#I HAVE COMPLETED A LONG FIC FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 15 YEARS

[reiderwriter]

The One Thing You Can't Have

Pairing: Spencer Reid × Female Reader (DBF! Spencer × Hotchner! Reader)

Summary: After five years away, you move back to your hometown. Reconnecting with many of your father's friends and coworkers, you start to get suspicious when you lose multiple pairs of panties. Or; Spencer risks it all by stealing Hotch's adult daughter's underwear. And maybe her heart, too.

Warnings: Day 15 of Kinktober - panties, mentions canon character death, age difference (ten years), panties, underwear kink, underwear stealing, masturbation, sexual fantasies discussed, PinV Sex, clitoral stimulation, partial creampie, mentions of emergency contraception

A/N: It is done! I shit you not the writing time on this is longer than most of the fics I've ever written, it took me so long that I don't have any other fics prewritten for Kinktober now and have to spend the day hastily writing them... But it was worth it. As always, you can find all my work in my masterlist and all my kinktober fics here. My requests are open until the end of the month, so if there's a specific fic you want, don't hesitate to let me know!

With your family the way it was, you'd dealt with a lot over the years. Aaron Hotchner loved his wife and kids, but that hadn't been enough to protect you from George Foyet. When your mom and kid brother had gone into protective custody, you'd been away at college, and apart from a protective detail, they'd not seen fit to move you anywhere special at all. Foyet was so caught up on your mom that he'd forgotten you existed.

When you got the call from your dad that Foyet was resurfacing, you'd known in your gut that you had to go back. You'd ditched your handlers and driven through the night but when you arrived at the house you'd grown up in, all you could see was police lights and caution tape.

You'd run as fast as you could into the house, but a pair of strong arms grabbed you and lifted you away as you screamed and sobbed. Derek Morgan held you firm as he tried to calm you, but you barely registered his words.

"My mom is in there, my dad too, and Jack, let me fucking go, Derek." You'd only stopped raging when they'd bought out the first body bag. And then the second.

The anguish that filled your lungs stole your breath and you didn't know it was you screaming until your throat was red and completely sore. Another set of hands led you away and into an ambulance, skillfully anticipating your needs.

"Y/N, look at me. Look at my eyes, we're going to breathe together, okay?" Staring up into his dark eyes you suddenly remembered that you needed the air to breathe, his calm voice bringing you back to life.

He was wearing an FBI vest but you'd never seen him before. Not a surprise since you'd avoided everything to do with your father's job for the last five years. You only really knew Derek from when he'd been sent to deliver the news to you about Foyet's initial targeting of you.

The Man in front of you was young, but still older than you. He was tall, but he'd shrunk himself down into the space, leaning over you so that he was the only thing you could see. He looked tired, but he was the only thing for miles around keeping you grounded and you clung to him in desperation.

"My Name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I work with your dad. You're Y/N, right?" His voice was soft and even, like he was taming a temperamental animal. Even though you knew what he was doing, trying to calm you so he could deliver a devastating blow, you let him do it, drinking in each word as total calm swept over you. You nodded at him and waited for him to continue.

"Your brother is fine, he's at your aunt's house, he didn't touch him. Your dad is in the hospital and they think he's going to pull through, but he was stabbed a few times so he's going to be weak for a while." You searched his eyes for the words he wasn't saying as panic rose in your body.

"My mom, where is my mom? Haley Hotchner, she's… She should have been with Jack, where is she?" The look in his eyes was enough to tell you what in your heart you already knew. Your mom was in that bag and your family was broken, again.

You don't know what happened next, but you knew you were bundled up in Spencer Reid's arms and clinging to him for dear life. You knew he'd somehow got you to your aunt's house, and you knew he'd stayed until you were ready to let him go. Even years later you don't know how long he'd held you. Maybe only minutes, maybe hours. He had let you sit and grieve, finding small comfort in the contours of his body.

After that, college wasn't a priority for you. Your brother was only a baby, and he needed you around, so even the three-hour drive upstate seemed too far to be away from him. You stuck around, taking your courses as remotely as they'd let you for the semester and struggling for it.

Your dad felt guilty, of course. For your mom, for the derailing of your life, and for the way he had to keep leaving because that was the job. In all honesty, you didn't mind being home more at that time.

There was Jack, who was great, and your Aunt was so much like your mom that sometimes it was like she was still with you, even a little bit. And there was Spencer, too.

After it had become evident that you were going to fail the only required course you were taking that semester (algebra was your enemy), your dad had sought out the only person he knew with a good grasp of mathematics and no weekend plans and roped them into tutoring you. Which meant that your weekends were suddenly fully booked by him.

He seemed a little different from the first time you’d met him, but that was a given considering the circumstances. He held himself a little taller, and more relaxed as he talked about the kinds of equations you were supposed to use and formulas you were supposed to memorize. He was attentive but not too close, and he’d shown up with shorter hair and now that you could see more of his face, more of his neck, you found yourself getting distracted by the oddest things. The stubborn but small stubble on his neck, the way sweat trailed down his face, the movement of his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, the way the breeze from your open window tousled his hair.

It took you a distractingly long time to realize that you were physically attracted to him, but when you did realize, it was suddenly all you could think about. You spent most of your days working on math so you’d have some excuse to call or text him. The mornings before your lessons together you’d taken to hogging the bathroom long enough to shave, wash and dry your hair and apply a natural but still skilled amount of make-up. You were surprised that neither of the big bad profilers had caught onto the stench of your puppy love, because you were dripping with desperation.

He never budged of course, too oblivious or too noble to lay a hand on an eighteen-year-old. Or just smart enough to know not to lay a hand on his boss's daughter.

You certainly weren’t making it easy for him though.

“Spencer, what do you think of my outfit today? I’m going out with some friends from high school tonight for a meal, do I look okay?” You’d twirled for him innocently, knowing full well the speed of your spin would throw your already short skirt up past your panties for a split second.

“I don’t think I’m the best person to ask about clothes, Y/N. Maybe ask your dad.” His flush was evident enough that you knew it had worked but his hands were rigid by his sides and he carefully guided you back to the topic at hand.

It turned out that after a semester of tutoring, you’d become such a whizz at mathematics that you’d passed with flying colors. You’d been so excited to tell Spencer that you drove straight to Quantico, using the family pass your father had given you for emergencies to gain access. Spencer didn’t know what hit him when you launched yourself into his arms and wrapped your legs around him, but he’d somehow stayed upright as you buried your face once again in his neck.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Spencer! I got an A, the Professor was so shocked by my improvement that he asked me if I’d cheated. When I dropped your name, he freaked.” Spencer’s eyes were wide and blinking frantically as his hands struggled to find a place to hold you. You’d worn another scandalously low skirt and it seemed the only way to pry you off of him was to put a hand on or dangerously close to your ass.

You enjoyed watching his internal struggle, and so did quite the number of FBI agents, until your father spoiled the fun by walking out of his office to check the commotion.

“Y/N Hotchner, get down from there, now.” Your father rarely raised his voice at you, choosing a softer approach to parenting than many would expect. That meant that on the rare occasion that he did feel the need to speak up, you shut your mouth and listened. Detangling yourself from Spencer’s arms with an awkward smile, you tried your best to nonchalantly bounce over to your father and explain why you were there.

He motioned for you to follow him to his office, and you complied, letting one ear stay clear to focus on the sound of Reid being teased by all of his coworkers about the scene you’d just caused.

Your dad didn’t exactly scold you for the incident, so much as he tried to insinuate that you should head back home, and then head back to college, too. With months between you and the Foyet incident, he’d been hinting at letting you get back to your life for a while, but your stunt with Reid had him suddenly addressing it more overtly.

To say that your family dinner that night was a pain in the ass was an understatement.

“Y/N, Daddy said you went to his work today!” Jack had started the conversation, and you knew the tactical warfare was beginning.

“That’s right, buddy! I had to thank Spencer for helping me with my schoolwork.” You smiled at your brother before turning a suspicious glance toward your dad, who sat peacefully eating his dinner. The fact that you were even all eating together should’ve alerted you to something going on behind the scenes.

“Uncle Spencer is the best!” It wasn’t Jack’s fault he’d just given your father the best ammunition he could’ve asked for.

“Do you agree, Y/N? Do you think your Uncle Spencer is the best?” He was using his calm interrogation voice and you hated it.

“Dad, please, he’s not that much older than me, it’s weird for me to call him Uncle.”

“He’s ten years your senior, Y/N. You know that right?” You didn’t move as your eyes locked together with his, as he seemingly asked a more serious question in the subtext. You weren’t ready to answer it though, and so you buckled under the pressure, looking away first and eating the rest of your meal in silence.

Without saying much of a goodbye to any member of your father’s teammates, you decided that it was about time you continued with your life, not letting the actions of George Foyet hold you in a standstill any longer. You went back to college full-time, got your degree, and got a job in a city near your college town. You came back home regularly, but in the five years since your mother's death, you hadn’t talked to or heard from Spencer Reid.

Job opportunities were better in D.C. though, so after growing up and having some time away, you came right back to your childhood home, ready to start over. It was only temporary, of course, and you had a job lined up, but apartments were so hard to come by, especially ones that were actually livable, that you needed to do a lot of searching to find one that felt right.

So your dad’s home it was. With Jack a bit older and constantly away at school or clubs or friend’s houses, and your dad’s schedule the way it was, you’d practically got the house to yourself. And after living alone and with female roommates for half a decade, you’d almost grown too comfortable in your own skin. The summer between your move and the start of your new job was hot and sticky, and you found yourself taking more and more cold showers after your morning workouts.

Normally at 11 a.m., you had the house to yourself, and you’d happily stroll around in a small towel and dry yourself off. If your father or brother were home, you’d cover yourself up a bit more, sure, or just head to your room quicker, obviously.

So emerging from your shower, the last thing you expected was coming face to face with Doctor Spencer Reid sitting on your couch, the one that was directly on your path between the bathroom you’d just emerged from and the room you needed to be in. You cursed your father and his practically-sized apartment as you floundered your way through a greeting of the man you hadn’t seen in five years.

“Spencer, hi. What... What are you doing on my dad’s couch?” You clutched the towel close to your body, trying not to shiver as he trailed his eyes over your body, eyes just as big and wide as the last time you’d seen him.

“We were on our way to a local crime scene, he went to grab something from…” His voice trailed off as he pointed towards the master suite where you could now faintly hear the sound of your dad on the phone to someone.

“Right. Great. I should probably…” You gestured to the room and quickly started making your way toward it, trying not to visibly cringe at the most awkward post-shower interaction you’d ever had.

“What are you doing here?” His voice shot out quickly, and you whipped around so fast, that you almost panicked and dropped the towel completely.

“Oh, I… Did my dad not mention? I got a job at a company nearby, so I moved back. I’m staying here with Dad and Jack until I can find a decent apartment.”

“Oh, wow. Well, it’s nice to have you back. It’s been like five years since you left, right?” His tone was bright and he was nodding his head, but the words set fire to your nerve endings as you remembered that you’d practically run away from him. Even after half a decade, he was having a physical impact on you.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. You have a good memory.”

“You know, I get that a lot.” His grin ignited something in your chest, and you gathered the laundry you’d left on the sofa and quickly excused yourself before you could prove yourself more of a idiot than you could already make a case for.

Spencer watched you go, wondering just when Hotchner was going to emerge from his hiding place to attack him for so openly ogling his half-naked daughter. He stood on the spot staring at your door for a moment too long before dragging his eyes away. Unluckily for him, what he found on the floor had him panicking all over again.

“Y/N, your forgot…” He grabbed the lacy material in his fingers and went to open the door before stopping, realizing that you were probably completely bare behind that door now. The thought sent him into a tailspin, and he once again stood clueless for a beat too long with a pair of your freshly laundered panties in his hands.

He considered dropping them back on the floor, but he didn’t want them to get dirty again after you’d washed them so nicely. He should’ve just left them on the sofa for you to find later, but when Hotch’s voice grew louder and clearer behind him, fear took over and he shoved them into the closest hiding space he could find. His pocket.

“Callahan found something for us at the ME’s office, she’s meeting us at the precinct, let’s go.”

And just like that he was out the door, and he had officially signed his own death warrant.

You never noticed that the first pair went missing. When it became a pattern though, you did become suspicious. Three pairs of underwear in thirty days seemed a bit much, and unless your building's laundry machines were eating them, you had no clue where they could've been.

It's not that Spencer even meant to do it any of the times he did. But when he'd returned home that first day, overwhelmed with the caseload he'd been handed and found the offending item still right there in his coat pocket, the blood had rushed straight to his head.

He'd spent a half hour in agony staring at them, trying to smooth them out so they wouldn't get crumpled, his dick twitching at every slight movement he made. It had been quite a few months since he'd had sex, never really one for casual hook-ups. But if the result of several months of celibacy was stealing underwear then he thought maybe it would be best to have sex sooner rather than later.

He couldn't resist the temptation. Popping the button of his pants, he'd taken his cock in his hand and worked his way up and down his shaft imagining you dropping that towel. He imagined you wearing the panties and nothing else as you replaced his hand with your mouth, desperate to please. Taking the panties in his hand, he began directly masturbating into them, wishing so needily that you were still inside them.

When he shot his load, he soaked them through, and the shame that overcame him was intense and swift.

You never realized that he'd somewhat avoided you after that, doing his best to stay away for fear he'd let his perversions rule his actions. You had somehow made yourself unavoidable though.

The first time he saw you again it was at one of Rossi's family get-togethers. It had been years since you'd seen some of the members of the team, so you were really looking forward to it. Plus, Rossi had boasted of a recently installed pool and jacuzzi within his invitation, and you were excited to check them out with the fine summer weather actually staying fine.

You'd brought your bikini with you and changed in one of the ground-floor bathrooms, wrapping another towel around yourself before you finally made your way to the pool. But once again, wrapped in a towel, you'd come face to face with Spencer Reid.

"Y/N, I didn't know you were coming." He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and this time worked especially hard to not let his gaze travel all over your skin. He regretted his entire existence as he realized he'd have to hide his micro-expressions around countless profilers, some of whom were present and accounted for when you'd last been seen together.

Derek was going to give him hell.

"Yeah, Uncle David invited me! I'm so excited for the jacuzzi, I haven't been in one since college."

"You call Rossi 'Uncle David?'" The thought had tickled him, humor sparkling in his eyes as he finally smiled at you.

"Why yes I do, and if you're not careful, my dad is going to make me start calling you Uncle Spencer again." You skipped off merrily after that, leaving your spare clothes and your discarded ones in the bathroom Reid had obviously been waiting for.

His smile soured as he realized the impact of your words. Uncle Spencer. Huh. Some fucking "Uncle" he was. He washed his hands thoroughly, having spilled some kind of drink down himself before greeting you, as his eyes fell to the pile of clothes you'd left neatly in the corner.

He tried to tell himself he couldn't do it again, but curiosity and arousal lit up his entire body and carried him forward. Jeans, a t-shirt, socks, and shoes were left tidily discarded, but he couldn't obviously see any underwear. There was a second pile of neat clothes and he looked at that one thoroughly as well, but after a minute it was evident that you'd hidden your unmentionables from clear sight.

He heard the happy cheers and smiles from outside, and painstakingly attempted to pull away, but he couldn't. Rooting through your things, he found them. He found two of them, really. The used underwear you'd likely just taken off, and the fresh pair you were going to change into. Spoiled for choice he sat in a stasis, mentally cursing himself for being so stupidly horny.

It would be wrong to take another pair. And certainly wrong of him to take the clean pair which you'd instantly noticed were missing when you tried to put them on to wear them.

The used pair though. He held them delicately in both hands, the slip of material not as fancy as the ones he'd used before, but somehow more enticing.

Letting his cock rule his thoughts he brought them up to his face and inhaled deeply, and it was like a bomb going off in the back of his head. He had to have them.

Organizing the bathroom into the exact layout as he'd found it, making sure not even a hair was out of place. The panties were safely in his pocket, and he took a minute to get his body physically and mentally under control before exiting the bathroom and rejoining his friends.

The next time he'd taken some, they'd really been handed to him like a gift. One month back at home, and you felt slightly stifled by the overbearing presence of your father. You needed a nice, messy night out, and you sure got it.

The friends you'd reconnected with had taken you out to a slew of clubs, and by the end of the night, you were tripping and stumbling into anything and anyone in your path. It was as if you were magnetically drawn to every object in your way, unfortunately, one just happened to be tall and lean and caught you before you could tumble off again.

"Y/N?" He looked down at you, confused as he took in your intoxicated state.

"Uncle Spencie!" You relaunched yourself into his arms, reminiscent of that day in the bullpen. "Uncle Spencie I can't believe you're here!" You giggled into his neck as you buried yourself there, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck as you pulled away to grin at him again.

"Y/N, how drunk are you?"

"How you are drunk, huh? Why don't we ever ask that question?" You sent yourself into a fit of giggles as your friends watched the scene play out behind you.

"Girls, this is Doctor Spencer Reid. My daddy is his boss. Isn't he cute?" Your arms still wrapped territorially around Spencer, you introduced your friends who cackled approvingly at your drunk shenanigans.

"Y/N, you need to let me go, the others…"

"Others? Is daddy here? AARON!! AAAAROOOOOO-" He clamped a hand over your mouth and moved you to the side of the road to hail a taxi as fast as possible. Apologizing to your friends, he quickly stuffed you into the cab and gave the driver your address.

"Uncle Spencer, I just wanted to see my daddy and his other friends. Why are you being so mean?" The exaggerated pout on your face had him dragging a hand down over his face as he struggled to pull a seatbelt over you.

"If your dad had seen you wrapped around me like that, he'd have killed one of us."

"Both of us," you nodded and giggled. Your short dress was riding up your thighs, the leather seats of the car feeling unbearably hot and sticky under your skin. You shifted uncomfortably a few times, your underwear eating into your skin in an uncomfortable manner.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" He sternly whispered the words into your ears as he grabbed your wrists. It was too late though, you'd already worked your underwear down your thighs enough that they'd reached your knees and then fallen around your ankles.

"It felt bad, I didn't like it." You leaned your head back and let your legs hang open slightly, just enough that Spencer could see the taxi driver angling for a look.

He snapped a hand between your legs, closing off the view before snatching up the underwear from the floor and pocketing it. You didn't know nor care though, the motion of the car rocking you off into a deep sleep. He'd ended up having to carry you up to your apartment, getting you ready for bed, and leaving just fast enough for Hotch to not catch him hanging over his unconscious daughter.

And he had a third pair of your underwear.

He spent his days wondering just what the fuck was wrong with him, and his nights jerking off to your scent, wondering just how willing he'd be to climb into bed with you and if he'd have the strength to say no.

He was normal enough in your interactions with one another. You'd seen each other at various case celebrations, at parties hosted by the team members, which that summer were high in total. You couldn't resist the temptation to flirt with him, but it was only when the two of you were well out of earshot of anyone who might frown upon it. You didn't think he even noticed that's what you were doing anyway.

Spencer did notice. And he kept noticing and was disgusted by how much he wanted you. You were Hotch’s daughter. He’d seen pictures of you as a child, he’d held you while you cried over your mom and the stress of having to be a responsible adult after everything happened with Foyet, he’d known how much you hated having to grow up quickly when you had Hotch for a dad, and he felt gross that despite all of that he wanted to fuck you so badly that he’d resorted to petty thievery and letting you flirt with him under your father's nose.

It was towards the end of your summer at home when you finally noticed the missing pieces. You'd even almost mentioned it to your dad before thinking it through a bit more. If it wasn't some laundry mix-up, he was going to go full FBI on every man who came close to you, and that was a risk you weren't willing to take.

