#Devises c

[get-along-little-khornedoggie]

HE HAS TO HOLD C!TECHNO'S PHONE WITH BOTH HANDS, LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THAT DANG THING

in fairness you gotta figure any phone they make in the nether is like a giant fireproof lavaproof hellproof nokia brick anyways, though, or else they're never cornering the lava strider market

[cakesplice]

2am which means it is harunami o clock 💖

[ofvaporex]

He's tired. He hurts. And yet he's found his way to a temple of the Guiding Hand, rebuilt to look as close to the original as they could manage.

There's a strange nostalgia for Ratchet, coming here. He sits in one of the seats staring up at the empty altar; religion had given many people peace during the seemingly endless conflict. It had only brought him pain and anger.

And yet he'd once sat in the original temple, bright gaze focused on the idols, repeating the tenets as a weathered old priest read them out. A loyal believer.

He supposed, looking back on it, that perhaps he'd never stopped believing. He'd simply gotten angry.

Which was, admittedly, harder to admit than embracing atheism.

He'd raged at a voice that would not answer, tired with his hands coated in some poor young bastard's energon in the poorly lit backroom off his Dead End clinic. He'd seethed in silent fury at a god that would not listen when he watched everything he'd built to help the poor and forgotten torn down before his optics.

To say he was an atheist required less explanation to those who had known him in his youth than to say he was devastated.

One hand lifts, rubbing at an ache beneath his chestplate he can't shake. Conflicting feelings, grief, distress... they're all things that can result in this sort of pain, and he knows it.

He thinks, perhaps, he should head home earlier. But he doesn't want to simply leave and have Rung and Megatron arrive to an empty hotel room. Instead, he does what he did for centuries before the war ended: he ignores the pain.

Pushing up from his seat, he turns from the altar without a single word, heading back into the bustling streets of the young city.

[etfrin]

❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ doll — coriolanus snow & clemensia dovecote ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | threesome, cum eating, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), fingering (f. receiving) | lmk if I forgot something

☆　Pairing: tutor! Clemensia x fem! Reader x tutor! Coriolanus

☆　Summary: headcanons and a drabble for tutor! Clemmie and Coryo <33

☆　A/N: I want them both so deal with it :/

masterlist | navigation | bc: @cafekitsune

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — you were just an assignment to them at first. They agreed to tutor you because of the extra credits.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — you weren't cooperative at first. Your eyes filled with annoyance, your words filled with animosity that neither Coryo nor Clemmie knew the reason for.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — turns out you were always bullied by the rich and privileged so you had already assumed them to be the same.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — you were proven wrong. Coryo felt sympathy for you, as you both lived in a similar situation. Coryo sneaks out food from the academy to share with you during your solo sessions with him.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — Clemensia bought food from home to share with you. Bringing in the finest cuisines that you could only dream about eating, you always had leftovers to give to Coryo later.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — this helped win them plus points with you, and you begin to earnestly pay attention to the lessons. Try your best to impress them.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — it started with ‘rewards’ Clemmie begins to give you with your good grades. For a C you would get dresses and more, a B would get you makeup and branded perfumes, and an A would get you everything mentioned before along with whatever you wanted.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — of course, it wasn't because she had grown attached to you and wanted to spoil you to no end. She had begun to like your smiles, and your laughs, the small gasp you made when you did something right. There's no doubt in her mind that you deserved these gifts. It certainly helped that all the clothes were tailored just for you and made you look like the doll you are for her.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — with Coryo’s financial situation, he couldn't spoil you with lavishing gifts. So he simply manipulated you into craving his praise, his validation instead. When you get something wrong, he looks at you with such disappointment that tears pool immediately but gosh, when you get something right. His blue eyes brighten, his lips pulling up in a smile so radiant that it blinds you, making you unable to see the cold man underneath.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — soon, both of them realize their feelings for you. However both of them know better than to fight for your attention, they both devise a plan to share their sweet little doll instead. They slowly coax you into a relationship with them. You don't even realize the web of traps you are getting into.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — the study sessions including both of them increase. You squeeze between Coryo and Clemmie as they teach you. You can't take in air with Clemmie's hot breathing down your neck, making you shiver. Her fingers laced with yours in something that you thought was platonic but was anything but. You couldn't think with Coriolanus so close to you. His lips inches away from yours as he goes on and on about the history of Panem.

How the fuck did he manage to make history sexy was a mystery never to be known.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 — then it happened, you snapped, leaning forward to brush your lips against Coryo. And Clemensia begins to press her lips on your nape. Her arm around your waist, trapping you in like a snake's hold.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ .

nsfw drabble ahead

It seemed like Clemmie had you trapped between her and Coryo. Her fingers unbutton the silk blouse she had gifted you. Her cold hand now pressed against your bare, hot-to-touch skin. She whispered to you, “My sweet doll. Kiss him back, nice and slow. There you go darling, you're so smart.”

You moan into Coriolanus's mouth as your cunt begins to soak through your panties from Clemmie's words. Coriolanus bites your lower lip, his body pressed against yours. His hands on your face, controlling the kiss, dominating you with no chance of escape. He doesn't break the kiss even when you can feel yourself getting dizzy from the lack of air.

You gasp when he finally does break the kiss. Clemensia by then had already unbuttoned your blouse and unclasped your lacy black bra (also gifted by her). Coriolanus felt his cock throb as he saw Clemmie's freshly manicured hands knead your breasts, making sure to pinch your nipples to get them hard and perky.

You looked like a slut like this. Your lips are swollen, your eyes wide and your body is aroused. He could feel his eyes darken with lust and he leaned down to begin kissing and licking your right breast while he left the left one to Clemensia's mentations.

He sucks your nipple, making sure his tongue swirls around the bud. He pays special attention, nipping the bud occasionally, savoring the cries of pleasure leaving your lips.

Meanwhile, Clemensia was pinching your other nipple, her free hand trailing down your body to free you of your skirt, along with the soaking wet lace panties. She giggles as her fingers swipe at your wet folds. Her digits gather your arousal, all sticky and white. “Taste this, Coryo,” she whispered, interrupting Coryo from putting hickeys all over your chest.

Coriolanus gladly accepts your taste on his tongue, he diligently licks up your juices from Clemensias’ fingers. The sight makes your pussy clench around nothing, a moan of pure want escaping your lips.

“Loosen her up for me, Clemmie,” he said as she pulls out her fingers to begin teasing your pussy again. Clemensia gladly agreed with Coryo. She whispered to you, her lips brushing against your ears, “Next time, I will bring the strap I specifically ordered for you, sweetheart. So it won't be only Coriolanus’ cock you feel next time.”

You couldn't reply anything, not when her fingers began to dip inside your gummy walls. Stretching you out to take Coriolanus's cock. She begins to thrust in her fingers inside your walls, with a gentle pace. Her thumb rubbing at your clit. She crooks her fingers perfectly, her fingertips rubbing at your g-spot, making you see stars as your body jolts from ecstasy.

Coriolanus calms you down with soft kisses on your lips. “She's good at this, huh?” He coos at you, the tip of his tongue catching the teardrops that fall from your eyes. “But you can take it, pet. You're made for us after all. Our doll.” You nod at his words. You would do anything to please them both.

“She’s ready, Coryo,” Clemensia said. She takes her fingers outside of your warm, wet walls and presses her fingertips to your lips until you take her digits inside. You moan around her fingers as your tongue tastes you for the time.

Coriolanus nods at Clemmie's words. He was positioning his cock to your entrance. He smirks at you. “You're gonna take it like a good girl,” he whispered, no, commands you. And with that, he thrusts into you. His cock now kissing your cervix, your pussy pulsating around him and your gummy walls burning from the stretch.

Clemensia eats up your scream, covering your lips with hers as Coryo lets you settle down. You whine, Clemmie's hands holding you down and Coriolanus's hands around your hips, gripping so tight that bruises would bloom soon.

It doesn't take long for Coriolanus to begin to roll his hips, his dick pounding into your heat without care for your pleasure. Meanwhile, Clemensia's hands roam all over your body, pinching and kneading the flesh. Her lips never leave yours. She occasionally leaned back whispered praises about how good you are, and how much she will stretch you out with her strap, and how good she will eat you after this. Each of her filthy fantasies had your cunt clenching around Coryo's cock and he groans, his lips attaching themselves to your pulse point on your neck.

He doesn't pay you or Clemensia any attention, fucking pussydrunk he was, merely chasing his pleasure from your cunt. With Clemmie's constant praises, her hands worshiping you, and Coriolanus sucking the darkest hickey on your skin, his cock stroking your walls, his cockhead grazing your spongy spot inside your walls with every thrust.

It didn't take you long to have your eyes roll back, your body turning into jelly. Coriolanus groans as his thrusts turn sloppy. He cums inside of you with no warning, his body falling on top of you as he gasps. He whines, “Such a good girl. Such sweet cunt, that's my doll.”

Clemmie chuckles, looking at your fucked out state. She was going to have fun with you as soon as you gained some energy. And she tells you exactly that as she gets up to bring you and Coryo glasses of water.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚 .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𐙚

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[amourane]

falling for you

pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

genre: fluff, college au

w/c: 2.6k

summary: in which soonyoung struggles to ask you out on a date.

warnings: none!

a/n: if you saw the first post u didn't cuz tumblr made a mess of it and now i gotta repost it TT

"Jihoon!" A voice hissed from behind him. "Jihoon, here! Behind you!" He spun around to face...a bush. 

"When did plants learn how to talk?"

"It's me you idiot!" A hand shot out grabbing Jihoon's arm, pulling him into the bush. Soonyoung had twigs, leaves and something that looked like a ladybug but no one could ever be so sure. He was fiddling with the hem of his sweater, his cheeks bright red. “I just saw Y/n!” 

“So?” Soonyoung’s eyes bulged incredulously like Jihoon was supposed to know why his best friend looked like he had been living in the wild for a week. 

“Jihoon, you don’t just reply with ‘so’ and make it some question. You should know this!” Soonyoung shook his friend by his shoulders, squishing his cheeks painfully. “Obviously it’s because I saw her walk by and obviously I went up to talk to her but obviously I fell. I don’t even know how I fell and I was going to stand back up and continue to talk to her but she was already gone. And I have this huge stain.” He pointed to the brownish green patch on his white cotton sweater. “Everything’s just a mess!”

“Okay first of all, calm down Shakespeare.” Jihoon rolled his eyes, picking his best friend up. He tugged the sweater over Soonyoung’s head. “You could’ve just taken this off, you’ve got a shirt underneath anyway. And it’s been a week and you still haven’t asked her out?”

“Well, it’s hard alright.” Soonyoung nibbled his bottom lip. “Also Mingyu’s always around her and I can never seem to get her alone.”

“Now you’re just making excuses.”

Jihoon knew his best friend. He knew Soonyoung. If Soonyoung wanted something he’d probably fight the world for it. He remembered that one time he’d been so desperate to win Mario Kart against Jihoon that he’d dumped his water all over him. Jihoon was positively fuming, not because he’d lost but because Soonyoung had gotten his favourite shirt wet. 

Needless to say, Kwon Soonyoung would eat avocados for the rest of his life if it meant he’d get to ask you out. That was why it was weird that the guy who could probably fight zombies single handedly in an apocalypse couldn’t ask a cute girl out. 

“Hey what’s this?” Jihoon reached for the piece of paper hanging out of Soonyoung’s pocket. The boy flushed red, trying to grab the paper back from Jihoon. When he realised it was no use he slumped back a pout evident on his face. 

“You’re not allowed to judge me-”

“You really are a dork.” Jihoon snorted, examining the A3 piece of paper with ‘ASKING Y/N OUT’ scrawled on the top in big black marker. The page was filled with annotations and little diagrams that were all coloured in neatly. All the possibilities were drafted out, some more silly than others. “You were thinking of taking her to NASA?!” 

Soonyoung’s ears burned. He squirmed. “I mean it’s always a possibility but I think that would kind of ruin me.”

Jihoon watched as his best friend avoided his gaze, fingers anxiously fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smiled. He’d never seen Soonyoung this nervous to ask a girl out. It was oddly endearing. He continued to scan the paper, a little shocked that Soonyoung had put so much effort into this plan. 

So this was definitely not a little crush. 

//

“Okay listen.” Jihoon grabbed Soonyoung’s shoulders. They were currently outside the classroom you were in. He had devised this plan perfectly so that Soonyoung would actually ask you out without embarrassing himself. “Y/n’s going to come out here in approximately five minutes. You’re going to walk up to her and say ‘are you free this Saturday?’ and then she’ll say yes and then BAM instant date!” He clapped his hands together for exaggerated effect. 

“Jihoon, where are my flowers? And I can't be wearing this!” Soonyoung grabbed his black hoodie. “I can’t ask Y/n out like this. We need a suit and I need roses and some type of confectionery to win her over!”

Jihoon blinked like an owl. C-Confectionary?! Who the hell speaks like that anymore? Clearly Soonyoung had been watching too many romance movies. “You don’t need flowers or some fancy clothes to win Y/n over. You just need you, she likes you, not some dolled up Barbie.”

“It’s actually Ken who’s the main male-”

“Oh look here she comes.” He pushed Soonyoung hard. The poor boy stumbled clumsily, promptly bashing into you. He had to stop doing that. “Go get her!” Was all Soonyoung heard before he felt his soul die. 

You held Soonyoung steady. A small giggle left your lips. He blushed. You were even cuter today. Which was normally impossible but you were obviously special. The sweet smile you gave him nearly had him fainting. 

What was it Jihoon had said again? Oh yes, ask you out. He could do this.

“Did you need something Soonyoung?” 

Your voice was gentle and soft like a marshmallow. He could feel himself melting just at your words. Nope can’t do this. Soonyoung nearly spun around but when he caught sight of Jihoon’s deadly glare he retreated. Jihoon wasn’t someone you wanted to get angry. Guess he was going to have to do this.

“I...um…” He waved his arms around pathetically. It didn’t help that you were looking at him so innocently. “T-This Saturday you free...?” Soonyoung wanted the ground to swallow him whole. His cheeks burn bright red and he coughs. Not only did he completely butcher the English language but his voice cracked. Cracked! 

“I’m free this Saturday.” You grinned, eyes twinkling. Soonyoung felt his heart flutter. “I’ll text you okay?” You tucked a piece of paper into his hand before waving at him as you caught up to Mingyu. He watched as the two of you talked, you bursting into a fit of giggles, blushing.

The whole situation had happened so quickly it had made his head spin. A loud smack on his back brought Soonyoung back to reality. Jihoon stood behind him with a proud grin on his face. 

“Now we’ve just got to get you through this date.”

//

Soonyoung checked his watch for what felt like the upteenth time. It read, 11:13. He had said to meet him at 11 o’clock but maybe he was just early. Maybe you were stuck in traffic or something. He had spent about half an hour picking his outfit, with help from Jihoon of course because he could never decide on anything. 

It did look a little pathetic. Soonyoung sighed. Did you stand him up? You wouldn’t be that mean, would you?

“Soonyoung!” You were panting behind him, looking as if you had just run a marathon. Your chest heaved. “I'm so sorry. I lost track of time and everything kind of just went haywire-”

“I-It’s okay.” Soonyoung squeaked, wringing his hands. His eyes tried not to drift towards your chest. You were wearing a bright yellow sundress that hugged your body, little flowers dotted all over. The thin straps on your shoulders were tied in little bows at the top. He swallowed. 

“You’re not upset?” Your eyes were wide. The familiar scent of your jasmine perfume wafted to Soonyoung's nose and he shook his head. He could never be upset with you, that’d be ridiculous. You smiled. “Well, where are we heading?” 

He gave you a small grin. To say that Soonyoung has connections with people was an understatement. He had connections with everyone. That sounded a bit weird but everyone knew Soonyoung. It wasn’t like the town was small or anything, he was just known by everyone. Even the grumpy old lady that sold newspapers knew him.

Now normally he would have a plan for this, it was all written down. Sadly, Jihoon had ripped it up and threw it in the bin. Apparently having a plan was lame. Totally untrue, it was great to be prepared. 

“It’s a surprise.” 

//

“Oh my god!” You nearly tumbled to the ground at your shock. “How did you even manage to get in here? Isn’t this the Hong’s?” 

In front of you were rows beyond rows of strawberry bushes. The field seemed to stretch on forever. There was only one family in town that owned so many acres of land, the Hongs. You’d met their son, Joshua Hong, a couple of times at campus but everyone knew their strawberry fields were off limits. 

“My mum’s friends with Mrs Hong, used to go over to hers every week with apple pie. Me and Shua were friends for a while but then he got caught up in music and me, dancing. We still talk and I was lucky enough to get us in.” Soonyoung shrugs. “And it’s strawberry picking season.”

“Most boys would bring their date out to a fancy restaurant.” You picked a strawberry, popping into your mouth, savouring the sweet taste. “I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this.”

Soonyoung tried not to smile too wide. He couldn't contain his excitement. At first he wanted to take you to a lot of places in one day but Jihoon had said it was impossible to take you to the cinema, zoo, aquarium, ice cream shop and laser tag in 24 hours. So he settled on strawberries. Everyone loved strawberries, plus it was free because he knew Joshua. 

You slowly intertwined both of your fingers, holding his hand. Soonyoung felt his cheeks flare an embarrassing red as his eyes trailed down to both of your clasped hands. He felt his heart beat rapidly in his chest. There wasn’t a lot he could do but try not to faint. 

A small smirk crept up on his lips as he handed you a basket. “We’ll make a deal.” 

“A deal?” You looked at him confused, taking the basket. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s say, whoever picks the most strawberries decides where we’re having lunch and they pay as well.”

“Chivalry really is dead.” You rolled your eyes. If Kwon Soonyoung wanted to bet that he would pick more strawberries than you, then he best be prepared for war. You contemplated the thought. If you were to win you’d probably empty his pockets but if he won he would empty your pockets. It’s a 50/50 chance. 

You must have stayed silent for a tad too long because Soonyoung grew worried. 

“W-We don’t have to if you don't want to-” 

“Fine. No rules, just as many as we can pick.” You shook his hand, a playful grin on your face. “Be prepared to lose Kwon.” You dashed away.

“Hey, you’re cheating!” 

“No rules remember!” 

Soonyoung stood still, mouth open like a goldfish. He finally snapped out of it, chasing after you, determined to win. There was no way he was going to let you beat him. 

Or maybe he will. 

//

Soonyoung grasped his basket tightly. It was already nearly full with ruby red strawberries. No doubt they were sweet and juicy. He hadn’t seen you since you left him and it was slightly worrying. Hopefully you were fine. Hopefully.

"Y/n?" He calls over the bushes. No reply. Soonyoung trudged forward, still looking for you. A twig snapped from behind him. "Y/n?" He spun around only to see you reaching a hand inside his basket plucking a strawberry and stuffing it into your mouth. 

"They're really yummy, I should thank Joshua when I see him." You giggled, turning to flee again but this time Soonyoung grabbed your hand. A small squeak escaped your lips. 

"Don't you dare run away." His tone was light and teasing. You shrieked when he popped one of your strawberries into his mouth. "No rules remember." He smirked, playfully flicking your forehead. You threw a strawberry at him which he dodged. You pelt another and another. One hits him and you stifle your laughs. 

Soonyoung pulled you forward and you shut up. He leaned forward, breath fanning your face. You instinctively fluttered your eyes shut. 

"I'll see you later." He whispered, causing you to snap open your eyes, mouth dropping to the ground. You watched dumbfounded as he ran away. What happened to the shy Soonyoung?

//

“I only lost because you ate all of mine.” You pouted, folding your arms defiantly. It wasn’t your fault that he was so devastatingly cute that you just had to offer him some of your strawberries. He stole them from you, even if he insisted that you gave them willingly. 

“You’re in denial Y/n.” Soonyoung skipped happily next to you, swinging his full basket. Your pout deepened. “Now where’s the most expensive place to have lunch?” He pulled his phone out, tapping a few times before a smug grin took over his face.

“You’re going to empty my pockets.” You whined. 

Soonyoung grinned. “Come on we’ve got to catch the train otherwise we’ll be late. I’ll pay for the tickets.” A small smile flitted across your face before it reverted back into a pout. You huffed, letting Soonyoung clasped your hand as the two of you walked away. “If it makes you feel any better, you can have my strawberries.”

“I just wanna know what was with the personality change back then?”

His cheeks flushed bright red. “I can be confident too…”

“Don’t doubt it. I’ve seen you dance.” The look he gives you has you rolling your eyes. “You’re a totally different person when you’re in the studio.”

His cheeks flushed bright red again causing you to burst into a fit of giggles. 

//

“So what you’re saying is that the bill is too expensive and right now you’re hiding in the bathroom and, might I remind you, you left poor Soonyoung to fend for himself.” Mingyu said through the phone.

“It sounds worse when you say it aloud.”

“You can’t just ditch him Y/n, what are you going to do, climb out a window and escape?” He hissed. You stared at the tiny window at the back. If you did it right you could squeeze through. “If you’re thinking about climbing out of a window I will stop feeding you my brownies.”

“Hey hey hey. No need to deprive my need for brownies Gyu, have some respect.” He snorted, muttering under his breath. “I can still hear what you’re saying.” 

“Good.”

Okay maybe running inside the bathroom and hiding in a stall wasn’t going to solve all of our problems. But the bill was hefty and you would probably land yourself in prison if you did manage to pay for it. Also you couldn’t climb out of the window because you really did need those brownies. 

“I want you to go out there and say you can’t pay for it and ask Soonyoung to pay for it.”

“Gyu are you crazy?”

“You’re the one in a bathroom stall, not me.” And with that he hung up leaving you alone. You could do this. It was not that hard, not that hard.  

Soonyoung was still sitting at the table where you left him but this time all the plates had been cleared and he was staring at his phone. He looked up and smiled. “Thought you were gonna do something illegal. Don’t worry, I paid for everything.”

“D-Did you rob a bank before we came here?” Your mouth was hanging open. That was the only option, unless he really did have enough money but everyone your age was practically broke so…

Soonyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “You didn’t actually think I was going to let you pay for all of that? You’re cute.” 

You were left gaping as he took your hand. What just happened? He said your line, your line. You were meant to call him cute. Soonyoung seemed to sense how confused you were because he shot you a dazzling smile.

“Told you I can be confident.”

[lovely-rubeum]

affirming word.

your first argument with al haitham is one you are sure you’ll never forget. not because of his piercing words and the cold way he stares back at you, but because of his desperate reassurance. the soft way he held you as apologies were uttered, and the gentle way he cared for every tear you shed.

a/n: waah this is my first fic on this account !! cheers ^^

w/c: ~1.5k

warnings: not proof read (im lazy my bad) mentions of arguments, insecurities. hurt/comfort

al haitham has been in maybe, one relationship before this one, you gather. there’s a certain coarseness to the way he approaches love and being in love with you that bleeds with lack of experience. it is not a slight against him, in fact, you’d consider it the furthest from that. you are honored to have been so cherished by someone who claims to not have time for trivial things. if al haitham is good at one thing, beyond mathematics or research or memorization, it is making you feel like you are not and will never be “trivial” to him. he remembers every date, he recalls every small detail, and he does everything he can, even in his busy schedule to make time for you. because you are the one he chose, and you are beyond his preconceptions about the usefulness and reason for “falling in love,” or other trifling activities.

so, when he calls you just that -- useless and pointless and trivial, it stings. and it stings for more than an hour, after the silence has settled in your shared living space and dinner has gone cold. it stings every time he looks at you, unable to control his cold and calculating frustration. even by the time said frustration is no longer directed at you but at himself for getting caught up -- for the escalation to petty insults rather than progress towards a natural solution. even as you both stand up and say you’re sorry for hurting each other and promise to listen and care. you are still left stinging. you ache all over, even as you lie in bed with him, his warm arms pulling your form close as you both whisper declarations of retreat, compromise, and love. you close your eyes and take in his scent, woody, almost a bit musky and just a twinge reminiscent of a well kept library. you would find solace here, but you cannot help but ache. your eyes sting with salt and self-admonishment as you sleep, feeling as though the two of you are left further apart than you were before.

it’s been several days now. the sounds of the bustling streets and the near silence of the akademia’s halls do nothing to comfort your still stirring heart. you see al haitham every day, you tell him you love him every day (because you do, and you’ll be damned before the aftermath of a finished argument tells you that you do not). he echoes the same, but still you think

trivial? were you nothing but pointless and foolish? did your beloved boyfriend, in times of distress, think of you as the very things he swore not to make you feel you were? it hurts to feel distant from him, but you’re sure he hasn’t noticed. in fact, you think it’s better that he hasn’t noticed. he’s a busy, busy man. and, really, he shouldn't be worried about something as frivolous as the way you feel about a pain that’s passed silently for days. you’ll get over it, because you’ve already talked and you love him and that should be enough.

but you forget, that al haitham, while not a fool, is foolishly in love with you. he is a man that gets what he needs and what he wants and when there are obstacles in his path he devises clear plans to avoid them. the only thing he would readily admit to making mistakes over is you. you and your smile that lights up his entire world, you and the way you care for him and challenge his mind in the most electrifying way. you who holds him as he sinks into the depths of his mind, and you who promises him eternity, irrational as that may be. so when you distance yourself, drowning in your own hurt, al haitham is planning. your wounds are like aching scars on his back. prickling with pain and a reminder of his failing, not to himself, but his failing to provide you with the world as you deserve. he sits in his office, stiff and cautious. what on earth could it be that has sent you away from him? what sort of thorns have coated your heart and how should he cut through them to get to you? 

you don’t think much of it, when you’re called into al haitham’s office today. you expect nothing more than an update about his findings. you’ll walk in, say hello, chat for a time until you realize you’ve veered off course and then you’ll depart with timid “i love you”s and you’ll stare into the silence as you hope for the short moment to lift your heart the way it had before it was wounded. you do not expect to see him staring anxiously at the door as you enter. you do not expect him to run a hand through his pretty gray hair and quietly ask you a question.

“could you lock the door?” you do, but you’re holding your breath. dread floods your veins and you cannot help but feel intimidated as he stands and approaches you. in an attempt to flee from your racing mind and heart, you change the subject.

