#thank you to my company for paying for fanfic

[piratekane]

Roommates au dealer's choice

If you ask Ava, things are going really well. Like, really well. Her apartment is a little far from campus but the walk is good for her. It stretches her morning-tight muscles out so well that by the time she gets to her first class, she's able to cram into the world's most uncomfortable stadium seats ever built and learn about things she wants to learn about.

She has all the things she thought she'd have in college: a regular seat in her Intro to Philosophy class where she can hide her iced coffee from the eagle eyes of her professor; a table in the library that seems to be reserved for her where she can hide her iced coffee from the glare of the world's most ancient librarian; a running study date at the campus coffee shop with a group of people from her Biology 1 lab where the barista knows her by name and always has her iced coffee on the counter.

And the world's coolest roommate.

“Honey, I’m hooome,” she sings as she throws open the apartment door hard enough that nearly hit the wall behind it. She barely stops it.

Beatrice, to her credit, doesn’t flinch. She’s used to it by now, to the way Ava seems to explode into a room. But Ava likes trying, likes seeing how much she can throw Bea off balance. She makes a certain face when something catches her off guard. A slight widening of her eyes and lips parting in surprise. Ava not-so-secretly loves it. 

There’s a lot about Bea that she not-so-secretly loves. And there’s a lot she secretly loves too.

“How did your exam go?”

Ava clicks her tongue. “What about ‘wassup, Ava’? Or ‘Ava, I missed you terribly in the hour you were gone from my side’. What kind of greeting is how did your exam go?”

Bea regards her for a moment before letting out a nearly imperceptible sigh. Ava knows that one, the way it sounds so poorly annoyed but is really just an exhale of fondness. “Hello, Ava. How did your exam go?”

There’s a lot about her that Bea not-so-secretly loves. She hopes there’s a lot Bea secretly loves too.

Ava throws her backpack onto the couch, clocking the way that Bea’s eyes follow it as it lands and bounces onto the floor. She picks it up and puts it down gently, pretending like that’s what she was going to do the whole time. Bea does her the favor of pretending the same.

“Aced it.” She crosses the room to the table where Bea is, what seems like a hundred books spread out in front of her. She frowns. If this is what junior year is going to look like, she wants no part of that. “How is saving the world?”

“It’s Religious Studies. Hardly saving the world.” But Bea’s cheeks redden still. Ava almost taps her on the nose, just to see how far down it’ll go. “But it’s going fine. I’ve nearly worked out quite the thesis for this paper.”

Ava leans over, one hand resting on Bea’s shoulder. She feels the sharp bone under her palm, the way the muscles tense and coil. She actively stops herself from running her fingers down over the cliff of Bea’s collarbone or down the curve of her shoulder to her bicep. It’s unfortunately hidden under a long sleeve shirt today, depriving Ava of one of her favorite views.

She thinks - she hopes - she hears a sharp whistle of an inhale as she leans forward even more, chest at Bea’s eye-level. It takes considerable effort to hide the smirk on her face. She deserves some kind of reward for it and she’ll take her prize in the form of a kiss.

It’s not a prize she’ll actually get. But it doesn’t stop her from dreaming about it.

“Proud of you,” she finally says, turning and pressing a fleeting kiss to Bea’s forehead. Her skin is warm and dry and Ava lets herself linger for just a second before she pulls away.

Maybe Beatrice exhales when she does. Maybe it’s just a trick of the light coming in through their living room window.

“Thank you,” Bea says softly. She arranges an already-perfect stack of papers. “I was thinking we might get Thai for dinner tonight.”

Ava pops up from the refrigerator, a bag of shredded cheese in her hand. “Take out? What’s the occasion?.”

Bea’s face twists in mild disgust. “I’m not sure if I can stomach another night of you eating… shredded cheese. From the bag.” She stands up, caps her pen, and sets it down carefully alongside the two highlighters and the pen she uses only to correct something. Ava watches in fascination, easily caught up in the way Bea’s fingers work effortlessly over them, arranging everything perfectly. “And I have a favor to ask.”

She abandons the shredded cheese. “A favor?” She bumps the refrigerator closed with her hip and leans back across the counter. “From me?”

“It has been known to happen from time to time.” Bea takes a few steps forward until she’s reached the small peninsula that extends from the side of the kitchen out into a breakfast bar where they usually eat unless Ava can convince Bea to sit on the couch. She leans against it, mirroring Ava. “But this is more of a… personal favor.”

“Yes, I’ll fight your parents. You don’t even have to ask.”

Some of the seriousness that was building on Bea’s face, the slight wrinkle in her forehead, breaks. Her mouth turns up in a slight smile, the way it always does when Ava threatens to commit bodily harm in Bea’s honor. Ava grins in return.

“I’ll remember that for the next time one of their letters arrives in the mail.” She looks thoughtful again. “No, I was wondering if…” Bea’s hands flutter in front of her for a moment before they settle into a tight knot. “Well, if you might tell me what makes me appealing to other people.”

Ava almost wishes she had a mouthful of the wine in the back of the refrigerator she’s saving for when she finds out how she did on her Poetry and Politics paper. Just so that she could spit it out and illustrate how ridiculous of a question Beatrice is asking right now. But she settles for twisting her face in confusion and staring at Bea.

Bea takes her silence as a no. “I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “That was a silly question. Forget I asked.” The walls are closing quickly. Ava is watching boards going up in the windows and two by fours going across the doors. “Of course, we can still get Thai food. Mary recommended their-”

“Bea.” Bea’s mouth snaps closed. “I wasn’t saying no. I was just… Do you really need someone to tell you?”

But the look on Bea’s face says that, yes. She does need someone to tell her. Ava considers herself a master in many subjects but she’s an expert at the ways in which Beatrice is appealing. So she carefully regards Bea and purses her lips and nods.

“I’ll do it.”

She thinks maybe there’s a flicker of relief on Bea’s face, but it passes quickly. She doesn’t linger on it. Ava crosses her arms over her chest, chin in the air as she studies Bea and resists the urge to cross the room. “Well, first of all, you always leave a light on for the last person coming home.”

Bea’s lips purse in a frown.

“And you never make me do the dishes by myself, even if you’re just sitting here with me. You don’t mind getting mushrooms on your pizza, even if I know you think they’re slimy.” Ava uncrosses her arms, starts counting on her fingers. “You keep soda in the apartment even though you think it rots my teeth. You always vacuum when I’m not home because you know how much the sound freaks me out.”

Bea’s frown deepens. “I think that makes me… a good roommate. For you.”

“The best,” Ava agrees. “No one else I’d rather be roommates with.” Bea is still frowning and Ava feels herself melt a little. She gives in this time, crossing the room to press her thumb gently to the space between Bea’s forehead, feeling the skin smooth out under her touch. “But you’re also incredibly kind. People can trust you with their lives. You’re humble, considerate. Insanely intelligent. Hilarious. And… my best friend.”

Bea smiles softly, eyes cutting down with slight embarrassment. 

“Plus.” Ava’s hand drifts without her permission, dancing across Bea’s cheek to curl around her neck to hold her gaze. “You’re hot.”

This close, she can see Bea swallow and hear the near-silent inhale of air. This close, she can feel how the words land and how they alter Bea. Ava smooths her thumb against Bea’s neck, feeling her pulse pound under thin skin. She feels herself swaying in a little, the tips of her bare feet touching Bea’s slippered toes. Her eyes drop to Bea’s lips.

She could throw caution to the wind. She could cut through the last threads of her reasonable thoughts and kiss Bea right here in their kitchen. But Bea deserves a big romance with a kiss and a side of fireworks. And Ava still has pieces of cheese stuck to her other hand. So she settles for brushing her thumb against Bea’s neck one last time and breaking the moment with a wink.

“I can write you a recommendation, if you want,” she offers as she takes a small step backwards, smiling as charmingly as she can. “Unless you’re collecting this information so that you can sell yourself to some other idiot with a better apartment.”

Bea blinks once, then twice. Her face clouds for a moment before it clears and Ava is looking back at the Bea she’s used to, albeit a little pinker in the cheeks. “Don’t be silly,” she says, voice thinner than usual. “I’d simply make you move out.”

Ava’s mouth drops open. “Me? I’d have to move out? No way. I’m basically built into the woodwork at this point.” She jabs a finger at Bea. “You jump, I jump. What’s that one line you like, from Ruby?”

“Ruth,” Bea corrects quietly. “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you,” she quotes. “Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay.”

Ava nods with an air of finality. “You’re my forever-roomate, Beatrice. Where you go, I will go, and where you stay, I will stay.”

Bea smiles, eyes on the floor for a moment before they meet Ava’s. “Okay. I suppose I can live with that.”

“Good.” Ava takes a deep breath, holding it in her cheeks, and blowing it out loudly. “You said Thai, right? Does that mean we get to eat in the living room? I pinky promise not to drop any satay sauce on the carpet.” She bounces on the tips of her toes hopefully and cheers a little when Bea sighs out a yes. Ava beams as Bea picks through the menus in the drawer that Beatrice swears the can opener is, if only Ava would truly look for it.

“You’re my forever-roommate too, Ava,” Bea says quietly as she passes Ava the take out menu. “In case you didn’t know it.”

“I did,” she lies. “But it’s nice to hear you say it every once in a while.”

Bea’s hand brushes across the back of hers and then she’s drifting away, back to the table and her homework like leaving Ava with all this knowledge - that Bea wants to be with her forever - isn’t a truth that Ava will think about for the rest of the night. Bea must know. She has to. It's the only thing that makes sense.

So, yeah. Things are going well. They’re going really well. 

[bitchlessdino]

demon's play 2: devil's intervention (m)

Original - Demon's play Pairing: devil!wonwoo x demon!seungcheol x demon!chan x afab human!reader Genre: smut Word count: 10k tags: plot heavy, some fluffish moments, perpetual fear, ikea employee!reader, dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, verse!chan, verse!seungcheol, cum drunk!demons, violent graphic imagery (death, lashing, sacrifices), mentions of blood, Voyeurism, biting to the point of blood, MLM themes that is not based off of any implications of reality, hair pulling, choking, spitting, double fem head, biting, mentions of holes (referencing anal play), mentions forked tongue and sharp tail (and it being used for some kind of hitting), oral (giving and recieving), handjobs, degradation, multiple orgasms bc girls its possible i swear, cum swallowing, nipple play, unprotected sex Summary: it's been some time since Chan and Seungcheol abandoned the underworld for you, a simple human. The ruler of the underworld does not too kindly to distractions, even ones so prettily packaged such as yourself. It was time he took matters into his own hands. author note: yall remember this? I just wanna give my utmost gratitude to @multi-kpop-fanfics for reading my fic front to back, beginning to end, rough to final, the whole nine yards and boosting up my self-esteem like no other. I am so excited for this bc i think this is the dirtiest yet (with room to improve) so thank you so much my lovely demon babe zeta.

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic @kaiser211 @pantumin @unlikelysublimekryptonite @channiesliquor @i4kt

The world has made most people believe that the devil was born out of evil and hate. By word of mouth, the devil has become the most vile most disgustingly despicable spirit imaginable and that’s why they were cast as ruler of the underworld, that only he could conjure up the world’s most cruelest and grueling punishments for the above-ground world’s sinners.

The one thing Wonwoo despised the most was that assumption. The true history of its origins was that he and his predecessors were chosen ones. Not so much made to be the devil but rather he had been nurtured to exist as one, much like how humans grow up on the Earth’s crust. Wonwoo, following the footsteps before him, was no fallen angel. 

He was god’s favorite—that was at most correct—but for being the most impartial and like-minded to them. The only other person to rule a world such as the light land, heaven according to humans; or the underworld, also known as hell. His status was a gift but over time became a curse, a burden by god who bestowed it upon him.

A truly dedicated and impartial person would understand the severity of sinners and their stories. Particularly, the proper punishments. A lifetime of ruling the underworld had made him numb. Only power and order kept him sane.

The moment those two things decline, so does his patience.

Not one, but two, of his dutiful service demons disappear in a matter of 4 Earthly months. Had it been in the initial era of his ruling, he would not pay it a single second where they went, but after a millennium of the sickening sights he’s swallowed, he would not stand for this inconsistency. The one thing that he looked forward to was the company, no matter how annoying and clingy they can be. 

Wonwoo hadn’t stepped onto Earth in an indiscernible expanse of time and it was unlike what he remembered, one thing was clear, the underworld was infamous for its inferno weather, but Earth weather was another kind of disgusting. The vessel he took on made it intolerable, perspiration beading revoltingly on the back of his neck. He adjusted his glasses, slipping his hands into his pockets, and sought to discern an energy unlike any he had encountered among the feeble humans thus far.

He succeeded in isolating a unique energy signature, yet the absence of his demons momentarily cast doubts upon his intuition. Then, he found you, standing in what he determines to be a reliquary of transcribed lore, the incubus scent growing stronger as he drew closer. You seemed no different from any other human, vulnerable and defenseless against his indomitable power, and utterly ordinary.

So why had he started crying?

In the recesses of his consciousness, fleeting images of a countenance reflecting yours danced like ethereal flames. The memory of your smile–or one like yours–gentle yet insistent, reached out and seized at the very core of his being, unfurling layers he never fathomed existed. It had been eons since he last experienced such human-like tethering since he too was bound to Earth by the fragile ties of blood and flesh.

However, your presence was the catalyst for their absence, a glaring aberration in his otherwise solitary existence. And that singular realization meant only one course of action: the inexorable termination of your existence.

Wonwoo observed you from afar, studying your every movement, your predictable patterns of behavior, and the places you frequented like clockwork. Everything from your favorite place of consumption to the branding of hygienic production you purchase at a typical brick and mortar were all meticulously cataloged in his mind. The striking similarity between you and this entity from a bygone era stirred an unsettling disquiet within him, sending shivers down his spine with each passing moment. The longer he observed, the more his curiosity swelled, growing into an insatiable hunger for understanding you beyond what you present on the outside.

By now, Wonwoo had deduced just one aspect of your culinary predilections: a fondness for toasted bagels generously adorned with a creamy spread of a concoction called cream cheese and sprinkled with chopped chives. After a series of meticulous trials, he affirmed that this particular combination was not only pleasing but also a sensory delight to his refined palate.

However, your brewed coffee, fused with thickened dairy and doused in sugary syrup, was an entirely different story. Its sickening sweetness overwhelmed his taste buds, rendering it utterly unpalatable—a mere shadow compared to the gods’ divine ambrosia.

Humans truly were deserving of hell, you were no exception.

Wonwoo persisted in his quest to unravel the complex layers of your being, methodically tracing each footstep until they guided you back to the comforting confines of your earthly sanctuary. Veiled within the shadows, he seamlessly merged with the enigmatic darkness surrounding him, his gaze fixated on you with an intensity that pierced through the veil of mundane reality. With unwavering focus, his eyes followed the subtle movements of your fingers as they danced across the surface of a seemingly ordinary sentinel interface, a portal to the realm of security and protection.

‘0717.’ A rather simple yet familiar sequence of numbers in a form of security. 

With a precision honed through meticulous observation, he deftly navigated the labyrinthine corridors of your mortal dwelling. Transfusing effortlessly with the darkness, he moved through with a silent grace, his spectral presence a mysterious entity amidst the Earthly realm, devoid of any physical embodiment to shroud himself. With each passing moment, he attuned himself to the subtle rhythms of your routine, mastering the delicate interplay of light and dark until he could foresee your every movement with unmatched accuracy.

Finally, he discerned their voices, those traitorous whispers that pierced the silence.

“You’re home, pet.”

Wonwoo's gaze bore into the flesh embodiment of the young demon, seething at their shameless behavior before arms snaked around your mortal form. "I've missed you dearly," Chan cooed, his fingers delicately parting your hair from your face.

"I'm sorry for making you wait," you apologized, the sincerity evident in the softness of your voice. Your eyes held a glint of warmth as they met Chan's, a mixture of affection and contrition swirling within their depths. With gentle fingers, you reached out to adjust the folds of his human attire, intimacy amidst the sensual warmth that polluted the entraped space.

"Today was a longer day than usual, too many distractions. Please don’t be mad," your words laced with earnest.

"Oh, darling. I could never be mad at you," Chan responded tenderly, his gaze softening as he drew you closer. His touch is a comforting anchor amidst the hidden chaos swirling in the corner of the room, undetectable by the human and demon.

Seungcheol emerged from the kitchen, his form draped in a simple mortal garment that seemed unfit for his eternal significance. The cotton apron, stained and worn, clung to him like a tattered shroud, its once vibrant colors faded into a dreary mortality. As he approached you, a wave of revulsion washed over the Devil beneath his hiding space, his senses assaulted by the sight of such lowly attire adorning one who should command awe and reverence with his masculine presence alone.

With an unsettling blend of kindness and audacity in his gaze, Seungcheol dared to step into the embrace, his very presence a direct challenge to Wonwoo's finely honed sensibilities. The devil recoiled inwardly, a wave of repulsion washing over him at the proximity of this figure seemingly draped in the mundane fabrics of ordinary existence. Meanwhile, you found yourself ensnared within the comforting embrace of Seungcheol, willingly inviting him into your sphere despite the tension radiating from Wonwoo's silent disapproval.

"Supper awaits you," Seungcheol declared, his voice nauseating and unsettling to Wonwoo's refined ears, reminiscent of the sound of nails scraping across a chalkboard. Each saccharine syllable felt like a direct challenge to Wonwoo's perception of the demon he thought he knew. He observed, with a mixture of surprise and disdain, how Seungcheol appeared to have embraced the mundanity of domesticity and the mortal realm, embodied in the form of you, a mere lowly human.

For the first time in a millennium, Wonwoo felt sick to his stomach, as if it were possible with his immortal being.

He resigned himself to endure the ordeal for the sake of continued observation, silently watching from their concealed vantage point as the scene unfolded.

"You smell..." Chan's words trailed off as he inhaled deeply, allowing the complex tapestry of your scent to envelop him. "Delectable. Far more enticing than that banal perfume the servitude coerces you to wear."  With each breath, he discerned the delicate interplay of notes that bespoke your essence, a symphony of subtleties far richer than any artificial fragrance. As he drew you closer, he marveled at the intoxicating allure that emanated from your pores.

Wonwoo, too, found himself captivated by the depths of your natural aroma. Beneath the manufactured layers and demon essence, he detected the faint traces of your natural aroma—an intoxicating blend that beckoned with a magnetic allure, stirring a primal fascination within him. The embodiment of your rich humanity. It was a scent that spoke volumes, weaving a narrative vulnerability that resonated with him in an unexplainable way.

"No one's forcing me to wear anything," you reassured. "It's simply to smell pleasant during 12-hour workdays."

"You already smell pleasant without it! Even better, in fact!"

"Keep your voice down, Chan," Seungcheol cautioned.

“I apologize, pet, but at least only we get the pleasure of having you to ourselves.” The demon’s hand trailed deviously over your figure, a smile dancing against his features. "The supper wouldn't satisfy me the way you could, my darling.”

Wonwoo swallowed, keenly observing your reaction. The pebbling of your skin, your internal temperature rising beneath Chan’s fingertips, the moan hitched in your breath. Wonwoo clenched his fists, gaze hardening as the young demon’s filthy hands traveled further down your body, only watching as his hands cupped your heat hidden underneath layers of articles of clothing. Beneath the demon’s grip was thick arousal, soaking through your undergarments, drawing both demons–as well as the Devil–into a simple, yet powerful, spell.

"Allow the poor mortal to eat, you insatiable boy,” Seungcheol interjected, against his better judgment. “If you're insistent on nourishment, ensure they are in good health for feeding. Otherwise, their stamina would dwindle away as if it was nothing."

Chan scoffs, gently unhanding you but bridging the gap between his lips and your cheek, undoubtedly blistering the skin of your face from his heat of a thousand suns. “Fine, after you’ve eaten then. Then there’s no stopping my ravishing.”

The unlikely trio committed what seemed unfathomable to Wonwoo: they shared a meal and engaged in proper communication. The sight was bewildering; never in his wildest imaginings could he have conceived of two of his most loyal eternal servants obeying the commands of someone of your ilk. To Wonwoo, it felt like a humiliation, an erosion of the boundaries he had meticulously established. Yet, neither Chan nor Seungcheol appeared to share his concerns. As he watched them interact with you, he was taken aback by the unexpected humanity in their eyes, the warmth and devotion that seemed out of place in their demonic existence.

All Wonwoo desired was for them to consume the human and resume their demonic duties. The fact that the human remained alive contradicted all expectations; by all rights, they should have perished by now. Yet here they were, challenging his understanding of their loyalty to him, the lord of the underworld.

Seungcheol, renowned for his icy demeanor and unswerving commitment, had long served as Wonwoo's steadfast right-hand man. Like an unyielding pillar of iron, he stood unmoved amidst the ceaseless torments endured by countless unfortunate souls. His stoic resolve had been a constant in the chaos of their realm. 

Seungcheol was now in a role entirely unfamiliar to him. Gone was the facade of impassivity; instead, he delicately spoon-fed you soup, his normally unyielding countenance softened by a rare display of tenderness. It was a startling departure from the sternness that had characterized his every action until now, leaving Wonwoo to ponder the stark change unfolding before him.

As for Chan, laughter was reserved for the aftermath of whoever was his next meal or the spectacle of sinners being skinned alive in the fiery depths of the inferno, his favorite daytime event. There was a time when Wonwoo harbored an intense disdain for Chan and all that he represented. Every fiber of his being recoiled at the mere thought of Chan's existence, a visceral reaction fueled by a deep-seated revulsion.

He was once nothing but a vile, loathsome creature, radiating an aura of wretchedness and abhorrence in every aspect of his being. However, that was common for a demon. Wonwoo has not only grown used to the young demon’s cruelty, but he found the passion admirable. Now, Chan found himself utterly entranced by your...simplicity, his typically impish demeanor cushioned with the gentle stroke that swept your hair away from your face, careful not to disrupt your meal with any discomfort.

Wonwoo was perturbed. The devil waited for no one. He knew he must take them back at once. He could not stand for this no longer. The world was standing on the edge of crisis if these two lowly demons do not dare come back to the underworld, they would face his wrath. He had to force he hand until they were begging him to take them back. 

Yet, he stood still as he watched them enter the bedroom. Immersed in his silent fury, it dissipates in the unraveling of your clothing, each article falling to the ground like blossom petals in the spring or leaves in the fall. Seungcheol had managed to find the column of your neck in an abrasive squeeze between meeting your lips in a wet and ravenous liplock. Your moan was trapped down your throat, mumbles of submission in its stead, and your hands roamed over him at a hungry pace, tracing over every muscle pulsing under your palms.

Chan wasted no opportunity to cease your defenseless behind, his throbbing erection prodding against you as he reclaimed your heat now melting against his fingers. His teeth gnawed against the back of your neck, breaking skin, and exposing blood into the thick air. His tongue, catches its taste of iron, humming in delight as his fingers plunge inside you with conviction.

Wonwoo was not new to sexual acts, clearly. Nor, was he a man of celibacy in the slightest. Yet, the moment your voice broke into the charged air, he felt something enter his immortal body and churned stomach, then he was clutching his metaphorical pearls of chaste as he swallowed a lump of regret. Despite his egregious power, the scene made him frozen where he stood, feet plastered to the ground. 

He didn’t find a second where he could intervene, thinking study was necessary before he could deliver his final strike. Of course, that’s all this was. Nothing else.

“You’re starving aren't you,” Seungcheol growled. “I could smell your arousal for me before you even entered the apartment.”

“Tell me about it,” Chan joined, immersed in the air around you wafting in his nose. “There’s lust in these veins of yours,” his tongue swiped over the blood on his lips. “Don’t tell me you’ve been thinking about this all day…We fuck you every waking day of your life, and that’s still not enough. Isn’t that right?”

A “No,” barely made it past your lips before they were crushed under the weight of Seungcheol’s, and then you were the one starting to taste iron. Its aroma was as strong as they claimed, and Wonwoo fell under the same impression.

Chan tucked your hair behind your head, tugging you in his direction as his teeth skins into the base of your neck, his cock exposed in an instant and hugged between the plush felt of your ass. Your eyes retreated to your skull, trembling as Seungcheol’s cock pressed against your stomach. A shatter sigh broke out from your throat and you let them take over control of your feeble body.

They folded you forward, your lips mere inches away from the head of Seungcheol’s cock–teasing you in its glistening glory–as Chan’s precious weapon was ready to take the plunge. “Take it,” the young demon demanded with an underlying of a growl. “Then you will feel enlightened once again, pet.”

It didn't take you much longer to oblige, allowing Seungcheol’s size to be swallowed between and past your lips, hitting the back of your throat. Seungcheol’s fingers flossed through your locks, gripping at the root, and buried himself inside you as his eyes glowed at the glisten of yours. He could taste the power coursing through him, gently bobbing you up and down as you strained to fit all of him.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he softly encouraged, “does it hurt?”

You muffled an answer, one of confirmation.

“But you’re gonna try taking it all, aren’t you?”

To which, you mimiciked the sound before, twice as gingerly.

Your legs parted wide for Chan to make himself known in your sopping cunt and not a moment too soon, his slamming of his hips commenced, watching the cushion of your ass recoil against him. Your whimpers were muffled around Seungcheol as your arms were torn from control and roughly pinned behind your back in a vicious grip. Your eyes shot back Seungcheol in impulse, vibrating up his skin as Chan pounded your body back like dough, eyes and cheeks burning helpless yet complying tears.

The elder demon sent you no look of pity, only a smile of arrogance as he thrust faster, savoring how every inch of your body reacted in a delicious symphony. He has marveled at the tenderness and sensitivity of human skin before, but your flesh; it moldable like clay, looking almost edible, a fitting meal for one who craves the most tender of meat. Both demons groaned of ecstasy, letting you take the lashes of their hips at either of your welcoming ends. Even Wonwoo had to admit it was a sight to behold.

The back and forth of pampering and degrading ultimately led you to what happened every night since the three have been acquainted, blood curdling screams that could be mistaken for cold murder. In most cases for Wonwoo, the assumption wasn’t off, but tonight it was reserved for another sinful act. One that Wonwoo particularly was inexplicably intrigued with.

There seemed no end to your thirst for physical and sensual sanctity—no matter how rough and humiliating—and before any of them knew it, it had been hours since it’s been initiated. The devil stared at your body, glowing in your human perspiration, bare chest rising as falling to the pattern of your breaths, and cunt dripping in every fluid imaginable. 

Alive and well. Elated even.

Impressed wouldn’t be the word coating the tip of the devilish intruder’s tongue, yet he can’t help but applaud you and your endurance. It made him wonder what it was that’s in you that made you this way. 

Wonwoo decided an investigation was in order, and no, that did not mean another scandalous showcase of how deep one’s mortal throat and taking two demonic phallic pieces at once.

“Can I help you find anything you’re looking for?”

Your voice, like velvet, strokeed his eardrums, allowing him to inconspicuously and gently avert his feigned attention from mortal furniture that could not compare to the material in the existence of the depths of the underworld, let alone from of the light land it so obnoxiously claims when exclaiming ‘like Heaven’s clouds’. The corner of his lips quipped upwards curiously as he briefly absorbed your features upclose, seeing the overwhelming facade of hospitality dance its somehow subtle waltz. From the soften of your brow and gentle pucker of your parted lips, he could sense how your poised demeanor melted under his presence now towering over you. 

“I’m actually looking for, um, things in my new apartment.” He imposed a chuckle, something lighthearted that emulated a false sense of security. “New place, new furniture. Not sure where to start. I’m used to people making that decision for me.”

Wonwoo hadn’t lied, it was true the underworld had been built in a way he couldn’t touch or alter, he just would have anything from this furniture store—let alone its air—in the residence that he’s long occupied in.

Afterall, the store was chaos embodied. The humans ran havoc with their tedious wonder and overzealous catalogs of boisterous furnishing as their spawnlings running up and down long corridors, jumping on fortresses of slumber with their filthy footware, and making a mockery of wreck of a merchant shop. No amount of coffee bitters and undercooked fruit pastries from its cafeteria would change that.

Nevertheless, Wonwoo was playing his part of lowly human, looking for a change in his sanctity, parting way for a furniture store in his aid.

“Of course.” You grinned tightly, eyes creasing as your cheekbones rose to the surface, bitten by the crisp ventilated air. “Well, we have an amazing selection of couches from leather to tweed, bookshelves made of the finest wood or strongest steel, anything you can possibly imagine. Where would you want to start first?”