In the end, you were thankful you said nothing.

The BAU team had been out on a case for ten days, the largest amount of time they'd been away since you'd moved home, and you'd decided to greet them as soon as they returned, congratulate them on a job well done.

You knew they were already heading to their regular bar after they finished their paperwork, but you had some morale to boost in the meantime, so a donut delivery plus enough coffee to stay awake for hours was in order.

They'd practically thrown themselves off the jet and into the box of donuts, each of them thanking you for the happy greeting after what had to have been a hard time away.

"Y/N, you didn't have to do this, but thank you. The team really appreciates it." Your dad had looked at you with a proud look before showing you up to his office, letting you wait on his couch until everyone was finished.

You got bored quickly and asked if you could help with anything, which is how you became your dad's errand-runner. He sent you to the printer to pick up papers, you'd run to get him more coffee from the pot twice and he sent you to ask the others about their progress. Which was totally fine had they not looked like paperwork-writing zombies on the verge of collapse.

"Y/N, head down to Spencer's desk, he should have a file on the geographical profile I need." He hadn't even glanced up to ask you that, but he did shout a thank you out the door, so you suppose he could be forgiven for now.

Bouncing down the stairs you noticed Spencer was deep in the middle of reading some files, doing that speed reading thing you'd heard him talk about but never witnessed.

"Spencer." He didn't look up, too focused on the words in front of him. "Spencer, my dad needs a file."

"Go-bag. Reading, give me a minute." He still hadn't even glanced at you so you pulled yourself around his desk to search for his go-bag yourself. It was on the floor, and you pulled it towards you, settling down on the floor to open it up and look for the files you needed.

You probably should have had more reservations about rooting through Spencer's things because just as you pulled the zip fully open, it seemed like his eyes shot wide and he threw his head in your direction, finally distracted from his work.

"Wait, don't look in-" He whisper-screamed the words at you frantically, but it was too late. The first thing your hand had closed around in the bag was small and delicate and somewhat rumpled, and your hand had a mind of its own pulling it out into your lap so the two of you could see it.

Your panties. One of your missing pairs of panties was in Spencer Reid's go-bag.

Both of you sat there for a few moments, neither of you moving, the eye contact not breaking one second as you both stared at each other in fear and surprise.

He cleared his throat quietly and whispered down at you, "I can explain…" but he didn't get a chance as you swiftly grabbed the file you'd come for - helpfully pulled into plain view by your rustling about - hid your panties back in your own pocket, zipped his bag up and swiftly ran all the way back to your dad's office.

You sat on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, no longer eager to do chores. Spencer had your underwear. He'd stolen it. He'd taken it across the country with him. He'd…You didn't know what he was doing with it, really, but you knew that every image of him with them had the most dirty, exciting, disgusting thoughts running through your head.

You grabbed your things and quickly headed out after that. Penelope caught you by the elevator as you made to leave.

"No, sweetie, where are you going? I thought you were coming to celebrate with us after this, I was so looking forward to having the fun Hotchner around, not the grumpy, serious one."

"I'm just going home to freshen up. I smell like coffee and Quantico, which when you're not nose blind to it isn't the most optimal scent." You promised her you'd see her there, and with a quick glance back at the office, where Spencer was sat tense, looking like he wanted to either run after you or shout something across the room, you left.

By the time you'd arrived home, there were ten missed calls on your cell, and you didn't have to even speculate about who they might be from because there were texts too.

Spencer: I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, call me when you get this.

Spencer: I know it's weird and I'll understand if you hate me, but please talk to me.

Spencer: Please don't tell your dad.

You'd scoffed at that last one as if you'd ever have been that stupid. But you didn't reply or call him, letting him suffer in silence.

This entire time, you'd been operating on the basis that Spencer Reid didn't see you the way you saw him. That he didn't think of you as an adult but as your father's daughter. And now you were confronted with the truth that he was just as fucking lustful and horny as you'd been since you met him at 18? You weren't letting this opportunity pass you by.

Taking the panties out, you stared at them again, trying to figure out just what he'd been doing with them. You recognized them as the pair you'd lost on your night out, bright red and lacy, eye-catching, and definitely yours. He hadn't even tried to lie to you about that, but how willing would you have been to accept the fact that Spencer had stolen someone else's panties? Or been gifted them? Probably not very.

You'd assumed you'd left this pair in the taxi, not entirely sure how you'd ended up in the car in the first place or why you would decide they were uncomfortable right there. Now you had sudden recollections of Spencer also being there, and suddenly your actions made sense.

He'd not only taken your panties, he'd taken your used panties, and it looked as though he'd used them even more. You decided not to think too closely about how he had used them.

But he'd also got you home safe, making sure your things were stored neatly and tucked you into bed nice and tight. And then he'd stolen your panties.

Thinking about it was frustrating but there was nothing else in your mind at that moment. Spencer taking them out secretly to look at. Spencer smelling them. Spencer wrapping them around his big cock and stroking himself to the thought of you.

You wanted to know precisely what he'd done, and you intended to find out.

Penelope called you as soon as they'd left work, and sent you the location, too, and you decided it was time to get ready to mess with Spencer.

The dress you'd worn on the night he'd stolen your panties was freshly laundered. Usually, you wouldn't wear anything so risky in front of your father, but he'd likely only be there for an hour or two before leaving you be. You pulled out a fresh pair of red panties as well, hoping to jog Spencer's memory a little bit to entice him to talk.

With a quick make-up retouch, you climbed into your car, and within twenty minutes you were walking into O'Keefe's.

Miserably, Spencer couldn't come up with an excuse to stay home quick enough and was tumbled into the car by Derek and Penelope. He had a feeling, too, that he wouldn't be able to leave early, either, which was only confirmed when you walked in wearing that dress.

His hopes to sit and nurse his non-alcoholic cocktail peacefully at the edge of the booth are shattered as he watches you saunter over. It clings tight to your skin, twisting around every peak on your body, revealing every part that he'd spent the last few weeks dreaming about.

He was screwed.

"Hi, Dad! Hi everyone!" You smiled innocently enough, but your sickly sweet smile turned on Spencer was an omen, and he suddenly wanted to be down on his knees begging for forgiveness. Or something else.

Instead of sticking by your dad's side, you make your way to Spencer and force him to shuffle further into the booth so you can sit next to him. It's cramped and you're on the edge still, so you let your hand rest on his thigh for a beat too long as you join the conversation.

"What did I miss?"

"Just talking about the craziest things that have happened to us on cases."

"Reid was propositioned by a prostitute once," Derek chuckled.

"Please, Reid has been propositioned by multiple prostitutes, multiple times." Penelope and Derek continued to joke and giggle about the younger man's apparent cluelessness to flirting.

"I guess they just assumed you were a pervert, Spence. I wonder why they'd think that?" His eyes shot wide as you snuck your hand into his pocket under the table, watching to see if anyone else had noticed the bold actions.

But you looked away from him quickly and didn't let your hand spend too long there, sliding it out slowly, feeling up his leg as you went. He took another sip of his drink before shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His cock had been rudely awoken, and he didn't want it to stay awake, so he attempted to let it fall into a less obvious position.

But as he shifted he felt something else in his pants, and curiously he put his own hand into his pocket. You'd returned your stolen underwear to the thief.

He took in a shaky breath and held them inside his pants while he willed himself to calm down. Partly because you were in public and partly because your dad was present. He almost had himself under control when you decided it was time for your next move.

"I need to go get a drink, I'll be back soon." You stood and pushed away from the table, bouncing away swiftly. He watched you go from the corner of his eye and then had to do a double take as you pushed yourself up against the bar ordering your drink.

You stuck your ass out, not enough to make it look intentional to anybody but him, but just enough so he could see the red underwear you had on underneath your dress.

He downed his drink and made his excuses before making his way right to the bar where you stood.

"What are you doing?" He demanded, so close behind you that you felt his breath in you before you heard his voice.

"Buying a drink, what does it look like I'm doing?" You scooted your ass back until it was pressed up against his crotch and he groaned, hard and loud in your ear.

"Y/N, you can't do that, your dad is right fucking there."

"I sure hope my dad isn't fucking over there, that'd really be a sight I didn't want to see." He shut his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before he put his hands on you. Grabbing your hips, he walked you closer to the bar so that your ass was no longer on display, nor touching him in any way, then he moved to your side and left only one hand firmly touching your back so you knew not to immediately try something else again.

"This is your last warning. Now, you're going to order that drink and then you're going to walk back to that table like a good fucking girl, or so help me god, I will show your dad just how much of a slut you're being." His voice was a dark growl and you felt your panties growing more wet with each syllable, nodding instantly as the bartender came over.

For a minute, he'd genuinely thought that had worked. You'd ordered your drink without another word and then turned back to the table and walked nicely, having pulled your skirt back down a little bit. He'd thought he'd won until the second he'd sat down when Aaron Hotchner had grabbed his coat and stood up.

"Spencer, you're not drinking? Can you drive Y/N home tonight? I’m leaving now, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to leave so early.” You watched as his jaw twitched, taking only a second to compose himself before he agreed.

“Great, have a fun night sweetheart,” he said, kissing your head, before turning out and leaving with Rossi.

“Now, Spencer, what was that you were saying about good behavior at the bar? It was really so very interesting to me and I’d love to hear more.”

You spent the next half hour draining your drink and his self-control, stroking a hand down his chest as the others comfortably ignored your purring at him. He answered all your questions coldly, but every time your hand trailed a little bit too low he stopped it with a heavy hand and a warning look, letting you know that you were still getting to him.

Once you’d finished the first drink, you got up and moved to the bar once again, making sure that his eyes were on you completely as you swayed your hips on the way over. You pulled exactly the same move as you had earlier and made sure he knew you were going to be hard to handle the entire night.

When you returned, he was the only one left at the table, the others having scattered to the dance floor, the bathroom, and the bar. Taking the chance you climb directly into his lap.

“What’s wrong, Spence, you’re looking so lonely over here?” You rest your hands on his shoulders and let your ass fall to his lap, grinding down gently to feel him underneath you.

“How could I be lonely when you’re out here throwing yourself at me like a cheap whore?”

“Oh, we’ve already established how much cheap whores love you today, Spencer. Why would you be so surprised that I’m having the same reaction?”

The others slowly started returning so you pushed away from him for a second, straightening your clothes before they noticed anything amiss.

“Y/N, I need some youthful arm candy, come to the dancefloor with us!” Penelope pulled you from your seat and you laughed as you followed her, sending a wink back over your shoulder to Spencer.

He sat grinding his teeth as you continue your games on the dancefloor, swaying your hips suggestively, not sparing him a single glance as you practically exposed yourself on a dancefloor. He decided he’d let you have your fun and then march you out quickly. He moved his timeline up exponentially the minute he saw a man saunter up behind you, whispering in your ear before walking you over to the bar.

Downing his drink, he made his way to your side, pulling you away from the man quickly.

“We’re leaving now.” He said, leaning down to your ear as he grabbed your coat and pulled it around you.

“Man, what do you think you’re doing?” The man who had pulled you away was visually drunk, looking rough and dangerous as he leered down at you.

“She’s not interested and she’s too young for you anyway.” He said, very close to flashing his badge to get him to back off.

“What, you her dad or something?” He scoffed, but you turned on him with a wide smile as you leaned your head back against Spencer’s chest.

“He’s my daddy, actually.” With a wink, you left the bar, letting Spencer chase after you as you walked directly over to your car. Throwing him the keys, you jumped into the passenger seat.

“I’m taking you home now, you’re being reckless, you’ve had too much to drink.”

“Reckless how? It’s not like I’m the one who has been stealing my boss' daughter's panties for the last month.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You jacked off into my panties and now you’re pissed I caught you…wow.”

“Can you just shut up? I’m sure your dad wouldn’t like me to tell him how you put them back in my pocket tonight, right?”

“Was that a threat, Spencer?”

“If I was going to threaten you, Y/N, you’d know.”

“You’ve changed, you know. Since I was a teenager. You’re different now.”

“No, I’m not. I’m very much the same.”

“You’re hotter now. I don’t know how that is possible because fuck did I want you back then, but now…” You let your eyes trail down his face as he continues to drive, jaw tense. His side profile had always been pretty, but with the bags under his eyes now more pronounced, you thought about what it’d be like to trail your mouth down his neck, what you would give to sit prettily on those lips of his.

Your tongue darts out to wet your own lips, as the fantasies grow to fill the car. Suddenly it’s his hands between your legs, making you moan like the whore he’d accused you of being earlier, it’s his tongue down your throat as he fucks his fingers into you, completely ruining you.

When you pull over, you’re certain that he’d heard your thoughts, because you didn’t recognize where you were at all.

“Spencer, this isn’t my dad’s house.”

“No, it’s mine. Get out of the car.” Suddenly obedient, you do exactly as he tells you, jumping out of the car as swiftly as you can and letting him march you up the stairs, right through his door and all the way to his bedroom. He pushes you forward gently but with a firm enough hand that you know he wants you on the bed. He doesn’t touch you any further as you prop yourself up on your elbows, but moves to another part of the room, grabbing something from a drawer before throwing it at you. Throwing them at you, you supposed, because when you looked down, you found your other pairs of missing underwear on your lap.

“I’m sorry for being so fucking dirty and disgusting, but you need to stop saying those things to me before I do something we both regret.”

You don’t reply, sitting and breathing heavily for a second before pushing your body further up the bed and reaching down. His eyes drink you in as he watches you hook two fingers underneath the underwear you’re wearing and drag them down your legs, not caring that he can see everything. You let go of them as soon as they’re hanging off your leg, holding them out to him.

“Peace offering?”

He’s on you in an instant, crawling on top of you so he can shut you up with his mouth, his hands, his whole being. You welcome him greedily, letting him take control as he pins your hips down underneath his.

“Little slut, you want me to fuck you so bad?” He says, a hand at your chest, pinching your nipple hard through your dress as you moan and writh underneath him. “Throwing yourself at your father’s friend like this, huh? Must be a little whore.”

He doesn’t let you respond, shoving two fingers into your mouth as you obediently wrap your lips around them and start sucking. Pushing your dress up, he groans at how wet you already are for him, swiping a finger over your clit carefully as you moan around his fingers, the vibrations shooting straight to his cock.

Lifting his hips, he unzips his pants in a second, not stopping to contemplate the consequences of his actions. His cock is pressed against you, gripped in his hand, but it’s hot and it’s heavy and fuck do you need it inside of you. He teases you with it as you whine around his fingers, trying to top from the bottom and grinding your hips up into him. He removes his fingers from your mouth reluctantly so he can hold your hips down.

“Spencer, don’t fucking tease me. Please just fuck me now.”

“Are all of you Hotchner’s this fucking bossy?” You roll your eyes, ignoring his question as you move to grab ahold of his cock, lining it up with your cunt and pushing it in slowly. A hand over yours stops you before it can get any deeper.

“Wait, I haven’t put a condom on yet.”

“Then you better make sure you pull out before I have to tell my dad exactly who it is that made him a grandaddy.” His hips snap up into yours then and with a few shallow pumps he’s fully sheathed inside of you as you scream at the feeling. You’d spent years thinking about this moment, but you’d never imagined he’d fill you so perfectly, stretching you out in all the best places.

His fingers return to your clit, working you up into a frenzy as you arch up into him, wrapping your legs around him to allow him better access. He growls into your ear with each thrust, before grabbing fistfuls of your ass and dragging you to the edge of the bed.

He pulls out quickly, repositioning you and holding your legs open wide as he stands between your legs, lining his cock up and pushing into you once again, immediately regaining his pace. He lifts one knee onto the bed, again pushing your legs down into the bed and opening you up further to him. The new angle hits deeper inside of you than you were sure anyone had ever been, momentarily leaving you breathless and soundless, listening only to the noises coming from your cunt.

Wet slaps of skin against skin, the arousal trickling down your leg to stain his sheets.

You regain your breath just as he knocks it out of you again, pushing you over the edge as you cum, hard, on his cock. Your head goes dizzy as you struggle to come down from the bliss he’d pulled you up into, legs twitching as he continues pounding into him.

You’re vaguely aware of some loud moans and screams, and it takes you an entire minute to realize the sinful noises are coming straight from your mouth.

“Fuck, Spencer, so fucking good for me, you made me feel so good, thank you.” His hips stutter inside you then, and you feel a heat flood you.

“Shit,” he pulls out quickly and sprays the rest of his load over your pretty black dress, falling down on top of you and reclaiming your lips passionately. You stay locked together in that embrace for god knows how long, rolling around back and forth in his bed until he finally detaches himself, pulling your clothes off and throwing a large old t-shirt over your head before grabbing you like an oversized stuffed toy and leading you into the depths of oblivion.

When you wake up in the morning, the pounding in your head is exaggerated considering you hadn’t really drank that much the night before. It takes you a shocking amount of time to realize that the pounding wasn’t in your head though, but instead a loud banging against Spencer’s door, ordering him to open up

You’re so comfortable though, you try to ignore it. Until your father’s voice is pouring through the paper-thin walls.

“Spencer, open the door, right now, or I’m kicking it down. You have five seconds.” The Spencer in question shoots out of bed immediately from beside you, scrambling to pull on pants and make his hair look like you hadn’t been tangled in it all night before running to the door.

You similarly panic around the room for a second, searching for a hiding place and grabbing your phone before settling on the absolutely genius position of under the bed.

You hear the confrontation like it’s happening right over you.

“Aaron, I really think you’re going to regret this.” David Rossi’s voice is calm, trying to talk some sense into your father, but he isn’t having any of it.

“Where is she? I told you to drop her off at home when she was finished drinking, but she wasn’t there when I woke up.”

“I can explain…” Spencer trailed off, and you cursed the man for being such a bad liar. That line hadn’t worked on you, either, so you doubted it’d work on your dad. Opening your phone, you check the time. 11:47. You quietly cursed yourself as you opened the multiple messages from your father.

You decide to help Spencer out by replying to one of them now.

“Hey, Dad. I ran into an old friend last night, and Spencer made sure we both got back to her’s safely. I’m still at her apartment, but I guess I forgot to text last night because I was so tired, sorry for worrying you!”

You heard his phone ping with the message, heard the tense silence as he read the message slowly, and heard the incredibly loud ping of your own phone, screaming from inside Spencer’s room as he replied.

Unfortunately, your dad hears it, too.

Pushing past Spencer, who in his defense is doing a great job of taking a stand by slowing down your father momentarily, Aaron Hotchner bursts into the room just as you poke your head up from the side of the bed.

“Morning, Daddy.” You try, hoping to sweet talk your way out of this whole situation.

“Living room, now.” He says, hesitating for only a moment. “You’re dressed, right?” You almost laugh at his pathetic tone before considering the situation, just nodding and walking out behind him as you try to make Spencer’s shirt cover more of your body than it originally did.

There’s a gleam in Rossi’s eye as you walk past him, head hung in embarrassment. You sit guiltily on the couch, and Spencer finds his way next to you, and you suddenly feel like two children about to get the scolding of a lifetime.

“What were you thinking?” He demands, and you grow suddenly angry at the indignant tone of his voice.

“Dad, I am 23 years old, I do not need a lecture for spending the night out.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, sit down. Spencer? Anything to say.” You slump back into your seat and wait for the answer just the same as your dad is, but it doesn’t come.

Instead, you feel a blanket being thrown over your legs, and it isn’t until then that you notice how cold you’ve been. He takes the time to wrap the material around your body, making sure you’re comfortable before he even thinks about looking up at your dad.

