2hiigh2cry

[2hiigh2cry]

Realistically, this list is probably only going to be for the longfic I'm writing. I might consider taking requests when it's finished, but I'm not currently as obsessed with Z Nation as I was when I started writing it.

Requests for 10k are closed at this time.

10k

Firestarter (Ongoing) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Dividers made by @saradika-graphics Banner made by me on Canva :)

[2hiigh2cry]

oh my god

R.I.P 2 MY YOUTH PART 1

R.I.P 2 MY YOUTH PART 1

10k x reader

warnings: angst

word count: 2.5k

description: i was mostly inspired by the bridge of this song for this oneshot. anyways basically the reader is murphy’s niece who they had found along the way in season one. reader fell into a one sided love with 10k and he never looked her way ever, not until now (takes place in the beginning of season 3).

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ 　　.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

None of them had expected to find somebody related to their least favorite member of the group, and they hadn’t. In fact, you had found them thanks to Citizen Z who had willingly led you to them knowing you were very much still alive. That was one thing, but the thing they had least expected was you as a person. You were absolutely nothing like Murphy, not even in the slightest way. Your personalities, mannerisms, and even looks were different in every way possible. Even so, there was no doubt that you two were related- not with the way Murphy treated you.

The strange hybrid had a soft spot for you, he always had since you were born. His older sister had you when he was about twenty-five and from the moment he saw you in the hospital room, he just knew you were a little bottle of sunshine. Although he was always grumpy and acted tough, the man would take you out for ice cream and buy you gifts. Even when he entered prison for postal fraud, you visited him with your mother at every chance you could. The last time he saw you was when you were thirteen. Not knowing whether or not you were still alive was something that often kept him up at night, more than most things did at least.

So when you met again and you joined their mission, it was only normal that the man would be overprotective of you in every and all situations, including those of first loves…. Needless to say, Murphy, just like the rest of the group, had seen it coming.

You and 10k were around the same age and had both been exposed to the cruelty of the world far too young compared to the rest of the members. You were a pretty girl, and he was a handsome young man- both strong and kind, always up for helping others at any cost. You would never forget the smile he gave you the day you met, and the way your heart sped. It was inevitable…. for you.

Tommy had not felt the same way. Sure, he loved you in more ways than one, but he was not in love with you. You made his heart race, sometimes, just like other girls did. You were beautiful, but so were other girls. He felt protective over you, just like he felt with the rest of his teammates. There was nothing different, or so he had thought.

You knew this. How could you not notice the lingering stares he gave Cassandra as she looked out the car window. Or when he gave the first prize rifle from the shooting contest to Brittany, a pretty girl he had only briefly met. Even Red, a random girl dressed in all red that mingled with Tommy quite well. Really, how he seemed to accept and return any attention given to him by any female near his age.

Taking all of this into consideration, you shouldn’t have been hurt when the blue-eyed beauty painfully rejected your feelings for him. But you were.

“Y/N,” he whispered, clearly distraught by your sudden confession. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it coming, Doc had noted it to him long ago. “I… I don’t think right now is the right time.”

“You mean… For me, right?”

You looked over to Cassandra, who was sleeping on the floor on a blanket they had found along the way. Even sleeping, without having showered in quite some time, and stained with blood- she was pretty. Prettier than you, you had thought.

Before the clearly conflicted boy could answer, you shook your head- your beady eyes becoming even shinier in the pale moonlight. You gulped.

“It’s whatever, please just forget it,” you told 10k, giving him a reassuring smile that probably wouldn’t have fooled anybody but him. Maybe it didn’t even fool him, but he took it anyways.

A part of you had wished that he wouldn’t forget it and maybe feel awkward around you, so that you would know that your feelings sincerely reached him, but he didn’t. In fact, he acted so casually- it began to hurt. You knew that you should’ve stopped feeling for him and given up then and there, and you did… for a while. For a while you thought about nothing but taking out your feelings by killing zombies and completing the tasks needed for the mission, but as you buried your feelings deeper- they only grew by tenfold.

When Cassandra died and came back as a strange hybrid thanks to your uncle, having to see 10k suffer because of her only made things worse. The pain only grew and he began to distance himself from everyone around him. Even through this, you remained by his side. You left your uncle to follow him, and you pushed through the agony. The little moments you shared with him- chatting underneath the stars in the back of the pick up truck and him teaching you how to fish.

After she actually died, at his hands, you helped him heal as much as you could and he let you. You and Tommy were practically attached at the hip, even when you slept- he would stay beside you and take watch. Perhaps it was because he had already lost so many people, if he lost you- he probably wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Needless to say, Murphy was not happy about any of it. He had never liked 10k in the first place, even less when he killed Cassandra, but the fact that you were helplessly in love with him and would defy your own uncle for a boy… It was infuriating, to say the least. Deep down he knew that 10k was a good person, much better than anybody else out there, but even so he couldn’t accept it. Not even when you were on the floor crying for him as he got shot thanks to a team of bounty hunters who were after the one and only blue hybrid man.

“10k,” you croaked out, tears daring to escape your beautiful e/c eyes that seemed even more majestic to him as everything was a bit hazy. “They’re going to take you to the submarine where there will be doctors, uncle Murphy will be there too- don’t worry.”

Despite having been shot, your words were as clear as daylight to him, after all, Tommy had always focused in on your voice.

“But- but what about you, Y/N?”

You shook your head, sniffling lightly in worry for the boy who you loved so much. The sight before him now reminded him of the day he rejected you… He regretted it. Now having to go alone with only Murphy made him realize how weak he was without you and how hard it would be. He had taken you for granted.

“No,” 10k refused, trying to get up, ignoring the agonizing pain coming from his abdomen. “I’m not going without you, Y/N.”

“Shhhh you’re right when you come back when you’re all healed up you will not be going anywhere without me, but for now you have to go okay? When you get back you can tell us all about it. I’ll be waiting for you, all of us will.”

The other members nodded in agreement and gave the ravenette encouraging smiles that told him to go on. Hesitantly, he nodded back and let you help him up.

“I’ll be back,” the boy affirmed, staring deep into your orbs. “I promise.”

You smiled, giving him a friendly kiss on the temple before handing him off to the guards and turning to your uncle who was awaiting your goodbye.

Believing you probably weren’t going to be seeing him for a very long time (if ever), you gave him a tight hug, the tears finally escaping your eyes as you hugged goodbye your only living family member.

“Please be safe, uncle Murphy,” you told him, hugging him even tighter. “And… Please keep him safe. Keep 10k safe, for me, please.”

The blue man hugged you back, almost tearing up as well. He had always been attached to you, but the apocalypse somehow managed to tighten your relationship even more than ever before.

“Don’t worry, kid. Lover boy will be fine.”

The two of you pulled away, both wiping away the tears that had unwillingly fallen.

“Stay out of trouble, uncle Murphy.”

“Never.”

And that was the last time you had seen either of the men you loved. Even after the submarine had sunk, apparently your uncle had come back for you and the others when you were out using the bathroom at a somewhat inconvenient time. According to Roberta and the others, 10k was not with the blue man. When they told you that, your whole body froze. There was no way 10k could’ve died- there was no way Murphy would let that happen, now when he knew how much his niece adored him. It was pretty much impossible, but it made no sense. If he was alive, where was he? And why hadn’t he come back to her as promised?

You decided not to follow after your Uncle. If it was true that the boy you were in love with was dead because of your uncle, you couldn’t bear the thought of being with him. You were much better off with Roberta and Addy- who both knew the feeling of losing the men they loved. And Doc, who cared for 10k almost as much as you did.

You had hope that Murphy would give up there, but he didn’t. No, in fact, he returned for you.

“My dear niece, Y/N,” he called out, coming out of nowhere with his arms wide open.

You hugged him, obviously excited to see your only relative, but also eager to hear from him what really happened to 10k. There was no way he was dead.

Once you pulled away, you gave him a ear-to-ear grin— finally asking the question you had on your mind.

“So where’s 10k?”

Murphy stopped smiling.

“He’s fine, honey. Just come with me and I’ll explain everything. We will build a new world with doctor merch and you and him can live happily ever after! It will be great,” he explained, pulling you along as he walked God knows where.

“W-wait what?” You stuttered, your eyes widened at his strange words. “I… Heard somebody with very precise aim shot at Warren’s feet. Was it 10k?”

Murphy was silenced by your question, not knowing what to say next. He could lie to anyone, anyone but you. He had done enough of that to his whole family and it ruined his life before the apocalypse had even started. The only relationship he managed to salvage were those of his sister and mother. Now… What would happen?

The relationship’s demise was coming soon, either way. If he lied, there was no point— she would find out soon enough and it would be even worse.

“Yes…. and no.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, subconsciously backing up as this confirmation of the information you had obtained processed.

The blue hybrid knew he wouldn’t have to explain. You were a bright girl, it wasn’t long before the realization seeped into your features— later coming the denial.

“No,” you denied, shaking your head furiously. “You didn’t.”

“Sunshine, I had no other choice.”

You shook your head even more, tears slipping out of your pained orbs.

“Tell me you didn’t bite him. Murphy, tell me you didn’t.”

He didn’t say anything.

You pushed forward hitting him on the chest as hard as you could, punch after punch as you cried— angrily shaking your head.

“You didn’t!”

Your cries became even louder, and your punches even stronger— actually beginning to hurt the blue man.

“Y/N that’s enough.”

“No, no, no, no!”

You pushed him to the ground, getting on top of him and continuing to punch his chest in utter and pure resentment.

“You did not bite 10k!”

“I had no choice.”

His words seemed to set something off deep inside you that only made you even angrier, giving you more strength to actually seriously injure him— and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. He was worried for himself.

