points at you and Semi, eyelids drooping as he tries his best to keep them open.

“C’mon guys,” Aito clasps his shoulders and massages them roughly, “Relax a little, we did amazing tonight.”

Semi shrugs his friend’s hands away, annoyed. He snatches an unopened bottle of beer from the cooler and opens the cap with his teeth.

You gulp. He hands you the bottle wordlessly before grabbing another one for himself, chugging it down quickly. You mirror his actions, hoping that the alcohol can dull the annoying fluttering in your stomach that refuses to leave ever since the two of you shared that intimate moment on stage.

For fuck’s sake, what’s going on with me?

Your trick works, in a way. Your stomach feels pleasantly warm now, and your breathing has finally evened out. Another unopened bottle of beer lays invitingly on the couch and you reach for it, opting for a bottle opener instead of doing it like Semi.

“Bro,” Yuuto grins at the singer, drool threatening to leave the corner of his mouth, “Did’ya see that blonde chick in the front row? She was hardcore eye-fucking you dude.”

“Ah,” Semi takes another swig of his beer, a cute flush blossoming in his cheeks.

Wait, what. Cute?

“She gave me her number when we were gathering up our stuff.” He runs his hand through his hair.

“You gonna hit her up or what?” Aito teases, smirking.

The singer shrugs, “Maybe, I dunno.”

Your breath hitches, and Aito’s smirk widens. You raise your eyebrows at him, silently telling him to fuck off.

“Where’s Kai?” you hear Semi ask. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen the drummer since after the show was over.

“Oh,” the guitarist laughs, “Fucker left us for some girl he saw in the bar. Might see him tomorrow morning, might not. Who knows?”

The vocalist hums and walks over to where you’re sitting, plopping down on the old couch.

“The managers?” Semi casually drapes his arm on the back of the sofa. You feel yourself tensing as your heart races uncontrollably, and the singer looks over at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

Aito scratches the back of his neck, quickly losing interest in the conversation.

“They decided to sleep in early. Long day, I guess.”

Semi nods and rests his head on the top of the couch, exposing his defined jawline. His eyelashes look so pretty from this angle, they’re long and fluttery and they almost…

Huh?

“Eita, are you gonna hit that blonde girl up or nah?” Aito provokes, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You clench your teeth and reach for yet another bottle—your fourth one this past hour. Or fifth. You don’t bother counting. Semi looks over at you again, but this time his eyes holds a sort of concern in them. You scoff to yourself.

“Uh,” the singer looks at his friend weirdly, “Why are you so insistent on this? I did say maybe didn’t I?”

Aito laughs. You almost recoil in disgust.

“Oh nothing,” he chuckles, “It’s just that she’s really hot and she’s your type so—”

You stand up abruptly, knocking over some empty beer bottles by accident. The regret is immediate. You can feel the acid in your stomach traveling up your esophagus, tickling the back of your throat.

Semi quickly stands up when you clasp a hand over your mouth, trying your best to hold it together.

“Shit,” he mutters, “You okay?”

He rubs tiny circles on the small of your back, an action that’s supposed to be soothing but instead causes tingles to run up and down your spine. You shiver.

Another wave of nausea hits before you could respond, causing your knees to almost give out under you.

“Whoa there, angel,” Semi wraps his arm around your waist, holding you flush to his side to support your weight.

You groan softly as your head spins uncomfortably. Droplets of cold sweat is starting to form on your forehead, adding another layer of discomfort upon you.

“You wanna go to your bedroom?” Semi murmurs close to your ear. You shiver again. At this, Semi thought that you’re freezing so he drapes his leather jacket on your shoulders, holding you close.

You nod weakly as you try to blink the black spots in your vision away.

From somewhere around the room, you hear Aito snicker, “Stay safe!”

You turn your head around to give him a deathly glare, but all you see is a big blob of blurriness.

Dammit.

。。。

Semi takes the key card from your bag and pushes the door open, placing your duffel bag on the floor after

He guides you to the bathroom—with gentleness you rarely see from him—and sets the toilet cover down so you can sit on it while he wets a towel with the running tap water.