“hi, dear. did you need something? i should have given you the report from—” you’re silenced by the worried look on his face. it’s a foreign expression, one where his shining, always focused eyes dart around you with a mixture of something like fear and hurt, and one where his built arms hang awkwardly at his sides as he figures out what to say first.

“there’s something wrong,” he starts. your breath hitches and you’re forced to break eye contact. al haitham frowns. “please don’t do that. please look at me.” the plea hurts your chest, but you can’t bring yourself to do just that. you try to wave it off.

“there’s nothing—” but the shake in your voice betrays you. he waits for you to open up. for you to take the first step, because your comfort is his priority, but you can tell with the tension in the air that he will cut through if you do not. al haitham gets what he needs, and what he needs more than life is your happiness. you’re sure of that now, as you look back at his expression, endlessly full of concern for you. you can’t bring yourself to lie anymore. “okay, maybe there is something.”

“may i inquire?” he says it so timidly you’d think he’s another person. you can’t stop yourself from sighing. 

“i just… it’s stupid. i don’t think it’s worth making a big deal. i’ll be over it soon.” the deadpan look on his face says otherwise.

“you have been… apart from your usual self. for longer than three nights. i’m worried about you.” al haitham’s admission is shaking, but resolute. his soothing voice quakes just the slightest bit, but he refuses to back down. you cave at his look, just as you always do.

“i‘m just… still hurt. over what you said, when we argued? i didn’t want you to feel bad since we already moved on from the problem but i keep thinking about it and hearing it in my head. you called me trivial.” al haitham pauses, as if recounting the event. you continue. “i know you probably didn’t mean it, but i can’t help but think that maybe…”

“stop,” he says with a gentleness reserved only for you. he places his hands gently on your shoulders while silently asking for permission in his gaze to pull you close. you nod, and suddenly his hand is patting the back of your head softly, as if you’re the most cherished being in the universe itself.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you feel your eyes welling up with tears as he holds you close and admits fault. he pulls away slightly, but only to dry your tears with his thumb.

“you are everything to me. and it was only foolish of me to have allowed things to progress to this point. i would move mountains and slay the worst of foes just to see you happy. i have taken away part of your smile, even for a second. and for that i am so sorry.”

there is a tenderness in his eyes. you couldn’t imagine a more beautiful expression if you tried, and it is then that you realize he is not used to wearing this expression. he is clumsy in the way he squeezes you, and although he is intelligent, he is also inept in maintaining his usual aloofness as he reassures you that you will never be a waste of his time. it is then too, that you notice the fear squandering his composure as he promises to love you for what may be the millionth time.

you relax and while you cry in his arms, you allow al haitham’s affirming word into your heart, never to be shaken again.

[chervbs]

undying devotion — a. ancunin

pairings: astarion ancunin x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: you have a very limited time to free everyone, including duke ravenguard, from the iron throne. It seems easy enough until you realize you may not make it out before gortash destroys the entire prison, and you along with it. dnd with your new but thriving relationship with your vampiric companion, you have more to lose than just your life.

warnings: angst, mega angst, main character death, spoilers for act 3 (specifically the iron throne quest), mentions of c*zador, resurrection, hurt/comfort, happy ending, maybe ooc astarion because I’m still getting used to writing these characters, lmk if I missed any!

a/n: hello my angels! I hope you all enjoy this short little angsty piece I came up with for everyones favorite vampire. anonymous requested some angst for astarion and I immediately thought of this moment that happened in my first playthrough of the game where the only person I couldn't get out of the iron throne was my tav. it was a scary moment until I remembered what my man withers was there for. the characters in the game don't actually have a reaction to tav not making it out so I came up with this. any feed back is greatly appreciated! <3

ao3 link

Of all the battles fought between the crash of the Nautiloid ship and now, the Iron Throne is proving to be potentially the most perilous.

The plan had seemed simple when you all waited for the submersible to dock the underwater prison. Get in, free as many prisoners as possible, and get out. Of course the creatures guarding the prison would be an obstacle, but your party had defeated a plethora of foes before, how difficult could this mission be?

You all shared the sentiment, until the projection of Lord Enver Gortash had made an appearance.

“Aren’t you the intrepid little adventurer?” The man’s smug voice startled everyone aboard, shoulders growing tense and glares growing fierce. “Digging and diving where you don’t belong. And I thought we were friends.”

Astarion watched as you squared your shoulders, looking the projection right in the eyes. “Fuck you, Gortash.” The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, but it didn’t last.

Gortash made it clear that if you continued on your quest, he would destroy the Iron Throne, and you all with it.

You had glanced back, communicating with Astarion, Halsin, and Karlach silently. Each of you wonder if this is worth the stakes. Worth all of the lives that could be lost if you failed. Then you looked at your captain, Redhammer the Deviser, and nodded for him to dock the ship.

“That was a mistake.” Gortash scowled. “When the corpses start to wash up on the shore, remember–you could have prevented all of this.”

There wasn’t much time after you docked to accomplish what you came for, so the four of you climbed the ladder with swiftness. The moment you stepped down, your tadpole began to wriggle as a familiar voice spoke to you.

“Halt. You must act with haste. Duke Ravenguard is held within these walls. He must be extracted.” It was unmistakably Omeluum, the mindflayer you’d made friends with in the Underdark.

You knew there was no time for questions. “Tell me what to do.”

“Duke Ravenguard is held in the security wing. Be careful, there are many hazards. This structure is collapsing. Act with speed, act with efficiency. Good luck.”

Swords, arrows and spells were used to get you all through the prison with haste. The Sahugin guards were inconvenient, but not the priority. You only attacked when they were in your way, and dodged them the rest of the time.

Astarion and Halsin were able to make it to Duke Ravenguard, freeing and healing him while also taking down the obstacles sent by Mizora. The security was the closest to the center of the ship and the two men made quick work of the guards still lingering there.

You and Karlach had each taken separate wings, hoping to free as many people as you could. Karlach freed the few prisoners in her wing before she came across Omeluum. Once he was freed, he was able to teleport the two of them back onto the submersible.

It was only as you fought your way through yours that you regretted not bringing someone else with you. The wing you took held the most prisoners and it seemed as if every guard your companions didn’t defeat decided to flock to the area.

Time was running out and you knew it. Your tadpole wriggled again.

“You must return. The prison will be destroyed any moment now.” Omeluum warned. His voice was monotone as any other mind flayer, but you could sense veiled concern.

You took one last look at the crowd of Sahugin in front of you, your heart pounding in your chest. You lacked enough energy to be able to misty step back to the entrance, and there was no time to look for a useful scroll.

“Did everyone make it on board?” You asked, slashing the guards in front of you.

“Indeed.”

You sighed, tears welling. “Then tell them I’m sorry.”

Astarion was the last to climb aboard the submersible after Halsin. Water sprayed onto the platform as the structure began to give way. Halsin reached down to grab his forearms, pulling him the rest of the way. He’d just barely began to search for you within the ship when Karlach spoke up.

“Where’s Tav?” She asked shakily, as if she had already realized the answer.

Astarion’s eyes widened, as did everyone’s. “No.” He whispered, darting over to the window.

There was a split second before the explosion, the force of it rumbling within the water. “No!” He cried, knees buckling as he collapsed.

Karlach slapped a hand over her mouth, tears already falling from her eyes like a waterfall. Halsin bowed his head, sad eyes closing as Astarion lets out a heart wrenching scream.

It didn’t matter to him that his companions had never seen him so distraught, not even after he’d delivered the killing blow to Cazador. No, this pain was entirely different.

This pain was like having his heart ripped out, then his soul extracted then his body mutilated. Every part of him ached in a way he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. Though it shouldn’t surprise him. In the time since meeting, you’d taught him many things about himself. And even in death it seems he’s still learning from you.

Astarion was more silent than Karlach and Halsin had ever seen him. As they received their reward from the Wavemother and talked to Duke Ravenguard, Astarion dragged behind them, silent tears escaping consistently.

Only once they reached camp did Astarion seem to return to his mind, paying no attention to the surprised and concerned stares from everyone else. He was only focused on storming over to the camps undead resident.

Withers did not looked fazed nor surprised by the vampires rage, closing the tome he had been focused on the staring blankly.

“Bring them back.” He demanded, voice thick with emotion. “Bring Tav back.”

Astarion faintly heard a few gasps from the crowd that had gathered behind him, the rest of the party hearing of your death for the first time.

The creatures hollow, echoed voice responded. “There is a cost to do so.”

Astarion’s jaw clenched. “What is it?”

“A matter of coin.” Withers replied simply.

A pale hand reached back into his travel pack to pull out the pouch of coin Astarion had collected throughout your travels. He shoved it against the undead’s chest. “Here!” He snarled. “Take it! Take all the coin we have, I don’t care how much it takes.”

Withers calmly opened the pouch, peaking inside. “That won’t be necessary. This is more than enough.” He said, dropping the pouch to the ground. “I recommend keeping thy distance for a moment.”

Everybody took a step back besides Astarion, only until Karlach placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and pulled.

Withers lifted a bony hand, speaking his words like a prayer. “By doom and dusk, I strike thy name from the archives. Rise!”

There was a brief flash of light that had everyone shielding their eyes. In a matter of seconds, you appeared, stumbling like you’d been thrown back on earth. Which, to your credit, is what it felt like.

Your breaths were quick and heavy as they had been in your final moments, and you patted your body to ensure you really were alive.

There wasn’t much time for you to linger in your thoughts before you were essentially tackled, toned arms coming around you in a crushing embrace. As you heard the sound of weeping, you registered that it was your love who had lunged at you.

A choked sound escaped your lips before you could even realize you yourself had started to cry, arms wrapping around Astarion’s torso.

Through your foggy eyes, you could faintly see your other companions standing a few feet away, some wiping tears and others smiling somberly at you. But they were far from your mind at the moment.

You could only focus on the man in your arms, the both of you collapsing to the ground. “My love.” He whimpered out, surely leaving fingernail markings with how hard he was gripping you. “My little love, I thought you gone for good.”

A watery chuckle escaped, one of your hands coming to lace within the white curls of his hair. “I’m so sorry, Star. Never. I could never leave you.” You sobbed.

His embraced loosened, hands traveling to your face and pulling your forehead against his. His crimson gazed peered into yours, full of desperation. As if he would never be able to look into them again.

“I have never known pain,” He whispered to you hoarsely. “Like what I felt when that wretched place exploded.”

Your lips quivered with another onslaught of emotions. You placed your own palms against his cheeks, thumbs stroking the smooth, alabaster skin. “I never would have made it on time.” You sniffed. “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

He shook his head lightly, removing his forehead and replacing it with his lips instead. He pressed a kiss there, then to your cheek, and then a final one to your lips, lingering again as if it would be the last kiss you would ever share. You only separated once oxygen became a concern.

“The others are waiting.” You sniffed, though you made no move to leave his side.

“Let them.” Astarion said, a small, relieved grin growing on his face. And you did.

The rest of the world could wait until the end of time for you to part from your Star.”

[shidouryusm]

✿༝༚༝༚ Satoru: 1 You: 0 ✿༝༚༝༚

content -> fluffy fluff, banters, teasing and touching, making out, mentions of hickey at the end, implied sexual innuendo at the end.

w/c- 1.6k

a/n -> Happy birthday to my blue eyed goober, I love this lil shit till infinity. @pastelle-rabbit to answer your ask more thoroughly hehehehe. And to every Gojo fucker, hope y'all enjoy this once again extremely self indulgent piece with me and let's celebrate our pookie's birthday. Gojover? hell nah what's that

dividers by @/cafekitsune

“Babyyy, I’m hereee. Stop looking at your phone”, you hear Satoru’s whines muffled in your sweater. Your arms wrap around his neck as you hold the phone above his head, which in fact you were using to post for his birthday.

“Just a min, ‘toru.” you murmur softly, using one of your hands to thread through his cloud like hair. Your nails gently graze his scalp, starting from his undercut, as they smoothe over the prickly skin, reaching to the tufts of white candy floss that sits atop, repeating the circling motion again and again. Satoru hums satisfyingly at the feeling of your hands combing through them, comfortable enough to shut up momentarily and nuzzling himself further into your chest. You smile at his clinginess, dipping down to press a light peck on the top of his head. 

Your nostrils fills with the sweet scent of shampoo, the fragnance carrying undertones of candy and molten marshmallow. You wonder where he even gets these and how much do they cost? 

His hands envelopes your back as you half lay on the couch with him plopping himself right on top of you, his tall frame settles between your legs while his head nests snugly on your chest. You tangle one of your leg around the back of his shin. A mess of limbs under the thin blanket that covers both your lower bodies. 

Outside, the sun shlyly peeks from the greyish clouds that wrings out sudden downpours every now and then, forcing both of you to coop up inside the house. 

Not that Satoru was complaining at all, until now, when you shifted your attention from your grown ass boyfriend to your phone. He scoffs mockingly at you, still immersed deep in your phone. What even is there in that godforsaken phone? His blue eyes maliciously eyes that rectangular device. He lays on your chest, silently devising plans on having you all to himself, till the cogs of his brain click.

He shifts, raising himself slightly under the pretext of  “just getting comfortable” so that his face now nestles the crook of your neck. Warm breaths tickles the skin under your ear to which you squirm a little, 

“Toru-” you warn. From your peripheral vision you see him curled up over you, pulling the warmth of your body towards him. His face painted with an expression of serenity as if the only thing in his mind is to be bask in your silent embrace. 

“Hmmm? What did I do?” faux innocent laced his words. You roll your eyes, one of your head still tangled between his locks. He waits for a while, letting you fall into a fake sense of security before  his hands that were wrapped around your lower back start their journey to explore the expanse of your back. His touch is soft, leaving an electrifying sensation through your thin sweater. Almost ticklish and tantalising. One of his hands reach below, long fingers playing with the hem of your sweater, daring to slip underneath it. 

You try your best to not give into whatever mischief his brain has cooked up. Even though, you know, you should have given him the attention, considering it’s his birthday. 

But, since he had to be a menace, two can play the game, right? 

Your attention has now fully shifted to your phone, the cat reel that was playing became ten times more interesting to watch. You even decided to up a notch, removing your hand from his hair to grab the phone with both hands. 

“So, this is how it’s gonna be?” you hear him challengingly mutter, the removal of your hands acting as a declaration of silent war between you two. You dared not to look at him, although you were certain that his face is curled up in his trademarked smirk, plotting to win. 

But if he’s Gojo Satoru, you are Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend. No way in hell you are backing out from this little game you both started literally out of nowhere. 

“Gonna be what, ‘Toru? What did I do?,” you parrot his words back at him, feigning innocence while still peering at your phone. Your jaw muscle twitches, a smile threatening to break out. 

Satoru quirks an eyebrow, amused by your witty banter. One of the many things that made him fall head over heels for you – your ability to match his energy at any given moment.

 Little challenges sparking up between you guys often, keeping the ultimate fire of passion alive. 

“Well, if you say so then,” Satoru breathes, his hands now fully getting into work, as they roam around your body. his other hand trails down to your hips, studying the way his palm bumps over the dips and curves. 

The hand that was fiddling with the hem has slipped inside, resting over the waistline of your sweatpants. You feel your heart race as his blunt nails scrape over your skin ghostily, hooking one finger under to pull the elastic. He snickers against your skin before releasing the fabric, letting it snap against your skin. 

You let out a small gasp at his ministrations. From the corner of your eyes you can make out this insufferable prick grinning at you, still resting his face on your neck. 

“Low blow, ‘toru.” you narrow your eyes, determined to still not make any eye contact as you whisper under your breath, which apparently he caught on. 

You hear him hum, “hmmmm? should have known before removing your hand, baby,” his satirical voice vibrates through as you scoff.

“Should have kept your hands to yourself in the first place.” 

“Shouldn’t have ignored me in the first place. Y’know it’s impossible for me to not touch you, why demand such a thing?” with that, he lets his fingertips place fluttering touches all over your skin, without the obstruction of your sweater. You hiss, trying to squirm away from his cold fingertips but this sturdy, 6 foot giant had you locked under his hold, causing you to fail horribly.

“You’re cold! Get your hands off me.” you grumble. Satoru pretends to not hear anything, continuing to draw random lines with his fingers all over your lower back and sides. At times, fully planting his palm on your back, the frigidness making you gasp and falter. 

“More the reason for me to touch you. You’re hot, baby.” he quips, to which you fall silent. How does he have the answer to everything you say? 

“I’m not gonna leave my phone nor will I react now. You’re gonna lose the challenge”, you huff to which he shrugs his shoulder,

“Nah, I’d win.” Satoru says coolly, resuming his exploration with his hands.

You fall back to your phone, finding it difficult to concentrate on whatever is playing on the phone with the way Satoru’s hands glides over your skin. The pads of his fingers skim through your stomach. Even though they are cold, the lingering touch leaves wamr blaze in its wake. Your heart races sporadically as you anticipate where his hands might move next. 

Although, your face says otherwise, making the most sour expression possible as you stare daggers into your phone. Satoru has always noticed every minuscule details and changes in your body, so this definitely didn’t go under his radar. 

He decides it’s time to dial it up a bit. Afterall, he’s the birthday boy.

With his left hand which was already underneath your sweater, he continued tracing over your skin, while his right hand snaked up to the neckline of your sweater right where his face is currently planted to tug it down, exposing more of your skin in front of him. The veil of cold from the weather outside causes goosebumps to flesh out in your skin, catching Satoru’s eyes as he admires them with his piercing gaze before his mouth puckers in a “o”, cool air slid over your skin from his mouth. 

“T-toru, stop it.” your resolves crumbles like your voice. 

“Are you denying the birthday boy, baby? Don’t hurt me like that.” He whispers against your skin, a mocking bent in his tone as he feigns sadness. You debate whether to succumb to his touches or strangle him.

You breathe through your mouth, attempting to gain composure which you are notoriously failing to do. Satoru’s lips presses against your skin, his lips etched with a grin as he places countless pecks throughout the crevice of your neck and shoulder.

“So fucking pretty, still can’t believe you’re like all mine. Why were you ignoring me, baby. Need you always so fucking much.” Satoru’s gravelly voice vibrates through your skin, the tingles straight shooting down your spine. His hand has now gripped your side like a vice, fingers indenting deep into the skin.

 He groans against your shoulder as he press a kiss there, finding his way back to your neck again, millions of kisses littering your skin. He reaches under your ear, his teeth nipping lightly at the lobe.

Meanwhile, his hands push your body up, towards him, grinding his lower body against yours.

A soft whimper dares to escape your lips before you suppress it. Hands turning a little wobbly, and you hate how heat courses through your veins as Satoru turns your whole being into a mushy puddle against himself.

“Give up, darling.” Satoru whispers in your ear, before his mouth catches hold of your skin. His teeth scrapes the skin, sucking it fervently, while his back pushes you flush against him, letting you feel all the ridges and contour of his skin. His heart rhymes with your, palpitating with galloping beats. A soft whine escapes Satoru's throat at this steamy turn of events.

This had to be the last straw that broke the camel’s back as your phone slides from your hand, falling somewhere on the floor. Your head tips back and a breathy moan ricochets the room as Satoru duly runs his tongue over the hickey that prickled a little.  

You hear Satoru’s simpering resonating around the room as he pulls you up, now seated on the couch with you straddling his lap

“See, told you I’d win.” his hand caresses the newly formed mark that will definitely take a concealer or turtleneck to hide.

“You prick. Fuck you. You did that on purpose.” 

“Tell me where it says I can’t do that.” he muses, shutting you up once again. Your lips jut in a pout as you stare at him. 

His eyes are so blue, glossing with the reflection of the rain pouring outside. His forehead veiled with your most favourite part of his body – those fluffy tufts of hair and his lips curl into a toothy smile. The eyes brimming with love and admiration for you.

Even as he weaseled his way out with an upper hand, you don't feel any of it. Rather, you drink in the way he looks so haphazard. So messy. So homely.

Your hands reach to cup his face, feeling the physicality of his beauty before you lean down to press a kiss.

“The least I can do for you birthday is to let you win, I guess. Happy Birthday, sexy.” you murmur against his lips, taking them between your own.

 He returns the kiss with the same vigour, his hands are now out of the sweater, holding your back for support, whilst pulling you close to him. 

The flavour of your strawberry balm etches itself in Satoru’s mind and he never wishes to stop from relishing the taste of your soft lips. A calm havoc wreck his insides as he thanks whatever lies above for granting him the biggest gift of his life – you.

You break apart from him, his eyes deepening their shade of blue and his face carrying a lingering expression of passion. His chest heaves from deep breaths as you stare at him with confusion. He motions his eyes downwards, making you realise what’s the issue.

“Mind helping me out?” 

a/n -> God I'd commit felonies to experience this especially with a 6'feet, white haired, blue eyed, freakishly handsome and annoying blockhead.

[stariiesz]

୨⎯𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝙰𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ⎯୧

May 28th, 2017

“I… I like you Satoru.” The words fell out of your mouth suddenly.

It was the last day of high school. A bittersweet chapter in your life. Satoru, who had been your long-time crush, was perfect. Everybody loved him, and could you blame them? After all, He was popular, attractive, athletic, and very extroverted. He was everything you weren’t. You weren’t exactly popular, you were bad at sports, and you were very introverted.

He was so nice to everyone. Everyone that is but you. And you're not sure why he seems to hate you, he just does. Every time he sees you in the hallway he scoffs and rolls his eyes as if you're the bane of his existence. And because of Satoru’s open dislike for you, it influenced others to not like you too.

Not many people wanted to talk to you or hang out. The few times you had interaction with other class mates was for cheating of you or for school projects, not that they wanted to partner with you by choice. Sure you were kind of an outcast but it never really bothered you. You could care less what your other low-life classmates thought. Only one opinion mattered, and that was Satoru’s of course. Though, you were quite sure that man could care less about you.

So why were you now confessing such feelings to Satoru? You knew you weren’t going to see him again after high school, and you didn’t want to keep these feelings hidden away forever, so you devised a plan. You were going to walk up to him, confess, then bail before he could laugh at your pathetic feelings for him. It did take a lot of courage as you were stepping out of your comfort zone, but you needed him to know how you felt even if he didn’t feel the same which he probably wouldn’t. Even though he and his friends would laugh every time you walked by, and even though you were nowhere near his league, you still liked him. So you would give it a chance.

April 12th, 2017

You applied for a bunch of colleges in Japan and got in a few. However, Kyoto University is the one that you want to go to most. You were very excited to go because that was the college Satoru was going to, meaning you had a chance of running into him from time to time! You were feeding into your own delusions because if that ever did happen, Satoru wouldn’t have a change of heart and start liking you. He’d be just as rude and probably ignore you too. But a girl can dream, right?

While walking through the halls of the dreaded place called school, you happen to overhear a conversation between Satoru and some of his friends which completely change the plans you had made.

“Yeah, I got into a bunch!” Satoru said to his friends. “I really wanted to go to Kyoto and all but now I think I wanna go to the University of Tokyo!” Satoru said.

Your heart dropped. If he wasn’t going to Kyoto that meant you had no chance of seeing him in college. So these could be the last few weeks you could see him. Even though he despises you, being at the same college gave you a chance to at least see him. But now that was ruined.

“Oh Satoru, you’re going to the University of Tokyo too?” Adina asked as she put her hands on his broad shoulders. Adina was not very fond of you at all. She would even take it as far as to purposely bump into you just to humiliate you, but once again, it really didn’t bother you.

Adina turned to give you the nastiest look. “Uhh can we help you?” She asked you with an annoyed tone. At this point, Satoru was also staring at you. You ignored her comment and continued walking along.

As you walked the cold realization of him not going to the same college set in. This made you think of some way to see him after school ended. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. So if you weren’t gonna see him after school ended the least you could do was confess and get these feelings you’ve had since freshman year out, right?

May 28th, 2017

Satoru was cleaning out his locker and signing the yearbooks of the usual classmate. You waited for the small crowd by him to die down so you could talk to him. When he noticed you come up. He rolled his eyes and scoffed upon seeing you. “What do you want?” He sighed as he put another textbook in a bag and eyed your figure.

You ignored his attitude as you were used to it and cleared your throat as you gathered up all the courage you had to confess. It was now or never. This could, no it probably would be the last time you had a chance to talk to Satoru. So you had to do it.

“I… I like you Satoru..” You said, feeling the relief after getting the confession of your chest. “And I know.. I know you don’t feel the same, I know I annoy you for some reason but I just..I needed to tell you before we go our separate ways.”

He was caught off guard when you confessed. He stopped mid-action turning over to you with a confused look on his face. His eyes widened upon hearing your confession. He opened his mouth to speak but you ran off before he could reject you, or so you thought. Unbunonnced to you he tried to run after you.

“Hey wait up!” He called after you before he ran into his friend group.

“Hey man, where are you speeding off to?” His friend asked. “Come on, let's go get something to eat to celebrate!”

Satoru looked back to see if you were there but you were gone. He sighed and then turned back to his friends with a small smile.

“Sure.” He replied walking off with them.

May 29th, 2017

Graduation day.

It was awkward when you and Satoru met eyes during the ceremony. You quickly looked away but he kept staring which you weren’t aware of. After the ceremony, you met up with your family and tried to leave as quickly as possible as you didn’t want to run into Satoru. There was a party being hosted by one of the popular boys which a lot of people were attending, including Satoru, but you weren’t invited so you really had nothing more to stay for.

You glanced at him one more time before leaving. There he was, as beautiful as always. He was laughing with a group of friends and seeing that made you smile. He was happy and that was all that mattered in the end. You savored the moment as it would be the last time you would see Satoru Gojo in all his glory… right?

Master list Next chapter->

1.1k words

Banner creds: @cafekitsune

Next chapter coming soon!

[a-book-of-creatures]

The dragon devouring serpents and the motto unius compendium, alterius stipendium ("the profit of one, the disprofit of others") was attributed to Cesare Borgia, who was seen as a dragon growing in strength by destroying those around him.

Image from Paradin, C. (1557) Devises Héroïques. Jean de Tournes, Lyon.

[hollowdeath]

I just wanna start with saying I think you’re an incredible writer. I found your work recently and can’t stop reading. The way you craft y/n and your storyline, ✨ CHEF’S KISS ✨ absolutely MAGNIFICENT. so that’s first lol before anything else.

