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#maybe i just tricked myself into thinking i put it up....
haphazard-pen · 7 months
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day 90
happy tdov here's the faves who, incidentally, i do headcanon as all being various flavors of trans
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primofate · 3 months
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"Where'd you get that bruise--Oh," in which your Genshin lover gets a good look at the first hickey he left
Warnings: please excuse mistakes as I'm on a time crunch and also sleep deprived, suggestive but still safe for work, humorous in some parts
Other works in this series: (You say I love you for the first time)
Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader  
Aether
gets flustered
"Uh-Umm... Maybe, you should..."
he wants to say cover it up but who is he to tell you what to do?
Starts to second guess if he really gave you that
Will start to think about the events of last night and deflates with embarrassment
Finally points it out, feels kind of bad that he left a mark
"It's just...distracting...I'm sorry if it hurt,"
Albedo
stares at it for the longest time.
There's a half smile, half amused look on his face, like he wants to be happy about it but doesn't want to be too obvious.
Just chuckles and points it out without any shyness whatsoever
"It's rather obvious, but do with it what you will,"
Comes up with some sort of concealing potion to help you hide it
Brews about a 100 of 'em
Alhaitham
Sort of does a double take, looks at it for a few seconds then looks you in the eye
"I'd advise you to hide it,"
he really only says that to keep things professional when the two of you go out
but in the next second he snakes a hand up your arm with a small secret smirk between the two of you
"However, I can't say that it won't happen again...Specially when..."
He recalls the events of last night at this moment, and it seems as if he's staring into your soul. He breaks away from you with a slight hum.
"...I best be going now."
He leaves you confused, but he only hurried off because he felt an urge to give you another one then and there.
Ayato
chuckles to himself
"Well, there's no hiding that I enjoyed myself,"
but gives you helpful suggestions on how to conceal it or at least make the colour less obvious, like putting ice against it, or something.
Speaking of ice, you can simply get it from the kitchen but Ayato is a tease... "I suppose my dear sister can adequately help you with that...Though what, pray tell, would you tell her?"
You kind of shrug and say that you'll tell her an animal bit you.
Ayato is amused "An animal," but there's a twinkle and hint of lust in his eyes. "Yes, perhaps that's what I become when it involves you. The statement isn't exactly a lie,"
Cyno
is silent. Not sure if he's happy about it or horrified.
Feels like a crime cause it looks like a bruise.
Does not say anything for a good minute because he simply doesn't know what to say and is talking to himself in his mind
Like Was I really the one who did that? Last night must've been...
Snaps out of his stupor when he's reminded of the events and clears his throat to catch your attention.
"Y/N...You...I...I've managed to leave a mark...on your neck..."
You absentmindedly touch it and let out a small ohhhhhhh in understanding
Clears his throat again and looks away, pretending to be busy with something. Flustered and doesn't know what else to say.
Dainsleif
Eyebrows involuntarily raise up at the marks.
Points it out immediately
"My dear, it seems that I had a favourite spot last night," and taps on your neck to let you know what exactly he means.
"I can conceal it with a little trick of mine, if you don't mind," he says he can make it invisible to the ordinary eye but some "special" people can see it, so...
"I suppose if you run into the traveller that you'd have to be honest about it. Hm? No, I don't quite mind if they know of our relationship,"
Diluc
is surprised, then apologetic
He didn't know is fully aware how rough he had been last night
Apologizes with a slight tint of red on his cheeks and can't seem to pry his eyes away from it.
"My apologies, Y/N. It looks like I was rather...careless...last night. You should wear something with a collar today...or perhaps, my coat?"
Is seriously considering repenting about it
Itto
"Whoa--"
Is legit about to throw hands but then remembers
"Oh yeah. I did that." while scratching his head bashfully
No shame about it afterwards, even has the gall to say
"I'm surprised it doesn't look worse! It was pretty wild last nig--"
You have to cover his mouth to save yourself from embarrassment
Kaeya
smirks and leans in close to brush his fingers against the hickey.
"It isn't the most flattering of marks but... it gives me quite the sense of accomplishment,"
winks, deadass tries to give you another one right away.
"How about we try that again? Just to even it out on both sides of your neck,"
is only half joking
Lyney
mischievous laugh
is more happy about it than shy, embarrassed or apologetic
"That wasn't very nice of me wasn't it?" but is still smiling
"Unfortunately I don't think I have any magic tricks up my sleeve to fix this one,"
Grabs and hugs you by the waist "I guess we'll just have to stay in, the two of us, until it's unnoticeable"
always looking for an excuse to spend alone time with you.
Neuvillette
clears his throat almost immediately when he sees it, like he choked on water
"Y/N," he starts rather sternly but falters and takes a few seconds to think.
"May I suggest wearing a scarf today?" is awkward about pointing it out so goes the roundabout way. You're so confused because it's the middle of summer.
"Well," he coughs once to try an explain to you. "I didn't have all manners of restraint last night...You were simply...irresistible,"
points it out by gently thumbing at it
Scaramouche
shit-eating grin at the sight of it
Doesn't tell you to cover it up, most likely wants you to go parading around with it.
"Tsk. What's the harm if people ask? Just be honest and tell them," he's just fucking around with your head now
but snatches your wrist and looks you straight in the eye with a confident smirk "And be sure to tell them who gave it to you. That'll teach them to back off,"
Tartaglia
laughs but is slightly apologetic
"Couldn't hold myself back, I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"
You tell him that the next time he leaves a hickey, he should leave it somewhere where it's more concealed.
"Oh?" sudden glint in his eyes. You might have said the wrong thing. "No take backs, Y/N,"
I think you know what or where he's thinking about
Tighnari
Doesn't say anything at first but immediately whips up a remedy for it. Some sort of green paste that helps with inflammation.
"Here," and hands you the bowl of herbs. "For that,"
He doesn't point at it but instead eyes it rather obviously
He also watches you put the paste on "Alright, just leave it for a few minutes and it should heal wonderfully,"
He doesn't exactly feel guilty but he's more worried that people will look at you weirdly.
"I suppose I'll have to be careful next time," with a sigh.
Wriothesley
laughs but bashfully face palms and tilts his head backwards
Recovers quickly and smiles apologetically
"Sorry love, couldn't hold myself back it looks like," lovingly takes your face in his palms
Can't hold his smile back "But can you blame me? I'm not gunna hide that I was way too excited,"
Suggests you to put a bandage of some sort over it.
"I'll try to be careful next time, but no promises,"
Xiao
Freezes while looking at it
For a split second is confused where you got such a mark but then flusters himself when he remembers it was from him.
"...Y/N..."
seriously does not know what to say
stands there staring at it that you finally just check in the mirror yourself. He hears you gasp and he kind of winces to himself and now feels a little guilty.
"I...didn't mean to hurt you,"
You quickly tell him it doesn't hurt, but you were just surprised.
Thinks for a moment, then mumbles, you can barely hear him "...So it's alright to do it again?"
Zhongli
chuckles, not shy about it. just amused.
"It's no one's fault except my own. I merely wasn't paying heed to how...carnal...my desires were,"
he again chuckles as he explains.
"Not to worry darling, I'm sure Bubu Pharmacy has something to remedy it. I'll be back with it in tow,"
brushes his fingers against the hickey as some sort of apology and promise that he'll fix it
End
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ariaste · 9 months
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The Magic Trick You Didn’t See: Being An Analysis of Good Omens Season 2
(or: Neil Gaiman, Your Brain is Gorgeous But I Have Cracked Your Sneaky Little Code And Have You Dead To Rights*) (*Maybe)
***
Soooooo I just spent the last 48 hours having a BREATHTAKING GALAXY BRAIN EPIPHANY about Good Omens Season 2 and feverishly writing a fuckin16,000 word essay about the incredible magic trick that @neil-gaiman pulled off. 
Yes, it’s long, but I PROMISE your brains will explode. Do you want to know how magic works? Do you want to know what Metatron’s deal is (I’m like 99% sure of this and it’s EXTREMELY FUCKING GOOD)? Do you want to know about the Mystery of the Vanishing Eccles Cakes and the big fat beautiful clue I found in the opening credits? Do you go through the whole inventory of Chekov’s Firearm & Heavy Artillery Discount Warehouse? 
Here is the essay, go read it: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ When ur done u can tell me I’m an insane crackpot, and u know what, i won’t even be offended
In case you don’t know whether you want to bother reading the whole enormous thing on google docs, I’ve put the first couple sections of it under the cut. JUST TRUST ME OKAY, HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS VERY EXTREMELY COOL, NEIL IS GOOD AT HIS JOB--
Proem
A dark theater. The rustling of the audience: clothes, breathing, whispers of anticipation. The lights come up. A man enters, stage left. He is a magician—a master magician—and he performs for you a magic trick so good and so subtle... that you don’t even notice you’ve seen it. 
You know there must have been a trick—after all, you came to the theater to see a trick performed, didn’t you? And he claims to be a magician. So there had to be a trick somewhere. There had to be.
But maybe there wasn’t. Maybe there was just a man on a stage, talking to you, telling you a story with a strangely unsatisfying ending you didn’t quite understand. 
I know. This is a weird beginning to an analysis essay. But hear me out, because I have to explain the mechanisms of the stage before I can show you what the trick was, where the trapdoor was hidden, and how Neil Gaiman pulled the whole thing off so gently and elegantly that you didn’t notice a thing. Ready? Here we go.
The Facts As We Know Them
Let us begin by establishing a baseline—some fundamental, logical assumptions that underpin the magic trick. These will seem obvious as soon as I say them, which is precisely the point: They are self-evident, loadbearing foundations for my entire argument, and if I don’t point them out, I’m going to sound like a crackpot conspiracy theorist. (Which! To be fair, I might be. I could easily be wrong about all this—but I don’t think I am.)
Our baseline, loadbearing assumptions that preface my Grand Unified Theory of Season 2: 
1. Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job.
2. Neil Gaiman loves these characters and wants with all his heart to do them justice; likewise, he has a great deal of respect, love, and admiration for Terry Pratchett and is striving VERY HARD to write the show the way Terry would have been happy with.
3. The devil, as they say, is in the details: Neil Gaiman and the entire Good Omens cast/crew are fully capable of doing extremely subtle detail work, as conclusively proven in Season 1 Ep 6, specifically the whole sequence of the body-swap scenes.
With me so far? Great.
The Elephant In The Room
Season 2 was... odd. It was odd, wasn’t it. This isn’t a matter of whether you loved it or hated it—there was just something odd going on.
I spent the entirety of my first viewing very much enjoying myself and being very happy to be back with these characters and this world, but I was also liveblogging to my groupchat as I went, and a theme soon began emerging:
“Neil, what are you doing? Where are you going with this?” “What in god’s name is going on here? I’m so lost lmao.” “What is going on with the music situation?” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE NEIL” “zombies, ok, I trust u to pull this all together in the end, Neil, but I still don't know what you're up to” “What is going on LOL” “Incredibly what is going on here” “NEIL! WHAT IS HAPPENING!” “Literally what is happening” “Neil Gaiman why have you constructed a regency au for mystery VIBES reasons” “just????????? lesbians????????? dancing what's HAPPENING. just all the background characters are gay here ok sure sure sure NEIL GAIMAN WHAT IS HAPPENING--” “mmmmmmm neil what u doin”
All these are copied verbatim from my liveblogging, and apparently I am not the only one to have this reaction. And to be clear, I was having a good time! I came out to this theater to see a magic trick, and this Neil Gaiman guy on stage is a master magician—but I didn’t see the trick, even though there must have been a trick. 
At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about the season. I wanted to like it! Indeed, there were many things that I liked about it! But I felt a bit muddled and jumbled up and confused—I felt like there was something I didn’t understand about it, and so I couldn’t yet understand how I felt about it either.
I started chewing on this question in a friend’s DMs: Why is season 2 so fucking odd? What is going on here, Neil? What are you up to? The matter of whether he was up to something was never in question. I knew that he had to be up to something. Writers are always up to something, and as I watched season 2, it was as if I was watching Neil scamper around the room with a mischievous expression as he messed with things here and there and made little tweaks and adjustments to the arrangement of all the Chekov’s guns he’s stockpiling on the mantelpiece. 
You see, Season 2 has some very bad writing in it. HANG ON, DON’T ARGUE WITH ME YET! THIS IS NOT A JUDGMENT CALL!! This is the rug that the trick’s secret mechanism is hidden under!!! This is the hidden mirror that makes the trick work!!!!! This is the trapdoor in the stage!
Yes, of course I will explain myself.
Neil Gaiman is a master magician, but I am a pretty damn good magician myself—I’m a professional fantasy author who has published nine books, and I teach workshops for apprentice writers online and at universities—and if there is one thing I have learned about the process of achieving mastery of your craft, it is this: 
Regardless of what medium they’re working in, the apprentice artist is concerned primarily with achieving realism via an expansion of their control—control of their brush strokes as they paint a photorealistic eye; control of their deck of cards, the mechanisms of their magic tricks, and where the audience’s attention is being directed; control of all the little factors of voice, plot, character, setting, suspense and surprise that go into writing a good story. However, the master artist has achieved that control—so much so that it often looks effortless to an untrained eye—and sometimes the master artist returns to a messy, amateurish style simply because they have control even over this too. 
As an example, consider Picasso and his entire body of work. He begins as an apprentice focused on achieving control, doing portraits of people that look like people—like what we expect a portrait of a person to look like. Then, as he grows in skill and gradually achieves mastery, he pulls away from realism. He develops a style, he experiments with faces that don’t look like any human alive  colored in ways that do not appear in nature. He expands his control. His work becomes abstract. Towards the end of his life, he starts experimenting with what’s called “Naive art”, something that a 5 year old could theoretically draw... but you have to achieve mastery before you can do it on purpose and have it look good. 
On one hand, Neil Gaiman is extremely good at his job. On the other hand, Season 2 has bad writing in it.
What does that tell us?
Well, we know from our Baseline Assumptions that Neil Gaiman is simply too good of a writer to fuck up through garden-variety clumsiness and lack-of-control the way an apprentice writer would. Additionally, he cannot fuck up by accident in this case because I am positive that the man is scrutinizing his work on Good Omens far too closely to let anything slide—for Crowley and Aziraphale’s sakes, for David and Michael’s sakes, and especially for Terry’s sake. The stakes are sky-high, and he cares too much to write a weird, kind of “bad” season by accident.
Which leaves only one option: He did it on purpose.
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(Am I sounding like a crackpot conspiracy theorist? Baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I’m gonna get SO MUCH MORE CRACKPOT.)
If he did it on purpose, then the natural question to ask is: WHY!?!?!??
It’s a great question. Not “Why?” in terms of why he as an individual person with emotions would decide to do that, mind you. More like, “What purpose does this serve for the structure of the narrative?” There is a story he is intending to tell, and out of all the choices he could have possibly made, for some reason this one was necessary and correct in order to achieve that end goal—so what was that reason?
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See? Intentionality. He knows exactly what details he left in, and he did it on purpose. (Editing! It’s important!)
So there has to be a reason. It’s like when a master magician “casually” rubs an itch on his nose—why did he do that? What is he sneakily slipping into his mouth by hiding it under the excuse of this little gesture that does not even register to you as meaningful? (If you haven’t watched enough stage magic to know what I mean, watch this.)
This question is, of course, impossible to simply answer out of thin air without any further evidence. It is a dead end—so we must adjust the question and come at it from a different angle.
The one I settled on when I was chewing on this was: Well, okay, what do I mean when I say “bad writing”? What is it about S2 that makes it feel so goddamn odd?
The Pledge, The Turn, and... The Conspicuous, Expectant Silence
There are three parts to a magic trick: Pledge, Turn, Prestige. 
First, the Pledge: You show the audience something ordinary. Second, the Turn: You make that ordinary thing do something extraordinary, like vanish. Third, the Prestige: You bring the ordinary thing back.
To quote the 2006 film The Prestige just after its explanation of the first two parts: “You want to be fooled. But you wouldn’t clap yet, because making something disappear isn’t enough. You have to bring it back.”
You have to bring it back.
When I teach apprentice writers, I call this a “setup-payoff cycle”. Achieving control and dexterity with this tool is crucial, because the setup-payoff cycle is the engine of the story—it’s what makes the story run. You can have a setup-payoff cycle at any scale—I have read ones that were a single sentence long; I’ve read ones that were two books long. Additionally, all jokes, no matter how long they are, are structured on a setup/payoff cycle. These cycles work precisely the same way a magic trick does:
You set up the audience’s expectations. (Optional but generally considered stylish and elegant: You give those expectations a firm jolt to throw the audience off-balance.) You pay off the audience’s expectations in a way they weren’t expecting, while saying “TA DA!!!!” really loud with your arms flung wide.
Audiences really like this. A setup-payoff cycle executed just right makes the audience’s brains light up like Times Square and hammers on their mental “reward” buttons like nothing else. It’s like you’ve personally handed them a cookie and a gold star. They go wild for this.
Here’s an example of a setup-payoff cycle, though it’s not a perfect one—and you’ve probably heard it before, so you’re not going to be throwing chairs and tearing down the theater from sheer glee:
The Setup: Knock knock. Who’s there? Banana. Banana who? The Jolt: (the joke starts over and repeats several times without reaching the payoff (aka the prestige) while the audience grows more and more annoyed and frustrated about the unfulfilled expectations, until finally...) Knock knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who? The Payoff: ORANGE YOU GLAD I DIDN’T SAY BANANA?
Good Omens Season 2 feels so fucking odd because the setup-payoff cycles are incomplete—nearly all of them are, and the ones that do close the loop do so in really weird ways which, as a professional author, make me feel kind of, “Bwuh?????? But where’s my cookie? Excuse me??? Sir???? Neil????? My cookie, tho???”
When I realized this, when I finally put my finger on why the whole season was giving me some uncanny valley heebie-jeebies, a chill ran down my spine. (The rest is here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/193IXS11XN46lziHRb6eUpM17yK0BQkRqke1Wh64A_e0/ I’M GOING TO GO STARE INTO THE ABYSS NOW BYE)
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freedomfireflies · 29 days
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Pillow Talk*
Summary: The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.
Word Count: 7.2k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, daddy kink, mentions of drugs, angst (w/ happy ending!), not suitable for Ramadan!
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“Oh, absolutely not.”
“Come on. Just one time.”
“No. Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Probably. I haven’t slept in 32 hours.”
You huff as you hide yourself behind your door. You don’t even want to see him. Because you don’t want to have this conversation or entertain this idiotic idea. This is what Harry does. He plays games. He tricks and he ruins and if you open this door, you know you’ll regret it. 
“Poppy, please,” he calls, and you hear his forehead land on the wood as though to brace himself. “I’ve tried everything else, okay? It always works with you. I just…I wanted to try. See if it still does.”
You frown. “You realize how wildly inappropriate this is, right? Asking if you can come in just so we can sleep together?”
“Yeah, but that’s all I want to do. Sleep,” he insists again. “Really. I’ll keep my hands to myself and I won’t even talk to you.”
You consider this. Truthfully, you haven’t slept all that well since the breakup, either. And sure, you’ve longed for the nights when the two of you would fall into such an easy, simple, and incredibly effective routine. 
But he broke your heart. And now you’re both paying the price.
“Just one night,” he pleads again. “And if it doesn’t work, I swear I won’t bother you ever again.”
There’s a subtle ache in your chest. Just hearing his voice reminds you of the pain. Of the joy. Of every good moment and every bad one, all wrapped up in the same silky cadence.
You take a deep breath. Perhaps you’re curious, too. Even if you don’t want to be. Because maybe this will work. Maybe you’ll finally be able to rest and get on with your life.
Or maybe it won’t.
But at least if it doesn’t, maybe you can find some closure.
So, with that thought…you open the door. 
He looks worse than you’ve ever seen him. Which makes you just a touch happy if you’re being honest with yourself. His usual curls are askew and unkept. The bags under his eyes are dark and his clothes are wildly wrinkled.
And you’re surprised. He’s been up for longer than 32 hours before and handled it much better. You wonder if his age is catching up with him or if there’s something else keeping him awake.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
But you don’t fight with him. He’s not here to fight and you accept his terms as you widen the door and allow him to step inside.
He nods gratefully as he slips into your living room, but his eyes linger on your face. Almost like he doesn’t recognize you, and it makes your insides turn as you shut the door and put a few feet between you.
“What?” you huff.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know, you look…different.”
“Okay…?”
“You changed your hair.”
“Yeah.”
“Hm. It’s nice.”
You cross your arms. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Another pause, and the silence feels heavy.
“Well…do you wanna…?” you eventually say, and he nods.
“Right, yeah.”
“Okay.”
You turn to lead him to your room and it’s…unsettling how normal it feels. Like an old habit rearing its ugly head once again.
When you get there, his surprise returns. “You changed your room, too.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Why?”
Your eyes roll as you angrily toss your blankets back. “This is the one room I associated with you the most. And short of moving, I needed something you hadn’t touched or tainted. So I made the room mine again.”
He thinks about this, attention lingering on the new paint on the walls and the new furniture in each corner. “I like it.”
“I don’t care.”
He smiles. “I know.”
“Great. Can you get in the bed please so we can get this over with?”
Obliging, he slips off his shoes and joins you under the duvet. “Never thought I’d hear you say that again.”
“Never thought I’d have to say it.”
“Mm. You changed your mattress.”
“Obviously.”
“And the sheets and blankets, too.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Is there anything in here you didn’t change?”
“The carpet. But only because my landlord said I couldn’t.”
“Right.” He’s smiling again. “But you did get a rug.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s nice.”
“Bite me.”
He laughs now and you want to smack him. “I see you still get grumpy when you’re tired.”
“No, I get grumpy when my asshole of an ex shows up to my apartment at 3 in the morning demanding to be let in so he can sleep in my bed with me like a fucking child,” you argue. And you know you’re being snippy and maybe even rude, but he deserves it. After everything he’s put you through, you deserve to be in charge of your own emotions. 
You turn the lamp off and the dark room grows incredibly quiet. You’re both stiff, unable to relax when you’re this close. You don’t want to touch—not the way you used to. And you don’t want to be close or let your guard down, although you suppose you’ll have to in order to sleep.
And then he says, “I really did try, you know. To find another way to sleep.”
You look up at the ceiling and release a soft exhale. “Okay.”
“Melatonin, light therapy, cut out coffee. Even drank those…sleep mocktail things everyone talks about.” He shifts. “I don’t know, I guess my brain just wouldn’t turn off.”
“Yeah. I know.”
More quiet.
“I haven’t done any since we broke up,” he finally says. Gentle, like he’s afraid to break the silence. 
Your lashes flutter. He doesn’t have to say it for you to know what he means. “Great.”