Wonwoo honestly could not fathom such extensive assortment of furnishing, experiencing what buyer’s fatigue for the first time in his immortal life. He had trailed behind you and your guidance incessantly, playing on the charade of interested clientele, hoping at some point it’s come to an farewell and he could end his pursuit already. 

God, were humans tediously boring.

“And that about does it. Any that pique your interest?” You asked, rather hopefully. “I do remember your attention lingering on the antique wooden desk with secret compartments.”

That faired the most interest of his out of any of the pieces here. Like made of magic, it held more than an entity could handle and store, perfectly adorn and crafted with the most intricate carvings that would take day–no, weeks–to perfectly master. Standing on a wooden easel, the light perfectly captured graining, almost enchanting in its own simple way. It was…acceptable for mortal furniture.

“It looked alright,” he managed to muster. “I may have to come back sometime again to get a better look. I’m just looking around for now.”

“No problem. If you change your mind, I can just take you to some of our kiosks and ring you and have it shipped to you in one to three business days.” 

Your radiant smile illuminated even the most mundane tasks, leaving Wonwoo to ponder if your vitality extended beyond mere physical prowess. Such boundless energy and brilliance seemed incongruous within the confines of your modest frame. Perhaps there were depths to your character that he had yet to fathom.

"Um," he faltered, his voice wavering like the uncertain breeze in the depths of darkness in the darkest corner of his realm. Unlike the practiced guile he had wielded before to ensnare your confidence, this hesitation was genuine, born of a deep-seated unease. "Do you visit this cafe often?" he inquired, gesturing with a trembling thumb toward the dimly lit alcove nestled within the labyrinthine market, its air redolent with the tantalizing aroma of spiced venison and frothy elixirs.

You softly chuckled, clearing taking his soft tone as friendly conversation. “On occasion. Their dessert are a hit or miss, but the meatballs. Some say its overhyped, but its meat in my mouth, I’m not complaining.”

Your choice of words rendered you motionless, frozen in a sudden onset of shock, a hand instinctively leaping to cover your mouth. “I–that sounds so…”

Wonwoo interrupted you with a sincere smile and subtle ripple of mirth. I’m sure you very much welcome it. “I think I get what you mean.”

“Please don’t—just forget about the words that came out of my mouth.”

“Hard to forget to but,” Wonwoo pretended seal his lips with a zipper, invisible to the naked eye, while grinning impossibly hard, “as you wish.”

“I’m so embarrassed. My mind hasn’t been in the most…nevermind, but yes, the food is good. Drinks are worth a try. Avoid the cherry danish and substitute it for the cheese.” You attempt an escape, hoping to conjure a locker room out of thin air to hide in, knowing very well it across the other side of the building.

“Maybe, you could give a more indepth review,” He offered, his footsteps lightly treading towards you. “You seem to know the menu very well, and I have to say, I’m getting a bit hungry.”

You gazed upon the devil, unknowingly drawn by curiosity, your feet rooted to the ground in a mingling of shame and intrigue. The handsome stranger's invitation beckoned you. Eating on the job was a big no-no, with the only exception being the attempt to make a sale. Yet, beneath the weight of quotas and obligations, lingered the prospect of forging a new acquaintance—one that had captured your attention the moment you laid eyes on him.

“I could help you out with that.”

By no means was it a feast fit for the gods, but it stirred a ravenous hunger within the devil. Hearty, yet unassuming. A blend of ground meat, breadcrumbs, and spices, molded into spherical perfection and coated in a rich, savory sauce. It was the epitome of culinary simplicity—a revelation that Wonwoo had long forgotten food could possess such goodness.

“Wow.”

“Right? How do they do it? Some people even just come by for lunch.”

He continued to devour every inch of his plate. The meat. The gravy. The peas. The potatoes. He was in another world at the moment. 

“Why is it so cheap?” He pondered out loud.

“So the customers would feel more compelled to buy furniture. A little reward for all your stalking of the right furnishing.”

“The marketing is genius,” he exclaimed softly,  as he scarfed down more, ready to order a plate of 18.

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve met someone as into them as I am.”

He faltered in his movement, now forking over them curiously. “They are good. Like you said.”

You sighed, your gaze drifting over the glossy sheen of the brown coating on your chosen morsel. "Yeah, but I guess, I like this because it reminds me of home. My mom always made me a plate after I got home from school. It’s kind of nostalgic. I mean, sure, I can make some of my own, maybe even better than this, but having it made in a building with fake rooms that look like parts of a house reminds me of home. Weird, huh?"

Wonwoo remains silent. The only home he has ever known was the underworld, and any memory before that has dissipated as if it never existed. The closest semblance to it was you, a figure from his fleeting recollections of a past life. Someone who had begun to resurface in his once vacant vessel.

“Maybe that just amplifies their goodness,” he finally quipped, taking another mouthful.

You smiled, strangely comforted by his words. You didn’t think you’d enjoy having lunch with a stranger this much, but your surprise, there was more that meets the eye. And you had yet even learned his name. “If it's that good, you wouldn’t mind lunch here again? Maybe I’ll finally convince you to get that antique desk and-or even a sofa?”

A soft chuckle slipped from Wonwoo's lips. "Maybe.”

His ‘maybe’s turned into more when he started visiting every day with very little prospect of purchase and gradually the familiar musk of his demons no longer clouded your actual scent, etched into the depths of his weathered mind. You sat together, sipping drinks and discussing imaginary furniture as if you were lifelong companions, sharing laughter as if it were the most ordinary and natural thing in the world.

Occasionally, Wonwoo would let his eyes travel, slowly dropping to the bareness of your exposed clavical, lingering over a shirt that seemed to have mysteriously unbuttoned one or two buttons too many, guiding his eyes to the gentle slopes of your breasts cradled beneath the weight of your crossed forearms. For some inexplicable reason, he found himself mesmerized, your beauty increasingly captivating, stealing away minutes and hours in your presence without him even noticing. And yet, he didn't mind one bit.

"You're gonna have to buy something eventually," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Then who's going to come to work and make your job a little easier every day?"

You softly scoffed, tearing yet another meatball but now dipping it in the bitter sweetness of the jam provided. "I don't need my job to be easier, I need to make money.”

He softly quirked up a corner of his lips in an impish smile, "Then stop having lunch with me then.”

"Not until you buy a couch.” You sternly refuted, failing to subdue the smile on your face.

You always would use that excuse, excusing work as purpose, and drawing the line between the two. Salesperson and customer. 

Before Wonwoo knew it, it had been a week since the first encounter, and strangely enough meeting you in a prompt sales pitch was something he was starting to look forward to.

“Maybe today’s the day. Maybe the couch of my dreams is in this store.”

You gazed at him with a straw between your lips, smiling knowingly at how untrue his proclamation was. He had never come close to making a purchase, yet you entertained him every time he walked past those double doors. The question is, why? Why does he insist on teasing you with the temptation of business and humiliate you by going against your expectations? What does he have to achieve by this?

“You’re breaking my heart here, Mr. Wonwoo.”

He chuckled at your nickname, growing rather fond of his name making past of your lips. How delicate you made him sound to be. 

“I think you rather enjoy my company.”

“That has nothing to do with our little…arrangment.”

He leaned forward, mesmerizing eyes piercing back at you in a way that made your heart chase. His bottom lips softly dropped to speak before he gently observed your features, convincing you he could notice from the shift of your throat to the halt in your breath. He met your eyes once again. “What is our…arrangement?”

You exhaled, sipping your drinking and hearing the obnoxious slurp of your now empty cup, and somehow your throat was still dry. “I think its pretty obvious.”

“Obvious? You give me too much credit.”

“Well, you’re here for furniture but have yet bought any.”

“Does that culminate a dispute between you and I?”

“Not exactly, but–”

“And aren’t you paid regardless if you spend time with me?”

“Yes, but–”

His laughter was light, a hint of mischief lingering. “Then I don’t see the issue. You enjoy my company, you get paid to do your job. Win-win.”

He had a point. You had no reason to complain, he made your work days rather easy in comparison to other days he isn't present. Not to mention, shortens the day drastically because you could talk to him all day without a fuss. Nonetheless, this was a job. Not high school.

Plus, how would they thought if they knew of this?

“Tell me, Wonwoo. What is it you here for? If not to help me earn commission?”

“Perhaps…I’m simply drawn to you. I want to know your name, what you eat, and what takes up most of your day. Maybe I have stopped thinking about you since I first laid my eyes on you and I can’t help but make it a routine to see you on a certain amount of days during the week so I don’t miss you.”

You didn't expect this, at least not a proclamation this powerful, yet jarring. 

“Then, maybe we should stop while we’re ahead, especially considering we know it’s going nowhere.”

“Is that really how you think? Or are you scared you don’t know what to expect from me?”

“...I–”

A deep chuckle escaped him, rising and dropping his chest as it tried suppress his laughter from becoming something more. “I’m kidding.”

“Not very funny, Mr. Jeon.”

“I apologize. My humor is not understood by most, but they laugh anyway. Probably scared if I’m serious.”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, I think for the hard work you’ve done you do deserve a sale, so…I will be buying a couch today.”

Your eyes jumped in size.  “Seriously?”

“There’s some things I take lightly but not people’s livelihoods.” It was natural the devil had boundaries, although, he wasn’t sure if he was truthful about the pretainment to jokes.

“Wow, um. Let me take you to a payment kiosk, we can ring you up.”

Wonwoo ran through the catalog, seeking a specific name amongst the millions of others until his eyes landed on it. The Amelia sectional couch with soft high-density foam seating, a rolled arm on either end, built on top of the sturdiest hardwood, and crafted in the most luxurious cream leather. A stand-out piece for any home. You raved about it, dreaming of one day owning a piece like it yourself one day. Then you would have truly made it.

“That’s an excellent choice. I’m seeing you’re taking my advice after all. Although, I am surprised with this choice since you eyed the Selzar in maroon more. I thought it rather suited you compared to the Amelia.”

“You’re right, it doesn't suit me.” He swiped the credit card he foraged from his pocket, before turning the screen away from him, facing it toward you. “Your address.”

“W-what?”

“Well, the store will need it for the couch to be sent to your home.”

“Wonwoo, I cant let you do that.”

“Why not? It’s a gift. For all your hard work.”

“It’s too much.”

“I’m making the purchase, you get your commission, a new couch, and all the more reason for me to visit.”

“Why would you do this?”

He didn’t say anything, only smiling just a hint before turning the screen back toward him when you dont respond, making you wonder how did he ever figure out your address. However, that was the least of your worries.

The couch arrived the next day: your day off, and familiar faces of your coworkers grinned at you as they installed the pieces of the furniture in the middle of your apartment, playfully jabbing at you about the grand gesture of Wonwoo, the infamous customer that always seemed to have your attention. No matter how much you dismissed the matter, they persisted until the very second they were done, now leaving your apartment as a new owner of the most beautiful piece of furniture you ever thought about owning. 

You thought were still dreaming ever so as you ran your hand over the buttery smooth leather and feeling how cool and malleable it felt under your body. You softly moaned as the fabric grazed your cheek, buzzing at the fulfillment of your new furniture, falling in love with it like a new lover.

“Careful now, pet. Jealousy should not be extended towards inanimate objects.”

You softly giggled before Chan decided to join you to embrace your sides as he also grew into the comfort that was the new mysterious gift. A crackle of a moan escaped his lungs and he held you tighter, as if this single piece of furniture was somehow magic, enchanted to trap you both in a sealment of comfort. “Fine, I concede. This is amazing.”

“You’re so silly,” you teased before hugging your chest to his, eyes lifting up to stare at his brewing in a storm of stars and darkness. “Isn’t it the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on?”

“Well, no.” His fingers went on to trace your jaw, lips parting and he imagined himself biting down, marking your skin with his canines. “That title is reserved for you. Would've thought you learned that by now.”

“Sure, but isn’t it fantastic? It’s beautiful.”

He chuckled at your awe, a soft sigh drawing through his nose, his hunger intensely garnering the longer he stared. “Where did you get such a grand, boisterous thing, darling?”

Your breath ceased for a moment, mustering up a proper answer, “Oh, just someone from work gifted it to me.” You weren’t lying. It did come from work and you did meet Wonwoo at work and he did gift it to you. It was harmless.

“Working hard, I see? Mmh,” His hand combed through your hair, eyes full of mirth twisting into burning fire as he didn't drop his gaze. “Maybe I should reward you as well. Perhaps by—how you say—‘break in’ your new gift?”

You softly let his name resonate on your tongue, feeling his passing hand cup over the spill of the flesh of your ass as he squeezed. You tensed, drawing yourself closer in wary caution. “You won't actually break my new couch, will you?”

His lip quirked up in a grin. “Well, I guess that’d make the furnishing rather short lived, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try breaking you.”

Chan devoured the quiver of your lips–tasting their feverish want–just as quickly as he tossed you on top of him, the friction of your clothes causing the muffled sounds of aches vibrating against his lips. In a flash, he ripped off your cotton shirt, his supernatural strength ruining another mundane piece of clothing just as he was ready to ruin you into oblivion.

Your tight peaks brushed against his chest before he held your valleys in his hands, kneading them ravenously, and curling the tension in your gut. You twitched into his touch, riding high against his thigh as he took control, burying yourself in the plush of his lips, and feeling his primal, ravenous instincts be what’s only left of his immortal body.

Seungcheol did not come up short at the sight. Coming from the neighborly laundromat after offering to wash your clothes of its filth, he equaled his footing as he engaged against your backside, slipping his hands through your pants as his nails, now sharp as daggers, scrapped against your thighs. “Having fun without me, I see.”

You barely placed his name until he stole you from the younger demon, rolling you to his side as his nails plunged into your flesh and struck an agonizing groan from your throat.

He chuckled lowly. “I’ll make sure to make up from lost time, my sweet.”

You heard Chan scoff from behind you, branding your lower back with his cock burning against you as his thighs held your ass to his crotch in an iron grip. “About time you caught up, old man.”

“Just wait till my name is the one that they’re screaming tonight, boy.”

You could never remember how you lose your clothes so quickly, rather you were much more intrigued by the passage each demon would take. There has always to be a not-so-friendly competition when it came to these two, no matter how long they’ve managed to coexist in this place. They seemed to have found a perfect medium in self-gratification and your pleasure, as long as either one had their turn and you were a willing prey. 

“Come on. You can do it. Just slide on top of me, pet.”

You took Chan’s gentle hand before climbing into his lap and hovering over his tip, swollen in impatience. A shattered breath took wind as you remained cautious as you always have, readily adjusting to the supernatural size as it invaded your vulnerable heat. His teeth collided with the back of your neck, his hands coming up from behind you and palming your tender breasts and caressing them as if they belonged to him, and perhaps in a way they did.

“That’s it,” he ushered, a hand lowering to pad over your clit, feeling the tender squeeze of your heat wrap about his shaft. 

Your hips moved naturally, arms stabilizing over the couch and Chan’s shoulders, while you let your desires take course as he thrust inside you. Your breasts swayed and bounced with the weight of gravity, having your lover’s lips then wrapping around a hard nipple, lapping the texture in heat. 

You felt weightless. Euphoric. You’ve lost count of the times sex had took place in this apartment with these two immortal beings alone, but you could never recount it the same way. It was always promisingly rhapsodical.

As Chan pierced you with every inch–grunting in your ear softly, but not struggling at all–Seungcheol took between your legs. His wide eyes were enflamed with the fire to destroy acres of land, while a smile graced his lips. His hand on either of Chan’s thighs, he leveraged up from the ground, eyes feasting on the force of the younger demon’s hips plunging in your cunt while your arousal dribbled down his peer’s thighs.

“Look at you, precious.” His hand glided between your thighs, mouth aching to gnaw on your plush flesh. His cock was a being of its own with how much it throbbed to be inside you. “It never cease to make me how you look…sound…smell with lust shooting up through your veins.”

He held your thighs against his hands, billowing you up and down towards Chan, and he glimpsed at the pulsating walls, locating your heartbeat and how it resided in your cunt just as much as it did in your chest. “Fucking brilliant.”

Seungcheol inched closer, devouring you with his other senses before then came his mouth, then came the flicker of his tongue, and finally his lower lips finding home in your pussy, not minding the cock already resided inside. His tongue traveled however it deemed fit and Chan didn’t mind, he rather relished in it.

Your curses melted into whimpers, pleasure masquerading as pleads, and your body molding to them like wet clay. Your mind seemed to wander with their heavy gaze as you expected to stare into space but instead, met eyes fiery just as either demon before you standing in the corner of the room. Curiously, you gazed at their stillness, slowly processing the familiar body it came with. 

Instead of frightening you or involuntarily tearing a scream from your throat, they somehow soothed you. It enthralled you that someone dared to watch and without a word leaving their lips.

Suddenly, the younger demon’s pace hasted. A sigh turned to a moan and you felt Chan buck his hips harder into you as his impish chuckles tickled your cheeks. “I love this pussy so fucking much.” His fingers spread your lips apart, feeling the viscous arousal form on his fingerprints and between crevices. “Aren’t I lucky?”

Your torso would’ve fallen over if not for Chan’s steady grip. Your eyes would not stray from the intruder—no matter how tense—realizing without his usual spectacles his eyes burned louder than you’ve ever seen. His smile was devastating, posture domineering. It was then you realized, you weren’t just a show. You were a showcase.

You almost whispered his name, drifting towards his silent beckon, but the demons held you down, bringing you to completion and your eyes forced shut. You tugged from the root of Seungcheol’s head and you lost yourself in the explosion that was your release. Chan’s lips broke from your skin reluctantly, easing his pace to the rhythms of your breaths. “Fuck, I can feel your cum. Try to warn a demon, will you?”

Seungcheol further buried himself between your legs, striking your inner thighs, and moaning into your heat, “Don’t you stop, boy. I need to tap more of their syrup.”

“Fuck,” Chan whimpered feeling the older demon tongue glide against his shaft while inside you, brushing harsh stripes along his pulsating thick veins, and for once he doesn’t argue, thrusting in you at top speed as Seungcheol’s full muscle collected your release.

Now Chan felt as if he’s the one to break lose out of control. His teeth plunge in your neck, canines breaking skin, and your voice gave out as you feel billions of his droplets shoot into you like a rapid stream. Your eyes fluttered as you twitched in his clutch, tears pouring out of your eye sockets, your cum mixing with Chan’s, and you’re stripped from signs of life besides a beating heart.

“Now it’s time to join your brethren, young demon.”

His voice boomed, bouncing off every wall and stunning both Chan and Seuncheol in spots. Fear reigned Seungcheol’s features as it did Chan’s and if you were mentally well enough, you’d notice the sweat pilling their skin not from fatigue, but from horror.

“M-my lord.” Seungcheol stammered, dropping your body against Chan and turning to the sound of the devil, recognizing him immediately as the devil’s eyes pierced and burned through his entire body. “How…” He swallowed as if doing away with his betrayal, but knowing its ineffectiveness. “We didn’t mean to–”

“Silence,” Wonwoo commanded.

Chan’s lips quivered, tears running down his cheeks, paralyzed as you laid limp on his body. “We were going to come back.” 

“As you were instructed to months prior to your quest on the Earth’s crust? Don’t filth your mouth of lies any more than you already have, vile creature.”

“What’s happening?” You breached while in recovery. 

Seungcheol then kneeled at Wonwoo’s feet, his naked body taut in respect, forcing his gaze to the ground. “We accept your punishment in all forms. We are ashamed of our actions and deserve the utmost repercussions, but please, do not harm the human.”

The devil slowly approached, foot placed on the crown on the demon’s head before he displaced his weight, “Do not descend your face to the ground or I shall show you no mercy…This human. They mean a great deal to you both, yes?”

“Yes, my lord,” Seungcheol answered without hesitation, struggling under the weight of Wonwoo’s foot.

“Y-yes, lord,” Chan softly cried.

Wonwoo’s smile curled, an arrogant breath expelling through his nose at his laughed curtly. He took his booted foot off of the demon’s head and instead claimed his hair, pulling up his features into view and seeing determination and defiance wrinkle his skin. “You’re foolish. You don’t deserve any ounce of immortality that you were gifted.”

Seungcheol’s head was shoved away, and relief bellowed in his chest from coming out unscathed, huffing air as if it was scarce before his chest tightened. “Does that mean the human will be left free?”

“...No,” Wonwoo strode until facing you in Chan’s arm, the younger demon softly grasped your body, unwilling to let go. “I have a…peculiar matter I would rather tend to. Now, young demon. Join your brethren.”

Chan shook his head furiously. “Promise they’ll be safe from your wrath, lord. I will follow you until the depths of the Earth, suffer every lashing, and scar you may dealt me. Please, let the human be free from your cruelty.”

“Let me finish. Join your brethren on the ground and place the human back delicately on this new furnishing you’ve already defiled.”

Chan shut his eyes with remorse and did as the devil asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek as his body followed to the space occupying his fellow demon, awaiting punishment.

Wonwoo huffed, feeling his power surging through him. “Now feast.”

Both demons gazed upon their lord of the underworld in confusion, but he only repeated himself. “Feast. Do as Seungcheol has done together. My judgment will be halted until then.”

“Feast on the human?” Chan blinked. “In order to…sacrifice them?”

“No. To enjoy them. I’m letting you both finish what was started. Do not disappoint me. Do I make myself clear?”

Their heads bowed in gratitude, mouths dropped slack in disbelief and hunger. They nodded their heads, muttering gratitude before reuniting with you at your feet. Seungcheol propped you tenderly against the couch and carefully parted your legs. “Let’s cherish these moments, precious. We don’t know if it’ll be the last.”

Your eyes fluttered softly. Having observed everything, you’re still confused, but your brain has melted from the intimacy. You didn’t think about properly processing his words, simply living in the moment. 

Seungcheol took your left side as Chan took your right. The demon’s eyes met in comraderie, nodding before inhaling your scent for what they believed is the final time. Their tongues tangled with one another, both either plunging inside you or running against you. You bucked up your hips at the sensation, lips parting in ache as you felt their warmth stimulate you and you feel the tension in your stomach coiling tighter as one sucked against your clit.

“So, mmh…good.”

“Fuck, I really do love this pussy so much,” Chan whined sucking against your sopping folds.

Seungcheol moaned around your clit, the vibrations running up your body and pebbling your skin. “I don’t ever want to stop…”

Caught in the highs, Seungcheol's fingers ran through Chan’s hair and pressed him deeper between your legs, hoping to find gratification in a form of your voice regaining power. He tenderly massaged Chan’s scalp, gently stroking his locks, thinking to himself, if he were to share you, it had to be done right, and his tongue darted lower to double pierce through your cunt.

“Oh, god…” You clawed against the leather. “Don’t…stop…”

Their arms wrapped around your thighs tightly, fueled by your unquenchable arousal, their tongues collaborating in you to taste every warm inch inside and out. All the sweat, moisture–all the cum either yours or Chan’s–the demon enslaved on it, worshiped it, cherished it with every fiber of their dark empty pits that replaced their souls. There was never enough and they weren’t for a second complaining.

“Spit on it, Seungcheol,” Wonwoo said, “Spit on their wet cunt.”

The demons paused and Seungcheol did just as told, spitting a fat load of saliva on the center of your core, to which you winced in surprise despite the warning.

“Push it in them, Chan.” And Chan obeyed, his tongue targeting the fluid and pushing inside you in practiced thrusts, glistening eyes staring back at you with tear-stained flushed cheeks.

“Repeat.”

They started alternating, Seungcheol spitting inside you to allow Chan to fuck it back in you. It was unreal, more reward than divine punishment and you clenched around the tongue. Then there were both tongues in your holes again as your thighs parted like two unhappy lovers, their mouths made love to them over and over, fingers pounding in you as perfect tools before you spilled cum in their mouths for more than the nth time. There seemed to be no end.

If one demon were more selfish, they’d collect more than the other, and if one were to fight back, they’d collect directly from the other's mouth. Chan often found himself to be the former, being caught fueding with Seungcheol in fits of passionate lip lock for fair distribution. They were so cum drunk neither cared who won because they always went back for more: your cunt and each other.

“Selfish demons. Neither one of you has taken a moment to breathe. Just how insatiable, are you?” 

Wonwoo stood closely behind the males, taking a more observant authoritative approach, knowing his words don’t hold the power they’re used to when incubi feed on their perfect prey. Still, he grinned smugly at the sight. His eyes met yours, finding you staring back at him, seeing more questions in your eyes than answers, massively clouded by the raging ache of your body being undone at the hands of the demons. “I hope you’re enjoying the gift, darling, you look pretty getting eaten up.”

“Wonwoo…how—oh…” 

Seungcheol’s free hand instinctively reached for your breasts, teasing your nipples and rolling them between the pads of his fingers. “Be careful speaking, sweet…he’s not not an average human or demon.”

“Demon?”

“He’s right,” Wonwoo say, knees dipping into the couch next to you.Your eyes followed his movement, seeing how his shirt was slowly cascading off his body with every button unlatched. “I am not something you simply speak in a passing moment. I hold more power than anyone in this room, but you’re getting to know that. I have forgiven you.”

He parted your hair from over your face and cupped your cheek, red eyes burning back at you as they ran over your face. Although he’s almighty and powerful, his touches were gentle and smile deceivingly kind, calling you toward him like ships to a lighthouse.

“I always wonder what this face would look ruined inside and out.” Wonwoo gripped your chin and forced you to face him, “It’s fascinating seeing a face like this construe into something so sinful, yet satisfying.”

His lips claimed yours hungrily and you could taste rage, power, and a tongue shaped like no other. It had girth, abnormal length, and was split at the center, each end slithering through the inside of either of your cheeks. 

It was then you realized it was a forked tongue. One unlike any done artificially. The pieces finally came together. You were tongue wrestling with the devil and you enjoyed it. He moaned against your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “You’re so damn sweet, it’s infuriating. It’s no wonder these demons are weak to you, so weak to this pussy and these lips.”

He reunited with your lips, exploring you deeper as his hand wrapped around the stands of your hair and gripped, and you swallowed his grunts, while his tongue flickered at the back of your throat. “How many times have you released in their presence? A hundred? A thousand? A million? It’s never enough for you either, is it?”

You shook your head weakly, eyes begging for more as you were already addicted, feeling him awaken something in you that can’t be sated.

“I’m an all immortal being, so I know. Just like I know you wonder what I look like beneath my clothes…what I taste like…how I’d fuck you.”

“Fuck,” Chan breathed into your pussy listening in, reaching down for his cock that’s doubled in size, stroking himself to the sounds of Wonwoo’s vulgar language. Seungcheol joined him, but he didn't stroke his own cock, he held Chan’s, and their gazes were brought together as their tongues shared residence inside your heat.

“You’re tantalizing, darling little human, and as you see it doesn’t go unnoticed. I say I see for myself the issue, learn ways to…Manage  it. Satisfy it. To put back in order the underworld.” He grinned. “You’ll do me honor? Yes?”

You had no reason to say no, physically unable to, fighting waves of an incoming orgasm, but you made a feeble attempt of a nod as he kissed you deeper, the forked tongue prying your mouth and intruding at the back of your throat once more, if not deeper. Your shaky hands went to claim him, your mind so willing to submit to whatever his desires are, and not caring of the consequences. This was your everest.

It took a snap of Wonwoo’s fingers to divert the situation and he’s the one between your legs now as either demon appeared on your left and right of the couch. Their parted lips glistened from the mess, clear signs of moisture trailing down their chins and Adam’s apples, awaiting the instruction of the devil, but eyes locked with you who gifted them such an exhilarating experience.

“Return these insatiable demons the favor and I see to it that I…study your inner workings, mortal. Do I make myself clear, boys?”

“Yes, lord,” they answered, sitting up on their knees and presenting their throbbing erections to your face. You grasped at their shafts, tongue darting out of your mouth and rub the tips of their cocks along your mouth before switching off from one another.

Seungcheol’s hips gently thrusted towards you at his turn, a hand running towards your chest to tease your breasts as the other teased his nipples, pinching them to feed his arousal. “Oh precious, don’t you look darling?”

Taking your other breast, Chan softly whimpered, feeling his cock slide against Seungcheol’s, watching your face contort trying to fill up on both. “Fuck, rub our cocks together like that. You dirty little thing.”

The demons moved closer towards each other, staring down at you in astonishment and you inhaled them both with pleasure. Meanwhile, Wonwoo made himself comfortable, revealing the devil body with muscles, spade tail, and thick horns to match. You caught a glimpse of the view between the crack of sandwiched men, reveling in his positively delicious full form, and ached to know how he planned to use you. 