I did have a request, if it’s up to your liking!!!! I was thinking of:

(After war)

All throughout their years at Hogwarts (as kind of a golden “quartet”) there was always that would they wouldn’t they vibe between Harry and y/n. They cared a little too much about each other, looked a little too long, got a little too cranky and involved when they dated others. They had quite the falling out after Harry and Ginny got more serious and y/n admitted her feelings and Harry said too late. Fast fwd, Harry and Ginny have since broken up and it’s Ron and Hermione’s wedding. Maybe somehow they get stuck together at the venue or cottage that was rented, somehow stuck before the wedding for hours, stuff goes down, whatever you think, feelings, sexy time, Harry shows her what she’s missed and they finally give in. So much angst, and dirtiness, and yeah 🤷🏽‍♀️ that’s all I got 😂

thank you so much for your request! this was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoy <3

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry were each other's childhood crushes, but things never quite worked out between you two. years later ron & hermione devise a plan to get you to make up just before their wedding.

c/w: alcohol, angst, smut!!!! (penetrative sex)

word count: 7.9k

you had been incredibly overjoyed to open the letter left at your door and see it was an invitation to ron and hermione's wedding. the moving portrait of them holding each other and laughing on the front of the invite made you smile, their faces slightly wrinkled from time. it had been nearly 5 years since you'd last seen them. of course you always meant to keep in contact with everyone after leaving, but it didn't quite work out that way. you had spoken to ron a few times here and there and kept in pretty regular contact with hermione over the years, but you knew it was never going to be the same. not just because of time, but hurt feelings as well.

see, it wasn't just you, ron, and hermione back in school. in fact, people mostly only knew of your group because of one person in particular: harry potter.

harry and ron had been sitting in their train car on the way to hogwarts when you and hermione stopped to introduce yourselves. you felt a special connection to harry right away, experiencing butterflies in your stomach for the first time when you shook his hand and told him your name. of course you'd heard of harry potter before, no young witch or wizard at the time hadn't. but you didn't let that cloud your friendship with him, a friendship that continued to grow for years.

you and harry hit it off well. everyone in the friend group got along great, but there was always something different about you and harry. unlike ron and hermione who gradually grew into their romance over the years, you and harry had romantic tension right away. even just that first day on the train, neither of you could stop blushing or stealing sneaky glances at one another the entire ride to hogwarts.

throughout your first and second years, the four of you grew incredibly close as you found yourselves on wild and often dangerous adventures together. by your third year, things became a little more complicated as crushes, dating, and relationships became the topic of interest within the walls of hogwarts. who was dating who, who liked who, or who could put a love spell on who the quickest.

it was no secret that you and harry liked each other. at least to everyone else. you always laughed a bit harder at harry's jokes, harry's eyes always seemed to linger on you a bit longer than normal, and, after a while, you were both clearly envious of any attention given to someone else even in the littlest way.

it all started with a boy from your transfigurations class who set his sights on you towards the end of year three. you weren't interested, of course, your sights had always been set on harry, but that didn't stop the boy from doing everything he could to try and insert himself between you two.

harry caught on right away, and was completely annoyed at the situation. he'd roll his eyes any time the kid was around, made snappy remarks when he tried to speak to him, and often outright ignored him completely. you'd noticed a change in harry's attitude, but didn't have long to process what it meant before he began talking to a girl from his defense against the dark arts class.

harry began bringing her around more and more, which, in turn, made you fume. you'd always assumed you had an unspoken understanding with harry that you both liked each other, but apparently you had been proven wrong. you played off your jealousy well for a while, but it wasn't easy to hide how upsetting the entire ordeal was for you.

this cycle would continue with harry into your fourth year once he started to grow closer to cho chang. as a sort of retaliation, you began dating your first official boyfriend not long after you learned harry was taking cho to the yule ball. harry didn't react well to this at all, nearly turning the kid into a hairless rat before ron could calm him down. 

though your friendship with harry would remain civil throughout this time, it was clear you were both only "dating" people as a way to get each other's attention. between the vengeful flings were constant flirtatious moments, playful teasing, and lingering touches that left no mystery to everyone around you.

however, things were different once ginny got involved. at first you assumed it was just another way for harry to make you jealous, a close hit to home that would only last as long as the others did before inevitably fizzling out. however, the longer it went on, the more worried you became. no 'girlfriend' of harry's had lasted more than a few weeks, let alone entire months that went by without any sign of slowing down.

it had gone past the point of being able to bring a guy around to grab harry's attention, in fact he only seemed increasingly unbothered each time. you finally came to ron and hermione nearly in tears as you confessed your feelings towards harry to them, to no surprise on their part, and begged for guidance on how to navigate the situation without disrespecting ron or his sister in the process.

ron sighed, meeting eyes with hermione before leveling with you. "look, [y/n]," he had said. "i love ginny more than anything in the world, and i would never do anything to ruin her happiness. but," he sighed again. "i've known how you felt for a long time now, and i would be an idiot to keep you from being honest with harry."

hermione had given you a hug, holding you tightly as she told you, "you deserve to be happy."

you found yourself having a moment alone with harry later that same week where you could finally get your feelings off your chest. you'd pulled him to the side and nervously attempted to explain yourself to him as he gave you an amused look.

"look, harry, i'm just going to come out with it and tell you something i should've told you a long time ago," you'd said, your voice shaking. you had to look away from his eyes in order to get the words out. "i-i like you, okay? i like you, a lot, and i know you're dating ginny now a-and that's great and all, but…" you'd gotten choked up as a flood of emotions washed over you.

"please, harry, just…please, i can't watch this any more, it's killing me," you spit out, turning away from him and crossing your arms as you bury your face in your shoulder. "i love you." you'd said quietly.

harry no longer looked amused as he crossed his arms as well, his expression tightening. "what exactly do you want me to do, [y/n]?" he'd asked curtly, his voice cold. you looked at him, confused, studying his body language as your eyebrows furrowed together. "i…" you stuttered.

"what, you think now because you're ready for me i should just break up with ginny?" he asked, seeming slightly annoyed. you gave him a look before uncrossing your arms. "no, i don't think that, actually." you told him coldly.

"then what the hell do you want from me, [y/n]? i spent 5 bloody years pining after you while you treated me like a brother. now that i'm finally finding happiness in someone who actually wants me you want to tell me this? well, you're too late," harry ranted at you, his hands frustratedly raised as his expression got angrier.

you were speechless, your mouth slightly hung open at his confession of attraction while he stepped around you. before he could leave, you turned to harry one last time with tears in your eyes. "you blithering idiot, i've liked you since the moment we met that day on the train!" you exclaimed at him, your voice full of pain. harry looked at you, his eyes widening as you came closer to him, your finger digging into his chest.

"it's because of your ignorance that this is happening. all i wanted was to be honest with you." you spat before taking your hand away, the tears falling down your cheeks. "but i hope you're happy, harry, i really do." you told him between gasps before turning and leaving him behind you.

it had been years since that fight, and you hadn't spoken with harry since. while you always tried to remain close with hermione and ron, your last few years at hogwarts were mostly spent alone, much like how they'd been since. you were conflicted, holding that invite in your hands, reading the details over and over again to yourself as you weighed your options. it was undoubted you would see harry again, your first time in person since leaving hogwarts, and you weren't sure if you could handle the confrontation.

but after a few days of thinking, you decided your friendship with ron and hermione had always meant more to you than your silly crush on harry did.

while making your reservation over the phone, the voice on the other line informed you that ron and hermione had specially reserved a cottage for you near the venue the day before the wedding in case you accepted the invite. you were floored at the news, nearly speechless as you thanked the operator for telling you with the call abruptly ending at the promise of a ride service the day of your stay.

and, without fail, there was a car waiting for you outside of your house the evening before the wedding ready to take you to your cottage.

what you hadn't planned on was the overwhelming snowfall that started halfway through your trip and only got worse the closer you got to your destination. by the time you were pulling your luggage out of the trunk, the snow was nearly up to your knees.

despite your worries about the weather, you were thrilled with the beautiful cabin ron and hermione had reserved for you. it had a warm fireplace, a fully stocked fridge, plenty of blankets, and a projector set up to play movies. you were just getting settled in when you heard the distinct sound of a car door outside. you froze, your heart thumping in your chest as you heard muffled voices and footsteps up to the unlocked door.

before you could move, the door opens to reveal a snow covered harry.

you were in shock watching him come through the door without so much as noticing you only a few feet away. it wasn't until he closed the door and took off his beanie that he finally locked eyes with you, jumping at your sudden presence.

"[y/n]?" he exclaimed. "what…what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice full of shock.

you blinked at him, trying to figure out how, of all people, harry potter had to be the one to show up at your door at this moment. "i could ask you the same," you deadpanned.

harry cracks a small smile, shaking off his coat and hanging it up beside the front door. "haven't changed a bit, have you?" he asks with a smirk.

"don't joke with me, potter. what the hell are you doing here? ron and hermione reserved this cabin for me only," you narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms as you took a few steps in his direction.

harry scoffed, shaking the remaining thick snowflakes out of his hair. it was longer than you'd seen him keep it before, and began to curl at the ends around his face. "well, they must've given you the wrong address, then. because this is my cabin." he told you simply.

you scoffed in return. "don't be ridiculous, they had a driver bring me here and everything. if anyone's in the wrong here it's you."

harry paused, turning his head to you slowly. "they got you a driver too?" he asked curiously. you gave him a confused look. "yes?" you said suspiciously.

harry sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "damn it," he cursed under his breath. "what?" you demanded to know, taking another step towards him as your eyes continued to study his face.

harry turned to the dining table as well as you, your eyes falling on a welcome basket you hadn't noticed before. as harry walks towards it, you see him grab for an envelope addressed to 'harry & [y/n]' in hermione's familiar script.

harry opens it, sighing as he reads the letter aloud. "dear harry and [y/n], enjoy your snowed-in stay together at the cottage until sunday, the actual date of our reception. can't wait to see you there, love you both, ron and hermione. p.s., don't be too mad at us!"

you're dumbfounded watching harry place the note back into the basket, his head falling forward. after a moment he shrugs, pulling the basket closer to him and opening one of the prepackaged candies.

"you can't be serious. i'm not doing this, i'm not staying with you in this cottage all weekend," you say with disgust as you walk towards a phone table near the couch. harry turns, stuffing his face with the candy and chuckling to himself watching you attempt to dial a number. "good luck getting a cab in this weather," you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

you turn to the window and your mouth falls open at the sheer amount of snow that's fallen since you've arrived at the cottage. the bottoms of the windows are just barely covered with more piling on top quickly.

you frustratedly groan and slam the phone down, wracking your brain for a new solution to your predicament. you had to find a way out of here, there was no possible way you could handle another moment around harry like this, let alone an entire weekend.

just as you're about to start pacing, harry chimes in again. "look, it won't be so bad, alright?" he tries to console you, unwrapping yet another treat from the basket.

you narrow your eyes at harry again, feeling your blood boil at how much this situation isn't affecting him. granted, you weren't aware seeing him would have this much of an affect on you, but you were still hurt by everything that happened between you in the past. how else were you supposed to feel being confronted with your first love nearly 5 years after having your heart broken by him?

"easy for you to say, i'm sure this is nothing but a laugh for you." you snap at him once more, walking back towards the bedroom door. harry scoffs yet again. "what, you think i find this fun?" he laughs.

you turn to him, studying his expression with him doing the same to you. "you think i asked ron and hermione to put me in the same cabin as my ex-best-friend?" he asks sarcastically.

you wince at the title he's given you, turning your back to him once more as you enter the bedroom not far from him. "don't call me that. and no, i don't think you knew about this. but you were always good at assuming things about me, weren't you?" you asked sarcastically in return, angrily packing your clothes back into your luggage from their place on the bed.

harry takes a step into the room before pausing, his eyes landing on your half-folded clothes being angrily stuffed into the case. he looked up at you, his posture softening as he takes a smaller step towards you. "what are you doing?" he asks quietly.

you roll your eyes at his question. "what's it look like?" you ask him.

harry sighs, putting out a hand to stop you from continuing. "you don't have to leave, alright? if you really don't want me here i'll figure out a way home. i just thought it'd be nice to catch up again, y'know, like old times. i'm sure that's why ron and hermione put us here in the first place." harry reasons with you, your eyes connecting with his. you can smell him he's so close to you, his hand just barely hovering over yours.

your eyes search harry's, your stomach dropping at the familiarity of his gaze on you. you almost feel like a kid again, crushing on your best friend, the most amazing wizard hogwarts had ever seen, the sweetest boy you'd ever met with the prettiest eyes in the world.

you finally blink and look away, putting the clothes you were holding onto the bed again. you knew harry had a point. ron and hermione wouldn't house you together 2 days before the actual wedding just to mess with you. you knew in the past they wanted you to reconcile with harry, even if it was just to keep the peace, but you always refused their offers with tears stinging your eyes. you just weren't ready to open that chapter of your life again; though now, it seemed, you had no other choice.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing mind. "you're probably right," you say quietly, harry's arm dropping back to his side.

you turn to look at him again, taking a step back to put some room between you. "im sorry." you say simply. "you don't have to leave if you don't want to. though you should probably call ginny to let her know what's going on."

harry involuntarily laughs, his eyes crinkling as he tries to cover it with a cough. "uh, sorry?" he asked you incredulously. your brows pinch together in confusion. "uh, ginny? i'm sure you're well married by now, yeah? possibly even a kiddo or two?" you try to say lightheartedly, but your voice falters.

harry lets out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head at you as he heads towards the bedroom door. "right, yeah, think i'm good on that front," harry says between laughs, his hand resting on his chest.

you look after him confused, but decide to let it go as you unpack your clothes yet again. just as you're finishing up you hear the stove turn on, making your stomach growl. you didn't realize how hungry you'd gotten, but it was nearing nightfall and you hadn't even had breakfast today.

you walk into the kitchen to the smell of pancakes and the sight of harry cutting up strawberries. he looks over at you with a smile. "want some? i was starved," he offers. you hesitantly accept his offer, taking a seat at the dining table and grabbing the note from ron and hermione to read it over yourself.

harry noticed this and chuckled, plating up the first few pancakes off the frying pan. "pretty clever trick, if you ask me. i think it was all ron's idea."

you scoff at this, rolling your eyes as you study the letter. "oh please, you think ron would go through the trouble of sending us wrong invites just to get us in the same room together? this has hermione written all over it," you explain, setting the envelope back in the basket.

harry chuckles again, setting the plate of pancakes in front of you covered in syrup and strawberry slices. "you're probably right," he says warmly, heading back to the stove.

you have to admit, harry's pancakes were otherworldly. you had to hold yourself back from complimenting him too much as to not give him an ego. however you finished your plate before harry could even sit next to you with his, which made him smirk as he started digging in himself.

just as you finish washing off your plate, harry comes up beside you with his own. "you know, i figured, since there's only one bed, you should maybe have it for the night." he offers, washing his plate clean.

you turn to him, studying his face as he keeps his eyes on his hands. the offer was completely generous, and not something you expected from harry.

"oh, um, thank you, that's really kind of you. i don't mind sleeping on the couch, you know." you counter.

harry nods his head, turning off the sink and smiling over at you. "i know," he said. "neither do i."

you crack a small smile at him, the first one you've given him so far, and look away as you place the dried plate back in the cupboard. harry does the same and closes it for you.

you help harry get settled into the living room, laying out blankets for him on the couch as he fiddles with the projector and gets an old movie started for himself. you're about to say something to him when you turn and watch harry pull his shirt off and throw it in his suitcase. as he's pulling out his pajamas, you quickly divert your eyes before they can wander further down his torso.

you're still blushing by the time harry turns the lights off, smiling at the projected movie on the wall. "this is nice, you're welcome to sit and watch if you'd like." harry offers, turning to you. you shake your head, giving him a tight smile. "i'm just about to head to bed, actually."

harry nods, his smile slightly falling. "that's alright," he says.

you exchange an awkward goodnight with harry before closing your bedroom door, immediately letting your head fall into your hands in frustration. you were completely overwhelmed with everything going on you couldn't even begin to process what was happening. exhausted and confused, you got dressed for bed and settled into the sheets thinking about how close harry was to you after years of thinking you'd never see him again. the thought made your stomach tighten and your heart race.

you didn't leave your room until early the next afternoon, wasting time in the shower as you tried to prolong being away from harry and all the feelings that came with him. eventually you became too hungry and bored to sustain yourself much longer and finally entered the living room.

all of harry's blankets were folded back up and put away, with no sign of him sleeping on the couch left. you noticed him in the kitchen again, the smell of garlic and onions overwhelming your senses the closer you got.

harry noticed you and gave you a warm smile, eagerly grabbing for a bowl. "morning, sleepy head." he teases, offering you a bowl of pasta. "or should i say afternoon?"

you roll your eyes at him, but thank him for the food nonetheless. you take your first bite and can't help but moan at the flavor. harry turns to you with red cheeks.

"did ginny teach you how to cook or something?" you asked him, immediately going back for another bite as you lean against the counter beside him. harry just laughs and shakes his head at you again. "did ron and hermione really not tell you about anything after hogwarts?" he asked with an amused voice.

you give him a look, pausing from the food to answer his question. "well, to be fair, anytime we spoke i asked they not mention you at all…" 

harry laughs at this, eating the rest of the pasta right out of the pot. "im flattered," he says sarcastically.

you nudge him with your elbow, holding back a chuckle of your own. "whatever. but tell me, what should i know?"

harry leans back against the counter as well, his eyes falling to the ground. "me and ginny, we broke up not long after the war." he tells you, his voice solemn as crosses his arms.

you set down your bowl, reaching for a napkin to wipe your mouth. "harry, i'm sorry. i had no idea," you apologize, turning to look at him fully. you feel guilty for bringing her up, but truly had no idea they'd ever separated. you assumed this whole time they were living some dream life off together in the countryside while you stayed in your hometown and wished things were different.

harry just shook his head and laughed, his eyes connecting with yours. "don't be. you didn't know. besides, it ended well. a bit awkward at the weasley christmases, but, y'know," he trails off. you giggle, but try to hide it from him. harry just laughs with you, his cheeks red.

"but, um, what about you? if i may ask," harry inquires.

you timidly lean back on the counter next to harry again, crossing your arms like him as well. "well, to be quite honest, i haven't done much since leaving hogwarts. i've got a place of my own if that means anything," you say with a hollow chuckle.

"better than me, i'd say. i'm still at grimmauld." harry reasons with you, returning the same fake laugh.

"oh hardly, at least you've stayed close with ron and hermione. i think this is the most i've spoken to someone outside of my job in years." you tell him, dropping your gaze to your feet at the realization.

harry just hums in response, his gaze on the floor as well.

you sit in a somewhat comfortable silence for a moment before harry starts cleaning up the kitchen around you.

"you know, if you don't mind me saying, i've really missed you over these last few years. i know it's not ideal to meet again this way, but…i'm glad it happened." harry tells you as he puts away the dishes.

you feel your heart flutter at his words, and have to hold back a smile from taking over your face. he looks at you with a shy expression before beginning to wipe down the table.

"well, thank you, harry. i've missed you as well, i suppose." you say with a smirk.

harry just rolls his eyes playfully before returning to the sink to continue doing dishes.

you head to the living room and decide to put on a movie seeing as you're still completely snowed in. you re-light the fireplace as well and close the curtains to settle into the couch for the afternoon.

harry eventually joins you, offering a soft blanket as he takes the other side of the couch. you're not paying much mind to the movie as you mostly think about everything harry's told you far. you're not sure what to think, but knowing ginny is out of the picture now makes you feel all those same feelings from your school days while stealing glances at harry.

after a while harry uses the bathroom, and returns with the bottle of wine from the welcome basket. "might as well, yeah?" he shrugs, offering you the bottle to open. you smile and take it from him, setting the bottle on the table as he grabs a few glasses from the kitchen. you struggle with the cork a bit before harry offers to do it for you, pulling out the cork in one swift motion. you try your best not to notice the prominent veins in his arms but fail to look away before he's pouring your glass for you.

your first glass is finished while silently watching the movie, trying to pay attention to the plot with a racing mind focused on harry only a few feet away from you. as he pours his second glass he fills yours as well, mockingly cheering to you before taking a swig.

"y'know, [y/n], i'm real sorry for the way things ended between us. and i'm not just saying that, i mean, i really am sorry." harry confesses before taking another sip of his wine.

your heart's already racing, finishing your glass just to get the courage to respond to him. "it's okay, harry. really. we were both not very good to each other near the end there." you recall, a blush blooming across your face.

harry smiles, finishing his glass as well and reaching for the bottle. "well, still, i shouldn't have acted that way." he says, taking a swig straight from the bottle before leaning back into the couch.

you smirk and set your glass down as well, reaching for the bottle yourself. harry hands it to you and watches you take a sip before lying back as well.

"i probably should've told you i liked you sooner anyway. don't really know what i was waiting for, i guess," you say before downing another drink. harry shakes his head, motioning for you to hand him the bottle. "probably waiting for me, yeah?" he asks as he grabs the neck of the bottle.

you smile a bit. "maybe," you say softly, leaning against the back of the couch. you feel the effects of the alcohol start to wash over you as your body loosens, the anxiety melting away with every sip.

harry just sighs again before drinking. he wipes his mouth with his hand before fixing his glasses. "well, i should've known. i mean, you weren't actually into that hufflepuff quidditch captain, were you? please tell me that was just a ploy to get my attention?" he asks with a chuckle, handing you the bottle back.

you laugh, taking the wine and drinking more of it. "he was nice," you feigned innocence, feeling the intoxication settle in. harry rolls his eyes and grabs the bottle again. "yeah, right. all he wanted was a shag and you know it." he says, his tone slightly bitter and words beginning to slur.

you smirk at him. "well, at least someone wanted to shag me." you tease harry, reaching for the bottle again before he can even take his turn to drink. harry pulls away and shakes his head, making you scoff. "yeah, okay, [y/n]. whatever you say." he concludes before taking the last sip of the wine.

you whine when he hands you the empty bottle, setting it down on the table in defeat. "what, were you jealous or something?" you asked harry without thinking, feeling your face and chest heating up.

harry takes a moment to respond, clearly at a loss for words. "uh, well, i was just looking out for you, like i always did." he stumbles, leaning into the back of the couch with you.

he doesn't sound convincing, but you just attribute it to the alcohol and move on.

"and what about you? you mean to tell me you actually liked that slytherin chatterbox without a brain to match?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. "or was that just for me?" you ask with a laugh.

harry didn't respond, instead only returning his attention to the movie. "that's what i thought," you say triumphantly, turning to watch the movie as well.

after a moment, harry softly says, "everything was for you."

you turn to look at him, but he remains focused on the movie. "what?" you ask curiously.

harry finally turns to look at you. "everything, it was all for you, [y/n]. not just the girls, all of it. when there was nothing left to fight for, there was always you. even when you were gone." harry says in a somber voice, his eyes exploring yours.

you're not sure what to say, mostly because you're lost in the moment as your blushing cheeks only get worse the longer harry watches you.

"it was always you, [y/n]. why do you think ginny and i didn't last? because she knew." harry asks, leaning closer to you.

you back away slightly, your eyes diverting from harry's. "harry, please. this is just the alcohol talking."

harry shakes his head and gently places his hands on your cheeks, turning you to look at him again. "no, [y/n], it's not. can't you see? you were all i wanted. i was stupid, and i lost you forever. i've wanted to tell you this since the moment i saw you yesterday." he confesses, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your cheekbone down to your jaw.

"so beautiful, just like i remember," harry says softly, leaning into you once more. this time you don't back away, your stomach full of knots at the feeling of being held in harry's hands so tenderly. his face is only inches from yours before asking, "please, can i kiss you?"

maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the crackling fireplace, or maybe it was the lingering feelings of love and adoration from your childhood crush years past, whatever it may be, something pushed you to kiss that boy before he could even realize what was going on.

sloppy, messy, eager making out from both sides as you desperately grab hold of each other for dear life just feels so right. it's not long before harry has you on your back, his body weighing on top of you as the smell of the wine comes off his breath.

"harry," you manage to say between his lingering kisses. "swear this isn't just the wine? if it is, i don't care, i just want you," you try to ask again breathlessly.

harry's hand tangles in your hair, holding your face to his as you let out an involuntary whine. "this is all i've wanted my whole life." he says simply, his lips softly finding yours once more to leave a passionate, loving kiss. when he pulls away, he looks down at you with lustful eyes. "is this what you want?" he asks.

you shake your head eagerly. "all i've wanted." you repeat after him. harry smiles before connecting his lips with yours once more.

after making out for a while longer with harry on top of you, he eventually lifts you up to carry you to the bedroom. you laugh and try to squirm out of his arms. "i can walk myself, y'know. i'm not that tipsy," you tell him.

harry just hums at you and throws you onto the messy sheets, quickly removing his shirt before returning on top of you. biting your lip, you reach for harry's shoulders and feel his skin raise with goosebumps immediately.

"you're so pretty," harry mumbles to himself before kissing you again. his tongue slips between your lips and you gasp at the sensation. he takes advantage and leans further into the kiss, his hand finding your hair once more to keep you in place.

you whine against his lips at the pain, but don't want him to be any gentler. all you've wanted for so long was to feel like harry wanted you, needed you, and you weren't about to have him hold back from showing you exactly what you've been wanting.

"so, so, so pretty," harry says between kisses along your jaw and neck down to your chest. you go to pull off your shirt as well, but harry stops you by holding your hands down. "and so eager, too," he teases you with a smirk.

your face goes red, squirming under his gaze. you try to wriggle from his grasp but it only tightens. "patience, pretty girl," he tells you.

after nodding in agreement, harry lets go of your hands and slowly raises your shirt until it's just below your chest. he leaves kisses along your stomach, causing your body to shudder in anticipation.

harry lifts your shirt over your boobs and admires you for just a moment before removing your shirt completely. his lips meet yours again with hunger, his hands gently massaging the soft skin of your tits.

you moan into the kiss, arching your back further into harry for more. he smirks at your eagerness again, but continues to kiss you messily.

once he starts pulling and tugging at your nipples, you become a mess in his hands. "harry," you moan between his lips. "please," you say desperately.