“Yeah.” Another beat. “I thought it was work, I guess. Maybe the stress or something. I’ve been sleeping fine, but these past couple weeks…”
“Right.”
“And I just figured—”
“No, I got it. It’s fine, let’s just…let’s just try to sleep,” you say and he nods.
The bedroom settles and you try, you really do. But you can’t when he’s breathing so goddamn loud and shifting every two seconds and sighing like he’s in pain.
“What?” you eventually hiss.
“Are you dating someone?” he asks.
“What?”
“Are you dating someone?” he repeats. “Josie said you were.”
You hesitate. “I don’t know. Kind of. I guess.”
“You guess?”
“We’re…we’ve been on a few dates. It’s not official.”
“He hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend?”
“Why does it matter?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t. I just figure you deserve someone that actually wants to date you.”
“Oh, do I?” You roll your head to look at him. “Funny, you didn’t seem to think so when you were dating me.”
“All right, touché,” he mumbles. “I could have been better, I know that. And I know I took advantage. You did a lot for me and I didn’t…I didn’t care.”
Surprised, you twist your fingers together. “Uh…yeah. Right. Thank you.”
His head rolls, too. And even with the dim-light, his eyes find yours. “I’m sorry, Poppy. You really did deserve better than me. And if you found it with this guy…I’ll be happy for you.”
You swallow before sighing to yourself. “I mean, I don’t know if I did. He’s…he’s really nice. But he’s so…he’s just…”
“Vanilla?”
Your eyes widen. “Yeah. How did you—”
“He was wearing Crocs with tube socks.”
You laugh—loud. “Oh my god, how did you know?”
“I might have looked him up,” he admits through a grin. “Wanted to make sure he was worth your time.”
“Yeah? And?”
“And he wears Crocs with tube socks. He can’t make you cum.”
Your features scrunch together as you gasp and look away. “Ew, Harry. It’s not about that—”
“It’s always about that. Come on, am I wrong?”
“You—yes. What he wears has nothing to do with what he’s like in bed—”
“So he’s not vanilla?”
“He’s…” You pause. “He…look, he really tries—”
“So, he is,” Harry finishes for you. “Well, at least you got some.”
“I…yeah. Uh-huh.”
Instantly, he turns onto his side, head resting in the palm of his hand as he studies you. “He couldn’t get it up, could he?”
“Harry,” you groan, and reach out to swat him. “Stop, it wasn’t that. We just…we were taking things slow. We did some stuff. Just not…all of it.”
“So what he’d do?”
“Harry—”
“Come on, we’re adults, just tell me.”
“Ew, no—”
“Listen, you used to get fucked good. I’m just trying to help you get back to that.”
You frown but do oblige. “I don’t know. He ate me out and I blew him. That’s it.”
“And…?”
“And…I don’t know. He was fine. He was good.”
“Sure.”
Your eyes roll. “Okay, he…he wasn’t really all that into it. He stopped after a few seconds and asked if I came. Then he said his jaw was tired and that maybe we should just switch.”
Now, Harry’s features scrunch, too. “Shit. What a fucking pussy. Ironically.”
“I guess. It could have been worse.”
“Really? Eating you out was always my favorite. What kind of asshole just stops if he doesn’t have to?”
You feel a rush of heat through your body as you look away. “I guess they can’t all be you.”
“Damn fucking right,” he scoffs. “Seriously, you still wanted to see him after that?”
“He’s cute,” you argue. “And nice. And yeah, maybe he’s not that adventurous but that’s okay. I don’t need wild sex all the time.”
He’s quiet. “How about just one time?”
You turn back. “What?”
“I—okay, I was just thinking…you know, one of the things we would do when we couldn’t sleep was…fuck, so—”
“Oh, absolutely not.” You sit up, as though to put some distance between you. “No. Forget it—”
“Poppy—”
“Don’t call me that,” you huff. “You don’t get to call me that ever again. Okay, I’m not gonna fuck you just so we can sleep—”
“It wouldn’t be just for that,” he argues, sitting up as well. “It would also help your mood, too—”
“Oh, my mood?” You glare at him. “My mood is just fine, actually. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty good if I agreed to let you in my apartment in the first place—”
“You didn’t have to. I’m just saying, if sex with him is gonna be bland, might as well get in one last good fuck before you commit to a lifetime of boring—”
“Oh, my god. It’s not a lifetime and you’re a fucking asshole—”
“Yeah. We’ve established that. Doesn’t change the fact that you need it.”
You stare at him. “Is that why you’re really here? To trick me into sleeping with you?”
He leans back. “What? No. I don’t trick people into having sex, it was just a suggestion—”
“Yeah, a pretty dumb one. Did you honestly think I’d say yes?”
“Yeah,” he admits haughtily. “Yeah, because we didn’t break up over the sex. We broke up because you’re an uptight—”
“What? Say it,” you sneer. “Say it. I’m an uptight bitch because I wouldn’t let you do cocaine.”
He scoffs again and looks off into the dark of your room. The argument lulls. “I could never do anything right.”
“That wasn’t the problem and you know it.” You pull your legs to your chest. “I wanted to move forward and you kept going back. You’re almost 30 and you still act like you’re 19.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to get married and do the whole white picket fence life,” he says. “Maybe I liked things the way they were—”
“No. No, you liked parties with your friends and doing drugs that kept you up for hours  and getting fired and leaving me to pay all the bills—”
“You didn’t pay all the bills and I told you I would do what I could to help—”
“Yeah. But apparently that included getting fucked up and staying out all night just to crash the next day.” You study him closely. “You were never around anymore. I never saw you. We were on two different paths and the only time we ever talked was when you asked if I wanted to fuck.”
“So, that’s it, huh? I’m just a villain in your story. You were this perfect fucking princess, and I was a monster that ruined your life?”
“No, obviously not. I wasn’t perfect. I know that.”
“Do you?” His eyes flick between yours. “You didn’t want me to move forward with you. You liked your new job and your new friends because they didn’t remind you of me. Of who we both used to be.”
“So? I’m not proud of what I used to do. And sure, maybe I wanted to make a better impression on the people paying my salary and keeping me employed. Is that such a fucking crime?”
“No. But you didn’t want me to be a part of that impression and you know it.”
“Right. Because you were shit-faced all the time.”
He opens his mouth, ready to retort. But then he closes it. He closes it and he stares at you and then…he surges forward.
Even if you were given at least two seconds to prepare, you’re not prepared for the way his hands feel on your cheeks as he kisses you. As he presses his lips to yours and steals the labored breaths in your lungs.
But you don’t fight him. You know you should. Know you should push him off and berate him. Yet you let him kiss you. And you kiss him back. And it’s far too easy to slip back into this routine as his tongue slides against yours in such a teasing way.
Your stomach flips while your hands land on his lap. You’re desperate to be closer, to feel his body against yours. His skin, and the way it melts beneath your palms like butter. You dance this devious dance and before you know it, you’re stripping each other of the few clothes you have.
He starts with your shirt. Ripping it over your head before his mouth lands on your chest. Bare and beautiful to him. His kisses are wet and sloppy and you arch yourself closer as you drag your fingers down his scalp.
The only reason he stops is to let you peel his t-shirt off, too. And then his jeans and socks. And you move so fluidly, you’re nearly naked in under a minute. The only thing left between you now his underwear and yours.
He lays you down, gentle. Surprisingly gentle, given the anger that brought you here. And he gazes at you in a soft, unspoken way that says everything you don’t exactly know how to say. 
His fingers brush down your cheek as his body settles atop yours. He still fits between your legs like he was always meant to and the weight of him almost feels good.
“Are you all right?” he finally whispers, and he doesn’t sound like the same man from before. He sounds like the man you fell in love with. “Is this okay?”
You nod quickly, scared that if you think about it, you’ll ruin it. “Yeah. Go.”
He doesn’t. “We don’t have to,” he says. “You were right, it’s probably a dumb idea—”
“Yeah, but…it always works.” You shift beneath him and reach for his briefs, rolling them down his hips. “And I’m tired. Tired of fighting with you, tired of not getting any sleep…tired of pretending I hate you. You were right, our sex is good. So let’s do it. And then we can sleep. And we can finally move on.”
Not the most romantic of speeches, but it works. At least right now. He kisses you again and drags your underwear aside in order to tease you with the tip of his cock.
He feels like you remember. And maybe you find just a touch of comfort in that. There are no awkward pauses or confusion about what to do next. You don’t have to find your rhythm or anticipate the next step. You know him. And he knows you.
Your rub your clit in order to stimulate yourself. You aren’t exactly wet enough for this to be enjoyable, but you don’t expect him to do what he did before. The foreplay is up to you now and you’re more than all right with that.
However, he’s not. And he instantly swats your hand away in order to do it himself. Allowing his fingers to drag up and down your pussy until you shiver before he slips the tip of his middle finger inside.
“Shit,” he whispers. His forehead drops to yours. “Fucking missed this.”
You bite the inside of your lip to keep from grinning. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He starts to pump, bending your body to his salacious intentions until the unmistakable sound of wetness echoes throughout the room. “I know you missed it, too.”
“Hm. Don’t push it.”
“Why not?” He presses a kiss to your cheek. Then to your jaw. Your lips. Your nose. Your neck. Everywhere you used to love. “Are you really gonna tell me you didn’t?” 
“Maybe.”
“So Crocs with Tube Socks is better, huh?”
“…not exactly.”
“Right.” He adds a second finger and your eyes roll back. “Don’t worry, Poppy, I’ll fix it.”
“Don’t…call me that,” you pant again, and he chuckles.
“Don’t know what else to call you. You were always my pretty Poppy.”
“But now I’m not,” you say. “Now you call me nothing. Because I’m not yours to call.”
He sighs but does seem to obey, at least for now. And the faster he thrusts his hand, the needier this growing feeling becomes. Stronger and louder until you finally grab onto his shoulders and say, “Just put it in already.”
He smirks. “How romantic.”
“It’s not supposed to be. Just come on.”
So, he does. He takes hold of his cock and he slips it through the gathering arousal until he can push in. And you both reel.
Truthfully, you’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s turned on. The way he groans and grits his teeth together. The way the muscles in his arms strain until you can see those beautiful veins you used to love to run your tongue over. 
He’s stunning. Even now, in the soft light of the moon through your curtains. His silhouette is unholy as it hovers above you. Strong hips beginning to thrust as you both work in tandem to find release.
And it’s closer than you expected. There’s something about him that can get you there even without much effort. Something Crocs with Tube Socks could never seem to figure out. 
Because he’s not Harry. And only Harry can play you like an instrument and make such symphonic music all with the flick of his finger and a thrust of his cock.
He kisses you again and you both feel anxious. Soft murmurings of praise and, “Keep going,” that have you arching from the bed and moaning into his mouth.
You’re sweating and gasping for air and clutching onto his back as you attempt to meet his rhythm with rolls of your own. You need this. You need to cum so you can find release and you need to cum so you can finally sleep and you need to cum because then you’ll finally be able to let him go. To close the door on the chapter of you and Harry and move the fuck on.
But how can you move on when you’re still under him? How can you insist that you’re fine and doing great if you’re so easily convinced to fuck him just so you can both get some sleep?
There are other remedies to insomnia that don’t involve his cock and maybe you should have tried that before you let him into your apartment. 
Either way, you’re coming before you can think twice about it. Raking your nails down his back and whimpering his name as he pulls out and finishes on your thigh. 
And just like that…
It’s over.
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You find him in the kitchen about an hour later. You managed to sleep at least a few minutes before you felt the sadistic hand of insomnia pull you back out. But when you woke, Harry was gone. His clothes were still on the floor, so you knew he hadn’t left. But he wasn’t with you.
He’s staring out your kitchen window when you slip into the living room. You’re not sure if he hears you or not but if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he keeps himself braced against the sink, clad in nothing more than his briefs.
Curious, you call, “What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head. Silent. Contemplative. “I used to love this window,” he eventually says. Soft, like he’s reminiscing. “The way the light looked in the morning. The way your little crystals would put rainbows on the wall and you’d get so excited. How you’d make me dance with you to some Elton John song while we were literally in the middle of cooking.”
You blink. “Um…okay.”
He turns and his eyes find yours. “I fucking loved this apartment. And this kitchen. And that couch. And your room. And even the hallway. I loved being here, all the time. I hated going back to my place because it never felt the same.”
The silence grows louder now as you look down at your feet and pull your robe just a bit tighter. “I know,” you finally whisper. “That’s why I changed it.”
“I know,” he whispers back. His expression falls. “You changed everything. This apartment, your life…us.”
“Because I had to,” you argue, glancing back up. “I had to, Harry. I couldn’t keep going in circles. I couldn’t drag you along behind me into the future when you clearly wanted to be anywhere else.” 
“Because the future you always painted didn’t seem to have room for me,” he huffs. “Okay, with all these dinner parties and fancy houses and good school districts. You’d planned out the next 30 years and I didn’t see myself anywhere in your picture.”
“I didn’t fucking care about the parties or the school districts,” you nearly yell. “God, I—I didn’t want the white picket fence life. I didn’t want the 1950’s American Dream shit you keep thinking I did. I just wanted you. Yes, I wanted a good job with insurance and stability. But I wasn’t gonna trade what we had just for that—”
“But you did. You didn’t tell your parents we’d moved in together. You didn’t even tell half of our friends. You went on trips without me and you stopped telling me about your day and we never talked—”
“Because you were never around! You were either out with your friends getting drunk or high or you were in there playing video games because you’d had a ‘hard day.’ So, no. I didn’t want to talk to you when I knew you weren’t even listening in the first place.”
 He leans against the counter and crosses his arms. Angry. Indignant. “You resented me. You resented the fact that we were together and you resented that I wasn’t perfect like your precious new friends—”
“Oh, that’s—” You pinch the bridge of your nose and force in a deep breath. “No. I didn’t want you to be like them. I didn’t want you to act pretentious and stuffy and talk about the stock market every goddamn second of the day. The only thing I resented…was the fact that you wouldn’t take care of yourself.”
“I was taking care of myself—”
“Bullshit. You were doing drugs—you were doing cocaine—and you weren’t eating, you weren’t sleeping, you nearly drunk yourself to death—”
“Right, but I wasn’t doing it all the time. It was just…it was occasionally, and it wasn’t a lot—”
“I don’t care. You shouldn’t have been doing it at all, Harry,” you finally shout. “You…you scared the shit out of me. Every time one of your friends would call and say you were passed out, I thought…I thought this was it. I thought I was gonna lose you. Do you know how many times I just sat on the floor and cried because I was so scared? Because you never wanted to listen when I told you to stop? Because you were so sure you were invincible?”
He seems pained by this, features wilting as he takes a tentative step forward. But he stops when you move back. “Poppy, I wasn’t trying to scare you, I…I didn’t know—”
“Yes, you did,” you scoff. “I told you, over and over that I didn’t want to lose you, but you thought I was being dramatic.”
He nods once. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yeah. I am.” He looks at you. “S’why I stopped after we broke up. You were right, I needed to get my shit together.”
You nod, too. “Good. I’m glad.”
His gaze dances around the kitchen. “I hate that you changed everything,” he says again, and your heart wrenches. “I hate that it doesn’t look like it used to. I hate that I hurt you so bad that you felt like you had to erase everything I ever touched.”
You step closer and wipe a tear from your cheek. “Yeah, I hate it, too. I hate that I had to. I hate that stupid mattress and I hate that my kitchen doesn’t look like a rainbow anymore and I really fucking hate that I have no one to dance with when I cook.”
His eyes soften as they find yours and in only a few seconds, he’s reaching for the belt on your robe and tugging you to him. Wrapping you in his arms as he presses you against his chest, the way he always used to when you were sad.
“No,” you argue weakly, although you do nothing to stop him. “No, you can’t…you can’t—”
“Yes, I can,” he retorts quietly. You feel his lips press to the top of your head. “You don’t get to cry over me anymore. You’re better than that now. You did what I couldn’t. You moved on. And I don’t get to ruin that for you.”
You sniffle as you run your hand down his stomach. “It wasn’t about moving on. I just needed to learn how to be strong enough for both of us.”
“Poppy,” he breathes and holds you tighter. “You shouldn’t have to be.”
And deep down…you know he’s right.
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“Shit, just like that…a little closer. Good girl, hold yourself open for me, baby. Yeah.”
Doing your best to oblige, you slip your fingers between your folds as Harry nudges his nose closer. Kissing his way along your thighs before allowing his tongue to lick a very generous stripe up your pussy.
Round 2 is on the couch. Harry wanted the kitchen counter—nearly insisted on it, in fact—but you knew you didn’t want to ruin your favorite breakfast spot. And you weren’t about to just for him.
So, the couch it was. He complained about it as you got settled. He hates this new couch, too. The color, the lumpy cushions, the way it feels like you’re sinking when you sit. 
You told him you didn’t care. You loved it and if it annoyed him, that was a bonus.
Thankfully, he swallowed his complaints in favor of swallowing you. He tossed your robe open and pulled your thighs apart. And then he buried himself between the warmth of your pussy the way he always used to.
And you decided that maybe you don’t mind insomnia so much if this is the remedy.
“Missed this, too,” he says now as he nips at your clit. “God, you’ve always tasted so fucking good. S’fucking crazy, baby. Can’t ever get enough.”
“Sure,” you snort, head dropping back. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls—”
“No.” He shakes his head and his nose nudges the sensitive nerves as you whine. “No, there’s no other girls. Come on, did you really think there could be?”
“With a mouth like that? Yeah,” you admit. He laughs. “That’s how we met. You were such—fuck—such a player.”
“Maybe,” he concedes before mouthing at you again. “But nobody else has ever made me feel the way you do.”
You snort. “Where’d you learn that line?”
“It’s not a line. It’s the truth.”
“Harry. Come on. I know you.”
“Then you should know I don’t say shit I don’t mean.” He smooths his palms down your thighs in order to spread you just a bit further and see the way your hole flutters. “Oh, pretty girl. S’just drenched, hm? All sensitive from the last one…need Daddy to make it better?”
You scrunch your nose. “You don’t get to call yourself that anymore.”
“No?” He grins. “Why not?”
“Because I hate you and Daddy is reserved for someone I like.”
He tsks. “I don’t know, kind of seems like you still like it. Keep clenching around my tongue like you wanna hear me say it again.”
You hesitate as you weave your fingers through his curls. “Never.”
He hums and the vibration against your cunt makes your thighs twitch. “Come on, baby. Don’t be mean to Daddy.”
You want to glare. Slap at him, refuse him. But he’s right—you have missed the moniker. If only just because of how good he sounds when he says it. So, you let him tease you and taunt you as he tastes you. You let him do whatever the hell he wants because your second orgasm feels stronger than the first and you don’t imagine you’ll survive this one. 
He slips a finger in as well. Beckons your pleasure closer with every curl of the large digit. It’s practiced. He sucks and licks and nips and thrusts and curls and pumps all at the same time.
Then, he pulls back and brings his palm down in a sharp smack to your pussy. 
“Stop squirming,” he instructs, then shoots you an obviously pleased frown. “Don’t be a brat.”
“M’not,” you whimper. “Not a brat…just wanna cum.”
“Do you, hm?” He licks you again then adds two fingers. “Should I let you?”
“Obviously.”
“Obviously?” He’s smirking now as he starts to go faster. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do deserve it. Yeah? After being so nice as to let me in.”
You pout. “Mhm.”
He’s so happy. He’s always his happiest when he’s suffocating himself with your pussy. He does everything he knows you love. He leaves teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs. He slaps at your leg, your clit, your hip. He helps rock you against his tongue and even lifts you from the couch to find a deeper angle. 
And he does all of this out of sheer enjoyment. 
“Harry,” you whimper as you melt into the cushions. Your limbs feel like jello. The pleasure is everywhere, and he looks like a god. His face is covered in you, glistening about as bright as the stars.
“I know, Poppy,” he says. He kisses your pussy and then smiles at you. “I know.”
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You like the way Harry’s chest feels. Warm and soft and painted in the tattoos you used to trace with your finger.
He’s gently scratching your back as you both lay in bed. The room is quiet—you haven’t spoken in minutes. Still, neither of you can seem to find sleep and you know you’ll desperately need it soon. 
But this is nice. Even if it is the last time. You like getting to reminisce—pretend for even a moment that things are the way they used to be. When you were happy and safe and content to be together.
You weren’t sure you’d ever feel this kind of peace again.
“I missed you, too, you know,” he whispers after a moment.
You glance up. 
“I didn’t just miss your apartment. I missed you.” He takes a breath and runs his palm along your spine. “I miss our Sunday mornings and I miss when we’d watch scary movies just so we could make out and I miss the way you used to dance around in your underwear to some stupid musical you were obsessed with.”
You swallow a lump in your throat. “Har…”
“And I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I felt like…I felt like I was watching you do all these amazing things and I just couldn’t keep up. You were getting promoted and moving up and I was still at the fucking bar serving drinks. And you knew what you wanted to do. I didn’t.”
“I didn’t know,” you argue gently. “Not really. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t enjoy it the way I used to. I mean, I like that it pays the bills, but maybe that shouldn’t be enough.”
He presses his cheek to the top of your head. “You should do what makes you happy.”
“You used to make me happy.”
The soft strokes against your spine slow. 
“You did, Har,” you tell him. “So happy. That’s why I hated that we started fighting all of the time. I hated that you were gone or that I was gone or the fact that I was too ashamed to tell you that I missed you. And that I was scared we were losing each other.”
“Maybe we needed to lose each other,” he says and you feel sick. “Maybe we needed to be apart to see what we really wanted.”
You think about this. The idea sounds nice. Inviting. A happy end to a rather dreadful story.
But you both know better. Five months has taught you better.
“There’s a reason we broke up,” you finally murmur. “We didn’t…we didn’t like each other anymore. We were holding each other back—”
“I liked you,” he says softly. “I loved you. Yeah, I was mad, but I didn’t just stop loving you.” 
“Maybe you should have. Maybe it would have been easier for us and we wouldn’t be…here.”
More silence. It stretches for what feels like hours.
And then, “I can’t sleep because of you.”
You suck in a quiet breath. “What?”
“When Josie told me that you were seeing someone, I couldn’t…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And she showed me a picture she took of you guys and you were so happy. Smiling at him like you used to smile at me and I just…I didn’t know what to do.”
Another pause. You don’t know what to say.
“I put my fist through a wall,” he tells you. “And somehow, that still didn’t hurt as much as knowing you’d moved on.”
You snake your arm around his middle and snuggle closer. “Harry, you knew we both had to move on eventually.”
“Did we?”
“Harry…”
“But so soon? It’s only been five months.”