“You look just as pretty eating as you are being eaten,” The devil kindly praised.

The tip of his tail feathered over your thighs before it flickered over your clit, seeing you respond weakly with twitching hips. He grabbed the base of his cock, growing in his palm before lining up to your slit, rubbing it against your swollen folds. The spade of his tail then slapped your clit, jerking your hips forward, and mouth sampling only just a sliver of his size. That’s when you thought to yourself you could cum right then and there, without hesitation as if you had been untouched for centuries. “So sensitive,” Wonwoo cooed, condensation on his tone.

He finally pushed inside you, stretching your walls unforgivingly, and hearing your moans muffled against the cocks in your mouth. Wonwoo bared his teeth, thrusting his cock and massaging your walls before his tail snapped at you again as it does every passing moment. And he absolutely melted at the effortless way your body responded.

You expelled a shallow breath before sucking the demon duo’s cocks harder–pushing them deeper–and fisting them in either hand, as Wonwoo’s presence grew inside you, pumping into you like an object meant to be used. And yet, it left a permanent smile of your face. 

“Shit, come over here, old man.” Chan retrieved Seungcheol by the hair before shoving his tongue down his throat, passionately exploring him and ensuring he did the same. You stared up at them. Their moans were uncontainable, their lip moving in sloppily in raw, primal need—only bourgeoning your intense fixation—and your hips flicked back at Wonwoo as they continued to worship you all the while they started worshiping each other.

Chan teased Seungcheol’s nipples and Seungchcheol traced over Chan’s abdomen, both thrusting deeper in your mouth until they hit the back of your throat. They reeked of hunger and bliss, tongues buzzing against one another, and the only thing between them was you and their inseverable heat.

You winched as they stretched your mouth before you winched at Wonwoo’s size, having never felt so full in your life. It’s a symphony of sin and desire with no end, just as Wonwoo anticipated and he showed you no mercy as he took advantage. His hips snapped back at you like a whip, finding the spot burning the most fire and abusing the sensitivity over and over. Your legs were practically handlebars for his rage, taking out on you his frustration and impatience, plummeting his thrusts slick and thorough, practically jewels deep inside you.

If your mouth was free you’d ask for more but you didn’t need to as Wonwoo jackhammered into you, sensing your cum about to erupt around him. He scoffed, tightening his grip on your thighs. “That’s it, cum, you wretched little mortal.”

His eyes shut in pleasure, feeling you cum around to him in bursts while he was close. It was until he felt your dam burst in final flood reaching from your thighs to the vinyl floor that he pulled out without his climax, a layer of your cum coating his entire shaft and dripping off the head. His gaze ascended to the demons in passionate exchange, halting them with a single word. “Chan.”

The demon broke their bond, separating in a translucent string of saliva. His gaze averted to Wonwoo, noticing the shifting eyes of his superior and he bent over, taking his cock in his mouth. His mouth runs over Wonwoo’s explicitly loud, slurping necessary as he inhaled his entire shaft in one gulp and tasting you on him. “Tastes…perfect…lord.”

Wonwoo gently guided Chan by the back of his hair, brimming in delight as the demon boy vibrated around him, sucking and licking him clean Wonwoo of both your cum and lingerance of his. The young demon’s interest was palpable as he gazed at the devil with not only a sense of respect and fear, but a wordless lust untold in his round, glistening eyes. His hips–full and strong–gave into his aches, jerking into nothing but the ground as his cock swelled.

“S-shit,” Your voice gave out, marveling at Chan’s obscenity and growing envious as you desired to fit Wonwoo’s cock in your mouth. You fell to your knees, crawling over in a primal state to occupy the space beside Chan and taking a closer look, leaning into the demon’s vulnerable touch as you laid your hand on his waist.

“Don’t be shy, little one. Take it. Take my cock in your mouth.”

Chan aided you. Resting his hand on your cool shoulders, he raked through your hair, guiding your mouth over Wonwoo’s cock, and watched as your lips wrapped around him, engulfing as much length as you can take. “That’s it. Seek his forgiveness and you’ll taste his cum, pet.”

Chan’s lips brushed against your neck, exploring your skin and he tugged Seungcheol’s arm to do the same. You were at the mercy of the devil as the demons were at the mercy of you, kneading your flesh and memorizing the lines and curves of your body, tightly holding you in place. 

You could feel the tension build running your tongue flat up his shaft and his tail’s tip tenderly brushed over the curve of your cheek. His eyes shifted dramatically as he gritted his teeth, hips taking your mouth at anxiously fast pace, and he threw back his head before his tail wrapped around your neck and tugged you closer. You winced when you realized the spade was as sharp as a blade, feeling it slice a sliver of skin against your neck. Neither you or Wonwoo paid it mind as Chan has already gone and licked the wound too, serving this whole ordeal more delicious than painful.

Wonwoo may have been the devil, but he was starting to explode like any other human or demon when it came to his climax and you took him deeper in your efforts, cheeks hurting and eyes watering from the pain knowing that the pleasure would outweigh it. Yet, there was more surface area you haven’t covered, and with that you can’t help but feel a bit of shame. You were still human yourself.

“Take his cum, precious…”

“Let him ruin your mouth, pet.”

“He’ll fuck his cum back in your mouth and it all be better.”

“You won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.”

Finally, Wonwoo could control his strength no longer and his hot load pushed in your mouth and down your throat, seeping past your lips as it streamed down your chin. Chan’s tongue licked the cum’s trail: off your lips, your chin, your neck, while Seungcheol stole it from your mouth, scrapping Wonwoo’s reminisce in every crevice of your mouth with his tongue, even what’s down your throat.

“Wasn’t that pleasurable? Very well. Now. The punishment.”

[yourdoorisunlocked]

Something Unexpected - Lucifer Headcanons

𝐀/𝐍: A fluffy bulleted fanfic in the form of bulleted points and a dash of headcanons, featuring the apple daddy of hell himself, Lucifer ;)

This is mostly me simping for the short, awkward duck-loving lil guy, and also experimenting with writing for his character.

Anyways, enjoy!

. . .

🎪 When you met Lucifer, you were honestly shell-shocked. He was so... whimsical, and captivating, maybe a bit awkward, and with his ringleader getup, it made him look equally as silly as he seemed. He just... wasn't whom you were expecting at all.

🎪 "Charlie... That's your dad!?"

🎪 "Well... Yeah? Why do you sound so surprised?"

🎪 "Look at him!" He didn't seem anything like the Lucifer you'd heard stories of from your parents, who tried to scare you away from debauchery and sin with their over-exaggerated tales from their biblical teachings.

🎪 They didn't exactly pay off, clearly.

🎪 But this? This was absolutely not who you thought you had to protect Charlie from.

🎪 You were the 'mom' of the Hazbin Crew, always looking out for everyone, and earning yourself a soft, irreplaceable spot in their hearts. And you clearly had a soft spot for Charlie, and that set off many initial alarm bells for Lucifer.

🎪 He didn't want to have another Alastor on his hands.

🎪 Lucifer cornered you about this, of course, and you were still grappling with the fact that he wasn't how you thought he was going to be at all.

🎪 And you turned out to be just as unexpected...

🎪 “I’m just worried about her… She has such a big heart, and I just don’t want her to get hurt. I should know what it’s like to be taken advantage of by people I put my trust and love into."

🎪 Though he is slightly curious about that, he decides that perhaps it'd be nice to have someone checking up on Charlie from time to time, and there is no way he's encouraging Alastor's presence anywhere near her.

🎪 You also found his love and overprotectiveness for his daughter quite endearing, although it was insufferable to watch them be so awkward around each other in the beginning.

🎪 So, you agreed to watch over Charlie for Lucifer, making sure to encourage her dreams in his stead. For Charlie's happiness, and because, well, why would you say no? You were already looking after her before.

🎪 As soon as Lucifer leaves, Charlie is bounding up to you with a wide smile, taking your hands in hers and bouncing up and down on the carpeted floors, so hard she's making indents with her hooves.

🎪 "Oh, isn't it great!? He believes in me! Me! I thought that after, well everything that happened with Mom, that he'd..." her eyes grow sullen as the mention of her mother sours her mood, and you brush a hand against her cheek with a gentle, reassuring smile.

🎪 "I have a feeling he always has, Charlie. He just never knew how to say it. And sometimes, when a parent sees themselves in their own children, it... Terrifies them." You turn to an apple-paned window with a melancholic gaze.

🎪 "He's just trying his hardest for you because he doesn't want to see you fall like he did. You can't fall farther than Hell, but if you try..." you trail off, and your implication held heavy in the air.

🎪 "But he loves you, and I know that his pride for you knows no bounds, and nor does his worry, Charlie." The demoness brightens at your words, practically tearing up as she grips your midsection in a hug. "Thank you," she whispers, and you ruffle her pale blonde hair with a fond smile.

🎪 Little did you know, Lucifer had been silently stalking watching the both of you from afar, and he leaves that evening with a heavy weight lifted from his shoulders.

🎪 As he continues to visit the hotel, he checks in with you for a moment upon the establishment's progress, Charlie, and casual conversation in general.

🎪 As more time passes, and Lucifer makes more and more frequent visits to the hotel - much to Alastor’s chagrin - after spending some precious time in his daughter's company, he'll ask around for your whereabouts.

🎪 You'll both naturally fall into more casual conversation outside of the hotel's progress, and you soon realize that there was more beneath the surface of Hell's estranged ruler.

🎪 Lucifer was captivating, alluring in every form of the word. A creative, inspiring soul who once held dreams and aspirations, and now, the fire that once burned within him was passed onto his daughter.

🎪 And you could see his desperation to keep that flame inside of Charlie alight.

🎪 Lucifer slowly grows fond of your company, giving you little sculptures of ducks, and spending near hours raving about his little creations with you.

🎪 In a haze of his sleep-deprived subconscious, he even made a little duckie for you, complete with all of your defining features that he found the most attractive prominent.

🎪 It ended up being his personal comfort/therapy duck until you found it, and putting together the resemblance, teased him about it slightly, to which he kept stubbornly denying it.

🎪 "Okay, but you have to admit, it's clear where you got your inspiration from," you held the duckie up to your face, noting just how precise Lucifer was when making it. Huh, he really hit the mark with this one.

🎪 The king of Hell turned on his heel, his jacket and hat discarded to the side, and leaving him in his striped circus-patterned dress shirt and ivory slacks.

🎪 "I don't know what you're talking about," Lucifer bent over his desk, trying to look like he was actually doing something, but his heart and mind were going a mile a minute. Damn his adorable hyperfixations!

🎪 "Maybe it was just coincidence! I don't know, sometimes I get inspired by things that I..." he glanced at you as you raised an eyebrow at him, and the small red circles plastered against his moonlight-stricken skin glowed a bright red.

🎪 "J-Just coincidence. Uh-huh, that's right..." he wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince you, or himself with that one.

🎪 Oh, yeah, you totally bought that bullshit.

🎪 "Well, for what it's worth, you did a pretty good job. This is your best one, yet!" You beam at him and tuck the small duck figure under your arm.

🎪 "So... can I keep it? Pretty please?"

🎪 Lucifer shoves some papers and blueprints off of his desk, completely focused on his work instead of how beautiful your smile was. "No."

🎪 After that, he creates a little duck of himself to keep beside the one in your likeness upon his desk whenever you aren't around. He inches them closer together every now and then or whenever he gets nervous or jittery.

🎪 Slowly but surely, Lucifer began to fall. And he is terrified of it. He's starting to yearn for your company, visit the hotel simply to seek you out, and this familiar thudding feeling is giving him a headache that can't be soothed by the fizzling warmth of alcohol.

🎪 Charlie begins to notice her father's strange behavior, and how it happens particularly around you...

🎪 Of course, the eccentric princess puts it all together, and she tries to keep it a secret, she really does, but the fact that her dad could actually be falling in love with one of her closest friends, and that he might finally be able to move on from her mother makes her heart overflow with a plethora of emotions.

🎪 The poor girl ends up spilling the details of your rom-com of a love life to Vaggie while hugging a pillow, crying joyful tears as her girlfriend chuckles and simply kisses her forehead with a small smile.

🎪 "Don't worry, hon. I'm sure it'll all be fine in the end. Just sleep it off, okay? And don't, I mean DON'T get involved in their love life, alright? Your dad needs some time to figure this out on his own."

🎪 "But I really want to help them! I know she likes him back; I just know it! And besides, he'll never confess on his own-!"

🎪 "It'll all be solved later, don't worry, Charlie. Besides, we can't just drop everything for this, can we? The hotel still needs our help,"

🎪 "Their love needs our help," Vaggie raised an expectant eyebrow, and Charlie receded with a pout. "But I guess it could wait..."

🎪 "Attagirl."

🎪 Meanwhile, as you toss and turn in your own bed, a deep fondness for the king that ran deeper than you would like to admit blossomed in your heart and was beginning to see the first rays of radiant sunlight that just so happened to be your unconditional adoration for the king of Hell.

🎪 Lucifer could make you laugh, smile, and gasp with a wonderment that you hadn't ever felt before, and your heart began to ache for more. More of his presence, and his whimsical, goofy nature that time had taught you to relish and look forward to.

🎪 All you could do was sleep, close your eyes and hope that these feelings would stamp themselves out soon.

🎪 But all of that proved to be futile as you woke with a start in the middle of the night, the hazy visions of clipped wings, magnificent and radiant in all their seldom glory, remained fresh in your mind.

🎪 The glow of a shiny red apple faded from your vision, as you clenched your arms and buried your face into your pillow.

🎪 You were in for a long night...

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This was... surprisingly really fun and cute to write! I'll definitely be continuing this, since I really want to flesh it out more

Once again, please, PLEASE use the taglist for my sake 😭🙏 it can get sort of overwhelming when I can't remember certain usernames and tag them, and it's just to make things easier for me.

Oh and Lucifer's aesthetic is circuscore, of course. Underrated aesthetic frfr 🎪💫🍎

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer2024, @prosciuttosblog, @frog-fans-unite, @mysterypotatoink, @burgerflipper72, @chibikochannumberone, @strawberry-gothic, @roboticsuccubus83, @lulurubberduckie

[jo-writes-fanfic]

Love & Mischief

Loki x Female!Reader

Rating: M (Mature)

Warnings: There's nothing explicit, some allusions to sex, probably language, violence, and heavy descriptions of grief and loss, although there is somewhat of a happy ending.

Word count: About 2.9k

Synopsis: You're Asgard's goddess of love and loyalty, but you've lost your god of mischief, how do you move forward?

Author’s note: This is set in Thor Love and Thunder. Also if you've ever seen the last scene of the show Reign, it has an inspiration in this fic too. I've had a lot of grief and loss in my life lately and this felt very therapeutic to write. I've tried writing for Loki a couple of times but always chickened out, so I really hope y'all enjoy this and hopefully there will be more to come!

I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

“And what are you the goddess of?” 

The words resounded in your head again and again and again.

When Hela said those words to you, years ago, you had fired back, so sure of yourself and your role in Asgard, your role in your life, your role in his life. 

But now…

What was a goddess of loyalty and love who no longer had love? Who no longer believed in such things as fate and security in love? 

Your powers should have died when he did. 

It was an odd pairing to many, you knew. But it worked perfectly, your strengths and weaknesses worked in tandem and created a love worth fighting for. 

But the fight was gone. 

The god of mischief (and betrayal- some would argue) and the goddess of loyalty and love were a match made in Valhalla. 

Until he was gone, ripped from you so violently that you still woke up screaming from nightmares regularly. 

You sat next to your king in New Asgard during another security council meeting. 

You were completely zoned out, thinking of bright blue-green eyes, dark curls, and a blade-thin smile. Valkyrie nudged you. “Hey, tone it down, you're bumming out the whole room,” she whispered. 

You sighed and blinked out of your reverie, and finally noticed that the mood of the room, despite the recent good news that had been received (you can’t remember what it was - honestly, you forgot to pay attention, these meetings were very dull and tended to drone on) was altogether glum. 

“Sorry,” you whispered back and reigned your mood in. 

Normally, your powers were extremely helpful; tightening the bonds of loyalty in those around you, increasing love in both romantic and familial bonds, reading others moods - often influencing them, and sometimes even manipulating loyalties. But currently, drowning in grief as you had been the past several years, your powers were more of a burden than anything. 

The heaviness in the room instantly lightened, and the conversation flowed in a more productive direction once more. 

“We need to talk about these moods of yours,” Val said once she was satisfied that the meeting was going better. 

“No thanks,” you grumbled, and promptly zoned out once more. You really preferred it when Thor was also a mess, before he got his shit together, and you weren’t the only one that hadn’t moved on from the repercussions of the war with Thanos. But you know what they say, misery loves company. And back then, no one nagged you as much to get your shit together. 

“A little help here?” the king asked you, irritation in her tone. 

Another disagreement had broken out, this time a fist fight. Honestly, you found it amusing and were inclined to let it go on for a while, but when Val glared at you, you stood up and clapped once. 

Everyone stopped their movements immediately and looked up at you. 

“Enough,” you said sternly. “Asgard, though we may have differing opinions, we all fight for the same thing, the prospering of New Asgard. Remember that,” you ordered, infusing the room with compliance, reminding them of their bonds of loyalty. 

Everyone looked sheepish and sat back down. 

You flourished a hand to Val and said, “My king,” giving her the floor. 

She gave them all a rousing speech, it was honestly quite good, some of her best work, and then ended the dreadful meeting early, much to your relief. 

“Good job, boss. Well, I’m off-” 

“Not so fast,” she said as she caught your arm. 

You sighed once again. 

“Do we need to talk about this? About Lo-” 

“Don’t say his name,” you hissed and the tension in the room raised significantly as your anger and grief filled the space, making the large room feel claustrophobic.  

She sighed and took your hand. 

“Look, I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through and what you’ve lost. We can all feel it from time to time and I know it’s an incredibly heavy burden. I’m just concerned for you and want to help you,” she said. 

With tears in your eyes, you nodded. 

“I’m concerned about me too,” you mumbled. 

“What can I do to help? Tell me.  Anything,” she practically begged. 

“Nothing, unless you can drag him back from Valhalla,” you muttered and brushed past her. 

And life continued to trudge forward. As a goddess, never had such a short amount of years felt so long, an eternity really. 

You felt as if you were stuck in a time loop and every day was close to the same. 

You woke up and for a split second forgot he was gone and reached across your bed to find it cold. Then, a wave of grief hit you that was so heavy, each and every time, that you forgot how to breathe. 

Eventually you forced yourself out of bed, shoved some food in your mouth as you rushed out the door and met Valkyrie for early morning training. Then you usually sat by the sea and stared as the sun rose in the sky, thinking of him but trying so hard not to. And again, you forced yourself on. 

You completed your daily tasks as the King’s right hand goddess; meetings, meetings, and more meetings usually. Most nights you sat at the bar, watched Valkyrie drink an ungodly amount, then when you got bored enough you walked through New Asgard. 

You walked and walked, thinking if you moved enough, if you stayed ahead of your sadness, maybe it wouldn’t catch you in the morning. 

It always did. 

Rinse and repeat. 

There were differences of course, sometimes, you had to leave New Asgard to do the whole ambassador thing. Occasionally Thor came to visit and brought along his various cohorts and problems.  

Today was one of those days. You were improving in your hand to hand combat skills, according to your King, through your daily rigorous training sessions, which pleased you since you spent most days feeling like you wanted to fight the whole nine realms. And then, following your routine, you sat on the cliffside and stared at the sea. 

You never even got to give him a proper funeral, you thought, which then made you think of Frigga and the beautiful funeral service for her that you had watched through tears. 

A voice called your name, you looked back and for a moment, a blink and you miss it moment, you saw him. A flash of green-blue eyes and inky black hair, your heart skipped a beat and the vision was gone. 

You shook your head in an attempt to clear it, honestly these flashes of him you’ve been having lately should be concerning, but instead you clung to them, desperate for any connection to him that you could get. 

Although the true sight before you was one that made you smile, as Thor came up and wrapped you in a bear hug. 

You wheezed and when he finally put you down he chuckled heartily. 

“How are you?” he asked and you gave him a look like he should know the answer to that question. 

“Well I have something that should cheer you right up,” he said as he steered you back towards the town. 

“Does it involve needing my help to fight another dangerous life-threatening bad guy?” you asked wryly. 

“Perhaps….” he said. 

You huffed a laugh and said, “I’m in.” 

The threat you were fighting turned out to be a whole lot more dangerous and life-threatening than you anticipated. 

Which is how you found yourself on a ship with Thor, Jane, Valkyrie, and Korg on an unfortunate adventure to confront the God Butcher. 

Watching Thor and Jane fall back in love was not doing much for your mood. Val handed you another drink and you downed it. 

“Hey, hey, you’re totally bringing down the vibe, mate. This is supposed to be about love,” Korg said to you. You huffed and rolled your eyes. 

You made an effort to lessen the dark cloud you’d brought on the ship. 

“Do you think you’ll ever find love again?” Val asked you, after she confessed that she’d avoided any serious relationships for decades. 

“No,” you said, like it was final. 

“Really?” Korg asked. “Shouldn’t the goddess of love fall in love easily?” 

You shot him a glare. 

“I love. I love a great many people. But true love, like soulmates and shit, that only comes once in a lifetime. And after you’ve had it, you’re pretty much ruined for anything less. So no, I don’t think I’ll ever truly find love again,” you said with a sigh. 

“Heavy,” he replied and you cracked up. 

You laughed so hard you snorted, and at first your friends looked at you in shock, then joined you in laughter, and the room filled with love once again, the love of friendship, and you realized you’ve been overlooking the amount of love you actually had in your life due to your grief. 

You grabbed Val’s hand and patted Korg’s disembodied head, and watched Thor and Jane reignite their flame of love. 

“I love you all and am grateful for all the support you’ve given me,” you said. 

“No final confessions,” Valkyrie said, “this is not the end for any of us.” 

You nodded and then the ship reached its destination. The shadow realm yawned open in front of your vision and you gulped. 

You had this horrible feeling, like dread, in the pit of your stomach, and you saw him again. That flash you’ve seen so many times recently, but more and more frequently since this misadventure started and that dread molted in your stomach into resolve. 

You were certain and you were ready. 

Of course the plan went immediately sideways. You crossed swords with Gorr the God Butcher and your heart threatened to pound out of your chest. 

Yes, your sword fighting skills had improved, but not enough to be a good match for a seasoned warrior and god killer. 

“What are you the Goddess of? Are you even worth my sword?” he growled out. 

You gritted your teeth and went on the attack. Your rage filled the space as you dodged, slashed, and pushed him as hard as you could. 

You could hear your friends yelling, but you couldn’t lose your focus even for a moment as he pushed back and fought with skill beyond your own. 

And you realized you’d been doing this all wrong. You were fighting without your biggest asset, your own natural gifts and abilities. The powers that made you a goddess of Asgard. 

He didn’t notice your impact on his mood because your rage didn’t even touch the deep well of his own, he didn’t feel your rage due to the mountain that was his own. 

No, rage wouldn’t work, you thought, and as your swords crossed again you used your other hand to grab his. 

Your power was more potent when you were skin to skin.

You poured love and loyalty into your enemy, thinking only of happiness and good memories, trying to lessen his rage. Trying to decrease his fight, hoping to convince him to put down his sword. 

Your breath caught into a gasp as his emotions infected your own. His love and loyalty were intertwined with an ocean of grief. Just like your own. 

And you were drowning. 

His emotions, his rage at the injustice and unfairness and unending sadness felt so close to your own emotions that you were thrown back into a memory. 

Your worst memory, actually, the day you lost him for good. And you knew your enemy was in his worst memory as well. The origin of his grief. 

Just like you watched the origin of your grief as it unfolded in front of you once more. The reason for your nightmares, the reason you woke up screaming, you stepped back and gasped as the memory overcame you. 

And Gorr did the same. 

You think the sound might be the worst part. Loki’s choking. Or maybe it was the snapping sound, like a branch, a snap that ended everything for him. And for you. 

And then there’s the sight. You couldn’t even describe it, it was too awful to explain. You’ve never spoken about it, even in the therapy sessions your King forced you to attend. 

He thudded to the ground and you gasped as the vision cleared. 

You were drowning in your own grief and it was clear Gorr was more accustomed to drowning than you. 

He recovered one second quicker, and your battlefield reflexes were not quite up to par. 

You slashed your sword up but all it did was clang against his where it was embedded in your stomach. 

All the air whooshed from your lungs. 

“You are not a god that deserves death, are you?” he said as he cocked his head. “But you lost faith in yourself, in what you stand for.” 

You weren’t even sure you felt the pain. Maybe the shock inhibited your ability to feel any pain. You’d been injured before, sure, but you always felt the sharpness of it. But of course you’ve never been hurt this severely. 

You tried to speak, but it came out as a groan. 

“I am sorry,” he said and slowly slid the sword from your abdomen and you fell to your knees. Blood gushed and you saw that flash again. 

“Beautiful,” you mumbled as you saw the flash of a wry smirk, eyes full of love, and a hand outstretched towards you. Beckoning you. 

Finally, you thought. 

The last thing you heard was Thor roaring and your king calling your name as she caught you before your body hit the ground. 

There was darkness, utter darkness, and then a solid weight beneath you. 

You realized you were laying down. You were laying on the most comfortable bed you’d ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. 

Sleeping? Are you sleeping? Wasn’t there something…something painful? You couldn’t remember. 

You blinked your eyes open and let out all the air in your lungs. 

Your eyes filled with tears, this time happy tears. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you cried happy tears. 

Loki laid beside you, close enough for you to touch, staring at you with such love in his eyes that tears spilled down your cheeks. 

“Oh,” you gasped. 

He reached out and cupped your cheek, wiping the tears away. 

You sobbed, and he shushed you even as he pulled you closer. You buried your face in his bare chest and he crushed you against him, so tight, tight enough that you were sure he would never let you go again. 

He ran his hand up and down your back, and with a start you realized you were void of clothes as well. 

You awoke in the afterlife just as you would have every day of the best years of your life with him; naked in his bed after a night of making love with adoration in his eyes as he watched you sleep. 

You took a shuddering breath and pulled back to look at him in the eyes once more, your hands never leaving his body, you ran them up his chest, across his face, twirled your fingers in his hair. 

“This is Valhalla, isn’t it?” you asked. 

“Yes, my love,” he said, and kissed the fresh tears on your cheeks away. 

Then he kissed your lips. It was a delicate thing at first, but then it molted and grew until it felt exactly like it used to. The kiss cemented you to him, secured you right where you should be, where he had been waiting for you. 

And all of the pain you experienced before that kiss didn’t even matter anymore. Because you loved him and he loved you, and that’s all. 

His lips moved against yours and your tears mixed with his and it was perfect. You loved him, that’s all. 

You weren’t angry at him for dying and leaving you alone. You weren’t drowning in heavy emotions anymore. You held no grudges or hard feelings over anyone or anything anymore, not now that you were in the arms of your greatest love once more. 

“It’s been so long,” you gasped out when he pulled back and smiled. 

“I know,” he said with a small smile. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. 

“I am as well,” he replied, simply and sweetly. 

You felt light as a feather. You felt released from your pain and anguish. You were with him again, and that’s all that mattered. 

“Isn’t the introduction to Valhalla traditionally supposed to be much different?” you asked. 

He smirked and mischief twinkled in his eyes, “It is possible I managed to bend some rules for you.” 

You huffed a laugh and pulled him into another kiss. One that could’ve lasted seconds or could’ve lasted a lifetime. It didn’t really matter. You had eternity in the hall of warriors with your Loki, and you were secure knowing you died fighting for the ones you loved. 

“Would you like me to give you the grand tour?” he whispered in your ear as he pulled back from your lips and began kissing his way across your skin. 

“Maybe later,” you said as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him atop of you. 

“We have an eternity,” he promised and kissed you, slow and deep. 

Tagging those who showed interest in this fic (thanks for the support!) : @thespiralstaircasewriter @bellaisasleep @elly-hiddlesherloki @izhunny @drachenkinder @spacefloosie

[solarmorrigan]

For the fanfic mash-up prompt list, what about 2. Historical and 73. Stranded due to inclement weather?

Me, a history minor, upon reading this prompt: I've never learned anything about any period in history ever in my life

But! After drawing a blank for a while, we've got some vaguely Great Depression-era Steddie

Fanfiction Trope Mashup: 1. Historical AU + 73. Stranded Due to Inclement Weather

cw: brief assumed infidelity (not actually, though)

-

The drifter is handsome, beneath the smudges of road dust he’s picked up from traveling; his long hair is tied back from his face, revealing a soft mouth, high cheekbones, and eyes you could get lost in. He’s carrying a guitar on his back and not much else. He isn’t dressed nearly warm enough for the weather as it is, and certainly not for the snow that the heavy clouds above are threatening.