"please what, darling? y'know i've waited so long to have you beg for me, i'd like to hear the words come from your mouth." harry tells you, his voice dark.

"please, harry, please touch me," you whine, grinding your hips against his above you. harry groans and pushes your hips back down with his own. "fuck me," harry curses under his breath.

after a bit of a struggle, harry manages to get both his and your pants to the floor. his hands delicately trace the outline of your panties along your hips and thighs. you can feel your stomach erupt in butterflies watching harry admire your body.

"you don't know how much i've thought about you [y/n], i could hardly contain myself last night knowing you were in the next room over," harry explains and hooks his fingers under the material of your panties. you're breathing heavily, red in the face as harry continues.

"if you could see the thoughts i was having you'd think i'm still some horny teenager with a crush," he says with a chuckle.

you cover your face in embarrassment and giggle knowing you felt the same way the night before only a few feet away.

"i mean, can you blame me?" harry asks, slowly pulling down your panties to your knees. "such a pretty girl," he continues, taking the fabric off of your legs. "my pretty girl," he states, twirling your panties around his fingers for a moment before tossing them to the floor as well.

"i-i've thought about you, too," you stutter. harry smiles as he slowly spreads your legs apart, admiring you from his spot between them. "yeah?" he asks, running his fingers along the soft skin of your inner thighs. "why don't you tell me about it, love," harry offers as his fingers slowly get achingly closer to your dripping pussy.

your eyes dart back and forth from his lustful gaze to his veiny hands between your legs. the knots in your stomach only tighten as you become more desperate for his touch.

"i-i…i never stopped thinking about you," you gasp as his fingertips run along your wetness carefully. "well? go on, pretty girl," harry encourages you.

your breath gets caught in your throat for a moment before you can respond. "i…" you're interrupted by a soft moan as harry applies soft pressure to your clit. "i, um, always have dreams about you…being with you…" you manage to get out before another moan slips through your lips.

"last night, a-all i wanted was you next to me," you admit shyly, grinding your hips further into harry's touch. "you were so close, i never thought…" you trail off as harry slowly inserts his fingers inside of you, only barely pushing into you before removing them. you gasp, shuddering at the sensation, hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

"thought what, hm?" harry asks you with an innocent expression. you narrow your eyes at him but his fingers curl inside you again, a bit further this time, causing your head and eyes to roll back as you adjust to the feeling. "fuck," you curse under your breath.

harry just hums at your response, admiring your body beneath him as you try to catch your breath again. he slowly begins thrusting his fingers in and out of your tight pussy, getting deeper each time, groaning at the feeling of you throbbing around him.

"go ahead, love, finish your thought." he reminds you, his other hand pushing down on your hip to hold you in place as he continues working his fingers deeper into you.

you're a whining mess in his hands, practically melting into the bed as your composure falls apart. the sight of harry's arms working to pleasure you with his eyes focused on your shaking body only pushed you further into your trance.

"mm, fuck, i…i n-never thought, i'd…" you gasp as harry's fingers reach a sensitive spot, making your face twist in pleasure. "i'd get the chance to, mm," you try to continue but your voice gets caught again as harry takes advantage of your sensitivity.

"hm?" he asks simply, picking up the pace of his thrusting fingers.

you whine again, your hand shooting to your mouth to keep the sounds in. harry removes your hand before placing his on your stomach, pushing you further into the mattress.

"tell me," harry demands.

you can feel your orgasm approaching, your legs going numb as harry continues to quicken his pace. "i-i never thought i'd get the chance to be with you," you finally get out, your back arching off the bed.

all at once, harry's fingers pull out of you as he rips his boxers off quickly. you whine as your orgasm fades away, your hips bucking up in search of relief.

harry smirks at your reaction, aligning himself with you between your legs. "it's so cute how desperate you are," he tells you, making you hide your face once more.

he uncovers your face and gives you a soft kiss. "but it's nothing compared to how badly i've wanted you," harry says, pushing the tip of his erection against your aching pussy.

he sits up and guides his cock inside of you slowly, letting you adjust around him gradually. you gasp at the feeling, your head falling back into the bed.

"i've spent years thinking about you, [y/n], dreaming about you, fantasizing about you," harry says between deep moans the further he pushes himself into you. "i never stopped," he admits, leaning down to kiss you once more.

you're breathing heavily and letting your body relax as harry's entire length fills you up. he continues to slowly thrust in and out of you, carefully watching your expression to be sure you weren't in any pain.

"so beautiful," harry tells you between heavy breaths, his hand softly cupping your cheek. you look into his eyes, your face still twisted in pleasure. "so perfect," he sighs before leaning in to kiss you again.

your body relaxes more once harry kisses you, pulling him closer to you. "harry," you brokenly moan into the kiss, making him practically growl in response.

"there you go, love," harry encourages you, picking up his speed as his hips knock into yours. "so good for me," he says as he leans his forehead against yours.

your moans become more and more desperate the rougher harry becomes with you, his hands grabbing for your tits and groping them roughly. your eyes struggle to stay open watching harry, sweaty, groaning, his eyes dark with hunger as he desperately chases his high with you.

you reach for his chest, your hand resting against his rapid heartbeat. "feels so good harry," you whimper, bending your knees further into your torso to give him more access to your aching pussy.

harry's thumb finds your clit and begins circling it slowly, causing your legs to start shaking involuntarily. you can't help but let out a string of breathless fuck, fuck, fucks, feeling your orgasm returning.

"you're, harry, mmf," you try to tell him, but harry just smirks and kisses you to shut you up. "cum for me [y/n]," he says against your lips, thrusting harder into you.

your mind goes blank as you feel your body ride the waves of your high, letting sinful sounds fall from your lips as harry's head falls into your chest, his face dripping with sweat. harry's name becomes part of your moans, only encouraging him more as his thrusts don't slow.

"fuck, [y/n]," harry's voice falls apart, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. you're still shaking, your body unable to recover as harry chases his high. "you're gonna make me cum," he gasps.

you reach for harry's face and pull him in for another kiss, slipping your tongue between his lips. he immediately melts into you, pulling his cock out and letting his cum fall onto the soft skin of your stomach. you moan with him as he comes down, his body collapsing to your side with his head in your neck.

a few moments of silence pass as you both catch your breath, your hand comfortingly rubbing harry's shoulder as he hums against your ear. you eventually giggle, causing harry to laugh as well. another moment later, he attempts to stand from the bed, your arms still lingering around him. "i'll be right back, love," he promises you.

he heads for the bathroom and returns with a washcloth, cleaning off your stomach softly with a slightly embarrassed expression. "sorry," he said shyly.

you chuckle at the difference in harry's attitude now. "don't be," you tell him.

you eventually stand as well, your balance a bit off as you adjust to the feeling. harry helps you to the bathroom, his arm wrapped around your shoulders supportively.

"here," harry hands you a towel as you turn on the shower. "i'll grab your pajamas as well, yeah?" he says before leaving the room. you smile after him, your heart racing at the gesture. just as you step into the water you see harry leave your pajama set on the bathroom counter, offering you a shy smile as he leaves once again.

after you're dressed, you head back to bed to see harry curled up in the sheets with a book in hand. you can't help but feel giddy at the sight of him, shirtless, the sunset shining through the windows on his skin as his eyes focus on the text.

you crawl into bed beside him, and he sets the book down to reach for you. "hey you," he says with a smile. you giggle and cuddle into his side, wrapping yourself around him. "hi," you say shyly.

harry chuckles, covering you with the comforter and pulling you close to him. "don't mind me sleeping here for the night, do you? the couch isn't nearly as comfortable," he teases. you laugh, setting your hand on harry's heartbeat again. "of course not," you tell him.

you and harry spend the evening talking, reminiscing, laughing, and kissing until you eventually fall asleep on his chest. harry just kissed your head and held you close as he fell asleep as well.

the next morning as you're getting ready for the wedding, harry finished packing up the cabin and came up behind you to hug you in the bathroom mirror. "you look stunning, darling," he told you, his eyes wandering in the mirror down your body adorned in a beautiful dress. you just smirk and lean into him, your heart still racing at his romantic gestures. you're not sure if you could ever get used to them now.

on the way to the wedding, harry's hand casually rests on your knee in the back of the cab. you can't help but admire harry in his suit, telling him he looks handsome as you pull up to the venue ready to watch ron and hermione get married.

at the reception, hermione runs up to you, tears in both of your eyes as you pull each other in for a hug. ron and harry also hug, giving each other a specific handshake as harry congratulates his best friend.

"congratulations, you guys. you look perfect, hermione," you say once she pulls away, taking a tissue to her eyes. you lean in to give ron a hug as well, and hermione gives harry a big hug beside you.

"well, i see you aren't too mad about our little plan," ron says to you, his arm wrapping around hermione comfortingly. you and harry look at each other and laugh knowingly. you shake your head at ron. "no, i guess we aren't."

hermione's smile only gets wider as she sees harry's hand link with yours discreetly. "i'm just so happy we can be together today," she says tearfully.

you pull her in for another hug, with ron and harry joining not long after, making you all giggle at the heartwarming moment.

[white-sinner]

Poly Yandere Alphas Asano & Karma x Male Beta reader (assassination classroom)

They force reader to wear a collar with their names on it.

Marking, reader being tied up, degrading, sadism, treating reader like a pet.

They say many things that bring down beta’s, and how they wish he was an omega, how much better he would be if he was. That he shouldn’t worry, they’ll still like him regardless of the fact that he’s a beta. Stuff like that.

Please?

you can try to resist but this is a challenge that you too know you will lose..

WARNING: kidnapping, threats, force collaring, knives, marking, sadism, sex, mention of pheromone

A/N: are we all aware that these two as yandere would be impossible to stop? with the controlled/rational personality of Asano and the sadistic one of Karma I think our dear Male reader has no hope of getting out of this fall into hell

Orange=Asano

Red=Karma

Black=reader

* ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ►* * ◄ ◊ ► ◄

a couple of hidden lovers born in the seventh grade who despite the difference in classes continue to live and be stronger and stronger but what will happen when these two Alphas find in M ​​/ n the omega they were looking for?

for Karma and Asano it had never been difficult to get along their two characters intertwined perfectly but then there was a change when 3-E of Kunugigaoka Junior High moved M/N L/N a beta, the first to notice it was Karma who was truly amazed by your skills against Korosensei not to mention your splendid personality and your scent which, despite you being a Beta, goes more sweet like vanilla and caramel since you arrived Karma feel a strong sense of protection and with your being kind but also knowing how to stand up to him,he understand that you were the missing omega that he and Asano were looking for but despite your being Beta he didn't care you were definitely a omega for him and no one could change his mind. obviously Karma as a good alpha and boyfriend reported everything to Asano who thanks to social networks, acquaintances and stalking in the end he too fell in love with you so the two devised a plan to get you

the two of them started leaving on your desk, folder and even mailing them to your home! they started giving you anonymous teddy bears/t-shirts and even used underwear…. now if you were an omega you got those things for your nest and as a clear sign of courtship that an alpha wanted to make you his but being you a beta you couldn't even recognize whose scent it was but things got worse in class when yet another soft toy appeared on your counter

“Another gift from your secret admirer?”

“I wouldn't call him a secret admirer but more perverted stalker *huf* I swear Nagisa if this dude doesn't finish it I'm going straight to the cops why doesn't he go fuck a bitch instead of bothering me"

poor man M/N he didn't know that the "pervert" he was talking about was watching him Asano was out of class and Karma near the window

in the chats between Karma and Asano

“it seems that your plan has failed”. my beloved psychopath 8:13

"I notice ugh he's getting on my nerves why he doesn't understand we're just trying to make him understand that he belongs to us?" my control freak 8:15

“now now don't get angry maybe our dear M/N needs to be put in his place and submit to his mates”. my beloved psychopath 8:16

so Karma stopped you outside school after class was over but as he spoke to you he took your hands and pinned you in the wall as ticked off Asano who with a syringe the rest was too blurry to remember

you woke up tied to a chair and in front of you with an evil smile your two captors

“but coincidentally, it seems the bitch woke up "

“wha-Karma Asano?!"

“Is this the way to address your mates? it seems that our omega likes to be punished”

what the hell were they saying omega, mates have they gone crazy?!

“haha look at that really adorable confused and scared expression”

“what the heck are you saying are you crazy I'm not an omega! release me immediately you ugly sons of bit-*slap*

” ugh and so that you address your alphas! first you called us perverts then this… I think you need to learn some of the rules Bitch”

at that moment Karma untied you and threw you on the bed and he cut your pants with his knife

"it's a real pity that you're not an omega right now you could be in heat and we would have helped you little slut"

said Asano while he was thrusting his cock into you without even getting ready!

“aAasano stop…Mmhm~”

“nonono this is not the way you call us”

Karma approached with the knife making a cut on your lips and then licking them

“so tell us bitch are we really perverts like you said?”

"to me the only bitch looks like you M/n look at Asano he's not fucking you even for 15 minutes and you already look like you're about to pass out"

continued Karma before he positioned himself on your face putting his cock in your mouth by now those two were gone in sync it was too much for you after a while Karma painted your throat white and you came

“wouldn't you like to be an omega? being inside a nest made with our clothes feeling the need to obey your alphas…having our children inside you”

“mmm after all look at you you are already below us for being a beta you are a shame”

they continued while karma came for the second Once Asano hadn't come yet! karma take his members off you and kiss you furiously making your tongue stick out and came again

“you know M/N you are really cute when you cry but I think you need to remind you who you belong to”

with that he took the knife and carved his initials and Asano's on your arm while you cried in pain and Karma licked your blood Asano came inside you

"if you were an omega by now with us you'd already be pregnant so you couldn't open your legs to anyone and you won't"

he approached your ear and whispered to you

“try to escape from us and we will kill all your loved ones remember the packages we know where you live"

having said this the two of them attacked your throat covering it with hickeys. a few minutes later and Asano also came out of you

"we have a gift for you go get it Asano"

Asano come back with a red streak collar and an orange heart with Karma Akabane and Gakushu Asano properties written behind it

"that's it, what are you saying Asano him Isn't he just adorable?”

“very Karma so how do you say M/N when your mates give you a present?”

you answered Asano in a low voice even though he was out of you you still felt him inside

” thanks Asa-“

“I think you were wrong try again or do you want to be punished”

“thanks alphas…”

before you could say anything other karma and Asano they made you spread on their chest and they ignited you with something

“don't worry M/N although you are a beta we love you the same but wouldn't it be better to be an omega? betas are less strong than alphas and more useless than omegas and then to be a beta you are a shame you smell so sweet and you let yourself be used as a sex toy"

" this syringe contains omega hormones we will continue to give it to you for a while you will see that in a short time you will assume your true behaviors "

you wanted to fight back but you were too tired so you closed your eyes hoping to wake up from this nightmare

* ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ► ◄ ◊ ►* * ◄ ◊ ► ◄

[sanakimohara]

OMG,, what????? pls do consider making it a series (tear you apart) i.n,, omoo

“TEAR YOU APART” Y.J. Pt. 2

Uhm….i haven’t decided a good plot for this one but here’s a Drabble for it ig 🖤 I’m not giving up on this idea though. 🖤

[ MDNI ]

+++++++

Why wouldn’t he just leave you be?…

You’d asked him nicely, time after time, yet Jeongin would only hurt you more.

It was a constant cycle of confusion, underlying excitement, and misery…

All because he hated you.

Jeongin made his feelings clear to you every time your paths crossed. He despised your existence, got off to crushing it under his foot, and refused to give a straight answer as to why.

You had no idea what you’d done to him, fishing for reason in his despicable actions but constantly coming up with nothing. 

You’d done absolutely nothing to him…

Yet, he hated you like no other and would take every chance he got to remind you.

No one could blame you for hating him back, and at the very beginning of your spiteful encounters, you did, in fact, despise him, but over time, a twisted sense of pleasure crept in over your disgust for Jeongin. Some inexplicable adrenaline rushed your blood more often than straight fear of him.

You were sick in the head -that much was clear- but it was hard not to welcome his attention in any form you could get it.

Fighting him brought out the worst in you, uncovering all your masochistic tendencies and drawing his underlying sadism into the open for you to see.

Only you. 

No one else seemed to see past his tender exterior, eloquent words, and energetic personality. He wrapped everyone around his finger, masking his deep-seated depravity in the public eye with innocent smiles and kind words.

It was such a contrast to the man he became the moment you two were alone.

You wished for the day he’d realize that hurting you wasn’t the only way to show his most accurate colors -that loving to cause another pain in hopes of releasing his own had other solutions.

Today wouldn’t be that day, unfortunately for you…

Jeongin had isolated you from everyone again, saying he needed your help and could only count on you to fix his problem.

As much as you wanted to rip your hand out of his grasp, stand your ground, and tell him off for interrupting your peace, you decided against it since his grip on your smaller hand was iron-tight.

He was angry….at what or who you didn’t know, but he clearly had something on his mind.

A lump formed in your throat at the realization, and your mind raced to devise a way to escape the situation without causing a scene. You were having such a good day, and five minutes alone with Jeongin would inevitably ruin or complicate it.

For once, you wanted a typical, non-confrontational day.

“Let go of me!” You grit through your teeth, attempting to drag your hand out of his larger one while planting your feet on the ground. Jeongin chuckled at your futile gestures, spinning on his heel to face you with an oddly sweet smile, and you froze as the space between your bodies waned.

He was way too close, and though there wasn’t a single person in the hall, you felt as if the world had a front-seat view of you breaking underneath his stare.

Jeongin lowered his head, eyes narrowed at your fearful expression as he backed you into the nearest wall. “Let you go?…” he repeats your demand as if it were a question, tilting his head as the words roll off his tongue and his smile gives way to a subtle smirk. You nod timidity, throat too dry to speak, and your chest tightening with anxiety as he places his free hand on the back of your neck.

You wince when he presses on the nerves there, knowing how badly it hurts you and using the pain as leverage to keep your eyes fixed on his.

“J-Jeongin, you’re hurting me-“ you whimper helplessly as he grips your neck harder, nearly smacking your head into the wall, but thankfully, he’s kind enough to avoid that injury.

He has other ways of harming you…less noticeable and consequential…

“I don’t care.” He seethes, repositioning his hands so one fist a handful of your hair while the other runs right up your skirt to take its place inside your dampening lace panties. “And would you look at that….my little bitch likes it anyway?” Jeongin grins as your slick coats his fingers, a clear sign that your body is betraying your words and encouraging him to carry on.

A whine leaps from your throat, feeding his ego., and tearing yours to shreds. “Don’t touch me there…stop…hah…mmm!” You try again to wriggle out of his hold, unconsciously molding your body to his and rolling your hips to cause more friction between his palm and your budding clit. 

Fight him back for once...

Your brain screams, warming after warning, trying to get your body to cooperate with logic, and for a split moment, it works.

Your knee lifts to push his hand away, the last move you have left to defend yourself, but Jeongin doesn’t budge. “Fuck! Jeongin l-let me go!” You raise your voice, halting a moan in your chest as he disregards your protests and vindictively pushes his index and middle finger past your fluttering walls.

“You’re still so tight…even after what I did to you last time?” He coos at the snug warmth your cunt envelopes his digits in, sucking them further into you as he pumps his hand at a leisurely pace. You can’t hide the blush on your face any longer, maintaining a disgusted glare despite feeling the pleasure prickling your spine. He shouldn’t be allowed to do this -you really shouldn’t be letting it happen either- but it was a mind-numbing form of torture for you both.

“Please…stop…” you mewl, desperate for release and agitated with yourself at the same time. Jeongin curls his fingers forward, swirling around an exceptionally spongy area in your cunt, and you jolt in his hold as he abuses it. Jeongin presses his forehead to yours, smiling wide as words allude to you and reluctant moans replace them.

He was getting into your head already, churning it into a needy mush with the stretch of his cold fingers in your cunt, spreading it wide while circling his palm on your clit in a rough pattern.

“My dumb bunny is gonna cum soon…” Jeongin whispers against your lips, picking up the pace of his hand fucking into you and giggling when you bit back a whorish cry. He knew you too well,l and like clockwork,k your cunt clenched on his fingers, cum gushing down his wrist and your inner thighs seconds later. You opened your mouth to shout, sob, or simply make a sound akin to a cry for help.

Help from what you weren’t sure anymore…

Indeed, no one would think you were in any danger with Jeongin. Not even as he slapped your dripping pussy so hard you groaned and teared up, laughing so sweetly in your face as if he’d merely told you a joke and wasn’t humiliating you for his entertainment.

Jeongin rubbed and cupped your cunt for a moment, playing with your wet folds to overstimulate you and edge another climax from your shaking form. His cock was rock hard, gently pressed to your thigh as he leered over you. Every labored breath you took made him twitch, eliciting groans from deep within his chest and slowly rebuilding your desire to come again.

“Get off,” you hiss, dazed but clinging to a sense of control as the hand he had in between your thigh moved to your hip, his thumb drawing unrecognizable shapes on your skin as he stared down at you through his lashes. “Make me…” he snaps back, smirking as you scoff and try to push him off with both hands on his chest. He doesn’t budge once, pressing into you harder and effortlessly catching your wrists with his free hand.

For fucks sake!

Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?!

Maybe if you head-butted him, he’d step back enough for you to sprint away, but you highly doubted you’d hit him that harshly without hurting yourself in the process.

So you settled for spitting profanities at him as he tried to hold you still against the wall. “Fuck you, Jeongin! I’ll fucking scream again if you don’t-“

“Slap”

Your head flew to one side as he slapped you, a crisp hit across your cheek to quiet you down, and your lips immediately pursed as tears built in your eyes. Jeongin held your face up with a grip on your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks as he glared into your watery gaze.

“Do it. Go on, scream, darling. I wanna hear you…”

Ice-cold tension flooded your veins as the words left his mouth, mind going blank as he continued to bait you, “What? Are you suddenly too stupid to speak now? Open that pretty mouth of yours and fucking scream…”

He held your face tighter, his own so close to yours he could kiss you, but Jeongin ensured that never happened. You failed to formulate a response, turned on simply by him calling your bluff, and the fuzzy look in your eyes was a dead giveaway to him.

You liked it when he threatened you….

“You sick little bitch….is this getting you all excited again?” He laughs rather loudly, making you blush harder and avert your gaze to the floor.

Jeongin beams a smile at you, ducking his head just enough to look into your eyes as he continues to talk down to you.

“You can tell me the truth, or better yet…” he released your wrists and jaw, gripping your forearm before checking the surroundings and beginning to walk.

You gulped as he dragged you with him, knowing his objective was to find an abandoned room. He shot you a sly look over his shoulder, fox eyes swirling with mischief as yours filled with apprehension, “…I can find out myself since dumb bunnies don’t know how to speak up when told to.”

“M’ not a dumb bunny…” you mumble as he tugs you into an empty conference room, locking it behind before shoving you towards the nearest table.

“Oh, is that so?”

You nod with a determined look on your face, almost succeeding in holding firm in front of him but quickly losing confidence as he picks you up and sets you on the cool tabletop.

He steps between your sticky thighs, hands busy with undoing your blouse and groping your curves from top to bottom. His eyes travel over you, tongue poking his cheek as he kneads your breasts until you moan softly and squirm for more.

“Guess I need to fix you again, hm? Fuck you dumb and stuff that worthless pussy of yours full of cum too….”

“Mhm,” you whimper in agreement, eyes rolling as Jeongin tugs your shirt off, tossing it to the floor before diving in to mark up your exposed cleavage.

You feel his smile on your warm skin, his breath fanning your neck as trails far as love bites to your shoulder. “You’re too easy…way too easy…” he muses, guiding your hands to undo his jeans and pump his cock with the precum leaking from the tip.

“S-Shut up and fucking me already….” You snap at Jeongin, and he simply laughs breathlessly in response.

++++++

Fun fact: One of my nicknames growing up/currently is Foxi and so I’m always partial to Jeongin and his fox like personality. 🖤 He’s just so cute but sly and I relate to him so much! I love himmmm! 🦊🖤

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Like you can’t tell me this doesn’t scream “I’m a trickster but I’m cute so you can’t dislike me ;)” ?!?! 🦊🖤 Credits to creator! 🖤

[moonjxsung]

Not Allowed

TV GIRL / NOT ALLOWED

⇢ Pairing: Lee Felix x fem reader

⇢ Summary: You and Felix are childhood friends turned fwb, with no strings attached. Felix leaves to pursue his idol dreams, and you begin your life as a college student. When he comes back to visit your town, he’s drawn to you again- but you’re both leading very different lives.

⇢ Warning: smut lol

⇢ W/c: 15k?

⇢ A/n: inspired by the TV Girl song “not allowed” <3 this has a lot of smut bc the whole song is abt sex so if ur uncomfortable with that, please don’t interact! 

// MINORS DNI // DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST MY WORK

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are 18+. the actions and story represented in this work do not represent Stray Kids in any way; everything described is purely a work of fiction!

“What’s on your nasty old mind?”

Your childhood was by no means perfect. In fact, things seldom worked out in your favor. Born an only child in a middle-class working household, your parents were absent for long periods of time. Mom worked late nights at the hospital in the week, and dad was always away on business trips or out at company meetings. How many of these were actually late-night corporate gatherings and not just another woman he’d sneak off to see, you had no clue. 

School was difficult, although you excelled in your courses, the stress ate away at you and withered you down like a dying flower. Decaying petal by petal, thorn by thorn, you’d find yourself questioning what the purpose of all this was if just to slave away at a desk and make money.

It seemed most everything was at the cost of your time, money, and sanity- except your friendship with Felix. 

Lee Felix- even the name brought back distinct memories. Lazy, carefree afternoons when the two of you would spend hours upon hours scattering the sidewalks with chalk drawings of sea animals and hopscotch squares. Racing each other to the ice cream man’s cart when you’d hear the jingle from a block away. Laughing between singsong acrostic poems over colorful popsicles, the heat melting sticky sweetness onto your fingers, where you’d run them over your tinted red sunburns for some relief. 

Most nights you’d spend at Felix’s house, tucked away in makeshift blanket forts in his bedroom- doing your best to keep hushed while you’d devise plans for tomorrow’s equally carefree July summer day.