“Yeah. Five months to grieve you and cry over you and realize I did this for you.” You close your eyes. Tight. “We’re better people now.”
“No, we’re tired people now,” he teases, and you smile. “And I think I’ll be losing sleep over you for the rest of my life.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I mean it. I’m always gonna think about you. Think about what I did wrong. What I could have done better.”
“I fucked up, too,” you argue. “I should have told my parents. And our friends. I should have talked to you more, asked you to do more things together. You’re right, I was ashamed of you. Of this…routine we’d fallen into. And I’m sorry.”
He says nothing. After all, there’s nothing more to say.
But he kisses the crown of your head and it speaks louder than any words.
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“Fuck…fuck, Poppy, please—”
You grin as you lick your lips. He’s always sounded the most beautiful when he’s begging. And his best begging always tends to happen when his cock is down your throat. 
“What, Daddy?” you ask innocently. “What do you need me to do?”
His eyes roll back and he grips the sheets in his fist. “Please…”
You reposition yourself over his legs as you dip back down to have another taste. You lick and you suck and you stroke until he’s making another strained noise that sounds like sex.
You hope your neighbors can hear. You bet they missed him.
“Good boy,” you purr, squeezing his thighs as you take him even further. 
He sucks in a sharp breath through gritted teeth before his hand finds your hair and he squeezes. “Easy…easy, baby. S’been a while. Don’t hurt yourself—”
You respond to his instruction by inhaling through your nose and relaxing the muscles in your throat. Allowing him to hit the back the way he always used to.
His head drops into the pillows. “Shit—Poppy, I mean it. M’not gonna fuck your throat. It’s gonna hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.”
It’s an oddly thoughtful gesture but it does nothing for you now. Instead, you shake your head and pull off, a string of saliva dripping down his cock in your wake. “I’m fine, H. Trust me, I can take it.”
“Yeah?” He pushes up onto his elbows. “Is Crocs with Tube Socks hung or something?”
You grin. “No. But that dildo you got me last year is.”
He blinks. “You…fucking hell, you fuck your throat with that?”
“Mhm.” You swirl your tongue around his tip as he curses. “And then I fuck myself. And I pretend it’s you.”
He tightens his hold on your hair and forces your eyes back to his. “Are you serious?”
You nod, now feeling a touch shy as you wipe your mouth with your knuckles. “Yeah…I know that’s…probably weird, but…I mean, you got it for me, so I thought I’d be weirder to think about someone else—”
“No, it’s…” He stops. Struggles. “Shit, I really needed to hear that.”
“Oh, you did, huh?” 
“Yeah. I wouldn’t want you to think about anyone else when you used it, either. It’s got my fucking initials on it.”
You laugh, louder than you mean to and it makes him grin. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? It was a pretty good gift, I’ll admit.”
“S’a fucking perfect gift,” he retorts. “We had a lot of fun with that dildo.”
“We did indeed.”
“But apparently not as much fun as you’re having with it.”
“Fucking myself helps me sleep,” you remind him. “So sometimes it’s necessity.”
“Is that right?” 
“Mhm.” You squeeze the base and he twitches. “You used to watch me. Remember?”
“I do.” His eyes get darker. “Do you fuck yourself a lot?”
“…these days, yeah. Apparently, I can’t sleep all that well, either.”
“And does it work?”
“Most of the time, yeah.” You turn your attention back to his cock in order to avoid his curiosity before you quietly admit, “Sometimes I pretend you’re here. Sleeping next to me. And…that helps, too.”
He reaches for your wrist and pulls your attention back. “Poppy—”
“No, don’t look at me like that, it’s dumb—”
“I imagine you, too.”
You blink. “You do?”
“Every night. Except the past couple weeks. Cause now I just think about you and him. And then I can’t fucking sleep.”
You turn your hand so your fingers brush through his. “Shit. We’re a mess.”
He smiles. “Yeah.”
The conversation falls away as you dip back down to resume your work. Squeezing his balls, moaning as you take him on your tongue, and milking him for every last drop. 
Turns out, you missed the taste of him, too.
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Morning comes before either of you find a moment of rest. But you can feel yourself growing tired. Your eyelids are beginning to droop, and your body feels incredibly spent. 
Turns out, round 4 is where the magic happened. He brought out your favorite vibrator and teased your poor, swollen clit with it until you squirted. It was easy and quick and he seemed rather delighted to be bathed in you.
Until, of course, you insist on an actual bath to clean you both.
The shower felt good. The warm water washing away the sticky sweat on your skin. And the two of you fell back into a similar routine. He ran the soap down your arms and you washed his curls with your favorite shampoo. A shampoo he claimed he looked everywhere for after you broke up but could never find.
He said he missed the smell. The way it made his hair so soft. And the way it would make his pillowcase smell just like you.
You were grateful that the shower hid your tears.
You both crashed on the couch after you had dried off. The sheets still needed to be cleaned and neither of you could be bothered. But, as it turned out, the couch was growing on him. And he begrudgingly admitted it was rather comfy as the two of you curled up in your usual spot. 
You know you’re both close to sleep. Finally, after all your efforts to get here. But you also know that once you wake up, Harry will leave. 
And there’s a chance you won’t see him again.
You know that nothing has changed. The two of you still want different things, even if you want each other. And you hate that that’s not enough. That what you want and what you should want don’t align.
Instead, he’ll move on with his life and you’ll move on with yours.
But you don’t want to learn how to fall asleep without him.
“Make me a deal,” you whisper.
He hums. Lashes shut tight as the morning light slips in through the window. “What?”
“If I wake up, and you’re still here…we do this again. Not…as a couple. But as two broken humans that find rest with each other.”
His eyes open.
“But if you’re gone,” you continue, “then we don’t. We don’t do it again, we don’t see each other again, we don’t reach out again. We cut ties. Officially. Block and move on. For real.”
He seems saddened by this, and you hate that you’ve made him sad. But you both know it’s for the best. This won’t be sustainable in the long run. And maybe it’s a bad idea to continue at all, but maybe you want to hold on to him anyway. At least for a little while.
Even if it’s just as friends.
Exes.
Two broken humans that used to make each other whole.
His lips press together and he nods once. “Deal,” he agrees, and you can tell by the look on his face, he’s already made a decision.
You aren’t sure which way, but you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. So, you allow your eyes to fall shut and your dreams to take hold. Melting into his arms and into the sofa as you finally find sleep quicker than you have in months.
You’re not sure how long you’re out. It feels like hours. A heavy slumber that leaves you rather refreshed as your eyes eventually flutter open. 
You don’t see Harry as you slowly adjust to your surroundings. And you don’t feel him, either. But you’re too afraid to really look. To sit up and realize that he’s gone. For good.
And then, just when you think you’ve lost him…you hear the most beautiful sound in the world.
“Good morning, Poppy.”
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pucksandpower · 1 month
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Bet on It
Charles Leclerc x Marko!Reader
Summary: Charles will do anything for you to finally give him the time of day … even if that means betting on himself to pull off the impossible in exchange for a date with you
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“Charles, don’t even start,” you raise your hand to stop him before he can get the words out.
His mouth closes and he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes, like a sad little boy who just got told he can’t have ice cream before dinner.
You have to resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think that’s going to work on you? You’ve seen that look a hundred times before, whenever you turn him down for a date.
Which is every time he’s asked.
“Come on, Y/N,” he pleads. “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking for.”
You shake your head, arms crossed over your chest. “Nope, not gonna happen.”
He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. That tousled mop looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in days. Somehow he manages to make the just-rolled-out-of-bed look work.
“Give me one good reason why not,” he challenges.
“I’ll give you three,” you fire back. “One, you’re an F1 driver, which means you have an ego the size of a not-so-small country. Two, you’re my team’s biggest rival. And three, you’re a player.”
He puts a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Moi? I would never.”
You fix him with a pointed stare and his innocent act crumbles.
“Okay fine, maybe I used to be,” he admits. “But I’m not like that anymore. I’m ready to settle down, and I want to do that with you.”
“Uh huh, sure you are,” you say skeptically. “I’m not some pitlane groupie. I don’t just fall all over myself for handsome drivers with dreamy eyes.”
His face lights up. “You think I have dreamy eyes?”
You feel your cheeks flush. Crap. You did not mean to let that slip out.
“That’s not the point,” you say quickly. “The point is, the answer is no. It’s always going to be no. So you can stop asking me out already.”
You turn on your heel to walk away, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist. You pause, looking back at him.
“Just one date,” he says again, green eyes boring into yours. “Give me a chance to prove myself. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll never ask you out again.”
You consider his offer. One date, that’s all he’s asking for. And really, what’s the harm? It’s not like you have to marry the guy if you go to dinner with him once.
Still … this is Charles Leclerc you’re dealing with. Who knows what kind of charms and flirtatious tricks he’d pull out to try and win you over? You know you find him attractive — those eyes really are dreamy — but getting involved with him would be messy, to say the least. Your grandfather would flip.
“I don’t think so,” you say firmly. “Like I already told you, it’s not going to happen.”
His face falls. For a second you feel a twinge of guilt. He looks so dejected. But then that spark of mischief is back in his eyes. Uh oh. You know that look. The wheels are turning. He’s got an idea.
“Okay, how about we make this interesting,” he says slowly. “If I win the race this weekend, you have to go on a date with me.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. Is he serious right now?
“Let me get this straight … you want to make a bet involving the outcome of the race, when it’s at the Red Bull Ring, our team’s home track, where Max has won four times in the last six seasons? With the rocket ship of a car that is the RB20?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”
He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I never said it was a sure thing. But if I manage to pull it off, then you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”
You consider his proposition. On the one hand, the chances of him winning in the Ferrari this weekend are not great. Statistically, Max is the clear favorite. So there’s really no risk of you actually having to go on a date with Charles.
On the other hand, you have to admit the idea is intriguing. And knowing Charles beat the odds to win would be kinda hot ...
Wait, what are you thinking? Get it together, Y/N! This is a terrible idea.
But before you can talk yourself out of it, you hear yourself saying, “Alright, you’re on.”
A wide grin spreads across Charles’ handsome face. “Yeah? We have a bet then?”
You nod, already wondering if you’ve made a huge mistake. “Yep. But don’t look so cocky. The chances of you winning are like a million to one.”
“We’ll see about that,” he says with a wink. Then he glances down at his watch. “I better go. See you in part fermé after the race.”
He turns and saunters off. You watch him go, heart sinking. What on earth have you just agreed to?
***
Your stomach is in knots on race day. You tried to play it cool in front of Charles, but the truth is, you are desperately hoping he does not win this race. One date with him and you know you’ll be a goner. You’re already more attracted to him than you want to admit.
You watch from the Red Bull garage as the cars go around on the formation lap. Charles is starting P5, with Max on pole. The odds are heavily in the World Champion’s favor.
But still … plenty of drivers have won from worse positions. And this is Charles Leclerc you’re talking about. When he sets his mind to something, he’s unstoppable.
The red lights go out and Max gets a clean start, streaking away into the lead. Charles has a decent launch off the line too, but he can’t challenge Max going into turn 1. He slots into P5 behind Lando Norris as they thunder down the straight for the first time.
Your grandfather shoots you a look from across the garage, one eyebrow quirked. He knows about the bet. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when you told him, but amusement seemed to win out over anger in the end. Probably because he’s just as confident as you are that Charles has no chance today.
The race unfolds lap after lap. Max opens up a huge gap while fighting rages behind him. Charles battles with the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton, exchanging positions several times. By lap 20, Charles is up to P4, having pulled off a stellar overtake around the outside of turn 7.
Half distance comes and goes. Charles is closing in on Checo and George Russell ahead of him. He’s clearly got the bit between his teeth today. You watch with bated breath as he pulls alongside the Red Bull and Mercedes into turn 4, the three drivers going wheel to wheel with barely any room to spare. Charles emerges ahead and suddenly he’s P2.
Your grandfather shoots you another look. “He’s on the podium,” he remarks.
You bite your lip. You don’t need the reminder. Ugh, you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.
With 15 laps to go, Max’s engine unexpectedly lets go in a plume of smoke. Your grandfather curses while the Red Bull mechanics stare at the screens in disbelief. Charles swoops through into P1 with Checo behind him, the Ferrari now running up a solid lead.
Barring disaster, Charles is going to win this race. Which means you’re going to have to go on a date with him.
You watch the final laps tick down with growing dread. The checkered flag waves and the Ferrari garage erupts in celebration. Charles pulls the car to a stop and rips off his helmet, beaming from ear to ear. Even from here you can see the pure joy and elation on his face.
He jumps out of the cockpit and is immediately mobbed by his team. You try to slip away unnoticed, but one of the Ferrari press officers flags you down.
“Charles wants to see you for the podium celebration,” he says.
You close your eyes briefly in defeat. There’s no getting out of this now. Slowly you follow the man out to the cool down room. Charles is just coming out, still flushed with victory. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.
“I told you I could do it,” he crows, pulling you into an exuberant hug before you can protest. He smells like petrol and sweat.
“Yeah, yeah, congratulations,” you mumble into his race suit.
He grins down at you. “Don’t look so sad. I promise you’ll have fun.”
You force a smile, but inside your heart is sinking. One date with Charles and you know you’ll never be able to resist him again.
The podium passes in a blur. You manage to avoid any interviews, not trusting yourself not to say something you’ll regret on camera. Like what a cocky, arrogant, too-handsome-for-his-own-good flirt Charles is.
After what feels like an eternity of spraying champagne and cheering crowds, Charles finally finds you again. His hair is still damp and curled wildly from the celebratory drink.
Charles playfully wipes a splash of sparkling wine from your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment.
“Sorry about that,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.
You just shake your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. His joy is infectious.
“I believe you owe me a date,” he says, looking far too pleased with himself.
You sigh, resigned to your fate. “I guess I did make a deal. When do you want to do this?”
“No time like the present.” He glances at his watch. “I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice.”
Your eyes widen. Tonight? You were hoping to have a little more time to mentally prepare yourself. But before you can object, he leans in and presses a swift kiss to your cheek.
“See you tonight, Y/N.”
Then he’s gone, strolling back to the Ferrari garage like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, your heart is thudding against your ribs. You touch your cheek where his lips branded your skin.
You just hope you have the strength not to give in to his charms completely. One date. That’s it. You are not going to fall for Charles Leclerc.
No matter how dreamy his eyes are.
***
The doorbell rings at 7pm sharp. You take a deep breath and smooth down your dress before opening the door.
Charles stands there looking unfairly handsome in a sharp charcoal suit. His eyes light up when he sees you.
“Wow,” he says, gaze traveling appreciatively over you. “You look amazing.”
You feel yourself blush. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He grins and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”
You loop your hand through his elbow and let him lead you to his car. He opens the door for you like a true gentleman. This sweet, chivalrous side is one you’ve never seen before. Already he’s subverting your expectations.
During the drive, Charles asks you questions and listens intently to your answers. He’s completely focused on you, making you feel like the most fascinating person in the world. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, a lovely Italian place near the city center, you’re feeling much more at ease.
Dinner passes enjoyably with playful, flirtatious conversation. Charles has you laughing one minute and blushing the next with his charm and undivided attention. He seems to know just what to say to make you smile. Not an ounce of cockiness or ego shows through.
After you polish off a shared tiramisu, Charles suggests a walk through the nearby park. You happily agree. As you stroll beneath the trees, he tentatively reaches for your hand. When you thread your fingers through his, the smile that lights up his face melts your heart.
You talk softly, learning more about each other. He asks thoughtful questions and shares things about himself that surprise you. Like his close relationship with his family, his secret talent for cooking (which you don’t believe for a second), and his love for composing music.
When he shyly admits he’s never felt this way about anyone before, you don’t doubt his sincerity for a moment. He means every word.
Too soon you’ve looped back to where you started and flag down the valet before making the drive back to the hotel. Charles walks you to your door, still holding your hand like he never wants to let go.
“I had a really nice time tonight,” you say softly.
“Me too.” He moves closer, searching your eyes. “I’d really like to see you again.”
Your breath catches at his closeness and the intensity in his gaze. The wise thing would be to end this now before it goes any further. But his hopeful, heart eyes crumble your resolve.
“I’d like that too,” you whisper.
A smile blooms on his face right before he leans in and kisses you. It’s soft and sweet, sending tingles down to your toes. When he pulls back, eyes shining, you know you’re a goner.
One date turns into two, then three, then suddenly you’re spending every weekend together, traveling between races. Charles goes out of his way to meet up with you, even when it means long flights in between events. Holding you in his arms seems to be the only thing that matters.
When he shyly asks you to be his girlfriend, you don’t hesitate a second before saying yes. The kiss he gives you leaves no doubt about his happiness.
Your grandfather is wary at first, but Charles is relentless, assuring him at every chance how deeply he cares about you. Eventually Helmut accepts that the man gazing at you like you hung the stars is nothing like the flirtatious playboy he assumed.
This is the real Charles — sweet, thoughtful, and absolutely devoted.
The two of you become inseparable. Charles arrives at every race with your hand clasped in his, making sure to greet your grandfather before and after with a handshake and sincere well wishes. He stays close through successes and disappointments, as you become his steadfast supporter.
At night you lay tangled together, talking late into the darkness. He whispers secrets no one else knows and you bare your soul in return. You’ve never felt more understood by someone. In his arms is your favorite place in the world.
When he shyly gives you a key to his Monaco apartment, tears fill your eyes. Calling it home feels as natural as breathing.
Whenever you walk through the door, his eyes light up like you’re the answer to every prayer. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as he whispers “I missed you.”
Charles looks at you like he’s seeing his future. “I want this forever,” he murmurs against your lips.
You look into those watercolor eyes and know you never stood a chance at resisting. “Me too.”
***
The new season kicks off and you’re thrilled to be back in the paddock with Charles. The only downside is having to part ways when you reach the garages, going to opposite sides of the divide.
You’ve gotten used to your Red Bull team gear. The colors are familiar, almost comforting. Charles has gently brought up the idea of you wearing Ferrari red instead, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. That would feel like the ultimate betrayal.
Charles accepts your decision with his usual grace. He knows how difficult this situation is for you, caught between loyalties. But the gleam in his eye tells you he hasn’t given up on swaying you yet.
Sure enough, as Monza approaches, Charles issues a new challenge.
“If I win our home race, you have to wear Ferrari merch next time,” he coaxes, punctuating his request with a kiss.
You pretend to think about it. “Hmm, I guess I could do that.” Seeing his smile light up melts your reluctance.
Charles takes pole position on Saturday, amping up the pressure. Still, you’re not too worried. Max has this in the bag.
Famous last words. You really should have learned better the first time.
Only Max doesn’t have it in the bag. Charles drives a flawless race and takes the victory, the Tifosi crowd exploding with delirious joy. Charles standing proudly atop the podium in front of the sea of fans is a sight you’ll never forget.
Now you have to hold up your end of the bargain.
The next race weekend you show up with a red Ferrari team shirt stretched across your shoulders, a matching cap gracing your head. You feel like a fraud, but a deal’s a deal.
You’re trying to sneak through the paddock unnoticed when a reporter flags you down.
“Y/N, care to explain the new look?” She asks, eyeing your outfit.
You shift awkwardly, grasping for words. “Oh, um, well ...”
Before you can formulate a response, an excited voice interrupts. “That’s my girl!”
Charles appears out of nowhere and throws an arm around you, beaming at the camera.
“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan.” He declares. “Even if they say they’re not, they are Ferrari fans.”
He emphasizes this point by planting a kiss directly on your mouth. You flush crimson but can’t help smiling against his lips.
Pulling back, he winks and shoots the camera a million dollar grin. “She looks good in red, no?”
With that he steers you away, leaving the reporter chuckling behind you.
“You’re terrible,” you scold Charles, but you’re laughing too.
He just grins and kisses your temple. “Maybe so, but I’m your terrible boyfriend who you love very much, yes?”
You roll your eyes but snuggle closer into his side. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
Tomorrow you’ll be back in dark blue, but right now, wrapped in Charles’ embrace and seeing how happy it makes him, you can’t bring yourself to mind the color change too much.
Maybe eventually you’ll get used to alternating depending on whose garage you’re watching from that day. It seems Charles Leclerc has more sway over you than you ever could have imagined, enough to override even a lifetime of team loyalties.
And, as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on earth, you can’t find it in yourself to regret that fact one bit.
***
After the stunt Charles pulled with the interview, you decide turnabout is fair play. An idea starts forming, bringing a devious smile to your lips. Time for a little payback.
You bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment. Finally, an off weekend arrives where Charles is staying at your place. When he goes out to run errands on Saturday morning, you set your plan in motion.
A quick trip to Agent Provocateur provides the supplies you need. After Charles leaves, you slip into the dressing room and emerge wearing a sexy red lace teddy that leaves little to the imagination.
Checking yourself in the mirror, you make a few adjustments. The color is Ferrari red through and through. Charles’ eyes are going to bug out of his head when he sees you in this.
You hear the front door open right on cue. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls.
“In here!” You reply, reclining casually across the bed. You arrange yourself in a tempting pose and wait.
A moment later Charles appears in the doorway, loaded down with his own shopping bags. When he spots you, he freezes, jaw dropping. The bags tumble unheeded to the floor.
You bite your lip coyly. “Welcome home.”
“What … I … you …” Charles stammers, eyes round as saucers as they rove over you. He seems incapable of forming a coherent thought.
You toss your hair back with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh this old thing? Just trying on some new clothes. What do you think?”
Charles makes a strangled noise, still rooted to the spot.
You take pity on him and pat the bed. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much you like it?”
That snaps him out of his stupor. In two strides he’s across the room, mouth capturing yours hungrily. You melt into his kiss, winding your arms around his neck.
When you finally come up for air, his eyes are blazing. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
You trail a fingertip down his chest. “Payback for your little stunt.”
He grins sheepishly. “Okay, I deserved that. But this ...” His heated gaze travels over you again. “You look incredible. Only one thing would make it better ...”
He hurries over to his gear bag, rummaging excitedly. With a flourish, he produces his cap, a large 16 prominently embroidered on the front. Plopping it on your head, he steps back to admire the effect.
“Perfect,” he declares. Taking your hand, he tugs you to the full length mirror.
The vision staring back makes you catch your breath. The red teddy clinging to every curve, paired with Charles’ cap tilted rakishly on top of cascading hair … you have to admit it’s hot. No wonder Charles looks ready to combust.
His arms slide around you from behind, lips finding that sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in red?” He murmurs.
You tilt your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure. “Mmm, I think you better show me some more.”
Charles grins against your skin. “With pleasure.”
Scooping you up, he deposits you back on the bed and proceeds to worship every inch of the tantalizing red lingerie with hands, lips, and devoted words.