Steve already knows he’s going to invite him in.

“I don’t give handouts,” Steve says, mostly for himself, so he can pretend he isn’t a soft touch.

“I’m not asking for a handout,” the drifter says. “I’m more than happy to work for a meal.”

Steve pauses, like he’s thinking. There isn’t much left to the Harrington farm these days; they really only have the house, the barn, and enough land to keep some livestock – mostly chickens. (Robin loves the chickens; when they eat one, she makes sure they thank it by name, which Steve personally thinks is weird, but whatever helps her part more easily with them, he guesses.) The chores don’t take long, usually, but with Robin gone for the week, visiting her mother a few towns over, there are still a few things that need doing.

“Guess I could use a hand,” Steve says, and the drifter smiles at him, bright and dimpled, and Steve can practically hear Robin tutting at him – such a sucker for a pretty face.

At least the imaginary Robin in his head is easier to dismiss.

The drifter—“Eddie,” he introduces himself with a firm, calloused handshake—stores his guitar in the kitchen and gets to work helping Steve around the farm (such as it is). He doesn’t seem to have much familiarity with farmwork specifically, but he’s a hard worker and a good listener, and he slots in right alongside Steve with surprising ease.

He’s a bit of a talker – a storyteller, more like, spinning all kinds of yarns about his travels, half of which Steve is sure can’t be true, but which have him hooked anyway. Eddie seems to like him that way: his attention so focused on Eddie that he almost forgets what he’s doing several times throughout the day.

The hours fly by; the wind gets stronger, and you can almost taste the snow on it. Steve gives the animals one last check, makes sure everything is ready to weather a storm should it come, and then he and Eddie hurry inside the house. Steve cooks while Eddie washes up, and they eat sitting at the kitchen table like Steve and Robin usually do; there’s no one to impress by sitting in the overwrought dining room that had always intimidated Steve as a kid.

Snow is falling thick and fast by the time they finish eating.

“I’m not enough of a bastard to send you back out in that,” Steve says, twitching the curtains aside to look at the way little drifts have already started to collect against the fenceposts. “You’re welcome to stay, if you want.”

“Well, I’m not enough of an idiot to turn you down,” Eddie replies, sending Steve a sly grin. “Anything you want me to do around the house to earn a bed for the night?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he nods towards the living room. “Keep me company by the fire for a while?”

It’s a bit of a gamble – if Steve’s read Eddie wrong, this could end very badly, but Steve doesn’t think he has. He’s always been good at gauging a person’s interest, and he’s certain he’d caught Eddie’s eyes wandering more than once when he thought Steve wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie spends a long moment regarding Steve. “I’ll do you one better,” he finally says, and reaches for his guitar.

Eddie’s voice is rough and low, not always in key, but sincere and achingly soulful. He plays like he was born with a guitar in his hands, pulling music from it a hundred times better than anything Steve’s ever heard on the radio. If he’d been distracted by Eddie before, he’s absolutely enraptured now. He doesn’t even realize he’s been steadily drifting closer to him on the sofa until their knees are brushing.

“It’s getting late,” Eddie says, glancing towards the clock on the mantle. “Am I going to bunk in the barn?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable in the house.”

“Sure.” Eddie’s grin is slow-spreading as he watches Steve. “It’s pretty cozy down here by the fireplace. Sofa’s nice.”

“I could make you up a bed on the sofa.” Steve nods. “Or – there’s plenty of room in my bed, upstairs. Much cozier up there.”

Eddie’s grin is positively wolfish now. “You’d have me in your marriage bed?” he teases, and Steve shakes his head.

“My wife and I don’t share a bed,” he says (this is largely true, except when they have unavoidable overnight visitors, or when it’s very cold).

“No?” Eddie asks.

“We have an understanding,” Steve replies.

“Do you, now?” Eddie still looks like he isn’t quite sure whether to laugh or to eat Steve alive, but Steve only nods.

“She doesn’t mind if I have the occasional man around, and in return, I don’t mind if she has the occasional lady,” he explains softly. “And we keep each other safe.”

At that, Eddie’s grin softens, becomes warm, almost fond. “And who’s keeping you safe now? Inviting a complete stranger up into your bed." He shakes his head, still trying to tease. “I could be anybody. I could be a murderer, for all you know.”

“You aren’t,” Steve answers with full conviction.

The sincerity seems to give Eddie pause. “What makes you so sure?” he asks, and now he seems almost serious.

“Your eyes,” Steve says readily. “They��re too kind for you to be any kind of bad person.”

Those eyes go wide with surprise. “Well,” Eddie says slowly, “you’re one of the few people who thinks that.”

“Well, maybe other people need to pay more attention,” Steve says. “But if I’m wrong, and you do kill me, at least the last thing I see will be something beautiful.”

And that seems to do it. Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve, his lips chapped and warm against Steve’s.

“You might be the killer here, actually,” Eddie murmurs when they pull apart. “You’re gonna knock me dead with those lines, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Steve likes that.

“Better come upstairs with me and give me something else to think about, then,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t need to be told again.

The snow continues through the night and into the next day. Steve and Eddie go out first thing to check the animals, to make sure everything is holding against the wind and the snow, and then head back to bed, where they spend the remainder of the day. It seems unkind to send Eddie away in this weather, after all.

In fact, it’s still so cold by the time Robin comes back from her visit that Steve hasn’t yet had the heart to send Eddie away. And if he and Robin talk it over, and if Eddie is still around by the time the warm spring weather comes, and if Eddie just stays and stays, the only thing people in town ever really wonder about is how the Harringtons found the money to hire a hand for their tiny piece of land.

[maitanii]

ABOUT YOU | INUI SEISHU

an: i don’t know how to write fanfics of x reader, it’s not really my thing. but i had fun writing this. so enjoy <3 i listened a lot to the 1975 while i was writing this and i didn’t know what to put as a title. this is just me loving inui seishu.

cw: bonten timeline (this takes place in 2013) | Implicit sexual content | toxic relationship (not the main one) | alcohol consumption (both reader and Inui drink a beer)

wc: 6k

THURSDAY. SEPTEMBER 5TH. 2013. 

"I'm looking for a job."

"Thanks, but no."

"I’ve seen the sign you have at the entrance and the job offer on LinkedIn."

"No."

The young man's eyes never leave the car magazine he's leafing through disinterestedly throughout the entire conversation. A pen is gracefully held behind his ear, and a grease stain adorns his pale cheek.

"Can I at least talk to your boss?" You put your hands on your hips. The man lets out a deep sigh before forcefully closing the magazine's pages. He raises his gaze to meet your eyes and forces the most insincere smile he can muster. In his green pupils, there's nothing but annoyance.

"Of course."

With heavy movements, he takes two steps with his long legs and elegantly opens the flip phone on the counter. After a few moments of awkward silence, another phone rings in the room. You search for the object producing the sound. When the phone's beep stops, a toilet flushes. The small wooden door behind the counter swings wide open, revealing a massive figure zipping up his pants.

"Seishu, damn it, you don't even let me go to the bathroom," The blonde man laughs, sarcastic, before returning to his serious expression. "Sorry, boss." He shrugs, raising his thumb and pointing at your figure, standing in front of him. "This girl here says she's looking for a job."

You look the sturdy man up and down who stands before you. You swallow hard as you examine the tattoos that decorate the side of his head.

Draken raises an eyebrow, looking at Inui, who leans on his arms at the counter, amusedly watching the scene. The tall young man with the tattooed skull returns the girl's gaze before extending his hand.

"I'm Ryuguji Ken," shaking his hand back, you pronounce your own name. "So you're here for the job offer... Do you know anything about motorcycles?"

"Not exactly. My father was a big enthusiast. But I learn quickly and make good coffee."

Inui continues to look at you with a poker face. Did you really come to apply for a job at a motorcycle shop without knowing anything about the subject? What's next, studying international relations and trying to build a bridge?

"Oh, I see," Draken says, touching his chin with two fingers, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. "You're young, pretty, and you seem nice. You might attract some customers and be of help to us. You're hired. You start tomorrow."

"What?"

"Yes!" Your exclamation only emphasizes the vein that protrudes on the blonde man's pale forehead.

Inui looks at Draken in disbelief.

"How is she supposed to help in the workshop if she knows nothing about motorcycles, Draken?"

"I put up the sign at the entrance because I needed someone at the counter, not to have another mechanic," Seishu tightens his lips and closes his eyelids. "Besides, if she needs help, you're always here in case something comes up, Inupi. It'll do you good to have some company to improve your social skills."

The tension in the room thickens as Inui grudgingly accepts Draken's decision, though he remains skeptical about the new addition to their team. With a deep sigh, he shifts his attention back to the tools in his toolbox, muttering something under his breath.

On the other hand, you do your best to conceal your excitement and nerves. You are determined to prove your worth, despite your limited knowledge of motorcycles. In truth, you don't care much about the specifics of the job; it's all about paying the bills for your apartment. Even though your mom insists on helping, it's too much for her. Several cafes rejected your job applications due to your refusal to accept exploitation or wear specific uniforms. That's why having a job just 20 minutes away from your house, with a consistent schedule and no split work shifts, feels like a great opportunity.

You are more than ready to embrace this new chapter in your life at D&D MOTORS, at least for the next few months until you earn your degree and sort out some other aspects of your life.

The one who isn't willing to embrace the concept of working with someone else is Inui Seishu. As you stand there, happily texting your mom about the new job, you can't shake the feeling that there's more to him than meets the eye.

THURSDAY. SEPTEMBER 23TH. 2013. 

Inui Seishu is the typical man who hates Twilight. You haven't asked him, but you know it. It's not like you have the opportunity to exchange more than two words with him. Every time you try to ask him something, you get a 'uh-huh' or a 'look it up on the computer' as a response. The only moments when you have more chances to talk to him are when you make a mistake in naming a part of the order or point something out. Then, Inui's sermons, as cold and abrupt as he is, echo off the walls of the shop. Later, Draken arrives to tell you it's not a big deal and gives you a pat on the back.

Even though you have only been here for two weeks, you have already gotten used to the penetrating smell of burnt oil and gasoline at D&D MOTORS. Your mother isn't exactly thrilled about you working in such an environment, especially with the rise of gangs in Tokyo, but she can't complain much if that job helps you pay the rent. Every day you look at the calendar, hoping to get to the final exams of your degree and say goodbye to Tokyo to return to your hometown.

“My co-workers are not dangerous, Mom, I promise. I have to go in. Love you,” you close your phone and open the heavy glass doors of the shop.

Draken is looking at the day's schedule, and Inui is starting to set up his toolbox next to the radio he uses to play some music during work time. The doorbell rings when you enter, catching Draken's and Inui's attention.

“Good morning. You are a bit late today. Everything okay on the way here?” Draken comments as he continues to write things in the notebook. A few days ago, you mentioned that you don't live in a good area of the city, but it's what you can afford. Inui, at his boss's words, lifts his gaze and finally greets you with a nod. His expression remains as serious as ever.

“Hello,” you reply with a smile, trying to appear as relaxed as possible. “Yes, my mother called, and I couldn’t hang up sooner. Sorry,” you make a slight bow. Draken laughs lightly.

“No worries, woman. I arrived a couple of minutes ago. Inui is always the first to arrive.”

“I just like to get up early,” the blonde says without much emotion.

Draken approaches you, leaving the counter.

“Today, we have a couple of customers waiting for us to take a look at their bikes. You know how it works. Inui inspects, and you write down what he tells you, understood? I have to handle several orders, so I'll be at the counter for today.”

“Understood,” you nod as you hang your coat on the rack. You are determined to show that you can be a valuable worker. Draken pats your shoulder before turning to Inui.

“Inui, you know the drill. Today, you're in charge of the initial inspection. I trust you'll do a good job with Eiichiro. He really likes your way of working.'” Inui nods without saying a word.

Both of them go to their respective tasks, and you prepare to assist your colleague in the inspection.

The discomfort in the air is palpable. You can't quite understand what part of your personality Inui finds displeasing. But you are at work to work, not to make friends, so you have to swallow your colleague's attitude without complaint. After all, the pay is generous, you don't have split shifts, and Ryuguji (or Draken, as he has asked you to call him on the third day) is a great guy.

When the first customer arrives, you watch carefully the meticulousness and attention to detail with which Inui works. It's evident that he has outstanding technical skills. You begin to take notes of his observations, trying to learn as much as possible.

You can't help but be acutely aware of the silence that envelops the workshop. The client goes away to run some errands while the revision is being done, and Draken is nowhere to be seen. Inui's work seems almost unnaturally quiet except for the occasional sound of 'hum' or 'pass me the screwdriver,' amplifying the awkwardness of the situation." . Every move appears as if it's part of a silent ballet. He almost looks bored, if it weren't for the light reflecting in his eyes. Eyes that look at you from time to time discreetly, as if waiting for you to make a mistake. You almost feel like a child waiting to be grounded. The absence of chatter or the usual workshop sounds adds to the discomfort, making you feel like an intruder in this world of expertise.

With a notepad in hand, you begin to take notes of your observations, the sound of the pen scratching against the paper echoing in the quiet space. You have already familiarized yourself with the brake locations and even sketched a few diagrams detailing the engine parts. But in the hushed environment, you can't shake the feeling of unease, like an outsider trying to blend into a world where silence reigns, and every movement holds a weighty significance.

Whenever you think you have identified a possible issue, your eyes meet Inui's unwavering gaze. Although he doesn't speak a word, his discreet look seems to silently pass judgment on you. After a few minutes of inspection, you cautiously venture to ask a question. "Could it be an issue with the engine's synchronization?" you ask. Inui nods slightly, but his expression remains unflinching. Soon, he redirects his attention back to the motorcycle.

You decide to delve deeper into your theory. "Perhaps it’s a blocked exhaust valve," you mention, tilting your head, hoping for a response or a sign of confirmation. Once again, Inui nods with a minimal gesture, without saying a word. He stands up while removing his gloves and shakes them against his pants. You close your eyes as you watch him smear grease on the fabric. That stain won't come off easily, not even completely.

As if he was a mind reader, Inui speaks for the first time in ten minutes. "I don't come to the workshop to stay clean. The dirtier my uniform is, the harder I've worked in a day," he says. You nod at his words, although you don't entirely agree with his statement.

"Oh, of course, it makes sense,". It doesn't make much sense, but who are you to contradict someone who seems to have no thoughts behind their gaze?

Back when you still lived with your mother and came home after a night out, you tried to make as little noise as possible to avoid disturbing her. In those moments, you felt the same way, measuring your words and avoiding causing any disruption. The lack of conversation and the absence of the usual workshop sounds only make the situation more uncomfortable.

Tearing the page where you’ve been taking notes from the notebook, you leave it on the seat of the inspected motorcycle, and then follow Inui through the workshop. Appearing submissive is something you hate; but working with someone who makes you feel like a burden with every step is even worse.

“Hey, Inui”

“Uh-uhm.”

“Am I bothering you?”

“Right now? Not much.” Inui grabs a denim jacket from the rack and drapes it over his shoulders. Draken looks at him from the counter, raising an eyebrow. ” I need to step out for a moment.” You watch how he touches the pocket of his jacket, probably making sure he has the pack of cigarettes he always carries around “I  won't be out long. If Eiichiro comes back, you take care of it.” Nodding towards you, Inui proceeds to leave the premises. It has started drizzling not long ago. 

You follow his figure with your gaze, observing how his hair sways gracefully with each step his military boots take.

“This guy... “ Draken's voice breaks the silence with a comment that is more for himself than for you.

“He's peculiar. “ you add.

“He's really damn weird.” Both of you laugh at his comment “But he's a very good person and a great friend. He didn't have an easy adolescence when it comes to making friends.” As he pronounces the last word, he gestures with his hands as if making quotation marks. “Give him time, you'll get along well.”

The conversation with Draken continued for a few more minutes. The rain began to intensify. Eiichiro should have arrived a while ago, and Inui hadn't arrived either.

"Inupi didn't have an umbrella, did he?" Draken asks. You shake your head. "Here, take one for him. He's probably in the alley on the other street, having a smoke, and he can't come out in this downpour. I'd go, but I'm waiting for a call. If Eiichiro comes, I'll let him know to wait for a moment."

Taking the umbrella that Draken hands you and another for yourself from the umbrella stand, you nod and start walking to the location. It must be a frequent spot for him to know where he is with such assurance.

As you approach the alley, you hear hushed whispers beneath the sound of falling raindrops. Suddenly, laughter fills the air. You clutch the umbrella you're holding tightly and press the other one close to your chest.

"Inui, I brought you an—"

The words you were about to speak are left unspoken. The scene unfolding before your eyes is hard to comprehend. Seishu's back is visible in the darkness of the alley, but the hands gripping his scalp and exploring his back under his jacket are unmistakable.

When you were taking a step back to return the way you came, both figures become aware of the sound and turn around. Seishu raises his eyebrows, and your gaze instinctively goes to his swollen lips. In an instant, you cast a glance at his companion. You couldn't see his features clearly, but slanted eyes and white hair greet you in the darkness.

"...umbrella. Return carefully."

Dropping the umbrella to the ground, you run back to the workshop. Embarrassment starts to course through your body, and your cheeks begin to burn. Suddenly, laughter begins to bubble up, and when you arrive at the workshop, you close the door and bend over your stomach, laughing.

Draken is just finishing his call when he sees you walk in the door. Hearing your laughter, a smile spreads across his face. The redness doesn't leave your cheeks, just like the feeling of embarrassment that penetrates your mind.

"He..." You still haven't caught your breath enough to articulate a word properly. "He was..." Opening your mouth to laugh again, you raise your hands to start clapping your fingers together, mimicking two people kissing.

Your boss laughs again.

"Oh, so you've met Kokonoi."

Approaching the counter to pick up your water bottle and take a sip, you heard the door beginning to open.

"Now," your coworker's voice made you jump, "now you're really bothering me."

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 9TH. 2013.

Inui Seishu's lip balm has the scent of vanilla although his mouth carries the taste of tobacco. Kokonoi loves the former, but he detests the latter. However, whenever he sees Seishu, he doesn't waste much time before capturing his lips, entwining his fingers in his long blonde hair. He is the one who gives him that lip balm; the same one that Akane carries in her school case whenever they go to the library. This brings him closer to understanding what it would be like to kiss her.

But he's sure that Inui Akane wouldn’t have hands as big and calloused. Nor such a broad back. Nor the prominent Adam's apple in his throat. That's why closing his eyes and kissing Seishu is the simplest way to live out his fantasies

"I have a business trip tomorrow. I'm going to Hong Kong for a couple of weeks."

Oh, that's great," Inui replies, his attention still on his phone. The screen congratulates him for completing another Candy Crush level when he presses the lock button. "Are you going with the Haitani brothers?"

"No." Kokonoi's coat costs more than the entire D&D MOTORS shop and the rent of all the buildings in his neighborhood. Seishu watches closely as Hajime adjusts the collar of his shirt, covering any possible marks decorating the smooth skin of his neck. Any mark that brings him thoughts of Seishu; any mark that reminds him that it doesn't belong to Akane." "I'm going alone. I'll leave you money for the taxi and for another shampoo."

"Shampoo?"

"Yes." Turning towards him, Kokonoi approaches his body lying on the bed and grabs a strand of hair. 

"I don't like the scent of the one you use. It's too strong."

"Ah." Seishu moves his hand aside to sit up on the bed. He takes his white T-shirt from the end of the bed and starts to get dressed. "Lately, my hair has been falling out quite a bit. Draken told me this one would help, but it's true the scent doesn't suit me much."

"Certainly not." Checking the time once again, Hajime gives a final look to the hotel room before approaching the door. "Goodbye Inupi, take care."

The sound of the closing door echoes within the four walls. A sigh escapes Seishu's lips. The king-size bed, covered with high-quality Egyptian cotton sheets, is too big for one person. Surrounded by fluffy pillows, he sat on the mattress and watched the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. He could take the opportunity to watch "House of Cars" and entertain himself. He had asked for the day off from Draken, so he wasn't in a hurry to go back anywhere. Although, in his day-to-day life, he never really rushed for anything. He didn't even have to go back anywhere.

He decided to lie back down and rested his forearm against his forehead. The distant sounds of the city served as a lullaby; Koko always chose hotels away from the crowd. He had time to stay in the room until six, and it was only four. He considered taking a nap but opted to check his mobile phone again. He had an unread message from Draken.

"Look at what you're missing out on," he smiled upon seeing the photo that accompanied the text. It's a blurry picture of a plate of Takoyaki and some fingers with silver rings peering in the lower corner of the photograph. You don't need to be Sherlock Holmes to know that the low-quality jewelry belonged to you. Tomorrow you would come complaining that your fingers were turning green. He would take the opportunity to call you Hulk, and you would get angry and say, "are you implying that I'm a monster?"

Seishu laughs before locking his phone and closing his eyes, sinking deeper into the tranquil cocoon of the luxurious hotel room. Outside, the city's lights began to twinkle as evening settled in. 

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 4 TH, 2013.

There are good days and bad days. Today was one of the latter kind. 

The guy you had been seeing had been leaving your messages on read for three days. It's not like you had grown too attached, but he provided some company outside of friendship. On the other hand, you had continuous arguments with his family for the most absurd reasons. Your roommate thought it was a good idea to finish your cereal box without asking and to constantly bring her boyfriend into the common areas of the house. To top it off, you got your period before leaving home. You felt like a matchstick being dragged across the box, destined to turn into white phosphorus at some point.

When your umbrella wouldn't close at the entrance of D & D MOTORS, and you arrived fifteen minutes late (with wet hair and socks) for your shift, the last thing you wanted to deal with was your coworker's comments.

Draken had to go on a business trip to pick up some parts in Osaka and was going to take the opportunity to see some old friends. Considering the time he spent at work, you were sure he could use some time away. However, this also meant more time with Seishu. And that didn't excite you much. He had been quite irritating lately. You had heard Draken talking about a fight with his boyfriend (or whatever their relationship was). You didn't care much about people's sex lives, except when it directly affected you. Whatever was going on with Inui, he was taking it out on you at work. So the best thing that could happen to him today was to keep quiet until the clock struck six, without sermons, sharp comments, or unnecessary sarcasm.

“Christmas is approaching, have you thought about asking Santa for a watch?”

“What?” The vein on your forehead starts to throb.

“I’m asking you if you've thought about being on time for once. Draken should start deducting hours from your contract.” 

When his words meet silence, Inui places the wrench he was holding on the floor. He turns his body to face yours. His green eyes inspect you from head to toe with an indifferent look. Instinctively, you cover your stomach with your hands. Has he noticed that you look more bloated today? Without saying a word, he turns his head and goes back to his business.

“Are you going to start working now?” he asks.

You don't know if it's the stress, the piercing pain in your lower back, or the bad weather. But the tears in your eyes start to burn more and more.

“What have I done to make you treat me like crap?” The words flow from your throat before your brain can process them.”If you want, I can talk to Draken and ask him to switch my shift. But I don't deserve to be treated like this.”

“Like what? Look, I don't understand what's wrong with you today.”

“It's not today, Inui, it's every day” Tears began to roll down your cheeks. Damn it, you didn't want to cry today. At least not in front of anyone. “I don't expect us to be friends, but lately, it seems like you hate me, and I don't want that either.”

Seishu looks puzzled as you bring your hands to your eyes and try to wipe away the tears before they fall from your cheeks. How badly had he behaved? He wasn't the most careful person when speaking; his parents always nudged him when he was opening Christmas presents to make him put on a better face. Words kept coming out of your mouth, but Inui had stopped listening to you a few minutes ago, thinking about the interactions of the past week and measuring the words of what he was going to say next.

“I don't hate you. Not at all. I had a fight with someone important to me, and it affected my behavior. I'm sorry.” Bowing slightly, Inui prays that this will be enough to stop your tears.

“...and you're always so obsessed with me being a few minutes late; are you that obsessed with the time?” Your eyes remain hidden behind your hands, which continue to wipe away the salty drops endlessly pouring from your eyes.

He clicks his tongue and straightens up at the same time. With all the gentleness that his calloused hands allow, he delicately grabs your forearms to separate them from your body.

“Hey, did you hear me?” Moving away abruptly, you bring your arms to your chest protectively ”I don't hate you, okay?” He continues speaking. “To be honest, I'm just like that. I thought you knew” You raise an eyebrow at his words, sniffing the mucus generated by your tears with your nose.

“Did you think I found you that unpleasant?”

“No, I didn't mean that” He laughs lightly, putting a hand in one of his pants pockets, and handing you a tissue. His laughter is a very pleasant sound. “I'm not the most expressive person, I guess. I don't know, I'm a bit reserved. I don't usually express things the way I should. But I don't hate you, not at all. I haven't stopped to think about how I made you feel with my words, to be honest.”

Your reddened eyes meet his. For the first time, you notice that there is no boredom in his gaze. Just genuine concern. Despite your anger and frustration, something in the way he looks at you makes you lower your guard a bit.

“Well, that's a start, I guess” You murmur, feeling the tension slowly subside and bringing the tissue you had taken from Inupi to your nose. Inui nods as if he agrees with you. He seems uncomfortable, but he's willing to try to resolve the situation.

“I'll pay more attention to how I act, I promise.” You smile at his words.

“I've never heard you laugh” The poker face disappears from his face. The slightest blush decorates his cheeks. “I like your laugh, Inui.”

“Of course you like my laugh, you sound like a newborn piglet when you’re laughing” A mischievous smile appears on his face.

“Take that back!” Grabbing a cloth from the seat of a motorcycle, you start whipping his shoulder. Laughter begins to resonate in the shop as his Adams apple moves with every sound.  “Good thing you have a boyfriend, because you're terrible with women.”

Taking the piece of fabric from your hands, Inui Seishu stands in front of you with an eyebrow raised. For the first time, you are aware of how tall he is. Despite his soft features, he has a very masculine jaw. Your eyes instantly shift to your hands, where you hold the other end of the cloth tightly.

“I don't think I'm bad with women in any sense. You can ask one of my ex-girlfriends if you want tho.”

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 13 TH. 2013

The rainy days are the least crowded in the store. Only half an hour left before closing time, and it didn't look like any customers were going to walk in through the door. In the fridge, there were a couple of beers that Draken had bought for the Friday night shifts.

"You're going to laugh at me." The glass of the Asahi bottle was freezing the tips of your fingers. Inui had taken the last Kirin.

“Oh, believe me, I don't need to know your favorite movie to laugh at you. You give me plenty of reasons already.”

“I know, but I know you, and you're going to annoy me day and night.” 

“It's Twilight, isn't it?” Silence fills the room before a deep laugh erupts from his chest. The sound quickens the pace of your heartbeat. It’s too pleasant, too familiar. If death were to knock on your door at that moment and offer you the chance to hear something for the last time, you would choose to hear Inui's laughter.

“Yes” You answer without thinking, with a smile on your face and a blush spreading across your cheeks. Your favourite movie isn’t Twilight, you don’t even like vampires. It was probably a 2000s sitcom or some Adam Sandler comedy. But you were still enchanted by the mischievous smile Inui fixed on you.

“Kokonoi has always hated Twilight” When he spoke those words, Seishu fixed his gaze ahead. He never talks about him. And you don’t really want to know.  You observe how  a sad smile makes its way in Inui’s face. 

“And you don't?” You ask, giving him a light nudge in the torso.

“I love it” In response, your body turned automatically, your mouth opening in surprise.

“NO WAY” Now it’s your turn to laugh. Inui's eyes fixated on the dimple that occasionally appears on the right side of your face. He likes it (the dimple and your laugh).

“Draken and I went to watch Breaking Dawn Part Two at the cinema last year. Some girls invited us for a drink after the movie. It was fun.”

“Oh well, you use it as a flirting technique” You roll your eyes. A strange knot forms in your stomach as you speak those words “That doesn't count.”

“Pf, I don't need to say I like Twilight to flirt. Just covering this up with a bit of concealer is enough” His fingers pointed to the red mark that covered a quarter of his face.

Your eyebrows furrow at his words, and a wave of questions and emotions fill your mind. Why would someone as attractive as Inui feel the need to hide a birthmark?

“Why would you do that? You have a beautiful face.”