Sometimes his sisters would join the two of you, learning all about your games as you’d walk them through the rules and dedicate one of them to the role of referee (per Felix’s sore loser request). But as you grew older, they made their own plans and friends, leaving the two of you to grow up alongside each other. 

Days turned to months, which quickly turned to years that the two of you had been best friends. You observed as Felix grew taller and leaner, his short brown hair framing the introduction of freckles scattered all over his face- cheeks, eyes, and button nose. He couldn’t help but comment when you painted your nails for the first time, remarking he’d forgotten you were a girl sometimes. 

Before you knew it, you and Felix made it to high school, where you each formed your own friend groups. You, a solid group of girls who shared your newfound interest in horror movies and girls nights. And Felix, a group of guys from the soccer team, the sport which he spent most of his teenage years wrapped up in. 

Although you had your own lives, you and Felix remained close. You greeted him with a gentle wave every time you passed each other in the hallways, even if you were with your own groups of friends. Felix admired your newfound love for fashion, often complimenting your outfits when you had a second alone. His favorites usually involved anything olive green- which he made known was the best color on your naturally tanned skin tone. He gave his approval when you got highlights for the first time, experimented with different piercings, and even showed more skin than usual as the spring transitioned to summer. 

You didn’t go unnoticed by the others in your grade- in fact, you became a particularly hot topic when you got your first boyfriend. He was a nerdy little member of the water polo team, with whom you’d spend your days after practice in his car listening to music and sharing stories of his day. It was also then that you shared your first kiss- a short, sloppy encounter in the front of his mom’s green minivan. Nothing that stuck with you in the long run, for the two of you broke up just two weeks later, citing “conflicting schedules”. He was with a new girl a week after that.

Felix was also a popular topic on campus. Girls visited his away soccer games just to watch him play, squealing when he’d score a goal and give them a little wave from down on the field. He had a girlfriend almost every year of his high school career- ranging from the most popular girl in school, to one a year older than him, and even rumors of some from rival schools (none of which were very serious). You often passed him locking lips with a girl when you passed his locker, looking awkward and a bit too happy to be there. It was those times that he had failed to acknowledge you, which you never cared about, considering you indulged in crushes on most of his friends anyway. 

But he still kept you in his thoughts, making small talk when he passed you alone, and even bringing brownies from his mom when she baked a little too much (the famous recipe passed to Felix shortly after). You assured him that things were well, your parents still just as busy, your cat doing just fine, your college applications taking too much time these days. 

He was just as giddy as his younger self, beaming when you shared good news and sending you off with a hug when his girlfriend or soccer buddies would drag him away. You weren’t sure any of them liked you, but they acknowledged you with a small thin-lipped smile every time they came around, which was enough for you. 

Your final year of high school was a turning point for the two of you. You had made it into your first choice of university, a mere two hours from your household, with grades that reflected your hard work. Felix, on the other hand, chose a different career path. 

When he knocked on your door one night, the last person you’d guessed it would be was Felix. You opened the door for him, wrapping your arms around your oversized hoodie that swallowed your frame. 

“Hey!” he said enthusiastically. 

“Felix!” you exclaimed quietly. Nobody was home at this hour, but the way the streetlights lit the dim world beyond your door, it felt odd to talk any louder than this. 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked politely, to which you furrowed your brows. 

“Yeah, sure... I mean, is it bad? You’re kinda scaring me.”

He chuckled lightly. “It’s nothing bad. I just wanted to give you the news first.”

You squint your eyes, unsure if you should invite him in. It felt odd considering he hadn’t been over in a while, but you didn’t want to make things weird. 

“Yeah- do you want to come inside? Should I sit down for this?”

He chuckled again. “I won’t be long.” 

You stepped aside as he passed through the door, standing with his hands in his pockets as you shut it behind you. 

You led him to the living room, where he sat on the edge of the couch and smiled up at you. You took a seat next to him, facing your body toward him and smiling back. 

“Okay…” you said timidly. 

“Okay,” he began. “You remember when we were little, and I took those dance classes?”

You furrowed your brows at that. “Yeah, the hip hop ones? When you had that little performance?”

“Exactly,” he said. 

“Yeah, I remember. We were so little!”

“We were!” he replied. “Anyway, so I did this tryout at an audition a little while back. It wasn’t really something I told anyone about, you know, in case they rejected me.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue. 

“And… well… they want me to keep at it.”

You cocked your head slightly, trying to make sense of his vague tone. 

“You mean… you passed the audition?”

A small smile began to form on his lips. 

“Kind of? They want me to keep practicing as a… trainee? And then if I get picked, I could possibly get… signed?” he finished with a questioning tone.

The smile on your face grew as he finished his sentence. 

“They want to sign you?!” you exclaimed, a warm feeling overtaking your chest. 

He laughed. “Not yet, not until I go there and try out officially. But there could be a chance, I guess?”

You jumped up, waving your hands with frantic excitement. “Oh my god, Felix! That’s amazing! You have to do it! When are you- I mean, where are the tryouts? I want to watch as much as I can! How’s that gonna work out with school?”

He sighed. “That was my next point.”

You paused, watching his expression grow worrisome. 

“It’s… in Korea.” 

Felix expected you to cry, to choke up or even to bawl your eyes out. But you didn’t- instead, you gasped with an even bigger smile and gave one solid nod. 

“Go,” you said firmly. “You can’t pass this chance up. There’s always university, and the people here, and life. You may never have this again. Go, and I’ll be rooting for you.”

His smile returned, his eyes narrowing into little crescent moons as he beamed across from you. 

“You think so?” he asked. 

“Oh I know so,” you reply. “Besides, if you get all famous, maybe this stupid town will be known for something other than being a shithole. They’ll say ‘you know that Felix kid’? He’s from there!”

Felix laughed, throwing his head back a little. When the two of you stopped laughing, he looked back at you, appreciation in his expression. 

“You’ve always been here for me. I won’t forget that. Not ever.”

You shook your head, waving a hand. 

“I’m just being a friend, Felix. That’s what we’ve always been to each other.”

He nodded. “Speaking of my best friend, where are you headed after graduation?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, cocking your head in the direction of the acceptance letter on the coffee table. “I don’t think there was ever a version of this universe where I’d be okay with not going.”

Felix’s jaw hung open, head shaking in disbelief. “Well I think this version of the universe knows how lucky they’d be to have you,” he said, extending his arms out for a hug, which you gladly accepted. 

Felix held you against his chest for a minute, rubbing small circles into your back as he remarked how proud he was of you. You parroted the statement, telling him you knew he was going to make it big.

When he pulled away, his eyes darted to your lips for a brief second, and then back up to your eyes. “I can’t tell if that’s the same lip gloss you wore when we were younger.”

You chuckled. “Why would I keep the same tube of lip gloss from a decade ago?”

He smiled, a little embarrassed at his own remark. “I don’t know! You always wore that one. Strawberries? Or something like that.”

“Raspberries,” you said with a smile, and he held his gaze on yours for a second. 

“Raspberry,” he echoed. “She wore raspberry.”

And in the midst of lingering seconds, he gently leaned into you, a strand of black hair falling over one eye. 

“y/n… Can I… Would it be weird if I kissed you?”

You were startled for a second, as the action hadn’t crossed your mind in the time you’d known him.

“I mean, nevermind… sorry, that was weird. I’m just excited and I guess I felt like that would… lock in the moment? God, I’m sorry, that sounds so dumb-”

You chuckled at his nervousness. “Felix, if you wanted to lock in the moment, I’m pretty sure that little tangent did it enough.”

He chuckled too, a little disappointed you didn’t agree.

“Right, that’s probably true. I don’t even know why I asked that. We’re just friends after all, and it’s not like I came here to do that. I literally just got out of my relationship and I promise I’m not hitting on you-”

“Felix,” you interrupted. “I’m happy too. Come here,” you said gently, pulling his face to yours.

He smiled before pressing a tender kiss to your glossed lips, smiling into it and instinctively reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. 

When he pulled away, you laughed and wiped the sweet residue from the corners of his mouth. 

It didn’t feel any different between you two, only your happiness for him was elevated by the emotions running through you following the encounter.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” you told him again. “And I know you’re going to do great things.”

“I’m proud of you,” he echoed. “I don’t leave for a few months, if you want to do something? I mean as friends, obviously…”

You rolled your eyes jokingly. “A celebratory kiss doesn’t change anything between us. Duh, we can do something as friends.”

He laughed lightly. “Cool. I should get going, but we’ll catch up later?”

You nodded, gesturing to the door. “You know the way.”

And with that, he slipped back out into the night, his own house only a few blocks away. 

*

Graduation came and went, and the two of you seemed to have reconnected again in ways you hadn’t during the entirety of high school. Felix would stop by in the early mornings, sometimes with little desserts he’d baked, and you’d enjoy them in the warm summer heat that enveloped your front porch.

For the first time ever, the two of you connected as blossoming adults. He told you tales of his past lovers- girls you now learned he would usually meet at soccer games away from your campus. He said he only ever really cared for one of them, whom he later broke up with to pursue somebody else he had his eye on. Defeating the purpose of him stating he ever cared for her, in typical Felix fashion.

He recalled the time he got caught cheating on his final math exam in sophomore year, which the teacher excused for how “tired he looked” (his words), and let him off with a gentle warning. He shared that he stayed up late practicing his dance and recording little songs on GarageBand, files which he’d save under recipe names on his computer, in case somebody accidentally came across one. Chocolate Cheesecake was his most recent, one which he’d gone so far as to upload a little thumbnail of the dessert for anonymity. 

You soaked in his tales like you did the sunshine, laughing at his ability to turn the most outlandish scenarios into an adventure. You envied the way he had this long list of stories to pass down before he was even in university. But you shared your own stories back to him, albeit not the most exciting ones. You failed your driver’s test 3 times before finally passing, to which your instructor tentatively warned you to avoid busy streets for a few months.You almost set your house ablaze one night when you slept with a candle lit on your window sill. Nobody was hurt, but your mom scolded you for what felt like a lifetime. Your parents were going through a difficult patch right now, one you could see the possibility of ending in divorce. At this, Felix’s expression turned serious, swallowing at your words and nodding empathetically. 

After exchanging a series of comforting words, he smiled over at you, chuckling at the way you licked your fingers clean of his famous fudge brownies. 

“Is there a lucky guy?” he asked suddenly, wiggling his eyebrows in a curious manner. 

“What?” you replied, trying your best to recall if you’d ever passed his house in the presence of another guy. Nothing came to mind- you hadn’t even pursued another boyfriend since your little water polo romance. 

He chuckled. “Come on, there has to be somebody. I just told you all about the relationship I got out of. Think that’s reason enough to distract me with your version.”

You shook your head, smiling. “Absolutely no one. I don’t think I can do another car seat romance right now.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “A car seat? That’s risque! You weren’t afraid of getting caught?”

You shook your head. “What’s the harm in getting caught kissing? That’s hardly a big deal!”

He furrowed his brows. “Oh sorry, I thought… something else.”

You paused for a brief moment, understanding his implications. “Felix… are you… inquiring about my sex life right now?”

His freckles almost disappeared as his face turned a bright shade of red. He was afraid if you sat any closer, you might feel the heat radiating from the tips of his ears. 

“No! I wasn’t- I just thought,” he stammered. 

You laughed in response. “You could’ve just asked if I was a virgin, you know. That’s not weird.”

His blush grew brighter, if even possible. “Oh god. I didn’t come here to try and get details out of you, I promise. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head. “You’re one of my best friends. I would likely tell you if I killed someone, you know.”

He laughed, the flush of his cheeks dying out a little. “Right.” 

After a brief pause, you tilted your head in his direction. “Never.”

He raised his eyebrows a little, trying not to offend you with his reaction. “Never?”

You shook your head no. “Never! It just never happened. Of course if the right guy came along, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. But I’m not going to have sex with just anyone. It’s not that important to me.”

He nodded, taking in your words. There’s a kind of admiration he had for your thought process. And then he began to speak. 

“Me neither.”

You almost jumped up in the swinging bench bench from beside him. “What? No way, I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that to make me feel better!”

He shrugged. “I don’t think I was with anybody long enough to get to that point. Plus, it’s not like I was ever away from my parents or teammates to get up to that kind of stuff.”

You made sense of his words, a silence falling over the two of you. 

“I mean…” he continued. “One of the girls at our second away game of senior year kind of… touched me? In the locker rooms?”

You stifled laughter. “I don’t need to hear the gory details of your almost handjob, Felix.”

He laughed back. “It was over my gym shorts!” 

“Okay, okay! I get the gist!” you retorted, laughing into your hands. 

The two of you fell silent again, the buzz of the cicadas bringing you back to reality for a moment. 

“I should get going,” you tell him. “But thank you for the brownies. You really don’t have to keep bringing them. I’m going out with the girls later so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We could,” he said suddenly. 

“What?” you replied, unsure of where his statement fit into your farewell.

“We could. Have… sex?” he clarified. You began to laugh, until you noticed his facial expression had turned serious.

“Felix? What are you proposing right now?”

He shrugged. “I’m not dating anyone. You’re not dating anyone. Neither of us have crossed it off our lists. It’s not like it has to be some big, emotional thing, y’know?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and then quickly transitioned into a frown. “Are you just trying to get in my pants?”

His face panicked. “No, god no. I’m sorry. I just thought maybe you’d want to. I mean you’re going to college and there will probably be a ton of opportunities for it there. I’ll be living with like 20 guys for a while… I dunno, I just thought… It's stupid. I’m sorry.”

You thought over his words for a while. The thought of it didn’t turn you on- having sex with your childhood best friend. In fact, it was a little gross. But he was right- you hadn’t really checked it off your young adult list. And you wouldn’t see him for months, so any awkward emotions that arose would have months to pass by and dissipate. 

“I’m gonna get going,” he said. “I’m sorry, I feel like I ruined things.”

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s do it.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“You’re going to propose it and then act like I’m crazy for agreeing?” you replied.

“No, no! I mean- yeah. But only if you want to. Nothing emotional, if you don’t like it we can stop there. But we’ll have the story to tell when we’re both gone.”

“You make it sound like we’re dying, Felix.”

He chuckled. 

“Let’s go inside. I’m not having my first time on a bench outdoors,” you finished.

He nodded, swallowing a big gulp of air. “Okay. I- do you want to take my hand? Or-”

You shook your head, chuckling at how awkward he managed to be sometimes. “Just go inside, I’ll meet you in my bedroom.”

*

Your bedroom was messier than you remembered. There were boxes scattered from packing for university. You realized Felix hadn’t seen it in a long time. 

Posters of local bands scattered the walls, your mirrors plastered with collections of stickers. Your bed wasn’t made, the sheets sprawled over the edge and tangled from your morning slumber. 

You were the first to lay down, gesturing for Felix to come over from his awkward stance in the doorway. He obliged, crawling on top of you and hoisting his weight up by a single elbow. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked nervously. 

You smiled up at him, noting the way his freckles were yet again concealed by the blush across his cheeks. 

“Yeah, you can kiss me.” 

Felix smiled down at you, leaning in and pressing a gentle, yet firm kiss to your lips. His ebony hair tickled your cheek, which you reached up to move out of his face. 

It was romantic and slow, and his hands traveled to the small of your waist, pulling you closer to his lanky frame. 

He kissed you for a good while, and you could tell that although he hadn’t slept with anyone, he’d certainly had his share of kissing girls. His lips were plump and soft, and his eyelashes fluttered with pleasure every time you sighed against his mouth. 

You’d almost forgotten the agreement by the time he slid a hand under your shirt. “Is this okay?” he asked, his voice a little out of breath. 

You nodded quickly in response, helping guide his hand to the curve of your breasts. Felix’s breath hitched in his throat as he examined your curves with the pads of his fingers. He awkwardly ran his index finger over your nipple, sighing in response when you let out a little gasp. His fingers were smooth, and oddly cold. 

“So soft,” he said in a voice just above a whisper. 

With growing eagerness in your core, you pulled back and slid your shirt over your head, glancing over at Felix who couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off your chest. You chuckled softly at his expression, mouth agape and stars in his eyes at the sight in front of him. He sure knew how to give you an ego boost. 

“Your turn,” you said, snapping him back to reality. 

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling the back of his white shirt over his head and tossing it aside, getting lost in the pile of your clothes already on the floor.

You observed his body too, taking in every new freckle you hadn’t seen before. They were scattered along his clavicles, painting his chest with little beige constellations and stopping just before his toned pecs. Where there was an absence of freckles, his muscles accentuated generously, jutting out as if begging to be explored. 

You nodded, as if to say nice body, and a knowing smile grew on his pink lips. “Come here,” he said, pulling you close again and pressing chaste kisses to your neck and collarbones.

You really liked neck kisses, you learned, as he took his time brushing a tongue over patches of skin before peppering them with kisses and nibbling with feeble hunger.

Your hands reached up to tangle themselves in his silky hair, which he moaned gently in between kisses in response to. With your hands busy, he took the opportunity to slide a hand down, down- all the way down to your jeans. 

Pulling away from your neck, he didn’t hesitate to snap open the button of your jeans and free your pelvis of the zipper. He didn’t even ask for permission, knowing by your reaction that the answer was yes, absolutely yes, please don’t stop. 

Your hands left his hair to help slide your jeans off, and he towered over you to mirror the action. In between innocent giggles, he gathered both articles of clothing in his nimble hands, before making a dramatic show of tossing those on the floor, too.

You were down to just your underwear, a feeling which made you nervous as you became aware of how exposed you were. But Felix didn’t leave a single spot untouched, showering your skin with kisses as your hands found their way to his hair again. 

“Can I try something?” Felix asked, pulling away to gauge your reaction through his fluttering lashes. You nodded, observing as he positioned himself between your legs, and reached a single hand to your underwear. 

It was your turn for your breath to hitch, growing goosebumps as he placed a single finger to your still-clothed wetness. You gasped in response, the feeling not far from when you’d squeeze your thighs together to sex scenes from your favorite movies. 

“I don’t really know how to do this,” he admitted to you shyly. “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?”

You brought your arms around his neck, smiling up at him and glancing down at his hands. 

“Just circle my clit. With your finger. Like- yeah. Just like that,” you were interrupted by his successful attempt at following your instructions. 

He smiled at your reaction, adding a finger and rubbing slow, thoughtful circles around your clit. You gasped at the heat growing in your core, happily accepting when he leaned down to kiss you as he continued. You stayed like that for several minutes, sweat pooling between your thighs as beams of sunlight glared through the window behind you. 

Slowly, he hooked both fingers in your underwear, moving them aside to expose you, and placed fingers on your now fully exposed wetness. You gasped louder in response, humming with pleasure and gripping his toned bicep. 

“Wait,” you said. “Let me just take them off.”

“Okay,” he replied in a gentle tone, pulling away a bit to let you slide your underwear off and over the bed. 

Once bare, his fingers found their way back to your clit, now working little hearts into your skin. “Hearts?” you asked through a smile, kissing him harder and noting the lewd sounds of tongues and sweat and wetness that now filled the room. 

He hummed in response, bucking his hips against your thigh, and you suddenly realized how hard he was for you. His bulge tented nicely in his gray boxers, the tip of his cock already flat against a generous spot of precum. 

“Sorry,” he said, scared the accidental motion would make it look like he was moving too fast. 

You grinned, shaking your head and propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “Take them off,” you requested plainly. 

He gulped and nodded, admittedly scared of baring himself in front of you. You were already fully naked, and he’d forgotten the fact that he still had one article of clothing left to lose. 

“You okay?” you asked, growing concerned at his silence. He nodded, responding by pulling his boxers down over his cock, which grew slowly against his abdomen.

He was just as you expected, veins bulging at his hardness, following the shape of his curvature to the wetted pink head.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, eyes fixated on his cock. He was flushed a rosy shade of pink as you stared, aching to explore every inch of him. Felix greeted your compliment with a toothy smile.

With a newfound confidence, he leaned back down to kiss you, his bulge sitting patiently at the entrance of your sex.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, and he responded with a nod.

“I never got rid of this after health class,” Felix said, as he fished a silver packet out of the pocket of his jeans which hung off the bed. 

“You’re such a nerd,” you replied, and he laughed lightly as he tore open the packet with his teeth.

You helped him slide the rubber down his length, careful not to pinch any part of his sensitive skin. His breathing was heavy, and you could tell he didn't have much time before he gave in. 

“Ready?” Felix asked, as he positioned himself in front of you again. 

“Ready,” you replied, and you both kept your eyes locked down below as he gripped his shaft and slid just the tip in. 

“Oh god,” you remarked, surprised at the sensation even though he was barely in. “Does it hurt?” he panicked, and you shook your head. “Just a little. Do more, if you can.”

At this Felix, pulled out slightly, and then bucked his hips forward so that he was just barely halfway in. 

“Fuck-” you heard, and you looked up to his eyelids shut tight and nose scrunched. His hair hung lazily around his face, sweat pooled at the ebony roots. 

“Are you-” you began to ask if he was okay, when he slid out and let out a deep sigh.

“I finished,” he replied. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would feel that good.”

You smiled in response, relaxing your hands by your side and sitting up. 

“Don’t apologize, Felix. It’s just your body.”

You took note of the tears welling in his eyes, and your expression shifted to that of concern. “Felix?”

He wiped with the back of his hand, sitting back on your bed like a scolded child. “I didn’t mean to finish so fast. I wanted it to last. I didn’t come here for sex, I promise. I just thought it would be a good idea and now it’s over and I did so badly.”

He hiccuped through tears, and you sat up to wipe them from his eyes. “You didn’t do badly, Felix. You did amazing. That was an amazing first time. Don’t apologize for a natural reaction. We’re not pros at this.”

He nodded slowly, sniffling and looking around for his shirt. “Well I guess I’ll go,” he said rather dryly. 

You knew he was going to beat himself up for this, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Felix, don’t go,” you said. “I’m not letting you leave like this.”

“I already ruined things,” he responded. 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you said. “Plus, we always have next time?”

You surprised yourself with your own remark, blushing as he locked his eyes on yours again.

“Next time?” he questioned, his voice still frail and quiet.

You nodded. “I mean… if you want to? As friends, of course. I liked it,” you shrugged. 

The last of his tears trickled down his cheeks as a small smile grew back on his face, illuminating the room with comfort once again. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like to do it again.”

You nodded, mirroring his smile. “Then we can do it again. It’s not a big deal, right?” 

He shook his head, wiping tears with the back of his hand. “Just… practice I guess? That’s all it is.”

You nodded. “Just practice. Exactly.”

With bleary eyes, Felix rid himself of the condom and clothed himself again, pulling his shirt over his head and buttoning his jeans back how they were. You laid on your side, still nude in your bed, one hand tucked under your cheek, still entranced by the way the sun kissed Felix’s freckles in the June air. You hummed softly as the birds chirped outside, the sounds starkly contrasting the filthy moans emitting from your room just moments earlier. 

“I’ll see you later?” he said, turning to you, his eyes flickering curiously to your chest and and between your thighs again. You tugged the sheets up to your chin, keeping your gaze on him for a minute.

“Busy later, remember?”

He nodded once. “Right. Are your parents home tonight? Or… what are you doing tomorrow?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his helpless words. “Gosh Felix, you’re needy already. I’ll call you okay? I’m not gonna leave you hanging.”

He smiled in response, cocking his head to one side and taking one last look at you. 

He’d never seen you like this, more skin showing than ever before. The way your mascara pooled around your eyes from shutting your eyes in pleasure. The way the last of the sun rays set little orange patches aglow on your olive skin, highlighting your clavicles like an oil painting. The way your smile said so much yet so little at the same time, as if to tell him you’ll be right here the next time. And the next, and the next- and hopefully several times after that. 

He wanted nothing more than to touch himself and stay in for round two, but he was dying to go home and shower the lingering embarrassment off his body. With nothing else to say, he raised two fingers and gave a little salute, trying to send you off in the most casual manner he could, fearing you might change your mind about there being a next time. 

“Catch ya later,” he said a bit awkwardly, and turned on his heel to stride out of your bedroom. 

You said nothing in response, shutting your eyes and letting the evening drowsiness overtake you. 

*

“You should hear when you’re not around, when it’s just us horny poets”

It didn’t take long before you and Felix were fucking like rabbits for the remainder of summer. 

Handjobs on your porch when it was too early in the morning to be caught. Blowjobs in the backseat of his car, Felix strategically parking on little off roads where no one could interrupt, while his hands pulled mercilessly at your hair. Kisses all over your neck during movie nights, where you’d fold almost immediately and wind up under him for the remainder of- what was that film again? You’re not sure. You were sure of his nimble fingers, and the way his lips could work up just about anything out of you. 

You’re sure he’d been studying pornography, the way his lips pressed little butterfly kisses all over your aching pussy, coming up to suckle your clit and spread your juices all over your thighs with more hungry kisses and nibbles. 

Felix even felt comfortable enough to present you some of the videos he got off to, shyly angling his phone at you mid-makeout session, inquiring about your interest in sucking off his fingers. You challenged him, making him suck your fingers instead, while you edged him over his sweatpants. Note: he really liked that move. 

The two of you were different tunes working in perfect harmony, your erotic ideas playing off of each other, resulting in some of your most intense memories together.

Not every idea worked out as you’d planned, but the time was never wasted. Nights where you couldn’t finish from penetration alone, he’d spend hours working you up with an old massager, his deep voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he fondled your breasts.

His words were so carefully picked, diligently selected from your favorite erotic fiction works you’d send him. “You like that? Is your pussy aching for me? Always so wet when I touch you. Could do this for hours…could hear you moan for hours.”

His breath tickled your neck, the sound of his own labored breathing growing louder and then quieter again as he’d brush his lips over your ear and fill your mind with little moans and filthy thoughts. 

And the nights would always end safely. He’d bring his signature baked goods, massaging you in his lap as he fed you little bites of brownies and cookies and pies. 

His words never stopped at sex, showering you with compliments and sweet nothings even if not to arouse you. “You did so well today. Thanks for letting me try that. I’m sorry if it hurts. Let’s try something more gentle tomorrow, yeah?”

And the weeks you couldn’t have sex, Felix never seemed to mind all too much. Sometimes he’d let you watch him pleasure himself, sometimes he’d brush off the idea all together. The stories you shared, and the laughs you got out of each other, were reason enough to spend just about every passing second together.