“You has no choice?! That’s bullshit! Utter bullshit! You may be able to miraculously fool everybody else with your pathetic excuses but not me Uncle Murphy!” You shook your head. “Not when I’ve been hearing them my whole life!”

Oh boy. That was not the correct choice of words. They stabbed him far further than any injection ever had and they reached something nothing else ever had— his heart. He did not like that. Without even thinking about it, he internally called for help— summoning just the person you were arguing over. Except… it wasn’t him. Not really.

Tackling you to your side, 10k held a knife to your neck— pinning you down so you would be unable to hurt your uncle, his master, any more.

You looked up at him. It wasn’t him. You knew that. You knew that there was no way in hell that the 10k you loved and knew would ever hold a weapon up to you, not even in a life or death situation. Even before his emotionless icy blue eyes you could sense the struggle between his will and newfound impulsive nature that only told him to serve Murphy. And even though it hurt you, you knew that deep down it was hurting him by tenfold. To know that he had become exactly what he had seen in Cassandra, you were sure that the disgust and needless guilt would submerge him fully under soon enough.

“10k, it’s okay,” you told him, smiling despite your shaking body. Anybody would be a fool not fear him, even more so now that he was under a certain cynical blue man’s control.

“It’s okay. If you hurt me it’s okay, I’ll let you. I’ll forgive you no matter what.”

Even in the state of mind he was in, frenetic with the side effects of Murphy’s bite, your words reached the back of his head where his thoughts were only as loud as a whisper— and his heart swelled at your gentle words. Even though it had only been a few days since he last saw you, you seemed so much more beautiful than before. Your voice seemed sweeter and your eyes, deeper. He wondered if you had always looked that way and he was just a blind idiot. More notably, he wondered if anybody else had seen you the way he was seeing you. The thought of it made him uncomfortable, and even a bit upset.

Before he had the time to think next about what you were doing, you somehow managed to flip him over and get on top of him, now hovering over him— letting any tears that were left drip onto his abnormally pale face.

“Y/N?” His voice croaked out, looking up at you— torn.

“I’ll come back for you, I promise.”

Before he could say anything more or think about the words you had spoken, you jumped off of him and went running back to where Warren and the others were waiting for you. You didn’t say anything to them, you couldn’t. You were still in shock.

There were a lot of questions you needed answers to, and you were not going to settle until all of them were answered.

[2hiigh2cry]

"Puppy Love" Masterlist

~updates every friday cst~

Chapter One: Philly Feast OR Cannibals and New Companions

Chapter Two: Full Metal Zombie OR Knowing Me, Knowing You

Chapter Three: Home Sweet Zombie OR Tornado Alley

Chapter Four: Resurrection Z OR Peaches and Pornos

Chapter Five: Anything but Normal Day OR There’s No Place like Home

Chapter Six: Citizen Z’s New Best Friend OR The Erection Situation

Chapter Seven: Going Nuclear OR Shoot and Miss

Chapter Eight: Sisters of Mercy OR Litte Women

Chapter Nine: Murphy’s Law OR Missing Friends

Chapter Ten: Doctor of the Dead OR Losing Family

Chapter Eleven: The Murphy OR Start Over Again

[2hiigh2cry]

─𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

- updated 30th April NZT

welcome to my little corner of the internet where I spiral daily over my current obsession: the slytherin boys™ specifically? tom riddle. And just to be very clear: this is the fictional son of voldemort, not the noseless menace himself. Will update when i can ....

━━━HUSBAND!TOM RIDDLE MASTERLIST ⭑ my masterlist of fics dedicated entirely to husband!tom riddle because that’s my favorite genre of him and I have no shame...

━━━RIDDLE FAMILY MASTERLIST ⭑ my masterlist full of fics about the adorably chaotic riddle family featuring: Tom riddle, Y/N, and their equally dramatic children Mattheo, Delphini, Marvolo and the twins..

━━━TOXIC!TOM MASTERLIST ⭑ my masterlist full of toxic!tom riddle fics where love is obsession, control is affection, and red flags are practically a uniform. Enter at your own risk. You’ve been warned

━━━SERIES MASTERLIST ⭑ my masterlist of tom riddle series fics: long plots, slow burns, dark twists, and all the morally gray chaos your heart could want 🖤

━━━ONE SHOTS: FRIENDS/BEFORE RELATIONSHIP

A Cold Comfort

A Father's Ultimatum

A Gift for the Dark Lord

A Lover's Determination

Against the Storm

Between Night and Day

Cutting Through the Nonsense

Destined for More

Goodnight, My Love

Feelings are Complex

Forgotten Bond

For you, Always

Games we play

Heart Break of Sorrows

Impossible Challenges

His Arms Again

Leave it On

Loyalty Has Limits

No Take-Backs, Riddle

Not Invincible

Reserved Defences

Spellbound

Ties that Bind

The First Look

The Inevitable Future

The One He Always Chose

The Quiet Observer

The Quiet Offer

The Stare That Speaks

The Unspoken Challenge

You're Not Weird

Whispers Beneath the stars ⭑ Part Two

━━━BOYFRIEND!TOM:

Anything For you

Alphabetically Yours

A Place to Breathe

A Step Away from Trouble

A Nickname Reserved

A Rare Smile

A Wink and A Smile

Behind the Smirk

Beneath His Cold Embrace

Braided Nights

Chilled Hearts

Claiming His Space

Claimed Attention

Cold-Hearted, except for you

Dark Looks Good on me

Defiant Love

Drunk on Love

Even Magic Needs Rest

External Comfort

Fading Shadows

Guardian in the Night

Heartbeat Serenade

His Secret Symphony

I'm your boyfriend

In the Silence of Us

In every chapter, a piece of you

Not a Princess, My Queen

No Take-Backs Riddle

Possesive Gentleman

Protecting What's His

She Touched IT, He Brought it

Seven Days

Silent Comfort

Silent Gestures

Steps Between Classes

Ticking all the boxes

Tighter Than a Spell

The Distraction He Needs

The Heir's Wrath

The Hunt of the Heart

The Language of Love

The Pillow Arguement

The Nickname Arrangement

The Only One

The One Thing He'll Bow For

The Reluctant Professor

The Words We Choose

Tender Moments

Under His Skin

Unexpected Shopping Trip

Ungrateful Whinge

Unspoken Surrender

Veiled Ambitions

Watcher of her dreams

World Within a Whisper

━━━DARK FICS MASTERLIST - sorry had to create a seperate masterlist with fics of Dark!Tom - coming soon

━━━SERIES:

World Burn Series: Y/n and her twin sister were raised in London, hidden in the muggle world because of you know who terrorising the wizarding world. Y/n soon discovers with his son that there was more reason for her being hidden.

Ball Night Series: Your new defence of the dark arts professor hooked up once and it all takes a dark turn.

Looking Glass Series - Y/N and Tom Riddle's children discover a hidden portal within Hogwarts that allows them to witness their parents' love story unfold. It all begins when Marvolo, the youngest, stumbles upon the portal just weeks into his first year. Intrigued, he brings his older siblings, Delphini and Mattheo, along for the adventure.

[2hiigh2cry]

"You Call This a Game?"

Draco x reader, no gender mention be whoever/however you want, I'm just want to wrecked Draco sorry. He was being a little bish. Biting, kissing, little bl00dy. A bit of chasing, running. Using sl√r from HP (Draco use Mudbl00d). No specific House. Masterlist and ao3 Part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven part eight

Draco and his little entourage had a habit of messing with you, like it was their full-time job. And sure, you'd been through worse in previous school years. This wasn’t even top ten on your “hellish experience” list. But there was something about Draco Malfoy that made it stick. Maybe it was the smug expression he wore like a second skin, or that arrogant grin he flaunted every time he humiliated you in front of his goons.

He’d bump into you in the middle of the hall, "accidentally" of course. They’d surround you, laughing like you were part of a comedy act no one else got. He tripped you once, let you fall flat on the cold floor like a prop in a childish prank.

But you weren’t new to childish games.

And Draco? Oh, he seemed to thrive on them. His minions, friends, housemates, whatever they liked to call themselves followed along like brainless shadows. Most days you ignored them. Sometimes, you even pretended to be scared just so they’d lose interest faster. But mostly? You just hid. In the hallways, behind corners, dodging their line of sight like it was an Olympic sport.

In class, though... different story.

Because the more you saw that smug face of his, the more you wanted to wipe it clean. Not just slap him - ruin him. Make him bruised and breathless. Every laugh he shared with his lackeys, every taunt he threw your way just made your blood boil. You imagined pinning him against the wall, not to hurt him, but to shut him up. With a kiss. A hard, brutal kiss that would shut that filthy mouth for good.

How could someone so vile have lips that looked that soft?

Sometimes you pictured him on his knees, that cocky grin wiped away, crawling back to you for approval like a dog begging for scraps.

You knew he wasn’t a puppy. He bit, hard enough to draw blood. And part of you wanted to tear those fangs out one by one. But even if he did bite you, so what?

You’d probably like it.

Of course, he had no idea you had these thoughts. And you weren’t that sick. At least you hoped not. That’s why you avoided him, not out of fear, but because you were scared of yourself. Scared you might snap and do something... feral. Like bite him first.

Then came the worst day of your week. Maybe of the semester. You were dragging yourself down the hallway, brain fogged from too many failed assignments and too little sleep. You’d have to retake a class, someone stole your damn shoes, and your mood was hanging by a thread.

You were halfway through plotting petty revenge, rats in someone’s soup when it happened.

You slammed straight into someone.

The scent hit you first, his cologne. Familiar. Maddening. It invaded your lungs before your brain even registered who it was.

That golden hair shimmered like snow beneath sunlight.

“The rat finally crawled out of its stinking hole,” he drawled, the venom in his voice as slick as ever.