“You still feel dizzy?” he asks, voice soft.

You stare at his fingers as he wrings the towel and shakes your head.

Semi holds out the cloth and pats your forehead with it, the coolness allowing you to feel a little more refreshed.

“Do you want me to make you some tea?” he wipes the back of your neck carefully.

Shit. Has he always been this thoughtful?

You shake your head again, telling him that you just want to go to sleep.

He sighs and gives you a half-smile, holding out his arm to help you to the bed.

Semi still has it in him to give you a little but of privacy as you wiggle out of your tight jeans, looking away until you slip under the covers.

He helps you pull the plush white comforter closer to your chest, tucking you in.

Your mind doesn’t feel as hazy as it was a few hours ago, but the leftover alcohol coursing through your veins gave you a sort of boost to your impulses.

“Eita,” you whisper, reaching out towards the singer, “Stay?”

The singer halts in his steps and turns to look at you.

“Uh, I don’t know Y/N,” he starts, “You’re drunk right now.”

“No I’m not,” you say, steady voice proving your point. “Please?”

Semi glances over at the door and sighs. He chewed on his lower lip for a few seconds before sighing again.

“Okay.”

。。。

You’re struggling to open your eyes when you wake up, the harsh sunlight streaming into the room completely unfiltered.

Drunk you completely forgot to close the blinds, it seems.

You groan audibly, wanting to pull the covers above your head to hide yourself from this cruel world.

You freeze. Why can you feel someone’s soft breaths on the crown of your head?

Nervously, you reach out in front of you, eyes still shut closed. Oh no.

You force your eyes open, grimacing from the sudden brightness. Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you. Semi Eita, your supposed nemesis, is sleeping soundly a few inches away from you, arms wrapped around your waist.

What the hell happened last night?

A small squeak leaves your mouth as you fully realize the situation you’re in. The small noise wakes Semi up from his slumber, causing him to slowly open his eyes, squinting at the bright light.

“Morning, angel,” he croaks, voice raspy with sleep.

My god does he look pretty in the morning.

You stay there, frozen and unblinking. All the words at the tip of your tongue seem to disappear from existence.

Semi blinks, sitting up quickly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he rubs his eyes vigorously, “I should’ve said no when you asked me to stay. Fuck, you were drunk and I—”

You grab the back of his neck and pull him closer to you, a small smile gracing your lips.

Your thumb grazes Semi’s bottom lip, dragging it down every so slightly before releasing it, enjoying the way he seems to unravel under your touch.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?” you murmur, trying to keep your cool as your heart hammers against your chest loudly.

At this, Semi breaks out of his reverie and laughs, “I thought you’d never ask.”

a/n: if you’ve made it this far, please feel free to let me know what you think about this fic! and please REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED mwah <3

© HAJIMINE — all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, or claim any of my works as your own, thank you.

[taones]

If You Can Hold On - Part 2

Pairing: Poly!Asahi, Daichi + Suga x gender neutral!reader

Notes: lowkey have a mention of Yachi x Kiyoko in this ayyyy and the reader reflecting my thoughts about rain whoop 

Warnings: pining, angst, requited-unrequited love cause we love some dramatic irony, this whole series is hurt/comfort

Find part one here

Soft murmurs woke you from your rough sleep. After hearing them talk about adding another person to their relationship, it was kind of hard to have a good rest. The car had stopped. You four were now parked in a motel car park, bathed in the signs' soft red light. 

“I went in but they only have one room, so all four of us will have to share” 

The disappointed tone to Daichi’s statement felt like an arrow through your heart. You guys were best friends, you shared beds all the time. Why would that matter now? Ever since you had known them you had been comfortable sharing beds etc, even after they started dating. The fact it was different now made you think back to their earlier conversation about a new partner. Did this person not like you? Maybe that was why they weren’t as close with you. The shuffling of your tallest friend pulled your attention once again. They were getting out of the car.