“Hotch, what is it that you want to know?” He levels his stare with your father, and it seems to dampen his anger a little bit. They’re having a silent war right now, in some kind of expressive language that you’ve never been able to decode, and somehow, it seems that Spencer is winning.

“Did you use protection?” Your sharp intake of breath is about all the answers your father needs, and you realize how majorly you’d fucked up by letting the conversation get this far.

“Dad!” you shout indignantly. “That is frankly none of your business.” He doesn’t look at you though, not even sparing you a glance as his eyes stay focused on Spencer, trying to figure out something you’re not even sure of yourself.

“For god’s sake, Dad, I’ve been in love with him for five years.” All the eyes in the room snap to you then, and if you hadn’t been feeling shy before, you certainly were now.

“Y/N, you’re barely an adult.”

“I’m sorry that’s entirely rich coming from the guy who had a child straight out of high school. I’m an adult, which is why I’m allowed to make my own mistakes and decisions, and I’d really prefer your support instead of your judgment.” Your father tries to speak again, to protest some part of what you just said, but unlistening, you groan in frustration and just climb directly into Spencer’s lap.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Spencer panics below you for a second, before resting comfortably on your legs, far enough down that he is spared your father’s dirty looks.

“Aaron, I think you’d better hear the girl out. She reminds me a lot of someone I know, so hard-headed these youths of today are.” You are intensely thankful for Rossi’s presence then and you send a thankful smile his way, just as your dad grumbles.

“Uncle David is right, you should listen to Uncle David.”

“Until a few days ago, you were calling Spencer “Uncle Spencer” so I’d be quiet if I were you, Y/N.”

“Heard.” He pauses for a second to think, the years finally etching into his skin as he breathes out a sigh of relief. You suddenly feel bad for not being home when he woke up, and you can only imagine how it must’ve felt to not know where you were, or if you were safe after everything that he’d already been through.

“I’m not against this, I suppose. But I swear to god if you ever go missing on me again, I will have an entire agency out for you.”

“You know where I’ll be, Dad.” He nods then turns to Spencer.

“You’re going to take her to a pharmacy in the next three hours to get emergency contraception, and then the both of you are going to come - fully clothed - to my house. It’s been a while since we had a family dinner.” You smile brightly up at him, and within another minute, it is just you and Spencer in the apartment alone.

You looked back up at him shyly and tried to awkwardly climb out of his lap, but he pulled you right back into him.

“For the record, I think I’ve only been in love with you for 37 days. Is that okay with you?” All of the confidence drains from your body as you struggle to find the words.

“In my defense, it’s not that I didn’t love you back then, it’s just that you were so young, I think I never considered it. And when I realized that you had those feelings, I felt so guilty about it, I never stopped to let myself think about what else I was feeling. And then you were gone and I didn’t have to think about it again, and then you came back, and I’ve been doing a lot more thinking now, and I think that-”

“I think that you should shut up and kiss me, Spencer Reid.” You said.

“Heard.” You giggled as he pressed his lips up into your own, pulling you further down into him as he held you tight. You didn’t come up for air for a long while, drinking as much of him in as you could as he gave you his heart.

“You know what this means?” You said, finally pulling away with a gasp.

“What?”

“You don’t have to steal my panties anymore. I can just give them to you now.” He lit up red underneath you and groaned as you laughed at his pained expression.

“As long as you never mention that to your father, I think we’ll escape this job and lives intact.” He said, a faraway look telling you he was likely running probability on those ideas right at that second.

“Just remember, my dad has two weapons and the ability to move you halfway across the country should he choose to.” You pressed your forehead against his, chuckling once again at his pained expression. “But also remember, that I’d happily follow you anywhere, Reid.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Hotchner. Oh, no, that was weird. We’re going to have to get you a new name sooner rather than later.” You gasped as he lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you back to the bedroom.

“Spencer! What are you doing?”

“We need to go brainstorm some new names, too weird to call you Hotchner. And I do all of my best thinking in bed.”

“Really? I do mine in the shower,” you teased, holding tight to his shoulders as he continued forward.

“We can definitely try that next.” He said, carrying you through the door, and closing it shut behind him, hoarding your attentions for the rest of the morning.

[idyllic-ghost]

Title: Do Stars Collapse Into Black Holes, Or Fall Into Something Unknown? Pairing: TA!Seokmin x TA!gn!reader Genre: uni au, rivals to friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn romance Wordcount: 7.7k Rating: PG 15

Synopsis: Starting your second year of your master’s degree in astrophysics, and your first year as a TA, you were stressed enough - but the universe knows no bounds for your suffering. Seokmin, your handsome and annoyingly smart classmate, just had to become your colleague. As if you weren’t hard on yourself already, Seokmin’s presence only proved to fuel your self-loathing. But does he hate you too, or do you need to open your eyes and come back down to Earth?

Warnings: angst, mentions of stress, academic pressure, self-conciousness

A/N: this is a collab by @gyuswhore and @highvern! thank you to @gyuswhore for helping me with planning for and reading through this fic! see the Back to School masterlist here!

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

Join my taglist // Masterlists

Seokmin stood outside his supervisor’s slightly open door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The questions he had written down in his notebook were now floating around in his mind, lingering at the tip of his tongue. The golden light of the August sun filtered through the tall windows, casting long, cool shadows on the polished linoleum floor. He had come here to discuss a few pressing issues with his thesis, but as he approached, he heard a familiar voice from within the office.

Your voice.

Seokmin knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, but curiosity got the better of him. He inched closer, careful not to let his presence be known. The door was left slightly ajar, and Seokmin decided to peek through it. Through the narrow gap, he saw you sitting opposite the professor, your posture tense, hands fidgeting with the edge of your notebook. It was how he saw you most of the time, other than the few times he would see you in the library - then, your shoulders were always relaxed, your nose was in a book so big that Seokmin seriously worried for the librarian’s back, and your eyes made it seem like you were in a different dimension, completely focused.

“What do you think about becoming my TA for the undergraduate class this semester?” the professor asked, his tone encouraging yet firm.

You hesitated, your eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. “I’m not sure, Professor. I mean, I have my thesis to focus on, and I’m not sure if I can handle the extra responsibility.”

The professor leaned back in his chair, a patient smile on his face. “I understand your concerns, but I believe this experience could be invaluable for your academic and professional growth. Plus, you’ve always been one of my top students. I have faith in your abilities, you should too.”

After a moment of silence, you nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

Seokmin's mind raced. This was an unexpected development. He had always admired you from afar—you're beautiful, absolutely, but more importantly he admired your dedication and your passion for astrophysics—but he never had a reason to interact closely with you. Until now.

An idea sparked in his mind. If you were going to be a TA, maybe he could be one too. It would give him the perfect opportunity to be near you, to finally break the ice.

Just as you started gathering your things to leave, Seokmin quickly moved back, pressing himself against the wall to avoid being seen. You walked out of the office, your face a mixture of apprehension and determination. You don’t see him.

Seokmin took a deep breath, steeling himself. Any thoughts of his thesis vanished as he stepped forward and knocked lightly on the open door.

“Come in,” the professor called out.

Seokmin entered the room, his heart pounding in his chest. “Professor, do you have a moment?”

The professor looked up, a hint of surprise crossing his features. “Of course, Seokmin. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if there are any open TA positions for this semester,” Seokmin said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “I think it could be a great learning experience for me, especially if I decide to continue on my academic career after graduation.”

The professor's eyebrows rose in mild surprise, but he quickly nodded. “As a matter of fact, there is an opening… and I appreciate your initiative. I’ll put you with one of my other students for the undergrad course in astrophysics. The other TA was worried about it, I’m sure they’ll appreciate your help.”

Seokmin couldn't help but smile. This was his chance—not only to assist in the course but to get to know you better. As he left the office, he felt a sense of excitement bubbling within him. The semester was about to get a lot more interesting.

You step into the classroom on your first day as a TA, and a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through you. The room is bright and spacious, with large windows letting in the morning light. The faint smell of chalk and old books fills the air. A smile appears on your face as you take it all in. Although you were nervous, this was your dream– or at least one step on the way to it. You set down your bag and begin organizing the materials for the lecture, trying to focus on the tasks at hand to calm your racing thoughts.

As you arrange the papers on the desk, you hear the door creak open behind you. Turning around, you're surprised to see Seokmin walk in, a confident smile on his face. He looks perfectly put together with his glasses on the tip of his nose, his button-down neatly tucked into his trousers, and his hair adorably messy. His presence catches you off guard, and you feel a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach. You had seen him around before, always talking with someone in a way that you could never execute. People often told you, when you confided in them about your awkwardness, that people who were good at academics often had a harder time socially. Therefore, Seokmin stood out to you as an enigma - a goal that you could never meet. An irritating paradox of a human.

“Hey,” he says casually, setting his own bag down and pushing his black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, I—uh, the professor asked me to be his TA,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “What about you?”

“Same here,” Seokmin says, his smile widening. “Looks like we’ll be working together.”

You force a smile in return, but inside, a sense of dread begins to build. Working with Seokmin is not what you had anticipated - and not what you needed.

As the students start to file into the classroom, you watch Seokmin with growing unease. He moves through the room with an easy grace, greeting the students warmly and making small talk with them. His confidence is palpable, and it sets you on edge.

In contrast, you feel more reserved, and your interactions with the students are much more subdued. You can’t help but compare yourself to Seokmin, feeling a pang of jealousy at how effortlessly he seems to connect with everyone.

When the professor arrives, he announces to the students what the course material is and the TAs tasks are for the semester. Seokmin is given the more engaging responsibilities: leading study groups, assisting with experiments, and even giving a few lectures. You, on the other hand, are assigned the more mundane tasks like grading papers and organizing materials.

As the professor continues to outline the responsibilities, you wonder why your professor ever even asked you to become a TA. Seokmin catches your eye and gives you a friendly nod, but you can't bring yourself to return the gesture. He’s been handed all the opportunities you had hoped for. While you aren’t much for small talk, you know that you could hold a lecture–talking about the subject you love most in life in front of eager listeners is all that you want.

The classroom buzzes with anticipation as Professor Jeon prepares for the next segment of the lecture. Today, he’s promised a demonstration, and everyone is eager to see what it would be. The whiteboard is filled with complex diagrams and equations, and the projector displays an intricate star map.

“Alright, everyone, I need a volunteer,” Professor Jeon announces, scanning the room. His eyes twinkle with enthusiasm behind his glasses. Most of the students are sitting still in their chair, their eyes revealing worry—as if the slightest movement would make the professor turn and pick them out of the rest.

Desperate to prove yourself, you step forward without having heard much of what the professor had said. “I can help with that, Professor,” you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

Professor Jeon smiles warmly. “Excellent. You’ll be representing a star in our demonstration.”

You take your place at the front, slightly confused over what he was doing. The room feels larger and the students’ eyes heavier as they focus on you. Seokmin watches with interest, leaning back in his chair with a curious grin.

“Now,” Professor Jeon continues, positioning you in the center of the room, “imagine that our TA here is a star in a distant galaxy.”

Seokmin can’t resist. “Look at you, shining bright like a star!” he calls out, his voice filled with mock admiration. The class erupts into chuckles, the tension easing slightly.

You shake it off and try to stay focused on the demonstration. Professor Jeon continues, explaining how stars form, their life cycles, and how they interact with other celestial bodies, using you as the centerpiece of his explanations. He moves around you, gesturing animatedly as he describes the various phases of a star’s life.

“Stars, like our volunteer here, go through stages of birth, life, and death,” he explains, pointing to you as he illustrates each phase. “From a protostar to a main-sequence star, and eventually, to a supernova or a black hole.”

Professor Jeon continues to explain the star's relation to other galactic entities, bringing up other students—now less nervous because of your contribution—to play different roles.

Throughout the rest of the lecture, Seokmin continued to refer to you as “Star.” After the class, you stay behind to organize the materials for grading. Seokmin approaches you, a friendly smile still on his face. “Need any help with that, Star?”

“I’ve got it,” you say a bit too quickly, trying to hide your frustration. “Thanks, though.”

“No problem,” Seokmin replies, still smiling. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

You nod curtly and turn back to your work, your mind racing. He continues to complete his own tasks before saying goodbye and leaving. How could someone who seems so perfect be so infuriating? As you stack the papers, you can’t shake the feeling of inadequacy that his presence seems to amplify. Your resentment deepens, fueling a sense of rivalry that you know will only make the semester more challenging.

As you leave the classroom, you take a deep breath, trying to push aside your negative thoughts. But one thing is clear: working with Seokmin is going to be anything but easy.

Seokmin loved the first day of the semester. It was a fresh start, a new opportunity to connect with eager minds—not to mention that he got to work by your side. When he first saw you as he opened the door the the lecture hall he found himself feeling giddy for the first time in a while.

As he moved through the classroom, he made a point to greet the students, asking about their summer and what they hoped to learn this year. His easygoing nature made the students feel at ease, and soon enough, the room was filled with animated chatter.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Seokmin asked one student, who responded enthusiastically about something you couldn’t hear. He laughed and shared a quick, similar story of his own, making the students laugh as well.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you watching, a look of mixed emotions on your face. Seokmin wanted to include you, to make sure you didn’t feel left out. He knew how important it was for TAs to present a united front to the students.

“Hey, why don’t you tell them about that interesting project you worked on last semester? I’m sure they want to know what they could be doing in the future,” Seokmin suggested, turning to you with a smile.

You gave a brief, awkward nod and explained the project, but Seokmin sensed your discomfort. He tried to be supportive, but it seemed to make things worse. Nevertheless, he tried to seamlessly blend your short story with one of his own – taking away the attention from you.

Throughout the week, Seokmin continued his efforts to include you in discussions and tasks. While preparing for a lecture, he turned to you to share your insights.

“What do you think about this theory?” he asked, genuinely curious about your perspective.

You responded with a terse, “It’s interesting,” before quickly diverting back to your own tasks, having barely looked at what he was referring to.

Seokmin furrowed his brow, confusion clouding his eyes. “Have you really considered the implications of this? I’d love to hear more about what you think.”

You sighed, sensing his persistence. “I told you, it’s interesting,” you repeated, hoping he would take the hint.

Seokmin couldn’t understand why his attempts to include you were met with such resistance. He genuinely respected your intelligence and wanted to collaborate. He knew that the professor told him not to stress you out with lectures, but he couldn’t picture you as the type to get stressed out about talking about your thesis topic. Especially not when he had offered to take on the responsibilities that he thought would be the hardest for you to do. Nevertheless, every time he reached out, he felt like he was hitting a wall, further complicating the dynamic between you.

“Is everything okay?” he ventured cautiously, concern lacing his voice. “You seem... distant.”

You paused, looking up from your notes for the first time. “I appreciate your help, Seokmin, really. But I work better alone. It’s just how I am.”

He nodded slowly, trying to process your words. “I understand that, but teamwork is also important. We could achieve so much more together.”

“Maybe,” you conceded, “but I need to focus right now. Please.”

Seokmin sighed, reluctantly stepping back. “Alright. Just know that I’m here if you need anything.”

You nodded, grateful for his understanding but still feeling the weight of the unspoken tension between you. As Seokmin walked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration and confusion. He respected your need for independence, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was more to your resistance than just a preference for working alone.

The library had always been your sanctuary, a place where you could immerse yourself in your work without distractions. Other than the librarian, Jeonghan, you didn’t have to speak to many people there–and talking to Jeonghan was hardly a difficult task for you. Although he acted as if he hated you for always asking him to bring out the “biggest and dustiest books he had ever seen,” you knew very well that he enjoyed your presence. But lately, even this haven was being invaded by Seokmin. Every time you saw him, he seemed perfectly at ease, balancing his research and TA duties with an effortless grace that you envied.

One evening, you walked into the library, your mind preoccupied with the growing pile of tasks. As you made your way to your usual spot, you saw Seokmin at a nearby table, surrounded by a stack of books and papers. He looked up and smiled warmly.

“Hey, how’s it going? How’s your thesis coming along?” he asked, his tone casual.

You forced a tight smile and replied, “It’s fine, thanks.” Inside, his question felt like a reminder of your own struggles, and it irritated you that he seemed to handle everything so easily.

Seokmin’s presence, once a minor annoyance, was becoming a constant source of irritation. His casual greetings and questions about your progress felt intrusive like he was keeping tabs on you. You tried to focus on your work, but his presence loomed large, a constant reminder of your perceived inadequacies.

During a late afternoon, as you were going to the professor’s office, you overheard a conversation that stopped you in your tracks. The door was slightly ajar, and the professor’s voice carried into the hallway.

“Seokmin has been doing an outstanding job,” the professor said. “His work ethic is impressive, and his contributions to the class are invaluable.”

You felt a pang of jealousy and frustration. Hearing the professor praise Seokmin so effusively only intensified your feelings of inadequacy and rivalry. It felt like no matter how hard you worked, you were always a step behind, always overshadowed by Seokmin’s achievements. It wasn’t like you could do something about it – the professor never allowed you to show what you were truly capable of. During the times that he had offered for you to hold lectures or seminars, Seokmin came in and took the opportunity away from you. The most you had managed to do was hold a few study groups, and it was only when Seokmin had been away.

As you walked away, your mind raced with thoughts of how to prove yourself, and how to step out of Seokmin’s shadow. The rivalry that had been simmering under the surface was now boiling over, driving you to work even harder, even if it meant pushing yourself to the brink.

The library was dimly lit, the scent of old books mingling with the sterile tang of late-night coffee. Although you appreciated Jeonghan letting you borrow the coffee machine in the librarian’s office, it truly tasted horrible–you were convinced the only reason Jeonghan liked it was that he poured in at least two packets of sugar in his cup. Around you, stacks of papers towered like miniature skyscrapers, each one a testament to the endless stream of work that flooded your life.

Grading papers had become a nightly ritual, sandwiched between frantic attempts to wrangle your thesis into coherence. The weight of it all pressed down on your shoulders like an invisible burden, threatening to suffocate any semblance of calm. Meanwhile, Seokmin got to have the job with all the glory and all the fun – at this point, you were starting to question if your professor had something out for you.

Fingers numb from hours of scribbling notes, you slumped forward, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to alleviate the headache that had been your unwelcome companion for days. The clock on your laptop blinked mockingly, its digits crawling towards midnight with relentless indifference.

It was then, in that hushed sanctuary of knowledge, that the dam finally burst. Tears welled up unexpectedly, blurring the lines of formulas, calculations, and the horrible handwriting of some of your undergrad students. The sound of your own choked sobs startled you, but you were too exhausted, too overwhelmed to care about appearances.

Unbeknownst to you, Seokmin had been nearby, engrossed in his own research until the echo of your distress reached his ears. Concern etched lines of worry across his normally composed features as he approached cautiously, unsure of how to breach the invisible barrier that separated you. 

“Hey,” his voice was soft, tentative, like a gentle breeze through a storm. He offered a tissue from his bag, the simple gesture more comforting than any words could convey. “Are you okay?”

Your initial instinct was to brush him off, to hide behind the façade of resilience you had painstakingly crafted. But tonight was different. Tonight, you were tired—bone-deep exhaustion that rendered you defenseless against the kindness in his eyes.

“I don't know.” The admission was barely a whisper, but Seokmin heard. Without hesitation, he settled into the seat beside you, the library chair creaking slightly under his weight. He didn't pry, didn't offer unsolicited advice. Instead, he simply began to gather the scattered papers, organizing them into neat piles with practiced efficiency.