A lopsided smile appears on Inui's lips before he took a sip from his beer bottle. You can be as blunt as him when you want. (He also likes that)

“You're very kind. Try telling me that when we're not drinking” he says while flicking your forehead with his free hand.

“Inupi, are you laughing at me?” Grabbing his cheeks between your hands, you gently squeeze his face between the sleeves of your sweater. “You have an enviable face. You don't have to be ashamed of a birthmark.”

“It's not a birthmark” Setting the beer aside, the young man grabs your wrist and rolls up the sleeve of your sweater on your forearm to let your fingers touch his forehead.

Feeling the wrinkled skin under your fingers, you shiver. It indeed wasn’t a birthmark; it was a scar. So Inui decides it’s time to tell you everything. The fire, Akane, Kokonoi, Shinichiro, his adolescence. Throughout the monologue, your hand continues to caress his head, alternating between his forehead and some strands of his hair. (He appreciates that). His voice didn't waver at any point. It almost sounded like a rehearsed speech, bordering on robotic.

Evoking pity is disgusting. Just remembering how his family's friends acted after the fire makes him angry. The looks they gave when they discovered the mark beneath the bandage, the whispers when they left his sister's room, the loneliness of his parents. Everyone went to say goodbye to Akane, but no one stayed with the Inui family. Except Koko.

"And at what point in your story do heels come into play?" Your voice disrupts his thoughts. He notices your hand is no longer on his head. Sitting on the floor, imitating his posture, your pinky timidly caresses the back of his hand. A shy smile decorating your face, inviting him to speak more. "When did you start liking heels?"

He was never a cheerful child, but he was a child who loved to laugh. Akane always tried by all means to erase the poker face from his expression, and most of the time, she succeeded.

At some point during his speech, his pinky ends up entwined with yours.

MONDAY DECEMBER 23RD 2013

The day Inui Seishu cuts ties with Kokonoi Hajime, the workshop is swamped with tasks. Christmas is in two days and people want to be able to travel with their bikes. Draken never stops answering calls, and you attend to customers, jotting down the problems they describe and directing them on where to park their motorcycles for Inui to inspect later.

It's not traumatic, and no tears are shed. It's expected by both parties. They haven't slept together for weeks. Inui is always straightforward with his words, and that day is no exception. Koko chuckles and affectionately caresses his cheek. His white hair is tied in a braid, and a diamond adorns his right ear.

"One less Christmas gift to buy, huh?" A mischievous smile spreads across his face."Take care, Inupi. You always know where to find me."

A light drizzle falls over Tokyo. Upon entering, Inui fixes his gaze on the scene unfolding before him. The last customer has just left the shop when you place a Christmas hat on Draken's head. He's smiling as he bends down slightly. Seishu closes his umbrella and approaches the counter. Your eyes meet his, and your hand extends a piece of red fabric, shaking it slightly.

"I'm not going to wear a Santa Claus hat."

"I know you're not going to wear it yourself," you say, circling the counter and getting closer to him. "I'm going to put it on you."

"I don't have another choice, do I?" he asks, but your arms are already outstretched, and the synthetic fabric is caressing his still damp hair. Seishu's impassive face doesn't reveal any emotion, but a slight glint in his eyes indicates that he's not as annoyed as he's trying to show. When you finish placing the hat, you lightly pat his cheek.

"Look at yourself!"

"I'm not going to."

But even with the worst expression on his face and speaking with as little energy as possible, the smile struggling to break through gives him away. As you step away for a moment to go to the bathroom, Draken winks at him. Inui's middle fingers don't take long to show his boss his shiny black-painted nails.

"Nice color."

"Screw you."

"Thanks, buddy."

Seishu approaches the motorcycle he has to finish fixing. A liquid leak can be repaired in 45 minutes if he hurries.

"Inui."

"Hmm?"

"Teach me how to ride a motorcycle."

The blonde pauses in his work. You? On a motorcycle? You, who trip over your own shadow and seem always about to cry when it gets cold and you forget your jacket? (he always ends up lending you his) Well, no, he's not going to fix the bike’s problem in 45 minutes.

"Don't you think it's a bit dangerous to learn to ride a motorcycle in this weather?"

You sit down next to him on the floor and decide to watch as he resumes his work on the motorcycle.

"I can live with the risk it poses."

"All right, then. But I won't do it. Ask Draken," he says, rolling his eyes at your words. You huff. Not even a Christmas hat can motivate him.

"Draken is going to Osaka tomorrow to spend Christmas Eve with his friends."

"I know, he invited me to go with him."

"And? Are you going?"

"No, my parents want to have dinner with me" Inui lets out a sigh.

"Oh, well, that's fine," you reply. "So I guess we'll see each other on Wednesday. Don't think I'm going to stop insisting tho" you add.

Seishu smiles inwardly. He doesn't expect you to stop. (He doesn’t want you to.)

As you stand up to start tidying up the workshop, Draken says his goodbyes to both of you. He still has some packing to do, and he has to leave early in the morning, wishing you both a Merry Christmas.

"Why the sudden fixation on learning to ride a motorcycle?"

"I want to impress someone."

In all your interactions during the few months you've known each other, Inui has been the one to speak plainly. You always try to express things differently, frustrating everyone who dislikes indirectness (Him).

Seishu begins to remove his gloves. A small wrinkle forms on his forehead as he furrows his brows. Your shoes suddenly become the most interesting object in the room. So much so that you can't, and don't want to, take your eyes off them.

"Do you think you can impress someone by taking them on a motorcycle ride that could potentially end in the hospital?" Inui is the first to break the silence. His hands finish cleaning the motorcycle he has just repaired.

"He's used to my clumsiness. I don't think he'll be too impressed." The heat begins to rise in your cheeks as you speak each word.

Inui arches an eyebrow, intrigued by your words. But still, he doesn't say anything immediately. Instead, he stands up and places the gloves on the freshly repaired motorcycle. His eyes carefully examine your shoes for a moment, trying to see what's so interesting that you can't look at him.

"What if you tell him how you feel instead of trying to impress him with daring maneuvers?"

A mix of surprise and nervousness is reflected in your gaze. You know Inui always gets straight to the point, but speaking openly about your feelings is a bit more unfamiliar territory. However, you have resolved to take a step forward.

"That sounds too easy for the person I'm trying to win over. Don't you think a good dose of bravery on a motorcycle might be more effective?"

Inui smiles slightly, as if enjoying the wordplay.

"Oh, c’mon." Placing a hand on your head, he affectionately ruffles your hair. "What could be braver for you than being honest with yourself and others?" Fortunately, your brain can't throb like your heart is doing at that moment because, knowing Inui, he would drag you to the hospital in a heartbeat. "But, okay, if you think impressing him on a motorcycle is the best way to have a chance with him, then go ahead. I'll try to help you."

Your lips curve into a grateful smile.

"You're great, Inui, tha—"

"However, I have a condition. Actually, two." Placing a hand on your chin, he holds your head still to look into your eyes once and for all. Your shoes will have to stop being interesting for a few minutes. "The lesson will take place as soon as we finish the shift." As you open your mouth to reply, his finger moves to rest on your lips to prevent you from speaking. "And when we finish the lesson, invite me to watch 'Twilight' tonight and ask me out on a proper date. I'm not a fan of indirects."

"And what if I already have plans tonight?" you comment, gently withdrawing the hand that prevents you from speaking. Seishu smiles without taking his eyes off yours. His eyes reflect, for the first time in a long time, happiness. Your fingers interlace with his and his thumb caress your hand instantly.

"Then," leaning in close to your ear, you feel his breath on your ear. You love the smell of his shampoo "now you have better ones."

[yuyu1024]

Two friends with Benefit

Pairings: Yunho × y/n x Mingi

Genre/tags: arranged marriage, cheating

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 poly, smut, cursing, pet names, jealousy, smut/angst, kink/fetish, fingering, unprotected sex [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.3k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: reposting all my stories one by one again as I deleted my acct by mistake. All of the stories I will be posting is all mine. (All of my fanfics/oneshots are also available wattpad @/shinestar1024)

It has been more than a year since you moved in to your new apartment. Work has been so hectic for you that going back from work and your house, with your parents, every damn day is too much to handle. Sleep is very important for you. If you can't sleep, you can't focus on work. And if you can focus o work, your boss will probably yell at you and shame you in front of everybody. Nobody wants that. You need this job. You need the paycheck and that money can't give you the space you need. Everything is so damn expensive these days.

And that's why, you are incredibly lucky that your two best friends from college offered their extra room for you.

Yunho and Mingi are both working at the same tech company that is in the area. Their work pays well thats why they can afford the nice and spacious apartment they have now.

The room they gave you was their gaming room. Its spacious enough for you and your needs so you can't complain about it. It's free! Actually everything is sort of free to you. They didn't asked you to pay or share besides your part of the rental. Which makes you question how much they earn by typing things in their computers.

But besides that, the two towers are not just your roommates. Besides being your bestfriends, these two have been your fuck bodies for awhile now. It started from a small bet while all three of you are tipsy and now it flourished to this amazing trio that you thought will never work but It did... and its still going.

"Babe!" Mingi is across the street from where you at, waving. He's smiling and jumping. He can't wait to cross the street. Yunho is standing beside him, laughing at him.

When the signal says Okay to cross, Mingi runs and immidiately hugs you. "Y/n, you're back!"

You've been away for a week because of a work thing and this has been the longest you three have been separated.

"Yeaaah, glad to be back. I miss my bed..." You pout

"Just the bed?" Yunho tugs the strand of hair that's been bothering you.

"Of course I missed you two! My roommate for the trip is a handful... she's so talkative and does not respect my personal space. I CAN'T!" you say, rolling your eyes.

"Guess you prefer us being noisy than her..." Mingi says

"Of course..." You wrap your hands around his arm and lean your head.

"You look tired... so let's get home and eat something good to make you feel better." Yunho takes your luggage and carries it for you.

"Thank, Yunho."

When you guys arrive at the apartment, the first thing you did is lay down on the huge as sofa that you call your second bed. This is is where you usually fall asleep after a night out or an extreme overtime at work.

"I miss this!" You hug the pillows like you've been gone for a year.

"Yah!" Yunho comes over and playfully pulls your leg so you get closer to him and slaps your butt "Don't be such a tease this... we should eat first... like proper food before we can play."

You giggle as you see how Yunho's eyes are gazing on you. "Did you missed me that much?"

"you have no idea." he crawls over you until he reaches you, close enough that both of you lips almost touchs.

You bit your lip gently, teasing him even more. "You can show me later..." you whisper

"Oh, you bet I will." Yunho leans more and finally kisses you. The kiss is soft and yet tender that it pulls you in wanting more.

"Seriously? No one is going to help me prepare dinner?" Mingi calls you guys out

Laughing, "Okay, okay! I will get up and help you!" Yunho plants a small kiss on your cheek before letting you go.

"You! Yunho! You're taking advantage of me being busy here in the kitchen...why did you start making out with y/n?"

"I'm sorry! I can't help it. I missed her." Yunho takes an apron and puts it in.

"I too, missed her. I've been dreaming about having sex with her for days now... but we need to cook first!" Mingi pouts

"Aww! Mingi!" You get up and walk towards the kitchen to hug your baby giant. "Don't pout... I am back... we can make your dreams come true."

Hearing that made Mingi happy. He can't hide the smile on his face. "I promise to make you feel good. To fill you up." He leans down to kiss you, placing his hand behind your neck.

You start to moan as he continues to kiss you, then suddenly you felt hands moving from behind you. "Maybe... we should just skip dinner or order in for later?" Yunho breathes as his hands skims over your breast.

"Ah! Yunho!" You cry, leaning your head back to his chest. He's fingers circling over your hard tips. "S-shit! That's so good!"

"Baby, you sound so heavenly." Mingi goes down on his knees, kissing your exposed stomach as she starts to unbutton your jeans.

"Your breast is so plump." Yunho kisses you hard as he massages your boobs. "It's perfect... that... it fits our hands..." he says in between kisses.

"Ahh!" You raise your hand to grab onto Yunho as you feel the cooling sensation down there. Mingi removed your pants so easily.

"I've been craving this for a week now." Mingi snarls as he puts his face between your legs. "I want to eat now... can I go ahead?" He asks Yunho

"Go ahead... I'll make her busy up here..." Yunho changes his position have more access to yout breast. "Tell us to stop okay? If it's too much..."

"I... will..uhhh..." you try to answer but your knees weakens as you felt Mingi's tongue lick you up. "G-God!"

Smirking, Yunho unclasps your bra, freeing your plumps breast. He grabs one to massage while the other one he starts to lick using his tongue.

"Fuck!" You grab onto the counter for support. These guys are really making up for the whole damn week you've been gone. They are sucking the life out of you.

"W-wait..." you tap both of them. They stop and looks at you. "Let me... breathe..."

"Are we being too much?" Yunho kisses the back of your hand. "Do you want us to continue this on bed?"

"I can't wait to go to bed. Just fuck me on the sofa." You pull both of them with you. "Sit."

The two of them follows. They both stare at you, as you strip the rest of your clothes in front of them.

"Damn." Mingi bites his lips as he watches you. "You're so sexy!"

"Am I?" After throwing away the last clothing, you get closer to Mingi, spread your legs and sat on his lap. "Since, you are the first one to talk... you can fuck me first."

"Yes!" Mingi lowers down his jogger bands along with his boxers. The tip of his cock shows and the sight already makes you wet. "Come to Daddy little kitten!"

He gently puts himself in your core. He's to long and thick that you can already feel the thightness.

"Baby," you cry as you look at Yunho, sitting beside you two, watching. "Fuck!" You gasp as Mingi begins thrusting. "Kiss me..." You ask Yunho

He takes his top off, lowers his pants and moves closer to kiss you as he strokes himself.

"Y/n!" Mingi cries as you start to move your hips together with him in rythm. "You're so... tight!" He growls. "S-so good!"

Yunho backs away from kissing you and then moves to the next person. "You're so noisy. Making me jealous that you're fucking her first." Yunho goes in and kisses Mingi.

The other boy is so naughty, that he bit Yunho's lip lightly. "Don't worry. I'll make it quick so you can fuck her next while I fuck you behind."

[vanillaavengerlings]

To all Fanfic/fanart/ fandom content writers/creators/artists/anyone creating fandom content

As we enter the week of 22 July, I wanted to write something hopeful for any writers, artists and content creators out there, because let’s face it, things happening around the world is so grim and most of us are trying to survive the days. 

So, here’s something hopeful for any of you who need this.😄

Please reblog this as much as you can as I would love for fandom writers/creators/artists and for fanfic readers to read this. 

Thank you!

A small background about me - I write fanfics, mostly in the Avengers/Stony fandoms. And it’s what I’ve been doing mostly for a few years, despite schooling and transitioning to work.

It’s my escape from reality. When things get rough, I start writing. Writing fanfictions gives me comfort because I know the characters and I love them, so I feel safe in a way and it’s stress relieving for me.

In 2018, I had to attend a compulsory internship so that I could get my diploma and graduate. My course offered a few positions and one of them was writing for television programs at a well known media company in my country. 

I wanted that job so bad because I wasn’t interested in the others, they were too ‘corporate-like’. So I applied for it. They asked for my portfolio of written works.

And then it hit me. My God, all I’ve written so far were fanfics with male pairing. I come from a conservative country so LGBTQ stories are super rare and can be frowned upon. But that’s all I had and it was all I could submit.

Guess what?

I did just that. I took excerpts from my WIP/published fanfics, and added them into my portfolio. I even went the extra mile and typed a short excerpt into a screenwriting format, like a legit script for a show! (TV writing internships pay special attention to your script writing abilities)

I submitted them.

I was called for an interview a few days later. I was advised to bring hardcopy versions of my written work, so I printed out the stuff from my portfolio. I went for the interview and saw my coursemates, some of whom I consider really capable and smart. 

I thought, there’s no way my fanfics and I stand a chance in getting this job.

I went up first and had the usual interview questions. The last bit came, where the interviewer, a prominent executive producer in my country, asked for my written samples. I handed her the file and gave her a brief explanation of my work.

I told her I published my written works online and have a group of audience who read and review them. I also added that I use their feedback to improve my writing as a whole. She was nodding her head and reading the script of my fanfic I had written. I was hiding my smile. Everything she was flipping through were Stony and Avengers fanfic excerpts!

At last, she handed my file back to me and smiled. It signaled the end of my interview. I went back to my campus and sighed, already looking at the other positions to apply to.

Two hours later, I received the email that I had gotten the job, as a television writer intern at a prominent media company. And all I used were my fanfictions I had written!

I couldn’t believe it worked. My fellow coursemates write really good content and I went into the interview with fanfictions and got the job!

To this day, when I think about this, I laugh. Not in a self-deprecating way, but in a way of disbelief, seeing what I can pull off.

To everyone out there who are thinking so lowly of yourself because all you have done are work related to fandoms, I’ve been there, and I’m here to say that you are so talented coming up with unique content from something that is so fixed and rigid. So don’t be hard on yourself. 

You’re not wasting your time just because you post stuff on AO3 or Tumblr. Every written work/art/creative content is a great way for you to practice and work on your skills. I mean, we all have to start somewhere, right?

Seriously, it takes a lot of talent, creativity and hard work to write fanfictions, draw fanarts and create any fandom related content. And it takes so much of courage to put your work out there in the open for anyone to read.

And that’s the thing! It’s a service that you are doing, letting people read your words, your story, letting people see your art and your creativity. 

Don’t be ashamed of your fandom works. And don’t be ashamed of reading fanfictions. They’re a part of you. So don’t think of yourself lowly. No way. You’re all heroes, in your own ways. 

Some of the best written stories I’ve ever read came from AO3, some of the best art works and funniest content I’ve ever seen are fandom related.

You’ve got this, you talented talented human being. Go out there and shine bright! 🌟

[hayleythecannibal]

Hi,

do you still take requests? If you do, could you please write Hannibal fanfic where the reader dirstracts Hannibal, while he is doing his paperwork.Preferably ending in smut? Thanks for considering

Distractions, Distractions

TW: SMUT, MDom, FSub, PIV, Oral (Male receiving), Breeding K!nk, established Relationship.

My Heels click as I arrive home from Work, Today had been exhausting. I put my coat on the rack and go and search for my Husband, He's probably in his Office. I knock on the office door and hear him call. "Come in"

I smile and open the door, "Hello Doctor Lecter." I saunter over to him and give him a soft kiss. "Hello Doctor Lecter." He replies, I look over his shoulder And see the Paperwork on his desk. I'd roll my eyes if he didn't find the action rude.

"Thought you were done with work?" I say softly as I gently massage his shoulders. He places a hand on top of one of mine. "Jack Crawford asked me to take a look at this case." I kiss the side of his neck softly. He sighs.

"Patience is a virtue one always should possess" My husband says wisely. "Hannibal...I have missed you." I pout lightly. "I promise once I'm finished I will attend to your needs my love." He says as he resumes his reading. I roll my eyes and I leave his office with a wicked idea in mind.

I quickly and quietly go up to our room and I go into our walk in closet. I find my lingerie drawer and pull out my favorite set. I put my silk robe on and reapply my lipstick. A smirk on my face as I look at myself in the mirror.

Oh the trouble I will be in….I bite my lip softly and smile. I place my heels back on my feet and walk back down to Hannibal’s office. I knock softly. I tie my robe shut and open the door. “Sorry, I just wanna keep you company. Is that okay?” I say in a sultry tone.

“Is that really what you want Y/N?” He asks as he takes in my appearance. “Of course. Can’t I just keep my husband company?” I smile softly. He takes a good look at me and gestures me forward. He pays his lap and I sit down. “Now are you gonna be a good girl and tell me what you really want?” I blush deeply.

“I want you” I say softly, I place my hands on his chest. “You are a Distraction my dear.” He grips my waist tightly. “Is that such a bad thing?” I untie my robe. “Not always.”

He cups my jaw, stroking my lips with his thumb. I open my mouth and wrap my lips around his thumb. “Good girl, get on your knees.” I bite my lip and obey. Sinking to my knees, happy to please my husband.

I unbuckle his belt and undo his slack. My mouth salivating. I pull his cock out of his pants and gaze up at him. He pets my hair softly. “Go ahead, I know you can take it.” He says with a smile.

I wrap my hand around his cock and spit on it. I start pumping my hand. He groans softly as I wrap my lips around the head of his cock. Swirling my tongue expertly. I look at him through my lashes as I take him deeper into my mouth and throat.

Stroking the underside with my tongue. Hannibal makes a ponytail with his hand in my hair. Bobbing my head in the pace he wants. Moaning. Oh his moans make me soaked. Probably because I know I’m the one making him feel this good.

I pull off his cock, still pumping his slick cock in my hand “I need you…please…” I plead. I’m needy and soaked. “Such a good girl for me” he strokes my face. I whimper softly. “Please”

He lifts me from my knees. His desk cleared now. He kisses me passionately. I moan into his mouth. The robe slips from my body and my bra strap falls. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” His hand trails down to my pussy. “Y/N your soaked.”

“Hannibal Fuck me please” he undoes my bra and cups my breasts kneading my nipples between his fingers. I moan loudly. “Fuck- oh fuck”

He removes my panties as I unbutton his shirt with desperation and need. Kissing his neck and running my hands through his hair. He strokes his cock before he sets me on his desk.

Lays me back and spreads my legs. Pushing his cock into my pussy. “Ohh- fuck- ah-“ one of his hands are gripping my waist the other is playing with my clit. “Oh my god- fuck! Feels so good- feel so full-“ I moan, gripping his arms.

He shows no mercy in the way he’s pounding me. Fucking me silly. “You like the way I’m pounding this pussy” i nod my head, my eyes rolling back as my body bucks up to meet his thrusts.

“Feels so good” I’m drooling, been a while since he’s fucked me this good. My nails scratch at his arms and back and chest gripping onto anything they can get a hold of as my body bucks in spasms. 

He moans. “I could cum inside you, start our family. You’d like that wouldn’t you lovely”

“Please, please cum inside me. Get me pregnant” I beg, the thought of being full of his cum, and carrying his child almost brings me to orgasm itself. “Yeah want me to make you a mommy?”

“Yes- fuck-! Please I’m so close-“ he speeds up his pace and the stroking of my clit. I could tell he was getting close. My moaning became unintelligible as I come closer to cumming.

“Oh- fuck-! Hannibal” my eyes roll back and my body spasms as I orgasm, my clenching pussy, and bringing him to his. I feel his seed fill inside me. Oh, and what a wonderful feeling it is.

“I should distract you more often if it means you’ll fuck me like this” I joke with a smile as he softly kisses me.

[reallypleasanttree]

Obamitsu Modern AU incomplete fanfic. I wrote this months ago and never posted it since I couldn’t figure out how to continue it.

Kyojuro: My boss is keeping me until close. Raincheck?

Obanai: Yeah. Does tomorrow work? 

The black haired man sighed. He and his brother planned this dinner a while ago to celebrate Obanai’s promotion. It had been postponed several times due to shitty weather or otherwise. What was another day? He pulled out his wallet and held up his hand to summon the waiter to pay for his drink. Well, drinks since he had ordered one for his brother. He would leave after finishing two whiskey sours.

“Can you pretend to be my date for five minutes?” Someone whispered in his ear. Before Obanai could respond, a pink haired woman sat down across from him. He was in a corner booth with glass panels above the leather bench. In this secluded spot, people would not have to look at his scars while he ate. 

Nervously, she looked beyond him. He turned his head slightly and noticed a tall blond man watching the pink haired girl intently. 

“Sure,” Obanai said, recognizing the obvious distress in her voice. She was all dolled up. Her hair was pulled up into a bun and her makeup was exquisite with dark eyeliner framing her green eyes. Her lips are pale pink. She was quite pretty if not eccentric. 

“Thanks,” she let out a sigh of relief. “My friend stood me up,” she smiled at him. He picked up his drink. 

“My brother stood me up,” he commented. “Who’s the guy behind us?” He asked, lowering his voice. 

“A coworker. Sort of. We work for the same company, but different departments. He gives me the creeps,” she admitted. He nodded slowly and sipped his drink. 

“But I don’t?” Obanai asked. He had mismatched eyes, dark hair, and a face mask on despite being inside. Obanai had been told he gave people the creeps. The woman tilted her head considering his question. 

“No. You give off ‘Don’t mess with me’ vibes, not ‘I’ll kidnap you and hide you in my basement’ vibes,” she laughed and he found himself grinning at her weird sense of humor. “Plus, you were sitting alone, so I figured you could use the company,” she added. 

“You said a friend stood you up?” Obanai asked to change the subject. 

“Yeah, she was supposed to take me out for my birthday, but she had to cancel. One of her patients went into labor,” the woman pouted for a second. 

“It's your birthday? That blows,” he said and set down his drink. 

“It’s no big deal. She’ll make it up to me later. She always does,” her green eyes flickered over to her coworker. He was still standing at the bar watching her. He didn’t even bother to hide it. 

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Obanai asked and flexed his hand under the table. She threw him an anxious smile and shook her head. 

“No, it’ll be alright,” she said and looked down at the empty plate. It had been five minutes since she sat down. Obanai picked up a menu and gestured for her to do the same. 

“Your friend left you stranded, your coworker is creeping on you, and it’s your birthday. The least your fake date can do is pay for a meal,” Obanai said. She looked ready to refuse him. 

“You should know I have a big appetite,” she said and opened the menu. Compared to him, everyone had a bigger appetite. 

“That’s fine. Order whatever you want. I got a promotion recently, so I'll pay,” Obanai said. “You can have my brother’s whiskey sour if you want it.”

“You don’t take drinks from strangers,” she replied. Smart girl. 

“Obanai,” he placed his hand on the table for her to grab. He couldn’t exactly shake her hand in an official greeting if they were on a fake date. She reached across the table and settled her hand over his. It was smooth against his callouses.

“Mitsuri,” she grinned, catching on quickly. “Also, I don’t like whiskey sours.”

[sweet-villain]

Cutting Too Deep~ E.M

Word : 6.5k

Angst

Anonymous asked:

I LOVE the way you write, not ironically for me you are one of the best fanfic writers on tumblr. can i order an eddie x reader? like, you've known Eddie since middle school, and since then you've been in love with him, but you didn't know if what you felt for him was reciprocated, until one day he asked you out, like, a date, everything is doing well, maybe more than friends will come, but until the day you find out he was hooking up with someone from the first date, I need angst and I know you're great at it! ❤️

@babyloutattoo89 @palomam18 @becca-alexa @sadbitchfangirl @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @djkeruigbbygirl @haileighboi @bookshelf-dust @moonchildquinn @strangerfreak

You never imagined in your life what’s like to fall in love, to like someone, to spend quality time with someone and for someone to mean something to you. Not until him. You first notice him when he sat across the table doodling away in his notebook, not paying attention to anything around him. His eyebrow narrowed while the tip of his tongue peeked out as he focused on what he was doing. It was like at sudden when his pencil snapped in half causing him to frown as he gazed at it. 

He picked up his head to look around the room for a pencil sharpener or something to help him. In his hoping success he had found nothing, and to ask someone was out of the question. He didn’t make any friends in his grade and when he turned around to pout about his broken pencil, he was surprised to have you looking at him already. 

Your eyes dropped to the broken pencil laying there on his desk and it rolled to the ground. He didn’t care on picking up anymore, it was trash now. He watch you dug into your backpack with the tip of your tongue peeking out and eyebrows narrowed mirroring the same expression he had moments ago and then with success, you took out a pencil with your eyes brightening up in happiness. 

“ Here” you offered to him. You reached across the table in hopes that it would make you happy that someone in this class took the time to help him out. His eyes dropped towards the pencil in your hands then at you to see if you’d pull away, laugh at him like the others would. But there you were sitting there in your seat, blinking until he reached with his hand out and took the pencil from your hands. 

“ Thanks” he muttered underneath his breath but you made out the words he spoke to you. With a small smile, you returned to what you were doing and he could not stop glancing over at you like you were something out of a book he read. It felt like something magical haas happened to him. 

He waited till class was over, to gather his books and waited for you by the door for you. You kept your eyes on the floor rather than looking ahead to see where you were going and buying into him. 

“ Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there” you lift your head to meet his eyes staring at you. A smile appeared on his face and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

“ My name is Eddie, here is your pencil” he says handing it back to you but you push it back to his chest, shaking your head.

“ Keep it, my name is Y/N” 

Since then you and Eddie became the best of friends, eventually you met his Uncle who was surprised at your bright personality and a smile appeared on his face when Eddie introduced you. 