Your heart kicked up a notch as your eyes locked with his. Cold, silver. Unforgiving. That smirk curled on his lips, the one that haunted even your dreams.

“I’m sorry, excuse me,” you muttered, trying to step around him. But of course, he blocked your path.

His frame loomed tall and arrogant, radiating entitlement and a cruel sense of amusement.

“In such a hurry? What, gotta find another hole to hide in?”

Next hole I’m hiding in is your mo-

You breathed. In. Out. Not today.

You threw him a glare, sharp and practiced, then shrank in on yourself, played your role. Make yourself small. Just like he liked it.

“Lost your tongue?”

You lowered your head, shielding your expression, and shoved past him. But before you could get far, he caught your coat sleeve and yanked you back.

Fuck.

He slammed you into the wall with that ever-present mocking smile stretched across his mouth. You sometimes wondered what exactly about this sadistic game made him so damn thrilled. Cat and mouse. You were just the chew toy. Did all his victims survive this long?

“Let go of me.”

“I’m not even using strength. You’re just weak.”

You kicked his shin, breaking the moment. Bolted. Yanked your hood up, he’d grabbed you by it once before. You weren't making that mistake again. But today the hall was weirdly empty. No students, no teachers, just the echo of your own panicked footsteps.

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

And then you spotted one of his friends ahead. Another jackass you really didn’t want to deal with.

You ducked into a corner, waited until the coast was clear, then stepped back out.

Then someone slammed your face into the wall, hard. Platinum blond hair. Like fallen stars. But those eyes... ice and stone. No warmth. No soul.

“Let go-”

“Shut your mouth” he snapped, breath cold, fingers colder as they slid snake-like along your neck. You shivered, every nerve on edge.

“What are you learning today, filthy little Mudblood?”

You glared sideways, then snapped. Sank your teeth into his hand as hard as you can. His blood welled instantly. Visible teeth marks.

“My blood still ain’t as filthy as your fucking mouth.”

“You bitch-”

Before he could finish, you grabbed the line of buttons just under his collar and slammed him against the wall. Once. Twice. The sharp thud echoed through the corridor. His eyes swam for a second with stunned surprise.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy,” you hissed, “does torturing me make you feel better about your sad little life? Are you jealous of a Mudblood like me? Or do you just like us too much to stay away?”

You looked up at him. He still wore that same infuriating grin, even as his breathing quickened and color rose to his neck. He bared his teeth like a rabid dog and leaned forward like he might bite but you held him firm.

“Or maybe,” he chuckled darkly, “I just don’t want you lot to live in peace. Maybe I want you to suffer. Every. Single. Day.”

Bitch, we been suffering. Long before he and his goons made it their business.

Your life was chaos long before Draco Malfoy. He didn’t invent your pain, he just made it worse. And those pretty lips of his, spitting poison like it was poetry, infuriated you.

Something snapped.

Your pulse throbbed. You leaned in. Let your tongue slide across his lips slowly.

He flinched.

Then your mouth crashed against his like a storm, wild and hungry. You devoured him, tongue forcing its way past his lips, claiming everything inside. His breath stuttered into your mouth, desperate and uneven. When he finally moved, he tried to respond - either return the kiss or bite but you pulled back just in time and sank your teeth into his lower lip.

Again. And again.

Until it bled.

Hair a mess. Clothes tugged askew. Blood on his lip. Red streaking his eyes. Chest rising and falling beneath his now half-unbuttoned shirt, glowing under the flickering corridor light.

Your creation. Your masterpiece.

Or maybe he just looked like a bitch. Either way, you were satisfied.

You kissed him again, slower this time but he flinched. That lip had to be throbbing now.

He said nothing. No quip. No laughter. Just clenched teeth and wide eyes, like a dog who could no longer bark or bite.

You smirked.

Then spit in his face.

Didn’t look back. Just wiped his blood from your lips with your sleeve and walked back to your dorm like you did every day.

Like nothing had happened.

Like you hadn’t just broken Draco Malfoy in the middle of an empty hallway.

- maybe continue -

[2hiigh2cry]

Draco Malfoy [Rottenherbs masterlist ₊⊹]

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─ [HP masterlist] ─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A Promise Worth Keeping (꩜ At the final quidditch match of the season, you take a serious blow enshrining a win for Slytherin; but a certain blonde haired seeker makes sure to check on you in the infirmary // 1.7k // Fluff! Mention of Injury and blood) Seating Arrangement (pt.2) (𖦹 Late to potions and the only seat left was next to Malfoy. Were you able to keep up with the Slytherin prince or will this ruin any chances of a good first impression? // 1.2k ) Overprotective ( ꩜ toxic! Draco getting jealous over his Ravenclaw! reader girlfriend // 595 // Possessiveness, Public altercation) Trouble In The Library (𖦹 You liked helping your friends with their class work, but Draco saw it differently // 1.3k // Fluff, Slight Angst, Crying) Swapping Secrets and Spit (NSFW) (꩜ You and Draco were notorious for meeting up for only moments to exchange information. You helped to let him know what Harry was up to, and he let you know exactly how to get an Outstanding on your potions exam. But would your feelings end up pushing him away or starting something exciting? // 2.9k // Sexual Content, Cock Teasing, Oral stimulation (f/m), Face Fucking) “I will get him to smile again” (pt.2) (𖦹 Draco isn’t looking too good. He’s been withdrawn for a while with his fight and continuous secrets he will have to keep in the upcoming year. You make it your personal mission to bring back his smile// 824 // Pining, flirting) The Muggle Way (꩜ muggleborn!fem!reader and Draco moving in together in their established relationship // 658 // Fluff ) Rest ( 𖦹 Sleepy Draco falling asleep on reader // 685 // Fluff, sweet intimacy) The Hound (꩜ fem!reader heading to bed after a shower, and she sees Draco on their bed moving his Patronus around the room // 1k // fluff) Christmas with Muggles (𖦹 Draco being girlfriend!reader’s date to her work’s Christmas party that is full of muggles // 2k // Muggle! adult life, Fluff) NYE Headcanon (꩜ HP golden era new years eve headcanons with reader) A Couple Firsts (𖦹 “You just need a strong lead” // 1.5k // Yule Ball!) Secret Relationship! HC (꩜ Headcanons having a secret relationship with Draco) Secrets of Prefects (𖦹 You and Draco share a secret, passionate relationship while pretending to hate each other in public. As your connection deepens, you both struggle with the tension between your forbidden desire the consequences of keeping your affair hidden // 2.3k // Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers, Secret Affair, Making out, Pining) Clouded Sunrays (꩜ draco x hufflepuff!reader // grumpy x sunshine // 2k Dreamweaver (𖦹 Draco Malfoy begins dreaming of a girl he’s never seen before. At first, it’s fleeting. Then it becomes constant. He’s never spoken to her in real life—or seen her for that matter — he’s sure of it. So why does she feel more real than anything else? // 3.2k // Time Split, Slowburn, Angst)

Love on the Silver Screen (pt.2) (pt.3) (꩜ Draco Malfoy x Actress! Reader // After the war, Draco Malfoy secretly falls for a Muggle actress whose films become his only escape from the hollow life he’s trapped in. When he’s forced to attend a wizarding convention, he’s stunned to discover that you’re not only real but a witch, throwing his carefully built walls into chaos. // 1.8k

[2hiigh2cry]

i mean shit anything at this point

[2hiigh2cry]

My Journey to Escape the War in Gaza

My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.

The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.

I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.

Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.

I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.

Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.

Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.

Vetted by @gazavetters

[2hiigh2cry]

🆂🆃🅰🆁🆅🅰🆃🅸🅾🅽 ⚰

From the heart of unimaginable suffering, I want to sincerely thank everyone who has supported my family 🙏🏻

Right now, famine is hitting us harder than ever, my heart cries whenever I go to the market to buy any basic necessities! The prices are crazy, and most days my children survive on just bread Hunger and thirst are destroying us, and cooking on fire increases our suffering unbearably! Severe eye and chest sensitivity, in addition to constant stomach pain due to the type of food and the way it is cooked.

All this while we flee from one place to another in fear of bombing, bullets, and imminent danger! I cannot describe what I feel, but it is a feeling beyond exhaustion!

Despite the exhaustion, your support gives us strength and I hope you will not let us down

If you can donate, please do so, or at least help us by sharing, so we can reach those who can Your kindness truly keeps us going

>> Our campaign is vetted by gazavetters list at Momen & his family

Gaza is full of oppression #The worst is yet to come #Genocide #A resilient people

[2hiigh2cry]

What a time to be alive.

Happy Black History Month to all and to all a good night ❤️🖤💚

[2hiigh2cry]

“Viktor and Jayce have a brotherly bond, not everything has to be gay.”

[2hiigh2cry]

"round and round" -- the salesman (squid game)

all parts are 18+

part one: "supernova"

part two: "dangerous"

pat three: "illusion"

part four: "what is love?"

part five: "I think he knows"

part six: "ditto"

part seven: "fool's gold"

[2hiigh2cry]

𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

All Squid Game characters belong to Hwang Donghyuck

The Salesman (series)

Hangman | Broke girl meets sadistic Salesman, mdni, +18

Tic-Tac-Toe | Every Wednesday your schedule consisted of attending classes during the day, and satisfying the needs of a sadist through the night, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, mdni, +18

Protecting His Investment | No one got to hurt you except him, mdni, +18

Indebted | He wouldn't call it jealousy... He just wasn't very fond of sharing his toys, mdni, +18

Blink Twice | He's pushing your body to its brink, and it's finally giving out. You're rewarded for all your dazzling work ethic with a “nice” dinner. As ‘nice’ as ‘nice’ gets with him…, mdni, +18

Force-Fed | You didn't need a job. Not when you only needed him, mdni, +18

Namgyu

Better than drugs, Reconnecting with your shitty ex boyfriend in the games. mdni, +18

Girl On TV, After being humiliated by his not-so-innocent friends for being far too innocent, you decide not to be such a prude for once in your life, mdni, +18

[2hiigh2cry]

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

Summary: After getting attacked at the train station, you get rescued by a mysterious stranger. But is that really better?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

To be continued. 🔜

[2hiigh2cry]

Written in the Runes

Chapter 3

➸ Synopsis: Ekko, your mischievous yet endearing local troublemaker, trails a wealthy academy student from the topside. When you end up with the student's satchel, you find a notebook filled with intriguing magical research. Unable to resist, you embark on a quest to uncover the secrets of this mysterious scholar.