You watched him in silence, marveling at the unexpected gentleness in his actions. Here was Seokmin, the academic rival who had seemed so untouchable, now offering a lifeline without expectation of reciprocity. He continued working, dividing the papers that you had graded and the papers that were untouched into two piles. Then, he silently started grading the latter. No words were needed. You wiped your tears and picked up your computer to begin working on your thesis again.

Minutes stretched into hours as the two of you worked side by side. Seokmin handled the grading, his elegant script flowing effortlessly across the pages. Meanwhile, you poured your fragmented thoughts about your thesis onto the screen, finding solace in the rhythm of typing keys.

In that shared silence, a subtle shift occurred. Walls that had once stood tall and impenetrable crumbled, revealing vulnerabilities neither of you had dared to expose before. As the night wore on, Seokmin's presence became a lifeline, anchoring you amidst the storm of deadlines and doubts.

By dawn, the library was bathed in the soft hues of morning light. The papers were graded, and the thesis draft was finally completed. Jeonghan came in just as the two of you were packing up, his long hair tied up and his glasses sitting on the tip of his nose. He looked at you with raised eyebrows and a disapproving glance—while he did allow you to stay in the library even after closing, he didn’t exactly encourage it. You sent him a tired, apologetic smile. He started walking towards you and finally spotted Seokmin. Jeonghan cleared his throat, gaining Seokmin’s attention from the pile of graded papers he was organizing.

“I’m assuming you two stayed here all night,” he said, “Otherwise, you’ve broken in before opening hours– and then I’d have to call the police.”

Seokmin immediately got flustered, profusely apologizing. The blubbering mess he became was probably from shock and sleep deprivation, but you had never seen him like this. A smile appeared on your face, and you put your hand on his shoulder.

“He’s joking, it’s fine.” You looked up at the librarian. “Right, Jeonghan?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He waved his hand nonchalantly and started to walk away now that there was no more teasing to be done. “Clean up properly and be out of here in like ten minutes. I can’t have people knowing that I give you special treatment.”

You hummed and started packing up your things. Seokmin put the graded papers into a folder and stood up, stretching out his legs and arms.

“Do you do this a lot?” he asked.

“Not for this long, usually,” you muttered. “But yeah, why?”

“... no reason.” He shrugged and sat back down. “I thought that grading papers was the easier job.”

You scoffed and sent him an irritated glance.

“You’re the lucky one,” you said. “Holding lectures actually seems fun – most of the time, I’m just trying to decipher what most of these students are even writing.”

Seokmin nods solemnly and hands you the file. You stand up and bid him goodbye, before hurrying to administration to get the grades filed.

The lecture hall was almost empty, save for a few scattered students gathering their belongings after Professor Jeon’s rigorous class on quantum mechanics. Seokmin lingered near the doorway, watching you pack up your notes with a furrowed brow. He couldn't shake off the image of you from last night in the library, vulnerable and overwhelmed. Now he had to watch you sit through the professor’s lecture, pretending like you hadn’t just stayed up all night, and soullessly give out worksheets to the students.

Newfound awareness weighed heavily on Seokmin's mind as he replayed the events of the previous evening. He had always admired your intellect and dedication, but now, seeing the toll it took on you firsthand, he understood the gravity of your struggles. The pressure of expectations, both self-imposed and external, seemed to suffocate every moment of your academic life. He thought he had been nice to you, making your life easier by taking care of all the social aspects, but his perspective had been too narrow.

With a resolve born out of newfound understanding, Seokmin decided to act. He spotted you exiting the lecture hall, shoulders slumped under the weight of exhaustion. Without a second thought, he hurried after you, a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

“Hey, Star, wait up!” he called out gently, reaching your side just as you reached the exit. “I thought you might need this.”

Exhaustion still fogged your mind, the remnants of last night's breakdown lingering like a dull ache. He was holding a cup of coffee out to you, you looked down at the paper mug and then back up at him. At Seokmin's gesture of kindness, your immediate reaction was instinctive—a defensive snap, laced with frustration and misunderstanding.

“I don't need your pity, Seokmin,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze as guilt flickered in your eyes.

Seokmin's heart sank at your words, but he didn't retaliate. He knew your reaction stemmed from exhaustion and vulnerability, not malice. Taking a deep breath, he waited patiently, understanding that healing wounds of insecurity took time and patience.

The next day, Seokmin found you in the same lecture hall, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes. This time, he approached cautiously, his usual confidence tempered by humility. “Can we talk?” he asked softly, careful not to startle you.

You glanced up, surprise flickering across your features at his persistence. Relenting, you nodded slightly, allowing him to join you at the table littered with equations and diagrams.

“I didn't realize,” Seokmin began quietly, choosing his words with care. “I didn't realize how much pressure you were under. If I had known, I would have never added to it.”

His sincerity resonated in the quiet sincerity of his voice, catching you off guard. 

“Added to it?” you questioned.

“I asked the professor to let me take care of the lectures and study groups,” he admitted. “I was truly only thinking of you, I thought I could make it easier for you.”

A bitter taste lingered in your mouth. All this time, this had been his fault – all of the doubt over whether or not your professor wanted to break your spirit had been nothing more than a request made by Seokmin. However, you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for just a moment before looking back at him.

“You wanted to make it easier for me?”

“I thought, since you don’t talk that much… it was dumb, I’m sorry.” He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, his glasses sliding up his forehead. “I’ll go tell the professor about it, we can reschedule things.”

“... thanks.”

The days following Seokmin's gesture of understanding were a delicate dance between acceptance and wariness. Despite the lingering skepticism, you couldn't deny the shift in dynamics between you. Seokmin's actions spoke louder than words, his genuine concern slowly chipping away at the walls you had erected. He asked the professor to change some of the duties, as he had promised, and even went so far as to offer to help you with your thesis. You allowed him to proofread it for you, and the two of you started spending more and more time with each other.

Reluctant acceptance crept into your interactions as you begrudgingly allowed Seokmin's presence and assistance. He no longer seemed like an adversary lurking in the shadows of your achievements but a partner navigating the same stormy seas of academia. His willingness to help without expectation of reciprocity was both unsettling and oddly comforting.

Late afternoons in the university's coffee shop turned into impromptu discussions about the mysteries of black holes that you were writing about as well as Seokmin’s thesis on altermagnetism. Your shared passion for space and astrophysics brought you closer together, each conversation revealing layers of depth and curiosity you hadn't anticipated.

One afternoon, amidst a lively debate on the implications of quantum entanglement, you found yourself sharing a piece of your past—the months you spent as a museum guide at the Jeju Starlight World Park and Planetarium. The memories flowed freely, painting a picture of a younger version of yourself enamored with the cosmos and its infinite wonders.

It was during this conversation that Seokmin proposed a trip—an invitation wrapped in sincerity and a hint of nervousness. “There's a free weekend coming up," he began tentatively, eyes fixed on yours with unwavering determination. "I thought... maybe we could visit the museum together."

Surprise mingled with nostalgia as you considered his proposal. The Jeju Starlight World Park held a special place in your heart—a sanctuary where stars glittered like promises against the velvet canvas of the night sky. Seokmin's offer to drive felt like an extension of his desire to understand you better, a chance to revisit a place where your love for astrophysics had taken root.

After a moment's hesitation, you nodded, a tentative smile curling at the corners of your lips. “I'd like that,” you admitted softly, the weight of uncertainty lifting with each heartbeat. In Seokmin's eyes, you glimpsed a flicker of gratitude and relief, a silent acknowledgment of the fragile bond blossoming between you.

The weekend arrived with a crispness in the air, promising a respite from the relentless pace of academic life. Seokmin pulled up in front of your apartment in his modest car, a hint of nervous anticipation in his eyes as you climbed into the passenger seat. He smiled warmly, trying to hide his nerves. "Ready for a little break, Star?"

You nodded, clutching your bag tightly. "I brought some work to catch up on during the drive."

Seokmin chuckled softly. "Of course you did."

The drive to Jeju Starlight World Park and Planetarium was long, and you were determined to work during the entire trip. You pulled out your laptop and began typing furiously, barely glancing up. However, as soon as the car started moving, the soft humming of the motor and the quiet songs coming from the radio lulled you into a sense of calm you hadn’t felt in weeks. Before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up, you were just about to roll up to the museum. You noticed that your computer was neatly tucked into your bag again, and that you had Seokmin's jacket draped over your lap. He must have stopped by the side of the road to help you, but you decided not to ask about it. Seokmin noticed you stirring and gave you a gentle smile. "Hey, sleepyhead. We're almost there."

You rubbed your eyes, a bit disoriented. "I can't believe I fell asleep."

"It's okay," he said. "You needed the rest."

Arriving at the museum, you were greeted by the familiar sight of the dome-shaped building, its façade adorned with twinkling lights that mirrored the stars above. Memories flooded back as you stepped through the entrance, the air scented with nostalgia and the promise of new discoveries.

Inside, the museum buzzed with activity. Visitors young and old marveled at interactive exhibits and life-sized models of spacecrafts, their faces alight with wonder. You led Seokmin through the exhibits with the confidence of someone revisiting a cherished haven, explaining the intricacies of stellar evolution and the beauty of the night sky.

In the planetarium, darkness enveloped you both as the dome above transformed into a canvas of celestial wonders. A hush fell over the audience as the narrator's voice guided you on a journey through the cosmos—galaxies swirling, stars born and dying in spectacular bursts of light. Beside you, Seokmin watched in awe, his usual composure giving way to childlike fascination.

After the show, you found yourselves outside under a sky strewn with stars. The air was crisp and cool, carrying with it the promise of a clear night. Seokmin broke the silence, his voice soft against the backdrop of the universe. “Thank you for coming with me, Star,” he said sincerely, eyes tracing the constellations above.

You smiled, touched by his gratitude. “It's always been a special place for me,” you admitted, your gaze following his to the heavens. “Even after I stopped working here, I used to come here to find inspiration when things felt overwhelming... I don't really have time for that anymore, of course.”

After a day filled with awe and shared moments at the Jeju Starlight World Park and Planetarium, Seokmin navigated the car through winding roads leading away from the museum. The sky had darkened, and stars peppered the canvas above, casting a soft glow over the landscape. Under the stars that had witnessed countless stories of love and longing, of dreams and discoveries, you and Seokmin found a moment of quiet peace.

“We should find a place to stay for the night,” Seokmin suggested, glancing at you with a gentle smile.

You nodded in agreement. Seokmin found a quaint motel nestled on the outskirts of town, its neon sign flickering a warm welcome in the darkness. The receptionist greeted you with a friendly smile, which you couldn't seem to return out of pure embarrassment, as Seokmin checked you in for the night.

“... and here’s your key,” the receptionist said and handed you one key.

“Oh, we’ll need two rooms,” Seokmin said.

“I’m sorry, we only have one.” The receptionist gave you an apologetic smile. “We could contact someone further down the road–”

“It’s alright,” you said. “We’ll just sleep in separate beds.”

“I’m sorry.” The receptionist paused and let out an awkward chuckle. “There’s only one bed in that room.”

Both you and Seokmin looked at each other. Neither of you were fit to drive, and even if you didn’t want to sleep next to him you realized that you would have to.

Entering the room, you were met with simple yet cozy accommodations—a bed draped in crisp linens, soft lighting casting a warm ambiance. The air hummed with the unspoken understanding that lingered between you, a growing tension that spoke volumes in the silence.

Moments passed as you both settled into the space, the weight of the day's experiences hanging in the air. Seokmin's eyes searched yours, his usual confidence giving way to vulnerability as he spoke softly, “Today has been... incredible.”

You nodded, mirroring his sentiment. “It really has,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You both got into bed, laying on your backs so as to not get too close. But as the night went on, neither of you could fall asleep. It was getting cold, and even the comforter wasn’t enough. 

“I’m freezing,” Seokmin admitted.

“Me too,” you replied.

“Star... do you… want to sleep next to me?” he asked tentatively.

“I already am, stupid.” You let out a nervous chuckle.

“No I mean–” Seokmin sighed. “I don’t want to be a creep, please just tell me if this is weird… but do you want me to… hold you? Just since it’s so cold, that's all.”

“... just because it’s so cold.”

The distance between you closed with each heartbeat, drawn together by an undeniable magnetism. Tentative touches turned into embraces, hands finding solace in the warmth of each other's presence. Words became unnecessary as the night unfolded, emotions spoken through lingering gazes and tender caresses. His heart was beating fast, but with every minute that passed he calmed down. Your arms wrapped around his torso, and he got comfortable under your head and slung around your waist. He smelled of florals, and something expensive and woody. Even his cologne was perfect. You sighed and nuzzled closer to him, and his embrace 

As dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, you awoke to find Seokmins fingers tracing patterns on your skin. You pretended to be asleep for just a little longer. In that quiet morning light, amidst the remnants of dreams and the promise of new beginnings, you both understood that the journey you had embarked upon was far from over. Eventually, he got up and got dressed and you pretended to wake up as well.

Back at the university, the air between you and Seokmin crackled with new energy—a silent understanding that transcended words. Your interactions became charged with unspoken feelings, lingering glances that spoke volumes, and moments of shared laughter that echoed long after they had passed.

In lecture halls and quiet corners of the campus coffee shop, you found yourselves drawn to each other like celestial bodies caught in orbit. Seokmin's kind comments and gestures of support became a lifeline amidst the tumult of academic pressures, each act deepening the connection that had silently taken root.

One evening, as twilight painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, you found yourself seated with Jeonghan at the library. Although he would often tease you and be relentlessly cocky, he had always been a calming presence – his gentle demeanor and insightful advice made him a trusted confidant. 

“I've been feeling... confused,” you admitted softly, uncertainty lacing your words as you wrestled with emotions that had blossomed unexpectedly. “Seokmin... he's really been there for me recently, supporting me in ways I never expected.”

Jeonghan listened attentively, his warm gaze encouraging you to unravel the tangled threads of your thoughts. With each word, clarity began to emerge—a realization that the admiration and warmth you felt for Seokmin ran deeper than mere professional respect.

“He's not just a rival anymore,” you confessed, a hint of awe coloring your voice. “He's been impressing me with his kindness, his understanding...”

The admission hung between you like a delicate veil, its weight buoyed by the relief of finally voicing your inner turmoil. Jeonghan nodded knowingly, a reassuring smile gracing his lips.

“You like him,” he said.

“What? No, I don’t– he’s a friend.”

“You slept in the same bed together, didn’t you?”

“Friends can sleep together…”

“Friends don’t describe the way someone smells like you just did,” he argued, referring to what you had told him earlier of your time in the motel.

“But I can’t like him… that doesn’t seem right.”

“Sometimes, the heart finds its way through unexpected paths,” Jeonghan mused, his words carrying the wisdom of someone who had witnessed the ebb and flow of countless emotions within the walls of the library. “What matters most is how you choose to navigate this journey. Trust your heart, but also trust in Seokmin's intentions. He seems like a good guy.”

“I keep forgetting that you can actually give good advice instead of just sly remarks,” you teased him and Jeonghan scoffed.

“What do you want me to say?” He chuckled. “‘Let me know how big his dick is when you get there?’”

“Jeonghan.” You groaned as your friend laughed – you were lucky that no one was in the library at this late hour.

“Seriously, though.” Jeonghan wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Seokmin seems good for you. You’ve definitely been less stressed since I caught the two of you in here-”

“You’re making that sound weird on purpose!” you exclaimed and Jeonghan grinned.

“Whatever, whatever…” He waved his hand as if to swat away his previous words. “Just think about it– by the way you’ve been describing him, he’s probably into you too. Maybe talk to him about it?”

With Jeonghan's words echoing in your mind, you knew that the time had come to confront your feelings, to acknowledge the unspoken connection that had blossomed between you and Seokmin—a connection that promised not just the possibility of romance, but a partnership grounded in shared dreams, understanding, and the quiet strength found in moments of vulnerability and acceptance.

After Jeonghan locked up the library, Seokmin ended up meeting up with you outside the faculty building. He looked tired, probably from grading papers or looking over reports, but he still smiled when he saw you walk past him with Jeonghan.  You excused yourself to the librarian and left to walk home with Seokmin – not without Jeonghan telling you to “Go get him,” of course.

The night draped the university campus in a serene quietness, the lampposts casting gentle pools of light along the pathways as you and Seokmin strolled together. Laughter still echoed softly between you, a rare moment of levity amidst the academic rigors.

In a playful jest you quipped, “You know, Seokmin, Jeonghan suggested you might be in love with me.”

The words spilled out almost reflexively, laced with a hint of nervous humor to disguise the vulnerability beneath. Your heart skipped a beat as you waited, half-expecting Seokmin to brush off your comment with a laugh. Seokmin stopped walking, and you followed suit. 

His expression shifted, his gaze intensifying. “Actually, I think I am in love with you,” he confessed quietly, his tone devoid of jest or uncertainty.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis at that moment, your breath catching in your throat as you processed his words. The playful banter melted away, leaving behind a raw honesty that shimmered between you.

“You... you're serious?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper, disbelief and hope mingling in equal measure.

Seokmin nodded, his gaze unwavering as he took a step closer. “I am,” he affirmed, his voice steady and sure. “I've been struggling to find the right moment to say it, but I've known for a while now.”

His confession washed over you like a wave, carrying with it a flood of emotions—joy, disbelief, and a profound sense of connection that surpassed the academic rivalry that had once defined your relationship.

In that quiet corner of the campus, under the canopy of stars that bore witness to your revelation, a shift occurred—a mutual acknowledgment of the feelings that had quietly blossomed amidst shared moments of vulnerability and understanding.

“I don’t know what to say…” you whispered.

“Don’t say anything, Star,” Seokmin said with a sad smile. “I don’t want this to get in the way of what you want out of your career – you shouldn’t be thinking about my feelings for you when you’re about to finish your thesis… we can always take it later.”

“... okay.” You nodded. “Please, don’t take this as me rejecting you.”

“I’m not.” He gave you a big grin. “It’ll be my motivation to finally finish my thesis.”

You smiled at him in return. As you continued your walk, the air between you hummed with newfound depth and possibility—a promise of a future yet to be written, illuminated by the light of a love that had bloomed unexpectedly, nurtured by the guidance of friends like Jeonghan and the quiet courage to embrace the unknown journey ahead. Your hand brushed against Seokmin’s several times on your walk home, but neither of you mentioned it. You only relished in the sparks the small touch ignited – waiting patiently for more.

As the final weeks of our graduate studies drew near, the campus was abuzz with anticipation and fervor. It was the climax of numerous years of hard work, late nights spent poring over books, and scholarly pursuits. Both you and Seokmin immersed ourselves in meticulously shaping our theses, balancing the demands of being teaching assistants with unrelenting commitment and a strong, unwavering sense of purpose. Somehow, you got there in the end. Your theses were approved, your opposition went smoothly, and you finally got to graduate together.

Amidst the excitement and wistfulness on the morning of graduation day, the campus bustled with energy. The sight of fellow graduates dressed in gowns and mortarboards filled the air with a sense of anticipation. In the midst of it all, you and Seokmin were inexplicably drawn to each other, the atmosphere around you filled with unspoken emotions.

As the festivities and goodbyes filled the air, Seokmin decided to take you to a secluded section of the campus garden. His face held a serious, yet affectionate, expression, creating an atmosphere of warmth that couldn't be missed. You couldn’t read through his gaze, but the silence between you was deafening. 

“I heard Professor Jeon gave you a reference for the new doctorate position here, congratulations,” you said to break the silence.

“Ah, thank you… you already got accepted, didn’t you?” he asked.

“Only because I was so pushy with my reference–” You downplayed your achievement but stopped yourself once you heard what you were saying. “I did.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?”