He told his Uncle how nice you were and how you’d look after him, even when the bullies tried to rip the backpack out of his hand. He continued to explain to his uncle how you got detention for landed a punch on the bullies face while Eddie stood there shocked. No one in his life defended him and here you were. 

It wasn’t until high school that you had no idea what you were feeling when you looked at your best friend. Your heart raced, your hands became sweaty, your stomach tied in knots and you enjoyed his company more than anyone’s. He was always making you smile and his dramatics was one of your favorites parts about him. 

His hair grew out in a mane of curls, his big brown doe eyes were so pretty to look at, he started to smoke and selling weed, which he gave you a discount on but he rarely did. He usually gave it to you because you were his best friend and the one person, besides his Uncle that he trusted. 

He wore rings on his fingers and started to play guitar, he was in a band with your other friends Gareth, Jeff and the other one that you keep forgetting his name because he keeps changing how he wants to be called by. 

He wore a jacket combined with a vest with a big Dio patch in the back and his belt buckle was a pair of handcuffs. Not something you’d choose for a belt buckle but this was Eddie. It fits him. 

He was such a sweetheart, always giving you rides wherever you needed to go even though you had your own working car, he was always cracking jokes to make you smile and laugh, he was alway sharing his ideas with you for a new campaign he was writing or sharing lyrics to the songs he was coming up with. 

But you don’t know what the feeling was whenever you were around him, you never had a boyfriend and you always heard about the people Eddie has been hooking up with. A feeling overcomes you when he talks to you about the girls he’s been with, it’s not a very good feeling. There is something burning inside of you and you want it to go away, you feel your heart ripping into pieces and you can’t help but have your eyes glass over. 

You were hurting inside. Why? The answer never comes to you. 

Eddie never imagined in his life that he would feel something let alone for his best friend, there was never someone in his life that he hooked up with or liked that returned his feelings. But something in him changed when he watched you pout when you weren’t having your way and it was the cutest thing he has ever seen. 

He can’t help it when you make him his favorite cookies or cook him a home cook meal, leaving some for his uncle too. His heart speeds up and his stomach turns into knots overcoming with this feeling. He enjoys being around you and making you laugh, it brings him happiness and when he looks at you know, it’s much different than before. He looks at you like he could give you the world and he wants to protect you from anything that could harm you. 

“ You like her” Dustin tells him one day out of the blue. Eddie snaps his head towards him, shaking his head like Dustin was talking crazy talk. 

“ No I don’t” Eddie says. “ There is no way that happened” Dustin gives him a look. 

“ Look, I know when you do. You become soft around her, you want to do the things she wants to do, you listen to her and pay attention and sometimes when one of us is talking, you are too busy thinking about her.” 

“ No I’m not” Eddie says, his cheeks become red. “ I don’t know what your talking about” 

Dustin rolls his eyes and follow Eddie to the drama room. 

“ She most likely feels the same way about you” 

“ How many times do I have to tell you, Henderson? I don’t like her” Eddie stopped walking turning to face Dustin to look at him and wave with his hand. 

“ Sure you don’t” Eddie groaned throwing his head back while he opened the doors where everyone else was already there. 

“ You’re late” Jeff says. Eddie snaps his head towards him. 

“ I’m going to say kindly as I can, don’t piss me off or I’ll kick you out of Hellfire” he sat in his throne, putting his elbows on his knees and his hands together as he looks around the table. 

“ Do I make myself clear?” He asked when no one replied to his other statement. 

“ Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something?” Mike questioned him. The room got silent seeing the gears turning inside Eddie’s eyes as he leaned back in his throne. 

“ You’re skipping next campaign we have, Wheeler” 

“ Oh come on!” Mike threw his hands up, and put his arms across his chest as he glared at Eddie. 

“ I told you Wheeler, you piss me off and there will be consequences” 

“ You should of just shut up” Dustin whispered to him which Eddie clearly didn’t like. 

“ Henderson, I suggest you stop talking over there in hush whispers before I cancel this campaign” Dustin’s eyes grew wide as he quickly turned around his chair. 

Eddie wasn’t in such a good mood after Hellfire, all because he got into his head. Dustin did about you liking him, more in a friendly way. He parked the van in front of his trailer and leaned his back into the seat, sighing to himself. A knock on his window startled him as he jumped staring wide at the window seeing it was you.

You held a hand over your mouth watching him jump. He stepped out of the car, playfully glaring at you. 

“ Jesus Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack” 

“ Almost” you joked but he looked like he wasn’t even in the mood for jokes tonight and your smiled dropped when you saw he wasn’t laughing with you like he normally is. 

“ What’s wrong, Eds?” You nudged his side. “ Did Hellfire go okay?” Something about you asking how his campaign went sent his heart racing. He ran a hand down his face getting into his head again and what Dustin has told him. 

“ Eddie?” Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion to why he was acting like this at the moment. You had never seen him this quiet. 

“ Can we reschedule, sweetheart? I’m not up it and I don’t think I’m feeling to good” you frowned bringing up your hand to check if he had temperature but he was okay. 

“ What hurts?” You asked. Inside Eddie was melting on how much you cared about him and he couldn’t even meet your eye at the moment as he continued to stand there. 

“ Do you want me to make you something? I’m happy to take care of you. We don’t have to watch a movie.” 

Eddie cursed at himself in his head, continuing to melt at your words. You cared so much so maybe Dustin was right. You did like him. No one looked after him or cared this much for him. He’s not used to this. 

“ I think I’ll go to bed, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow” He reaches over to kiss you on your cheek and slips past you making his way to the trailer. 

“ Okay, feel better!” He hears you shout. He acknowledges he hears you by throwing you a thumbs up. You sigh to yourself feeling like you did something wrong to make him upset. He opens the door of the trailer and leans with his back to it once he’s inside, closing his eyes. 

“ Fuck” he mumbles to himself knowing he likes you and these feelings weren’t about to go away. 

You hadn’t talked much to Eddie the following day, he made some excuse up that he couldn’t drive you saying Wayne needed help. But Wayne usually went grocery shopping, wanting to get there early for the warm bread like he usually does. You know Eddie is lying to you which is hurtful seeing how he tells you everything and he’s your best friend.

You see him in your class sitting at the different part of the classroom next to a girl in a cheerleading uniform. She’s twirling her hair at the end of her pony tail and listening to him while he explained his drawings to her. She looks like she’s interested you think to yourself but you weren’t too sure as she popped her gum too. The chewing was the most annoying part you have ever heard. 

Your nose scrunched up as you take your seat. Jason who was sitting in front of you had turned around motion to Eddie.

“ The freak met a new friend, hurts doesn’t it nerd?’ He says with a snicker. You stuck out your middle finger to him and got out your books while your eyes bore into the side of Eddie’s head. 

He knew you were watching him and paid no mind to it because he was shocked in the first time that a cheerleader like Stephanie was paying attention to him. It was like a whole new week came and something has changed.

“ You’re so cute and so funny” Stephanie says, a small giggles coming from her while he puts her manicured hand on his arm. He glances down at it with an unsure chuckle. A beat of sweat appears under his bangs as he swallows. 

“ Uh, thank you” Eddie replies, licking his lips trying to get them to not feel so dry. He’s nervous about it but then catches your eyes when he looks around the room seeing the hurtful look on your face. You quickly glance down at your notebook scribbling down the assignment you needed to work on. 

“ Looks like Stephanie might want a piece of the freak” Jason mumbles, his head turned speaking to you over his shoulder. You breathe deeply through your nose and your jaw clenches in anger. It was like Jason was trying to prove a point that you liked Eddie or something. 

“ Your going to rip the paper, nerd” Jason pointed out glancing down at your paper. You stopped digging the pen into the paper and indeed you were digging hard enough that the ink from the pen was looking blotchy. 

You rose your hand up in the air and the teacher stopped reading her text to look up seeing your hand raised. 

“ Yes, Miss Y/N?” She asked. 

“ Can I go to the nurse please? I feel really light headed”Eddie stopped talking to Stephanie and his eyes turned to glance at you with concern. His eyes roam your face and drops down to your notebook seeing deep drawings of circles that you usually don’t do. Was something wrong? 

He watches you as you stood and head out the door after the teacher lets you go to the nurses office but you head for the bathroom instead, trying to not to cry. You sniffled as the door opens but you are met face to face with a familiar face. 

“ Y/N?” She asks, concern in her tone while she takes a hold of your shoulders and leans down to catch your eye. It’s Robin. 

“ Hey Robin” you wiped your nose with the back of your hand like it was the best thing to do right now and you didn’t really want her to see you cry. But she was.

“ What’s wrong?” She asked pulling you into the bathroom and the both of you sit on the floor with your back to the wall. You bring your knees to your chest while Robin sits with while you try to calm down. You had no idea how long you have been sitting there but you turned your head to meet her gaze. She was still sitting there not caring if she needs to go back to class. 

“ I feel stupid” you start to tell her. She nods urging you to continue as she turns her full body to listen. The door opens and someone walks in but Robin is quick to glare at them. 

“ Piss off!” She shouts, scaring them as they scramble out the door. 

“ Why do you feel like that?” 

“ Because I really thought someone as my best friend would notice me, would think otherwise of me, would see what I see in him.” 

“ And what do you see in him?” She asked. 

“ He’s the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life” you answer her with tears rolling down your cheeks, “ But he’s too busy paying attention to Stephanie Peters to know she’s not good for him. She’s only going to throw him away.” 

What you didn’t know was that Eddie followed you out of the classroom making some excuse that his bladder was too much and he wanted to find where you really went. He heard voices by the girls bathroom and hide against the wall to be unseen. 

“ I think you like him” Robin says to you. Your eyes grew wide and you shook your head.

“ There is no way that I do, he’s my best friend” she nods and throws you a thin smile.

“ You can’t help how you feel, even about your best friend. He might be clueless as they come, all boys are” she shrugged.  

Eddie’s eyes grow wide at your next words, “ I might love him.” 

Robin gives you a glance like if they were the right words that just came out of your mouth and when you don’t say anything else. Then, she knows it must be true. 

“ He’s missing out on you, I know how much of an amazing person you are” 

“ Thank you” you smiled over to her. You were so glad she was there for when you needed someone and you walked right in time in the bathroom. 

“ But we were talking about, Eddie. Right?” 

“ Yes” you nod and she helps you get off the floor. “ What are you going to do?”

“ I think I’m just going to go home. My stomach can’t handle seeing those two together, I mean, Stephanie Peters? Out of all people, Stephanie is the one clawing her way to him.” 

“ I heard her pony tail isn’t even real” Robins says walking out with you, with one arm around your shoulder. 

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek and a smile appears on his face. You love him. He waits till your out of sight with Robin before he pulls away from the wall and jumps in the air, happy for himself. But his eyes grow wide remembering he forgot his stuff in class and hurries to get them before the bell rings and he has to race to his other class. 

Later that night when your reading a book in bed, there is a knock on your window. At first you ignore it seeing if the person was going to go away. They didn’t and continued to knock. You sighed laying the book opened on the bed and looking over the window locking eyes with your best friend who waves. 

“ Go home” you shout to him. Eddie’s face drops and he shakes his head hearing what you told him. “ Let me in, I might freeze” you take notice that he’s not wearing a jacket. He’s only in a shirt that he wore during school earlier. You stood up from the bed making your way to the window and unlatching it, opening it to let him inside. He stepped inside, closing the window when he was in your room and turned to face you.

“ What happened earlier in school? Did Carver say something to you?” You collared on your bed and took the book that you were reading, starting to read again. Eddie frowned when you didn’t talk to him or paid any mind to him. 

“ Come on Y/N” he says sitting next to you on the bed with his legs outstretched out. 

“ Don’t get any dirt on my bed” you tell him motioning to his shoes that he didn’t take off. He slips them off and letting them one by one, drop on the ground.

“ What did I do, sweetheart?” He asked. 

“ Why don’t you go bother Stephanie Peters, I’m sure she’s more fascinating” you muttered flipping the page of your book. A smirk appears on Eddie’s face as he bumps shoulders with your own sending you on your bed.

You sent him a glare, noticing the smirk and adjusting sitting back the way you were sitting. 

“ Are you jealous, sweetheart?” He leaned his face closer that you can feel his breath against your cheek. 

“ Jealous of what?” You tried to pay attention to the word on the book but it was no use because of how close he was to you. 

“ You’re jealous that Stephanie had my attention today” He answered you. His hand falling on top of your knee. 

“ I could care less which next girl you decide to shag” he raises his eyebrow with a small chuckle. “ Who said anything about that?” 

You swallow the lump in your throat and closed the book. 

“ You should go, it’s getting late” you slide off the bed not wanting to be close to him at the moment but he follows as his face drops hearing the distance in your voice. 

“ Sweetheart” he calls out to you, taking a hold of your hand and turns you around seeing the hurt on your face. “ What did I do?” 

You remained silent watching what he was going to do next. He takes a step forward and closes the space between the two of you placing his forehead on yours and wrapping his arms around your waist, he doesn’t want you to step away from him holding you in place. He doesn’t want you to run away from him. 

“ What can I do to make it better?” He asked. He was running out options and he was scared you were going to push him away. Then if you pushed him away, he would lose you. He can’t lose you. 

“ Nothing is wrong” you lie not wanting to talk about this. His hand reaches up to brush away from your face and put some behind your ear. “ Talk to me” His other hand cups your face, holding you in place. But you don’t like this because he doesn’t like you. He’s only making fun of you and your feelings. Someone must of told him. 

“ Stop” you pulled away from him, tears building up in your eyes. He frowns when you step away from letting his hand fall to his side as he gazes at you with worry. 

“ Please go home, Eddie” your voice is shaken, not wanting to look at him. Eddie was about to say something else to you but you pointe towards the window not wanting to see him right now. 

What you were feeling was just too much and you couldn’t handle this emotion. 

“ You know where to find me” Eddie says as he heads out to your window but he stops as he hears the softness of you crying over him. He wants to go back and hold you but he’s respecting your wishes and leaves. 

The next time you see Eddie is at lunch time, and who’s sitting by him and is crawling Into his lap. It’s not other than Stephanie Peters as she wraps her arms around him. The rest of the table looks uncomfortable and you head there with your head held up high, ignoring the stinging in your heart placing your tray in between Jeff and Gareth. They both turned their heads towards you, greeting you. 

Eddie’s eyes falls on you and waits for you to greet him, but you don’t. It silent in his greeting. Stephanie pops her gum as she leans into her hands while she smiles extending her hand to you like you didn’t know her. 

“ Hi, my name is Stephanie but you can call me Steph or S” she says. 

“ I know who you are, we have three classes together” you answer her, not even bothering to shake her hand not knowing where her hand has been. She nods, with a small frown snapping her fingers like she remembers who you are now.

“ That’s right, you’re Y/N” she says. 

“ That would be me” Eddie’s eyes pleaded for you to talk to him but you don’t even look at him. It felt like things were changing and Eddie wanted nothing more than you to talk to him. He canceled Hellfire that night and headed his way to your house knowing you were home since you probably were studying or doing homework. 

He decided not to go through your window this time but ring the doorbell. The door opened to reveal your mom standing on the other side. 

“ Oh Eddie, what a pleasure surprise” she greets him. 

“ Hi Mrs Y/L/N” he greets her, “ how are you doing?” 

“ I’m doing great, I’m sure your not here to talk to me. Y/N is upstairs studying, why don’t you head on up.” 

“ Thank you” he steps inside the door taking off his shoes knowing how your mom is with shoes in the house and sets them besides your own while he heads up the stairs to your room. He finds your door right away already being here a couple of times knowing which room is there. You gave him the tour of the house at one point feeling like he should have it. 

He slowly knocks on your door. 

“ I’m not hungry mom” your voice calls out from the other side. The door opens to reveal that it’s not your mom standing there. It’s Eddie. 

“ What are you doing here?” You questioned him dropping your pencil in between the textbook and closing it. 

“ I wanted to know what’s going on between us” he says making his way into your room, closing the door just a bit. Your eyebrow scrunch together like you have no idea what’s he’s talking about. 

“ I thought we were friends, best friends. What is happening?” You shrugged wanting to go back to your text book and he sees your fingers going for it. Instead, he takes the text book out of your grasp and sits it besides him on the bed. 

“ You’ve been distant and I don’t like it” he says. 

“ I haven’t” you took interest in your nails this time, pretending to look at them and notice something you didn’t like as you played around with your fingers. It’s something you did when you didn’t want to talk to the person. 

“ You have, and I just want my best friend back” he says. His voice hold worry in it close to tears as he was holding them back. 

“ You have a new best friend, why don’t you hang out with them?” 

“ Who?” He asked, his eyebrows scrunched up together in confusion. He stood up from the bed getting a bit frustrated. He was done with having to play this game with you. All he wants is to have you back in his life and hold you in his arms. 

“ I don’t know what your implying Y/N, but my best friend is you” 

“ Stephanie Peters” Eddie throws his hands up in the air, gritting his teeth. He felt like ripping his own hair out when you mention her. 

“ What about her?” Eddie asks. 

“ Oh Eddie… you’re so cute and funny” you were imitating Stephanie with a high pitch voice which sounded close to her, Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle but then you continued and he frowned. His eyes roamed your face seeing the annoyance in your eyes and the jealous flare there. 

“ Jesus Christ” he shouted interrupting your imitation of Stephanie as he stomped over at you, cupping your face with both his hands and your eyes widen at his sudden closeness.

“ What are you doing?” 

“ You don’t need to worry about her” he says as he leans down and somehow he got the courage to kiss you right there. You weren’t expecting it at all to have your best friend and the person that made you feel comfort, to kiss you. It feels so right to have him kiss you. The hands gripping on his wrist made Eddie feel at ease when you started to kiss back. 

He was about to pull away and mumble for you to forget about it and leave. But here was still kissing you like his life depended on it. 

But there was something in him that made him feel like he shouldn’t of kissed you. Why? Because right before coming to see you, he was fooling around with Stephanie Peters. It sort happened. 

He pulled away catching his breathe as he gathered himself as his eyes opened to see your cheeks flushed red and eyes widen. Your lips are plump from kissing him. 

“ Should of kissed you sooner if I have known you were a great kisser, sweetheart” you giggled, playfully pushing his chest. But the frown on your face that appeared made Eddie feel unease as he swallowed prepared for what you were going to say next. 

“ What is this Eddie? I mean, we’re best friends and I don’t want to end losing you if something happens.”

He shakes his head, “ Nothing is going to happen and your not going to lose me” his eyes scanned your face and licked his lips. “ Would you want to go on a date with me, sweetheart?” 

Your mouth was a jar not expecting him to ask you out. You thought this was just one time thing to him but it looks like it’s not. Your heart swelled up watching as his brown doe eyes sparkled as he waited. He looked like a puppy, wagging his tail and waited for an answer or a bone. 

“ I would love to go on one” His eyes brightened tackling you on the bed and kissing you all over your face. You couldn’t stop giggling. 

Eddie did end up dating you on a date, but you didn’t know he was a romantic type planning it all out. He took you out to Lover’s lake where he brought you to a spot where he had some help setting up as you saw Dustin run away shouting, “ have a good time!” 

A blanket was laid out with the scent of burgers and fries from Benny’s hits you.

“ It’s not much” Eddie says scratching the side of his face as he looks away, he was afraid that you might not like this as a first date but it was perfect. Like he was. 

“ It’s perfect” his head turns seeing if you were serious and you were. You had the biggest smile on your face. His heart swelled up for a moment, a flash of guilt washes over his face but it’s gone before you question it. 

But, you saw it. 

“ After you m’lady” he bows down with his hand extend as you placed your hand in his. He helped you onto the blanket, and sat next to you with his lunchbox by his side. His hair was tied back today with some loose curls hanging from his face and he wore a Black Sabbath shirt with black pants with holes on his knees, and his Reeboks. 

“ I didn’t know what sauce to get you. I went to just ketchup”he says handed you one burger and one set of fries. Your fingers brushed against his causing you to blush. He got his own out and you waited until he unwrapped his burger to start yours. 

He took the first bite noticing with curious eyes why you hadn’t started to eat.

“ What’s wrong? Did I forget something?” He asked, his cheeks holding food as he waited. 

“ No, I wanted to wait for you to eat” He swallowed his food and poked your nose. 

“ You’re silly girl, you could of ate without me” you shrugged. 

“ I thought it was the polite thing to do” Eddie laughed as he took out the drinks, forgetting they were behind him. “ Forgot these, here” he hands your drink over. Little spills drop onto the blanket. 

“ Oh no” you moved away trying to wipe it off with one of the napkins you found but Eddie stops you with his hand on top of yours.

“ Don’t worry about it, sweetheart” he says sending you a gentle smile and raising your hand up to his lips. “ I will handle it later” he adds. 

You happily began to eat and took small sips of your drink feeling eyes on you. Suddenly you get self conscious of him watching you eat. 

“ Do I have something on my face?” You set your drink down and bring your hand up to wipe something that you thought on your face when he reaches over with thumb to wipe away the corner of your mouth. He brings it towards his mouth, licking off the ketchup he got there. 

Your eyes widen, cheeks going flush. 

“ U-uh thanks” 

He chuckled mumbling how cute you were as he continued to eat. When you were finished, you balled it into a ball and placed it into the bag that had the burgers in. Eddie tied the bag together and put it on the side before he laid down with his back on the blanket. He patted the side next to him for you to lay down. 

You follow before turning to the side to face him as he follows you. The wind blows his strands causing them to fall into his eyes. You reach with your hand to brush them away, gently touching his cheeks too and he closes his eyes. 

His stomach is doing flips at the moment. Because he loves spending time with you and this was special. The other, is that he’s dreading you to find out about Stephanie when he lied to you telling you there isn’t anything between them.

“ You know, I never imagined us going on a date. Let alone like this” he moved closer that you feel his breath on your face. 

“ Why is that?” He asked. 

“ You’re beautiful, Eddie and I didn’t think I was the girl you’d want to be with one day” 

It took him a moment to answer, first hearing you call him beautiful was very rare to him. His cheeks were flushed red as he bite down on his bottom lip and then his eyebrows knitted together. 

“ What? Have you seen you? I mean, you’re gorgeous, sweetheart. I could kiss you all day if I could” 

“ Why don’t you?” He brought himself a bit on his elbow as he hovered above you and you turned that you were on your back. He brushed the strands away from your face, gazing down at you with his brown doe eyes. He sighed happily and leaned down, his lips brushing against your own before they danced together as one. 

Your stomach tied in knots as you kissed him, placing your hands on his cheeks feeling his cheeks still hot from blushing at your comment. You were really happy he asked you out and kissed you yesterday. 

But you felt like something felt a little different. Like something that you wouldn’t like. 

It wasn’t until the following week were you understood what the feeling was. You stared mouth wide opened, hiding behind the bleachers was Eddie with his hands on a girl’s waist as he tugged her closer, his lips were dancing with her own. Her hair was what caught your eye sight. You knew that hair and the way she styled it every other week.

Blood began to boil at the sight of two. You felt betrayed and hurt. Eddie pulled away from Stephanie to catch his breath, not nothing that you were watching them. 

“ I don’t know if we should continue this” Eddie says. 

“ Oh don’t be boring” she lowered the zipper of her hoodie showing off her tits to him that popped out. He gasped and his hands went to grab them and she stopped him.

“ If you want them, and this then I suggest you quiet and put your mouth to work” she says. “ On your knees” his eyes widen. 

You were sick to your stomach by now and the crunch underneath your feet altered them that someone was there.

“ Who’s there?” Stephanie asked as she zipped up her hoodie looking around to spot who possibly is watching. Eddie stands up as he notices the foot that sticking out from the hiding spot and his heart crashes into his stomach. His breath hitches as he gulps.

You knew. 

You turned around as you hurried away from the scene with tears building up in your eyes. How could he? After everything, the date, the kiss, the kisses shared between the two of you, the “ there is nothing between us and you thought you could trust him. 

He disgusted you. 

You wiped the tears away from your eyes running past Jason and his basketball goons.

“ Woah, what’s the rush there?” Jason shouted. They laughed saying something while your feet carried you into the school and past Robin who ran after you to the front doors of the school where you held your hands on your knees, tears running down your cheeks and trying to catch your breathe. 

“ Y/N?” Another voice shouted and you knew it was him. Robin glared over at him sensing he had something to do with your running and tears in your eyes.

“ What did you do, Munson?” She pointed a finger in his face and clenched her jaw. She was ready to sock him in the face if it was needed. 

He pushed past her to reach out to touch you when you angrily pulled away. 

“ How long?” You asked. “ How long have you been doing her and trying to get with me?” 

Eddie was in loss at words as he rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t know how to answer the question without hurting you than he already was. 

“ How long?! How long did you plan to keep this up without me finding out?” 

“ Since the first date” he answered, “ I didn’t meant to hurt you. It just happened” he says with a shrug. That little shrug he did notified you that he didn’t really care about you or your feelings. 

“ I hate you” you spatted. His eyes got wide as he shook his head. His own eyes building with tears. 

“ I’m so sorry” he says, “ I never meant to hurt you, sweetheart.”

“ Don’t call me that, don’t you dare” he stepped back hearing your tone get louder. “ What can I do to fix this?” 

Tears ran like waterfalls down his cheeks. 

“ You can’t fix this, we were nothing. I was so stupid to even like you. Maybe I should get with Jason and see how you like it.” 

His eyes harden hearing the mention of his bully. 

“ Is that the game you wanna play now?” He asks. 

“ You’ve been playing it, and guess what? You won. You won the right for me to hate you, Munson.” 

“ You don’t mean that” 

“ Oh I do, go back to Stephanie. I hope she was worth breaking my heart over it” Robin steps in as she says she called Steve to come pick you up. You had taken your bike home, she was going to come with you to make sure your okay. 

Eddie wanted to fix this but he stood there watching you walk to the other side of the parking lot where Steve Harrington’s BMW was pulling up and you got into the back seat. Steve rode around and flipped Eddie once the window was down as Robin informed him what he had done. 

“ Yeah, you too!” Eddie shouted flipping off Harrington’s car as he drove away. 

[syaolaurant]

Hogwarts Legacy inspired me to draw and have fun joining fandom again 

Warning: Long!!! and this is just my random talk.

I've been using this account for 3 years now (may be 4, I don't remember correctly). I created this blog mostly for posting my The Arcana fanart, and get to know very talented artists/writers and their Apprentices. That time was super fun, joining a fandom helped my drawing/water-coloring skill improve a lots. And another reason why I was so active at that time is because I was in a long-distance relationship, I didn't have much to do after work except playing games and draw, haha, like everyday. 

And then after 8 years of dating we broke up, because I could not leave everything behind and come to Australia to live with him without marriage. I quitted my job at a travel agency after the covid 19 second outbreak in Vietnam. Anyway, that is when I lost my willing to draw. I still logged on Tumblr thou, occasionally, but I just didn't have the feeling to hold my brushes again. At the same time Nyx Hydra was acquired by Dorian, The Arcana is not the same anymore. I still love the original story but I refuse to play the new stories on Dorian app. The fandom friends I know on Tumblr also deactivated. So I stopped drawing & left the fandom for almost 2 years.

Still I was lucky, early 2021 I found a new job in gaming industry, and met my husband there. It didn't take us several years to decided to get marriage. Last year was super busy, and I still play games, like alots. Genshin Impact, Baldur Gate 3, Red Dead 2, Tiny Tina's Wonderland...They're wonderful, but none of those ignited my willing to draw again. I couldn't explain , I tried to make fanart but always left the piece unfinished...

Until last month my husband bought me Hogwarts Legacy.

I've known about the game since its release, but didn't purchase it until this year due to my personal schedule and I wanted to finish other game first. Playing HL is different, like I see my 15 year old self stepping into the world I wish I could be there but couldn't. I was so excited! So many time I ran around the castle (casting revelio repeatedly and) shouting to my husband about how beautiful the environment is. And I met Sebastian, I thought he's cool but still didn't pay much attention on him until he took me to Felcroft. And all the shadow questline, all the lost and tragedies, the unfinished ending (why Avalanche?). So it has been decided, I wanted to be a part in this fandom, there are so many things could have been added in the game but the dev decided to throw them away, I needed to pick up my pencil and brushes.

And I'm glad I did. It's been 2 years since I joined a fandom and I almost forgot how fun it is. I've met so many nice artists who warmly welcomed me, and whose fanarts are too good that push me to improve my own drawing. I've read many beautiful fanfics that made me sobbing and giggling. It's like I've found the feelings I lost, and I want to thank you all for that.

Damn this post is too long already....