Once again, you pretended to be asleep. There was now ay you were ready to face them without crying and you really didn’t want Asahi to ask for his hoodie back. You were scared it would be the last part of him you had for a long time. The sharp twinge of panic shot through your stomach at the thought of it. There was always a chance that their new partner would like you but not as many people would be as comfortable with their s/o being as close to their friend as those three were. 

“It’s okay” you heard Asahi whisper, “I’ll carry them”

You stirred at that. If he touched you, you were certain you would cry. S it was a perfect time to break your facade. The soft glimmer of tears in your eyes was hidden by the scarlet light shining on your face, something you were thankful for. Cold, wet gravel seeped through the mesh of your shoes but it was okay as long as you were going to be in the room soon, able to be away from the constant reminder the boys gave you. In your ‘sleepy’ state, you pulled your bags out of the car and grabbed the keys from Daichi’s hand. In your haste to walk away, you missed the look of despair on Asahi’s face and the way his shorter boyfriend held his hand to his chest as if you had burnt it with your hasty touch.

The room itself was painted a bright yellow, something you assumed would be more bright if you weren’t feeling so dull yourself. There was a queen size bed in the centre of the room and a sofa off to the side. It was as if the red of the sofa cushions was mocking you with its garish colour, reminding you that you would never actually be with the other three. You scoffed and layed your things on the sofa before pulling out some pyjama shorts and one of Koushi’s t-shirts that you had borrowed. Just as the boys came in, you disappeared into the tiny bathroom to get changed. 

Thinking you had escaped, you sighed and leant against the door. Only to hear the voices of the three men loud and clear. 

“I wonder what’s wrong with y/n” Koushi asked, seemingly dismissive

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon, they don’t hide anything from us” the comforting voice of Sawamura responded

If only they knew just how much you hid from them. If only they knew that even being around them right now was literally breaking your heart. 

“Wait look what I took the other day Suga, it’ll cheer you up”

You heard Azumane pull out his phone and then a sound of awe from the grey haired man.

“I wish we could ask them to join us sooner but we have to wait till we’re back huh?” Suga lamented, “wish this trip could be over already” 

Ouch, that one hurt.

So he was showing them a picture of this mystery person. You really didn’t understand why they hadn’t told you yet. It only made the feeling of dread in you grow, expanding into a pit that sucked in all of your other emotions. If they really wanted this to be over then you may as well just leave them now. Let them leave you behind and pursue this person that you’ll never be.

A knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Looking in the mirror, you noticed tears you didn’t realise had fallen. You managed to hastily rub the evidence of your face and leave the yellow lit room in time for it to not seem too suspicious. You grabbed the blanket that had been laid over the sofa and walked out the door. 

“I’ll be right back, just have to do something” you muttered, avoiding eye contact “don’t wait up for me” 

Cold gravel crunched against your shoes once again and air pricked at your exposed legs. The pool. It was dimly lit but hadn’t been covered so you assumed it was okay for you to sit in. The water was a clear blue and slightly warmed from the earlier sunshine. Perfect for you to stick your legs in. Water and night had always managed to calm you down and stop your thoughts racing. While this was no rain storm, it was good enough for you to swish your cold limbs in and make the calming sounds you liked so much. 

Your reflection stared back at you from the water. There was no hiding the mess you were in, hair dishevelled and an old blanket wrapped around your shoulders. It was no wonder they didn’t want you. The soft ringtone you recognised as Kiyoko’s wrenched you back to reality.

“Hello?” you sniffed down the phone

Kiyoko was another best friend of yours but one you were fortunately not in love with. She and Yachi had been on holiday when you had left but it was clear the couple was now back. Shimizu was the only person that knew about your feelings.

“How are you holding up y/n” her soft voice rang in your ears

“Not well” you admitted, “It’s like they’re doing it on purpose Shimizu”

She hummed, never one for too many words

“They want to add another person to their relationship but they made sure i was sleeping when they talked about it. I don’t know why but it hurts Kiyoko. I know it’s selfish but it hurts so bad, I don’t know how much longer I can take this trip”

Something inside you broke down. It had been a while since you had been able to get this off your chest and it was like a weight was lifted from your shoulders. Tears rolled down your cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time this trip.