Confess to you.

“Why did you take me here, Seokmin?” you asked. “Isn’t the ceremony about to start?”

“Just a minute, I won’t be long… I want to say something,” he began, his voice carrying a clarity and certainty that resonated deep within you.

Seokmin, with the depth of intimacy that comes from sharing emotional journeys across galaxies, once more poured out his feelings, this time with an unshakable and unwavering conviction. “I love you, Star,” he declared, his eyes locking with yours, laying bare the depth of his emotions.

When he professed his feelings for you, you found yourself overcome with a rush of emotions. Your response was filled with a deep sense of appreciation and a newfound bravery that filled your heart. “I love you too,” you whispered.

He blinked at you, momentarily speechless, his carefully thought-out plans unraveling in the face of raw emotion. His stunned expression was almost comical, and you couldn't help but laugh softly. The sound of your laughter seemed to break the tension, and you reached up, your fingers gently cradling his face. His skin was warm under your touch, and you could feel the slight roughness of his day-old stubble.

Seokmin's eyes fluttered closed, his long lashes brushing against his cheeks as he savored the delicate touch of your lips. His hands settled lightly on your waist, fingers barely pressing into the fabric of your clothes, as if afraid to break the spell. The kiss was brief, a mere whisper of the deep emotions swirling between you. When he pulled away, you could see a myriad of thoughts floating in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice soft and sincere. Almost immediately, Seokmin groaned and put his palm against his forehead, realizing how awkward his words sounded. You couldn't help but laugh at his comment, the sound light and teasing.

“I don’t want the first thing I say after our kiss to be ‘thank you,’” he muttered, looking embarrassed.

He gave you a sheepish smile, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “Don’t laugh at me…”

“Sorry–” you said, still giggling. Then, with a playful glint in your eye, you pulled him down to your face a second time. “That one doesn’t count, then.”

You kissed him again, a quick, soft peck, and then pulled back, looking at him expectantly. Seokmin's mind seemed to be spinning as he searched for something to say. Your kiss had left him so dizzy he could hardly tell up from down.

“You’re out of this world, Star,” he finally managed, his voice breathless and sincere.

You let out a groan, shaking your head at the cheesiness of his words. Seokmin couldn’t help but laugh, the sound warm and genuine. He then pulled you into a tight embrace, resting his chin on top of your head, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

The tender moment was interrupted by the intercom crackling to life once more, reminding the students to proceed to the grand hall for the ceremony. With a sigh, you both reluctantly pulled apart, the reality of the event bringing you back to the present.

The graduation ceremony was a blur of speeches, applause, and the bittersweet feeling of an era ending. As the sound of applause gradually faded away, you and Seokmin found yourselves standing side by side at the entrance of the university building. The excitement of the moment mingled with a deep sense of nostalgia, the weight of the years spent here settling over you both.

You looked at each other, the shared understanding that this was both an end and a beginning reflected in your eyes. With fingers intertwined, you walked hand in hand towards the grand doors, feeling a profound sense of achievement and anticipation for the future.

Outside, the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for you to step into it. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the campus, and as you walked together, you knew that this was just the start of a new journey. The path ahead was uncertain, but with Seokmin by your side, you felt ready to face anything. Together, you stepped out into the world, ready to embrace whatever came next.

feedback is always welcome!

taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag, @d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303, @lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz, @cali-snow, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang, @wonuvs, @dokyeomkyeom, @kyeomiis, @gyuguys, @notevenheretbh1

[aethon-recs]

This Week in Tomarrymort (30 August – 5 September 2024)

For this week, I want to dedicate a short note to A Dangerous Game by Cybrid, which updated with the final epilogue chapter, seven years after the first chapter was uploaded to AO3. 

So many emotions I’m feeling after reading this — it’s been a long and gratifying journey keeping up with the updates here, and I’m sure I echo everyone in this ship when I say how grateful we are to Cybrid for having given us one of the most lovingly crafted and foundational works within the Tomarrymort ship. Thank you for everything you’ve poured into these years of writing and hundreds of thousands of words, which I’ll treasure and continue to reread for years and years to come 🤍

Previous Tomarrymort weeklies: 23-29 August 2024 | 7-15 August 2024 | 15-22 August 2024

*

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapter 61 (Completed) of A Dangerous Game by Cybrid

Chapter 3 (Completed) of Devil's Trill by TimaeusKosmou

One Shot | Buried in the Stacks by @moontearpensfic

One Shot | yet I still believe in ever after with you by @wynnefic

One Shot | let the sky fall by @wynnefic

One Shot | The Heat of the Moment Showed in Your Eyes by @apocryphalzenith

One Shot | love me 'til my lips turn blue by @xodahafez

One Shot | Your Heart Got Teeth by tearfulandweeping

One Shot | Loving You Is Never Letting Go by tearfulandweeping

One Shot | Pall by @floatingdandelionseeds

One Shot | The bed by @jjaegerbomb

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 20 of What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes

Chapter 28 of Of Kings, of Pawns, and of Men by @ambivalens999

Chapters 1 and 2 of Glorious by @obsidianpen

Chapter 3 of the vault by @milkandmoon-ao3

Chapter 1 of The Stubborn Hunger by @thefangirlibrarian

Chapter 4 of Blood Like Candy by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 32 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapters 117 and 118 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 15 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Chapter 17 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapter 14 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapter 1 of doublethink by confunded

Chapter 20 of Time Stumbler by Wintumn

Chapter 15 of hook, line, and sinker by @purplemineralwater

Chapter 11 of Catching up by lemonchase

Chapter 7 of His condition by @ciacconne

Chapter 4 of midnight train by @girl-with-goats

Chapter 7 of But What Is Eternity by thelxiepeia

Chapter 6 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 4 of the silence in between by ermineah

[helen-with-an-a]

Lena Oberdorf

Enemies to Lovers fic?

It isn't really enemies to lovers but I think it's kinda cute? I hope you enjoy it <3<3<3

Hatred

Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Description: A miscommunication led to years of hatred between R and Lena

Word Count: 2k

It had been a pretty rough ride for you to say the least. You were just 15 when you made your professional debut. At the time, it had been all you ever wanted, professional football at such a young age. Who wouldn’t want that? But like most young players who started their career too early, you were plagued by injuries. An ACL at just 18 years old and a meniscus tear at 20. It had been a long, long road to recovery, but you were just beginning to reach the levels you once were. The previous season had been your first full one back since you were 18 years old and you were storming ahead.

You had completed the season with SGS Essen, and you had gone from strength to strength. It was a true come back story. A player riddled with injuries becoming integral to her team’s defensive line. In fact, you were doing so well that you were gaining attention from top teams all over Europe.

You hadn’t really intended on moving teams, you still had a season left on your contract with Essen, but this was an offer no one could pass up. It happened late in the transfer window. Just days before it closed. Your agent had called and you were in a meeting with the higher ups within hours. You didn’t really want to leave – you liked it at Essen, there was pressure to perform well, of course there was, but there wasn’t the intenseness that you had felt prior to your injury.

You had been expected to make the move to Wolfsburg during the Covid outbreaks, but during a training session with the club, you had felt the pop and heard the snap. Wolfsburg rescinded their offer for you as a young defensive midfielder, arguing that nothing had been signed and stating that they couldn’t take you on since you would cost them so much time, money and effort to get fit again. It was a risk they weren’t willing to take. It had broken your heart when you were told, but with a little cajoling from your teammates and the staff at Essen, you had turned that disappointment into fire. A fire to be better than you ever were before.

Your heart had shattered into a million pieces when you found out who Wolfsburg had signed instead of you. The same age, the same position, hell even the same team. Lena’s farewell picture and signing announcement happened within moments of each other. To say you were devastated would have been an understatement. You were friends. Good friends. Maybe there could have been something more between you if the time was right. Was that why it hurt so much when she had disappeared without warning, without telling you? Maybe that was why it felt like she had just thrown you under the bus. Your loss was her gain, right?

You never anticipated that you would be doing the same thing to her a few years later. You hadn’t quite made it back to the international level just yet, but you were getting there. You still had many friends on the team, so you liked to watch their games. You saw her go down and knew almost instantly what it was. You saw the way her knee popped and moved. You heard her shouts. Your heart was breaking all over again as you saw her get carried off the pitch. You had debated messaging her – you had even gone so far as to click on her Instagram profile and go into the messages. You backed out when you saw what the last message you had sent was.

8th June 2020, 12:13

yourusername: https://www.tiktok.com...

yourusername: how fucking cute is that ^^^^

yourusername: also

yourusername: https://www.tiktok.com...

yourusername: I wanna make this for lunch ^^^^

lena_oberdorf: omg cutieeeeeee

lena_oberdorf: ooooo that looks so good

lena_oberdorf: ugh i want it now too

8th June 2020, 15:04

yourusername: You signed for Wolfsburg?

lena_oberdorf: Right?????? How insane is that?

8th June 2020, 15:34

lena_oberdorf: Y/N????

8th June 2020, 23:56pm

yourusername: You backstabbing bitch

9th June 2020, 01:37

lena_oberdorf: huh?

lena_oberdorf: what did I do?

lena_oberdorf: Y/N

lena_oberdorf: Is something wrong?

lena_oberdorf: Did I do something?

lena_oberdorf: Y/N/N?

lena_oberdorf: ????

10th June 2020, 12:40

lena_oberdorf: please

10th June 2020, 15:19

yourusername: Don’t ever talk to me again

lena_oberdorf: What did I do? Please? Y/N/N???

yourusername: Fuck off

You remembered everything. The pain, the hurt, the frustration, the fear, the anger. You didn’t mean a word of what you said, even back then and especially now. But how could she had signed to Wolfsburg when she knew that you were the young defensive midfielder they were signing for the upcoming season. The pain had settled into guilty not even 30 seconds after you sent it. But you were hurt and embarrassed and broken hearted.

You hadn’t realised that you were doing the same thing to her. You knew that she had signed for Bayern back in January. You had tried your best to ignore it, but it was major news in the Bundesliga. The transfer seemed almost rushed. One moment you were sitting rather happily in your little flat, the next you were in the SGS Essen’s main offices, and then you were in the car, pack up and ready to make the move down to Munich.

The dreams you had harboured since you were a child seemed within reach. The club’s history, the chance to play alongside some of the best players in the world, it was all you could think about. But the thought of leaving Essen weighed heavily on you. This club had been your home, your sanctuary during the toughest times of your life. The support from the fans, the camaraderie with your teammates, it all made leaving incredibly difficult.

The meeting with Bayern's representatives was intense. They laid out their vision for the team, how they saw you fitting into their plans, and the opportunities that awaited you. It was everything you had ever wanted to hear. But there was a part of you that kept thinking about Essen, about Lena, and about how history seemed to be repeating itself.

You had a sleepless night before making your decision. The messages with Lena replayed in your mind, reminding you of the hurt you had felt and the hurt you had caused. You didn't want to be the reason someone else felt that same pain. But you also knew that this opportunity was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. You had to take it, not just for yourself but for everyone who had supported you through your journey.

Your arrival was a little awkward. It was clear who Lena’s friends were and where they stood with you. It was a hard pill to swallow, considering a lot of them used to be your friends too, but that was in the past. You were here and had a job to do.

On the pitch, everything was fine. You were all professionals, and it was clear that you were doing your jobs. By the Christmas break, Bayern was well on the way to take the league title again and were doing well in the Champions League and the Cup as well. It was off the pitch that things became less friendly. Lena was recovering well, but it was clear she still had some work to do to get back to match day fitness. You were in the room with her the first time she ran on the treadmill. The memories were an almost constant in your mind, those first steps, the first run, the first time out on the grass. You couldn’t help yourself but look over and join in the cheering when she started up the machine.

It was afterwards that things took a turn for the worst. You had coincidentally finished in the gym the same time as her physio appointment. Normally, this was no bother, you had been skirting around in silence for months now and you were well-versed in ignoring each other. But this time round, she had slipped in the bathrooms. The small puddle of water that had been left by you after the shower was invisible to her as she made her way into the end stall.

You heard the shout and the loud clatter as she landed in a heap.

“Oh, my god.” You raced back into the room, intending to help her back to her feet.

“Don’t touch me,” she yelled. You took a step backwards, stuck halfway between leaning down to help and backing away from her anger. “Are you trying to fucking kill me or something?”

“Lena, I’m sorry. I-”

“What was it you called me? A backstabbing bitch? Takes one to know one, I guess.” She was standing now, her body seething in anger.

“Lena,” you tried to speak.

“No! You called me a backstabbing bitch for no apparent reason and here you are taking my spot on the team! What? Just ‘cos you couldn’t get into Bayern without a player being injured, you have to keep injuring me? Is that it?” Did she really think that?

“I-, No apparent reason? Fuck off Lena,” you shouted back, using anger as a way to mask the hurt. “You know exactly what you did. And talk about not being able to get into a club without an injury? Please, Wolfsburg only signed you since they couldn’t have me.” You snapped back

“What?” she spun back around to face you, your bodies so close you were almost touching.

“You are a total backstabber. You saw that Wolfsburg took back their offer and signed instead.” You willed yourself not to cry.

“Huh?” you could tell there was genuine confusion in her face.

“Wolfsburg’s offer? Back when you left Essen?”

“What about when I left Essen?”

“It was supposed to be me,” you exploded. “Wolfsburg told my agent that they could only afford one of the defending midfielders from Essen. I had the contract drawn up and everything. It was supposed to be me.”

The silence in the room was electric, the tension palpable. You were nose to nose. One slight adjustment and your lips would be on hers. Your breath hitched. Since when did you think of Lena like that? She was the bad guy here. Why were you thinking about that? She had been a friend, a really good friend. You would be lying to say that there wasn't something bubbling underneath. But then she left for Wolfsburg. Maybe that was why it hurt so much?

“Why didn’t you go?” Lena asked quietly.

“They took back their offer. I did my ACL just before I signed with them. And then you swooped in and took my spot. You knew how much I wanted to play with them. And you did it anyway.” The tears welled in your eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You cannot let her see you cry.

Lena's expression softened, her anger dissolving into something that looked like understanding, or maybe regret. She took a step back and resting against the sinks, shaking her head slowly. You tried to ignore the way your heart sank as she moved away.

“I didn’t know,” she murmured. “I had no idea. I would never have done that. Especially not to you.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but thought better of it.

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive gesture. “How could you not know? We were friends, Lena. We ... I ... You knew how much that offer meant to me.”

Lena looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and pain. “I thought... I don’t know what I thought. I was told you weren’t going to be able to play, that your injury was too severe. When they offered me the spot, I thought it was because you weren’t an option anymore. I didn’t realise it was... I didn’t know it was because they pulled your offer.” She looked like she was reevaluating everything.

You stared at her, your anger battling with the seeds of doubt creeping into your mind. Could it be that she really hadn’t known? The timing had been so perfect, too perfect, but now, looking into her eyes, you saw the sincerity there.

“You really didn’t know?” you asked, your voice wavering.

She shook her head. “No. If I had known... I don’t know what I would have done. But I wouldn’t have taken the offer without talking to you first. You have to believe that.” She pushed herself off the sink, covering the small distance between you in moments.

The weight of her words settled over you, and the anger that had been your constant companion for so long began to fade, replaced by a hollow sadness. You had lost a friend over this, and maybe, just maybe, it hadn’t been entirely her fault.

“I’ve been carrying this anger for so long,” you said quietly, more to yourself than to her. “I blamed you for everything.” Her hand came up to cup your cheek. This wasn't new, you had been ... something ... back at Essen, never crossing that line but the boundaries had been blurred. Your skin felt like it was on fire wherever she touched you.

Lena nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. “And I’ve been carrying the guilt. Every time I saw you play, every time I saw your name in the news, I wondered if you hated me. I guess I know the answer now.” She rested her forehead against yours. She was so close. You closed your eyes, letting her cinnamon scent drift over you.

You both stood in silence, the weight of the past hanging heavily between you. Finally, you took a deep breath and looked at her.

“I,” you started, your voice shaking. “I ... I don't really know what to say. Maybe we can try again? I don’t want to hate you anymore, Lena. It’s exhausting.”

She smiled, a small, tentative smile, but it was a start. “I’d like that,” she said softly. “I’d really like that.”

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7 K Warnings: None Prompt: It'd just one more day before it's full moon again, you must make sure you've got the smell of the pack... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 38: Let the Good Times Roll

Wednesday, December 22nd. 2:15 AM

When the party was over, you went up to your room alongside Lily to change. She wasn’t talking to you yet. You tried to give her some space, but you didn’t like not being able to talk to her. You weren’t even sure if you should apologise to her, and if you did, For what? For saying nasty things to Severus? You certainly weren’t sorry about that. Maybe for implying her in? That had been unnecessary, even if you knew it would spite him. 

You sighed as you walked in, Marlene and Mary were fast asleep, and you cast a quick silencing spell over their bed so neither you nor Lily would wake them up.  You looked at the redhead as you raised your wand and she walked towards the bathroom to change, avoiding your gaze altogether. 

Your gaze fixated on the closed door, a subtle crease forming on your forehead, and after a brief, contemplative moment, you bit your lip and walked over to your trunk to find something to change into yourself, giving one last look at the door before focusing completely on your task. She was out while you finished putting on your socks, leaning down on the bed as you stared at the floor. You missed the way she looked at you, only for a split second, but it was a longing stare. 

You also didn’t notice she had walked over to your bed until you felt it dip by your side. The feeling prompted you to sit upright, turning to look at her as quickly as possible.  She seemed to be hesitant to speak so you broke the silence instead, “I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, love–” she said as her shoulders slumped. She was about to say something else, but then you interrupted her, speaking almost a little too fast as you attempted to order your thoughts at the same time as you spoke. 

“I shouldn’t have implicated you in my fight with Severus. I was very mad at him for pushing you and James but using your name and his pent-up feelings for you to piss him off was disrespectful. To you more than him. And I did not consider how it might have affected you then, and I’m really sorry if I made you upset–” 

“Hey,” she said softly, licking her lips before placing a hand on your arm, much like Remus did often. “I’m sorry too.” You let out a short, relieved breath at the contact, she doesn’t like it when we fight either.  “James told me how hard he was shoved,” she explained, “He broke most of it with his arm and the door so I wouldn’t get hurt, but you and Remus must have seen it first hand, of course, you’d be mad.” 

“It was pretty bad,” you agreed, if Lily had gotten the full extent of the blow, she might have been sore now. 

“And I shouldn’t have lashed out at you either. I’m not excusing you for saying the things you did but I wasn’t just…” she seemed to hesitate for a second, as if she wasn’t sure which words she should use. “I wasn’t just angry at you, I was angry at Severus and at how much he’s changed through the years. He’s insufferable now, and I’m sorry you had to be the one defending me against him when I should be the one standing up for myself, but you didn’t know him then, he was different.” 

“He called you a mudblood,” you said, “James a bIood traitor and Remus a–” You didn’t even dare to say it. “I shouldn’t have used you, but there will never be a moment in which I won’t defend my friends, Lily. Even if it’s from their own friends.” 

It was her turn to sigh, “I know, it’s what I admire the most from you.” 

You leaned your head to the side, a soft smile drawing itself on your lips. “I admire your noble heart,” you said. “And your ability to stay calm in these kinds of situations. You’re like Remus, all warm and calm and conciliating–” 

“Oh, come on, you’ve seen me mad plenty of times.”

“Well yes, but you still manage to keep your head cool, I mean if Severus had–” you stopped yourself, you did not want to upset her further, instead you mumbled. “Might have punched him.”