What I tried to say is, I don't know how long I will be here until my personal life pull me away again. But right now I'm on fire and I'm happy HL took me back here. After all I appreciate seeing you guy's contents everyday, and your nice comments whenever I posted something on Tumblr. I hope you don't mind if I post everything on this blog not only HL but also abit of my personal life, I just don't see the need to create another side ones. To end this post, here's the view from my company windows :"D

[sgiandubh]

Hello good afternoon! On Sam's part, we already have some speculation there in Mordor (will we have a Barbie Fitness revival?). But what about IFTA? Will we have a two-pronged attack this weekend?

Dear IFTA Anon,

The IFTA event is in Dublin, on April 20th. Next week, not this week-end.

For the moment, we have Landcon in Paris on Saturday and yup, he registered for the Cologne Hyrox on Sunday:

And so is Mrs. Xena, what a surprise:

Of course she geotagged herself, aaah-ing and oooh-ing near the Dome. Ha. Ha.

After all, she told Herr Lederhosen, her Bavarian fan Numero Uno, she was going to race PRO at Hyrox Cologne, hashtag lonewolf, hashtag Club Flamingo (but afterwards, LOL) - more about this, here: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/744955031835541504/out-of-the-ol-bubble?source=share

If you care to see the event's agenda, you'll notice Hyrox PRO women is very short (I have no clue why, ask me about Pre-Raphaelites, instead) and almost simultaneous with the beginning of the Men's race, where S competes. Cue in salacious comments from *urv, I think we should expect at least that.

On the flip side, a revival would be very farfetched, taking into account that Daily Fail article which portrayed him as a Raya lookin' for a hookin', elite available man (LOL for years). PR might be a bitch, but never does something like that without a reason.

Fingahs crossed for that Flamingo Club. Oh, and pour la bonne bouche, she even told us where she is staying in Cologne:

A 'full appartment with kitchen' and thank you Primal (paid partnership, of course) for today and the ESN hotel, starting tomorrow. Here is an interesting clue, just in case anyone pre-empts the fanfic and imagines a kama-sutra side event in one of the numerous hôtels de charme of Cologne.

There is no ESN hotel (yes, I looked, Deutschland and her beauty are not my forte) in town. The ESN she is talking about is Elite Sports Nutrition, a German fitness supplements company (https://int.esn.com/) prominently featured at FIBO 2024 (same dates, roughly, same place):

They pay for the room and she doesn't even know or care where the hotel is.

So long for the fish, Anon. That settles it for me. Also, for having participated several times at different high-level events organized by the German authorities (think EU ministerial summit level), I can tell you these people do not joke about accommodation, transfers and registration formalities: this is very strict and very, very effective. Best organization in the world and I know something about it.

*fondly and suddenly remembers her miraculous long week-end at the Adlon Hotel, in Berlin, circa 2007 *

[Later edit]: Told you. *urv already wrote Chapter 13 of Fitness at Dawn. It's based in Cologne:

*bangs head against wall*

[rxverriess]

God, I'm not your strongest soldier

୨୧‥∵‥‥∵‥‥∵ ‥‥ 🐈‍⬛ ‥‥∵‥‥∵‥‥∵‥୨୧

Summary: Running away from the past is already challenging, and now the girl I never thought would acknowledge me has something against me and wants me to work for her. It could have been worse, but at least I'll get paid... but at what cost? Let's see how working for Aeri will turn out for the better or the worse. Hell, maybe even both. Pairing: Aeri (Giselle) x Fem! Reader Featuring: Yeonjun (TXT) and Woo Young (Ateez) Warning: Brief self-harm mention, Blackmail, Cursing A/N: Hello everyone :3!!! I finally finished writing and making this story and currently working on the next chapter (if this story turns out well ^^; ) thank you very much for your patience and I hope you enjoy this upcoming series. I was very inspired by @rosemaeridream story "Hate is no better than Love" (which I very much recommend and send love to the author) This is my first ever time writing fanfic, and would love to receive some feedback and criticism would be nice to make the storyline more smoother and enjoyable to read :D. Thank you again and hope you like this! Credits: dividers by @dollywons

I have always struggled to find a career path since I was young. Nothing has interested me, no matter how hard I try. I have hobbies, don't get me wrong but I never really saw them as career paths, even if I did my passion would be shut down by my parents saying “That's not a career (Y/N) that's just a little hobby, you should be earning money from it.” But what if I did see them as a career? Imagine opening my gallery, selling my artwork, and making a name for myself in the art world. 

 But as if right now I’m sitting in my finance lecture trying my best not to have a complete mental breakdown. Seriously, why did I sign up for this? I'd honestly rather marry an eighty-year-old dude who's guaranteed to cheat on me with younger women than endure this professor’s constant coffee slurping and forgetfulness. And wouldn't you know it, my earbuds decided to die on me. As I glanced around the room, I couldn’t help but observe my classmates – someone was playing Papa's Freezeria, a diligent note-taker, and Aeri who made eye contact with me... Wait what. I must be seeing things because I couldn’t possibly get her attention on me, like what did I do? She looked up and down at me then turned around and went back talking to her friends. Weird. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about how Aeri. Uchinaga Aeri made eye contact with me? Aeri was a very….interesting person the nicest way I could describe her. She was very cocky, arrogant, and from what I heard also toxic. She leads on girls thinking they could have a chance with her, only to find out she just wanted to get something out of them and then break their hearts in the cruelest way possible or how boys fond over her to the point that they carve her name on their thigh or even worse commit suicide. It's no wonder she's got such a big ego. I mean, who wouldn't, with all the boys and girls falling over themselves to impress her, copy her, and just generally bask in her glory? She's practically a campus legend. And let's not forget her family's "old money" background – her great-great-great grandfather's company has been keeping her in the lap of luxury for generations.

But why was she staring at me? I never really cross paths with her unless it’s some snarky comments about my presentation whenever I present or how I was always not paying attention in class

“And that’s it for today's class, please make sure to submit your spreadsheet project by the end of the day which is due at midnight, and don't you dare email me over the weekend saying you lost progress on it or experiencing technical issues while submitting it. Have a good day” as the professor leaves the classroom. “Well shit,” I thought I haven't even touched the project yet here I was daydreaming about Aeri the entire class period. 

No. No, I wasn’t. I was just caught off guard that's all, I would never think about her like that. She barely even knows I exist and it's going to stay like that.

It was now 9:00 PM, and I found myself in the library, attempting to break free from procrastination. Even glancing at the graph is causing me a headache. I took another sip of my third energy drink can and attempted to input the numbers from the graph when my computer suddenly slammed shut, nearly crushing my fingers.

“What the hell? What is your prob-” My mouth stopped as soon as I saw the person who was standing in front of me. Aeri.

“Um hi A-” 

 “You’re (Y/n) (L/n)?” she said cutting me off mid-sentence

“Yeah? I’m in your finance class…” I looked up at her, catching me by surprise at how she knew my name.

"I have a proposition for you," she said. "I'm looking for a photographer to take my modeling photos. And I stumbled upon your page and I have to say, your pictures are... decent."

 She didn't even bother to make eye contact with me while speaking to me. It seemed like it was a struggle for her to compliment my work.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Well, Aeri, I'd love to work for you, but only if money is involved," I replied with a straight face. "Wow, aren't you greedy?" she scoffed in amazement that I had the nerve to ask for payment. "You get to work for me and all you care about is how much I'll pay you?"

 “My time and work aren't for free and even if I were with the most famous person I would still charge them, I have a student debt to pay off not to mention my rent. And besides you come from a wealthy family how come you can’t find a professional photographer to take your pictures?”

“It's just” She pauses for a moment as if she is going to say something she shouldn't say “My family can’t know about this and that is all I’m going to say to you because it's none of your business” she smiled at me as she said that almost feeling like I was being threatened 

"Even if I had a private photographer, there's a good chance they would try to expose me to get more money from my family," she said, almost mumbling that last part. She got up from her chair and came over to my side. As if the atmosphere just changed out of nowhere, why am I so tense? It's like the Grim Reaper is about to take my life away from me any second now. As she leaned on the edge of the table, making eye contact with me, she continued, "Besides you really can’t say no to me either way”

“What can you have that I can’t say-”

 Then the room went silent when she pulled up a video. The video I’ve tried to run away from. The video I tried to avoid. The video that Aeri is holding that ruined my life in high school to the point I moved states away from home when I was applying to college. 

Was it expensive to the point my parents wouldn’t financially support me? Yes. All because of a video. Pretty much. But yet here I am seeing how Aeri using this video against me. I just wanted to run away from it like how I’ve been doing for the longest time.

“Aeri,” I said with a stern voice, not trying to get my anxiety the best of me “Where the hell did you get that video from”

“Oh this” she held her phone up and smiled at me “I have some connections but that’s not important right now because now I have you in a position where you really can’t say no to me” She had a huge grin on her face that I just wanted to slap it off. 

Red. I saw red at that moment. Why? Just why? Why is this happening to me now? Who the hell does she think she is? I thought I could simply just run away from it and be done with it but I guess not. I just wanted to leave and run far away from this world but felt stuck in my mind and couldn't even leave the chair as if someone put glue on it. When I looked up from Aeri, she was standing there, looking down on me like I was prey to her.

“Fine” is all I could say to her, not after the stunt she pulled out on me. I felt tired from that moment and all I wanted to do was just go to my apartment, lay in bed, and never wake up but unfortunately, not everyone can have that.

"Glad we agreed then," she said as she grabbed her stuff. Before she turned to leave, she added, "Oh, and one more thing” She handed me a sticky note with her number on it. "Text me if you have any questions or something, but don't text me too much. Otherwise, we'll only communicate by email, okay? Bye," she said then walked out of the library as if she hadn't just blackmailed me.

Fucking great just great (y/n) now look at what you got yourself into now. Not only you're going to be working for her and she has shit on you as well. Wow, I got the best of both worlds, didn't I? 

The train ride was very silent on my way to my apartment, my leg kept bouncing up and down as I stared out the window with headphones on that I always kept a spare but even so the music couldn’t even calm my thoughts down.

ding

The announcement came on telling passengers of the next stop and to be ready to depart. I grabbed my stuff and stood in front of the door. I kept looking at myself in my reflection. And all I saw was a sixteen-year-old me looking distraught and disappointed. If only I could've hugged her and told her everything would be alright. But even she knows I'm lying to myself.

As I finally arrived at my apartment door where I already heard two of my roommates being very loud and obnoxious (as usual). I opened the door where I saw Woo Young and Yeonjun playing video games and being extremely competitive with each other in the living room.

As I step inside, I drop my keys in the bowl and slip off my shoes, tucking them away in the cubby before slipping into my house slippers. 

"Guys, don't start roughhousing because I don't want to spend a month without a TV like last time," I yelled as I was in the kitchen trying to find something to eat, even though I had lost my appetite after that whole day. I simply grabbed a yogurt and headed to the living room to grab my bag.

“Jeez you look like shit” claimed Woo-young as he kept looking at me and then back at the screen. “Thanks” I replied as I was walking towards my room.

“Hard day in class?” yeonjun asked without taking his eyes off the TV, getting more aggressive with the controller 

“Trust me that wasn’t even half of what happened today but I would appreciate it if you guys keep it down please I just want to sleep and hope this entire day was just a dream,” I said, knowing I got weird looks from them but turned down the volume a bit.

As I finally changed into my pajamas, I settled into bed and stared at the ceiling, recapturing what the fuck just happened today. I was simply minding my own business finishing my project, which I didn’t even get to finish but at this point why does it matter I just got blackmailed by the most popular girl on this campus, and worse I have to fucking work for her now. Memories of our brief encounter at the library began flashing through my mind.

My mind lingers to slumber as I try to hide away from these bad thoughts and sleep where I'm not running away from everyone and everything. 

I promised her that.

[monpalace]

ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, (linked universe) time/reader.

content .. it's only natural you search for your nephew after he enters the lost woods on a dare. you can't have a problem with the hand dealt to you when the beast who gives you shelter is so kind.

warnings .. no beta, we die like the promise i made to finish this before the summer after my junior year ended (i started this in april, it's august). i didn't know where i was going with this after a certain point and i think that's obvious. reader uses she/her pronouns. large, legal age gap (reader is in her 30's - 40's, time is a few hundred years old). less of a fic and more snippets, but it's almost 7.5k+ words. i don't think i explicitly say which link it is, so i guess it's ambiguous? nephew is named because this would be a pain to write otherwise.

notes .. prompted (not inspired!!) by beauty and the beast, but also the batb fanfic i found after my friend showed my an nsfw ao3 tag account on twitter. beelzebub / lord of the flies from fear and hunger was a huge inspo for link / time's physical description but there is leeway for how he can be envisioned. he's still large as shit though lmao. the layout of the manor was this, only because i wouldn't be able to write this without knowing.

supposedly there's gonna be a second part. supposedly.

idk. i might hate this enough to just. not.

The Lost Woods wasn't as intimidating as everyone talked it up to be.

Yes, it felt like the trees moved when you turned your back to them, and, granted, there were a few mobs of monsters that could get the jump on you if you weren't paying attention, but you had managed to get away with a few scrapes the few times it had happened.

The only thing to keep you company was the howling winds that grew in intensity and your own thoughts that were sprawling into whatever corners they could reach, but that was fine. You'd gratefully take decades-old gossip from the next town over instead of the creeping paranoia of what was behind you.

Of course, you would willingly go through this, that, and whatever else one thousand times over if it meant finding your nephew— and to keep yourself from reprimanding yourself from reprimanding the teens that had dared him out into the woods, but that was another thing.

Along your investigation, you'd found a broken trail of breadcrumbs that led to nothing when you followed them. They were torn pieces of fabric from his clothes, just big enough to be noticeable but small enough to keep himself protected from the elements.

(You'll forever be thankful that a younger your drilled the idea into his head.)

You'd long since discovered calling his name was useless. The only thing you've managed to do was draw the attention of a few wandering stalfos dressed in clothes from centuries ago.

The ones that had managed to find weapons were always the most painful to deal with.

If your determination weren't so established, you would've lost your sanity within the first day.

Food and water were no issue, you were smart enough to pack more than a week's worth of both. There were non-perishable options and several choices for your nephew when you found him; he'd no doubt have his fair share of cravings after being lost for so long.

(Three days was an eternity to you.)

Just before the sun had reached its crest in the sky, you'd realized that there were more empty clearings than trees. Wildlife had become scarce as well.

Where deers and wolves previously ran abundant, birds and squirrels that ran from the smallest of noises replaced them.

The wind had calmed, at least. It no longer wanted to push and shove you in whatever direction it pleased or steal the bag full of items you brought along. You didn't have to hug your sweater to your chest in fear of it being ripped from your arms either.

Instead, it was still.

Admittedly, the clearing gives you more paranoia than anything else.

When your mind starts to wander to places you'd rather it not reach, you begin to hum a quiet tune to yourself— your nephew's favorite— and allow it to ground you.

You were here for a reason. You wouldn't leave until you found him. You'll be fine until you find him, and you'll find some way to live in the forest that refuses to let its inhabitants go peacefully.

It's hours later when you hear the first sound of life (or suspended death) that doesn't feel like a threat— though, in hindsight, you should've been smarter and more suspicious of it when you first heard it.

A high-pitched instrument repeats each croon you let out, eventually taking over and silencing you. You follow the tune without much of a thought. If it were some sort of elaborate trap to lure you in, you couldn't be mad at yourself if you fell for it.

Clusters of trees become less and less as you follow the instrument and its recreation of your nephew's song. You call his name and are met with nothing but the music (from an ocarina, you quickly recognize) growing louder as time passes.

To say you're shocked when a large and, admittedly, well-kept manor enters your field of view would be an understatement. It's covered in vines, invasive arrowroots, and spreading flowers, but looks lived in if the smoldering smoke slowly dissipating in the afternoon air was anything to go by.

You couldn't begin to imagine who lived inside before the woods took it over (or what lived in it now). The architecture says it predates the Hero split in four, but you doubted the inhabitants of the floating sky built something so elaborate when they returned to the surface.

Your eyes jump past the crumbling pillars and dilapidated statues to the half-glass double doors that seemed to open on their own.

The music was coming from inside the manor now.

Steeling your nerves and squaring your shoulders, your hand grips tight on the strap of your satchel as you walk up the stone stairs covered in moss. You have to hold onto the guardrail installed next to it just as tight. Looking down, you find the carvings of it sorely separating it from the older antiquity of the manor.

Taking in smaller details (for future escapes or weapons against whatever lived inside, you'd figure out later), you find that the small pools of water that came from the sides of the manor and ran and fell alongside the stairs you climbed held small clumps of straw-colored fur. Some caused the surrounding water to turn into a pink hue that reminded you of fairies you've seen in childrens' books.

(Your hand reaches into the satchel to make sure you brought all of your nephew's well-loved books as well as a novel or two for yourself.)

(You did, thankfully.)

There's a smell filled with musk that permeates the air the closer you get to the manor, thick with amber and ginger and it reminds you of the times you come across a pack of wolves during your childhood.

Upon entering the manor, you find it was strongest in the wing of the manor to your right. It took over almost the entirety of your senses, but it wasn't an unwelcome or overwhelming sensation. If you paid close enough attention, you could sense the homely feeling underneath the ferality of it.

You prayed you'd be able to tell when the beast returned; if it was gone in the first place.

You take close note of how the foyer wasn't truly a foyer with how it was filled with windows rather than walls that led to a courtyard and how the only way to enter the wings of the manor was the winded stairs that connected via the terrace.

You don't fail to notice how the wing coated in the musky scent is coated entirely in shadows despite all the sources of light.

You couldn't decide if you were thankful or filled with loathing at the idea of what roamed on that side of the manor.

It's a struggle to turn your eyes away from the darkened wing of the manor, but you do manage when the music picks up once more from the left wing. It's significantly brighter and doesn't fill you with a sense of dread as the right one does.

Trap be damned, your nephew was here, you knew it— you felt it.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you find that you're inside a parlor room that leads to three other pathways. One was a library, another was a dining room, and the last was a small hallway.

In any other situation, you'd explore some more. The supposed beast that possibly lived in the manor kept everything in better shape than what you'd expect— or hopefully it was the forest spirits that lived throughout the forest.

Hopefully, those same spirits kept your nephew safe.

You have to close your eyes to better determine where the music is coming from, the only thing you can hear beside it and your own breathing being the manor settling. Your ears guide you inside the hall and you find it branches into a corridor, a bathroom, and two bedrooms.

Common sense seems to leave you when you spot the back of your nephew's head. Your breath quickens as you watch him clap along with the ocarina, you force your eyes to keep their clarity when you hear him hum each note just as you remember.

"''ire," you call in a weaker voice than you intended or thought you had. The nickname he claimed he hated so much tumbled from your lips so easily as you rushed inside the room, one arm rushing to remove your satchel while the other reached out to almost check if he was real.

The Lost Woods were known for their tricks, after all.

When he turns to face you, he's scrambling over himself in the bed. You're able to see how he limps on his right ankle and knee, how the entirety of his limbs were wrapped in bandage wrap as though done by a child. There was no blood, so you hold off on checking him over.

(The bandages were stained, thankfully not with blood. It was mostly dust and grime.)

(You'd have to sanitize whatever was wrong.)

You meet him more than halfway when you catch the way he winces and hisses with each movement.

"Auntie— Auntie— Titi!" His voice is airy as he speaks, emotion causing his words to come out as chokes. His arms reciprocated the tight hug you had on him, forcibly keeping his arms from trembling due to either nerves or injuries. "Titi, Titi, Titi!"

The way he says the word makes him sound like some chittering bug. If you listened hard enough, you could tell how his teeth clattered together, but you couldn't decipher if it was from a chill or emotion.

All you wanted to do was keep his head against the crook of your shoulder and neck while you pressed kisses to the crown of his head and kept him as close to you as you could, but you knew better.

Pulling away, you reach back for the satchel that you previously discarded. "What's wrong? What happened?" You force your voice to even out when you speak, hands already reaching for his arms after you sit the bag against your hip.

He shakes his head, but you've known him long enough to know there was something wrong. "They're from when I first went in the forest," he answers, voice quivering. "It's all healed. I think."

He doesn't push your hands away or pull his arms back when you skillfully unravel the bandages, carefully pulling and prodding the scars that littered the skin, and he was telling the truth despite the coloring.

"Did you forage like I taught you? Why are most of them green?"

"The spirits."

"The spirits?"

"And the soldier." He looks over your shoulder as though searching for their figures. "I haven't seen him yet, though."

Your eyes squint as one of your hands rubs over the strange texture of the scar, the other reaching for the antiseptic and clean fabric in your bag. "Are these spirits children or small trees with masks?"

You'd heard of both in legend. No one's ever seen them.

You're not sure which you'd rather watch over your nephew.

His eyes drift to his side before peering back over your shoulder once again. His brows furrow as he thinks of how to answer, head tilting as his pupils dilate.

"Both," he answers, "and ones that look like scarecrows. I asked them to bring you."

You force your gaze to keep itself on your nephew. You wouldn't let it wander to spirits you couldn't even see. "The ocarina?" You instead ask another question jumping around your mind, sucking your tongue in appreciation when he nods. "Smart boy."

An airy laugh leaves him, his face lighting up with a smile. "Learned from the best," he snorts.

You risk pressing kisses to the apples of his cheeks and forehead at his flattery, hands cupping themselves on the nape of his neck to bring him closer.

A younger him would push you away without a second thought, whining on about how you were embarrassing him in front of his friends.

He lets you do so now regardless of the spirits that surround you both.

"What've you been eating?" Your hands drop to his biceps when you pull away. They weren't thin like you'd expect them to be after three days in the forest; they were fatter than they had been before he left. "Who's been feeding you?"

His answer of "the Soldier," is quicker than you would've liked. "He goes out and hunts. He always brings back meat. I think it's deer.. it tastes.. bland."

"He.. cooks it, right?"

Another laugh wracks through your nephew's body. He knows you're only being cautious, but he can't help it.

"All the way through," he hums, flexing his arms when they start feeling stiff. "I think I don't like it because it's not your cooking."

He knows what your response is going to be before he finishes speaking, years of having lived under your guidance making him attuned to the smallest of your movements.

When your expression shifts from being relieved to disappointment with a twitch of your eye, he can tell you're not pleased with his statement.

Dousing the fabric in the antiseptic, you take his arm in your hand and begin wiping it down. "Don't be rude." Your voice takes on a less-than-pleased rasp, speaking lowly as if you knew the Soldier was near; but you still apologize when the sting sets in. "Have you thanked him?"

(You're sure you would continue to speak quietly regardless of the context of the conversation. You didn't want to risk "the Soldier," doing anything unfavorable.)

(Your nephew's words of praise did little to ease your stressed heart.)

"I never know when he's here. He drops the food off while I'm asleep. He brings books and carvings too." He watches as you wrap his arm in another roll of (cleaner) bandages, undoing the old one on his other arm while you prepare another piece of fabric. "The Spirits say I'm the most excitement he's had in a while, so he doesn't mind."

His voice was beginning to grow hoarse from speaking so quietly. You tap his throat to tell him to relax.

"They say he's nice," he continues, doing as told. Tapping the fingers of his now free hand against your shin, he tries to recall what all they've told him.

"I think they said he used to live in another part of the woods when he was a kid?—" His eyes glance back over your shoulder, suddenly becoming sure of himself. "— Ah. They did. They said he left and came back when he was older."

You raise a brow but don't speak your question.

Your nephew takes hold of your retreating hands in both of his.

A clatter and snippy huff outside the bedroom door rouses you from your light sleep.

Nearing a week into your stay at the manor, you'd think you'd be more accustomed to the noise, but you aren't.

You carefully remove your nephew's head from your arm, using even more caution when trying to remove the conjoined weight of several spirits from your legs as you slip out of the bed.

It's hard, but you manage to do so without waking any of them— you hope.

(You still couldn't see any of the Spirits, but over time you could feel when they crowded around you and when the wind moved as they rushed past you.)

The floorboards creak beneath your feet.

You hear the sound of claws scratching against the floor on the other side of the door.

Pressing the crown of your head against the door, you tap your fingers along the handle to give the Soldier a warning and wait a few moments.

If you listened hard enough, you swear you could hear him scurrying into one of the other rooms before he shut the door behind him.

It reminded you of a dog.

Smiling to yourself, you're careful opening the door, keeping your head to it and your eyes on the floor. You turn to the other side of it to close it, waiting for the click of the lockset to speak.

"Are you decent?"

His confused "huh," sounds more akin to a gasp than any other noise.

You rap your fingers against the handle again. "Can I look up?"

"Oh—" he sounds choked. "Yeah— Yes. Yes. You can. Sorry."

"Thank you," you hum, leaning down to pick up the tray of food. It consisted of almost entirely meat with a few vegetables you figure are exclusive to the woods. "For both the food and taking care of my nephew."

There was a thumping noise behind the door, the frequency of it was like a tail beating excitedly.

The Soldier lets out a croaking noise and you know his mouth started moving before his mind was able to catch up. "No, I should thank you for looking for him— and for telling him not to use his name."

You let out an airy laugh. "It's common knowledge where I'm from. I wouldn't be a good parental figure if I didn't."

Another noise leaves the Soldier as you fix yourself to open the door. You can't discern what this one means. "I don't know when they started calling me the Soldier, but it's not— uhm.. A favorite.. of mine."

"Oh?"

"Soldier," he sounds more confident in himself and you don't have the heart to tell him you heard him the first time, "it's a nickname. I don't know where the kids got it, but I don't like it."

Readjusting the tray to rest against your hip and forearm rather than in both your hands, you hum curiously. "So what should we be calling you?"

He pauses longer than you'd think it'd take to remember your own name, but you wait.

"Link."

"Link?"

"Yes."

"Like in a chain?"

".. Yes."

You nod even though you're sure he can't see you. "I'll be sure to tell 'ire."

"Thank you." There's more thumping from behind the door.

"And thank you."

There's another noise from Link you struggle to understand, but you figure it's because he starves for conversation. "I heard what your nephew said about the food, too. I'll try to find something to flavor it with next time I'm out."

"Thank you," you repeat. Your eyes curve with your smile. "He'll greatly appreciate it."

Link raps his fingers against the door in response, but he doesn't say anything. You take that as your queue to reenter the bedroom.

"How come your side of the house is always dark?"

You gently pinch your nephew's elbow and he swats your hand away, leaning impossibly close to the door that separates him and Link.

There are a few moments of silence from the man that 'ire filled with bated breath. Link takes an audible, steadying breath before knocking what you think is his nail against the door.

"I wouldn't want to scare you both off."

It was an answer you expected, but you were disappointed nonetheless.

"Boo," your nephew groans. You're sure Link could hear the pout in his voice if the quiet chuckle he lets out was anything to go by. "You can't be worse than what I've seen out there."

There's genuine intrigue in the noise Link lets out. "Oh? What exactly have you seen then?"

Pure excitement fills your nephew's expression when he turns to look at you from over his shoulder. His fingers tap against the floor restlessly, tongue already listing off whatever monsters he's encountered (read: come up with) in his twelve years of life.

"— but their teeth are the worst! They're poisonous and there isn't a cure for it!"

You have no clue as to what creature he was talking of now. There were at least fifteen of them who injected poison through their teeth, eight of which had no cure.

(You don't have to strain as hard to see the Spirits as you did two weeks ago. The shadows and light shift around then as they move to sit around your nephew, seemingly hooked on your nephew's every word.)

(You remember when he would crowd himself around you similarly whenever you would tell him a story.)

You close the book that sat in your lap more for decoration than entertainment at that point and place a hand over your heart.

"I drew a lot of them too! My aunt brought them with her!" He pushes himself through the motions of standing up before immediately stopping and returning to his seat in front of the door. "I'll show them to you if you eat dinner with us!"

There are a few stammering noises from the other side of the door and yet you can't bring yourself to apologize for your nephew's bargaining.

Your own curiosity was quickly starting to get the better of you against your wishes.

The noise he had made several nights before makes itself heard again. His claws (you discovered those a few nights ago) scratch against the wooden flooring as he moves to sit against the other wall rather than the door, his voice moving with him.

"I don't want to— I wouldn't want— want to disturb you— either of you." His words are muffled by the door and his growing quietness, a  regretful lilt stuck in his throat. "But thank you for the offer."

If he truly didn't want to join you and your nephew (and the spirits) for dinner, he was terrible at showing it.

"I know I wouldn't mind," you hum, standing to put away the book. A loud thumping makes the floor vibrate and 'ire has to stifle a laugh. "I wouldn't mind picking up a pot and pan again either."