➸ Pairing: Jayvik/reader

➸ Chapter Word Count: 2,795

➸ Tags: romance, slow burn, yearning, eventual smut, non canon compliant

➸Notes: Thanks for all the love, y’all! I’m still very new to writing, and your words are so kind. After this chapter, there won’t be a time skip. Things will also differ a bit to what you see in the show, again, I’m just making shit up. Also, we love Mel in this house. Man, when are these dorks going to stop committing crimes?

➸ Previous Chapter Link- pt.2

You’ve never spent much time in Piltover. Your grandmother never allowed it, knowing that the city’s blinding light would expose you and your mother in ways the shadows of the Undercity never could. Piltover is too bright, too open—its light strips away every ounce of protection. The silence here presses in, unnervingly thick, as if the air itself is watching, waiting. You feel as though people could hear your thoughts if they tried.

The three of you move through the academy hall, its vastness stretching endlessly before you. The shadows here are shallow, offering no real cover. Even clinging to the walls, you feel too exposed. Viktor’s cane clicks softly against the floor, a sound that cuts through the stillness, guiding you and Jayce toward Heimdinger’s lab. You glance around the corner, your pulse quickening, but there’s no sign of security. A breath of relief washes over you—Piltover’s arrogance is working in your favor tonight. Their focus is on the Undercity, not their precious academy.

“This way,” Viktor’s voice echoes, low but steady, the sound lingering in the air. You crouch by the door, the small light in your hand trembling, its beam shaking slightly. Viktor fumbles with the keys, his fingers quick but steady.

Jayce crouches beside you, his breath quick and shallow, his body tight with nervous energy. “We need to hurry,” he whispers, his voice tight with barely contained panic.

Viktor mutters, “I’d hurry if I wasn’t being crowded,” a strained smile flickering across his face. His hands are quick as he slots the first key into the lock, and with a soft click, it turns. “So far, so good,” he murmurs, though the words don’t carry the relief you’d expect.

Your attention shifts back to the hallway, the stillness thickening. Then it comes, a faint hum, barely perceptible at first. It pulls at you, a crackling sensation that makes the air feel alive, sparking across your skin. Your hand lowers involuntarily, the light dipping. It’s like something invisible is pushing against you, crawling beneath your skin, urging you forward.

Suddenly, the quiet is shattered by a flash of blinding light.

“Hm. Willing to risk exile for your endeavor? That’s quite the conviction.”

You flinch, eyes struggling to adjust to the blinding brightness. As your vision struggles to clear, something else cuts through—an overwhelming wave of energy. It rushes in, igniting your senses, filling the space around you with a crackling force. It’s golden, electric, like a thousand sparks flying through the air, threading through every nerve. You can feel it, pulling you toward the confrontation, an intensity that makes your chest tighten.

And then Jayce moves. Without hesitation, he shifts in front of you, crouching low still, positioning himself between you and the source of the light. His body is rigid, protective, instinctively shielding you from view. Viktor, still in front of both of you, tenses, his breath hitching slightly in response to the light.

“Wait a minute—this isn’t my bedroom. How could I have—?” Viktor stammers, his voice thin, scrambling for an excuse as his words trip over each other. Jayce follows, almost in unison, “Counselor! What a surprise to see you—uh…” He trails off, realizing with resignation that you’ve all been caught.

Jayce straightens, quickly adopting a more reasoned tone. “Please, we can prove that it works.” As you stand behind him, you subtly adjust your position to get a better look at the woman. Her presence is as commanding as her appearance—graceful, authoritative, poised. She reminds you of a painting, vivid brushstrokes capturing a beauty so striking it almost seems unreal. Her gaze is fixed on Jayce as he speaks, analyzing him intently, as though she could unravel him with a mere glance.

Her eyes flicker toward you for a brief moment, the sudden contact causing you to retreat behind Jayce again. Her voice is laced with serious amusement. “You couldn’t do so earlier today. How is tonight any different?”

You feel the urge to speak up, but the knowledge that she’s a counselor keeps you silent. This is not how you imagined your night would unfold. Your mind briefly flashes to Benzo—how disappointed he’d be if you ended up locked up.

Viktor’s voice cuts through your anxious thoughts. You shift your gaze to watch as he stands. “We figured out how to stabilize it.” He sounds slightly annoyed, as if he expects she won’t understand.

She shifts the light from Jayce to you, then to Viktor, taking a moment to assess your odd little group.

Her eyebrow quirks. “The professor’s assistant and… a stray.” Apparently, that’s what she’s concluded after a quick assessment.

You can feel Jayce stiffen, his voice far firmer than before. “No. They’re my new partners.”

She redirects her gaze to focus on Jayce’s face. Her voice is smooth. “Even if you manage to prove your theory, the council would destroy it.”

Viktor speaks again, his annoyance now extremely evident, and she shifts the light to focus on him. “Heimerdinger will recognize the potential.”

“He already does.” She doesn’t waver, her eyes meeting yours again. You fight the instinct to hide, forcing yourself to stand your ground and hoping she can’t see the fear in your eyes. She softens slightly. “It scares him. It scares them all.”

You should stay quiet—you have no place speaking to a council member, especially since she’s already made it clear what she thinks of you. The “stray” comment is still burning in your chest. But before you can stop yourself, your curiosity wins out over your better judgment. “What about you?”

She pauses, the shock of you speaking quickly masked by her practiced indifference. Her eyes seem to hold either challenge or intrigue. You ignore the two men’s clear panic at your intervention, choosing instead to focus on staying calm.

“I recognize that any worthwhile venture involves risk.”

A whistling tune shifts all attention away from you. The energy in the room becomes immediately panicked—you realize it’s the sound of a security guard. She listens for a moment, clearly amused by the way the three of you react.

Jayce starts pleading. “Counselor, this technology is real, and no matter what happens here, it’s going to change our world. We should be the ones to lead it. Piltover, the land of progress, equality, innovation. I know it sounds impossible, but when have we ever let that stop us? Please, just give us a chance.”

You and Viktor share a glance, the hope between you both palpable. You both hold your breath.

She finally cuts through the suffocating silence, her focus shifting across the three of you. “You have one night.” You all exhale, relieved. “Impress me, or I suggest you pack your bags.”

And just like that, you’re once again left in the darkness, listening as she leads the guard away. None of you dare move for another minute, until Viktor takes your hand, reigniting the small light for you. You’re caught off guard by the sudden contact, a new anxiety filling your chest as he gives you a tight smile before crouching once more. You resume your positions, unlocking the door again—this time uninterrupted.

As you step into the room, you attempt to break the tension. Quirking an eyebrow at Viktor as Jayce rushes to his equipment, you tease, “This isn’t my bedroom?”

His eyes widen for a moment before he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose I’m not great under pressure.”

The two of you surround Jayce, who’s fully focused on his task. Your eyes scan the table. You expected a lot, but this… this is far more than you could have imagined.

It’s beautiful. Every inch is covered not just in pieces of his research, but in countless magical artifacts. You have to fight the urge to inspect each one.

Jayce’s soft voice pulls you out of your thoughts. You look up to realize both men are watching you. You’d expected annoyance at your clear distraction, but instead, their gazes are soft. “We won’t have time to modify the stabilizer. We’ll need to input the right rune combination manually. Can you write them down?”

“Oh, yes, I can, but I’ll need a few minutes.” Nerves settle slightly—it’s a familiar task, but one you haven’t practiced in a while.

Viktor hands you paper and a pen. “Take your time. We’ll need to adjust the oscillation.”

You head to the other side of the room, away from the boys, who are now bent over the machine. The soft clicking of metal and their murmured collaboration fills the room. You take in your surroundings, tuning your senses to the unfamiliar space. Without thinking, you close your eyes. The sounds, the scent of dusty parchment, the temperature, and the hum of unique energy surround you. You carefully guide the symbols on the paper, confident in your work. By the time you head back, Jayce is adding the crystal to the machine with a soft click.

You hand the paper to Viktor, who takes it with his free hand, the other snapping closed the book he holds. You can feel his excited confidence, and see the playful glint in his eyes again. “Time to crank it.”

Jayce is much less confident, his voice wavering as he looks over at Viktor. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

Viktor’s only response is a tight grimace and a shake of his head. You can’t help but snort at the exchange. The three of you gather closer, as if the stone is drawing you in. After a moment of hesitation, Viktor reaches his hand past you, softly clicking the button.

The hum of the crystal intensifies as the machine starts to spiral. Blue light crackles in front of your eyes. Wind picks up as the machine gains power, and you feel Jayce’s panic spike beside you.

“I don’t think it’s gonna hold! Look at the buildup!” Jayce practically yells.

You’re mesmerized by the energy, fighting the urge to reach out. Viktor’s voice is steady and confident. “The resonance will stabilize it. Trust me.” And, as if the stone was listening, it does stabilize. You can practically feel Viktor’s pride.