“And be the aggressive Mudblood?” she asked you, your gaze almost fell at her words. She smiled bitterly, “I don’t have the luxury to retaliate like that.” 

You swallowed thickly. “It would be more than justified I–” you sighed. And then gave her another worried look, reaching your hand to grab hers. “I never even factored that in.” 

The weight of your privilege, the one bestowed upon you by your father who was keen on keeping up appearances of bIood purity, suddenly bore down on you. The privilege of not having to worry about your abilities, or having to prove how good you were simply to belong had never been more evident to you.

Of course, you had your own battles to fight, the world was still not fair for you, for any of your friends, really. But what Lily had to go through, the kind of bigotry she was exposed to and how she had to behave because of it, made you see her in a new light. Hours ago, if anyone told you, you’d admire Lily more than you did, you would have called them mad, and here you were, looking at your beautiful redhead friend and feeling nothing but utmost admiration for her. 

She smiled at you. “Thanks for being my knight in shining armour.” 

“Thanks for being the pure heart that holds me down when I’m about to go mad,” you responded with a smile. 

And then, laughter rippled through the room, a shared moment of catharsis. You let yourself fall on the bed, both you and Lily now staring at the wooden headboards and red curtains surrounding it. “Lily,” you began, your voice carrying a genuine warmth, “I don’t want to ever lose you as a friend.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ll latch onto you like a leech, I’ll be worse than Sirius even, you cannot get rid of me that easily.” 

“Not even if I hex Severus?” 

“Of course not,” she said with a laugh, but she quickly turned to look at you. “You’re not planning to hex him though, are you?” she asked in a worried tone. 

You just laughed in return. “Don’t worry about that, he’ll be suffering his own little issues tonight,” you said in a rather mysterious tone. 

She gasped, “What did you do?” 

“Me? Nothing.” You answered honestly. “In fact, it was he who stole the treat I was about to eat.” 

She threw you a look, “And you had nothing to do with it?” 

You shrugged, “Not my fault he and his gang are such gits.”  

Lily shook her head disapprovingly even if she had a smile plastered on her face. You stayed next to each other for a while. Eventually, she yawned, and you followed closely after. “You can stay on my bed if you want.” 

“Mhm?” She asked as she accommodated herself so her feet would be up on the bed and not resting on the ground like they had been previously since the two of you had been sitting on the edge, “You’re going with the boys? Because of the moon and the experiment Peter suggested, right?” 

You nodded in response, and then realised her eyes were closed, “Yes.” 

“Good night then,” she said and yawned again. You stood from the bed and brought over some covers from hers to place them on top of her since you had both laid on top of yours. As you did you leaned over to look at her and accommodated her hair behind her ear, you could see some of the freckles she always tried to hide with potions but that you found truly endearing. No wonder James liked her so much, your friend was gorgeous, but that was something you’d always known. 

You were too emotionally stirred to see the difference, while you considered both Lily and Remus your closest friends, and while you were attracted to girls, you didn’t even once look at Lily the exact same way you had looked at Remus through the night. The hunger that you felt for the latter was nothing compared to the sheer love and admiration you felt for the redhead. Two very different emotions, and they were there for two very different reasons, but you were still too blind to see. The blindfold, although slowly becoming sheerer, was still there. 

“I’m glad we’re still friends,” you whispered as you finished tucking her in. Then you made sure the rest of the girls were asleep before going back to the boy’s room. 

Now, it’s not that you were eager to go back to Remus. In fact, you thought you had ogled him enough with the horny potion still running through your system throughout the party –and it wasn’t gone entirely yet– but, just like Lily had mentioned, tomorrow was full moon. 

And while the couple of nights you had bunked with the boys had been enough, according to Remus who confirmed Vixen smelled like part of the pack, you had all agreed that the night before the full moon would be the most important. For a couple of reasons: first of all, the closer you smelled to the pack when Moony showed up, the more chances you would have to be accepted by him. Second, after the party, there was a high chance other people’s smells had been mixed in with your own, and thirdly, Remus said it would make him feel at ease knowing that Vixen smelled like nothing other than the pack. 

You wanted Remus to be at ease, especially in the particularly complicated time he had just before the moon, so you had all decided you’d meet again after the party was over. James had even lent his cloak so you could sneak out of your room and into theirs quietly. 

“What are you doing?” You heard someone whisper in your ear which had you jump a few feet back as you looked around. You had the cloak on, there was no fucking way… “Saw your door open.” The voice explained. 

You frowned, finally recognizing him, “Richie?!” 

“Boo,” he said as he became visible right in front of you, you stayed safely under the cloak.

“What– what are you doing in the Gryffindor tower?” 

“Can’t a ghost roam around freely in the castle?” He asked, with a slightly dramatic tone, ever so characteristic of him.  And then looked to the side pointing at the spot where your voice was coming from. “Kinda rude you don’t show yourself after I have.” 

You rolled your eyes, even if he couldn’t see it. “Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m quite literally in the middle of sneaking out of my dorm at three AM, of course, I cannot step out of my hideout,” you whispered.

He hummed at that, “I still think it’s rude,” he said with a shrug. 

“How did the portrait lady let you in?” 

“She didn’t, I sneaked in. You’re not the only one with secret passages knowledge,” he said, a little haughtily. 

You gave him an incredulous look, hardly remembering he couldn’t actually see it. “And you came over because…” 

“I was bored, thought of giving the first years something to talk about in their Christmas break,” he responded with a shrug. 

“Poor kids,” you said as you shook your head in disapproval. 

“What about you?” he countered. “Why are you sneaking out at three in the morning? Are you planning a new prank with your boyfriends?” 

You couldn’t quite tell Richie what you were going to do, let alone who you were going to do it with, so it was best to just lie. “Boyfriend, and yes, something like that.” 

Richie gave the nothingness a look of incredulity, you thought it was funny that even though he was the ghost, he was the one with a slightly lost gaze as he talked exclusively to your voice. “You keep telling yourself that, little witch.” He said the last thing on purpose, he had heard Remus call you that, and he wanted to tease you over it. Maybe then you’d fucking realise what he had seen a while ago, but you and your stupid boyfriends failed to see. 

You shuddered when he said your nickname, no one used that one but Remus. Not even Sirius that seemed to have about 10 different nicknames for you. You certainly did not like the way it sounded when Richie said it. Was it because it sounded a lot more patronizing rather than endearing? Or was it only you who perceived it that way? Of course, you weren’t about to tell him that you didn’t like it when he said it, he had already teased you about nicknames in the past. You did not want to give him yet another reason to be annoying. 

You sighed. “Anyway, I’ll let you torture the poor kids, I have somewhere to be.” 

“No, wait!” Richie said as he turned to follow your voice. “Where are you going?” 

“Boys dorms,” you said honestly. He gave you a look, eyebrows raised and a suggestive smile. You would have nudged him if you could actually touch him. “For the prank you dirty-minded ghost!” 

“Of course, of course,” he said as he moved his head from side to side, brows furrowed slightly, his voice dripping with playful condescence. 

You huffed at that, worst part was, with the potion that was –now you knew– clearly not gone entirely, you had easily gone back to the thoughts of Remus and Sirius and the fact that you’d actually be sleeping next to the two of them. Your only hope left was that said potion did not emit any sort of effect on Vixen. And that your fox thoughts would be cleaner than your human ones. 

“Don’t tell anyone you saw me here,” he whispered, “McGonagall has been getting on my nerves for sneaking into the Slytherin dorms last time. They think James convinced me to do it. As if.” 

“See what?” you asked, a complicit smile etched on your features, “I’ve been soundly sleeping on my bed all night.” 

He gave a pleased look at that. “Good luck with your boys. Have fun! Take your special teas and potions and all that.” 

“Richie!” you admonished. As if you needed warmer thoughts to enter your head. Enough had been your ridiculous admiration of Remus’ torso with how tight the navy-blue shirt fit him. Enough had been the thought that you’d probably end up sleeping right over it. No, not me. Vixen, you corrected yourself. You almost regretted sacrificing yourself for James, but being honest, he would have had it much worse than you did. At least your body wasn’t going to give any physical indication of your thoughts no matter how far they escalated. And honestly, Lily did not need more emotional strain in one night either. You weren’t sure how she would react to a horny James on a normal day, but it would definitely not be positive with the toll of the night. 

Richie just shrugged, gave you a wink, and disappeared through a wall. Your eyes trailed behind as you saw him go and then started to walk towards the boys’ dorms. The hallways were dark, and you had to be extra careful not to trip on your way down the set of stairs of the girls’ dorms and up the ones on the boys’. Thankfully you had already taken that same path a good deal of times and you knew how to get from point A to point B with relative stealth. 

Once you were outside of their door you had to take a deep breath, forcing the image of shirtless Remus you had seen a while ago off your head, and walked inside. The boys knew you were coming later that night, so you trust they were all presentable. When you walked inside, you spotted James thrown on his bed, tie loose and shirt slightly unbuttoned, snoring just slightly as he was half-covered with the sheets. Peter was on his bed, perfectly tucked and with a Gryffindor beanie that clashed entirely with his purple striped pyjamas.  He is cold, you realised, you were too. The cloak had never been that warm. 

Then you spotted your boys, the boys, you corrected yourself. Fucking Richie and damn Ackley’s potion, they’d made your mind all wonky. “No use in hiding luv, we saw the door open,” Sirius said, he was on the bed next to Remus who was reading a book you hadn’t seen before. Sirius was sketching something in a small notebook. Both boys stood rather close to each other, but Remus kept his gaze on his book, respecting Sirius’ earlier wish of not snooping on his drawing, even if the temptation was gnawing at him. 

You took part of the cloak off and placed it around your shoulders. “You’re drawing,” you pointed. 

“Mhm,” Sirius said in response. “Just practising expressions.” 

“How’s it going?” 

“Surprisingly great, wanna see?” He asked. Both you and Remus looked at him with a rather surprised expression. Sirius had never allowed either of you to see his drawings, and he was now so casually offering it, that it had the two of you puzzled. 

“Sirius, are you all right?” you asked as you stepped closer to the bed, letting James’ cloak fall over Remus’ trunk as you did. 

“Did you hit your head?” Remus intervened. 

“Or took a potion?” You added as you leaned over the bed and placed your hand on his forehead to check if he had some sort of fever. 

“What?” The boy asked with a frown as he gently pulled your hand off his head. “No, I– You know what? Never mind.” 

You let a disappointed “aw” in response. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to see it, we were just a little surprised,” you said, even pointing at Remus, to show it wasn’t just you that had been taken aback by his offer. 

“You’ve never shown us your drawings. At least not the ones in your notebook,” Remus added. 

Sirius seemed to hesitate at that, and they were right, he never showed his art to anyone. He had tried to show it to his mother once and she had berated him with it. Telling him it was a useless waste of his time and that he should instead be perfecting his charms, that Regulus was getting ahead of him and that he was lagging behind. That, if he continued, he would lose his chance to get into Hogwarts and would end up cast out of the family like a squib. He was only 8 at the time, and since that day, his drawings, other than the doodles on his notebooks, had been kept to himself. 

Sketchbook after sketchbook, sent to him by Andromeda and sometimes even his cool uncle Alphard (who had never been too loved by his mother and who had at least kept in touch with Sirius even after he had been kicked out last summer). Sirius had kept them all hidden and lock-charmed so no one would be able to access his art. But of course, he continued on drawing, sometimes because he saw something he wanted to remember, sometimes because he wanted to get better at it, sometimes for the sake of it, and sometimes because he wanted to piss Walburga off. 

Sirius had a rather specific way in which he would sit in the drawing room of his house, and while Regulus studied diligently, he would prop out his sketchbook and draw for hours, waiting for Walburga to come over, just to see her walk out of the room displeased, he enjoyed that look on her face so much that he would draw for even more hours, just to see if she’d come back and make it again. 

At some point he’d even found some drawing books in the family library, he had taken all of them and hid them in his trunk, using them to improve his skill –not that the practice hadn’t already done that for him, but he learnt a lot about proportions with those. Later on owling them to James and asking him to hide them when things got rougher at home. That Christmas he’d gotten even more books, all thanks to the Potters who’d given him a few as gifts (he had stayed with them over the break while telling his parents he’d be at Hogwarts), James had given him a set of always-sharp drawing pencils that he still used to this day. James had also told Peter and Remus about Sirius’ passion for drawing. Peter had gotten him some colouring pencils while Remus got him a leather bound sketchbook, the same he was using today, in fact. 

“Yeah I–” Sirius was hesitant, he didn’t even notice how easily it had slipped off his tongue. How he had just offered the two of you to see his drawing. The more he thought about it, the more he realised, he wanted the two of you to see it. He trusted you, unlike he’d ever trusted anyone in his life, and it was scary, giving someone so much power over him and his emotions. 

“Hey,” you said softly, noticing his change in demeanour.  “I’m sure both me and Rem would love to see your drawing. See what that pretty mind of yours came up with,” you reassured as you pointed at his forehead with one of your fingers as you mentioned his mind. “But neither of us is going to pressure you.” 

“We’re okay if you keep it to yourself,” Remus added, for good measure. He was feeling all sorts of warm feelings as he saw you treat Sirius with such kindness, to touch him with such tenderness, Merlin knew that boy needed this kind of affection and he was thrilled, that even if he couldn’t give it to him himself –not in the way he wanted at least– you could still do that for him. You really were made for each other. And he really was in the middle of a tender moment and he wasn’t sure if he should stay in it, not that either of you seemed to mind, you never did, he realised. 

“I want you to see it,” Sirius mumbled and he handed the sketchbook your way, one of his fingers in between the pages, to mark where the drawing was. You took it in your hands and opened it slowly when you realised what it was you gasped. 

“It’s beautiful,” you said honestly. Both the drawing and the person he had drawn. Sirius swallowed thickly, he wasn’t insecure about many things, but he had never shown his art to anyone. “You’ve captured him perfectly.” 

“Who?” Remus asked, now intrigued and leaning over to see the drawing as well. 

“You,” you said as you tilted the sketchbook over so he could see it as well. Remus’ eyes opened wide with surprise as he saw himself sketched out in the notebook. 

When Sirius said he was “practising” his expressions, he really meant it, he had sketched out a perfect version of Remus’ side profile as he read a book, his brow just slightly furrowed as he was looking at a particularly intriguing section of the detective novel he’d been reading earlier. “You were… you were drawing me?” he stuttered, as his eyes widened and he drew in a sharp breath. 

“You mind?” Sirius asked as he tilted his head slightly. 

Remus wasn’t sure how to respond. Did he mind? No, if anything he was flattered, barely holding the blush starting to creep up his cheeks, he never thought he’d be the subject of one of Sirius’ drawings, let alone the many he had already been of and would be in the future.  “No,” he said honestly. “I just didn’t realise.” 

“You were very absorbed in your book,” Sirius said with a shrug. “Wasn’t even being careful about it.” 

You turned to Sirius then, he’s drawn him before, you thought, it was in the way the lines were so sure, confident as if he knew exactly what he was doing and had to focus solely on his expression. But it made so much sense, they were roommates after all. You then wondered if he had drawn you too, was it possible that you too had been so engrossed in yourself that you hadn’t noticed? 

The drawing of Remus was beautiful, it truly reflected him in every way, but Remus had never seen himself as beautiful as he had been plastered on the sketch. He was truly stunning in Sirius’ gaze, and if that was what he looked like to you, then perhaps it too made sense when you called him beautiful. You’d even called him beautiful when you’d first seen the drawing. Well, was that him or was it Sirius’ talent that you had been praising? He chose to think a little bit was because of him.  

“Sirius it’s incredible,” you repeated as you gazed at the drawing again. “I expected you to be good but–” 

“I’m always good with my hands,” he said as he threw a wink your way and you almost pushed him off the bed entirely. You did not need dirty thoughts added. 

“My love you wound me,” he said dramatically as he let himself fall back onto Remus’ lap.  Remus had reacted just fast enough to pull the sketchbook up, Sirius looked at him with a cheeky little smile. “Moony, you’re awfully comfortable,” he teased. The two of you praising his art had gotten him in a dreadfully good mood. 

His two favourite people on earth had seen his drawing and they had both thought it was beautiful. Or at least been kind enough to pretend it was, he was pretty sure the two of you were being honest with him, though. He wasn’t always good at seeing through lies, but he was good when it mattered. 

Wait– his two favourite people in the world? 

Remus rolled his eyes as he looked down on Sirius, trying not to think of how beautiful he looked and instead of how annoying he was by taking up his personal space so brazenly. Problem was, even that he found endearing. The urge to brush his fingers through his perfectly chiselled nose was almost mortifying. 

Sirius wasn’t in a much better position either, he had focused so much on his drawing that he had forgotten he had actual Remus Lupin –who for some reason he now considered insanely attractive– looking at him like he was the only person in the room. They locked eyes for a moment and Sirius swallowed. 

You looked at the scene curiously and he seemed not to mind much the kind of attention Rem was providing him with, you already knew he loved being coddled. Sirius had always been touchy and cuddly, searching for the lack of affection his parents had given him wherever he could find it, but he and Remus had gotten a lot closer –physically at least– since you all started doing the pack cuddling thing this month. And while you found it endearing, that Sirius could find love not only with you but elsewhere as well in case you weren’t around to help him out, there was something about the way they were looking at each other in that particular moment that made you do a double take, or at least to stare a little closely. Have you missed something? That look was an awful lot like–

Suddenly there was a stir on the bed and the sketchbook fell from Remus’ hands. When he picked it up, the page had changed, and when he looked at it, he couldn’t actually hide the blush that crept up his cheeks, “Sirius Black!” he said in an admonishing tone. 

Sirius, who had turned his gaze to you and was pulling onto your leg, turned his head quickly and gasped when he saw the drawing Remus was looking at, “Close it, close it!” 

Remus did as told in an instant, swallowing thickly as he remembered the drawing. Sirius now was blushing as well. “What– what was that?” You asked with a small frown, completely changing your train of thought, now focusing solely on the sketchbook.

“Nothing,” Remus said simply. 

“Don’t worry about it, Starshine,” Sirius said, but that was not his cool and controlled voice. You could see how nervous he was, whatever it was that Remus had seen in the sketchbook, he clearly did not want you to see it too, which obviously made you want to see it even more. Meanwhile, Remus was struggling not to think of the drawing now burned into his brain. 

You scrutinised their reactions, the only sound in the room the gentle rustle of the fabric as you shifted on the bed. Your gaze darted between them, before deciding to focus on the latter. “Sirius?” He swallowed. 

“You don’t want to see it, trust me,” Remus said as coolly as he could, but you could clearly see through his bullshit. 

“Your lies only make me more curious.” 

“I’ll show it to you later.” 

“How will I know it’s the same?”

“Because you trust me?” Sirius responded with a shrug. 

“Would you show it to me later?” You asked as you turned to Remus. 

He cleared his throat, he really did not need to think of the drawing again. “Yes,” he lied. 

“Okay fine,” you responded, and laid back for a second, Remus had the sketchbook still in his hands.

Sirius was looking at you attentively, not sure how you had let the subject go so easily when you jumped forward to try and grab the notebook from Remus’ hands. But Remus’ reflexes had always been faster and he moved the book out of the way as you crashed against him and caused him to fall back on the bed with you on top. You, being deterred not even a little bit, pulled your hand forward to try and grab it again when Sirius grabbed you by the waist firmly and held you from moving forward again. 

Remus, meanwhile was trying not to think of the image, and now also your body pressed against him, and you, being so engrossed in your task, didn’t quite realise exactly what you were doing. 