“Do you need us to come pick you up y/n?” the woman's voice asked, concern clear

“I really don't know” you admitted with defeat, “I’ll see how it goes but I hate this so much”

The conversation ended rather quickly after that. It was late for you both after all and it had started raining so you had to put your phone in your bag to prevent it from getting wet. What you didn’t notice was the flash of cropped brunette hair disappearing behind your room door.

Cold rain hit your skin. It was refreshing, a break from what you were feeling. Rain was simple. Rain didn’t have feelings, didn’t have thoughts. It was just nice, cool rain and you revelled in it’s simplistic beauty. With closed eyes, you laid on the pool tile and let the droplets hit your face. Even as it got colder and heavier, it was nothing compared to what you felt on the inside and this was something you were thankful for. The silence was comforting and you let your mind slip into nothing but the rain.

Suga came out to check on you after half an hour, worried about the rain. When he saw you laying next to the pool, covered in a layer of wetness and your face cold, he felt a cold wash of fear come over him. The soft rise and fall of your chest reassured him but he knew he would have to get you inside. Asahi came to stand next to his shorter partner, resting his chin on his shoulder sleepily. 

“I wish I knew what was going on in their head sometimes” the grey haired man whispered, “I wish I knew how to save them”

His counterpart hummed and moved to pick your sleeping figure from the ground. You were cold to the touch and your face lacked the despair that had been plaguing it for the whole trip. He felt a flower of guilt grow in the pit of his stomach at the thought the rain had made you happier then they ever could. 

“C’mon” called Daichi from the doorway, “They’re gonna catch their death we need to get them some clothes”

You limp hand came up to grasp at the fabric, not wanting to let go of the comforting presence even in sleep. Three melancholy smiles were sent your way, not that you would ever know. They knew you hated smiles of pity, even if that’s the only ones you really seemed to get from them anymore.

@bewwybun @xeina @mage-moon @naimalove143 @bisasterrr @aristatrois​ @hamiltrash1411​ @tazzi-baby​ @adreamoflonelyaddiction​ 

Hope you guys enjoy, sorry it took so long and sorry about any typos it’s been a long week

[loonylupinnn]

Becoming the Devil: Chapter 3 - Initiation

“Keep her,” He said. My eyes widened. My whole plan had back-fired. I looked anxiously around the room, a blonde man with grey eyes which were keen but pleasant, came in. His hair was shoulder-length, with messy beach waves. 

“Get her a room, Abraxas” The Dark Lord ordered. He nodded, “Oh, and treat her well. She will be staying here with us. Soon to be…” He trailed off, giving his fellow followers a knowing look. Abraxas nodded, leading me out of the room. Instead of taking me down the path to the dungeon, he led me up some staircases. 

“So this is what you’ve been doing” I said, letting a sigh escape my lips. He turned to me, “What do you mean?” He asked. I rolled my eyes, “Oh please! We haven’t seen each other since we were six” I exclaimed. He ignored me, continuing up our journey.

We arrived in front of a dull looking door. He grabbed the metal knob, twisting it open. It was a plain room. Bed, book shelves, small vanity, a window, and a small closet. There was a nightstand with a small lamp on it. The room was dark and cold, like the rest of the manor. The way everything was displayed made me feel like a prisoner.

Before Abraxas left, I spoke to him. “I am going to need to see your ‘lord’” He looked at me confused. “He’s still too weak. Whatever he was thrown at had an impact on him.” I said. “Just because you were captured and are being treated respectfully doesn’t mean you get to choose what will be happening!” He spat, leaving the room. The door slammed shut making me flinch.

I walked towards the window, looking out into the night sky. The gleaming moon shone above us all. Its radiant, mellow moonlight being the only other source of light for the room that was dimly lit by the lamp. The stars painted in the solemn-black sky.

There was a knock on the door making me turn towards it. The door creaked as it was being opened. In it stepped the blonde woman from earlier, Cygnus Black. He looked at me, his hand ran through his hair. 