By the time he finally peels it off you, the teddy is a tattered scrap. But the awed look in his eyes makes it clear the effect is unforgettable.
Laying wrapped in each other’s arms afterward, you kiss the tip of his nose playfully. “So I take it you liked your surprise?”
“Liked it?” He shakes his head in wonder. “I absolutely loved it. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
You snuggle into his chest, satisfied. “Well in that case, expect to see more Ferrari red in my collection in the future.”
His eyes light up. “You’re going to be the death of me. But what a way to go.”
You’ll have to add some rosso corsa to your closet. Not that you mind.
A small price to pay to see that look in his eyes, like you’re the answer to his wildest fantasies come true.
1K notes · View notes
ellejos · 1 year
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Get Your Morning Started 🤍
I bet you already read dozens of morning routines but maybe I can offer you a few different tips and tricks with my step by step morning routine.
waking up early is essential to make the most out of the day. If you aren‘t an early bird, try different kinds of alarm clocks (light, nature sounds, etc).
After waking up make sure there is some water on your nightstand and drink it. Start hydrating!
Try to avoid your phone as long as possible - no one needs your attention that early in the morning. Be considerate and put your attention on yourself!
Don‘t make your bed. Srsly! Open your window and air your bedding first. Making your bed right after getting up is a safe place for mites. While ventilating the bedroom you can go the bathroom, prepare your drinks/breakfast, journal or meditate. Make your bed 30 min after leaving your bed.
Meditate. Light a candle or incense sticks. Roll out your fitness mat and choose between guided meditations or non guided meditations (I recommend guided for beginners, you can find some on YouTube or Spotify) meditation is key try to stick to it daily!
Journal for organisation and personal growth. 5 to 10 minutes only (!!!) there are many journals out there, I personally use the 5 Minute Journal but any journal would do. You can use a plain notepad and look up journaling ideas on pinterest I really don‘t want you to spend money on stuff you don‘t necessarily need just for the aesthetic.
Move your body honey! Do a YouTube workout or go for a run. Walk your staircase up and down do whatever you feel like doing but try to ignore your lazy bum trying to make you skip this. Get stared on this one you can thank me later.
Breakfast, baby. Nutrition and hydration is non-negotiable! Have your vegetables and fruits, drink your coffee or matcha, don’t forget to drink your lemon water. Don‘t skip breakfast to loose wait angel. Your organs need the calories to function during the day so treat yourself with love and consideration.
Keep calm and moisturise. Quick shower or wash to get ready for the day. Skincare is everything. I’m currently investing (and testing) Korean skincare for myself but a few products are key: cleanser -> toner -> antioxidant serum (vitamin c) -> eye cream -> moisturizer -> sunscreen
Make up and dress up. Find your personal style you feel comfortable with and you‘re good to go. You can look up outfit capsules on pinterest for wardrobe ideas. In terms of make up I personally think less is more. Mascara, lip oil, some rouge on the cheeks and vaseline and you‘re fine. I personally prefer a sleek hairstyle.
Listen to podcast. This step is easily combined with breakfast or getting ready. I‘m currently listening to Confessions by Anastazia but I’ll probably make a playlist with my fave podcast episodes from various podcasts and share it with you.
Bisous!
5K notes · View notes
dicejpg · 8 months
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I've got a sinking feeling - {Five Hargreeves x GN!Reader}
Synopsis: You are very flirty with Five, and he's tricked himself into believing he hates it. He tells you to stop. Then he learns the hard way how much he took you for granted when you meet someone else.
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Note: Five requests would be very appreciated! Thank you to those who sent requests on my last one shot.
(Not Edited)
Warnings: Swearing
Word count: 1.5k
Extra Information: Viisi means Five in Finnish. Five and Y/n were partners in the commission. They look seventeen or eighteen instead of thirteen. This one-shot takes place on the last episode of season one, and the entirety of season two.
----
The Academy, Five's home, has just collapsed--courtesy of Vanya's new powers--and Five ordered his family to meet at Super Star Lanes bowling alley to come up with a new plan of action.
He grabs your wrist, blinking you with him. You're both in front of the bowling alley in a flash of blue.
Five takes a moment to pace around, not entering the building. The crisp, spring air bites at your earlobes as you hug your sides for warmth
"Hey, Viisi, can we go inside?" You look at him with a grimace and a pleading smile. He whips his head in your direction to glare at you, then strolls inside with a roll of his eyes. You follow in his stead.
The interior is heated, thankfully. Five informs the underpaid worker that his "parents" will be arriving shortly to pay for his bowling shoes. He takes a seat adjacent to Lane 6 and you sit next to him.
"So, how was the farewell with Delores? I know you two were close." You lean back in your seat, getting more comfortable while waiting for Five's siblings to arrive.
He does not look at you, his jaw ticks in annoyance.
"Come onnn, I know you're stressed, but this is your sister. I'm sure she's reasonable enough not to end the world." You turn towards him, leaning your elbows on your thighs and admiring his pretty face.
"No, it's not that." He scoffs, looking at you with a sneer.
You notice that his tie is crooked so you reach out to fix it, like you often do. It's sort of your thing.
He smacks your hand away and you raise an eyebrow.
"You okay Viisi?" You rub your hand a little, surprised. Normally, he lets you fix his tie with no problem. Although, he would grumble about it a little.
"God- No. I'm not okay." He puts his hands in his hair, gripping it slightly with an exasperated expression. "And stop calling me that."
"What?" You breathe with a smile of disbelief. "What's going on? Did something happen- Did I do something?" You lean away from him a little to give him more space.
"Stop, just stop it with the touching and the nicknames. I'm sick of it!" He looks at you with cold eyes. This is very unusual of him.
You cock your head to the side, trying to understand. "Five, I thought- I thought that was our thing! Y'know, the friendly banter and-"
"I know you're desperate for some sort of relationship with me, but I'm here to tell you that it's not going to happen. We were only ever co-workers." He says through gritted teeth, avoiding your eyes. "I'm telling you to stop pursuing me." You were never 'pursuing' him.
Usually you would brush this sort of behavior off, ignore it. Tell yourself that it's only because he's stressed. He's always stressed! Thinking back, he was never all that nice to you. Even in your Commission days.
You'd tricked yourself into thinking that maybe he thought you were special, or that you were at least his friend. His confidant.
You look at him with eyes full of hurt, which Five has never seen from you. He almost feels something bubbling up his throat, but the feeling dissipates quickly. "Have I made myself clear?" He says evenly.
You only nod, turning away so he doesn't see the tears prick at your eyes.
Five's siblings come inside and you two don't speak to each other again.
A year and seven months later (for you, at least.)
1963, Dallas Texas:
Five anxiously pulls at his tie after narrowly escaping three armed Swedish men. He had just watched his siblings, along with you, blow up in yet another nuclear explosion. It's left him oddly shaken up about how he treated you back in 2019.
He's pacing down the alley-way between the Commerse and Knox when he notices a flash atop the roof. A large camera of some sort.
A brown haired man closes his window briskly. That's strange.
Five teleports inside, scaling up a flight of stairs with cat-like agility. When he knocks on a door, the one beside him answers, revealing a mouse-y looking man in his early thirties. He looks at him with big, expectant eyes.
"What do you want." His tone is dripping with suspicion.
"Hi, I'm selling encyclopedias for my youth group. I was curious if-" Five gets a door to the face. He huffs, blinking inside after him.
The man, Elliot, jumps, yelping in fear and pulling out a butter-knife from his drawer of kitchen utensils. "H-how did you do that?" He hesitates, astonished.
Five looks at him with amusement. "Don't really have time to explain."
Elliot runs a hand through his unkempt brown hair, gripping the butter-knife in a feeble attempt to protect himself. "You from the Pentagon? Huh?"
"Definitely not."
"CIA? FBI? KGB?"
Five eyes up the kitchen, noticing a coffee pot on the other side of the room. "Is that fresh?" He uses his powers again, blinking himself right in front of the coffee pot.
Elliot screams, whipping his head back and forth between the place Five just was and the place he appeared. "What..." He pants, eyes wide.
"Elliot? You okay?" Five hears a faraway voice from another room. A familiar voice. "Who's with you?" It asks.
You appear from around the corner, presumably from Elliot's bedroom, looking almost two years older.
Five furrows his eyebrows and so do you. He breathes out your name is what you almost register as relief. But, you know better then to think that.
"Oh, Five. You're back." You say casually, nodding and crossing your arms. Five sets the coffee down, unwillingly noticing how you didn't call him by his nickname.
"How long have you been here?" He walks towards you, looking at your slightly different features. You changed your hair, he observes. He says nothing about it.
"A year and a half, I believe." You tap your chin in thought. Elliot glances between you two with interest or surprise.
"You two know each-other?" He puts the butter-knife back onto the counter with a small clatter.
You nod, shrugging. "We were co-workers." You send Elliot a reassuring, genuine smile.
Co-workers. Five doesn't like how the word rolled off your tongue.
He licks his lips, looking away. "You live here?" He asks you, though it was a silly question considering its obvious answer.
You nod with tight lipped smile, approaching Elliot. You fix his hair with your fingers and flip the collar of his flannel back down. "Did he scare you? I told you he could be a bit much."
Elliot exhales a shaky laugh at your words and actions as Five begins to feel a hot, frothy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He changes the subject. "Are my siblings here too?"
Elliot answers for you, looking back towards the teen again. "The other six anomalys- The power surges." He begins to look excited at this new discovery. "They're your siblings?"
Five ticks his jaw, ignoring him. "So they're alive..." He begins to pace around. "I think I stranded them here. Now listen to me..."
"Elliot." You tell him his name.
"Whatever, alright? I got ten days to find them and save the world." He points to you and Elliot. "Now, I need your help to do that."
Elliot is just so happy to be involved, his three year long project finally achieving some major development. He scrambles to find a certain newspaper scrap from his desk drawer. "You know what? I, uh..." He fumbles with it, handing it to Five.
"I always thought that this, uh, mugshot looked like arrival number four."
"Diego." Five reads softly, then he twists around to face you. "You're coming with me." He states.
You hiss awkwardly through your teeth, avoiding his eyes. "Ohh, about that... Actually, Elliot and I were about to play scrabble."
Five narrows his eyes at you, barking your name. "The world is ending and you're just gonna play scrabble with this homebody?"
Elliot looks at his dusty wooden floors with a look of dejection.
"Uh, yeah. That's exactly what I'm gonna do." You lean against the door-frame with a bored expression. "I thought you wanted me to stop following you around like a lost puppy."
Five feels strange. "You know what? I don't need this." He blinks away to search for Diego.
When Five returns from the strip club, after a failed attempt of recruiting both Luther and Diego, he decides to test something. His fingers reach for his tie, pulling at it and skewing it. Perfectly crooked.
You couldn't resist fixing his tie, he knew this.
So why didn't you? He finds himself uncharacteristically frustrated about unresponsiveness.
As he demands that Elliot develop his Frankel Footage, his eyes trail to you occasionally, silently tempting you to straighten his tie.
Your eyes flicked to it once. However, you made no move to adjust it.
Five heaves a dramatic sigh, angrily fixes it, and leaves to look for Vanya.
He messed up before, he realizes. He feels like shit.
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kaziwi · 8 months
Note
one piece boys reaction to a f!reader who cries whenever she is angry (include whoever you want, but put Law, Zoro and Sanji please)
agagagaga i love requests like these <3 sorry it’s a bit long but i hope you enjoy!!
Character(s): Law, Zoro, Sanji
WC: 1,460
Reader Who Cries When Angry
Law
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It was just a simple misunderstanding...why did you get so frustrated???
No. It wasn't your fault...it was HIS
Your boyfriend, Law, had asked that you accompany him on exploring the newest island, YOU, like only and specifically you
Of COURSE you thought this was a date kinda thing because it had been like 100000 years since Law had taken you out and omgomgomg you were so excited
You had put on a little bit extra makeup and did your hair nicer as you met Law on the docks
"You look nice," he commented. You screamed and did a little dance in your head but put on a calm smile for him
It seemed Law had made up his mind on where you two were going because instead of heading to town, you were both trudging up a hill in the middle of the woods
Maybe he was bringing you to a flower field....OR maybe he was going to give you a big old kiss under a cherry blossom tree
Ok maybe you were a bit ahead of yourself...but you couldn't help but wonder???
Then Law abruptly stopped in front of you and crouched down over a bush. You decided to repeat his actions to find out what he was staring at. There were small berries in the bush, all with different colors and sizes.
He opened his bag and pulled out a notebook and pen and handed it to you.
"Write as I talk," he commanded, and who were you to disobey your captain.
Law went on for what seemed like forever about these berries and described them all in detail. You wrote down as much as you could till your hand started to cramp, but thank god by then he was basically over.
He mumbled a small thank you as he took the notebook back, quickly revised the notes you had taken, and stood back up.
"Alright lets head back"
What...did he mean...head back...
WHERE WERE THE FLOWERS AND THE KISSES?????
"Law...." you asked calmly, "what are we doing out here?"
Law looked at you a little funny and said, "Well I read that these berries are only found on this island. I read about their different properties and wanted to see them for myself."
"And why did you choose me of all people to come out here with you..?"
"Well you have the neatest handwriting."
That had done it.
You wanted to scream and yell and make angry hand gestures at him....but all you could do was cry
It was like a dam broke and you just couldn't stop
Law looked more confused than he had ever looked in his life...then rushed over to you like the good boyfriend he SHOULD HAVE BEEN
Law continued to ask what was wrong...but all you could do was cry
When you FINALLY calmed down...you explained to him that you thought this was a date...and were ANGRY at him for not making it one
Lets just say this story ends with Law buying you icecream and giving you a million kisses mwah mwah
Zoro
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In his defense he had no clue you were gonna start crying
He just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine
You always LOVED to prank him along with Luffy and Usopp
None of those pranks were CRAZY...just little silly tricks like banana peals on the floor to slip on or throwing water balloons at him...but either way they annoyed him
SOMEHOW he thought of the genius idea to prank you back...
Though Zoro's definition of a prank IS NOT what you'd think it was.....
The crew had just arrived on a new island and everyone went their separate ways to explore
Zoro had insisted that you and him take a walk in the woods, and even though you were against it since he ALWAYS gets lost…you reluctantly followed along…
Zoro had the perfect plan in his head….he was going to walk ahead…hide behind some some trees..and then SCARE YOU (he’s not the most creative with these things)
He had suddenly ran ahead..saying that he spotted something and leaving you alone
He SWORE he only ran only a minute or two ahead, just enough where he could wait and hide…
But that was an hour ago…and Zoro was waiting FOREVER..till he heard you..
SOMEHOW in running 2 minutes ahead he got himself lost
So there you were frantically calling his name while the sun quickly set
You really REALLY didn’t wanna be out here in the dark looking for him… and the creepy forest sounds did not help
A small rustle caught you attention..so you walked closer to the sound…till ZORO in all his glory jumped out of the tree and yelled boo
You were so startled that you fell back and hit the forest floor..while Zoro started CACKLING
You were tired…scared…hungry…and PISSED
As much as you wanted to scream your head off at him and punch him 10000 times…all you could do was start to cry
He stopped laughing as soon as he heard your sobs and felt frozen when he saw you crying
He never cried when you pulled tricks on him..SO WHY WERE YOU??????
“WHY ARE YOU CRYING,” he yelled, meaning it to come off more comforting
“CAUSE YOU SCARED ME,” you yelled back while still crying
After some back and fourth yelling..Zoro admitted he was wrong..but SWORE he didn’t get lost..you did
And you were so gonna prank him back for this one
Sanji
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Now Sanji RARELY ever made you mad
You always laughed when you heard people complaining about their partners because your boyfriend was just perfect
Though one thing did kinda piss you off….his flirting
Now don’t get it confused you LOVED when he flirted with you…but it was the flirting with every woman he saw that bugged you
Usually you brushed it off and reminded yourself that he loved you more…but this time was different
You were helping him pick supplies at an island you stopped at, a usual job between the two of you
Though your palette wasn't as refined as Sanji's, you still were good at picking what food was best for the crew
Sanji had spotted a stand in the market with fruits native to the island, which were apparently very rare
He looked like a kid in a candy store while talking to you about the fruits, and all was well UNTIL the shop vendor came over
Now this girl was GEORGOUS like looked like Boa Hancock your jaw dropped when you saw her....and so did Sanji's...
Immediately he showered her with compliments and praises, just the usual....but instead of turning him down like the usual girls do...she flirted back...
Whatever...who cares...I mean it was bound to happen soon...but surely Sanji wouldn't take it too far...
You honestly didn't care too much...only a little jealous...TILL SHE INVITED HIM TO HER HOUSE
The vendor basically had said that she would show Sanji some of her new recipes that she made with the fruit and would love to talk about technique....IN HER HOUSE
Why couldn't they just do that here??? and even better why don't they just end the conversation now!!
Deep down you BELIEVED in your boyfriend and knew he wouldn't accept the invitation....until he did
A quick kiss on your forehead and a quick goodbye he left with the vendor and started to walk to her house...
What. Just. Happened.
So first he leaves you to hangout with this RANDOM lady...AND THEN LEAVES YOU TO FINISH THE SHOPPPING
It was later in the evening when he came back to the Sunny...a new recipe book in tow
He was excited to show it off to you, and was happy to hear that you finished the shopping for him!!
Sanji found you in the kitchen, putting away the food in the pantry
"Y/N!! Look at this amazing new recipe book I got from that vendor, you'd love this one-"
He looked up from his rant to notice that you were crying...
Sanji dropped the book and ran to you, begging you to tell him what was wrong
You wanted to stay silent and angry at him, but the tears kept pouring out and you just wanted him to hold you
You told him how upset his flirting made you and how him leaving with the other woman made you furious
He immediately apologized and honestly didn't stop for the rest of the night
He swore to you that he would tune down the flirting and that he would bring all his attention to you
And he kept that promise well, minimalizing the complements towards other women, even dialing it down around Nami and Robin
He truly was sorry and vowed to himself to never make you cry again
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
Note
Hi hi! Can I request an angsty/fluff piece with Jason? Maybe he hasn't told her that he's Red Hood yet, and they want to tell him that she loves him for the first time, but with his constant disappearances at night they're thinking that he's starting to get tired of them?
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This went a little too long when I decided to stop, so I might need to split this into two parts if needs be 🦦
‘Hey honey,’ you greeted Jason with a peck to the cheek, pulling away smiling brightly. ‘Are you all ready for movie night tonight? I’ve already got a couple films set up and ready to go and I promise none of them will make you cry like last time.’
Jason grimaced. Shit, he knew that something was happening tonight but couldn’t remember what and -like a dumbass- had agreed to going out on a patrol with Dick and Damian later on. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry chipmunk I can’t do movie night tonight. Can we do it next week?’ Jason hated how he was the one who made the smile upon your face disappear as quickly as it came, he hated how he was the reason why the excitement left your eyes, only to be replaced by a look of poorly concealed disappointment.
Jason hated how it seemed as of late that his commitment to being a vigilante had been the leading cause of your unhappiness. While he was out clearing Gotham almost every night, you were left in your shared apartment, left to sleep alone in a bed that was designed for two people and ponder how things could’ve gotten to this stage; wondering whether this was a relationship worth being in after all.
You sighed, trying to be understanding but how could you when this was the third time Jason had bailed on you this week. It didn’t seem fair to keep trying at this point when it seems as though you’re the only one who is actively trying to make time for each other. You had planned to tell Jason you loved him tonight but all that was thrown into the bin, all because he apparently forgot all about it. ‘It’s fine Jason, I’m sure whatever you have going on is inherently more important.’ You said, feeling more hurt than anything as you clenched your jaw to stop yourself from saying something you’ll inevitably regret.
‘I’ll make it up to you-‘
‘Would you like to know how many times you claimed that you’ll make it up to me but never have?’ You asked Jason rhetorically and watched his face further become into one of guilt. ‘Three. Times.’ You told him, holding up three fingers. ‘Once is excusable, but three times Jason. I thought you were over making false promises, much like how I’d trick myself into thinking that you would actually like to spend time with me in our own apartment, but it seems like I was wrong as per usual.’ You scoffed.
Jason tried to reach out for your hand to console you, but you immediately took it away before he could and put a good deal of distance between the two of you to show that you were in need of comfort but not from him. ‘Y/n, I’m sorry-‘
‘Don’t bother. Just make sure to have your keys on you before you leave because I wont stay up for you anymore.’ Was all you said before leaving the room to go into your room, where you’d stay until he left for the night doing god knows what. His disappearing act didn’t bother you at first but when it become more frequent and grew more obstructive when you wanted to spend the night with him, a pit in your stomach grew and it had been growing ever since followed by thoughts that doubted Jason’s loyalty to you.
Were you boring him but he didn’t have the heart to tell you? Is that why he’s been disappearing almost every night or so? Just so he could meet up with someone else behind your back and shit talk you? If that was the case then he could stay out for all you cared, you’ve given him your heart but it didn’t seem as though he couldn’t bring himself to even fake in giving a shit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile Jason felt like the biggest dickhead ever. He could tell that you were reaching the end of your rope with him and he wasn’t so sure that he could go back to living by himself if you were to ever leave him, he could try but it wouldn’t be the same when you were the reason his apartment felt like an apartment at all. And yet he has no one else to blame for this but himself.
He was the reason you could’ve have a simple date night at home.
He was the reason for your frequent disappointment.
He was the reason you no longer felt loved by him but that just wasn’t true. Jason loved you so much it physically hurt and scared the poor man of what he was willing to do for you. Jason’s love for you burned him in the most delicious way imaginable, he was left wanting for more, hooked on your love as though it was an easily addictive drug sweeping the streets of Gotham. However even Jason couldn’t ignore the wedge between him and you, a wedge that only seemed to get worse the more Jason bailed on you for his vigilante business.
As he was sulking in the fact that this might be the end of your relationship, Jason got a text from Dick asking where he was and all Jason could think of whilst grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment, was how he was going to make up for every night that you felt as though you were abandoned by him; and if anyone who knew Jason best knew he was anything but a quitter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Movie night was depressing as shit when you were having it all by yourself as a way to cope with the fact that you might not be enough to keep Jason interested.
You were bundled up in bed, hugging your childhood plushie tightly against your chest as you watched a movie adaptation to one of Jason’s most favoured book out of Jane Austen‘s body of work. Hell most of the movies you’ve picked out were based on Jason’s favourite author but you weren’t enjoying it as you would if he was beside you, muttering the lines alongside the characters under his breath as he held you against his chest as though you were something precious; even going so far at to using the excuse that when a kissing scene happens you should be kissing too for a more immersive experience.
He was such a dork but he was your dork and now it feels as though he didn’t want to be called yours anymore.