“Starshine please, I promise I’ll show it to you later,” Sirius pleaded as he held you back from reaching towards Remus’ long outstretched hand. 

“Why not now?” you asked as you continued trying to move. 

“Because!” he said. “You’re all over Moony, come on!” he added as he tried to pull you back. 

You looked down, he was right, you were all over Remus, more specifically, all over the broad chest you had been thinking about all night, and you couldn’t help but think how firm it felt underneath you. But you still wanted to know. 

“What was it?” you asked, squirming as you tried to get out of Sirius’ grasp. 

“Anatomy study.” 

Finally, you stilled. Looking up to see how red Remus’ cheeks had gotten, and how he swallowed thickly after Sirius’ words. Now actually noticing how close you were to Remus and the compromising position your legs had been in, and the way they had entangled onto Remus’ and how long you had been there and how Sirius had been trying to pull you back by the waist and how flustered the two boys looked and suddenly it dawned on you. 

You scattered back in an instant, falling on Sirius’ lap as you did, he stilled you easily since his hands were still on your waist and you turned to him, your heart hammering on your chest. The thoughts currently roaming in your head weren’t making this entire ordeal any easier for you. 

“Do you mean-” you swallowed. “That kind of anatomy study?” 

Sirius sighed and looked at the side, before turning his gaze back to you. Remus was looking at the entire situation, at the position both you and Sirius had ended up in trying not to feel things, let alone imagine other ones. 

“Yes,” Sirius answered, giving you a look. “You really want to see?” he asked. He was sure what your answer could be, that didn’t stop Remus from sending him a reproachful look, as if telling him what a terrible idea that was. 

And if it had been any other day, you might have said yes. But after the potion, whatever and whoever Sirius had drawn, would probably be a terrible idea to look at, you already had enough heated thoughts as it was. Only made worse by the fact that you were now sitting on his lap and had been right over Remus earlier. Godric! How much longer for you to stop sexualizing your best friend? 

A lump formed in your throat and shook your head. “Show me a different day,” you said as you stared at him. Sirius nodded as he looked at you and you missed the way Remus let out a relieved breath. “Let’s uh– Let’s sleep now.” 

Neither of the boys argued, Remus placed the sketchbook on his night table and waved his wand to turn the lights off. You instantly turned into a fox and walked over to the end of the bed to try and clear your thoughts. Sirius extended his hand to pull you closer but ended up holding back and turning into a Padfoot instead. Then he walked closer to you and picked up Vixen carefully with his snout. 

You stilled as he did and allowed him to drop you over Remus’ chest, as you accommodated you realised Remus’ heartbeat was beating abnormally fast and you couldn’t help but think of the picture again. What the hell had Sirius drawn to garner such a reaction? You shook your head then, don’t need to know, don’t need to know!

Sirius was getting comfortable on the side by now, and he placed his snout over Remus’ shoulder, close to Vixen’s, and closed his eyes. But even if the three of you had your eyes closed, and even if the three of you were really trying to fall asleep, you could not stop thinking about the fact that you were sleeping on Remus’ chest. He couldn’t stop thinking about the drawing he’d seen and Sirius could not stop thinking how adorable Remus had looked with the blush creeping up his cheek, let alone the compromising position you had both ended up in earlier. And it stayed like that, all of you attempting to calm your breaths, until at least half an hour later when one by one, you started to fall asleep. 

The next day had gone pretty fast, you’d woken up and walked back to your room to get changed into your flying gear, meeting Sirius and James just outside of the common room for the last flight of the year, since everyone would be packing their bags for home the following day. Well, everyone except for Remus who’d go back home until after Christmas. 

After flying you had taken the last few classes of the year, which consisted of some teachers actually trying to teach, some final project presentations and some others of teachers who just allowed everyone to do whatever they wanted during the class time. On charms, you spent almost the entire class playing Wizards’ chess with Marlene and Mary while James and Sirius spent the class writing his essays for potions. Both using yours and Remus’ as a guide. 

On potions Slughorn had you present the essays and he congratulated everyone, even Sirius, got a slightly higher mark on that one than Severus, whom you’d heard had spent weeks working on, you couldn’t stop the slight mocking giggle that escaped your lips when he announced the grades. That was until you got yours and it was lower than Sirius’, who just shrugged awkwardly and gave you an apologetic smile. 

Sure, your head had been a little muddled while you wrote it (which was at some point after the friendly game with Neil and Nox) but you still thought your argument had been solid, even if Slughorn said that you didn’t have enough sources to back it up. 

“But where did you even get your sources? You literally used my essay as a base!” you asked Sirius as you read over his. 

He just shrugged, “made them up,” he said honestly and proceeded to show you the page where he had added them, which contained all sorts of ridiculous names like David Bowie, Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Steve Walsh, Brad Delp and even some surreal ones like Moonsmus Lup and Vixenia Starr.

“Oh, so you even gave us credit,” you said as you hovered your index over the ridiculous names he’d invented based on your nicknames. “How on earth did he buy that?” 

“Mom and dad used to have pretty rare books in the library,” he explained, “books rarely available to the general public…” 

You nodded as you pursed your lip. Half surprised, half admired by his boldness, “Next time I’ll add some myself.” 

“The weirdest the names, the more he loves it.”  

Herbology had gone by like charms, Mr. Folly was talking about properties of some curative flowers with the students who were interested in them –and who wanted to go for either medical or herboreal careers– and allowed the rest to do their thing. You had spent the time talking to Beth and Tom, planning to get together in London after the trip on the train to get some gifts for your friends. 

Remus had excused himself before the class was over and walked over to Pomfrey who took him straight to the shack. You had all agreed that you’d meet him there a little before 6 pm which was the estimated time for the moon to appear that night. 

After changing into the same clothes you had been wearing the previous night, just for good measure and according to Remus’ instructions, he said it would be for the best, to “maximize the smell of the pack” but also –and secretly– for his very own enjoyment. Not that it didn’t also translate to your and Sirius’ enjoyment, the three of you rather liked the way you smelled when your scents were all combined with each other. From Sirius always smelling slightly like leather, added to the light notes of your perfume that lingered on each other, all the way to the faint smell of Remus’ aftershave potion and the ever-present smell of chocolate that seemed to surround him. It was certainly an interesting mix, but one you had all grown to love.

“You ready?” Sirius asked while Wormtail sprinted towards the Whomping Willow, they had told you that the tree had a secret branch that if you pressed it right, it would calm him enough to let you through, and Wormtail was currently working on making it happen. 

You nodded in response, paying close attention to the way Wormtail walked and how after a small flick of his tiny rat-like hands, the Willow stilled. You looked marvelled at the sight of the usually bellic tree looking so serene. You let out a small scoff.

“What is it?” James asked. 

You pointed at the tree, “A trick like that would have saved my Nimbus.” 

“But we wouldn’t have ended up snogging under it,” Sirius said with a sneaky little smirk as he passed his hand over your shoulders. 

“Is that why you were late after the race?” James asked with a gasp. “We were all mad worried!” 

“We also had some things to discuss,” you said with a small shrug, “I thought Sirius hated me.” 

James genuinely laughed at that, “He was bIoody smitten!” 

“Yeah, I guess I should have seen the signs…” you replied as you turned to your boyfriend, “It was in those pretty puppy eyes of his.” 

He pulled his tongue out and then started running towards the tree, you smiled and followed shortly behind. James, on the other hand, lagged back just for a moment, noting how you chased behind Sirius with a bright smile plastered on your face, filled with only blithe thoughts as you walked towards the wolf’s den; as if you weren’t even slightly worried for the outcome of the night. 

And you really weren’t, as far-fetched as it was, you thought Peter’s idea of using scents to trick Moony into not wanting to eat you, made sense. You had been sneaking into the restricted section to look up some more werewolf-related tomes, sometimes with Sirius and sometimes by yourself, all in the hopes that you’d find something to back your claim up –and rip some more of those murder pages off of them– and even though you hadn’t found something that confirmed it, you had found some text that talked about how heavily werewolves leaned onto scents to hunt and track humans down. 

You had also taken some other “muggle animals” from the muggle studies section of the library and read about the normal wolves, and while you hadn’t found any stance in which they did something similar to what you had planned, there were some stances in which packs of wolves adopted stray and small dogs and raised them as their own. Now Vixen wasn’t either a stray, nor a dog, but she was canine, so that must atone for something, right? Either way, you had built a pretty strong case for Peter’s theory in your head, and while you couldn’t actually ask a teacher about it, you were about to do something that Lily had taught you was “the scientific method” in muggle terms. It was simple, you got a theory, and you tested it out to see if it would work. Now, according to Lily, the testing was in a controlled setting with proper security, your security would be Prongs, Padfoot and how fast you could move as Vixen, but you were still optimistic enough to go through with it. It had to work, otherwise, things would only get harder.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow  @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer @itsthequackshire @maqqiekwon @desikudisworld @pastelorangeskies @barking4you @profoundpidgeon @nagareboshi-chiyo @x4ramyluv

Leave a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

A/N: Hey everyone? How is it going? Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's one of the fluffiest we've gotten in a while hehe You guys were asking for a new Q&A so I'm working on it at the moment, send all the questions you may want to be added here, or directly on asks. Love, Lils xx

Read more Marauders Fiction

[sstardustt3]

“Sorry you have reached a number that is disconnected or is no longer in service.” -falsettos fanfic

Authors note- uhhh this is kinda trashy because I made it in like 15 minutes without editing

Word count- 1.149k

Warnings- angst, canonical character death, Marvin needs a therapist that isn’t Mendel, post act 2, implied character death, Marvin’s giddy seizures references, suicidal thoughts, seriously someone get him a psychiatrist

Summary- Marvin thinks about him and whizzer, he comes to the realization that his memory of whizzer is fading.

-requests for fics and hcs are always welcome-

.

.

.

It had been two months.

Or exactly 1460 hours since whizzer had left permanently. 840 hours since he saw his lover lowered into the ground, buried underneath hot soil. It was sunny that day, the sun beamed down on the back of his neck causing sweat to form and trickle onto the inside part of the collar of the white button up.

Marvin hated the Sun, he always preferred the rain. Cold wet rain made him feel less alone, the pitter patter as the rain hit the ground or the window brung him comfort. The sun didn’t. But whizzer liked the sun; he liked both actually, but above all weather conditions he loved the sun. He remembered asking him about it once, said something about how the heat from it gave him a dopamine rush. He remembered whizzer sounding-

His thought ended there. He searched for words to describe how he sounded on that day, but he could barely do it. The sound of his voice was faint like a memory from when your three. Marvin stood still. Completely frozen as he tried desperately to remember.

“C’mon…c’mon…”

Whizzer, whizzer, whizzer, whizzer.

He searched his mind desperately for every memory he and whizzer had to remember what he sounded like. It hadn’t been that long had it? No no, whizzer wasn’t gone. Whizzer was still here in memory, he had to remember or else whizzer would be gone. He would’ve lost whizzer forever. There would be no salvation for it.

Marvin’s body started to attempt to move, but he couldn’t. In fact, when he tried to, he immediately lost his balance and almost fell if it wasn’t for the wall. He’d been like this for a while, he’d been used to the muscle atrophy at this point. It had been happening even before whizzer got hospitalized. He did what he normally did, dragged his foot, forced himself to move desperately the tingling sensation and numbness.

He slumped to the ground as soon as he reached the small wooden table that his phone sat. He reached up, his hand searching for the familiar shape and started to push it off. He caught it as it feel and he quickly dialed.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

He held the receiver up to his ear. His breath heavy with anticipation as it rang. It was only maybe 15 seconds but it felt like 15 years of waiting. 15 years of waiting for whizzer to answer, for him to ask Marvin howworks going, marvin would answer that he’s working late, that he’d be home soon. Marvin would be nice, say that he’d bring takeout on his way home. Whizzer would say okay. He’d come home to see whizzer. Everything would be alright that way.

Finally the ringing ended and Marvin gripped the reciver like a frightened hold with a knife.

“Hello this is whizzer brown, I’m out right now. Call back later, unless I’m ignoring you. In that case fuck off.”

The line went dead and Marvin called back again.

“Hello this is whizzer brown, I’m out right now. Call back later, unless I’m ignoring you. In that case fuck off.”

And again, and again, and again. He started laughing. It was kinda like whizzer was ignoring him huh? Like he was two years back when they’d first broken up. Marvin remember a couple days after the incident he had called whizzer seven times, one time sober where he left him harsh words. Called him a money hungry slut that couldn’t keep his legs shut that just leeched off of rich men. The other times he was drunk, completely hammered. Begging, apologizing like a pathetic loser. Whizzer only answered once. With the help of the voicemail he remembered the exact tone and cadence of his voice.

“Marvin.”

He paused and Marvin began his drunken apologies, whizzer cut him off after a sentence though.

“Marvin, lose my number. Never call me again or else I’m changing it.”

He sounded tired, angry, a little bit pained too. The line went dead after that and as much as Marvin was pissed that day that whizzer dared had the nerve to ignore, he ultimately obliged. He didn’t call him or see him until two years later.

Marvin laughed at the memory. Not that it was funny in any capacity, but the idea whizzer was just ignoring him again. That if he keeps pestering whizzers line he’d answer, cuss him out, yell obscenities at him. He wanted nothing more than for him to do that actually. He wanted to hear whizzer again, he wanted to touch and feel his hair, his skin. He wanted to talk to him. This was the closest he could get. So he dialed again, and again, and again.

For the first time in months he felt happy it was Like whizzer was still here, like whizzer was going to walk though their apartment door and kiss him. Everything of whizzer’s was still here after all. His cameras, his clothes, his shoes, his film, his baseball bat, his mitt, his racket. all of it. Whizzers stuff was in their room waiting for him. Whizzers line was still active, so eventually he’d answer and complain about Marvin blowing up his phone, he’d come home and tear Marvin a new one about not taking care of himself and his disgusting choice of clothes. Whizzers still here.

He dialed his number again. The numbers on it started to become more faded than the rest, Marvin didn’t know how long he’d been at this. Marvin had began to loose the concept of time outside of his work hours entirely actually. He held the receiver up to his ear again, waiting for the next hit of relief at whizzers voice as if it was a drug. But was instead swindled and scammed, being met with the robotic tone of a woman.

“Sorry you have reached a number that is disconnected or is no longer in service.”

He threw the reciver down to the floor, the line making the rest of the phone follow. It was most likely broken but Marvin didn’t care.

Whizzer was gone. Marvin couldn’t hear whizzers voice anymore. Marvin wouldn’t ever see whizzer again, Marvin wouldn’t see his lover come home, his lover wouldn’t take photos of him without him looking, he wouldn’t tear into him anymore for his poor choice of clothing and style, they wouldn’t play raquetball anymore, whizzers camera would collect dust, so would his film, whizzer wouldn’t play and loose against Jason, whizzer wouldn’t help Jason practice for baseball.

Whizzer brown was gone, he wasn’t coming back.

Marvin laughed and laughed and laughed. He writhed and clutched his stomach tightly as he curled into a ball. Laughs eventually turned into choked up sobs.

Whizzer brown was officially gone, there was no salvation or saving grace. Marvin had gotten one of his worse fears to come to fruition. At least Marvin would reunite with him soon enough, apologize for everything. He was bound to see his lover once more, kiss him, hold him, talk with him. eat with him, swallow him whole. Weather it be illness or the ocean, he’ll see whizzer once more.

[changisworld]

For changbin: you decide to start your fitness journey and call your experienced boyfriend to help you training, but apparently he has other plans (i was totally inspired by the skz yoga class, that man fixing hyunjin's position got me to places lol)

OMG what a good ask for me to respond to for my FIRST EVER BINNIE FIC!! I hope you enjoy <3

Word count:2.319

Obvious MDNI,18+ smut warnings under the cut

Any reblogs & comments are deeply appreciated!

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

PSA FOR ANY ASKS/REQUESTS: i WILL get around to posting everyone's requests, I'm sorry if it takes a bit of time but whatever you request i'll get around to posting it! IM ALSO MAKING AN ANON LIST!! just send me anything & tell me what emoji you wanna be!

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS; slightly jealous binnie, coke can cock binnie, confident reader, pet names such as pretty,jagi, baby, public sex, creampie, quickie, slight teasing

You have finally decided to join the gym after saying it was your new years revolution for thee longest time & who better to help with your journey than your long term boyfriend, Changbin!

You put on a pair of sport leggings & a matching sports bra & you put Changbins shirt over it. You admire how you look in the mirror, trying to make sure you look as good as you can without looking like you're putting in effort & then you put on the gym shoes Changbin bought for you to encourage you to go to the gym & you then decide to walk to the gym & meet Changbin there. Since its 1am on a tuesday it's a safe & quick 15 minute walk to the gym.

You walk into the changing room & lock your bag off & you take off the baggy shirt you're wearing & shut the locker, putting the key around your wrist.

You step into the gym & unsurprisingly it's completely empty, other for a random guy & of course, Changbin himself.

You walk over to Changbin who is currently on his phone & taking a drink, of course sitting on the edge of the bench presss.

"Hey Binnie!" you say, waving your hand in front of his phone to get his attention over his music playing in his headphones. "Oh hey y/n! when did you get that set? you look so good" he says smirking at you as you giggle & roll your eyes as he stands up & gives you a quick hug. "I'm happy you're here jagi, trust me you'll loooove the gym once i teach you!" He says, nothing but enthusiasm in his voice. "Yeah well i better hope so seeing since i want to look a bit better & fit for summer" you say, looking at the huge mirror that stretches from one end of the gym all the way to the other. "Your body is already perfect y/n, the gym can just be a healthy hobby for you! Anyways, lets start with some stretches." He says, taking a hold of your wrist & guides you over to the matted open area.

"Okay so to start off, lets sit on the ground & put your legs straight out in front of you & set your hands out as far as you can." Changbin says, already getting into position. You copy him & you do what he asks as he gets up & pushes your back slightly to get that extra stretch. You hold it for 30 seconds before he helps you stand back up.

"Do i really need to stretch? my back is still pretty stretched out along with my legs from when you had my feet up past my head earlier when you had folded me in half, probably not the only thing that's still a bit stetched still hm?" you flirt with him, he playfully hits your shoulder. "yaaah! not.. here, i won't be able to handle it" he whispers back, trailing his fingers along your stomach as he kisses the sweet spot behind you ears. You let out a small hum then pull away. "I was being serious! but fine, what should i do now?" You ask, putting your arms above your head & just stretching normally, scrunching your eyes together, Changbin licks his lips subconsciously. "ehhh, lets have you just simply touch your toes hm? try hold it." he says, coming up behind you to help you with keeping you as folded as possible but as he is doing this, his covered cock is now against your ass & your cheeks blush.

You hold it, quite liking the burn in the back of your legs but liking the feeling of binnie pressed against your ass more. You let out a small huff & a second later you're pulled up abruptly by Changbins calloused hands around your waist. "You said 30 seconds didn't you?" you ask, slightly confused. "yeah but that guy over there kept staring at you & i didn't appreciate it." He says, glancing over at the guy who was in the gym when you arrived is now slightly closer, 'on his phone'. "ooo my jealous baby" you smile at him, kissing his cheek & scratching under his chin like a catplayfully. "anyways, let's just go on the treadmill or something for now hm?" you ask, holding his hand in your & nods, still got a bit of a frown on his face.