He finally looks over at Jayce. “I told you it would work.” Anticipation builds. “All yours.”

Jayce is lost in the sight before him, his eyes sparkling with the blue light. Breathless, he murmurs, “Wow, it’s never done that before.” He glances at you with a tight nod, then looks at the runes you wrote. “Alright… here we go.”

Jayce begins to input the rune combination, using the dial. You hold your breath, hoping you got it right. It’s working, and then… he hesitates. The moment disrupts the flow, and the crystal emits a harsh energy. Jayce panics and stops turning the dial altogether. The crystal destabilizes, and you mindlessly grip Viktor’s arm to stay upright. The energy is violent and chaotic.

You shout over the deafening ringing, “You have to continue or it’ll combust!”

Viktor steps closer to you, hand discarding his cane to grip the table. In all the tense moments tonight, this is the first time you see him panic. “Disengage!”

Jayce seems to realize it too, trying to reach for the dial but failing.

A booming sound erupts, and for a moment, time seems to slow. The energy releases away from you. Your eyes fling to the window, the glass shattering and slowly moving outward, until suddenly, the energy pulls back violently, dragging the shards of glass with it. Before any of you can react, the glass slices against your arm. Somehow, Jayce manages to hit the dial, stopping the machine.

The room plunges into darkness, the silence so thick that all you can hear are the frantic beats of your own heart. “Incredible.” You can’t help but smile in the dark, even as your mind races. Of course Viktor finds wonder in it, even though it’s obvious things have gone wrong.

Jayce fumbles to light a lamp and as your eyes adjust, you realize you’re still gripping Viktor’s arm. You release it, and with the movement, it feels like you finally exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Jayce looks between the two of you before stepping back to inspect the machine. Stopping to retrieve his fallen cane, Viktor moves to join him. He hisses, his finger brushing a cut on Jayce’s cheek. Even in the low light, you swear you see Jayce’s ears flush red.

The open window lets outside noise filter in, and shouts from below pull your attention.

“Oh, shit.” The curse slips out before you can stop it as you see enforcers flooding into the academy. There’s no way they missed the explosion—or the light. The realization hits you immediately, and a tight knot forms in your stomach.

The three of you spring into action, but it feels too slow. Jayce works frantically at the machine, and you rush to the door. You lock it just as someone starts pounding on it.

“Open this door immediately!” a voice demands from the other side. Panic spikes in your chest as you hear the unmistakable sound of the door’s lock starting to be undone. You glance back at the boys, both working with urgency.

Just as you look up, Viktor tosses his cane at you. You catch it, surprised, and he raises his eyebrows, his gaze flicking to the door, wordlessly telling you to reinforce it. You slot the cane into place without hesitation, securing the door.

Turning back, you see Jayce place a stone into place with a soft click, quickly resuming his work.

“They’re almost in!” you say, your voice sharp with urgency. The door is being hammered by several people on the other side, the cane barely holding them back.

You try to steady yourself and give Jayce’s arm a quick squeeze, a silent reminder to stay calm. He glances back, giving a tight nod. This time, he closes his eyes as he inputs the runes, his movements as fluid as when you’d deciphered them earlier. You and Viktor lean in, the sound of the shouts from outside fading as the hum of the machine grows louder. And then, suddenly—

A surge of energy pulls back, holding the world suspended in quiet anticipation before it bursts outward again. This time, the energy floods the room, wrapping everything in its glow before it stills, weightless. You’ve never known the world in this way—seeing everything from so high, as if you’re no longer bound to Runeterra. The light doesn’t intimidate you. Instead, it fills you with a profound sense of awe, a wonder so deep it almost hurts. It should feel wrong, an unnatural defiance of gravity’s pull, but instead, it feels as if you’re exactly where you were always meant to be.

Your senses soften as you drift, spinning slowly in the stillness, mesmerized by the way your hair floats and dances around your face. A soft laugh breaks through your reverie. You turn to find Jayce, his hands deftly flicking a cog through the energy, vanishing and reappearing before Viktor in a blur of motion. And oh, it’s beautiful—they’re beautiful. Their smiles are like twin stars, bright enough to rival the very light that surrounds you. You laugh with them as Viktor passes the cog to you, your fingers brushing against its cool surface, flipping it in the air to watch it glide, weightless, past you.

But then, like a shadow crossing the sun, your gaze lands on the doorway. The joy you feel remains untouched by the figures standing there—several enforcers, all with stunned expressions. The Yordle pushes past them, his posture tight with frustration. He’s speaking, but all you catch is a faint, exasperated, “Will you please stop hovering?”

Viktor’s voice rings out through the muffled energy, its sharp edge almost playful: “I’m not sure how to do that, sir!” Even if he could, you imagine he wouldn’t want to.

The Yordle’s voice cracks with desperation, and there’s a weariness to it that strikes you. “This is not what Piltover's future looks like, my dears.” It’s as if he knows—deep down—that there’s no undoing what has been set in motion.

The warm, golden glow pulses once more, wrapping around the soft blue energy, swirling together like the very fabric of the universe. It’s the sensation of space itself—endless, infinite—and the stars shimmer so close you could reach out and touch them. “That is for the Council to decide,” a soft, melodic voice rises, and it carries with it the weight of something momentous. “Perhaps it’s time for the era of magic.”

“Uh—Hextech,” Jayce interrupts, his tone laced with a quiet but resolute certainty. He looks down at the woman, his gaze steady. “For the era of Hextech.”

[2hiigh2cry]

i saw go before me, a great impossible thing

sensual and concrete

splitting me open

renders me obsolete

i’ve slain greater

and moved on

make room in hell

make room in hell

make room in hell

they cry, you don’t have to go

they cry, you don’t have to go

my love

i know

i know

i know

i know

i know

i know

i know

i know

[2hiigh2cry]

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 9.

viktorxfemale!reader explict! (we got there)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 7,2K!

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: spoiler: In the timeline of my writing, this is the first sex scene I've ever written on my own. So, what can I say? This is an imperfect story about imperfect people, but I can assure you it has an eventual happy ending.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

The absolute chaos of Christmas looming spread across the campus like an infectious frenzy. The corridors were decked with the most absurd ornaments the students could scavenge—Santa Claus figurines strung up and dangling upside down from the ceiling of the canteen, Christmas trees adorned with laboratory glassware and angel hair, and a mockery of carols blaring on repeat from the school radio. It was a bizarre fusion of science and art, a perfect encapsulation of the university’s peculiar spirit.

Every student seemed to be racing against time, scrambling to finish their projects and papers before the holidays, determined to return prepared for the looming finals. The labs and library remained open around the clock for anyone desperate enough to study or practise at odd hours.

You and Sue spent every spare moment in the lab classroom, tinkering with projects that needed to be submitted by the semester’s end. Meanwhile, Jayce and Viktor made themselves available to assist and guide anyone who might need their expertise, and the group crossed paths periodically, exchanging polite gestures and jokes to keep up the holiday spirit. Viktor had made a few attempts to talk to you after his mortifying text message, but you did your best to ignore him.

Which made your current situation, to say the least, far from ideal. Sue was rushing you to jot down all the points before she had to dash off and tend to a project for another class. The two of you huffed at each other, frustration starting to take its toll, until you sighed and said, “Sue, how about I finish this, and you go do your thing? I really don’t mind.” You offered your friend a reassuring smile.

Sue hesitated, narrowing her eyes. “Are you sick of me or something?”

“I’m never sick of you,” you said, placing your hand on Sue’s knee and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “I just think this needs a bit more work, and I can see you’re in a hurry. Honestly, I really don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Okay, I admit my mind is elsewhere. Fine,” Sue sighed in mock defeat. “I’ll do something for you in return, I promise.” She started packing up her things and leaned over to place a hand on your shoulder.

“Just get me a cookie or something,” you replied with a tired smile, gently brushing Sue’s hand away. You figured you’d probably finish the work faster on your own, and you were running out of time anyway. The lab was already emptying, darkness had fallen outside, your eyes burned from staring at the chemicals for so long, and you’d had more than enough for one day.

After Sue left, you resumed your work, determined to finish everything in one evening. The promise of rest and the satisfaction of completion fuelled you. You were so focused on jotting down your thoughts that you didn’t notice when Viktor sat beside you and leaned over your notes.

“Do you... need help?” His voice was unsure, as if he were asking about something else as well.

You hesitated. Help would certainly be welcome, but Viktor’s presence would also make it harder for you to focus. The final equation seemed to balance out the odds. You looked at him—he looked tired yet sharp. He wore the same green jumper he’d had on that night, with a crisp white shirt collar peeking out from underneath it. His scent was fresh and comforting, and his eyes, full of quiet anticipation, were fixed on you as you calculated your decision. You sighed. Yes, you needed help.

“Alright. Shoot me.”

For a split second, Viktor’s face lit up before he leaned in closer. “You’re pretty far along,” he said, his expression thoughtful, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You can dictate, and I’ll translate it into Heimerdinger’s language?”

“That would honestly be perfect,” you admitted, letting out a huff of relief as you turned your attention back to the chaotic scrawl of notes Sue had left behind. Terrible handwriting.

The two of you worked together in near silence, the hum of the lab equipment and the faint scratching of Viktor’s pen the only sounds between you. You found yourself occasionally distracted by the way Viktor’s long fingers moved as he pointed to your results, his low voice guiding you through adjustments. You tried to stay focused, but every now and then, you’d catch yourself glancing at him, his concentration a tether pulling your attention away from your notes.

Viktor, for his part, couldn’t help but steal glances at you. The faint scent of your perfume mixed with the sterile air of the lab, and it made something in his chest feel warm, almost achingly so. He bit his lip nervously whenever he realised he’d been staring too long, forcing his attention back to writing.