You didn’t know what it was that you did for him to get bored of you but it hurt like a motherfucker and the more you thought about it the more your eyes began to well up with unshed tears. ‘What am I doing wrong snuffles?’ You brought your plushie to face you with its beady button eyes. ‘Am I really that much of a bore that he can’t bring himself to just end it? What does he get out of dragging me along? Is this some sick joke to him?’ You asked and you asked but got no response, then again that’s what you get when trying to seek answers from a weighted plushie.
‘Who am I kidding.’ You uttered defeatedly as you put down your plushie, switched off the tv after seeing that there was no point in having it on in the first place, and stared up at the ceiling as you tried to will sleep to hurry up and claim you. ‘Did you know that I was planning on telling him that I loved him?’ You asked aloud for no one in particular, smiling weakly as you wiped your eyes. ‘How stupid was it of me to think that we’d ever last. He’s obviously found someone else who doesn’t bore him as easily as I do…so why should I stay?’ You felt yourself wanting to cry again but you were too tired to give your body what it wants and tried to ignore the lump in your throat by forcing your eyes shut.
*knock, knock, knock*
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bedoballoons · 3 months
Note
GENSHIN BOYS WITH A FEM!THIN/UNDERWEIGHT READER???? ive always been rlly thin, so it’s not eating disorder related just a scrawny fem!reader
OOOOOO OKIE!! I've always been thicker myself so I hope I wrote this well! Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy the characters I picked!!
─⊰💕𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤💕⊰─
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{༻~Scrawny and cute~༺}
CW: Fem! Reader described as being very thin!, fluffy and sweet!
A/n: First time writing Gaming!! EEE so excited!! Hope I did him justice!!
(Includes: Lyney, Gaming, and Venti!)
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𑁍༄Lyney:
You tried to stay perfectly still as Lynette measured you...how had you gotten in this position? You weren't really sure, all you knew was that Lyney was special ordering you a outfit for his next show and he'd asked his sister to measure you, only she seemed a little perplexed with the results. "You're eating right? You make sure to have three meals a day? Maybe even some snacks?"
You raised a eyebrow at her, "Yes of course. Why do you ask?"
She paused for a second, her features not giving any hint to what she was feeling, "Your measurements are just very small, for a second I was worried you might need to eat more."
"Nope, I was actually worried about that at first as well, but I always make food and she eats it. She's just naturally thin, which is exactly why I'm thinking you'll be perfect for the trick I have in mind...if that's alright of course?"
You and Lynette turned your attention to Lyney as he walked up to you, his eyes sparkling with inspiration as you contemplated his request. "Hmm do I get a kiss after the show?"
"As if you wouldn't mon amour~"
𑁍༄Gaming:
"Woah here let me get that for ya!"
"Watch your step, don't want you to fall!"
"Get to safety I'll take care of them!"
You'd heard them a few to many times lately, you knew Gaming was only looking out for you, he was a caring guy and he truly just wanted to make sure you were okay all the time...even if he was being a little to...over protective. Yes you were a bit scrawnier than he was...his claymore probably weighed more then you did, but that didn't mean he had to do everything for you..., "Hey Gaming? You know you don't have to do all that stuff for me right? I can do it just fine I swea-"
"Oh I have no doubts you could, I just figured when I'm with you, you shouldn't have to. Hmm how do I put this...you're one of the most precious things to me, so I want to take care of you." He scratched the back of his neck, a blush creeping onto his cheeks, "Maybe I was over doing it though...sorry. Promise i'll remember that for next time, for now lets enjoy some dim sum!"
𑁍༄Venti:
Venti wrapped his arms around your waist tightly and rested his chin on your shoulder, watching as ran your fingers over the details engraved in his lyre. He'd been teaching you how to play little by little everyday and now you could almost strum a whole song...but it still just didn't sound as good as when he played it, "Venti do you think one day my music will induce feelings like yours does? I want to play you a melody that leaves you feeling calm and happy, just like you do to me."
He smiled softly and kissed your cheek, his embrace growing slightly tighter around your slim waist, "I think one day you will make music that leaves everyone feeling calm and free, you have talent and a beauty even crystal flies would be jealous of."
You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and butterflies fill your stomach...one day. One day you'd play him a tune that explained every feeling just right and then when he held you tightly after, chuckling happily and making a joke about how he hopes he doesn't break you with his hugs...you'd tell him just how much you loved him and it would be the most perfect of days.
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ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧
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justporo · 6 months
Text
A Night of Staying In
After all the doom and gloom in other writing I really needed some cutesy fluff to feel myself again - and also to give Astarion and Tav a break.
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Summary: So have Tav and Astarion just enjoying a cozy night in - also Astarion gets a carrot hurled at his face.
Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav Warnings: Mention of sex, a carrot gets thrown and then murdered Wordcount: 2,2k
Delicious smells of slowly cooking meats and vegetables, spices and a forgotten mint tea were wafting through the kitchen of your cozy little townhouse.
You were bustling around the well-equipped kitchen. The apron you were wearing was full of stains and its pockets full of cooking utensils – even a half-full spoon absent-mindedly tugged away in one of them. It was slowly leaking through the linen with something on it that looked like blood – but was simply a tomatoey sauce. Your hair was messily put up in a bun, but several strands of hair had fallen out of it and you looked only so far from a mental breakdown.
At the kitchen table Astarion was sitting with a lantern, bowing over an embroidery project. He had the very bright lantern you’d gifted him specifically for this purpose directly next to him, but he was still squinting at his work and holding it so close his nose was almost touching the fabric. He looked a lot less demented than you but still very absent-minded.
Fabrics and threads were strewn all about the wooden table. Different needles were glinting everywhere on it too. One could only hope that those would be remembered at some point – preferably before someone stuck them in their fingers.
Next to him were also laying some loose papers, a feather and an ink pot with lots of writing that was then crossed out again and also some small little doodles on the corners – one for whatever reason happened to be a goose with a knife in its beak.
You had several pots on the iron stove and something about to go in the oven as well. Critically you were moving around between all of these things, clattering with copper pot lids, jars of ingredients and spoons to try the food (always in the same pattern: grabbing a new spoon, trying something, putting the spoon in the dish bowl full of dirty water – then having to grab a new spoon). You had some potatoes boiling and in another pot you had been cooking a mixture of vegetables and beef for quite some time. You wanted to recreate a recipe of cottage pie that you had once tried many years ago in a tavern and had kept reappearing in your dreams. And now you finally had the kitchen and the tools to try and cook it yourself!
But it seemed impossible to get it right, this already being your fourth attempt this week. The vampire had already been moaning that you had basically force-fed him the meal because you had no way of eating that much pie on your own. It was not, that the finished pies hadn’t tasted well, but they just weren’t like you remembered. But you started to think that it might be your memory that was tricking you and not your cooking skills.
You went to try the pie filling again after adding some more spices and dash more red wine (directly from your goblet because you didn’t seem to remember where you put the bottle).
As soon as the spoonful hit your tongue you knew you had done it – finally.
You shrieked and immediately heard another shriek behind you in reply. You turned around to Astarion with glee and saw how the vampire was staring at you angrily and shaking his hand. It didn’t take a genius to figure out your sudden excitement had caused him to stab himself with his needle.
“Darling, can you maybe not scream like a dying goblin, I was concentrating!”, he hissed at you. Your joy evaporated at his flare of anger – so you turned around again, grabbed a left over half of carrot and threw it at Astarion – and maybe a bit more forceful than would have been necessary.
But he was still a rogue and dodged the vegetable easily. It flew against one of the cabinets and then to the ground. There it stayed until Scratch came into the kitchen, drawn there by the sudden noises. The dog sniffed at the piece of vegetable, then grabbed it and went off again.
“Oh really, are we at the ‘I throw stuff at my lover’ point of our relationship now, love?”, Astarion replied to your responsive outburst of anger with a raised eyebrow. “Am I going to have to sleep on the sofa next?”, he continued sassily.
Your hand itched to grab more produce – there were some potatoes still laying around and they made for excellent improvised throwing weapons. But you saw the smirk that played around the vampire’s lips. So you settled for a verbal rebuttal.
“Don’t be such a prick and you can keep sleeping inside”, you said and flipped him off. Then you turned around again to your cooking and grabbed – yet another – spoon and scooped up some of the filling. The vampire mumbled something under his breath about he wouldn’t have to be a prick if you didn’t make him prick himself.
“Oh, that would be so gracious of you, my dear lady, if I was still allowed in your shining presence”, Astarion then said loudly as you were busy with the pots. The tone still very sassy but you heard the playfulness in it now and knew he was now only teasing.
You went over to him, with one hand under the spoon full of hot goodness that immediately started dripping and burning your hand. You winced but kept going.
“Here, try this – I think I got it now”, you said as you stood in front of Astarion who had put down his needlework for the time being. He threw you a pained look: “Love, if you keep feeding me this I think I might actually start to get a pot belly.”
You snorted at him and eyed what you could see of his upper body. “Pretty sure, you will never have to worry about this kind of thing. Now. Try. It”, you answered and insistingly came closer with the spoon.
Astarion sighed, gave you another suffering look and then let himself be fed. His doubtful expression quickly changed to what you interpreted as pleasantly surprised.
“Alright, I take everything back, that was well worth the scream of enlightenment, my sweet. That tastes wonderful”, the vampire said and grinned at you.
“See, wasn’t so hard, was it”, you said and gave him a quick peck on the lips as you could see his face changing to annoyance once more at your petty remark.
You threw the spoon in the dish bowl and rubbed your hands on your apron and started to get everything ready for the final step of the recipe. Meanwhile you said to Astarion: “So, darling, could you write down the following: one and a half cups of red wine and three instead of two sprigs of thyme and just loads of black pepper.”
“Of course, my darling chef”, Astarion replied cheerfully and grabbed the feather and papers laying next to him to write it down. “Any other changes?”
“No, this will be it”, you responded and happily clapped your hands before you put your filling in a cast iron pan, mashed and seasoned the potatoes and then put them down as the topping of your pie. The final touch was some hearty cheese sprinkled on top. Then you put it all in the oven.
In the meantime, you heard the feather scratching over the paper.
“What are you doing, Astarion?”, you asked as you took off the oven mitts from pushing the pan in to cook.
“Just putting the recipe in clean writing for you, my heart”, the vampire replied as he kept looking through older versions and notes on the papers. Brows furrowed as he was concentrating on it.
“That’s sweet, love, thank you”, you said to him but he didn’t reply and probably hadn’t even noticed. Of course – if you said something actually nice you fell on deaf ears.
So you decided to thank him with another gesture. You grabbed another goblet to pour your vampire a cup of wine but as you looked around to find the opened bottle you saw that it had been next to Astarion with an already filled cup all along.
You gave up and sat down across the table with your own cup of wine as Astarion finished up writing. You put one leg up on the bench and hugged it to your chest, head on top of the knee and watched the pale elf.
“Here you go, my sweet”, the vampire exclaimed cheerfully after a few more moments and handed you the finished recipe that was now written cleanly in his neat and beautiful handwriting. ‘Tav’s specialty cottage pie’ stood atop the page and next to it was a little doodle of some steaming hot pie.
You smiled broadly at Astarion: “Thank you, darling.” Then you shortly leaned on the table, almost climbing over it to give him a kiss while carefully trying to avoid the needles.
“Do you sometimes wonder how we ended up like this?”, you softly asked him after you had read through the finished recipe.
“Like what?”
“Well, like this – all domestic. I’m cooking, you’re embroidering, we’re bickering like an old married couple, drinking wine and just enjoying a cozy night in instead of wreaking havoc somewhere out there”, you said and waved vaguely in the direction of the city beyond the walls of your home. Then you took another sip of wine.
“Let’s be honest with ourselves, we’ve been bickering like that from the moment we met”, Astarion answered and looked at you sternly. You shrugged in agreement.
“As for the rest – well, are you enjoying the way we spend our nights like this sometimes? Because if you’re bored-“
“No no, I’m enjoying this an awful lot. It’s just – this is somehow the most unlike turn of events don’t you think? Like, I sometimes can’t believe we actually ended up in the version where we’ll live happily ever after”, you said and cradled your face in your hand not currently holding a cup of wine.
At your words a warm and adoring smile crept onto Astarion’s face.
“Are you though?”, you asked then.
“Hm?”
“Are you enjoying these kinds of nights?”, you asked Astarion again and lifted your head up to look straight at him.
The vampire looked at you, smile still playing around his lips: “Well, my love, after two hundred years full of godsdamned shit I am enjoying this sort of mundanity quite a lot. And I enjoy it even more because I get to spend it with you. I might even enjoy doing the dishes with you later on – unless you don’t splash me like last time.”
You smiled at him too now, broadly – feeling incredibly lucky that you had indeed taken all the right turns that had led you here, to this: sitting at this kitchen table with the love of your life, talking about doing the dishes.
“But if we ever get bored, my sweet, I have quite a lot of ideas on how to spice things up”, Astarion continued afterwards. The smile morphed into a lewd smirk and his red eyes sparkled mischievously: “For example, I could dramatically throw everything on this table to the ground, rip all your clothes off and have my way with you on this table until you forget your own name.”
His voice had suddenly become deep and smooth like dark molten chocolate. You bit your bottom lip as the mental image of his words set in and you just stared into his eyes point blank. Astarion still looked at you, not breaking eye contact, and his teasing smirk only growing.
“Nah”, you made after some more moments, “not tonight. My cottage pie would burn.” Your tone was matter-of-fact and you drank some more of your wine while still looking into the vampire’s eyes.
Then you both broke down laughing. So much so that you had to wipe tears from your eyes by the end and Astarion had his face buried in one of his hands while silent fits of laughter still shook through him.
“Alright”, he said and bit his lip, one of his fangs showing adorably as if he was a cat, “I’ll write it down for another date night then.” You broke out laughing again.
Until you could actually smell your food burning. With an “oh shit” you jumped up and pulled the pan out of the oven – you had saved it just in time.
You got out some plates and forks, and put some generous servings onto them. As you turned around your gaze fell onto the table full of Astarion’s embroidery supplies. Astarion saw your look, then waved it off, dismissing it.
He grabbed one of the filled plates from you and grabbed your then free hand to lead you to the living room. Scratch was there laying on his designated blanket, chewing on his favourite ball. Some telltale orange spots telling the tale of the fallen carrot.
You settled down on your sofa with your food – you swinging your legs over Astarion’s and getting cozy.
And this is where you stayed: eating until you felt like your belly might burst, joking until you were crying again, talking until you got so tired you almost drifted off into dreaming right then and there. And when you had went to bed: holding each other until you woke up in the other’s arms again.
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enluv · 4 months
Text
sungchan as your boyfriend…
pairing: non-idol!sungchan x gn!reader
word count: 573!
genre(s): pure fluff like hold onto your hats because this might make you fall in love with him kinda fluff + (no warnings!)
coco’s <3 note: thank you @okkotsu-simp for requesting this 🤍
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– sungchan who first meets you at your universities library because you’re sitting in his usual spot and he’s seriously irritated about it but he thinks you’re too beautiful to tell you off
– that same sungchan decides to just take the seat in front of you and smiles when you look up at him surprised, he’ll explain that you’re in his spot and shake his head no quickly after when you try to get up and offer it back to him, instead asking you what you’re working on
– the rest is history after that, you have a mutual crush on one another and he asks you out immediately after watching the library worker try and flirt with you, something about how you’re his significant other and he thought it was obvious to evereyone???
– sungchan is the type of boyfriend to introduce you to the things he usually does alone, this isn’t to say he doesn’t continue to do them alone but if he thinks you’ll enjoy going on a walk in his favorite park then he’ll be sure to plan for you to try it out with him
– he won’t force you to try new things (foods, activities, hobbies, etc.) but he would most definitely encourage it
– he knows how hard university can get so he will always make sure you’re taking care of yourself
– you’ve been up for hours working on a final paper? it’s time to sleep love, and he means it! he’s a strong guy do you really think he won’t trick you with cuddles on his bed then trap you in his arms till you eventually fall asleep?
– sungchan who can’t cook to save his life but will learn to make you soup for when you catch a cold
– sungchan who buys your pet clothes he thinks will look cute on them and swoons whenever you send him pictures of them wearing the outfits he bought
– sungchan who is the biggest cuddle bug you’ll ever meet, like seriously he loves his cuddles so much and demands them every night
– sungchan who so badly wants to meet your parents because he wants them to know who is dating their baby but is also so nervous to meet them that he freaks out all day till you drag him to dinner shaking
– sungchan who goes out of his way to form an authentic friendship with your friends because he knows how much they mean to you and wants to make sure they know how much you mean to him
– sungchan who drives with one hand, and places the other over you to make sure you’re safe when he’s backing out of places (i need him)
– sungchan who gets pouty when you won’t kiss him because you’re sick and don’t want him to catch your cold (he swears up and down he doesn’t care but pouts even more when he catches it)
– sungchan who always lets you taste his food when you guys go out to eat together
– sungchan who helps you study for exams you have coming up
– sungchan who invites you back to his place for holidays away from school when you can’t go back home
– sungchan who buys you flowers all the time because he knows they make you smile
– sungchan who notices the little habits you have, like tapping your fingers nervously or squeezing his hand a bit tighter when you’re excited about something
– sungchan who when he has a bad day at work or school calls you because hearing your voice immediately puts his mind at ease and washes away all his worries…
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coco’s <3 note: right so like I NEED HIM. okay moving on! I could totally go on forever with these but I decided that I should maybe just post them because if I didn’t stop myself I definitely would have never posted this and just kept adding to it for months on end (this is totally not the reason I haven’t posted my jay bf hcs ahahahaha why would you even think that silly goose!) anyways I hope you enjoy these and fantasize  about sungchan the same way I did when writing them 🤣🫵🏽 as always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3
riize taglist — @palajae @txtlyn @rllymark @soheekisser @luvbinnies @chaerybae @lecheugo @idkwatodoanymore @givemeakith @haechansbbg @mxlly143 @tinyelfperson @vampcharxter (bold can’t be tagged 😞)
Want to be added? Check out the form post here!
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jaehvuno · 7 months
Text
Trick or Treat- J.J
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PAIRING. jaehyun x afab reader
GENRE. smut
WARNINGS. unprotected sex, choking, squirting, creampie, jaehyun watches reader get off
WC. 1.4k
A/N: happy october 1st!!!🎃🖤 a nice repost from 127kive (rip..) as i work on this haechan fic that’s been in the drafts collecting dust... hope you enjoy! feedback is v much needed.. PLEASEEE
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Jaehyun didn’t mean for this to happen.
He didn’t mean to watch his sexy new neighbor from across the street get off. But.. Could you blame him? You sat directly in front of your window blinds wide open chest on display as your fingers toyed with your clit. The first time he came across you he only looked for a second before quickly closing his curtains and looking away. He figured you didn’t mean to have your blinds open, probably just forgetting to close them.
Jaehyun couldn’t help but take a peek through his brown curtains yet again ears turning bright red as he watched you push two fingers in your cunt. He felt his pants become unbearably tight, quickly unzipping them pushing his pants down just enough to free his cock.
Biting at his lip as he watched you finger your cunt lazily stroking his cock letting out a groggy groan of your name tossing his head back
“fuck y/n”
Jaehyun quickly cleans himself up mentally slapping himself in the face for getting off to his neighbor he’s met once. He tried splashing his face with some cool water telling himself he would never do something like that again. Of course… that was a lie.
Jaehyun would constantly check to see if you were back on your couch in the same position touching yourself again. and to his surprise you were. At this point Jaehyun swore you were starting to do it on purpose. And he was right.
You didn’t notice Jaehyun until the third time you got off. Always in crunch time you figured why not just do a quick one again on the couch. When you went to close your blinds you could see Jaehyun peeking through his curtains making you quirk an eyebrow. Huh. You didn’t think Jaehyun would do something so pervy but you didn’t mind it. In fact you liked it. Jaehyun has always been your guy next door crush so the fact he watched you get off made you even more horny for him. Though you enjoyed having him watch you, you were tired of getting your own self off. You shot him a quick text letting him know you were throwing a halloween party and would love for him to come.
Replying within seconds sending you a small ‘i’ll be there;)’ in response. Your face felt warm from the text not being able to contain your happiness.
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“Trick or Treat!” you smiled at the kids on your doorstep holding their bags open as you dropped candy in each of their buckets wishing them a happy halloween. Looking at your watch knowing that your guests will start arriving in seconds you decided to put more drinks out. Hearing the doorbell rang again shouting a quick ‘coming!’ as you rushed to grab it smiling when you saw Jaehyun.
He was dressed as Jack from Titanic, a grin on his face as he teasingly asked “trick or treat?”
“come in” leading the way jaehyun closing the door behind him following you into the living room. “You're here early, the party doesn’t start till 9” you handed jaehyun a cup sitting across from him. “Well we do live across the street from each other” he chuckled taking a sip of his water
“That's true.. or maybe you came early in hopes of watching me get off again” Jaehyun choked on his drink putting the red solo cup on the coffee table. “I—I’m sorry what?” he asked with a nervous smile on his face. “you think I didn’t know?” getting up from your chair walking over to Jaehyun.
He rubbed his sweaty palms on his khaki pants as you approached him. “I saw you every time you peeked through your curtains watching me play with myself” Jaehyun's ears begin to turn bright red, feeling humiliated. Not knowing if he should fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness or just straight up leave.
“Why did you sit there and watch me when you could of came over and fucked me?” Jaehyun froze.
You.. liked him watching you? He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His eyes followed your hands as you undid his shirt legs coming up to straddle his waist. Grabbing his face roughly making him look at you “Can I touch you?” Jaehyun nodded the best he could as you gripped his chin “please” he mumbled. Smiling at how desperate he looked, releasing his chin as you kissed down his neck and chest. Licking a long strip up his nipple making him jump slightly at the feeling as you blew cool air on it watching it harden.
Sucking on the right nipple your hand playing with the left one Jaehyun’s hand squeezing at your thighs as much as he can. Feeling your red and black striped tights sticking to your core as Jaehyun moaned. “Come here” Jaehyun said breathlessly, grabbing you by your neck and gasping as he kissed you. You let out a moan wrapping your hand around Jaehyun’s as he held onto your throat grinding down on his bulge.
Jaehyun pulled back from the kiss making you gasp again “need you to fuck me before the guest get here” quickly locking your legs around his waist as he laid you down on the couch not even bothering to pull your tights off ripping them open a cocky grin appearing on his face.