"Abra- Malfoy has told us you wanted to meet with the Dark Lord?" 

I nodded, moving to sit on my bed. He let a sigh escape, "Midnight. The initiation will be at that time" He spoke, making me confused. 

"Initiation?" I asked. He ignored me, leaving the room before Adaleiz entered. She held in her hands a black lace dress, with a slight slit. It was.. quite revealing, you may say. She placed it at the end of the bed, along with some black heels with golden snakes which wrapped around one’s ankles. 

“You have an hour to get ready, y/n. The Lord doesn't tolerate tardiness.” She gave me a small smile before leaving the room, locking it. I turned over to the clothes, seeing a small, sage-green box. I opened it, spotting two, lace black gloves. They matched the dress.

I started stripping off my clothes, leaving me naked. I put on the under-wear along with the bra they had left me. I got the dress, putting it on to cover my body. The dress was off a gothic look. I grabbed the gloves, using the ribbons to tie them into a bow.

I moved over to the vanity, sitting down on the blood-red, cushion chair. I grabbed the hairbrush. It had golden rims with a snake around the handle. They seemed to be really obsessed with snakes. I brushed my hair, taking away the knot which had been formed. I hummed a small toon as I did. 

There was a knock on the door, making me turn around. There stood the brunette girl, “Melina, was it?” I asked her. She eyed me before nodding. She came over to me, getting the brush. She stood behind me, brushing my hair. “Melina King '' She said in a fake-soft voice. There was something odd in her. 

I shook the feeling off, “Here,” She handed me a black-shade lipstick, eyeliner and mascara. “We shall be going now” Melina hurried me to put on the make up, which was what I did. The girl smiled at me through the mirror. I stood up, putting the heels on. 

I must say that I did look pretty good. It wasn’t something I would wear. Probably something I never expected to wear. 

She led me out of the room. We walked down the many stairs and many halls. The manor was cold causing me to get goosebumps. The two of us stopped in front of two big, metallic doors. You could hear chatter coming from inside the room. She took the two handles, opening the door. 

Inside was a long table. At the head of it, sat the Dark Lord. I believe his name was Tom, perhaps? His followers sat on each side of the table, men and women. There were many of various ages and raises. Tall and short, skinny and plump. Gingers, blondes, brunettes, etc.

The Malfoy family seemed surprised to see me. Except Abraxas of course. Melina walked over to the table, taking a seat. The room fell silent. I stood there, all eyes on me, awaiting to see what would come next. 

The silence was broken by him. “She has finally arrived” The lord said. My eyes trained to his, which were already looking into mine. His gaze made me feel so intimidated yet so alluring. 

“My lord, um, why is it that we need her?” A death eater asked. His gaze moved to his, “Well, she seems to have something useful towards us” A smirk formed onto his lips before turning to me. “Come here, y/n” He ordered. 

I bit my tongue, moving towards the man. I moved towards him. The room was dead silent that you could hear my every step. I stood in front of him. The Dark Lord stood up from his chair, taking my left wrist into his grip harshly. He held my wrist with his right hand, using his left to untie the bow. The glove fell off smoothly onto the ground. 

I looked up to him. He was staring into my eyes. I spotted no emotion in him. No feelings. No nothing. 

He grabbed his wand, placing it onto my inner left forearm. He applied pressure while mumbling a spell or enchantment. There was an intensifying pain which grew by the minute. I let down a ragged gasp, looking down to my arm where the tip of his wand was placed. A figure, a symbol was created.

A skull with a snake coming out of its mouth. It moved around when it finally came to a stop, its mouth open as if it were hissing. I hissed from the pain before looking up at him. He seemed to love watching one in pain.

When the pain stopped, everything stumbled upon me. I had been turned into a Death Eater. My mouth turned into an ‘o’ shape, not being able to let any words let out my mouth.

“Welcome” He smiled evilly, raising his hands up in the air as if he were showing me a grand surprise. He turned to me, grabbing my hand, caressing the mark.

“Welcome to your new life”