It took the two of you longer than either of you had expected, but when you finally wrapped up, the lab was completely empty. You stretched your arms over your head, letting out a soft groan of relief.

“That’s it, then,” you said, your voice tired but satisfied. “Thank you, Viktor. Honestly, I’d still be drowning in that mess if you hadn’t—”

“It’s nothing,” he cut you off gently, placing the pen down and leaning back slightly. He watched as you began gathering your things, clearly ready to leave. But before you could stand, he cleared his throat, his voice softer now. “Hey.”

You paused, looking at him.

“Did you…” He hesitated, the words suddenly harder to push out. He fidgeted with the edge of his notebook. “Did you get my text message?”

Of course, you did. You’d seen his stupid, childish message. The ‘I like you,’ had screamed at you from your phone screen for two weeks now, and you’d both loved it and hated it. Who writes ‘I like you’ like a five-year-old? And not only that, who needs to down an entire bottle of whisky to muster the courage to write ‘I like you’?

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. You hadn’t expected this. You shifted awkwardly in your chair, avoiding his gaze. “I did,” you said finally, your voice measured, careful.

Viktor’s expression remained unreadable, but his hands tightened around the notebook in front of him. “And?”

You let out a breath, your lips pressing into a thin line. “And… if I’m to rely on you saying or doing something from the heart only when you get yourself blind drunk, that wouldn’t be the best choice for your health, Viktor,” your voice was quiet, your eyes fixed on the workbench in front of you. “And I don’t want to be bad for your health.” You offered him a faint smile and looked down again. “If it was from the heart, in the first place.”

His brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded, his gaze dropping to the table. “It was.�� It was. And it shamed him deeply that, indeed, he’d needed liquid courage to admit it. Only now did it strike him how awful it must have made you feel. “But I have a… rabbit heart.”

“Am I so terrifying?” you felt mockery twisting itself inside you with anger. Why were you so angry, though? You also had a rabbit heart. You often caught yourself knowing exactly what Viktor was going to say because you used the same words in your history of backing out. Was this the universe having a go at you?

“Yes, you scare the living shit out of me,” he huffed out a shaky laugh, lowering his voice. It was probably the biggest truth he’d told you in all this time.

“Well, this can’t be good for your health either, then, no?” Deflect, deflect, deflect, hide yourself behind that joke. Very well done, you.

“I—” Viktor paused, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “Look, I lied. I’m not good with any setup—casual or not. I—” He stopped himself, his eyes flicking briefly to yours before looking away again. He was torn, visibly at war with his own feelings.

You didn’t want to hear him stumble over words again. “Viktor, I get it. It’s fine. We can still be friends?” You tried to search your mind for what you’d want to hear all those times when you told someone politely the relationship wasn’t working for you.

You thought this was it—an offer of friendship. Most people got hurt or annoyed with you, and it made you feel guilty. So, you tried to say something that wouldn’t make him feel guilty. As soon as you said it, you realised that what you actually wanted was for someone not to let you retreat—but it was too late for that.

Viktor took in a shaky breath, his gaze returning to yours, but he still looked uncertain. “I can’t do that,” he said quietly, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place. “I can’t be just your friend.” His hands clenched into fists on the table. “I... I’ve tried to be fine with it, but I’m not. I can’t pretend.”

“But I don’t know how to be anything else,” he added after a beat, his mind flicking back to all the times he’d snuck out of someone’s bedroom or when he found himself alone in the morning, in his own cold, sweaty bed. After some time, it became a habit, a quiet indulgence that carried no consequences, and it aligned very well with his main goal: to make his life more than it was meant to be. No distractions, only his goal. Some distractions, but not too many. Only friendships, and here as well, only the stimulating ones. To keep his brain fed, so his soul could starve.

“I have worked… so hard,” he brushed his hand through his hair. “To get where I am. I was meant to fail, and I haven’t failed once. I haven’t failed a single time, aside from some tiny, insignificant stumbles that eventually lead me to answers anyway. So many times I haven’t failed that I don’t think I know how to,” his voice was quiet, as if admitting something shameful. He said it as though any slip-up could cost him everything he’s worked for.

“I… understand,” you said slowly, piecing together the crumbs of information. Viktor didn’t come from a place of love, like you did. He didn’t come from a place of opportunity. He probably had to claw his way through pompous academics who didn’t take him seriously. You understood that part. But what was your part in turning it all to dust—that eluded you. So you didn’t understand, not entirely.

“Do you?” he looked at you longingly, expectantly, and it made your heart ache. What was it that you were supposed to give him now? A promise you would never hurt him? That you would never distract him or drag his mind away from what’s important?

“Viktor, this shouldn’t be so hard, I’m not some mythical creature,” you said, trying to inject a touch of humour into your voice, but it came out thin, brittle.

Viktor’s gaze softened, but the intensity in his eyes remained. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and steady. “No, you’re not,” he murmured, as if trying to reconcile something inside himself. “But you’re not like anyone else either.”

Your chest tightened at the words, but you quickly pushed it aside, unwilling to let yourself feel vulnerable. You folded your arms across your chest, as if protecting yourself from something you couldn’t name. “I don’t want to be a puzzle for you to solve, Viktor. I don’t want to be some challenge you feel like you need to conquer. That’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. He wanted to argue, to convince you that it wasn’t about conquest, that it was about something deeper, but he could tell it wasn’t the right time. Not yet. “I don’t… I don’t think of you like that,” he said, his voice almost too soft, as if afraid to break the fragile moment between you. “I think of you as someone I want to understand, someone who...” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence, the words feeling too heavy in the air.

You shifted in your seat, your eyes narrowing slightly as you considered his words. There was a vulnerability in his voice, a quiet sincerity that you weren’t used to hearing. You almost wanted to reach out, to ease the tension that hung between you, but you held yourself back.

There was a long, aching pause between you before Viktor cleared his throat and leaned back, trying to break the silence. “So,” he said, the words coming out in a lighter tone, “how many do-overs do you think we can have?”

You rolled your eyes at him, a small, rueful smile tugging at your lips. “I find myself hoping that each one is the last one,” you replied dryly, though your heart wasn’t fully in the jest. “Thank you for all the help.”

Viktor smiled, a faint, almost self-deprecating chuckle escaping him. “Oh, no worries. I’ll see you at the Christmas party?” he asked, his voice a little uncertain, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d respond.

You nodded, your expression softening just slightly. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” you said, your tone neutral, but not dismissive. “Take care, Viktor.”

With that, you parted ways, the lingering tension still hanging between you, neither fully satisfied with the conversation, but both with the understanding that you were somehow still connected—however uncertain that connection was.

You found an unbearable thought gnawing at you—that in this state, the only ‘do-over’ you could count on was friendship, and Viktor couldn’t afford that. Inevitably, it would end with nothing.

***

It wasn’t exactly a party, but the pub was completely packed with people—students, assistants, and random individuals who wandered around campus, their roles in it a complete mystery. Everything was bathed in the warm glow of Christmas decorations, making the space feel even more cramped.

You sat at a small round table with Sue, some familiar faces scattered around, including Jayce and Viktor, who had joined after their TA duties. Sue was mid-sentence when you leaned back in your chair, your eyes wandering. You weren’t in the mood for all the noise tonight. The words blurred around you as you half-listened, your fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of your glass—a quiet distraction. Viktor was talking to Jayce, his sharp voice cutting through the noise every now and then. His dry wit was always on full display, the kind that kept people around him in that odd mix of awe and wariness.

“You okay?” Sue’s voice brought you back. You blinked, nodding slowly.

“Yeah, just... tired, I guess,” you said, forcing a polite smile as you took a sip of your drink.

The room was hazy with cigarette smoke, the heat becoming unbearable. The whole scene was so unbearably sweet and cozy that it made you flinch. Your eyes kept glancing over to Viktor, who would immediately look away as soon as your gazes met. You kept thinking about what another do-over could look like and felt yourself growing more and more frustrated with the space between you, even though you were sitting so close to each other. You could feel Sue's eyes on you but couldn’t quite explain why you felt this way.

Sue raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Well, if you need to bail early, I totally get it.”

You hesitated, then gave a half shrug. “I think I’ll head out. Just... not feeling it, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Sue replied, offering a quick nod. “See you later?”

“Yeah.” You stood, grabbing your coat from the back of your chair. As you made your way through the maze of tables, you could hear Viktor's voice in the background—just enough to make you pause. You could feel his gaze on you, but you ignored it, focusing instead on the exit.

Viktor watched as you stood and walked away, a wave of frustration rising within him, forming itself into a long sigh. He had tried, hadn’t he? He had said things—things he never said to anyone—but now you were leaving, retreating like always. His jaw tightened, and he felt his fingers curl into fists on the table. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not after everything. He should’ve known better, but still, your departure stung.

He couldn’t place why, but it felt like you were slipping away just as he was beginning to reach out. You were both so fucking terrible at talking, at letting yourselves feel anything real. Why did it have to be so difficult?

The cold air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, and for a moment, it felt like a relief. The street was quiet, the only sound the crunch of snow beneath your boots. You slid your headphones on and started walking toward the dorms, matching your steps to the rhythm of the song.

You awaited rest and home and being far away from here with utter impatience. Just one more evening of this. Just one more evening of thinking and biting at your own lips, glancing at your phone, and then it would only be your parents, and Hale, and the quiet evenings at Sheffield, for a week.

Against reason, Viktor followed you, his footsteps soft but steady as he stepped out of the pub moments later. His eyes caught sight of your retreating figure, and a small, amused smile played at the corner of his lips. He’d almost not been surprised—almost expected it.

He called out your name, his voice lost to the wind and muffled by the sounds of the night. But you didn’t hear him. Quickening his pace, his breath misted in the cold air. He called again, louder this time, but still, you didn’t turn.