“No panties? You had this all planned out huh?” questioning you as he undid his pants watching his every move, mouth watering at the sight of his cock. “Wanted me just as bad as I wanted you” he mumbled in your neck as he lined himself up with your cunt
“wanted you so bad jaehyun.. so ba—“ slightly arching your back off the couch as he pushed himself into your tight hole a loud gasp leaving your mouth from the stretch. It hurt so good. Jaehyun gave you no time to get used to his size fucking you like there was no damn tomorrow. Lazily kissing at your neck as he fucked you. Moans and whimpers spill from your mouth pulling Jaehyun by his hair to kiss his lips. Groaning in the kiss reaching a hand down to toy with your clit.
“I-It feels so g-good jae” whimpering as Jaehyun held your face “yeah? you feel good baby?” nodding repeatedly letting a tear slip down your cheek. “so.. fucking good” you say in between breaths Jaehyun smiles at you raising your leg on his shoulder to thrust deeper making you squeal in surprise.
“oh my fucking god! so—“ clawing at his shoulder barely able to form a sentence “s-so deep! Jaehyun, it's so— deep!” you whined out feeling your orgasm approaching quicker and quicker.
“I know baby I know” Jaehyun cooed while kissing your ear. You felt your legs begin to shake uncontrollably as you hit your orgasm scratching at Jaehyun’s back even harder. “Fuck! Fuck! Please” squeezing your eyes shut as Jaehyun thrusted in you overstimulating you like it was nothing while he chased his orgasm.
“Jaehyun please! i-i-“ your vision was beginning to blur letting jaehyun use you as much as he wanted his cock stretching you out so good and filling you up so well. “D-Don’t stop” You grabbed his hand bringing it up for him to wrap around your neck “Look at me” Jaehyun groaned out. Your eyes barely opening as you felt your second orgasm coming “w-want it in me jae” holding onto his hand as his thrust got sloppy and needier
“want you to cum in me please Jaehyun please” you cried out cumming for the second time legs shaking loud whines and whimper leaving your dry lips
“fuck y/n shit” Jaehyun groaned thrusting one last time filling you up to the brim with his cum. Your legs shook as he filled you up, his hand unwrapping from your throat pulling out and laying on the other side of the couch. At this point you didn’t have it in you to have a party anymore. Jaehyun fucked you like he was never gonna fuck you again leaving you limpless and tired. Jaehyun sat up pushing his damp hair back buttoning up his shirt and tucking himself back into his pants.
“was that your first time doing that?” you raised an eyebrow at him confused. “you squirted” quickly sitting up seeing the huge wet spot on your couch cursing to yourself. How the fuck were you gonna cover that up before people arrived?
“yes it was.. i don’t know why you’re surprised i did you were fucking me like crazy” Jaehyun laughed at your comment ear’s turning bright red again. “Let me get you cleaned up before everyone gets here” Jaehyun reached down to pick you up asking you which way to your room
“How about I tell everyone the party is canceled and we watch halloween movies instead?” giving you a warm smile Jaehyun pecked your forehead before agreeing with you.
“Deal”
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glorystark · 13 days
Text
Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.
Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death
Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader
Featuring: Sam Winchester
Word count: 2,3k
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We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.
“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.
“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.
“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.
“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.
“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.
“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.
“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”
“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.
“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”
“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.
“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.
“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”
“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.
“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”
I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.
I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.
Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.
—————
It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.
He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.
“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”
He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.
“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.
“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.
“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.
He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”
“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.
“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
"I thought you trusted me.”
“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.
"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.
“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”
That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.
“Y-you love me, you said that before.”
“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.
My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.
“Dean, please-“
“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.
Then I heard a buzz from my phone.
New message from Sammy:
“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”
He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.
Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?
I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.
—————
I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.
Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.
A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.
So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.
Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.
I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-
I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…
Dean Winchester’s Pov:
No no no.
This can't be happening.
It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.
I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.
It's a nightmare happening in real life.
Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.
I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.
There is so much blood everywhere.
Her blood.
This is hell.
No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.
I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.
I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.
“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”
She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.
She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.
All my fault.
All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.
As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."
And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…
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saiidahyunie · 1 month
Text
your fear, is my poison and masterpiece
vampire!myoui mina x doctorstrange!reader (pt. 3 / finale!!!) || fluff, smut
synopsis: doctor strange is willing to save a life, but it's you who has to face mina’s love, regrets, and pains.
warnings: blood ; violence ; use of guns ; unhinged reader, unhinged mina ; major character death ; past stories being shared ; little angst ; biting ; choking ; blood play?overstimulation ; little degrading ; slight bondage ; praise ; not proofread ; smut!!!!!
a/n: to @nr1chaedickrider @namojoon and @miinatozakiii, ty for waiting and for being my biggest supporters of this series!!
pt.1 pt.2
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mina’s brain is flowing in and out of consciousness, she can’t force herself to wake up no matter how hard she tries. 
the dream in her head switches to a singular mirror in the middle of the pitch blackness clouding her mind. she looks down to notice that she’s wearing white clothes before walking up to see her reflection, putting a hand against the glass feeling the coolness on her fingertips. 
mina steps in front of the glass, turning in every angle possible to examine the contours of her face, her expression stoic—behind every face there’s a mind that’s twisted by turmoil, and it’s no different with how she’s been in all of this. 
she looks down again at her hands and outfit to see the flashes of blood splattered all over before returning to normal, looking up again to see her reflection again now wearing the opposite color of black much like the clothes she wore when she came to see you. instead of it being simple and clean from the mirror, the rags were tattered and torn and her hair was all disheveled with scruffy dirt marks across her face. 
in a scare, mina steps back from the mirror, while her reflection is left unmoved, standing menacingly with her head at an angle. a sinister snicker is heard throughout the space as mina looks around the enclosed space before returning her look to the front. the reflection now gives her a smirk that makes mina question about this being in front of her. 
“you’re not real, you’re not real!” mina says to her reflection, psyching herself out of this supposed bad trick her mind is playing her. 
“on the contrary,” her reflection says with pride in her voice, “i’m afraid that it’s all too true for you to believe is it?” the sniding remark and tone is a lot more bashful as the mirror starts to warble in small waves. 
mina takes a step back, not letting the fright get to her once the mirror phases her reflection through like passing in water, standing her ground once face to face with her evil persona. 
having vampire powers was one thing, but having something taking possession of mina’s mind and body was something that scared her immensely. she has to fight. she has to, or else—
“i wonder why you’re thinking about your loved ones so much.” her other persona stops her train of thought, “did you forget what you did or do you want me to remind you of what you’ve become?” 
“stop, you know that you’re the one who took control that night,” mina tries to retaliate, “all those people killed–i can’t even go back to my family anymore! you ruined my life!” 
her other persona laughs, evilly. 
“you poor thing, such a shame to not embrace the gift that was given to you.” her other persona starts, “don’t you see the potential in your power if you just let me guide you on the right path?!” 
“i never wanted this to begin with! just let me fix this myself, please.” mina pleads, clutching on her villainous version, breaking down as soft sobs are heard echoing off in the chamber of her mind. 
“then you know what you need to do. what we have to do…” mina looks up at herself, surrendering to the notion that’s being said. “i wonder what look you would have if we also killed y/n along with—” 
“you wouldn’t dare.” 
“so do as i say, and maybe i’ll consider sparing her alongside you, once i have what i want.” 
the evil persona then rises above, rightfully taking her position while all that mina could do was helplessly look up before her evil persona then snaps her fingers flashing mina’s consciousness completely blank. 
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soft sounds of voices are heard, and mina is able to open her eyes just slightly. she couldn’t see much but two silhouettes of people looking over her, the hint of orange light surrounding her also hindering any more clarity for her to see who was who. 
a doze here and there, but mina’s ears picked up everything. 
“you’re talking about performing a spell that can lobotomize someone without even knowing if they’ll be alive by the end of it?” 
“better than resorting to an exorcism ritual to get an ancient vampire spirit out of a human being. i’m considering all of our options here.” 
mina remembers the sound of your voice. it was faint and on edge, but the fact that you were doing everything that you can to help her was all but reassuring as she shifts under the covers. you and wong look over to see the last second of movement before longing your look at mina’s slumber state. 
“this is a bad idea y/n, and the last thing we want is for your girlfriend to be tangled up in the worst case scenario.” wong says while flashing a look at you, closing the floating book in front of your head with both of his hands. 
“she’s not my girlfriend for god’s sake! just keep searching and let me know when you find anything.” you retort to a grunting wong who’s stomping away muttering out curses before the door to your room shuts behind him, leaving you and mina alone since that night she came to visit you. 
you scan the spellbook that you were holding off to the side, skimming through the outdated texts and sketches that showed the channeling of power in order to cast. closing the book right after and shaking your head finding nothing to help point the solution in the right direction, you look at the orange bubble that mina was under in your bed that you set as a precaution. in case you were able to fully determine if mina was in control or the evil entity. 
circling around the spacious queen size bed, you’re at mina’s bedside watching her peacefully sleeping. a solemn look is struck in your face, the heartstrings within you tugging at the thought of not being able to help—especially the person that has literally turned your world upside down so fast. 
with a wave of your hand, the orange bubble around mina’s sleeping body dissolves for you to get a closer look. watching over her like a protective guardian as a sudden thought pops in your head that makes you turn away at the sudden sound of a faint voice, like you were calling out for help. 
a vision flashed in your head of you being pinned on the ground by mina on top moaning in your ear, the heat growing between you two as she locked her gaze on you with half-lidded eyes. you shake your head at the thought but can’t help but think about it for a quick second before listening to mina’s labored breaths while sleeping.  
you then knelt at mina’s side of your bed, holding her hand and examining every line on her face with so much careful observation, you’re also trying to fight the urge within you to place a kiss while you stroke her head, tears welling up but not falling from your eyes as she shifts slightly from your touch. 
“i’ll keep trying.” you mutter, “i will do anything and everything that i can to make sure we get through this, together.” 
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when mina wakes up again, she feels a little out of it but at the same time refreshed, like she hasn’t had that kind of beauty sleep in weeks. 
her eyes flutter open to a different setting, from the very regal, majestic bed with an overhanging frame in your room from the sanctum sanctorum to a hospital bed (your hospital actually) all snuggled up properly with her head and one arm the only thing sticking out from the covers. 
she looks around the unfamiliar sight of the room with the only sound coming from the low hum of the humidifier at the table next to her as she shifts to sit up a little. looking at her right hand to see a clip attached to her pointer finger that was connected to the monitor keeping track of her heartbeat on her left side of the bed before rubbing her eyes to get rid of the sleepiness. 
“you’re finally up.” 
mina turns to see you off in the corner of the room sitting on a chair with your butt almost hanging off the seat, letting the lanky legs almost be parallel to the floor with your head tilted off to the side. you’re giving her this soft look, a loving gaze with the warmest smile that makes mina’s eyes widen at how you currently looked. 
a cropped puffer jacket with both hands in the pockets sits really well along with your long dress pants that really elongate your legs as you cross them over, still not moving your upper body whatsoever as you inhale with your head falling back. mina is left in awe with how your homey style when she came to see you switch up so fast with how dashing you were with casual wear, clear to say that you could’ve been a model for fendi or any high fashion brand, but that wasn’t in your department up until recently. 
you seem relaxed and well rested (or it could be the foundation you put on to hide your eyebags -which there were none-) and it seems like you were just trying to live normally as best as you could without all of the business of being a neurosurgeon or sorcerer supreme. superheroes need their breaks every now and then right? 
mina can’t help but stare blatantly, and she’s trying to figure out how long it’s been since she came to see you. she felt bad about bringing her problem to you in the first place and wants to set things right, all she ever wanted really was to be set free from the clutches of her family and be her own person, the aspirations she had for her life that she wanted to live, but at every turn of attempts, there was always someone to stop her and she hated that. 
you stretched out the lasting bits of tension from your aching body, legs rising off the ground before crossing them over again while you rub your knuckles through the pockets of your jacket. “is there something on my outfit or are you just gonna stare into my soul?” 
mina looks away coyly from your question, hiding the blush that’s hinted on her cheeks. you can’t help but chuckle at the wave of her hair falling onto one side hiding her face. 
“how long was i out?” she asks while turning back to you. 
“about three days.” 
mina furrows her brows at the amount of time that has passed since that night, but can’t help to ask more questions. “what did i do to get here?” 
you lean forward with your butt on the seat now, pulling your arms up and out over your knees to a more serious manner. “i brought you here. don’t worry, it was under wraps.” you answer. “we actually keep this level for more severe patients but you’re in one of the spare rooms that weren’t occupied.” 
“god, this is all a mess.” 
“believe me, i’ve dealt with worse.” you huff out, the tired tone in your voice clearly breaking through as a knock was heard on the door. cristina flashes her head in through the crack before coming in quietly with a tray full of today’s breakfast that was being served to the patients below. 
“nobody has noticed right?” you ask cristina, taking the two trays of food from her as she peeps through blinds to check if she was followed. “i’m actually surprised that no one asked about where you were going.”
“they just assumed that i’m taking extra food trays up for some of the peeps that are in the icu rooms, but yeah no one has said anything yet.” 
“do you think it’s okay for a few friends to visit up here?” 
“y/n, if word gets out that you’re keeping a potential criminal—” 
you hush cristina, nicking your head off to the side at mina who has a blank expression on her face when her name was mentioned, biting your inner cheek defending your crush with everything that you can. mina is not a criminal, and you were going to do any means necessary to help her clear her name. 
“sorry.” cristina mutters, “i know she means a lot to you, but you’d be coming under fire for this also when you’re supposed to be on temporary leave.” 
“i can deal with all of that later, they need my work and mind anyway so they can’t get rid of me that easily.” 
comforting cristina with your hands on her shoulders, you guide her out the door into the less bustling hallway, giving a word to be on the lookout in trade for letting in a few select guests courtesy of you, but it would only be a matter of time for the police and news outlets to swarm the front foyer of the hospital if someone speaks. 
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“say ahhhh….” 
you say with your parted mouth while feeding mina a spoonful of scrambled egg that leaves her giving you a gummy smile with how you look like you’re babying a child. 
mina can’t help herself with how cute you’re looking while taking care of her, so she opens her mouth for the spoon, humming at the taste once you pull back to get yourself a bite, wiping your mouth with a nearby napkin. 
“i can eat just fine y/n, you don’t have to do all this.” mina says, covering her mouth while chewing. 
“but i want to, so eat.” 
mina listens, swallowing the food down while you’re getting another scoop of egg from the bottom of the container, hovering the spoon over to mina again with a hand under it to prevent it from falling. “don’t make me say here comes the airplane—” 
“stop,” mina replies, opening her mouth for the spoon as you fed her again, putting the utensil on the tray with the breakfast meal now completely eaten. “thank you, it’s nice that you’re taking the time to help and take care of me.” she says, sighing while running her fingers against each other on her lap, looking down in a slight embarrassment. 
you hum, “you came to me, so i’m not resting until i can find a solid solution to your problem mina.” 
“but you should.” 
“and i won’t.” 
mina lets out a chuckle, “were you always the stubborn type? that’s not really your style to go by when impressing someone.” 
“it’s working on you, and it still is.” you beam, “after all, who saved you from that one man who tried to get up all in your bubble at the gala?” 
“okay, okay.” mina surrenders, “you do have a point with that one.” she says, holding her hands up in defeat, setting them down after. you smile at the slight bit of playfulness on her face and in her tone, reaching over to clasp her hand lightly, prompting a sense of comfort that makes mina blush a bit from the touch of your hand. 
you run your finger over the ridges of her knuckles, before pulling away with your hand going back into your puffer pocket, leaning back into the seat to relax considering that you’ve been keeping a close eye on mina for the entirety of the three days and nights (which meant that your sleep schedule was extremely fucked up) graveyard shifts were always normal when working, but this was the first instance in a while where your own mind was tormenting under the stress and constant disarray of questions that was pounding around in your head keeping you awake.
there’s still a lot to uncover here; the supposed curse set on mina, the whole mystery with the myoui family as a whole, what did mina’s dad have a role to play in, how were you going to clear mina’s name to the chief and jihyo, and not even forgetting about the small urge that’s tempting you from within whenever you set your eyes on mina—it’s not that noticeable for you to catch, but it feels like there’s a second thought, much like a voice telling you something otherwise. 
you were one of the strongest beings of the universe, the guardian of the magic arts, the one who left everything behind in order to save your own mind and body from destroying itself. this isn’t any different, but this is mina you’re trying to protect and save here, and you can’t help but think about the possible failures that could happen-
“y/n…” 
it’s still fresh in your mind, the look on your sister’s face in the car as it tumbled down the hill on the way to the special hearing event that night, the last moments before everything went blank as you hit the water—
“y/n.” 
the pain was too much to bear, every fiber in your bone and muscle aching when you dragged the lifeless corpse out of the car—hands destroyed and riddled with blood and metal shrapnels  s you cried your heart out waiting for the light of the helicopter to shine down on you, feet away from the wreckage. flashes of the lifeless body in your sister, the same thought happened with mina in your arms from that one dream or vision. you couldn’t save your sister, would the same outcome of fate happen with mina if you failed again—
“y/n!” 
snapped out in a trance, you’re staring at mina again, her eyes piercing through yours. like the smart girl that she is, your look gave it away that something was wrong. you inhale sharply, stretching out the limbs in your body like before when mina first came about from her slumber. you sit up, running a hand through your face to wipe off the tired look before you feel mina’s hand on your arm. 
“are you okay?” she asks, “you blanked out for a few seconds, and you were almost crying?!” 
“was i?” you say, nodding to answer her question before scratching the back of your neck to keep your body moving. “sorry…i just have.. .a lot on my mind…that’s all.” 
mina tilts her head out of sympathy, pressing her lips inward at you looking distressed, anxious. she’s never seen you this on edge before, let alone like you’ve lost a bit of color on your face or the light dimming in your eyes. 
“y/n.” mina says for the fourth time in a short span. you turn your attention to her. she sat a little bit higher due to the elevated hospital bed, making you slightly look up, but with those golden retriever eyes of yours, she lets out a needed smile at how soft you’ve become for her, and it’s the reassuring part about you that she really likes. “i wanted to ask you a question again.” 
“what’s on your mind?” you say, leaning forward, elbows on the edge of the bed and fist holding up your head, gazing at mina’s bare face and the pretty details around it. “you can always tell me without asking.” 
“why do you save lives?” she asks, and again the flashbacks are flooding in. 
blinking, lost and entranced, you’re snapped back with a rough exhale before scooting your chair closer to mina, lowering your head which prompted her to place her hand on the back of it to ease your troubles while you placed your flat palm on top of your shoulder where her hand was, giving a look of reassurance that you were okay to some extent. 
“well, i—” 
“let me rephrase,” she interrupts, “why are you the person you are today?” 
the question is internalized from your ears, your hands are between your legs clasped, you’re looking out the window that’s nothing but gray setting the dull mood throughout the room/ 
“i became who i am…” you begin, “because it was the only way out for me.” 
mina stares with the silence beating in, you’re looking downward at the sheets where mina’s legs are at, clutching your wrist at the pain you’ve been keeping to yourself for so long—
“i used to be like you; hard working, got everything that i ever wanted and more.” you answer, looking at her with a wistful gaze in your eyes. “all of that changed in a flash because of a silly mistake that cost everything.” 
“what happened?” 
clenching teeth, the memory just feels like yesterday post-op—the aftereffects of the concussion, the countless rods nailed into the bones of your hands suspended above your body like a zombie, and the daunting notion that you were the sole survivor, and all five stages of grief was the only resolve in your mind. 
“i was invited to an event. brought my sister as a plus one who wanted to attend these special gatherings. we were on the way there when there was a crash.” you say, staring out the window with the sounds from the car that night faintly going through your head. “we got blindsided by some other driver on the opposite end, sending our car tumbling down the hill to the ocean below.” 
mina is appalled by this, and you have only told a few people outside of the hospital circle about your accident, it still traumatized you to this day. you kept your heart and terrific mind, but your hands and not to mention—
“i fought everything that my body was forcing on me, getting out of a flooded car with completely destroyed hands, dragging my sister’s body to the shore. i couldn’t save her in the end.” you add on, dipping your head at the thought before mina’s hand finds your shoulder again. you look at her with tears welling, you’ve never shown this side of you to anybody since the accident, but mina understood—and her comfort was definitely all the more reassuring. 
“i may not have had the same luxury like you, but—” 
“y/n, that doesn’t matter, keep going.” she orders. 
“right,” you mutter, fixing yourself up in your chair. “after the accident, i pooled everything that i could into fixing my hands, and it burned bridges with some of the closest people that turned their backs on me because of my greedy arrogance, to fix something, make me feel better again.” 
it’s a shock to mina. this revelation. you were the same as her (to some extent), but she can relate to your life story the more you shared. 
“i did everything i could, but it brought me to the doors of a temple, a new world and…it saved my life.” 
“y/n.” mina says. “i didn’t know—” 
“it’s okay.” you answer. “if it weren’t for that one way ticket in a last ditch effort, i wouldn’t be where i am today.” you bring your hands up to show her. they looked better with time, but the fading scars were still present as well as the lingering shaking, but you’ve healed; moved on further from that phase of your life, and here you are.
“i used to think that my life was the only thing that mattered.” you say to mina, clasping her hand at the side of her leg, looking at her with a soft smile. “but people like you have shown me so much more, and maybe some lives are worth saving than my own.” 
“sorry, i shouldn’t have—” 
mina tries to say, but your lips were suddenly pressed against hers. the initial contact is gentle enough to knock the wind out of the both of you under normal circumstances. time seems to slow down even more when you cup her face with your hands, and mina’s hand grabbing onto your wrist. the feeling and taste of her lips against your own that was the only thing on your mind right now. 
she’s the one to pull away first, grasping your hand lightly to stop as your eyes flutter open while retreating. 
“sorry.” now you’re the one apologizing. “too much?” 
mina giggles gently, her head in between your hands still, thumbs grazing her cheek lightly before lowering them. “didn’t know the magic doctor would have a soft spot for someone like me. it’s kinda cute.” 
you try to rebut, but mina’s lips swoop in for a quick peck before pulling away to have a better look at your surprise expression. she stares at you for a second, appreciating the hint of red spreading from the top part of your cheeks just under your eyes, tapping the beauty mark that’s alongside your jawline before wiping a wisp of lint that got stuck on your eyebrows with her thumb.
“shouldn’t you be working technically?” 
“well.” you respond. “i’m on leave actually, but i help advise some of the other specialists every now and then. you’re not trying to get rid of me are you?” 
“no, i’m not.” 
“don’t lie to me.” 
“i’m not!” 
“mhm.” 