2:15am. 

Felix pulled out, rolling over on his back again, letting out an exasperated sigh and shutting his eyes. 

“Fuck. That was good. Are you okay?”

He forced an eyelid open, glancing over at your still lying body, too tired to speak but nodding through labored breaths. 

“Yeah,” you managed a minute later.

The two of you remained like that for a few minutes, basking in the silence of the atmosphere around you. The world was quiet without the loud moans and cuss words that erupted when you were normally together.

And then came the sniffles. 

When you began fucking, you quickly understood that you were learning things about Felix that maybe nobody knew before you. Not even Felix himself. Like how he scrunched his nose right before he finished, his open mouth following shortly after. The way he apologized after he let out an accidental slut or whore in the bedroom. They helped him get off on occasion, but he detested the thought of you internalizing the words. Or maybe the way his hands cramped quickly when he fingered you- he wasn’t used to using his hands as much as his legs or upper body. Soccer player problems. 

But the most interesting thing you’d come to discover about Felix was his tendency to cry after sex. 

Mornings, afternoons in his car, quickies in your room, it didn’t matter. 90 percent of the time, he’d cry after finishing, his whole face contorting into that of a guilty boy’s, eyes reddening as they welled with tears and found their home on the sleeves of his sweaters or corners of your sheets. 

The second time it happened, you grew concerned for him, thinking it was something you’d done. You tried to break things off, saying “maybe this isn’t a good idea” and “I don’t want to do this if you’re not emotionally ready for it.”

But that only made him cry harder. Wrapping you in his arms and letting out gentle sobs in your knees. Begging you not to go, that he’d work on himself instead. 

It never stopped, and although Felix tried to vocalize it, you always felt sorry for him.

“Sorry,” he’d explain through sobs. “Just felt so good.”

You never invalidated his feelings, always simply nodding at his words and holding him for as long as he needed to be held. 

The truth is, Felix felt emotions so deeply, deeper than even he himself was capable of handling. The orgasms were an emotional high for him every time, pure bliss exiting his body and filling yours, you returning the favor with your praises for him.

When he came down from his high, it snapped him back to reality to remember that this was all temporary. That he’d be gone soon, that you’d be fucking somebody else in this bed within the next few weeks. That he didn’t buy you flowers, nor did he properly introduce himself to your parents, although you weren’t dating. That you’d be so generous to try just about anything with him, going at it for hours to determine what the two of you liked and didn’t like. That you sacrificed your body for his pleasure on nights you weren’t as horny as he was, and that you never made a fuss when he made a mess of you and your sheets. 

That you held him after sex every time, massaging his hair with a gentle caress, telling him about how “amazing he did”  and that he was “so, so good to you.”

And through tear-stained eyes, he’d do the same for you, thanking you until sleep overtook you both. 

Tonight was no different. 

“Hey, hey,” you said to him soothingly. “Come here.”

He sat up, face in his hands for a moment as he let out quiet sobs and shook his head. “It’s no use. I can’t st-stop c-crying…” choked sobs trailed his voice away from you. 

“Felix, you did so well. You always do. Are you overwhelmed? Talk to me,” you said, sitting up to embrace him.

He turned to hug you back, tears falling on your bare shoulder as you shushed him and pressed little kisses to his forehead.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You’d heard it a million times from him, but he always felt the need to justify himself to you. 

“Don’t apologize,” you told him. “Don’t apologize for your body. Do you want to grab something to eat? I know it’s late, but McDonald’s is still open.”

He wiped his tears away for the second time today, nodding as you reached over and handed him his sweatshirt. 

When his tears came to a halt, he smiled at you and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your temple. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I know it’s the least sexy thing you can do after an orgasm.”

You smiled back at him, standing up to gather your clothes from where they’d fallen. “Hey, I don’t care if you want to do your taxes after sex. I had fun, you had fun. That’s all that matters.”

Felix always admired your ability to downplay everything. No reaction of his was too much when he was around you. He felt normal, comfortable. Safe. 

“Just gonna grab a new pair of underwear,” you said to him. “I’ll meet you back at the car.”

Felix nodded, scrambling out of the tangled sheets of your bed and grabbing his car keys. 

As he exited your room, you took careful note of your disheveled appearance in the mirror. Bruises, messy hair, puffy lips. Tear-stained shoulders. 

*

“Okay,” you began. “If you had to pick what you’d want your dorm mates to be like, what would  you say?”

You popped a french fry in your mouth, watching as Felix thought over the question. 

“I’d say…” his Australian accent was thick as he pondered for a moment. “I dunno, maybe outgoing? I guess I’m not the most extroverted so I need some balance.”

You laughed. “Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes outgoing can be a veiled statement for annoying.”

He scrunched his nose at you. “Oh god. More annoying than me? I don’t even know if that’s possible.”

You slapped his arm playfully. “You’re right, I think you already beat them in that department.”

He remarked a sarcastic haha at you, taking a sip of his McFlurry before crossing his legs onto his seat.

“What about you- what do you hope the people at university are like?”

You swallowed, giving a small shrug. “I hope they make me feel comfortable.”

His eyes remained on you for a second, and you continued your response. “I just want to experience everything. I want to go bar-crawling with my friends at 2am. I want to go to parties, and study at the library for finals with a group of people who make it all worth it. I just want that typical experience.”

He nodded, his throat suddenly feeling dry. 

He was reminded again that he wasn’t going to be a part of your university experience. You were going to meet new people, make new friends. Fuck new guys. And he wouldn’t be around to be part of any of it. 

“You know,” Felix began. “I’m rooting for you. Even though I won’t be here to see how it all plays out.”

You pulled your lips into a thin smile, nodding. “I know you are. I don’t doubt that.”

“And,” you continued. “I’m rooting for you. I’ll be tuned in to all the programs they put you on. I’ll shoot you little messages about your silly stage outfits here and there. The whole kpop fan image? That’s going to be me, like, times a million. Maybe I’ll drag around your album everywhere I go.”

He laughed at the idea, tossing his head back. “Hey, don’t speak too soon. If things fall through I’ll be back in less than a month. I don’t even speak Korean. Got a lot of learning to do.”

You waved him off. “You’ll catch on. I know you will.”

He held your gaze for a moment, smiling again before leaning in to kiss you. His lips tasted like oreos, and yours lingered of salty fries.

“2 weeks,” he said when he pulled away. “I can’t believe how fast this summer went by.”

You agreed with a slight tilt of your head.

He glanced out the window briefly. The cicadas had gotten quieter now that August drew to a close. You were at the usual spot you hooked up at, parked in his car across a vista point just off the highway. The view overlooked a canyon of trees, which looked like something out of a horror movie at this hour of the night.

He looked back at you and nodded in the direction of the backseat, a gesture you knew very well. You climbed over the center console, already pulling off your sweatpants and adjusting yourself so your legs were propped open. 

Felix followed after you, slipping off his jeans and pulling you onto his lap. 

Hasty kisses met your lips and neck as he gripped your waist and massaged little circles into the dimples that met your lower back. He let little moans meet your mouth as you palmed his already-hard cock through his boxers, rocking back and forth on his thigh to stimulate yourself first. 

One hand reached up and snaked two fingers into your mouth. “Suck,” he instructed.

You wrapped desperate fingers around his wrist, pressing little kisses to the pads of his fingers before slipping them in and out of your drooly mouth. He didn’t break eye contact as you hollowed your cheeks and stared at him through long lashes, moving slowly and savoring the taste of his soft skin. 

“Good,” he said, and you released him with a gentle pop, a string of saliva connecting him to you still.

He licked a stripe along his fingers too, sharing the flavor of your needy spit, before reaching down and moving your underwear aside. 

You gasped as a finger pressed hastily to your clit, rubbing little hearts as he usually did, which he knew drove you wild. He rubbed back and forth, grazing down your slit and back up again, before finding his way to your entrance.

Felix gently inserted a first, and then a second finger, inside your soaking cunt, using his thumb to graze your clit and make you emit breathy moans from the sensation. 

“Fuck,” you breathed, watching him tilt his head to one side. 

“That feel good? Hmm?” He cooed with a smile, already knowing the answer by your pleasured response.

You nodded, eyebrows arched up in pleasure as he moved faster. Felix nodded with you as you gripped his wrist, digging nail marks into his veiny forearm. 

“Felix, would you fuck me?” you asked him politely, your breathing speeding up. 

“Hmm? I am fucking you, sweetheart.” The pet names, god, the pet names. He knew exactly what they did to you. 

“Want your cock in me,” you specified, gripping his wrist again to slow his pace. He hummed in response, moving a strand of hair out of your face and pressing little kisses to your exposed neck. 

Feeling he’d teased you enough, Felix pulled his boxers down and tossed them aside, gasping as you jerked him twice and thumbed at his tip. 

“Fuck, stop,” he begged you. “I don’t want to finish yet.”

You, nodded removing your panties with ease and waiting patiently as he slid a condom efficiently over his length and positioned himself. Before you could lay back and spread, he gripped your waist again, lifting you onto his lap and rubbing against your soaking slit. 

“Wanna fuck up into you,” he said. “Wrap your arms around me.”

You did as told, grabbing hold of his warm gray hoodie and taking a deep breath as he lowered you on to him. 

Felix let out a hearty moan, soaking in how good it felt. You’d ridden him once before, but this was something else. Needy hands grabbed at each other, making desperate attempts to grope your flesh and bring you closer to him. His hands rested on your lower back and syncopated with your breathing as he lifted you down on to him and bucked his hips up into you. 

You felt every inch of his cock twitching inside of you, about to fill you up before you caressed his jaw and pleaded. “Don’t move,” you instructed. “I just want to feel you for a second.”

Felix did as told, slowing his thrusts down and reciprocating as you leaned down for a sloppy kiss. His cock pulsated against your already throbbing clit, sending shivers down your spine as you kissed him again, and again. Making him feel every ounce of your want for him and only him.

His mouth was wet with drool, giant sultry eyes so full of want and need for your body. When you pulled away, you took in his face for a second. Although it was dark, you could still make out the flush of his cheeks around his freckles. Dark strands of hair hung loosely around his jaw, and the musk of his cologne filled the air as he sweated profusely in the steamy car. 

“Okay,” you said finally. “Cum in me. Please.”

The words were all it took before Felix thrust up into you again, his nose scrunching and mouth agape as he shot thick, white strands of his pleasure into the rubber. 

You let out a breathy sigh as he slid out of you, tying up the condom and tossing it aside.

But you didn’t move from off of him, instead holding him and pressing little kisses to his forehead. Like clockwork, the tears began to flow. You kissed them back up his cheeks, letting the salty taste melt on your already salted tongue.

“It’s okay,” you assured, and he sniffled with innocent puppy-dog eyes that looked up at you. You wrapped a hand around his hair, pulling him closer and ruffling his locks with empathy. “You okay? That was really good.”

He nodded, wiping his tears with sleeves that enveloped his hands like little paws. “Felt really good,” he said, letting out another choked sob. 

“I know,” you replied. “I know it’s a lot. I’ve got you.”

It was usually at this point that Felix’s crying began to lessen, but he started crying even harder at your consolation.

“Felix?” you asked, getting worried with his growing sadness. He nuzzled his face into your neck, letting tears fall to your neck and wet your hoodie. 

“Don’t forget me,” he said suddenly, and you were taken aback by his pleading tone.

You pushed him away, tilting his chin up to meet yours again.

“Felix,” you said. “Nothing could ever make me forget you. You’re my best friend. We’ll see each other again.”

He nodded, but a smile was still absent from his expression. 

You pulled him in for another hug, rubbing circles into his hoodie and shushing him gently. 

“My star,” you cooed tenderly. “Could never forget you.”

Your hands grazed the back of his neck as he held you too, feeling small and vulnerable, but safe. Always safe. 

*

“You may not like it, but you better learn how, ‘cause it’s your turn now”

Felix left on a Thursday.

It was a dark September morning, the day too early to reveal what the weather would bring. He wore a hoodie and his favorite sweatpants, looking especially boyish with a bulky pair of headphones around his neck, his sleek black hair pushed back with a headband. One of yours- one he’d found in the backseat of his car. 

He packed the remainder of his bags, glancing over at your street in the chill of the September air as his mom loaded the car with his belongings. 

I’ll see her soon, he assured himself. After all, you had promised you wouldn’t forget him. 

The day prior was spent with his family, enjoying one last home-cooked meal with his mom and sisters. They exchanged a few gifts they’d generously picked for him, knowing they’d miss his 19th birthday, just 2 weeks out from his departure date.

Felix cried at the gesture, the idea of a birthday spent alone suddenly filling him with dread. 

And after double counting his bags, his family was off to sleep. “Don’t use your phone,” his mother had remarked several times. “We need to be at the airport very early tomorrow.”

And when he was sure she was asleep, little snores confirming his theory, Felix climbed out of his window and disappeared into the dimly lit streets, mentally apologizing to his mom for disobeying every one of her orders.

The air was more unforgiving than when he’d escaped in the summer months, painting little goosebumps on his bare arms and showing his breath back to him when he exhaled. 

Still, he ran. He ran and ran, and he didn’t waste a second booking it to your place.

Your window was left ajar as it usually was, you sitting up in bed with a book. When the crunch of leaves drew your attention to the paned glass, you knew exactly who it was. 

Felix usually did his best to lead into your sessions as a gentleman would, inquiring about your day and sharing little bits of his. But his heartbeat quickened with every passing second, knowing this was it. This was the last time he’d have you for who knew how long, and his body ached for yours already.

You wasted no time helping him climb inside, already attaching your lips to his, as he guided you back into your bed. 

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, slipping off your nightgown too, pressing hungry kisses to your thighs and moaning against your soft skin. 

He wanted to say something, he wanted so badly to tell you how sorry he was for brushing past your day, that he did in fact care, but that he needed all of you first. He wanted to apologize for all the times he ignored you in the hallways back at school, mentally punishing himself for not being a more prominent part of your teenage years sooner. He wanted to tell you that Oreo McFlurries all tasted like you now, and they always would. For as long as he remembered you.

Your hands in his hair brought him back to the moment, and he wasted no time attaching his drooly tongue to your clit, moving back and forth like a starving animal eating for the first time in days. 

His licks turned into saliva-filled kisses, wrapping his lips around your clit and making loud sucking noises as he pulled back and left no inch of your folds untasted. Between his licking and ravenous kisses, you felt your body tense as you reached your high. It must’ve been a new record, you thought to yourself, as your legs trembled and you leaked cum all over his pretty face. 

Your orgasm was intoxicating, but your need for him kept you aching, and you knew you had a lot more left in you still.

Felix’s mouth met yours again, letting you taste yourself on his wet lips. He smiled in between kisses, trailing kisses down to your breasts and suckling each nipple with soft hums. 

“Gonna make you feel so good tonight,” he said for the first time tonight, in between breathless kisses. “Just lay back. You don’t have to lift a finger.”

You shivered at his words, an agreement you normally didn’t do when you linked. You always returned the favor in one way or another, but tonight, he wanted to prove himself to you. 

As he pressed kisses down your torso, he complimented you between gasps for air, making you giggle as you looked down at him. “So… beautiful…” he’d say. “So soft… love how you’re always ready for me…”

His mouth found his way to your clit again, and you didn’t care that you were already overstimulated from your first orgasm. He kissed you all over, paying careful attention to your swollen clit, moaning as you stifled screams and gasps. 

Felix tasted you for what felt like hours. You’d finished all over him a total of three times already, and well into the fourth, you pulled him up by his hair. “Need you,” you said, your insides aching to clench around him just once. 

He didn’t waste any time demanding you specify your words, knowing exactly what you wanted from him. His boxers were stained with dark gray spots of wetness, and you realized he must’ve been aching for you too. The thought of his straining bulge made you even wetter for him, if that was even possible.

Hoisting your legs up around his waist, Felix wrapped himself up and thrusted into you with more force than you’d felt from him before. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, your nails scratching red marks all over his forearms.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, pausing for a moment. You shook your head no, moving a strand of hair out of his face. 

With that, he thrust into you again, and again, loud moans and whimpers escaping his lips like you’d never heard before. As he watched your fucked-out expression, he snaked a hand around your throat, lining your eyesight up with his. 

“Look at me,” he demanded. You kept your gaze on him, pondering how this was the same person who so delicately kissed you and held your hand when you weren’t underneath him like this. 

“You gonna miss me?” he asked between rhythmic thrusts. You nodded. 

“You gonna think of me when you touch yourself?” he asked, and your heartbeat quickened at his tone. 

“Yes,” you replied, barely above a whisper.

“You gonna tell me when you’re all wet and needy for me? You gonna touch yourself and think of how I fucked you?”

Your heartbeat kept quickening, his words both dizzying and unexpected.

“Felix…” you said, but your voice trailed off as he quickened his pace again.

“Say it again,” he ordered.

“Felix.”

“Louder. Want the neighbors to hear how good I fuck you.”

“Felix!” You said louder as he moved even faster, your nails clawing into his back as your own voice filled your ears. 

When you opened your eyes, his nose was scrunched in pleasure, followed by his plump lips parted, which chased his high. He moaned for what seemed like several minutes, thrusting himself empty, and slowing inside of you, making sure you were completely overstimulated before pulling out. 

You sat up quickly, knowing he was going to cry himself silly tonight. As you pressed your hands to his cheeks, already rubbing your thumbs at his lashes, he nuzzled into you and pulled you closer. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice shaky with overwhelming sadness already. 

But this time, you felt yourself start to cry, too. Your eyes welled with tears at the sight of him, holding you like a small child clutches a teddy bear, crying into your knees and letting little sobs escape his parted lips. When he heard your sniffles, he looked up at you, pouting through tears at the sight. It was his turn to pull you close, placing a gentle hand to the back of your head and holding you close to his chest, afraid he might break you if he didn’t maintain his fragile embrace.

He didn’t ask why you cried. He just stayed like that, holding you close to him, listening to your quiet sobs like music and grazing his hands over the skin he’d previously bruised and made a mess of. 

3:56am.

Felix hadn’t meant to lose track of time this badly, and you knew he was supposed to leave for the airport in just an hour. 

“Felix,” you said to him. “I didn’t mean to keep you up this late…”

He shook his head firmly, wiping his cheeks with the corner of your sheets. 

“I can sleep on the plane,” he responded. His eyes were puffy and red, and you thumbed over his eyelids in attempts to soothe the irritated skin.

You pulled away, sliding out of your bed and pulling on your nightgown. “Have a little surprise for you,” you said, hoping to get at least a smile out of him before he left tonight. 

It worked, his lips pulled into a curious grin as he slipped a shirt on himself, too.

“What is it?,” Felix remarked. 

You didn’t respond, instead digging through your drawers and pulling out a small tube. 

You tossed it over to him, his skilled fingers catching it quickly and observing it under the moonlight peering through the window.

“Your chapstick!” he said with a smile. “Raspberry.”

You smiled back at him and shrugged.  “Little taste of home.”

He twisted the tube between his slender fingers for a bit, uncapping it and bringing it up to his swollen lips. 

You watched as he glided the cherry color across his smile, running over the tint with his tongue and smacking his lips together lightly. 

“Tastes like you,” he remarked. 

You shrugged again with a smile. “We match now.”

You urged Felix to go home and get at least an hour of sleep, but he refused defiantly, asking to be held in your blankets until he had to leave. 

So you did. And for the last time he was able to, Felix asked about your day. He kept his eyes on you the whole time, careful not to blink excessively in case he missed the way your face lit up at the mention of your future college life. He took note of the way your chest rose and fell with slow breaths, clearly tired but not enough to leave his side. 

You told him all about what you still had to pack before leaving for university. About the book you started this morning, the second one in a trilogy. You recounted your favorite songs, suggesting a few to him, which he added to a playlist for his flight. 

The two of you reminisced the summer days, which had slipped by you in the blink of an eye, taking all your carefree thoughts with them. You voiced your favorite moments in his car- both sexual escapades and late-night McDonald’s runs, and he shared his own discoveries and favorite moments back to you. 

He said he hoped your next lover would appreciate the smell of your raspberry lips as much as he did. And you silently wished he’d find someone who held him after intense sessions the way you learned he needed.

But before you knew it, the clock read 4:48am. 

You knew Felix’s mom would be waking him any moment now, and he needed to be back in his own bed fast. 

“Go,” you said, as he propped himself up and scanned over your alarm clock once again. “You’ll get in trouble.”

You followed as he slid out from your warm comforter, fixing up his hair and towering over you. 

With a straight, yet heavy expression, he looked down and tilted your chin up with one finger, placing a gentle kiss to your lips and pulling away after a few seconds.

“It was fun,” you said, and he smiled in response, though saying nothing back. 

You followed him back to the window, where he hoisted himself over the ledge and back into the cool September air.

Turning on his heel, Felix brought two fingers up to his forehead, giving you a little salute and a smile. 

“Catch ya later,” he said, and disappeared again into the morning fog. 

You hoped so. You really, really hoped so. 

*

“I’m starting to suspect you don’t intend to do anything you say at all.”

The months that followed were tainted heavily by Felix’s absence. The lulling clouds and light drizzles that spanned far into November reminded you that the seasons did in fact change, whether you wanted them to or not. 

Your college dorm was small and cramped, and the smooth white walls felt like that of a prison most days. But your roommate was nice, and the two of you hit it off fast. Late nights were spent snacking in the dining hall, where the two of you would gossip about the boys you shared classes with, making lewd remarks that remained a fun game between the two of you. 

You spent most of your days in the library, a favorite spot of yours on the 8th floor that overlooked the busy streets and provided ample content to people-watch. 

And you never heard from Felix. 

You didn’t reach out, knowing he was busier than ever, his phone usage probably monitored heavily by the executives there. And such was life- the summer interactions like the games you now played with your new college roommate; between the two of you, and not meant to be an object of permanence by any means. 

But some days, you took it harder than others. 

Some days you were angry with yourself for sacrificing so much, barely recognizing the curves and birthmarks that painted your nude frame, upset that anyone had ever touched them. 

Other days, you stifled toothy smiles in the palms of your hands, when you remembered the activities both of you got up to that summer. Some of the most incredulous, dirty-minded positions came flooding back to your memory, and no one around you would ever suspect such a pristine girl to have tried the things she did. 

You did touch yourself to the memories of them, hoping your roommate wouldn’t hear the little gasps you let out with your hands between your thighs at such an ungodly hour. But as time passed on, the memories were less vivid, melting colors and tastes into obscurity, until you couldn’t get off to them anymore. 

And then one day in your second year, Mark entered your life.

*

At first, you were convinced there had to be a catch, when he approached you in the library to borrow a pencil, slipping his phone number to you in exchange. 

His dusty blue hair and stylish outfit had caught your eye in passing once, but you’d never considered the possibility of him noticing you. 

Yet that he did, sealing his action with a closed-mouth smile, gesturing to your phone and miming a texting gesture at you. “Yo, like, you should text me or something. I always see you around here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, fascinated with the casual way he talked. 

“I don’t even know your name,” you remarked jokingly. 

“Oh my bad,” he said, reaching a hand out to you. “I’m Mark. My friends usually call me Mark.”

You laughed again, meeting his hand halfway with yours and shaking once. “Y/n.”

“Dang, that’s a cool name,” he said. “It totally suits you.”

You cocked your head slightly, his words igniting a spark in you. “I’d hope so,” you replied. “Had it for 20 years.”

“Oh cool, you’re like a year younger than me,” he replied. “Second year?” 

You nodded, taking in his features for a second. His warm smile and doe eyes were inviting, yet the way his chiseled jawline framed strands of sapphire hair was hot. 

You stayed quiet for a second, before he broke the silence. “Listen, I gotta head to my evening class. But would you wanna like, grab a coffee or something? Or like, maybe get dinner? It’s a 3-hour lecture so I’ll be out kinda late but I’m probably gonna grab some takeout-”

His rambling was endearing. You cut him off with an eager nod, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll like, totally text you. Yo.” you said. 

With an amused smile, you looked back once as you made your way to the elevator and disappeared between the twin doors. He kept his gaze on you from across the room, sticking his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans and smiling back.

The amusing encounter was the start of a whole new chapter for you.

*

“How quickly they turn sour, so be careful who you screw.”

College came and went quicker than you imagined it would. What took years of mental preparation seemed to fly by, the end of every semester always catching you by surprise. 

You and Mark stuck together through the end of your college career. While he graduated a year earlier than you, he still visited every week of your last year, bringing you iced coffee and showering you with kisses as you studied in your same spot at the library. His friends also took a liking to you, and you were happier than you’d ever been before when you were around him. 

Mark graduated with a degree in biology, getting a prestigious post-college internship at a research institution almost immediately after graduating. You completed your courses in business, excelling in all of them, grateful you had so many friends and a loving boyfriend for a support system. 

And then you graduated, walking the stage in a dark blue dress (per Mark’s request), basking in the cheers of Mark and his friends, who made obnoxious neon signs and bought you the biggest gift basket you’d ever seen. 

You began your work at a small ad agency, spending hours producing digital ads and writing pieces, coming home to your little shared apartment with Mark. It was a dingy box on the South Side, but with a little decorating, the two of you fell in love with the way it brought you closer together. 

You enjoyed the months you couldn’t afford a mattress yet, keeping each other warm on the carpeted floor and using spare jackets as blankets. You bargained for furniture at secondhand shops, scoring the jackpot when you picked up the velvet couch of your dreams, one which you’d quickly come to spend most of your time on. The little kitchen table that only seated two, which proved a problem when you had friends over. But one that the two of you enjoyed home-cooked meals and greasy takeout on together, every night that you possibly could. 

Mark was gentle with you. He was funny, outgoing, and smarter than anyone you’d ever known. You wondered sometimes what you did to deserve him. The two of you grew up together, much like you and Felix once did. 

After graduation, Mark dyed his hair black for the first time in years, which you simply couldn’t get enough of. You lost weight after college, transitioning your closet from comfortable hoodies and sweatpants to dresses and blouses. The two of you coordinated outfits on errand days, which his friends never ceased teasing you for. 

And you were happy. Truly and honestly happy.

One rainy Wednesday night, Mark took you out, deeming it a celebratory event following your raise at work. 