A small part of him considered letting you go, letting you stew in your thoughts, just leaving it for after the break. But the rest of him felt pulled, like a dog on a leash in front of a vet’s door.

You were nearing the entrance to the dorms when you finally paused, taking a deep breath, and tugging your headphones off with a slight wince. The moment you heard your name, you froze, your heart skipping in your chest.

“Hey you!” Viktor’s voice was closer now, cutting through the night. When you turned, you saw him standing at the edge of the walkway, just outside the dorm. His breath came in visible puffs, his chest heaving as if he’d run after you.

“You walk... so fucking fast,” he said, still catching his breath. “I never figured you for the type to run off so bluntly. But I suppose that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” Yes, just laugh it out. Viktor took a few steps forward, leaning heavily on his cane.

“Are you fucking drunk again?” you blinked, your mind racing. You had to admit to yourself that Viktor drunkenly following you from the bar was a coin toss you wouldn’t have bet on. Especially after your last talk. Funny.

“Are you not?” he countered, his words smoother than you expected.

“No. Go back to your pub, Viktor.” Your voice was flat now, each word carefully measured. You exhaled sharply, your shoulders sinking as if the weight of the evening had finally caught up with you. You were so tired of this.

Viktor tilted his head, his smile barely visible in the shadows as he took a step closer. “Eh, make me,” he said softly, though it wasn’t a challenge—not really.

Another step.

“I am so not in the mood for you now,” you muttered, your hands dropping limply by your sides as you turned away, dragging yourself down the corridor toward the elevators. Your voice lacked its usual bite, tinged instead with exhaustion.

“Alright, alright, I’m not drunk, just had one pint. Oh, come on,” Viktor mock-pleaded, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as he quickened his pace to catch up with you. “You won’t see me the entire holiday break.”

“And I will savour every single day of this glorious relief from your constant nagging, poking, your sweet side and your dick side, and having fun at my expense,” you snapped, jabbing the elevator button with increasing impatience, your words punctuated by each press.

You were expecting another joke, but Viktor’s hands gripped your waist firmly, twisting you around. Your breath caught as he pulled you flush against him, the heat of his body sharp against the cold you’d carried in from outside.

“Shut up,” he breathed, his voice raw and ragged as his lips found yours. The kiss was unsteady, heated, and messy, tasting faintly of sweet beer and a frustration that mirrored your own. He panted into your mouth, his lips parting just enough to nip at yours.

“Just… shut up, for once,” he murmured, crowding you against the elevator door. It slid open behind you with a soft chime, and you stumbled inside, Viktor’s cane clattering to the floor as he steadied you against the wall. He pulled your turtleneck down to lick your neck greedily over the bite mark he had left there. His hands quickly found their way under your sweater, and he gasped, bemused by your lack of underwear. “No bra?” Again. A low chuckle rumbled against your skin. “Is that your idea of a Christmas present?”

“Fuck off,” you scoffed, your voice still sharp with lingering anger. Your hands pressed against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but the lack of real force and your hands still gripping his coat tightly betrayed you.

“Are you sure?” Viktor smirked, his grip firm as he tilted your chin up, pressing a lingering, deceptively sweet kiss to your lips. “This is your floor,” he said, his voice agonizingly calm as he stepped back, gesturing toward the elevator doors sliding open.

“Or…” His tone shifted, almost teasing, as he pressed the button to close the doors and send them up to his floor instead. “You could come with me. For real, this time.”

You pulled him wordlessly toward you, offering no resistance—nothing more, nothing less. Words had failed you, but your actions were clear. It was enough. Viktor wanted to say, That’s what I thought, the words teasing the edge of his tongue, but he held them back. Instead, he captured your lips again, kissing frantically. He explored your mouth, swallowing the small sounds you made, the elevator a blur as it carried you upward.

By the time you reached his room, Viktor managed to open the door without breaking the kiss, his cane hanging hooked over his arm. You stumbled inside together, the heat between you growing unbearable, and he pressed you firmly against the door, his hands bracing your hips as his lips moved over yours with unrelenting zeal. You pulled him closer, your breath catching as you managed to rasp, “Bed?”

Viktor chuckled softly against your lips; his tone laced with teasing. “Impatient, are we?” But there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze, the way his hands tightened on your hips as he broke the kiss just long enough to guide you further into the room.

“Fuck you,” you muttered, your voice raw as your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him with you.

“Yes. Please, fuck me,” Viktor murmured, sweeping you into another fervent kiss as you stumbled toward the bed. “I’m so tired of you not fucking me.”

You scoffed into his mouth. And who is to blame for that? You sunk into the mattress, pulling Viktor with you by his belt, the cane poking your leg.

“Why are you wearing so many clothes?” he whined, his voice laced with frustration as his clumsy hands fumbled with your coat. His hasty movements betrayed him, and in the rush, his knee accidentally pressed against your arm.

“Ow!” you winced, your sharp tone softening as you glanced at his face. The irritation melted away when you saw the unabashed eagerness in his expression, the way his brow furrowed in determination despite his lack of grace. “Is this going to be painful?” you asked, your lips quirking in a faint, teasing smile, though your voice still held a trace of genuine concern.

Viktor froze, blinking down at you like a scolded child. “Only if you want it to be,” he muttered, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back to regroup. His fingers moved more carefully now, peeling the coat off from underneath you with exaggerated precision. “Better?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Viktor granted you a low chuckle, his lips quirking in that familiar, lopsided smirk. “Ridiculous, perhaps, but effective,” he murmured as he continued with his careful work, peeling away the layers of your clothing like unwrapping a particularly stubborn present.

His own clothes, however, didn’t receive the same treatment. He shed them with reckless abandon, tossing each piece into an ever-growing messy pile near the bed, his leg brace a crown on top of it. His cane clattered softly to the floor as he leaned back for balance, the faintest flush spreading across his cheeks.

Once you were both were bare, he ran his palms gently along your sides and pressed his face to your hip, your belly, your neck, inhaling your skin. “God, you are so infuriating,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your body.

He glued himself to you, his hands roaming wherever they could reach, as if this were the moment he’d been waiting to happen for the longest time. And it was, of course. The decision to toss everything aside and just jump in might have been reckless, but he had no capacity to decide otherwise.

“Infuriating?” you laughed, feigning offense. “Is that the way you treat all of your conquests? Make them follow you around by the nose for months, until your resolve finally breaks after one pint?”

“No, only you,” he replied smoothly, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He added with a sly smirk, “It’s my love language with you.”

“Love?” you repeated, voice laced with teasing incredulity, but the hesitation in your tone betrayed how the word caught you off guard.

“Shut up,” Viktor muttered, his hand gliding up your side as he kissed you, silencing your laughter before you could push further. “Attraction,” he murmured against your neck, his lips pressing a lingering kiss there. “Want,” he added, his teeth grazing your breast, earning a sharp gasp from your mouth. “Admiration,” he said, coming back up to meet your eyes and give you a slow, steady kiss. He took your fingers into his mouth and watched your eyes flutter shut, your lips parting.

His voice dipped lower, teasing, and dangerous. “Anyway, is that not what we have been doing?” His hands explored the meat of your ass with a firm grip, his touch both intoxicating and commanding as he pressed himself flush against your core. He shifted against you with a kind of intimacy that had your breath hitching.

“Have you not been loving me all this time?” His words, soft and taunting, carried a heat that matched the tension thrumming between you. His hand moved down between your thighs to scoop your wetness and lick it off his fingers, as he made sure you were watching. “Ah, it seems,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, “you’ve been loving me back all along.”

You trembled under him, your breath catching as your hands gripped his shoulders. A quiet plea escaped your lips, barely audible but filled with vulnerability. “Don’t be mean, Viktor.”

For a moment, he stilled, his expression softening as he pulled back to look at you. His golden eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, held a flicker of something warmer, deeper. “Mean?” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “No. Not with you.”

The teasing edge in his voice melted away as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, slow and deliberate, as though trying to convey what words couldn’t. He was so bad at talking if you thought he was being mean. His hands cradled your face, and his next words came as a low promise against your skin. “I could never be mean to you.”

You huffed softly, a half-laugh escaping you as memories of all the times he’d actually been mean flitted through your mind. “Liar,” you muttered against his lips, though there was no venom in your tone. Instead, you kissed him back longingly, your fingers threading into his hair as your thighs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer.

Viktor exhaled a shaky breath, his control fraying under your touch. “Perhaps,” he admitted with a faint, self-deprecating smile, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. “But you give as good as you get, don’t you?” he said playfully, reaching over to pull a condom out of his bedside drawer and put it on swiftly. Then, he grabbed a spare pillow to prop his leg. His belly was tied into a knot, teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, as he placed one hand between where your bodies were going to meet to align himself at the entrance.

He studied your face, as if to check if there was any resistance left. But you only looked at him with wide eyes, your hands fisting the bed sheet. He swept through his body in a final calculation of what could go wrong—he wasn’t drunk, that was a good start. His leg, eh, not perfect, but he should be able to pull this off. Did he want to love you or tease you? He had forgotten which one it was. A shuddery breath escaped him when your bodies finally connected—he entered you slowly, holding back to lay on top of you.

The first thrust was so deliberate, so slow, so overwhelming that you both moaned into each other's mouths. Your brows tied themselves together, your palms stiff in hesitation over his shoulders, as the feeling of relief surged through you. A relief of finally not being empty.

The only movement Viktor allowed himself was the roll of his hips as he sunk inside you, beat after beat. His arms caged you in, one of his hands gripping your shoulder, the other cradling the base of your skull, as he kept your faces close so he could study you, watch you. He stared at you obscenely, taking in your expressions, disbelief wrenching breath out of his lungs. You really wanted him. You were holding him in a vacuous trap, making it hard to pull out and push back in.