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you kept a close eye on mina at the hospital every now and then. tasking cristina to also check up on her with food as well as any other essential needs that she might ask. most of the other workers, including the ones that you usually talk with, didn't really seem to bat an eye or even ask what you were still doing in the hospital when you’re supposed to be on temporary leave (should be permanent since you’re a freaking superhero and saving lives in a different way). 
when you are not at your office finding solutions for mina, you’re spending most of your free time with her. watching movies, talking about magic spells and showing her, and even losing to her on mario kart since she requested to have a nintendo switch in her room (you couldn’t say no to that). it’d only been roughly about two to three weeks since the gala incident—maybe even longer since you were in a slight coma, but everything was against the clock now. 
one day, you took a break from looking at some brain scans, knocking at the door to mina’s room when you hear her faint voice prompting you to come in. swinging the door slightly open popping your head with a dumb smile, mina’s face lightens up with yours while you walk in. “sorry to keep you waiting minari. still did some reading and a few other things.” 
“i was wondering if you were gonna see me today.” she replies, “am i gonna be discharged anytime soon?” 
“as much as i love to take you home with me, police activity is still prominent in searching for you.” you reply, “the sanctum would be the ideal place, but you gave wong a scare with…” 
“right…” 
“but that was one of the things i wanted to ask you about, you’re essentially helping me a bit with this actually.” 
mina looks up as if her face says ‘me? you want help from me? the person with vampire powers helping the sorcerer supreme?’ 
“well, but how do expect me to—” 
“just listen to what i have to say.”
“okay…” 
mina’s attention is zeroed in on you sitting down like when she first woke up, hand on head with your elbow on the bed. “i’ve been looking at brain scans along with reading some psychiatric cases in between.” 
“what about it?”
“well, there could be a number of factors that can explain why, but i was able to narrow it down to maybe one or two things.” 
mina raises her hand up at you, signaling to stop, raising your eyebrow in curiosity at the sudden action while also shutting you up. 
“i’ve been thinking about this also, but i don’t know if it makes real sense.” 
“nothing is too crazy if you’re talking to me about supernatural stuff.” 
mina laughs, dipping her head down while you shake your head smiling. “okay but maybe you can try to answer this.” 
you look at her again, everything about mina was just ethereal about her. once again, you’re blushing slightly with the hints of flirting you’re casually dishing out. 
“you know how we have a conscience right? or like a second voice?” 
“yeah. or at least something to that degree.” you answer, leaning back in your chair.
“what if,” mina pauses with parted lips, “that second voice is real, like it's almost a different person.” 
“that could be plausible, but—”
would that really explain what you might be assuming? 
before mina could add on, a knock on the door is heard outside the room. the both of you look toward the sound interrupting your conversation, remembering that you asked to meet with this person to help you with finding the probable cause of solving mina’s case. 
“i completely forgot,” you say, “i asked someone to meet up with me around this time, but you’re onto something mina.” 
“really?” 
“well if what you’re saying is true, then maybe.” you reply “let me see first, stay here for me will ya?” 
“i’m not going anywhere.” she says, smiling. 
“good.” you say, leaning to give mina a quick peck before leaving the room to the hallway. once you were on your way out, mina hears a faint whisper in her head, her smile dropped to a more serious expression, and her eyes flashed red again. 
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once the door closed from the outside, you notice that a woman was standing against the wall next to the window, wearing a layered dress shirt over a vest with an id clipped onto it.
“i was wondering if you were here or not.” the woman says to you, rubbing her eye for probably the nth time since she came to the hospital. 
“so you did look at my text nayeon.” you reply, standing in front of her while you wiped your lips from the remnants of mina’s lip gloss with your finger. “and i thought that you’d never leave your lab for something like this.” 
“well after i heard that jihyo gave you some insight with the case, i figured that you would also need my help with the files you pulled.”
“alright mrs. phd, impress me.” 
nayeon laughs at the sly jab of banter you threw at her while she looks at her phone that showed photos of brain scans, you automatically assumed that dr. hirai also looked at these when assessing mr. myoui’s condition after the surgery. 
“if you look at the different contrasts of how the brain is showed in this imaging.” she says while swiping the screen to show brainwaves that you knew that nayeon also did herself as testing. “notice how all the readings aren’t as consistent as they were before?” 
“i get what you’re saying.”
“i also looked at the logs that jihyo provided from dr. hirai, and the transcripts of those said conversations.” nayeon added, “we could be seeing a different kind of problem here.” 
“you’re not saying that the—“
“this issue has happened before, but we thought of it to be more of a psychological disorder.” she states, “the way he sounded and from the audios can only imply one thing only.” 
maybe what mina was asking about to you is true after all.
“we’re looking at a split personality disorder then.” 
“of something to that degree.” nayeon replies, “spiderwoman had a confrontation with the father after the whole gala thing and she said that he was like, unstable…erratic to better word it.”
everything starts to make sense. you’ve glossed at the case files, and the spellbook that you were looking at while mina was being tended to all started to add up. that red moon was the catalyst of unleashing something within mina. that, and the freak accident that happened to her while she was little while her dad was working at the lab in minatozaki industries. gears in your head started to work at overtime piling all of the information from the past couple of days or weeks. it all comes down to one thing.
“shit.” the realization hits you much harder than a truck. 
“what’s wrong?” nayeon asks you.
“if what you’re saying is true, then we should ask mina about this.” 
“are you sure?”
“anything is better to help her get out of this situation.” you say, “she already wanted to seek help from more people, so this is good.”
nayeon slots her phone back in her pocket, crossing her arms after while tilting her gaze back to you. “i hope you’re doing the right thing here, y/n. you’re lucky i have a study into the psychosocial aspect of someone’s mind.”
“should’ve been a neurologist.”
“bite me.” 
“been there, done that.”
the both of you let out a chuckle together before a sudden thud is heard inside the room. your expression shifts over when you look to the side and back at nayeon, sprinting to the door and shoving it open. 
your heart drops at the sight of the unoccupied bed, the tousled sheets and the cords of the monitors behind all flatlining in an erie tone. the window was open and a cool breeze was blowing through the open passageway. 
a sigh of defeat leaves your lips, scratching your head while nayeon scans the room for any signs or traces. but the situation was all too present to revel in. mina was gone. 
“i should’ve done something about this sooner.” you huff out irritably, placing a hand on the bed while the game on the tv showed the ‘you lose’ words all bold and red for you to see. you back at nayeon with a more stern appearance now, seething air into your teeth before rubbing your chin trying to think about the next move.
“did you always have sharp canines?” nayeon asks you suddenly, noticing the grit teeth from your mouth. “i know that you have the bite mark on your neck but—“
“it’s nothing.” you answer, “i’m fine, and yeah. it’s like baby fang teeth that i’ve had for a while.” 
“hm, okay.” nayeon says coolly. “well i should go back to the lab, i have to fix up another damaged suit for spiderwoman, but let me know if you need additional lab details.”
“i’ll text you, thanks anyway nayeon.”
she hums and excuses herself from the room, leaving you all alone again. this corner was all too familiar to you, and the impending thought of losing after everything that has happened up until this point creeps back into your mind.
you’ve faced many things as doctor strange, but this is just you; no mystical powers, a person that has been grounded down to reality, their whole life changed in an instant, still hands reduced now lingering remnants of the accident, but a mind that still has years of knowledge inside. a broken being who’s burnt bridges and relationships who wanted to fix everything.
mina was the same, she’s the same as you to some degree. she didn’t ask for this to happen, but she’s been thrusted into this whole debacle because of ignorance. her resolve to bring justice for herself against the people that hurt her, and she would be the kind of person to see it through to the end. 
you’ve seen the side of mina that can be loved, cared for, the one where you could leave everything behind just to be with her. you didn’t think you’d have feelings for her, but it’s too strong now to suppress. but there’s a side that you haven’t even uncovered yet, like a secret that only she wants to keep to herself. 
all of these questions could be answered sooner, but the first one that’s the major part of the business while it somewhat scares you now was, 
where could have mina possibly gone off to? 
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not that long, maybe some hours later, you’re floating in air along with some of the towering skyscrapers while the whole city is shrouded in a cloudy dusk.
you’re recounting the facts in your head: the myoui family history, the night at the gala, the other night when mina came to you for help, mina, sharing those brief intimate moments of comfort and care, but there was one aspect that was still a blank page for you in unfolding all of this. 
what the heck was the big accident that you’ve been hearing and reading about? 
you stay idle, ascending upwards slightly as your mind continues to tirelessly work, becoming flush with the clouds as the people below become smaller and smaller in your vision. 
thoughts keep flowing in your brain, piecing the whole puzzle together. being suspended in the air was your safe place (frankly, you took inspiration from that one anime character that’s wearing a blindfold with white hair that wong has been watching as of recently) but there was something serene about the silence while being thousands of feet up from the ground.
pensive, but was nayeon’s study actual concrete evidence in addition to the files, recordings, and transcripts of conversations that pose mina’s dad as a threat behind all this? could mina really—no, there’s no possible way even that thought is real. 
brother, saving the universe was more taxing compared to this. 
wait. 
brother?
a spark clicks in your brain. 
you remember looking at the case file jihyo handed to you, the list of names checked off in your head one by one, but there was one outlier, and not to mention it was crossed off in scribbles repeatedly.
mina did mention something, or someone. she couldn’t bring herself to mention the name, nearly breaking down in tears that same night she came to see you. 
you knew exactly where she is.
because it’s also the same place you swore you’d never bring yourself to. 
so without a second thought, you teleport yourself in a quick flash to that location where’d you hoped it would be the same place that mina was, proving every assumption right. 
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mina lands awkwardly on a grassy area, her steps staggered as she tries to regain her balance from flying. 
she hobbles over across a row of tombstones, stopping to kneel at one that was a little more adjacent to a nearby tree. wiping the twigs and other grassy parts off from the nearby stone before grazing it with her thumb, tracing the words etched into the rock that was tantamount to the pain she’s been holding in for so long. 
here lies ray myoui, a bright star and beacon of light. 
mina then stands up to back away a few feet from the tombstone, staring at the words while hanging her head in shame at the memory. sounds from her childhood come creeping back of that fateful night that changed everything.
“ray? mina? what are you doing here?! you have to get out, it's too dangerous!” 
“i have to help!”
“ray! don’t go in there!”
“dad stop!”
“sir! we have to leave it’s gonna blo—“
she shakes her head from the flashback, clenching her fist and jaw. a cool breeze flows through the overhanging tree, blowing her hair while she sniffles a bit in a brief moment of sadness.
“i promise ray, i’ll make them pay…i’ll make all of them pay… for this.” mina says with grit teeth. “they can try to stop me, but your story will be told. i won’t be scared anymore.” 
mina then fishes a wilted rose from her pocket, laying it on the tombstone before kissing her palm, planting it on top of the rose. even if her brother was no longer on this earth, she loved him more than her parents who neglected him, now they’re doing the same thing to her. it’s all because of her dad, it wouldn’t bring ray back but it’d be the best bit of justice to have. 
she stays still with her palm flat on the stone, the breeze coming in more forcibly this time before zipping up her windbreaker that she stole. 
“figured that you’d be here.”
a voice calls from behind that was too gentle to run away from. 
mina turns and her expression shifts to a more shocked look at the sight of you floating down from above, the gracefulness behind it once your feet hit the ground, eyes fluttering open with a face full of sympathy, a hint of hurt lying underneath it.
a woolen turtleneck sits nicely on your figure, your hair is wavy like a post makeout session or fresh out of the shower kind of look. you seem relaxed, tired even, but mina can’t help but stare like before when she first woke up back at the hospital. you looked good, radiating cold all over (you were literally up with the empire state building but that’s enough to digress). 
the distance is short between you and mina, like a standoff in one of those old school western movies. your shoulders are square with mina’s, and your hands are still in your pockets, not itching for a fight, a clash of minds some would say like in a game of chess. 
one of you will lose this staring contest over who has the better face card. (spoiler alert: the wind is the winner.) 
“how did you find me?” mina asks, slightly shaken, considering that she had left no traces back at the hospital. which got her thinking, but then again, you were the master of the mystic arts–so this was like child’s play of cat and mouse the way you looked unamused with a tugged smile at the corner of your mouth. 
“i don’t usually like coming here,” you say, looking off to the distance filled with rows of tombstones filling the hills. “not my favorite spot of the city exactly.” 
mina steps a bit forward, nearly inviting herself in your personal bubble, but freezes for a second when she sees your face was still unchanged. “i should’ve said something before when you asked me, i’m sor–” 
“mina,” you say sternly, meeting her eyes because you didn’t need to have her tell you again. “i know.” 
she closes her lips, looking down at her feet. of course you would know about mina’s past, but mina doesn’t know you left one detail out about your accident that shares a sort of commonality between the two of you. 
“this was also the same place where i buried my sister.” 
mina’s eyes on your face fall from wistful to crestfallen, remembering the story you told her a few days ago also humanizes her motives. your smile was gone, unmasking the hidden universe in your eyes that no one has been able to see, until now. “her grave is a little bit past this hill, but i’ve never actually been able to stand in front of it.”
“i see,” mina replies, looking down at her brother's tombstone, patting it to acknowledge his presence in front of you. “sorry again for not asking in the first place.”
“you shouldn’t go off running like that anyway,” you reply, voice slightly strained with worry. “you’re already in danger as it is.”
she winces at the words, knowing the state of her whole situation. she’ll only make things worse if she plays damsel in distress, so the only logical thing to do was to stay put and safe with you. 
“you should’ve told me about your brother.” you say with your head tilted at an angle, “i know that there’s other things to worry but for me to find out while you’re roaming around the city wasn’t the right move.”
“i—i just couldn’t. you know how much i wanted to tell.” mina pleads, closing the distance between you and her more closely by just a few inches. “believe me y/n, this means too much to—“
“then why didn’t you say anything when you came to me that night?”
“because i was afraid of how you’d see me if i told you that i was responsible for my brother’s death?!” 
you remain frozen, unmoved at the fact that mina blames herself over a freak accident from their youth. you’ve seen the case files from jihyo, mr. myoui’s transcripts and recordings with dr. hirai, it doesn’t change the fact that mina is innocent—and you’re gonna do everything to help clear her name. 
“mina.” you say her name against the cool wind, and the way the syllables bounce off your tongue makes the hairs on the back of her neck shiver. “i know you’re scared, and you feel powerless. but i’ve told you this before already, i’m here for you. there’s no need to run away any longer, i can help you.”
mina bites the inside of her cheek, shaking her head slightly trying to deny the situation. she wants to stand on her own ground, to defy against everything her family made her think and believe. she can do it, her resolve more firm and clear than anything in this godforsaken world can throw at her. standing up to her father was one of her biggest ever fears, and with her powers, she can do that unlike before. 
“there’s better ways to handle this,” you say, “no one has to get hurt.” 
“how could you possibly know that?!” 
“because,” your voice becoming more gentle and easing, “i understand. all of it.” 
“wha–” 
“i know what it means to lose someone you care so much about.” you say, “i’m no different than you mina, we’re both the same.” 
mina’s gaze softens, brows furrowing while you close your eyes walking forward, making your turn to shorten the gap between you and her. “don’t let your pain blindly drive you to madness wishing that things would be different.” 
she looks down again, the top of her head hitting your collarbone slightly. you look off to the distance, spotting the area where your sister’s tomb was at. recalling the memory of the funeral service with all of your parents and the rest of your family members all gathered to see the coffin be lowered into the ground. 
despite everything that has happened, you kept yourself at a distance, knowing that if you were with your family members, the pain would be too great to bear—so you saw her off from far away; distant and disconnected, but it was the right thing to do. 
tears are stained into your turtleneck, the sounds of the sobs muffled against the fabric as you wrapped an arm around mina while she clutched your waist with her arms. you catch a quick whiff of the apricot scent that was in her hair from the hospital, placing a light kiss on the top of her head to comfort her while mina collects herself. 
“you okay?” you ask mina, still buried into your sweater. a faint muffle of ‘yes’ can be heard while you pat her back. “at least i got to meet ray finally.” 
mina lets out a light chuckle while she wipes her face from the stained tears on her cheek, you’re brushing a few strands of her hair before rubbing your thumb on her cheek, giving a loving look with your eyes, orbs piercing through hers as she lifts a soft smile. “let me say goodbye before we go.” 
so you comply with her request, giving mina some space for a few more minutes, standing on the edge of the tree just before the leaves meet the cloudy sky. watching her kneel down to the tombstone, cleaning the last bits of sticks and twigs from the ground surrounding it before dipping her head down. she gives a few parting words before closing her eyes, whispering to herself before fluttering them open again, the hint of red fading away before standing up, turning to you looking off to the distance again. 
she makes her way to you, a soft smile spread across your face. playing it cool while she hugs you again, your chin on the top of her head, letting yourself hug her before she rests her face on the right side of your chest. she looks up to meet your eyes, and you’re looking down slightly while her hand snakes up to the back of your neck.
“thank you.” mina says, closing the space between your lips with hers. the kiss in itself was intoxicating as your hands snake around her hips again, pulling her towards you while she cups your face with her other hand that wasn’t occupied. there was something alluring about mina this time compared to the other instances, but the relief that you found mina again was the only thing on your mind right now. nothing else mattered. 
you pull away after a few moments, half-drunk from mina’s captivating lips while you catch your breath, her hand on your chest trying to calm down the rapidly beating heart inside. retracting your lips inward and knitting your brows together that makes mina’s eyes appear more glossy, wanting more.
“just do one thing for me this time,” you mutter, looking down in slight embarrassment, “stay with me for now, at my place.” 
“did you have something else in mind?” 
“and never leave me.” 
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once back at your place, it had already become nightfall. you don’t even bother turning the lights on around the house because what’s the point in doing so?
mina is in tow right behind you, and all of a sudden your mind feels a little woozy. propping back against the doorframe leading into your room, mina stops you in your tracks to see what was wrong. how typical you; letting your guard down for just a second, the irony of being a doctor and getting sick. 
or maybe it was something else, and you never saw it coming.
“everything fine y/n?” mina asks you, standing opposite from you in the doorway, trying to shake off the sudden headache that was pounding in your head. “you don’t look good.” 
“yeah, i’m fine.” what a tremendous lie that was for you to say. “i need to keep searching for answers from the spellbooks.” 
“you shouldn’t,” mina objects, “you can barely stand up straight.” 
“this is for you. i don’t care about myself.” 
mina sighs out, like it was calculated or prompted from the exchange of words. “you should relax.” 
you want to, but you know you can’t. not while there’s still questions left unanswered and theories to be tested. 
“maybe this can ease your mind.” 
mina pounces at the opportunity, locking lips with yours again, not letting up any chance for you to retaliate or move. a swipe of her tongue into your parted mouth catches you off guard, and you start to kiss her back. 
your mind starts to become more hazier and hazier as the seconds pass. mina pushes more into your mouth exploring more, the space behind your back now becoming more open as you two shuffle towards the bed. you don’t even realize it at first because your lips are being cast under the spell of mina’s. 
it’s enchanting, and dangerous. consuming all of you, and you’re powerless to go against it. 
a whimper is let out when mina lightly bites the same spot she bit as a vampire from that night at the gala, and you stop her for a second, clutching her shoulders while she pulls the nipped skin of your scar. 
“this isn’t right…” you try to say, words getting slurred against mina’s mouth as she repeatedly kisses you. turning away to stop her again before anything else happens. 
this feeling is too unfamiliar, and every notion of morality is replaced by lust, or maybe it was all a ploy in mina’s game. 
“mina…” 
you attempt to stop her for one final time, but she’s quick to shut you up, pushing you on the bed, straddling you with one arm over while the other is pinned to the side. you’re too weak to move, inhibitions lowered with half lidded eyes and all of the nerves in your body feel numb. 
“no,” she hushes you, finger against your lips while she trails down to your neck, grazing the two holes on the right side of your throat. “not mina.” 
not mina? this feels like a dream gone bad, but when your eyes are met with hers again, glowing a hint of red underneath the brown—
“sharon.” 
your mind was too far gone to process what was happening. under the alluring spell, the adrenaline suddenly rushes in your veins, snapping you out for a millisecond before sharon’s lips are crashed with yours, subduing you to her spell even more. 
she forces your arms over your head again, head falling to your neck to bite you in the exact same spot like last time, causing you to yell out in pain, sharon pulling away with fangs now bearing along her teeth, small smears of your blood spread across her lips. 
“i forgot how good you tasted.” sharon says, licking up your neck leaking a bit of blood while you squirmed under her, her grip tightening around your wrists and waist keeping you in place. “looks like my little imprinting experiment worked on you. just took a little bit of time for it to take effect.” 
“fuck–y-you—” 
“ah ah ah,” sharon giggles out, “try to resist it with your natural powers, and the spell will only make it worse, hurting you from the inside.” 
your mind is clouded by mina’s–no– sharon’s spell casted from her mouth, causing you to be under her influence. she’s licking her lips at the sight of your face being flushed, and you’re staring off to the side in hopes that all will come to pass, but her hand is quick around your neck, halting your breathing for just a second. 
“is there something that you want from me, hmm?” sharon asks, “because i can fulfill your desires more than mina ever will.” 
shivering under her touch, her fingers find their way under your turtleneck, the electric sensation of her fingertips grazing over your breast while she roughly kisses you again, eyes glowing underneath while you moan into her mouth. the heat is building in between your thighs, rubbing them together with her leg just beneath the space. the natural fight or flight response kicks in from your brain that isn’t taken over by her lust driven powers. when you push her off, making a break for the door before she grabs your shoulders, throwing you onto the frame of the bed, making you grunt at the sudden pain in your back. 
sharon is quick to mount on your hips again, both of her hands wrapped around your neck again, gripping her wrists to try to get them off. she’s hissing at how much you’re resisting, and her nails are dug into your skin, wincing at how sharper they became. “try to be a bad girl for me again, and the next thing you’ll feel is the cold hard ground when i drop you.” 
there’s no point in fighting, her lips are on yours again, the spell a lot more powerful this time around, marking up your neck again that makes you clutch the back of her head to prolong the contact. she rips off the sweater from your chest, dipping down to kiss your breasts still being held captive by your bra. 
she stops for a second, growling at the sudden stoppage of her assault on you. “are you gonna be good for me? i can sense your thoughts before you even make a move.” 
“y-yes.” you say weakly. 
“so desperate,” sharon says, tracing her finger across your cheek. “how pathetic of you to be like this for me.” 
“i–i—” 
sharon tilts her head, snickering at how you were whimpering to say something, clutching your face forcing you to look up at her. “so now you want something?” 
you shouldn’t, how could you let this happen?
“i want you…” 
the mind is too racked with how sharon has handled you, like a drugged being hopelessly in love. 
“to mark me…” 
you mindlessly rip off your bra, the stars sharon is seeing in your eyes while her red orbs are laser focused on your face and the newly exposed area beneath. 