“Here’s to… money,” Mark said with a smile, bringing his glass up to yours with a little clink.

You weren’t hard to please, requesting the celebratory meal be at your favorite ramen shop a couple blocks away. Mark insisted on something fancier, but let you pick your first choice in the end. He never pressured you, one of the many things you loved about him. 

In between slurping noodles and telling tales of work, you were interrupted by music playing on the television high on the wall, drowning out Mark’s story with loud rap. 

“Jeez,” you remarked. “Can’t they lower that? That’s so annoying.”

Mark adjusted his body toward the tv, bobbing his head at the thumping beat. “I dunno, I kinda like it.”

You scoffed. “This garbage? You’re crazy.”

He kept his eyes glued to the tv, eyebrows furrowed in a teasing manner as he continued to bob his head along and ad-lib the loud singing.

“Maniac... Maniac,” he hummed along, laughing at the screen and craning his head to keep watching. 

You watched too, eyes glued to the colorful outfits and coordinated dancing. Your eyes scanned over the lyrics on the screen, realizing at this point that the song wasn’t in English. 

if you think I’m just pure and innocent, you’re wrong, 

when a favor continues, people think it’s their right, toxic, 

this is what drives me crazy, warning

As a deep voice filled the room, your eyes remained glued to the figure in a green coat and purple beanie, heart stopping briefly in your chest while your mind raced a million miles per minute. 

The familiarity of every feature grazed your conscience with a rude awakening. 

You watched as the screen panned to someone with red hair, and another with purple hair. It was a few seconds before you spotted him again, a longer shot of him looking up at impressive skyscrapers. But it confirmed your theory. 

It was Felix. 

Mark’s singing began to annoy you now, the whole restaurant flooding with the same catchy chorus, most eaters now also craning their necks to watch the colorful group dance in sync. 

“Could you stop?” you said suddenly, and Mark turned to you with a confused expression. 

“Stop what?” he asked, questioning your sudden change of tone. 

You didn’t answer, prodding at the noodles left in your bowl with chopsticks. The song overhead finished, transitioning to a slower song sung by a Korean woman this time.

“Y/n?” Mark asked again, waving a hand in front of you as your brows furrowed relentlessly at the dinner in front of you. 

“Nothing,” you replied. “I was talking to my chopsticks. Sorry.”

Mark nodded, glancing back up at the screen and evidently thinking nothing of it. “She’s good,” he said. “Do you think she’s actually playing the piano?”

You didn’t answer, your brain and heart still racing with emotions that made you want to scream from atop a skyscraper. Any appetite you previously had for celebration dissipated quickly. 

*

Their group wasn’t bad. Not by any means. 

You did your research carefully, strategically logging out of your shared Youtube account with Mark to binge their music videos and interviews. 

Felix seemed to have gone through a million different hair colors already. Black, green, silver, red, pink, even a long blonde wig which you liked more than you cared to admit. 

You watched his interviews, picking him out from the group of 8 every time, keeping your focus on his mannerisms and crafted responses to superficial questions. 

You quickly came to realize not much had changed about him. They dubbed him brownie boy- a name which you chuckled at in a melancholy tone, remembering the taste of them all too well. He loved dancing. He smiled after almost everything he said. His freckles were still his most prominent feature. 

He even spoke of his hometown, telling an interviewer how much he’d hoped to visit again someday. Something you scoffed at, knowing all too well he must be too caught up in the glitz and glamor to give two shits about all of this. 

It became an addiction for a few weeks, picking apart anything he said and interpreting where he’d been, what he’d seen out there. Who he might have fucked after you. 

But the clips pointed you nowhere, filling your mind with useless knowledge about his various taekwondo medals and first impressions of his members. 

And just like it entered, your new fixation exited your routine suddenly. 

You tossed your phone on your bed one night, letting out an exasperated sigh after closing three tabs of useless articles and finding nothing in them. 

“You good?” Mark asked. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Just stressed.”

He turned to face you, placing his phone down by his pillow as well.

“Is it that new thing at work?”

You rested your cheek on your hand, turning to face him too, noting the genuine look of care in his widened eyes. 

“Yeah,” you replied. “Something like that.”

He held his gaze on yours for a minute, his eyes stretching into a smile as he let out a little laugh. 

“Well you know I’m always here for you. Do you want to, like, talk about it or something?”

You smiled back at him, shaking your head in response. 

There was no feasible explanation as to why you were bothered by the whole thing. The whole affair was nearly 5 years old now- you were a completely different person at that time. Maybe it was the idea of giving your body to someone who was so unchanged by it, he’d moved on to a whole new life without so much as a phone call. You loved Mark. You wouldn’t trade the relationship between you two for anything- or rather, anyone. But the pent up anger from being a side piece to someone who only pretended to care about you to get in your pants was hard to ignore. 

“Y/n?” Mark interrupted, and your gaze snapped back to his, humming in question.

“I asked if you were in the mood tonight.” He repeated shyly.

“Oh, uh. Yeah! Sure.” You tried to slide your shorts off awkwardly, the knot on your waistband getting stuck as you rushed to fulfill his ask. 

“Stupid pants,” you said, fumbling clumsily with them and quickly getting angry.

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything tonight. I’m kinda beat anyway.”

You fiddled with the knot some more, keeping your gaze away from his now, hoping he wouldn’t notice any change in your demeanor. 

“No no, it’s cool,” you replied dryly. “Seriously, I want to.”

Mark reached over, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead and retying the string on your pajama shorts. 

“I’m not doing anything when you’re all distracted. It’s not right. Go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll go somewhere for breakfast, yeah?”

With one hand gently grazing over your stomach, he reached over your small frame, turning out the lamp and pulling you closer as darkness washed over the room. A small sliver of moonlight through the window shone over your face, and you hoped Mark wouldn’t notice the single tear running down your cheek. 

*

“Do the wires in your mind get sewn together, rubbed and severed by the heat?”

The whole thing was stupid. You knew that, and you couldn’t keep doing this to Mark. 

He’d been there for you since the start of your life without Felix, and you never had to doubt the love he had for you. Mark was a permanent fixture in your otherwise monotonous life and the only interesting thing about it, at that. 

Maybe this was the universe’s way of reminding you to be grateful for what was here.

And that you were. You made it up to Mark several times since that week, surprising him with new lingerie sets when you could, and cooking a week’s worth of his favorite meals. 

“It’s not even my birthday…” he’d always remark through hungry kisses, barely having time to set aside his briefcase before you dropped to your knees and finished him off right there in the hallway. 

And things seemed to go back to normal. 

Or at least you thought. 

The business campaign you were working on was stressful- that, you hadn’t lied to Mark about. 

Late nights turned into early mornings in front of your laptop, typing away at spreadsheets and pulling together presentation decks for your boss.  

Mark typically knew when to leave you alone, only interrupting to bring you hot coffee and little snacks late into the night, until he’d fall asleep in the bedroom and wait for you to join. Sometimes, your work consumed your ability to sleep. 

Tonight, after dinner, Mark tended to his usual routine of brewing you a cup of coffee, knowing it was going to be another late night for you. 

Just a few more days of this, you promised him.

He wasn’t mad at your dedication to your work, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss cuddling in bed together. 

“Shit,” you heard him say loudly. “We’re out of creamer.”

You glanced up over your laptop. 

“Darn. I’ll just have it plain.”

He bent down to the first level of the fridge, peering around like a bottle might suddenly appear. 

“Nah, I’ll go buy some. I’ll just be a few,” he said, closing the door and adjusting the knit black beanie on his head.

You looked up at him again, feeling a sense of guilt as he scanned the granite counter for his car keys.

“No no, you stay,” you said to him, lowering your laptop screen but not closing it fully. “I’ll go. I need a break anyway.”

He cocked his head a little. “I don’t even think the grocery store is open this late. Let me go to the convenience store and get one of those small cartons.”

You shook your head again, standing up and reaching for the keys that had been in your eyesight the whole time. 

“I’ll go to the one further away. No biggie.”

Mark smirked a little as you pulled on your sneakers. “You’re getting in the way of my plan to secretly buy those cookies I like.”

You let out a gentle laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek and slinging your purse over your shoulder. 

“Was already on my shopping list, silly.”

“Love you!” He shouted behind you, laughing as you jokingly waved him off and made your way to your car.

Your favorite convenience store was a few minutes away, by your parents’ house. They didn’t have an extensive selection of groceries, but they did have vanilla coffee creamer, and Mark’s favorite cookies. And that was enough to keep you coming back. 

It was the same convenience store you’d practically grown up at, piling rice balls and mochi donuts on the counter after every drunken night out. 

So much that the staff knew you by name, often “forgetting” to scan an item or two and keeping it a secret from the store manager. 

The little bell chime indicated your entrance, and right away you were met with enthusiastic greetings from the employees. 

“Y/n!” the regular employee exclaimed, ushering you to the newly placed display of rice balls. 

You chuckled in response. “Just here for creamer, actually! But that is very tempting.”

You made your way around the display to the fridge, grabbing two bottles and hastily finding your place in line.

Only two people stood in front of you, and you scrolled through social media on your phone as they rang up their items and trickled out of the store. 

At your turn, you placed both bottles on the counter, suddenly remembering Mark’s cookies you’d forgotten. “Sorry, let me grab one more thing!”

You sauntered two aisles down to the cookies while the cashier scanned, and then stopped when you noticed one box left on the shelf. One that was already being carefully examined by another shopper. 

Feeling a sense of discouragement, you pretended to look over the other options, knowing very well Mark didn’t like just any option. He was always very passionate in his request for jam-filled shortbreads. 

The shopper stood tall, back faced to you, as they scanned the nutrition labels and shifted the box around in their grip. 

Just decide, you urged them mentally. 

“Excuse me, are there any more of those?” You spoke suddenly, surprising yourself with your rather sharp tone. 

He turned on his heel, a serious expression on his face as his eyes met with the rushed voice. 

And you knew immediately. 

Despite the black beanie pulled snugly over his locks, oversized hoodie that swallowed his figure, and a thin black mask covering his nose and mouth, you knew in his eyes. 

Almond brown eyes filled with warmth and intensity, offset by the familiar beige galaxies that scattered across his eyelids, the rest concealed by his dark mask. What a shame it was, to cover something so beautiful. 

You could tell he knew, too, his gaze fixated on yours for a minute, saying nothing as he maintained his tenacious grip on the cardboard box. Your thoughts ran at a record pace, swirling around your head like harsh waves in a tsunami, searching for something- anything to cling on to. 

Say nothing, you told yourself. Leave. 

And before he could get a word out, you dropped your gaze to the tiled floor below him. “Nevermind. You can keep them.”

The convenience store spun all around you, much like the storm brewing in your head, as you practically sprinted back to the counter and slapped a twenty in front of the employee, who’d already bagged your coffee creamers. 

“Keep the change,” you said to him, before snatching the bag off the counter and making a beeline for your car. 

Your hands shook as you put the key in the ignition, seeing him exit the store out of your peripheral vision. Like a lost animal searching for safety, his head scanned over the cars in the parking lot, stopping in dismay as he recognized you again, this time through your foggy car window. 

Your head remained straight, forced tunnel vision on the giant soda advert plastered on the window of the store in front of you. 

And without so much as a glance in his direction, you made your way out of the lot and back toward your apartment. 

*

Hours spent replaying the interaction in your head quickly turned to days, and Mark could tell once again that something wasn’t right. You felt yourself sink back into that place of uncertainty and unresolved doubts. 

On top of that, your daily routine was beginning to drive you crazy. Wake up, work, come home, work. 

Sleep. Repeat. 

It also didn’t help that things between you and Mark had fallen tense in the past few weeks. 

Nights you worked late, he often did too, staying at the lab for a few hours extra and coming home more tired than ever. You tried to initiate intimacy with him, but it seemed he was the one declining lately. 

During your few minutes together before work, you broke the groggy silence to speak. 

“I need to go to my parents’ for a few days.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, cocking his head while chewing his toast. “Your parents’ place? Like, across town? Why?”

You shrugged, swirling a spoon around in your bowl of cereal. 

“I need some time. And space.”

He swallowed his bite of toast dramatically. “Are you- I mean, are we okay?”

You reassured him with a small smile. “Yeah, we’re okay. It’s just the stress of work and life. Want to make sure I get time to say hi to mom and dad, you know?”

Mark nodded. “Yeah, for sure. When are you planning on going?”

You got up from your seat at the table, bringing your bowl to the sink and giving it a light rinse. “Tonight. I’m just gonna pack a bag and go straight there after work. I already let my boss know I’ll be out for a couple days.”

Mark nodded again. “Okay, well say hi to them for me. I’ll hold down the fort over here.”

You walked over to him, pressing a little kiss to his temple, and grabbed your laptop.

“We’re okay,” you repeated. “And I love you.”

He didn’t respond, looking down  at his food as he pondered your words.

You left for work earlier than usual, stuffing a duffel bag of clothes in your trunk and letting your parents know you’d be there later. The work day went by slowly, projects and emails confirming that you did indeed need a few days away from all this. By the time the end of the day finally rolled around, you wasted no time booking it to your car and changing out your heels for a pair of sneakers. 

*

Your childhood home was on the other side of town, but the rush hour of traffic on a Friday evening doubled the time it took for you to get there. When you did, mom was already out for her night shift, and dad wasn’t even home for the week. 

Maybe coming here for the purpose of saying hi to mom and dad was a bit of a lie. But you had been honest to Mark about needing time and space. And several days off. Days you hoped to spend curled up in your childhood bed catching up on sleep. 

Your room was largely unchanged. There were still little holes scattered on the walls from where your posters were hung with thumbtacks, but the walls remained void of any new decor. The carpet was the same too, down to the prominent coffee stain you’d gotten on it nearly a decade ago. Your window still gave a clear view of the streets beyond yours, framed artistically by overgrown vines in the front yard.  

With a deep sigh, you leaned against the frame of the sill, soaking in the familiarity of it all. It was just like you remembered, and a part of you almost hoped you’d see something different. Maybe even someone. 

There was no doubt that the room brought memories of Felix flooding right back. You still remembered the way he’d knock on your window, always giving three straight thumps so you’d know it was him. A habit you found funny, remembering that he’d warn you not to open the window for any less than 3 knocks- because “2 knocks could be a serial killer’s greeting. And one knock could be a bear.”

These walls had heard some of the most obscene confessions, seen some of the most indecorous outfits you’d wear for him and only him. And yet, you found solace in knowing that they also housed some of the most intimate crying sessions, giddy laughter, and a blossoming relationship that would follow you so many years later. 

You stepped away from the window, finally making way to your bed and lying down with an exasperated sigh. Maybe a part of you hoped Felix was still in town. Maybe a part of you even came here on the off-chance he would come visit. 

Thoughts you shoved to the back of your mind, not having the emotional capacity to deal with the idea that you longed to experience it all over again. 

*

Mornings in your parents’ house were nothing like the way they were at Felix’s. Mom was always asleep for the day, having come home early in the morning from her shift. Dad usually wasn’t home. 

Such was the way things were when you awoke the next morning, birds chirping outside your window to indicate the start of a new, sunny day. You rolled over in your tangled sheets, squinting heavy eyes at your alarm clock and catching a glimpse of the time.

9:46am.

You’d surprised yourself with how tired you were, stretching your limbs lazily and staring at the blank ceiling above you. When you finally sat up in bed, the smell of breakfast hit your nose instantly. 

The house filled with scents of grilled meat and freshly brewed coffee, and you could make out the faint noises of the toaster popping and oil sizzling. 

Mom must have prepared breakfast for your return today. You wasted no time putting on your house slippers and bolting out the door to greet her, already appreciative of her kind gesture. When you turned the corner into the kitchen, a foreign sight caught you off guard. 

Your mom stood in front of the stove, scrambling eggs around in a frying pan as you’d predicted. 

And sat at the dinner table, stuffing forkfuls of Canadian bacon and sips of hot coffee in his mouth, was Felix. 

You audibly gasped, and Felix looked up from his plate to acknowledge you. 

He wore a plain white t-shirt, his straight hair hung loosely around his face with no particular placement, yet still somehow perfectly styled. 

A pair of silver earrings dangled by his neck as he looked up at you, mouth full of food. In an instant, he pushed his chair out from behind him and stood up, saying nothing as he continued to chew. Without the ability to talk, he gave you a small wave, which you ignored. 

You were suddenly self-conscious of your own appearance, looking far too casual in a tank top and shorts, house slippers loudly announcing you’d only just woken up. Your hair was still in yesterday’s work bun almost falling out of the flimsy hair tie, and the lack of makeup was more than hard on the eyes. 

Before he could finish chewing to get a sentence out, you shouted out to your mom, who still hadn’t noticed your arrival. “Taking a really important work call in the other room, could you keep it down please?”

She shouted back over the loud sounds of oil sizzling. 

“Sure thing, but look who’s here! Ah, it’s burning! Hold on,” And she turned her attention back to the stove. 

You looked over at Felix again, who’d finished chewing at this point, still standing awkwardly in front of his plate and fiddling his hands together like a lost child. 

“Oh… it’s nice to meet you.” You said, with a little bow, turning around quickly and disappearing back into your room. 

You refused to entertain this. You weren’t going to give him what he wanted, to pretend he was interested in your life just to get in your pants one more time. You’d humiliated yourself enough the first time. 

Back in your room, you locked the door with force and shoved your desk chair under the knob, triple-checking to ensure it couldn’t be opened. You shut the blinds and hopped back into your bed, wrapping the comforter around you and trying your best to steady your breathing. But it was no use; the tears began anyway. 

You can’t remember how long you cried- it must have been hours before you drifted off to sleep again. When you woke up for the second time that day, it was well past 5 in the afternoon. 

Your skin was sticky with sweat and your hair was begging to be let out of its knotted mess. When you rolled out of bed, a pounding headache made itself present. Crying and sleeping for hours were always a lethal combination. 

After a long shower and some time to think it over, you felt small and stupid again. Were you doing the right thing? What was the point of coming here if not for closure? Why were you even here? 

A fleeting voice told you to ditch the whole trip and go back to the apartment. Back to your safe space with Mark, where the two of you could marathon dumb movies and make love on the couch like you always did. 

But you quickly dismissed the thought, reminding yourself that you weren’t going to let some dumb fling drive you away from a much-needed vacation at your parents’ place. When you confirmed that the coast was clear, you made your way back out to the kitchen, where your mom sat at the dinner table with a book. 

“Hi honey,” she said. “We waited for you, figured you got caught up in that work call of yours.” A slight raise of her eyebrow indicated she knew. 

You sighed, sitting on the chair across from her. 

“Want to tell me what happened?” She asked. 

You shook your head. “Things are just difficult right now. I don’t want to get caught up in… things that I shouldn’t.”

She nodded, setting her book down. “He left you a little gift in the corridor.”

Then she got up from her seat and hoisted her purse over her shoulder. “Leaving for the evening- make sure you lock all the windows before you sleep.”

When she was out of sight, you made your way to the corridor, finding a little white box on the console table by the entrance. It was wrapped neatly with a blue ribbon, in typical Felix fashion. You pulled one end, watching the tie come undone, and carefully lifted one end to reveal the contents inside. 

The scent hit you before the sight, and you knew instantly. His signature baked goods. 

*

You were up much earlier the next morning. The fresh summer air beckoned you to go outside, which you did, completing an almost 3-mile jog. Post-exercise, you ate a full breakfast, and then called Mark, his phone going straight to voicemail. 

It wasn’t typical of Mark to sleep in, but you knew he was busy at the lab late these days, so you opted for a quick text instead. 

Late night again? Call me when you can. Love you :)

There was something so freeing about having no plans, no to-do list, and better yet, no monotonous routine like you had most days.It was like you could do anything you wanted while you were here- which you did. You watched old reruns of cartoons, flipped through ancient yearbooks kept in boxes out in the storage shed, and even repaired some of the flawed spots on your walls with a can of white paint you found. You also finished piles of chores around the house for your parents, going so far as to fold and hang all their laundry for them. By the time you’d put away the last of the socks, it was well past 5 in the afternoon. 

The loud sound of the doorbell startled you from inside your parents’ shared closet. Had they been expecting any packages? The gardener, perhaps? You cautiously made your way to the front door, smoothing down your blouse and adjusting your shorts that had ridden up while you worked. You unlatched the door and opened it, feeling a drop in your chest as you locked eyes with the figure. 

“Hi,” he said, keeping his gaze locked on yours. 

You cleared your throat. “Hi…Can I…help you?”

His lips parted slightly, closing again as his expression changed to that of dejection. 

“Um… I just came to drop this off.” 

You looked at his hands; which clutched a little white envelope. 

“Okay,” you replied, reaching out to take it from him. He pulled his hands back a little so that the envelope was just out of reach. 

You looked up at him again with a questioning look. 

“Did I… I mean, how are you?” He asked awkwardly. 

“Me?” You said in reply, feeling annoyed at his persistence for an interaction. “Is this a new mailman greeting? I’m good. Can I get my mail now?”

Your heart dropped as soon as you finished speaking. It was a despicable bit you kept up, enough to hurt even yourself. 

His lips pulled together in a thin line, raising his eyebrows and looking down at his feet. 

“Ouch. Yeah, here you go.” He handed you the envelope, turning around and marching off without a word. 

You watched his head hang as he took confident strides away from you, getting farther out of reach with each passing second. 

“Wait,” you called after him, a moot point as he only kept walking. 

As soon as he was out of sight, you slammed the front door, eyes welling up with tears as you slid down the door and dropped to the floor. Why had you said something so stupid? You imagined yourself in his shoes briefly, shaking your head at the thought of him reducing your existence to that of a delivery person.

It was the third time this week you’d fucked up a chance at making amends with Felix. And by far the worst one- there was no way he’d be back any time soon. Or ever again, for that matter. 

You wiped tears with the back of your hand, suddenly remembering the letter he came here to drop off. After a few deep breaths, you examined it in your shaky hands, thumbing over the ink on the back that spelled your name. His handwriting looked the same as it did so many years ago- so neat and carefully placed. You tore it open timidly, pulling out a little yellow card. 

Y/n,

It’s been a while

I hope you still like brownies!

I’m going to the new coffee shop across the street tomorrow if you’d like to join

9am?

PS- I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced!

You read the letter once, then twice, then six more times before you could even comprehend what it was. 

Despite your ingenuous behavior all week, he was still willing to try and fix things with you. That was, up until a few minutes ago. The invitation still sat in your hand, but it would be a miracle if he agreed to go anywhere near you after the stunt you pulled. 

You tossed the letter aside, burying a tear-stained face in your hands as you began to cry again at the thought that you’d likely never see him again. 

He’d slipped through your fingers yet again, only this time, it was entirely your fault. 

*

“You’re wasting your time with lame excuses and lies”

Why were you even trying? In what universe would Felix agree to see you again after the stunt you pulled? 

It didn’t matter. Chalk it up to pure delusion and naivety, but you were up bright and early, all dressed up and ready to meet for coffee with him. If he didn’t show, you’d surely owe him an apology, which your ego silently prayed you wouldn’t have to track him down to deliver. And if he did, things would be unbearably awkward. You’d lose either way- but that’s not to say he hadn’t already had his share of loss dealing with your abhorrent attitude. 

You were grateful you packed some of your nicer clothes while you stayed at your parents’. You’d settled on a feminine white peasant top, a pair of fitted slacks, and spent the morning curling your hair to convince him you weren’t always an unpresentable slob despite the way you’d appeared all week. 

When you arrived, the shop was teeming with young couples and coffee connoisseurs. The lively atmosphere combined with gloomy warm lighting made for a romantic date location- forcing you to remind yourself that this was not in fact a date. You verily assumed it to be a working session- one where you two would sort out the awkward encounters and establish boundaries again. Followed by some brief small talk and a proper send-off so that you could finally shut him out of your mind for good. 

A short staircase led you to the upper level, where most of the tables were neatly decorated with glass vases of daisies that thrived in the sun beams illuminated along the rows of windows. You clutched your bag, looking around nervously and trying your best to steady the rapid thump of your heartbeat in your throat. Couples. Couples. A family. A pair of sisters. 

And on the last table, Felix. 

He looked mature in a sleek white turtleneck and dangly silver earrings, his ashy locks tucked neatly behind both ears. As you approached the table, he looked up for a brief second, shifting his eyes away once again as you pulled out the chair across from him and took a seat. 

You waited for him to say something, which he didn’t. 

Conversely, your pride didn’t allow you to speak first. 

“You’re blonde,” you said suddenly, your voice coming out much shakier than you had anticipated. 

He focused on you again, expression unchanged. 

“So you do remember me.”

Link to part 2 here

[chuckchuck228]

fuck this

FREE PALESTINE!

Yes. I was avoiding talking about politics as long as I could because I was scare to post about it but fuck this. This is my blog and I post what ever I want. Plus THIS IS IMPORTANT!

I don't have proper donation links(because almost all of them dont work in Russia >:c) BUT!!!! I have one link that you should click if you want to help Palestine but can't donate(you broke or you can't donate from your region(like Russia)):

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You can also make more than just one click if you have different devises(like if you have phone and pc. I do this like this and boom! 2 clicks!)

It's okay if you scared to talk about this. I was scared. But even if you silent you can still help by doing clicks or donations(if you can)

[whiskeynwriting]

How the Boys Act With Their Brand New Babies

Captain John Price, John “Soap” McTavish, König, Simon “Ghost” Riley

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Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Pregnancy, descriptions of birth (natural and cesarean), breastfeeding, established relationships/marriages, mentions of drugs (during C-Section), godparents, and I think that’s it! 

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A/N: The baby fever is so real you guys. Also, the only one out of this group that screams “boy dad” is Price and no one can change my mind.

Thank you so so much to @thesleepingmusicneek for helping me with beta-reading and general plot additions with this piece and so many others I've posted recently 🥰🥰🥰

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Masterlists - Price | Soap | König | Ghost |

Join My Taglist!

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Captain John Price (~1k words) 

Benjamin Price

John’s base instinct is “protector and provider” and Lord does that skyrocket with your son.

“No.”

“John.”

“I said no, not happening.” Turning, he held your son out of your mother’s reach. “She hasn’t washed her hands.”