"No!" Link quickly apologizes for his tone after realizing his outburst. "You don't have to. I wouldn't be a good host if I made you do that."

"Are you scared I'll poison you?"

Your nephew's voice drops to a whisper he swears you won't be able to hear. "She can't. She's the best cook ever."

You're not sure how the two correlate, but you'd take thew compliment.

"She won't?" Link's voice drops to entertain your nephew despite his earlier convictions. It takes on a playful direction, fur rubbing against the wood-tiled floors in excitement (based on prior interactions). "You've never gotten sick? Not once?"

'ire begins to shake his head but quickly stops. "Only from eating too much— which you will do, by the way. Best cook around," he reiterates.

Link chuckles, tapping his fingers against the floor restlessly. It takes him a moment to come up with something to say and neither of you push him to hurry.

You were both too hooked on his every word to do so anyway.

"I'll.." He's shy for all the attention. You wonder when the last time he got so much focus on him outside of the spirits. ".. I'll be sure to think about your offer. Why don't you tell me about a few of your monsters so I have more of an incentive?"

Your nephew jumps on the opportunity while you think over the plethora of recipes in your mind.

It wasn't rare for one of the imps to accompany you outside when you went foraging.

You never strayed too far from the manor— the last time you had been dragged outside of the area you had designated for yourself (and your nephew) by the children, Link had to come and rescue to lot of you before the sun had gotten too low.

Suffice to say, it was a rather humbling experience.

Kneeling, squatting, or sitting on the ground had never been easy on your knees or back, but the grass below you had felt as though it were a pillow hailing from the Heavens itself.

Your body works on picking herbs from the ground before placing them in your bag repurposed for your (new) everyday tasks while your mind wanders elsewhere.

You're humming to yourself when a twig snapping breaks your focus.

It was a nice reminder that the imps hadn't, in fact, accompanied you that day.

Your head lifts to survey the surrounding woods. Your entire body was still, mimicking a deer caught on a hunting trip.

There was nothing immediately in your line of sight that could be seen as a threat, but you had lived a long enough life to know that wasn't enough reason to let your guard down.

You're slow to rise to your feet and your ears are strained as you listen for whatever had made the noise.

"I'm sorry!"

You can feel your body relax when you hear Link's voice call out from behind a tree. You sink back to your knees without much thought, clutching the fabric of your top to calm your battering heart.

You weren't sure what you were going to do if it were an actual danger anyway.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he continues. His arms move and you can see one drop against the side of a tree while the other tightens around the corpse of an animal. "You were so still, I wasn't sure if you were okay."

A quiet, breathless noise leaves you. You're not sure if he could hear it, but you can see his shoulders relax when you do. "You're— You're fine! I just.. didn't know that you'd be out and about at this time."

When the hand not occupied with that week's dinner (barely) lifts to grab ahold of a tree branch, you're shocked to just now find out how tall he is.

"It's not your fault. I didn't know you were out here," he grunts while gently tugging at the branch. "Are you alone?"

Your eyes drop to the flora that surrounds you to not feel so invasive. Your fingers rub against the blades of grass idly when a restless feeling overtakes you. "A few of the kids said they'd join me later, but I'm not too sure when that's supposed to be." A short, genuine laugh leaves you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they forgot."

Link lets out his own, quiet laughter that you can only clue together when you see the entire tree shake in your peripheral. "I wouldn't take it to heart. They say they'll join me in hunting all the time but never do."

"Have you ever given them a stern talking to? I've heard that usually works with spirits."

"They barely listen to me as is. I think you'd have more luck than me."

"Is that an offer?"

"Are you headed home now?"

A strange vice tightens around your heart at his wording while you look through your bag. "Mhm," you hum, standing now that your legs aren't like that of a newborn. "You'll have to remind me of the way, though."

"I can guide you," he hums in reply. "You just can't look back."

Turning your back to him, you're surprised you don't jump when a sharp claw gives a ghostly touch to the center of your back.

You're shocked that you disregard the urge to check over your shoulder every step back to the manor.

You were no stranger to 'ire's night terrors.

They'd gotten better over the past few years as he aged, but all that progress had been undone during the near month you'd been in the forest.

Wiping away the tears that had managed to slip out, you ignore the prickly and uncomfortable feeling that comes with keeping your lulling head up so you can watch him.

You'd done it a thousand times before and would do it one thousand and one more if it meant he felt better.

You don't miss how his grip on your arm tightens when you start humming his favorite song. Your hand trails up to his hairline, nails (claws?) tracing the paint on his face that refused to fade.

You'd spent so long trying to scrub them and the green marks off, you hadn't even realized his skin had started to pale into a sickly grey in patches while darkening into (what looked like) a necrotic black in others.

You didn't even want to think about the changes that had started coming to your body.

You were, however, thankful you weren't thinning into a stalfos.

"You're not as sneaky as you'd like to think."

"How'd you know?"

"I have a young nephew. You learn quickly."

A brief laugh leaves Link from behind the cracked door. Though you didn't face him, you could see the way his eyes illuminated the wall in front of you, even managed to catch on some of 'ire's face.

It was a pretty blue color.

You don't comment on it.

"What's wrong?" Your voice has a deep rasp to it, your hand continuing to stroke your nephew's face even after he begins to calm down.

He'd slowly begun dropping more and more barriers (physical and mental) when it came to communicating with you both, having taken up shadows in their stead. He had gotten more confident in conversation as well, stammering and stuttering less the longer your nephew forced him to talk.

It makes you wonder how long it'd take for him to finally make true on those dinner plans.

"I heard him," Link hums just as quietly, the glow of his eyes moving to instead look over the sleeping spirits that crowded themselves around the space not occupied on the bed. "I was worried. Do you want help with them?"

A soft laugh leaves you when one of the imps buries their head onto your calf as though it were a pillow. "They've been like this since we first got here. 'ire," you press a kiss to his forehead when he rouses, waiting for him to settle before speaking again, "says they like to cling."

"You don't mind?"

"He's not too far off from them nowadays."

"Does he miss anything?"

Laying on your back, you being 'ire's head to rest against your shoulder. Your gaze is finally able to see how he'd take up all of the doorway (and then some) through the crack of the door.

You'd be shocked he hadn't flinched away if it hadn't been for the way his hand reached out to clasp it.

The tips of his fingers reached well past the frame of the door, his claws further, and you could only imagine just how much space he was taking up in the small hallway.

You were confident he could fit five or six of you in his hand without trying.

Your eyes jump back to the three (possibly four?) eyes before he can become self-conscious.

"Almost everything," you answer after pulling yourself from your thoughts. "His clothes, his dolls.. He could go without his friends, though."

His eyes jump from your face to the window as he huffs out a nervous laugh. It makes you wonder if he knows something you don't, but you don't push. "And you?"

"Hmm?"

"And yourself," he clarifies, "what do you miss?"

You're silent.

What exactly did you miss?

The feeling of your village's grass between your toes after the rain, the baker's treats that no other could replicate, being a part of such a tight-knit community, the sun after a particularly muggy morning—

There wasn't any need to be a sap.

"I'm not sure," you finally say after a long period of silence. You hadn't realized your eyes had left Link, yet when you force your gaze back to him, he holds it without issue. "I struggled with becoming attached to things unlike 'ire."

"Hm."

"What?"

"I can't remember the last time someone said something like that."

"You have visitors like us often?"

"More than you'd think."

"And what's become of them?"

The glow of his eyes drops to the sleeping spirits that litter before looking to the window again and you quickly understand.

The hum that leaves your throat is more lackluster than you intended it to be, but given how quickly the topic had changed, you give yourself the grace.

"Well," you start after clearing your throat, "what's something that you miss?"

The manor creaks when Link leans against a wall and his confidence in the movement tells you more than you'd expected.

You don't think you'd ever have the same amount of trust he held in it.

There's a playful tone in his voice when he speaks, one of his hands raised to scratch against his chin. "You'd have to promise not to be dramatic when I say."

"Is it my fault you use such outdated terms thousands of years behind my time?"

Link turns away to stifle his laughter, shrouding the room in darkness and forcing your eyes to strain with it.

"I can't say I've had the easiest experience understanding you or your nephew's sayings," he hums, drowning you in the light of his eye when he turns back, "the kids have to keep filling me in."

"Shame, and here I thought you'd been closer to my age. Have you been leading me on this entire time?"

Link's claws knock against the wall, his tail wagging against the floor while he huffs his amusement. "Have I? When I don't even know your name?"

If the weight of 'ire wasn't on your shoulder, you're sure you would've had a physical reaction of some sort.

"It'd do you good to not forget it," he hums, the movement of his tail slowing until it stops entirely. "Titi and Auntie, as much as I hate to say it, won't do much good."

Another lackluster noise leaves you as the arm trapped underneath your nephew lifts to rub your thumb during his forehead. "How fun."

"The kids are too attached to do anything now." The door slowly creaks open before stopping. It shuts so there's only a crack instead. "You'll be fine to share your name now."

"You never answered my question."

"Which one?"

"I haven't asked a lot," you huff before taking a softer tone, eyes rolling closed. "What is it that you miss?"

Link quietly snorts, muffling it by pressing his face to the door. He takes a steadying breath before saying a quiet, "a lot, I suppose. I can't name just a few things." A low noise leaves him, it's similar to a growl. "My friends? Playing music as well— my hands aren't good for much but skewering these days. My horse, Epona, too. She was the prettiest mare."

"Is she red with a white mane?"

"You saw the kids' drawings?"

"I've seen her before, I think— or maybe it was a hallucination?" The hand stroking 'ire's forehead stops as you scrounge your memories. "When I saw her outside the forest, I knew it was real. Another fated hero was mounting her."

You'd like to think yourself a master of figuring out what each noise he makes is meant to mean, but the one Link lets out once you finish speaking is short and of a higher pitch than normal.

When he begins to stammer over his words as he had when you first interacted with him, it feels like years' worth of progress has been undone.

"I— uhm— You— I don't— err— Thank—"

His tail thumps three times before he knocks his head against the door with a heavy groan. He lets out a quiet "Hylia, be damned," you couldn't help but think he hoped you wouldn't hear to go along with his frustration.

"It's been a long night," you finally prompt. "You'd best get some shut-eye before 'ire bombards you with more from his imagination, yeah?"

"Yeah," Link answers in a weak voice. "Yeah," he repeats to himself more than anything, "of course. Good night," he steps away from the door. "Sleep well."

"Same for you."

The night Link finally takes you and 'ire up on your offer for dinner, your nephew and the spirits had taken to floating around the east wing's dining room to prepare it for such a grand event.

"Titi, titi!" One of the Kokiri exclaims, tugging at the fabric of your skirt (that Link had made out of a spare bedsheet). Her voice had a strange echo to it— all of them, really— and had given you migraines up until you'd finally become accustomed to it. "'ire says that you'll make your world-famous pudding! Will you? Will you?"

You ignore her exaggeration in favor of forcing yourself to wrench your eyes away unless you wanted her puppy dog face to work on you. "Should I? I.. I can't say any of you have been acting well enough to deserve it.."

Even in your peripheral, it's not hard to miss the absolutely crushed look on her face. Her eyes were wide and her bottom lip wobbling like she was about to cry despite your joking tone.

"But why—y," she whines, dragging the last syllable on while hiccuping on her breath as she went on. You know the tears pooling in her eyes are just as fake as your rejection of her request— but you know just as well who'll win the battle at the end of the day.

"I—" hiccup. "Want—" hiccup. "Cake—" hiccup.

You raise a brow. "Pudding or cake, sweetheart? I can't make both."

The girl begins to climb your back while you return to sautéing the vegetables, arms wrapping around your neck so she can press her cheek against yours. "Cake! No, pudding! No! Cake! No—"

"I'll tell you what," you interrupt, taking the pan from over the open flame once the food is charred to your liking. Your skin thanks you when you step away and douse the fire, the arid air leaving through the open window. "Why don't you ask a few of the others which they want then we can try and get Link to bake it after dinner?"

The girl jumps off your back with stars practically filling her eyes. She cries out for several names while she runs off, hands clapping excitedly as she shouts out the change in plans.

You're left in peace until your nephew enters with his journals clutched between his arms, bouncing between his feet while he watches you finish plating each food item on dishes you could only dream of owning where you're from.

"D'you think he'll come?" 'ire's voice is low, almost as though scared Link will hear. You know he does if the night of his nightmares a few months ago were anything to go by— but he didn't need to know that.

"He'd better," you answer in an equally low tone. "I didn't spend so long slaving away at this just for him not to."

"Is that a threat?"

The plates in your hands aren't spared by the flinch that wracks through your body. Your reflexes are quick to catch them before any of the food can hit the floor.

'ire, on the other hand, has no issue with voicing his shock in the form of a scream, scurrying from the doorway while dropping his journals. He jumps behind you, hands clutching the fabric of your skirt while he hides himself behind your hip.

"Well?"

Placing a hand over your racing heart after putting the plates down, your other hand comes down to rest on 'ire's head. "It's rude to sneak up on people, you know."

The blond fur of his chest rustles with his laughter. It was difficult to see much else other than that, what with the way he hid himself behind the wall connecting the kitchen to the pantry.

You hadn't even heard his footsteps or creaking floorboards when he first approached. Had he been there the entire time and 'ire hadn't seen him, or had he only walked in after 'ire entered?

You wondered if he was naturally quiet or if he just learned which floorboards were loose.

"Is it sneaking when you were expecting me?" Link's voice is lighter than it usually is, a slight tremble could even be heard if you focused on it enough. He rocks on his feet and briefly leans forward, a less organic-looking side profile coming into view before leaving right after. "If I knew I would be this unwelcomed, I—"

"That's a joke, right?" 'ire stomps away from your side while he speaks, stepping over his discarded compilations of works to stare up at Link with wide eyes. Your nephew ignores the way Link's hands raise to cover his face and how he backs away as soon as he pivots in his foot to face him. "You're not actually gonna pansy out, right?"

Your feet lead you to the two before you can have much of a thought. "Zaire," you say in a terse voice, taking hold of his shoulder and bringing him against your front so you can stop him from interrogating the poor man. "Don't be rude."                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

Whatever argument he has dies on his tongue when he takes a good, long look at Link. His mouth gaped open like a fish, one of his fingers lifting so he could push it into the fur of his stomach, watching the skin beneath sink with the force of it as though it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Woah."

If you had any less sense of dignity, you'd let yourself have the same reaction.

"Don't be rude," you reiterate, pushing Zaire's hand down until it finally reaches its rightful place at his side.

"No," Link breathes into his palms, clearing his voice to try and rid it of the anxiety (and, possibly, humiliation). "He's— he's fine. This wouldn't be the first time someone responded like that. I'd be more concerned if he did any other way."

Zaire shrugs your hands from your shoulders, stepping until he is toe-to-claw with Link. "Then why are you hiding your face? It can't be that bad," he says, tugging at the fur of Link's elbows, rubbing them between his fingers so he could better be accustomed to the texture.

Spreading his fingers enough so you both could see the four holes in the inorganic material, Link lets out another heavy breath. "I'm self-conscious," he can tell the answer doesn't please Zaire and continues speaking, "It's been.. too long.. since I've shown anyone either of my faces."

"A mask is.." Your voice falters off when you finally find the words to speak, losing them again when you fail to find a proper way to articulate your thoughts.

"It's mostly you and the kids, no?" You try again when you figure out a way to better word it. "Is a mask not.. Is it.. necessary?"

When the blue light that emits from his eyes lifts to look at you, an unidentifiable emotion shoots through you. He holds your gaze for a few, silent moments before turning his head and dropping his hands.

"It's like a second skin," he simply offers.

"Sad," Zaire sighs, backing away and turning until he stood in the center of the kitchen. "Can you still eat with it? Like I said, Auntie is the best cook in all the realms and you have to taste it to believe it."

Curse your nephew's skill of lightening a mood.

Rather than let his insecurities keep him from looking at either of you for the duration of the night, Link looks down at Zaire with a playful jolt of his shoulders. "It's not fused with my face."

Zaire's eyes curl into crescents while he grabs two of the plates from the counter. "Good!" His tail (a terrifying new addition when he first started changing) wraps around the third dish, walking himself past the two of you in the pantry so he could place each one on the dining table. "You'll love this then! Auntie," you don't miss the way he adds your name causally, "always makes this on a big day!"

Link repeats your name under his breath before doing the same with Zaire's. He lets out a thoughtful nod as each one rolls off his tongue, one pair of eyes looking at you while the other continues to follow your nephew.

He wrings his hands together when he catches the way you examined him oh-so-carefully, arms crossed with your head tilted.

"It's nice," he gulps as though every inch of nervousness had reentered his body. "It's a nice name. I like it. It suits you."

You don't know if you were teasing him prior, but you decide to do so now.

"I'd hope so." You pat a hand against his arm as you walk into the kitchen, ignoring the oily feel of his fur. You ignore the feeling of him watching and instead focus on searching through the cupboards for the drink you had foraged around to make just days before. "I could say the exact same for you, thankfully."

"Now, why don't you have a seat so I can play host this time?"

[pascaloverx]

To Begin Again

TWELVE

Summary: You're a new teacher at a large and influential school. It's a risky step for you, as you've been running from your ex for almost two years. But when Dumbledore asks you to take on a class at the renowned Hogwarts, you can't refuse. However, your life as a newly arrived teacher won't be easy. Especially when the other teachers don't seem eager to make friends. Or rather, two teachers in particular: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Author's Note: Welcome, dear readers. Please leave your comments if you enjoy fanfiction. This fanfic takes place almost in the real world (with the addition of werewolves) and is not a wizarding fanfic. There will be some differences and changes in things from the Harry Potter story or other fanfics in the HP universe, but I promise to do my best writing this fanfic. There will be a love triangle coming in this fanfic. So, dear readers, just as in this fanfic it's meant to imagine Remus Lupin as being Andrew Garfield and Sirius Black as being Ben Barnes, now I present to you the fancast of Severus Snape as being actor Enzo Vogrincic. Imagine him as Snape if you can.

ELEVEN THIRTEEN

A week later, things haven't improved. You managed to convince McGonagall that it would be best to change rooms, at least. The current issue is your emotional connection with Lupin. He feels too much, always intensely. For a man who barely expresses his feelings, he feels too much. And even by avoiding him physically, his feelings seem to have an absurd strength in reaching you.

"Are you sure this box isn't too heavy?" You ask Bellatrix, who as your new bathroom mate, is helping you with the move. McGonagall decided to switch you and Peter Pettigrew's rooms. So Sirius will have Peter as his next-door neighbor, and you'll have Bellatrix. It's better than having to avoid Mr. Black every day.

"I'm stronger than I look, sweetheart. I believe this is the last box. I said it would be quicker if I carried the boxes and you organized the room, right?" Bellatrix responds proudly, pleased to have been right. Thanks to her, you'll soon be able to go teach without worrying about organizing anything when you return to your room.

"Pay me back by coming over for a glass of wine tonight. They say it's good to have company for a nice wine on cold nights. What do you think?" Bellatrix says with a mischievous smile, and you can only think that drinking might help you forget your troubles.

"I think it's a perfect idea. I'll stop by your room later for wine," you say, kissing Bellatrix on the cheek. Strangely, she purrs when your face gets close to hers. She immediately kisses the corner of your mouth and leaves with a victorious smile. Unfortunately, you don't even have time to process what's happening in your life because you have to teach your students. So you rush towards the classroom.

The classroom has a distinct atmosphere. Ron and Hermione are sitting apart from Harry. Draco is relatively close to Harry. Pansy is sitting next to Luna. It seems different but not so bad. You had an idea of how your class would be. However, seeing your students like this, you thought of a more unique artistic dynamic.

"Today, we will work on ourselves. Before anything else, know that art resides within the artist. So everything you produce in this class will be a piece of yourselves. The main task is to create a painting that captures your essence. But before you worry about that, understand that the painting itself will be a project that will take several classes to complete. Today, we will focus on yourselves. I want everyone to think about something you like and something you dislike about yourself. One thing you admire about yourselves and another you despise. Does anyone want to start?" You ask the class of students in front of you, hoping someone will raise their hand and spare you from the awkwardness.

"I like being dedicated. Knowing more than most because I'm capable of it. What I don't like is how that can come across as arrogant or overly ambitious. I hate overthinking things." Not surprising anyone and saving you, Hermione Granger responds first. You look at her with pride, nodding as if to reassure your student that her account is important.

"I like how easily I can become attached to someone. Just give me a bit of affection and I can latch onto you. But unfortunately, I tend to develop expectations, and when those expectations are shattered, I become a mess," Ron Weasley opens his heart while holding Hermione's hand, as if she's supporting him, and looking towards Harry.

"I like being fearless. I enjoy adventuring, especially with my friends. And I don't like being aggressive, having a short fuse," Harry says, looking at both Draco and Ron, as if justifying his attempt to be less aggressive towards Malfoy. And so almost all the students went on pointing out what they liked and didn't like about themselves, until only Draco Malfoy was left.

"I like being better than most people I know. But I don't like the fact that it bothers me that feeling superior doesn't actually make me better," Draco admits reluctantly. You're pleased that he managed to share this. You speak to your students, observing them carefully as the school bell signals the end of your class. Everyone seems at least to be trying to take you seriously. As your students file out of the classroom for break, you begin packing up your things when you hear a knock on the door. Turning to look, you find Snape and Sirius standing side by side. Snape looks like a lost puppy who just found its owner, while Sirius appears genuinely furious.

"He wanted to speak with you, the one who helped him the day he lost his memory. Conveniently, now he has no idea what happened," Sirius replies sharply and straightforwardly, clearly in a bad mood. You understand that Snape is a risk for him, but the truth is, the Snape before you seems clueless about what transpired.

"I actually wanted to thank you. I have no idea how I ended up here or why I was in that forest, but I have a feeling you were the angel who saved my life. Right now, I'm going back to the United States to reclaim some of my life, and I wanted to say goodbye with my gratitude. Thank you so much, beautiful lady. If I ever come back here, you'll be the first person I visit." Snape speaks so passionately that it seems he has developed an extra fondness for you. Perhaps his heart holds more memories than his head. He catches you off guard by gently holding your face and kissing your cheek. Then he pauses in front of you for a few moments, gazing at you kindly. Before he can try to kiss you, Sirius pulls him back.

"I'm sure your brain hasn't forgotten basic manners. You don't just kiss someone like that, especially if you don't know if they're single. Can you imagine if you made the mistake of kissing her without her consent in front of her boyfriend? I think it's better if you show your gratitude by leaving." Sirius speaks impatiently and defensively, as if he were your boyfriend or something. Snape apologizes again, looking frightened, and quickly runs off. Clearly, he has lost his memory. Sirius would never scare him off like that if he were the Snape with memories intact.

"Expecting me to thank you for this is a waste of our time. Nice performance—it almost seemed like you were jealous, by the way," you say as you walk, followed by Sirius, who from your peripheral vision doesn't seem pleased at all.

"Were you going to let that repugnant man put his hands on you?" Sirius questions angrily, as if you were about to allow something horrible to happen.

"We both know what he did, but he doesn't. I wasn't going to let him touch or kiss me inappropriately. But that's hardly any of your damn business, Sirius. Go take care of your love life and personal affairs and leave mine alone." You turn, looking directly into Black's eyes, who huffs at your words. He's furious, but you don't care. You warned him that you wanted to stay away from him and Lupin.

"My love, it's hard to believe what comes out of your mouth when your eyes say you want me. I'm flattered that you want to play cat and mouse with me and Lupin. He might obey you, but I won't. Do you know why? Because I know there's a flame inside you that burns for me. And as long as I can, I won't let that damn flame go out." Sirius says, coming so close to you that you feel he could easily become a part of you. He seems angry but determined. You look at him for a moment, then place your hand on his chest for no apparent reason and lean in.

"You're going to end up hurting yourself by doing this. Because I can guarantee that even if I become a blazing inferno of pure desire for you, I will never let you get close to me in the way you imagine. Do us both a favor and give up." You speak so fiercely that, in the back of your mind, there is even a desire to bite Sirius's face. You particularly think this is the werewolf part of you speaking. You turn like a storm and head to your room, leaving behind an aroused and disappointed Sirius.

When you get to your room, all you can think about is how much you'd like to lie down on the bed and sleep. But soon you'll have to go drink wine with Bellatrix. So, you spend some time finishing tidying up your room and taking a good bath. When you get out of the bath and put on your robe, you hear someone knocking on the door. You find it strange because you're almost certain Bellatrix is supposed to be giving a lesson right now. But after tying your robe, you open the door. Remus Lupin stands in front of you, wearing only jeans and a shirt. You think he looks sexy, and unfortunately, from the little smile he gives, he knows you think that.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, leaning against the door and watching Lupin continue to stare at you as if you were a statue to be admired.

"I need you to let me in." That's all he says, while his feelings are too jumbled for you to understand. Something must be wrong. You move your head pointing into the room and let him enter.

"Your feelings are a complete mess. It feels like you can't focus on anything." You say looking at him after closing the door. He looks at you like he's in conflict with himself. That's when you realize you need to make him focus on something. Going against your own words, you do an impulsive act after waiting for him to organize his feelings. You approach Remus and kiss him. It should be a peck on his lips and you should walk away. But something pulls you closer, making you give Lupin another kiss. He leans you against the door, holding your waist, while he supports you against the door. There is a lot of excitement being felt. You know that every second the kiss intensifies, you want more and so does he. And then you throw Remus onto your bed.

"I'm being sabotaged. I had this theory since I transformed on a night that wasn't a full moon. But now it's concrete. The night you arrived here, someone let me out of the safe place where I should have been locked up near the cabin. Sirius and I thought it might be in our heads. A few nights later, I transform outside of the full moon. And now, I discovered that the lock on my little private prison was broken from the outside." Lupin speaks eloquently, and you're glad the kiss served some purpose. It seems crazy to think he might be sabotaged by someone, but it makes sense.

"Do you have any idea who it could be?" you ask, approaching Lupin, who looks distraught. You crouch in front of him, running your hand through his hair. Then the memory of the last time you saw someone crouched in front of him, looking at him the same way and with the same care as now, hits you. Instinctively, you fall back onto the floor, feeling embarrassed.

"You saw me and Sirius the other night. That's why you feel like we don't belong to you, isn't it? That's why you're running from us as if we were a disease? You're afraid of being left out," Remus questions with such confidence that it feels like he can understand you completely. You look at him, confused, while still on the floor, wearing only your robe. Lupin extends his hand to you to help you up. You take his hand and stand up. The two of you stare at each other while he waits for a response.

"If you want verbal confirmation, yes. I saw you two, I witnessed your love and how devoted you are to each other. You can't expect me to get in the middle of an already built relationship." You still speak very close to Lupin. He smirks, as if he finds what you just said adorable.

"If he and I are accepting you in the relationship, you're not getting in the middle of the relationship. Can't you see that we both want you?" Remus says and you put your finger on his mouth to make him shut up.

"You came here to talk about someone sabotaging you. Focus on what's important." You talk changing the subject. While you doesn't want to do romantic things right now, you are intrigued.

"My main suspicion is Bellatrix." Remus Lupin speaks, catching you off guard. You never thought Bellatrix could do anything to Lupin. However, you don't know their story well, and personally, you're a newcomer here. At that moment, someone knocks on your door a few times, distracting you.

"Who is it?" You speak loud enough for the person to hear, while also placing your hand over Lupin's mouth to prevent any misunderstanding.

"Hey, it's me, Bellatrix, your next-door neighbor. Just letting you know I've finished my last class of the day. I'm heading back to my room to take a shower, and then I'll be ready for your company. Sound good?" Bellatrix speaks loudly, and as you deal with Lupin's disapproving look, you begin to consider how to respond.

"Agreed. I'll be in your room as soon as I get ready here," you reply. After hearing Bellatrix enter her room, you remove your hand from Lupin's mouth.

"Are you really going to meet her?" Lupin asks, judging you while also appearing concerned. You look at him slightly uncomfortable.

"I know you believe she might be messing with you now. But to find out for sure, you'll need someone close to her to gather information. Unless you want Sirius to seduce her, I think I'm a good option," you say, being rational. Besides, playing detective could be fun.

"I feel uneasy about both possibilities. And you know that," Remus says, sounding like an overprotective boyfriend. You nod in response, assuring him that you'll be careful despite his concerns.

"Let's find out who's messing with you. Together," you say, a bit awkwardly. Remus gives you one last once-over and quietly leaves. You can't help but think that the hunt for the saboteur is officially on.