“as yours.” 
you’ve been poisoned.
the toxicity of this moment has engulfed you, and the craving sensation is humbling—embarrassing to say the least. 
this atmosphere in your small space between you and sharon is hot, her eyes gleaming—hypnotizing you under her rule. you can’t resist, you’re mindlessly letting your hands wander up and down her body, and she’s giggling at you. why is she like this? did i mean to say that? i can’t resist this feeling—
i need her, all of her.
“i’m intrigued, y/n.” sharon says, “i saw everything within you, your thoughts and feelings—the way you dream about her. don’t squander away from the truth. mina could never seize an opportunity like this if it weren’t for me.” 
your throat is dry, unable to speak no matter how much you wanted to. in this space where everything seems to fade out from reality, the room grows darker than it already has. sharon leans down, kissing all over your chest before her nails lightly claw over your breasts. you could feel the sharp fang nearly drawing blood to your skin, clutching to her back once her tongue makes contact with the erected bud of your nipple, causing you to bite your lip at the sensation. 
“take my fucking pants off.” you spat, wretched from the way that sharon has been nearly teasing you for quite some time now. “rip it from my body, i’m begging—.” 
“do you think i should listen after putting me in chains when i came to you?” 
her gaze burns through your face, the pit in your stomach deepens. the words that are coming out of your mouth shouldn’t be even said at all. you’ve fantasized about a night with mina—just slightly—-but you envisioned it to be soft and tender.
this version of mina was completely out of left field, despite how feral she was with her disheveled hair, fangs on the upper row of her teeth, the way she effortlessly tossed you on the bed after resisting, how her kisses were more aggressive, rougher. 
to admit it would only ensure your defeat.
“i…” you try to speak, “just—“
the words are slow to bounce off the tongue and teeth, hands grilling the bedsheets under you while sharon’s mouth hovers over your ear. her breath flowing down the canal that makes you move your head from the feeling, and her head follows your movements. 
sharon’s hands are quick around your waist, the cold palms in combination with her mouth marking up any territory that wasn’t touched on your skin, trailing down to your waist that makes your back fucking arch.
“le—let me,” the stuttering words falling out while sharon continues to bite lightly across the plane of your stomach.  
“you taste delicious, that and your blood. i wonder if what you have down there is more mouth-watering to fulfill my cravings.”
“fucking hell, mina—“
“how the mighty have fallen so high.” sharon sighs out, cleaning up your bloodied neck more with her mouth. casually speaking, most people would bleed out at this point but your endurance was well worked for you to still be alive—only to be overpowered by pleasure. “you’ve dreamed about me doing this, haven’t you?”
“not exactly,” you reply, playing along with this game, but you’re not even sure if you’re the one answering or if her spell is answering for you. 
“what if i said that mina is able to do this without my help?” her voice husked out with every bite to it.
sharon is leading this naturally, and all you’re instructed to do is follow and surrender. you don’t even realize the pants coming off of your legs because her eyes are keeping you entranced, teasing you by hovering her lips over yours—inciting a string of mewls and whines that makes her laugh at your appearance. 
you don’t answer her question, resulting in more blood being sucked out of you, sharon humming at the seeping life drained away from your being. 
“please,” you groan out, sharon’s chin grinding along the digits of your abs, spreading you apart, sharp fangs hitting your inner thighs, yelling a quick ‘ah!’. head leaned all the way back from the quick teasing that is nothing but torture. 
sharon waves her hand, whispering out a cantation that materializes chains, clutching your wrists—keeping them apart and spread away from your body. you don’t resist from it, the spell you were under now nullifying all rational thoughts; you were under sharon’s full control. 
“to think the sorcerer supreme would be like this for me, this should be a big achievement.”
she kisses you again, this time more sensually in contrast to her hungry, assertive kisses. her hands cupping your face as she prolongs the feeling of your lips on hers. 
there’s a brief three second period of open air, a relief before you’re caught off guard when her mouth is on your pussy, the flat of her tongue swiping up and in—your feet point forward as her hands are quick to keep your hips in place.
nails digging into your flesh, the sheets below are rumpled up as your hands are clenched into fists against the restraints. your cunt being well worked in addition to your clit being shuffled into the mix.
“god, you’re fucking ravishing. it’s unbelievable.” sharon mumbles as she dives back for more, hips bucking while she claws your breast, the overstimulation from her mouth has you clenching your teeth, hips off from the bed as her tongue is deep in you, so deep.
a pendulum swings in your stomach, the familiar feeling that you’ve been deprived up for so long, from the licking and sucking and hissing and groaning that’s happening at your core, every nick and bone in your body tenses up for the release. it’s only a matter of time until—
“fucking—c-cumming, god mi—“ you say, gritting your teeth together. sharon looks up from your pussy to see the peak of your chin aimed at the ceiling, picturing your face with eyes rolled back against the lids, mouth hanging open and voice straining as if you fight back the moans (you don’t).
sharon helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping up the leaking slit with every part of her tongue, the sharp fangs of her teeth pinching a little around your swollen cunt, pulling away while she cleans her lips with her tongue, admiring the work she has done over you.
“you look so adoring.” she coos, fingers skating up and down your hips, thumb swiping your clit that makes you twitch from the contact of her fingertip. “but you want more don’t you?”
you’re mumbling out this sound from your lips, something like yes, always. it shouldn’t feel this good, but it does. it does. it does. it does, it does—
she soothes the wound on your neck, the bleeding stopped from the two slightly gaping holes on your throat, appearing like a colon. light kisses with a small hiss leaving her lips, she makes her way back up to you, trapping her face with yours for a few moments. 
“so amusing,” she says, expectant and landing kisses on your cheek. you’re left breathless as she murmurs this into your skin, “i’m surprised that you haven’t bled out completely yet.”
(well—i mean—you were the master of the mystic arts, jack of all trades some would say, but that’s irrelevant.)
before you could even answer, her lips are on yours again for however it’s been since you two got back in your apartment. she’s gnawing at your bruised lips, never letting up in savoring the taste of her blood smeared lips, the hints of iron on your taste buds. she pulls away after, your lidded eyes are crossed slightly while fixed on her face, licking your lips for more.
“since you’re so good, i guess i could be a little nicer.” she says, a snap of her fingers that makes the chains on your wrists vanish into thin air. sharon then takes off the shirt, discarding it somewhere off in the room. your eyes widen at the clad chest hanging over you, salivating while she sighs with her hands bracing the headboard. 
“you can touch me now.” she says lowly, prompting you to let your hands finally have fun for a bit, rubbing up and around sharon’s midsection to your heart’s content. sharon sighs at the contact of your hands, biting her lip at the appearance of your dried blood smeared all over your neck and chest, the hickeys also present before you got ahead of yourself when she feels your lips nipping at her collarbone, causing her to push you back onto the bed forcefully. 
“i don’t like that.” she says, indulging another bite into your neck–your weak spot at this point before she plants her lips with yours to keep the spell in effect, this time leaving you completely incapacitated. “you’ve lost your touching privileges, now i’m going to absolutely ruin you.” 
your mind tries to respond, but a part of you already understands. predator to prey, this was how it is now. 
her lone hand trails down as you feel the nails skate over your sensitive skin. face flushed hot pink just like yours that was more crimson than hers, but the sensation grows down under when sharon parts your folds, causing your hips to shift off to the side the more she continues her up and down motion. 
“f-fuck–more…plea–se, fuck mi–shit–” you’re slurring your words at this point while sharon teased you yet again, holding off everything in your thoughts to move while she’s whispering something into your ear again, the tone and eroticness just enough to make your head explode. 
“what am i to you?” 
“y-yours…” 
“say it again.” 
trying to shake off her head on the side of you, it doesn’t work. defying wasn’t the answer—it’s even worse when she slips a finger inside your cunt, feeling how slick it has become while she soothed you again with a soft kiss on your jaw. a whine being the only pathetic utterance coming out of your mouth. 
“don’t make me ask again.” sharon snarls, fangs grazing your face while she clutches the roots of your hair. “if you want more, say it.” 
“i’m yours sharon…” you say and the fog swallows you whole in your mind.
“lovely, you’ve earned it.” 
another digit is inserted inside you, causing you to moan more loudly than before. the litany of curses that leaves your mouth is nothing more than a classical arrangement. sharon's long and slender fingers slide in and out effortlessly, and she’s just enjoying the moment hearing these sounds out of you. 
the pace continues on for more, and you’re gritting your teeth–trying to fight the inevitable. she senses this, feeling it. you’re stifling a moan with your hand over your mouth, but sharon swipes it away, holding it down on the pillow before she bites into your shoulder to make you feel the mix of pain and pleasure.
“you can keep calling me mina or sharon, darling. either way, she can hear these lovely sounds coming out of you. let me hear it all.” 
“s-stop–” you whine, the senseless fucking in a consistent rhythm still present all over your body. sharon can only keep smirking while you’re about to become unraveled again. 
“scream for me, i can feel you arching.” 
the moment comes in a flash, your body is simply past its limits—limits that you didn’t even think were possible in a time like this, and you yell out and fall slack, twitching while sharon keeps the contact in your pussy with her fingers, pulling out soon after with her fingers covered with your juices. you were thoroughly fucked. 
she towers over your body, the marks, hickeys, flushed face, puffy pussy and lips, tousled hair, the bruised wrists from the chains. the glowing red eyes fade away for a slight millisecond, back to mina, and she doesn’t say a word before sharon returns. she then showers a few light kisses, before biting into the other side of your neck—marking her territory again while sucking away another few pints of blood before retreating completely. 
your eyes try to stay open as much as possible, you’re too sterile to really move or do anything, so you just lay barren, exposed and wrecked, just how she wanted you to be. 
“you belong to me, my beautiful masterpiece…” she whispers out to you, the airy breath leaving her lips while your mind slips into the darkness of unconsciousness. 
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the following day after that night was an unwelcome one. 
you’re taking inventory, and recounting damage around the room, sitting at your dining table alone (wearing regular clothes instead of being naked) with a depressing glass of water. 
mina left you again, and this time it feels like it would be for real. 
no traces, no note, no lead of where she might have gone–it was simply back to square one, just like before back at the hospital. this was a losing battle, and it was only a matter of time before the chief and detective park put themselves into the mix of finally capturing mina. the clock was dwindling, and you still haven’t found a viable solution to save her. 
desperate times call for desperate measures. 
a snap of your fingers brings five spellbooks this time, each one of the opening to a page that had a multitude of spells and tricks that you can use to combat against mina sharon. you’ve been played, got karma for putting a vampire in chains. not to mention, you’ve had a throbbing headache since you woke up after—
you slam the table out in anger, the sound of a small hiss leaving your lips. pissed off and frustrated (mentally and sexually) you storm out to the window overlooking the city while your mind is tirelessly thinking about how to end this once and for all. there was one more ace in your deck of cards, the last resort that you didn’t think you’d have to use—but there’s no other choice. 
behind your tv was a safe that kept a very old crusty spellbook that wasn’t meant to leave outside kamar taj, but you kept it as a souvenir after your bout with dormammu. turning to a specific page, you recall suggesting the exorcism spell that wong was very much against, resulting at the cost of one’s life, something that you were willing to do if it meant to save the city once more. 
you’re staring at the hand signs to commence the spell, determined to use this if needed when your phone vibrates on the coffee table, seeing the message on your lockscreen that speeds up the whole process of everything that’s happened. 
nay: 
the lab’s been raided
mr. myoui was panicking around the courtyard 
then he went missing 
y/n: 
where is he now? 
nay: 
the abandoned cathedral 
this might be for real 
put on your best suit. 
from that last text, you stare at the ripped page that carried the exorcism spell. this was it, now or never—a final confrontation between the father and daughter, the ninth symphony. you’re jumping out of the window with your cloak of levitation following right behind you. 
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you eventually make it to the old abandoned cathedral, sneaking up to the bell tower that fed into the upper atrium towards the back. quietly sneaking through a walkway on the side, listening to the growing exchange of voices below once you got closer. 
“mina, i know you’re angry, but you have to understand–”
“you could never understand! what you put us through, the false picture you’ve painted us as, the way you’re not taking responsibility!” 
“this won’t bring your brother back.” 
“this was never about him!” 
you get to a vantage point that views the altar below. mr. myoui on the steps while mina is right in front of him, inching closer and closer to him. the cue to intervene was about to happen, but you’re waiting for the right time to step in. 
mr. myoui tries to get up but mina forces him back down with a gust of wind. “i did what was best for you, i swear! it was for the sake of your own well being!” 
“i didn’t ask for these powers in the first place!” mina exclaimed, “you and your stupid obsession to live longer has grown far too old, it’s a dumb fantasy.” 
“and yet look at you, a reincarnation of our family vision for so many years. you’re the perfect rendition of so many attempts!” 
mina’s eyes glow red again, but this time it appears she got it under control. 
“for irene, dahyun, miyeon, all of them throughout our history, and i’m the last one?” 
mr. myoui laughed, like this was everything that went against what you initially thought of the man. “you want to get rid of your powers? it’s impossible, the machine that caused the whole accident has been destroyed a long time ago.”
“then i’ll just have to kill you then.” mina says in a monotone voice, lunging forward that makes mr. myoui cover up in fear. 
that’s your cue. 
in a swift motion, you make your entrance from above, landing right in the middle of mr. myoui and mina, putting your arms out to ease the tension of the situation between the two of them, not wanting to end this in a fight. 
“y/n?” mina asks, bewildered. 
“this isn’t the way to do things, i’ve said this before multiple times.” you say, keeping your gaze locked on mina before switching over to mr. myoui, acknowledging him with a simple nod. in perfect timing, wong enters the cathedral from above, just right behind mina with his hands bearing orange protective circles. 
“sure took your time to get here wong.” 
“i know you took the forbidden book, but we can save that for later.” he barks, making you smirk at the small exchange. 
things eventually escalated to worse, when the police started to barge in from all four corners of the cathedral, closing in to the center of the church, guns primed and ready, men and women clamoring the four of you to get down on the ground mixed with hands in the air. (it’s never one because of the other, god the police force is confusing sometimes) 
you’re yelling at the top of your lungs, trying to get your message across to the police, did they really think it would be a good idea to shoot at a literal superhero who saved the universe? wong is also doing the same thing, stepping closer behind mina who has her hands up like mr. myoui. too many things happening in this chaotic, better yet—who the hell tipped off the police?!
“alright everyone, settle down!” you hear the voice of the chief coming in on the loudspeaker, jihyo’s gun is also trained to you four. “we don’t have to get all antsy with this, we just want to talk.” he says, “mr. myoui, are you willing to comply with the police if you turn yourself in?” 
“you’re batshit crazy if i’m going to do that!” he yells, forcing you to look at him as he did. you feel a small sense–a tingle of sorts–formulating in the back of your mind. sound deafens out from your eardrums, and your vision starts to get cloudy, but you’re brought back when mr. myoui is calling out to you to reason with the chief. “tell them y/n! i’m the innocent one here!” 
“i think we can all solve this without anyone getting hurt.” you say, reassuring the crowd with your hands, spinning around to see that you had no intention to harm or retaliate. “nobody has to die tonight.” 
as soon as you say that, the dimmed lights flicker on then off, making you and everyone look up at the sudden change, but the sense comes back again, this time it’s more stronger–like you’re being controlled.
“well,” mina’s voice catches your ears, turning towards her as she stands idly, arms lowering, “just one person though, if that’s okay with you…” 
her eyes glowed red again, tilting her head as if she were commanding you while your eyes roll to the back of your head.
a flurry of black flashes flow in instant seconds. 
one moment you were standing, the next moment you were kneeled over mr. myoui who was on the floor. 
clutching his neck that was gnawed at, blood spewing out uncontrollably, gasping for air. you don’t register it for a second, but then you see the bite mark, and the small stains of blood across your palm, fangs in your teeth shown in the reflected pool surrounding him. you don’t remember doing that, at all. 
mina made you do that. 
while your natural instinct was to protect the person you once saved, your look then shifts over to mina who’s weaving around the policemen, bodies flying everywhere and bullets are in the space. wong is also chasing after mina, keeping the police force at bay while trying to get you back to your senses, yelling repeatedly amidst the chaos that reaches you. 
“fuck,” you mutter out, darting to catch mina from her blind spot, she senses this and changes her direction last second, causing you to crash into two police men, slicing the barrels from their guns to stop them from shooting. mina then grabs you from behind, tossing you like she did on the bed, this time to a stone pillar, holding you by the shoulders as she growled out when you try to shake her off. 
“mina, stop this!” you yell, pushing her face away before another policeman tries to fire at her, you’re dodging the bullets while moving your hands to make a spell, placing it on the ground that erupts tree roots that canvas the open area around the altar. 
the room shakes again as you see mina float up for a few seconds, a blue amber surrounds her, before pounding into the ground that makes everyone catch some air. you’re not fazed by this as your cloak of levitation keeps you from touching the ground, and you form an orange whip that catches mina’s hand, pulling her up before landing a solid hit to her midsection that sends her crashing to the centerpiece table. 
you’d worry about if you hurt her or not, but the cathedral starts to shake again, the fragile structure now crumbling around the group that shifts this final battle into save and survey. you see a number of policemen and women make a break to the outside exits, a hint of jihyo’s hair making a break for the exit as well, helping her comrades while the chief is scouring through the rubble for something, or someone.
“chief! it’s too dangerous here, you gotta get out!” 
“i’m not leaving without akira!” 
he wasn’t the priority, not now. you sprint to the broken table, seeing that mina was still down on the ground, shaking her up to wake, “mina, mina wake up!” she eventually comes to, and a small sense of relief leaves your lips. 
mina’s head is still ringing from the fall, and her eyes eventually fixate on you. getting her up from the rubble, the place is still shaking, a part of the roof had already caved in towards the back, and it was going to be that way if you and her don’t leave now. 
“can you move?” you ask her, to which she nods, she was back to her normal self. that was one thing off the checklist, now for—
a gunshot is sounded off behind you. 
you look at mina, and then you look down to see a stain of blood underneath her shirt. she falls into your arms while you turn around to see that it was mr. myoui who fired the shot, clutching his neck while doing so before an overarching piece of the building falls on top of him, solidifying his permanent demise. 
mina clutches your cheek, she’s gasping for air while you’re denying the sad expression that’s breaking through your face right now. “hey hey hey, stay with me, please.” you plead, pressing down on the wound in her stomach, making her wince at the sharp pain, forcing your hand off. “i gotta do this to stop the bleeding mina, you’re not dying on me.” 
her breath becomes shallow, and more of the broken stones start to fall around you, leaving you trapped in the small area. wong is able to spot you, fireman carrying a wounded policeman, ducking his head from the tumbling structure. “l/n! we have to go now!” he yells at you, noticing you holding mina’s limp body.
“don’t worry about me! get out of here!” you instruct wong, as he nods, making a break for the last opening before it’s closed off by the collapsing pillar. mina’s hand clutches to the back of your neck, forcing your look on her again, but it’s not her that’s doing it but—
“when one life dies, the other lives.” sharon hisses out, the other persona rightfully taking control of the body while she laughs at your ‘losing’ face. 
you simply close your eyes at the realization of what you have to do now. 
mouthing the activation words for the exorcism spell, you lay your palm flat on her chest as it glowed purple–the indication for dark magic–as a circle forms beneath you two. sharon’s evil laugh is all you’re hearing as the warbling of the spell continues to get louder, overpowering her voice. the energy coursing through your veins while the circle gets bigger around you, the stones closing in. 
a white light glows from your palm flat on sharon’s chest, before lifting both hands like an offering to the gods above, sharon feels a weird sensation in her body–like the life force was being sucked out of her body away from mina, and that’s the case really. 
“no! no no no, what are you doing? stop this! stop this now!” she demands, the restraints you put on her while the main spell was working doing it’s work once again, nullifying her movement and while the warped sound gets louder and louder.
you let out a controlled breath before placing your hands on her chest again, eyes opening glowing stark white before you're shielding her from the falling debris over your head with your hand, the building caving in on top of you.
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mina’s body jolts in her sleep, eyes fluttering open and focusing around the dim dark room. the regalness of the bed and the history around it indicating that it was your room in the sanctum sanctorum. 
she shifts around the covers, noticing the empty space behind her, door ajar leading to the hallway. she tries to remember what had happened before she ended up here, but can’t. was it a bad dream? everything that’s happened up till this point even real? she can’t put a finger on it to recall, and her body feels sore still, almost gingerly. 
laying on her side, she closes her eyes from looking at the draped curtains that cover the bright, cloudy morning of the city. her ears pick up the sound of soft footsteps coming from the hall and into the door. you’re walking in with a small tray of herbal teas that looked like they could be hundreds of years old from the scent to the appearance of the cups as you place it on the nightstand. 
“mina.” you call out her name softly, and her eyes blink open to the sight of you standing on the edge of the bed, grumbling into the sheets while she shifts around to get her brain to stay awake now. you sit right next to her, hand on her slightly exposed shoulder peeking out before leaning down to leave a few kisses across her cheek. 
mina then sits up slightly, elbows propped up on the pillow. she’s staring at your loosely fitted oversized shirt that shows the pucker-shaped bruises shadowing across your throat from the night prior. she attempts to move while you’re stopping her from doing any more actions, “not too much moving now.” you say, hand on her chest to keep at bay. “how are you feeling?” 
“i don’t know,” she responds, “i can’t seem to remember much from what happened. it’s like the whole memory is gone to me.” 
“well, the only thing that matters is that you’re fine now, and safe.” you say, slotting yourself under the sheets and tangling your limbs with mina before finally getting comfortable in the bed with your arms around her. 
mina wants to protest, something doesn’t feel right about this. there’s no place she’d rather be than in your arms, doing exactly what you set out to do; save her. the freedom from her family is so liberating even if she’s slumbering off in your chest by the minute.
you’re moving a part of hair past her ear, looking down at mina while she subconsciously pouts her lips for you to kiss, the exchange of inhales and feeling of her hot mouth intoxicating you the more you two lazily fight for dominance, still tired from last night’s exploration of each other’s bodies. 
she mumbles something against your mouth, pulling away while you’re grazing your thumb across her cheek and jaw, planting another kiss before backing off to take in the details of her sleeping face. her soft breathing and the subtle rise and fall of her chest flush with yours makes you drink in the sight a little more than usual compared to previous occasions. 
hand propped on your head, your eyes lower down from her cheekbone to her jaw, then to her slender neck—where there was a noticeable bite mark highlighted for you to see.
you simply smile at the work you’ve done, eyes hinted with a glowing red beneath your irises before fading out back to your original eye color. feeling the fangs in your upper row with your tongue before they retract back to your normal set of teeth.
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