Chuckling, you crossed your arms. “Baby, I think it’ll be o -”

Reaching over to grab a bottle of hand sanitizer, he held it out to your mother. “At least sanitize.”

There was something ridiculously funny about John, your hardened soldier, holding onto this pudgy, little baby. And what made it even funnier, was that Benji had a straight face nearly the entire time; staring over at his grandmother as if to say, do what my daddy says. John and his son were two peas in a damn pod. 

Watching others hold his baby wasn’t an easy task. Regardless of whether or not they were family, it made his palms sweat, made his breaths shallow and fingers fidgety. What if they dropped him? Pinched him too hard? Bounced him too fast? Made him frown or cry? And by the time his thoughts started spiraling, he’d just get up and snatch him right back. 

While John was more than proud to show off your little family, he might as well have “look, don’t touch” painted across his forehead. Even his own parents didn’t have access to Benji unless they followed his standards. And family friends? Strangers at the park? Yeah, they can forget even saying hi to him. 

“He is a cutie, isn’t he?” John beamed, nodding along to one of your friend’s comments. “Hey,” He then said, holding out a hand. “What’re you doing?”

“Oh, I was just going to hold his little hand!”

“I don’t think so, Deb.”

“John, she’s only being nice.” Chastising him lightly, you tilted your head with sympathy. 

“Nice or not, she’s not touching my son.”

John acted as if everyone was out to snatch up his son and take off running. And he didn’t care if he hurt anyone’s feelings in the process of protecting him. 

“Love, you’ve got to be nicer.”

“Why?”

“Because these are our friends, our family!”

“Just keeping him safe,” He then turned to the chubby bundle in his arms. “That’s all.”

As per usual, Benji had that straight look on his face, expression matching that of his father. And Christ, do they look alike. He’s practically a carbon copy of John. 

Shaking your head, you chuckle. “You and your mini me.”

And John’s face lifts with the brightest grin, cheeks cherry red with happiness. “Handsome chap.” He says, bouncing Benji on his lap. 

Try as you might, there’s no changing John’s mind. In order to keep your baby boy happy and healthy, everyone and everything had to be clean. John ran a tight ship, something you’ve gotten used to in your marriage. And, you figure, in the end it’s only helping Benji. 

When it came to the birth of your son, John made sure to have a plan. You and your doctors discussed a scheduled C-Section beforehand, and the two of you adapted well to this. They informed you of every detail, and after that, you discussed things on your own end. Back at home, John helped you devise a game plan, a list of things that you’d need and the exact steps to take when the day came. And when the moment finally arrived, everything went surprisingly smooth. 

While it was difficult for John to see you under the influence of so many narcotics, that was the least of his worries. During your procedure, he focused on yours and the baby’s health. And even though you weren’t entirely conscious, he made sure to stay by your side. While you bore the weight of the most intense struggles, your husband intended to take on the burdens of every other task that he possibly could. That meant aiding in your recovery, and your son’s growth. 

Once home, John was your round-the-clock nurse. On a timed schedule, he’d clean your incision and make sure it was healing well. He kept your nightstand fully stocked with water and pain medicine, as well as your comfiest heating pad. The ensuite had all the postpartum pads you could need, and he never left you alone in the shower. When it came to Benji, John did all of the nighttime feedings, and all of the nappie changings. He didn’t want you lifting a single finger, not while you were resting. 

In the evening, John often cuddled in bed with you, bringing Benjamin along to nestle between your bodies. You both admired him, pet him softly and kissed his little hands and big, round belly. It was mesmerizing to you, the fact that you created this perfect, little soul. And while you focused your affections on your newborn son, you and John made sure to save some of it for each other, too. 

“Beautiful.”

“I know,” Cooing quietly, you smiled down at him. 

“No,” Shaking his head, John drew your attention back to him. “You, lovie.”

“I’ve been in bed for three days, this isn’t beautiful.” While you laugh, John tuts sadly.

“Don’t know how you could be so blind.”

But what you certainly aren’t blind to, is John’s unconditional love. And that is more healing to you than any medication on the market. 

Though, that doesn’t stop the rest of the boys from trying. In their thoughtfulness, Johnny and Kyle have brought you gift baskets full of after-pregnancy goodies. Snacks and sweet drinks, fuzzy socks and cute onesies for little Benji. They were even kind enough to include postpartum pads. 

“You guys are too much.” In the midst of it all, tears roll down your cheeks. 

Shrugging, Kyle just grins. “Least I can do for my godson.” 

Out of the entire group, John was the first to have a baby. And he wasted no time in making Kyle Benjamin’s godfather. And the boys understood; John and Kyle had a bond that exceeded brotherhood. 

Of course, Simon tagged along. But he wasn’t exactly familiar with babies. Soap encouraged him to bring a gift, but all he could come up with was an Amazon gift card. 

“I um, well… here. For his… things.” Ghost handed you the card awkwardly, but you smiled brightly regardless. 

“Thank you, Simon.” Bringing him into a firm hug, he released a soft grunt, eventually patting your back. 

“Alright, alright.” Johnny announces, “I think it’s time, Cap. Where’s that baby?”

Christ sake, John internally groans. “Have you sanitized?” 

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John “Soap” McTavish (~1.2k words)

Elsie McTavish

Is so excited about the baby that he sometimes forgets himself.

“I know, I know.” He’d respond, only half annoyed.

“Just, p-please,” Reaching out with shaky hands, you watched as Johnny swung your newborn infant around in his arms. “Watch her head!”

“Aye,” Johnny sighs, rolling those beautiful blue eyes. 

Pulling her to his chest, he lets her head rest on one of those broad shoulders, bouncing a bit as he pats her on the back.

“How’mie supposed to have fun with my daughter if ye won’t stop nit-pickin’?” 

“Baby, I’m just, I want her to be -”

“Safe, I know, bonnie. She is safe with me.” He then grins, turning to your daughter as he holds her up in front of him. “Aren’t ye, wee lassie? 

And you suppose he’s right. Being a helicopter parent isn’t fun for anybody. Besides, Johnny loves your daughter enough to keep her safe and you should trust him with her. 

“Ohh,” Johnny starts, and you think, here we go again. “Elsie and her daddy, say he’s a good ‘ole laddie. He’ll keep you safe and happy. We’ll play all day and sing away, yes Elsie and her daddy.” 

Your husband’s makeshift songs never ceased to put a smile on your face. Johnny was always a fun and carefree man, but with your daughter? He was the goofiest dad. 

Whenever you needed rest, he’d jump right to his feet, swooping in to take her to wherever she needed to be. The changing table for a new nappie, the kitchen for a bottle, or simply to the couch to give you some much-needed alone time. There was never a complaint, never a sigh or roll of his eyes. Oftentimes, you’d stumble into a room to find Johnny enjoying himself even more than Elsie. He became so animated when reading books to her, acting out scenes and making the noises of each animal. And it made her giggle wildly. He’d fidget with the toys on her playmat while she laid with him, roll the rattles around and build with the rings and blocks. But most of all, he’d interact with her. Regardless of her being barely two months old, Johnny had full-on conversations with your daughter.

“And then what happened?” He’d ask, sounding completely interested. And she’d babble back to him, as if she was truly joining in.

Nodding, he raised his brows. “That’s wild, lass. Shouldn't have to put up with that.”

Another babble, a little giggle. 

“Aye, nothing wrong with that.”

Sometimes, she’d slam her little hand, and Johnny would raise his own in defense. “Oi, no need to get political about it.” 

Johnny’s newest baby obsession is doing her hair. She was born with so much of it that he decided one day, he ought to do something about it. And so, he bought a pack of colorful bows, using them to make a little mohawk in her hair. You happened to walk in on him in the middle of it one day, your daughter sitting on his lap and cooing innocently while he made her look like a rockstar. 

When he looked up to find you in the doorway, he grinned. “Like it?” 

And you’d be daft to say it wasn’t the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Your husband truly embraced the excitement and general fun of fatherhood. He figured enough seriousness surrounded her birth, why not make the rest of her life as joyful as can be? 

It was an emergency C-Section, something neither of you were prepared for. There was no question of whether or not he’d be in the room with you, he simply put on the plastic hospital gown and cap and followed you in. His hand didn’t leave yours, not even for a second. Even though you were given medicine to dull the pain and any real feeling, he wanted you to know he was there. 

When your daughter was successfully taken from your womb, things finally started calming down. After that, your health went back to normal. You didn’t lose too much blood, your stitches went in properly, and you were wheeled back to your room to start your recovery. Johnny was thanking the Lord that the two of you made it out okay, that both of his girls were safe. And while he waited for you to wake up, he sat in the room with your newborn baby, laying her over his chest while she slept. 

“Little bonnie,” He whispered, kissing her head. “My Elsie girl.”

It was at that moment that she became his new best friend, his partner in crime, his perfect angel. He saw it as a privilege, really, taking care of you in your recovery while also caring for Elsie. Not everyone has this, he often thought to himself. My wonderful family.

And he couldn’t wait to show off his little clan. 

As soon as she was ready for visitors, he invited everyone he possibly could. Friends, family, an entire get together just for her. And she was definitely her father’s daughter, blue eyes bright with excitement as each and every person greeted her with delight. Ever the extrovert herself, she giggled for hours, bouncing on people’s laps as they each took turns entertaining her. 

“Oh, oh! And watch this!” Johnny says, setting down his glass and leaning toward his little girl. “Elsie, look at daddy!” And that’s just what she does, watching as Soap widens his eyes with his brows raised high. Perfectly, she mimics him. 

“The smartest little thing!” Her nanny cheered, clapping with pride. 

“Ah ken, ma!” Johnny responds to his mum, agreeing with her wholeheartedly. “She’s just a wee little thing, already clever as wits.” 

And your side of the family couldn’t possibly be more proud. They’d been waiting for ages to have a grandbaby, and knew if they waited for the right time, you and Johnny would give them just that. 

“Oh, what’s this about?” You chime in, frowning when Elsie suddenly begins to cry. 

“She’s hungry, eh?” Your husband chuckles, reaching out to stroke her mini hand. “Go on then, go to mummy.”

The two of you were lucky enough to have a respectful family, entirely understanding of whenever you needed to take her away for a feeding. And oftentimes, Johnny would come with you. He saw it as a bonding moment, for all three of you. When he first asked, he seemed incredibly timid about it, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But you thought it sweet; him holding you, while you held your baby, lulling her to sleep with your warm milk.

“She’s dozing.” Johnny whispers into your ear, head dipping to kiss your shoulder.

Together, you’d gone up to your marital bedroom, sitting up on your bed. Johnny’s back rested against the headboard, while your own rested against his firm chest. He’d butterfly his legs out, welcoming you between them and holding you close with every limb. And sitting like this, is when Elsie was the coziest. 

“You’re amazin’, bonnie.” Keeping his voice hush, Johnny rests his chin on your shoulder, admiring your baby from above. “Thank you, so much.”

“What for, baby?”

“For givin’ me her, our sweet Elsie. And just… bein’ with me. You’re everything to me.” 

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König (~1.2k words)

Gisela and Avelina

He had been enamored since the moment the test showed positive. 

The word paternal is the perfect description for him. Even before having a baby in his arms, König embraced fatherhood wholeheartedly. He read all the baby books, took you to all your classes and participated equally in them. Every night, he’d sit by your tummy and read, talk to the baby and sing German lullabies. He thought he had everything figured out, thought he was prepared in every way. 

That is, until he learned that there were two of them. 

“I… I can’t believe it.”

“Oh my gosh…”

Your collective shock made the doctor giggle, continuing to inform you that not only were they identical, they were girls.

“Daughters,” König then said, eyes widening. “Two daughters…”

Worry began to swirl inside your belly from his words, his hesitancy. Glancing up at him from your lying position, you asked quietly, “Are you not… you’re not happy?”

“My love,” Releasing a quick breath, he knelt by your side, immediately taking your hand. “I couldn’t be happier.” And he was beaming. “Daughters, Schatz. We’re going to have two little girls.” (Sweetheart)

And to prepare for their arrival, he bought nearly everything in sight. 

“Schatz, look! Look at what I bought for them.” (Sweetheart) 

Lumbering in with three shopping bags, he sat you down in the living room to show you everything he got to welcome your baby girls into the family. One by one, he pulled each item out, displaying multiple onesies, mini dresses, bows for their hair, new blankets and swaddles, the list goes on. 

“So cute,” He muttered to himself, holding up a purple dress. And just hearing this mountain of a man use the word cute made you smile from ear to ear. 

“Gisela will wear pink,” Your husband decides, “And Avelina, she will dress in purple. Matching, but different, ja?”

When König found out he was having two babies, he knew he’d have no problem giving them both an equal amount of love. He never once worried about having to devote time to each of them, make them each feel cared for and adored. In his mind, it wasn’t even a question. He knew he had more than enough affection to give to each of his girls. 

He’d even gone out of his way to stock up on the essentials - diapers, creams, wipes and bottles. And although the twins won’t be able to use them for a few months, he also took it upon himself to buy some toys - mostly soft blocks, rattles, play mats, and stuffies. 

“They’re going to be spoiled.” You grinned, not the least bit annoyed by your husband’s overzealous preparation. How could anyone be annoyed by that? 

And now that they’re here, König finally has the opportunity to truly shower them with all his love. Every nighttime feeding was, in his words, their best time to bond. When the world is quiet, and you are finally resting, it’s just him and his daughters. And with his imaginative and resourceful talents, König figured out a way to tie their bottles to their little rockers, pushing the chairs back and forth as they ate. He never wanted to feed them one at a time, he thought it cruel to have one watch their sibling eat while they themselves were hungry. 

Whenever the girls were done eating, he’d hold them, lay them both over his broad, bare chest, allowing them to feel his warm skin. It comforted the girls, cuddling with their father. You thought maybe one of them might favor you, but that hope quickly dwindled. They are definitely daddy’s girls. But it was hard to be jealous when every one of this trio’s interactions were breathtakingly sweet. Their bond was something that genuinely brought a tear to your eye, in both sentimental and humorous ways.

“GG!” He calls to her, holding up his phone. This nickname for your gorgeous daughter came quickly, along with Gisela-Bella, Ella, and your personal favorite… “Meine Schnuckel!”

“What does that even mean?” Chuckling to yourself, you watch as Gisela’s father attempts to take a picture of her. 

“My cutie!” He answers cheerfully, your daughter looking right at him as soon as he says it. 

“Yes! Perfect, my beauties.” And then he’s leaning over to show you. “Look, look at them. The cutest things. I’m so happy Ava was already looking.”

Avenlina’s nicknames consisted of Ava, Lina-Ballerina, and… “My little Spatzi.”

As if responding to her German name, Avelina babbles back to her father, just like she always does. Between the two of them, she was certainly the talker, always chirping away, König’s little sparrow. 

The photo he shows you prompts a small laugh from your end, a wide smile growing across your lips. He’d dressed them up in the most adorables outfit you’d ever seen, strawberry and blueberry dresses. GG wore the pink one, of course, with Ava in blue. Each outfit had a berry hat and matching shoes, too. 

Genuinely, he could never get enough of them. Whether it was spoiling the girls with presents or giving them every bit of his time, your husband did everything he could to be the best father. But there were times he’d have no choice but to hand them over to you, their daytime feedings being one of those scenarios. Although, it’s not like he didn’t join you. 

Laying beside you in bed, he shifts onto his side, watching with love in his eyes. You’ve gotten used to feeding them both, being blessed with the ability to produce enough milk to sustain them. And while sitting back against the headboard, you do just that, rocking the girls gently as they drink. 

“She has my eyes, don’t you think?” Reaching over, König taps little Gisela’s chin.

And he’s right; her piercing blue gaze is just like his. “Absolutely.” 

“Sie sind so schön.” Whispering, he stares up at his daughters with sincere wonder in his eyes. “You made them.” (They are so beautiful)

“I know.” Giggling, you nod in response. “Do you think Ava has my nose?” You wonder aloud, watching as their eyelids begin to droop.

“Of course, that perfect little button.” He adds, gently booping his younger daughter’s nose. Though, only younger by two minutes.

Unable to help himself, König then leans in, placing a gentle kiss to Avelina’s head, being that she’s closest to him. And then one of those large hands is lifting, petting gently at his eldest’s thin, blonde hair.

“Let me put them to bed, Schatz.” (Sweetheart)

“No,” Whining quietly, you puff out your lower lip. “I wanna.”

It was something the two of you often ‘fought’ about; neither of you could get enough of your precious daughters. Even while giving birth, he practically tried to catch them with his bare hands. He was the first to hold them, each of them, even before they were placed on your chest. It made for quite the special moment, though. It was him who laid them onto you, one at a time, your little family coming together as you finally held your daughters, your sweet babies. 

To König, there was nothing more inspiring than seeing you give birth to his daughters. You were fierce, powerful, and he was there to support you every step of the way. Hell, he was practically your birthing coach. He cheered you, doted on you until you’d insisted you were okay. In his mind, no one could care for you or your daughters better than him. And that caring instinct only continues to grow as your family does. 

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Simon “Ghost” Riley (~1.3k words)

Charlotte Riley

Isn’t quite sure what to do, and always looks to you for guidance.

It’s not that Simon doesn’t love his daughter, or isn’t interested in her, he’s just afraid. Afraid he’ll hurt her, make her cry or just do something wrong. He’s so big and she’s just so… little. She’s the most precious, fragile thing he’s ever seen and honestly, he’s wondering how he was even capable of making her. 

“Do you want to hold her, Si?” Your voice is gentle, looking up at him with encouragement in your eyes. “She wants you.”

“I don’t know, love.” 

The huge, menacing man you grew to love was quickly dwindled down to a nervous wreck when it came to your newborn daughter. He’d wring his hands, rub the back of his neck and constantly shift his stance. When Charlotte was with you, he was calm. But in literally every other scenario, he felt like he was about to lose his head. 

During the birthing process, Simon was sweating bullets. You were in an ungodly amount of pain and he had no idea what to do, there wasn’t anything he could do. But after a moment, his instincts kicked in. Thanks to his background and general personality, his body often chooses to take action in these fight or flight instances. And he figured the best thing he could do was to just be there for you. He leaned down, wrapped an arm around your shoulder and kept his head right beside your own, holding your hand with his free one and letting you squeeze and claw him as hard as you needed to. You called out for him, crying miserably through the pain. It tore his insides to shreds, it was heart-wrenching. 

“I’m here, I promise I’m here. And you’re so strong, sweetheart. You can do this, you can.”

And now, it’s your turn to reassure him. 

“I promise it’ll be okay.” Pushing your folded arms out toward your husband, you bring her just a bit closer to him. “You don’t want to hold your baby?”

“I, I feel like…”

“Don’t be nervous, Si. She loves you, she trusts you. You can do this.”

He gulped then, eyes floating down to the small bundle in your hands. Only, it’s not just a small pile of blankets. It’s his daughter, his Lottie girl. And so, with a sigh, he nods, straightening his stance. 

I can do this.

With a smile on your face, you watch as he gently, slowly, takes her from your arms.

“How, how do I -”

“Support her head.” Answering softly, you show him just how to do it, gently maneuvering his strong arms and large hands. “There you go, just like that.” 

At first, you were annoyed with him. Did he not pay attention in your parenting classes? Did he not actually read the books you gave him? But an honest conversation quickly put those worries to rest. Simon did pay attention, he did read those books, he had all the knowledge he needed to succeed at this. But he just didn’t trust himself with it, with her. None of those classes prepared for him an actual baby. He thought he’d surely and properly fuck this up if given the chance, but right now, he’s proving himself wrong. 

“Look at you, Si.” The reassurance in your tone makes his heart beat with happiness and pride. All he wants to do is please you, both of you. 

Glancing down at his daughter, Simon nods, uttering a quiet yet confident, “Yeah…” 

But a breath of air is quickly sucked in when he sees her squirm, his body stiffening immediately. You hold out your hands and pause, urging him to just wait. And within seconds, she’s calming down again, tiny body snuggling into his chest. 

“She, um…”

“She loves you, baby.” Stepping closer, you slide a finger over her little hand, cooing, “You love your daddy, Lottie?”

“Stop it.” He orders playfully, eyes unwavering from Charlotte’s sweet face. And when you quirk a brow at him, he continues grumpily, “Making me all emotional.” 

But what you said was true, he can do this. He wants to do this. 

And he does. 

It takes less than a week for Simon to get used to this, becoming so comfortable with your daughter that he openly scoops her up from your arms whenever he pleases. He hasn’t quite gotten the hang of how to feed or burp her yet, but he has been helping you with diaper changes. He’ll watch you perform the task or explain a piece of it, and then he’ll do it, testing the waters a bit. It’s slow, but it’s progress. 

What helps with this is his best mate, having a baby of his own to demonstrate. 

“Hold the bottle like this.” Johnny instructs, showing Ghost how he holds his own daughter. “Yeah!”

“Alright,” Ghost nods, voice quiet and a bit shaky. 

Charlotte’s head rests on the bulk of Simon’s bicep, the rest of her body cradled on his lap. And with the bottle perfectly angled, she drinks easily and happily. Elsie does the same, but that’s nothing new. 

“Have you read to her?”

“Read to her? But… she doesn’t understand it, Johnny.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Soap shrugs, grabbing his baby’s backpack to pull out some of her favorite stories. Well, Johnny’s favorite stories. “Elsie loves it! Surely my little godlassie will, too.”

How that came about, nobody really knows. It sort of just… happened, the two of them being their daughter’s godfathers. Nobody fit the role better than them, it was just common knowledge. 

Opening an interactive tale about animals in the jungle, Johnny reads to the girls, their eyes watching him intently. Now that they’re done eating, they focus on Johnny and the way he’s speaking, his facial expressions and movements. 

“The monkey says… ooh! Ooh! Ooh!” Reaching forward, he quickly tickles their tummies, watching as they erupt into laughter. “Here Si, you give it a go.” 

Shoving the book into his hands, he watches his friend gulp. It’s as if an entire crowd is in front of him, and not his best friend and two baby girls. 

“The, um… the lion says… roar.” 

The girls do nothing, and Johnny rolls his eyes. “Oh, c’mon, put your heart into it! The lion says roar!”

Clearing his throat, Ghost nods, staring at the simple picture book. “The lion says… ROAR!”

But instead of giggling, the girls start crying, and Simon is tossing the book down in an instant. Scooping his daughter up into his arms again, he mutters a grumpy Christ while patting her back and bouncing her lightly.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Daddy’s sorry.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but Johnny can still hear him. And he smiles. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Keeping his chuckles to himself, Johnny then says, “Lottie’s got a great dad. I can tell.” 

“How in the bloody hell is this so hard?” His voice is still low, keeping his cheek beside her own in an attempt to comfort her. 

“You’ll get the hang of it.” Soap is resting easy, having calmed his daughter down in less than a minute. “What d’ya say we have a day together? Just us four?”

“And do… what?” Simon hasn’t yet mastered the art of interacting with his tiny baby. He doesn’t know what she’s receptive to. But how will he ever know if he never tries? 

“We can go to the zoo! Practice those lion roars.” Johnny jokes with a grin, watching his best mate roll his eyes. “Really though, it’ll be good for the girls.” And you, but he doesn’t say that part out loud. 

“That… actually sounds nice.” The hammering heartbeat in his chest has slowed now that his daughter has grown silent, only small coos slipping from her lips. 

Honestly, Simon doesn’t know what he’d do without you and Johnny. He’d be completely lost, and in more ways than one. But with your collective encouragement, he finds himself growing into his fatherly role more and more every day. 

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Bonus - Uncle!Price (~500 words)

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) Underage drinking, mentions of drug usage, partying. 

“You’re shitting me.” He says into the phone, dumbfounded. 

“I didn’t mean to, Pricey. Promise!”

Charlotte’s tone on the other end of the phone only makes the situation worse; she’s very clearly inebriated. The background noise doesn’t help the conversation, either, nothing but boisterous teenagers shouting and singing. 

“What pub are you at?”

“Not at one,” Hiccuping, she then swallows. “At a… party.”

“Christ, Lottie.” But he’s already walking out to his car and starting the engine. “Text me the address, lovie.”

“You won’t tell dad?” She whispers on the other end, as if Simon could somehow hear her.

“No, hun. But you’ve got to be better about this.”

It wasn’t the first time John had picked his niece up from a situation like this. Out of the group’s kids, she was definitely the partier. As soon as she hit her teenage years, she ran Simon up a goddamn wall. But she honestly didn’t mean to, she wasn’t a bad kid. She just sometimes got herself into bad situations. There had even been times at her friends' houses where she was uncomfortable and nervous, times when they’d bring hard drugs she wasn’t expecting or willing to experiment with. These situations made her far too nervous to contact her dad, fearing he’d just be angry with her. That’s where Uncle Price came in. 

Of course, if she was ever hurt or in serious danger, he’d tell her parents straight away. But in these types of situations, he figures he’s helping her dodge a bullet. He knows how harsh Simon can be, and after all, she’s just a teen. At the end of the day, she’s safe, and that’s what matters. 

“Thank you for calling me. Last thing we need is you driving like this, or driving with someone else like this.”

“Yeah…” Trailing off, she sighs. And in this small lull, John hears a familiar voice.

“Who -” He pauses, did he really just hear who he thought he heard?! “Who was that?!”

“Um… who?”

“You know who!” 

“Is he coming?” The voice then says, and Charlotte is quick to hush him. 

“Benjamin!” John shouts, eyes wide as he continues to drive. “You’re there too?!”

Handing the phone to her cousin, Benji gives the excuse of, “Had to look after her, da.” 

“Yeah, right job you did there.” His father returns, nodding. “Anyone else I should know about?”

“Well… maybe.”

“Elsie! C’mon! Uncle John is almost here!”

Christ sake. 

Groaning, John rubs the bridge of his nose. “You lot are out to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Nothing wrong with a bit of fun!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Rolling his eyes, he peers out the window while at a stop light.

Internally though, John is grinning. This entire situation is reminding him of his own memories, recalling the crazier nights of his youth. What an absolute shitshow, that was. And on top of that, he didn’t have the type of parents that could get him out of tough cracks, they just didn’t understand. He had to rely on himself. And now, he’s glad these kids can rely on him, too.