And this wasn’t new. People wanted him, he knew that. They wanted him for this—for a fun fuck—and when they continued to want him afterward, it felt like a fluke. So he shut it down. And it made him feel powerful. No, it made him feel weak. It made his weakness powerful. It gave him the power to disappear from it, from himself, to not be present.

The fact that he was present now, attentive, was rather new for him. Not entirely—he’d had a glimpse of what it could be that night when you were high together, but he hadn’t dared breach the boundary of clothing then. This, though, was entirely different. He watched you so carefully, studying every reaction to his touch. He pushed where you gasped and retreated where you winced. Your kisses were as hungry as his, and it made him feel so full. The fuck was more than fun. It made him feel powerful in a way that didn’t make him feel weak.

He tightened his grip, his forehead resting on yous as he buried himself deep inside, thrust after thrust. His mouth open against you, breathing in every gasp, every whimper you were willing to give him. His pace was even, unwavering, as he murmured against your lips, “You’ve been giving me so much grief.”

He locked eyes with you, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he added, “But it really feels like you’ve been loving me back. Haven’t you?” His voice was soft, as though waiting for you to answer not just with words, but with the quiet truth in your eyes.

You slid her fingers into his hair, pulling him in for another desperate kiss, and Viktor caught a faint, barely audible ‘yes,’ offered to drown deep in his throat, traveling straight to his heart, as if you were offering him a secret you hadn’t meant to give away. The sound stirred something deep within him, and as you arched against him, your breath catching, he deepened the kiss and quickened his pace. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, murmuring quiet praises, each word filled with reverence as you moved together toward completion.

He slid one hand to the nape of your neck, another snaked itself between your bodies, his fingers parting you as he whispered softly, “Oh, my girl.” Your eyes fluttered shut, arms wrapping around his shoulders and you muffled your own moan against his mouth, lips and noses brushing against each other. He rubbed lazy circles on your clit, a smile blooming on his face when he felt your back arching beneath him, hips pressing upward to meet his, your cunt clenching around his cock in a tight, needy hug.

He felt your thighs squeezing his hips, your walls fluttering, pulling him deeper inside you, with you. You dug her nails into his shoulders, lips parted pressed against his, foreheads pressed together mingling droplets of sweat into one.

You felt a sudden urge to say, “Thank you,” distorted by a loud moan as you came on his cock, on his fingers, your body tensing up and bending to the sound of his name falling from her lips. It took a long time, and you thought it would never stop, your climax blinding, contorting your body around him with a force to bend and crush.

Viktor’s mind got invaded by a thought of how great it felt to make a girl such as yourself lose control over her own muscles. How it had made him grow taller and bigger, his heart swollen with your grace, his lips bruised from your teeth. Slowly, he worked you through each spasm, and when you were ready, he retreated his hand to wrap both arms around you and buried his face in your neck. His breathing jagged, teeth sinking into your shoulder to not say too much at the sudden tightness around his cock.

His rhythm began to stutter, movements growing urgent by the minute as he buried himself within you up to the hilt. His breath was uneven, his muscles flexing and twisting. He felt your core hugging his cock so tight, he couldn’t hold back his own panting, as if he were a teenager all over again. He moved his face to brush against yours, whispered your name again, voice trembling, and he came with one thick, everlasting pang, whimpering weakly into your mouth.

His body melted into yous with a long, contented sigh, his arms wrapped tightly around you, stomachs and chests pressed, rising and falling together. You stayed like that in silence for a few moments, not moving, just touching, just breathing, just being.

Finally, Viktor rolled you both to the side, his leg hooked over your hip, fingers threading through your hair, and gave you an almost solemn look.

“What is this face?” you asked softly, cupping his cheek and brushing your thumb across his lip.

He sucked on it slowly, not breaking eye contact. “I never thought you would be so…” His voice trailed off for a moment, and just as you braced yourself for another joke, he finished, “wonderful.”

You managed only to whisper a quiet “Viktor—,” your grip tightening around him as the weight of this little praise crushed you. As his eyes crushed you, his warmth crushed you, as you crushed yourself with everything you wanted to say but couldn’t.

Viktor pulled back just a few inches, his gaze searching yours. “Are you going away for Christmas tomorrow?” he asked, his voice soft, almost tentative. Normal.

You nodded slowly, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you answered, “Yeah.”

“Will you stay?” Please, stay. Please don’t have me wake up alone tomorrow. A weakness crept back in.

You nodded against his neck. A quiet breath escaped Viktor’s lips as he leaned in to kiss your forehead, pulling you back against him. He sighed softly, the sound almost like a weight lifting. He didn’t speak for a few moments, just holding you as if afraid you might disappear if he let go.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice quieter now. “I have no idea how I’m going to explain my absence to Sue though.”

Viktor’s lips curled into a playful smirk, and he raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, his voice teasing. “I’ll just tell her you got really into the holiday spirit and had to spend the night with your favourite TA.”

You chuckled softly, the tension between you easing just a little. “I’m sure she’ll believe that,” you replied, though the words felt lighter now, softer.

Viktor’s expression shifted to one of mock seriousness as he pulled you a little closer. “But tomorrow, when the morning comes,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, “I’ll have to call it in. You caught me drunk, used me for your advantage,” he paused, his eyes glinting with mischief, “and I’ll make sure everyone knows it.”

You let out a small laugh, your face flushing slightly at the absurdity of the situation. “Selling me out already, I see how this will go,” you said, teasing him back. “I’m sure you won’t mind telling them how you practically begged me to stay the night and cuddle you.”

Viktor smiled, but his eyes softened. “I won’t,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your temple again, holding you in the quiet aftermath. The moment felt almost unreal—so intimate, so fragile—and yet, there you were. He wouldn’t dare break it by asking for more. And even though Viktor’s chest was still swollen with fear, his mind drifted to sleep in your arms.

Your own mind, however, was restless. As the high of your connection faded, you woke up early, your thoughts gnawing at you. Viktor was fast asleep, his expression so peaceful that you couldn’t believe he had a bad bone in his body. Yet, you had been stabbed so many times. It wasn’t real, was it? It couldn’t be over, just like that. What if he was right, and you weren’t meant to share the awkwardness of the morning? What if he tried to shrug it off once he woke up? Would you survive if he did?

No. You wouldn’t.

Cursing yourself, you slid out of bed, put your clothes back on, and gave Viktor, who was sleeping soundly, one last glance that tore through your soul. And left.

***

The morning light crept through the gaps in the blinds, painting pale stripes across the sheets. Viktor stirred, his body heavy and warm, though there was an odd hollowness in the bed. He reached out instinctively, the fog of sleep not yet cleared, his fingers brushing against nothing but the cold fabric of the mattress. His eyes blinked open.

The room was silent.

He sat up slowly, scanning the space, the sense of emptiness clawing at him as the realisation began to take shape. You were gone.

The sheets beside him were rumpled, but the space was cold, long abandoned. For a moment, he stared at the spot you’d occupied, trying to convince himself you might still be here. Perhaps you were in the bathroom, or in his tiny kitchen searching for tea—but no sound of movement met his ears.

A chill crept through his chest, spreading outwards, a tight knot forming in his stomach. You left.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movements clumsy, hurried, his leg straining without the brace. There had to be something—a note, a message, anything that might explain. The bedside table was empty. The dresser? Nothing. Viktor opened a drawer, then another, rifling through with increasing desperation, though he knew even as he searched how ridiculous it was. You wouldn’t leave a note in a drawer.

His gaze snapped to his phone. He lunged for it, unlocking the screen with trembling fingers. Nothing. No missed calls. No texts.

He stood there in the middle of the room, staring at the empty screen. His chest tightened, his breaths coming faster, each one shallower than the last. Of course.

What had he been thinking? That after all his fumbling, after all his glaring flaws, you would stay? That someone like you, bright and untamed, would want someone like him—a man who could barely navigate his own feelings without tripping over them?

Right. His fingers clenched around the phone, the pressure digging into his palm. How stupid. How painfully, pathetically stupid. How weak.

He sank back onto the bed, his head in his hands. The weight of the silence pressed down on him. Every echo in the room seemed to mock him. The bed felt too big now, the walls closing in too fast. His mind replayed your smile, your laugh, the warmth in your eyes last night, and it made his chest ache. How could you think you’d earned something like this?

And yet, beneath the sinking despair, anger simmered. At himself. At you. At the cruel absurdity of it all. You’d kissed him, held him, and for a brief moment, he’d thought you were standing on equal ground. But the truth was stark now, laid bare in her absence: you’d left. Or maybe that was an equal ground, after all. Now, you were truly even.

A sharp knock at the door jolted him from his spiralling thoughts. He didn’t answer immediately, hoping whoever it was would go away, but the knock came again, louder this time.

“Viktor?” Jayce’s familiar voice called from the other side. “You ready? We’ve got to leave in half an hour, mate.”

Viktor swallowed hard; his throat dry. His hands slowly dropped from his face as he stared at the door. Jayce’s voice was too cheerful, too ordinary, too far removed from the storm brewing inside him. He wanted to shout at him, to tell him to go away, but the words wouldn’t come.

“I’ll be ready,” he croaked after a pause, his voice hoarse and thin.

There was silence on the other side of the door for a moment, then the sound of Jayce’s footsteps retreating down the hall. Viktor exhaled shakily, his gaze drifting back to the rumpled sheets beside him. Forcing himself to move, he stood and began to gather his things. Each motion felt mechanical, hollow. The knot in his chest didn’t loosen, but he pushed it down, swallowing it whole. It was almost Christmas. He had to pretend. At least for a little while longer.