~TIME SKIP~

It's been an hour & you & changbin have been on multiple areas, he helped you get used to a lot of leg strength machines just to show you how they worked but mainly helped you train arms. The other guy has since now left & its just you two left in the gym. "Okay so to finish up, why not we do some squats hm? it helps arms & obviously your glutes too. I'll help your form so don't worry jagi." He says, picking up two 20lb weights & giving them to you. You sigh loudly as you take them & Changbin helps you get into position. You squat down, looking into the same mirror as earlier & hold it, changbin holding your hips. "your ass looks good like this, i could get used to helping you" he says, giving it a playful slap. You wince at the slap & drop the weights before standing up right. "stop the teasing binnie! I need to take this seriously if i want results." you giggle back before grabbing his hands & putting them back on your waist as you pick up the weights again & continuing.

"y/n you need to put your legs slightly further apart." He says & you try to slightly split them, still in your position. "wait, a little bit less jagi, wait i'ma try something" He says & before you get to respond, you see changbin lying down & starting to slide underneath your legs. "They should be as far apart as how wide the bottom of my ribs are, mkay? I know you know that much so try think about it that way." You giggle as you look down & see his cute, pretty smile & face looking up at you. You nod as you breathe through your mouth & he starts so slide back out from underneath you but he notices something... a small wet spot right where your crotch is. "jagi, drop the weights for a second." You don't need to think twice since your arms are burning along with your legs at this point, dropping them to the sides.

You stand up as changbin finishes sliding out from under you & is behind you again & he wraps his huge arms around your chest & waist as he kisses your neck back. He nibbles your earlobe & whispers; "meet me in the changing rooms in a minute, cameras are watching us & they might come find us if we leave at the same time" He kisses your cheek before leaving, leaving you excited & also confused.

You put the weights away & try look busy for a few minutes before you head into the boys changing rooms & you are immediately ambushed by changbins lips. You moan into it with surprise before he leans you against the wall, large hand resting on it right next to your head as he has the other hand loosely wrapped around your neck. "Wheres this suddenly came from hm? Couldn't wait until we got home, no?" You tease, your own hand coming own to play with his sweatpants drawstrings. " suddenly? Hope you know you have a literal wet patch on your leggings baby, you sure you weren't just waiting for me to do this hm?" he teases back, fingers from your neck trailing under your sports bra to begin pinching your nipples, you whine in response. "Well how can you expect me to not be wet when your hands were basically touching me more than my own clothes hmm? grinding against me?" You say, pawing his joggers & boxers down just enough to free his cock.

You kiss his lips again before slouching down to your knees & taking a hold of his thick dick in your hand, fingers just barely wrapping fully around it. You begin kitten licking the tip & along the sides, paying extra attention to the sweet spot right under the bottom of his tip, he lets out a low groan in response. "Jagi please, don't tease.. Can i just put it in you? i'm desperate baby" he whines, thrusting his dick in your hands, tip hitting your tongue & lips. "I would say no & suck your soul out but my jaw is still sore from earlier when you fucked my face." you smirk up at hiss blushed cheeks & damp sweaty hair as you stand up & he helps pull your leggings just below your ass as your face is pressed against the wall.

"your ass is so perfect gorgeous, to die for." changbin hums, giving it a light smack & caress. "you sure you can take it baby hm? want me to open you with my tongue or something first? you know i'm big." He asks in a sweet tone as his fingers are spreading your folds, teasing you further. You whine & squirm at the contact as he plays with your pussy open, trying to get more contact. "I can take it Bin' i should be able to since you fucked me so good earlier, please put it in" you whine, moving your head so you can make eye contact with him. He nods as he grabs his cock again & pumps it twice before lining it up at your entrance & then pushes just the tip in, you let out a breathy gasp.

"H-holy fuck.. s-so big oh my" you whimper out, feeling his heavy tip splitting you open.

"Told you baby, i'm gonna push in more now mkay?" he asks as he leans & kisses your shoulder as he starts paving his way into your velvet walls, him holding his breath subconsciously as you let out a long whine at the feeling, eyes scrunched together as you finally feel his balls hit the bottom of your cunt.

"so wet for me baby, letting me into you like this, so good for me hunny, can i move now hmm?" he asks in a higher pitched voice, stroking your hair as he does so. "yes.. j-just move.. p-please Binnie please" you reply, fingers trying to dig into the walls with how much you're trying to grip the walls. He hums before letting go of your hair & starts a slow but strong stroke movement. You start letting out raspy whines as you hear skin clapping around the room as his cock quite literally splits you in half.

"F-f-uck Bi-binnie already gon' cum, holy shi" you moan, clenching around his cock unintentionally. Changbin lets out a satisfied whine as his hand slithers down to start rubbing your clit which makes you start squirming even more, moans getting louder. Changbin smacks your pussy lightly "Shhh we need to be quiet baby mkay? we are in a gym remember." he whispers in your ears as your eyes roll to the back of your head, being reduced to a melted pile against the wall he's fucking you into.

His hand resumes its movement on your clit as you cum around his dick, walls not being able to clench too much due to the genuine thickness of his cock in you. "good girl, cumming around me like this, so hot for me." He gives you a moment rest from the abuse on your clit before he starts resuming his movements, making you thrash but it's no use as he wraps his hand in your hair as he lifts you so you're now positioned back to chest as his thick, muscly arm wraps around your waist & stomach as he continues pounding your now red & swollen cunt.

His hips start to stutter & you know he's close but you're in too much of your own world to propely mention it. "Bin' s-so f-ffull.. fuck" you say but comes out as a raspy whisper at this point due to the amount of moaning you've been letting through your lips, your voice is now starting to leave. "awk yeah? so full in you hm? why not you have a better feel?" he asks as he grabs you hand & presses it into your own lower tummy & you let out an even bigger groan at feeling his dick quite literally fucking into you.

You throw your head back into his shoulder as you feel it, moving the angle of your head just enough so you can reach changbins lips & you kiss him full of tongue as you feel his hot release painting your walls as his hips stutter. His eyebrows furrow as he lets out a high pitched groan into your lips, hair stuck to his face.

You break the kiss to let you both catch your breath back. " that's definitely in one of the top 3 best quickies we've ever had & definitely the hotttest, i love you pretty pretty." he says to you in deep breaths, smiling at you as you lean your arms against the wall again. You go to reply when someone knocks on the changing room door... it is an employee. You both shoot a glance at eachother with wide eyes, trying not to laugh, You mouth the words 'I love you too & i agree' & you go to hide in one of the cubicles as changbin quickly pulls his sweatpants back up before unlocking the changing room door. "uh yeah? anything wrong?" he asks through the door, voice tinged with embarrassment.

[exhuastedpigeon]

Buddie Hiatus Fic Recs - Month 4 August 16 - Sept 15

I think is my favourite rec list for this little project so far. It has some of my all time favourite Buddie fics on it, fics that I've read over and over again because they just bring me so much joy.

Previous lists linked at the bottom!

0-5k

here (in your arms) by devirnis / @devirnis Explicit | 2.3k I have had THE WORST day. When I finally get home, I’m going to pass out and sleep like a rock, and then I want to wake up with you inside me.

the art of peeling mandarins for the one you love by oklahoma / @sunshinediaz Teen | 3.9k Buck asks Eddie to marry him in the kitchen, of all places.

5k-10k

but i've got my teeth in you by oklahoma / @sunshinediazTeen | 5.5k bad things happen bingo—tooth knocked out

you're the cream in my coffee by 42hrb Explicit | 8.6k Buddie coffee shop AU where everything is different, but they’re still idiots in love

wood you be mine? by MonsterRae1 / @monsterrae1 Mature | 9k the Lumberjack Buck fic.

10k-20k

With Great Power Comes Great Pining by Princessfbi / @princessfbi Teen | 10.4k It was the lightning strike. That had to be it. It was the only logical conclusion. Though, when it comes to being able to suddenly read people’s minds, Buck supposed there wasn’t a whole lot of logic involved.

endless numbered days by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Gen | 13.1k When a big event in the lives of the members of the 118 falls on the same weekend as Bobby's late son's birthday, Bobby finds himself reflecting on grief, fatherhood, and life after loss. 

The Scroll of Saint Barnabas by Amiril / @runawaymarbles Mature | 15k The day of the shooting, Eddie got stuck in a time loop. But that was three months ago. He's completely fine now.

Say Yes, and Figure It Out Afterwards by catwalksalone Explicit | 13.3k Buck and Eddie figure out a mutually beneficial way to deal with the first responder post-trauma cycle of up-horny-down.

Share the Joy by TalkNerdyToMe6 Teen | 14.2k After the lightning strike, Buck discovers he has more than just the ability to do long division in his head. Every time he touches Eddie, everything the other man is feeling moves through him like a wave of emotion, there and gone again. Buck can’t decide if that’s a blessing or a curse.

20k - 30k

light through the wave tips by bvckandeddie (zukkababey) / @bvckandeddie Explicit | 21.9k When Buck and Eddie planned a vacation with their kids over a year ago, they hadn’t exactly planned on bringing a seven-month-old baby along with them. Surely wrangling three kids can't be too much of a challenge—that is, if it weren't for Christopher's steadily worsening mood.

Cutting The Ties That Bind by kristen999 / @thekristen999 Mature | 34.4k Evan Buckley was a businessman, he had meetings and deadlines like everyone else. Sometimes he used intimation. While using the very same tactics he was trying to end while converting his family business into legitimate operations was a little hypocritical, it was the results that mattered.

Occasionally, he got threatened, but it was usually all hot air and ego. That all changed the day his breaks were tampered with. Enter Eddie Diaz, security specialist, who was not easily impressed by Buck’s expensive suits or financial conquests. That was okay. Buck enjoyed a challenge.

30k +

family (portrait) by ProsperDemeter / @prosperdemeter2 Teen | 45.1k realizing that the family that you need has been beside you all along.

like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck Explicit | 51.1k evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Teen | 79.8 Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica

what a heart can do by bvckandeddie (zukkababey) / @bvckandeddie Teen | 85.5k In which Buck becomes the guardian of the daughter he never knew he had. Together, they discover what happiness truly means to them.

Month 1 (May 15 - June 15) Month 2 (June 16 - July 15) Month 3 (July 16 - August 15)

[osarina]

I CAME SCREAMING AND RUNNING WHEN I HEARD YANDERE DAZAI OMLL HOW DO YOU PERSONALLY SEE YAN!DAZAI??? cause theres so many ways to characterize him if he becomes Yandere especially if you compare and contrast his PM and ADA self

... here we go. yanzai my beloved - i dont think u guys understand how insane i am over him. anyway, i'm not making this one as long as i planned to because (surprise) i've planned out a two-part fic for this that i want to write when i'm done with civilian!dazai, and i dont want to spoil it. hehe.

but. in general, i think even non-yanzai would be veryyyyy possessive over his lover. yanzai is on an entirely different level though - and even WITHIN yanzai, i think pm yanzai and ada yanzai are entirely different monsters and i mean that so literally. but first, in general, possessive, very manipulative. yanzai has likely found his reason to live in his lover and he's NAWT about to let that go.

yanzai in general would tend to lead toward manipulation through guilt and isolation, i think. i don’t think any version of yanzai would ever get violent with his partner and i stay heavy on that belief. he’s got more of a tendency to treat you like you’re something fragile that could break at any given moment.

also i'm going to split pmzai into two - canon pmzai (ages 15-18) and then pmzai in an au where he never left the pm. so the order i'm gonna talk about is canon pmzai, canon adazai (as a direct follow up to canon pmzai), and then im gonna talk about pmzai au where he never left the pm.

for the purposes of this, assume that reader joined the pm when they were young

canon pmzai

so first i want to talk about how it probably starts, because i could sooooo very much see this starting while he & his lover are young. since this is canon, i imagine they meet at around 15/16 like i have dazai & pmreader meeting. dazai's clearly a lot more unstable during his early pm years and i think his obsession with his lover could start with something really minimal tbh. maybe they shoot an offhand compliment to him, or stop to pick something up that he dropped, and dazai is just so alone & isolated by mori atp that he just completely fixates on this person because they’re the first one to ever say/do something kind for him, as small as it may have been.

i think it would even start out harmless, spends a lot of time thinking about you, daydreaming. maybe he even steps in on missions for you - which he notably doesn't do for anyone because he doesn't want to do more work than he has to. but something would happen that eventually triggers the shift from harmless to a veryyyy dangerous obsession. maybe you got critically wounded on a mission, or maybe you start spending time with other people—whatever it is, it just flips a switch in him because he realizes that he is not about to loose you and he doesn't care what he has to do to make sure of it.

on this topic ^^ maybe this is a hot take, but i think canon pm yanzai would be entirely more dependent on his lover compared to adazai. adazai is still dependent, but not to the extent pmzai is. i know people hc him as hyper independent, which i also mostly hc for him, but i think if he's found someone that he's attached himself to like this, he’s young enough that he'll quickly become codependent on them, and that obviously scares him which makes him even more intense with his yan tendencies.

that being said, i still think that he would be careful to not alert you to any shift of his mentality. he'd be very hyperaware of keeping a good image in your eyes, so everything he does do is going to be behind the scenes. he'd probably work a lot with isolation and trying to make you as dependent on him as he is on you—justifies it by telling himself that it's not fair that he can't live without you but you can live without him LOL, won't be satisfied until he's inclined enough to believe that if he was gone you would be ruined without him (which comes into play when he leaves the mafia). he also makes sure that the missions you go on - if he even has you going on any - are all easy AND he makes sure he's overseeing them. probably phrases it as just a shift in command, assuming you were someone else's subordinate first, and you don't really have any reason to think anything of it.

i think he'd keep a really tight hold on his image up until the events of dark era, that whole ... week ? i assume its about a week, of everything going down with ango and oda just tosses him into a mental spiral and he'd probably let the mask slip a few times in front of you. i still don’t think it’s enough for you to really question anything—not until he leaves, that is.

now moving on to adazai - but first, the underground years:

we're gonna assume that you stay with the pm when he leaves. i think he'd spend a lot of his underground years honestly just keeping an eye on you from a distance. i think he'd be like very back and forth with how he feels, like a part of him is soooo satisfied that you're so broken about him leaving but then the other part of him has him wanting rip out his own throat for being the reason for your distress. he'd be rlly hyperaware of you "moving on" from him. his go to would be driving people away from you, like it was while he was with the pm but it's a lot harder now that he has to be a "ghost" so to speak, so i think he would target you yourself more often. and it would be little things, like whenever he sees you start talking to someone new, he'd leave little things around your apartment to remind you of him. maybe pictures you'd taken together, or small trinkets, anything to make you remember him and trigger you back into that spiral of missing him. BUT that being said, i think he would be very careful to ensure that you don't realize it's him leaving these things around, so he'd go through your apartment and look for stuff and would lay it out carefully to make you think that you just happened to leave it out.

i think over the course of his underground years, you start to realize that whatever you had with dazai was not healthy and how he acted with you was not healthy, and dazai does take note of this in his 💀 long hours observing you, which is why he’s so careful to keep up his new mask with you when he inevitably meets you again (read below).

OK now adazai

adazai is interesting. i went back and forth with this a lot, but i think adazai would really utilize his new job & demeanor as a tool to make you come back to him/fall for him again, especially if you’d started to put things together during the years he was gone. he frames his leaving it as how it was just something he had to do, look how much better he is now, he’s healed & hes good now, and he didn’t know what else to do because he knew his mental state wasn’t healthy back in the mafia. <- i think this would be important specifically because you would take note of how he acknowledges how incredibly possessive and weird he was with you, and in your mind, someone who acts like that probably wouldn’t see anything wrong with it, so the fact that he acknowledges it would be a green flag in your mind because maybe he has grown.

he also would probably hit you with a few guilt trips like he didn’t even know he meant enough to you to make you care about whether or not he was there. he’d be veryyyyyy sweet and honeyed with his apologies and pleas for forgiveness, and he’d be patient too. if you weren’t open to listening to him the first time you run into him, he’d orchestrate several other “run ins” over the next few weeks, whittle down your guard until he can finally claw his way back into your skin.

once that whole first stage of “winning you back” is over, dazai would quickly return to old habits although, however careful he was while in the pm to keep a good image in your eyes, he’s 100000x more careful now. because now it’s beyond just not letting you see the “demon prodigy”, he’s been advertising himself to you as a good, changed man and he has every intention of maintaining that image in your eyes. so yeah, he might be using access to cctv cameras to stalk your every move and yes, he’s slowly but surely driving everyone away from you, but in your eyes, he’s a detective who spends the saving people and that should never waver in anyway.

i think one notable difference is that adazai’s first big goal is going to be to drag you from the mafia, so while he is isolating you from people in the pm, i think he wouldn’t be so quick to isolate you from the members of the agency. in fact he would even encourage it to an extent - as long as they know their place 💀 - until he gets you to leave the pm, that is, then he might start to isolate you altogether again.

adazai likes to fashion himself as a bit of a savior to you i think. he saw how you spiraled without him, and came back to you, promising to never leave you again, apologizing for ever having have. gets in your head by making comments about how he didn’t even know you rlly cared about him like that.

^^ he’ll drag u from the dark shadow of the port mafia and tuck you right into his own shadow instead. and yeah, it might be just as dark, but at least he’ll be there to to make sure some light is peeking through cell bars of his “love”.

nowwww pmzai who never left the mafia.

i think i’ll keep this one short because imo i feel like this would just be canon pmzai without bothering to keep the whole front up in front of you. he doesn’t really care to hide his obsession over you - what are you going to do about it? run? he’s not going to let you do that, and he knows you don’t want to do that anyway. this pmzai is even more unstable than canon pmzai - i imagine he still lost oda, but then failed to even fulfill his last request by leaving the mafia and going to the light, so instead he focuses all of his energy onto the one person he has left: you.

forget missions. you’ll be lucky if he ever lets you leave the pm hq again. people die for looking at you the wrong way - whether it be pity, concern, or “envy” (because dazai is paranoid and thinks everyone is trying to stealing what’s his). sometimes you make comments about it to him, wanting to go on missions & talk to people again, and it triggers breakdowns in dazai that you can never tell if they’re real or fake - panic attacks over losing you like odasaku, begging you not to leave him too, etc. you don’t know if these are real, but he’s got you so tight around his finger already that the off chance that these aren’t manufactured to guilt you into dropping the subject is enough to make you give in.

[godidontevenknowwhat]

Warmth & Rest

So'lek x Sarentu!Reader (Romancing Pandora 2024 Day 1 - Somnophilia)

A/N: I should preface this by saying I've only ever written smut a whopping total of 1 time and I was 15 or 16 so as a soon to be 23 year old this will only be the 2nd smut I've ever written 😬

Tagging: @eywaite @neteyamsyawntu

Synopsis: So'lek is more injured than you both had first thought and the dapophet pods that you retrieved for him could only do so much. His injury, the approaching RDA and the enveloping darkness force you both to retreat to a mossy cave in order to rest before making the remaining trek to Resistance HQ. Sharing a sleeping space to preserve body heat seemed like a good idea to begin with but awakening and feeling the soft curves of your body pressed against his brings feelings forward that So'lek thought he wouldn't feel again.

Fic Includes: NSFW so MDNI, So'lek's sass, low-key corruption kink??, hints at touch starved So'lek, So'lek grinds against reader and touches her while she sleeps so if you don't like that then don't read this but honestly the somnophilia is very little of this fic, solo male stuff, Dom So'lek and Sub Reader, 1 count em 1 spank of the puss, fingering, squirting, p in v, 3.4k words

A group of Sarentus, frozen in time by sky people technology for 16 long years. A botched rescue mission resulting in a split group. A dislocated shoulder, now healing as a result of the dapophet pod so eagerly retrieved for him that he could still taste the acrid tang of on the back of his tongue. Darkness approaching and RDA around every corner. While this may not have been the worst day in his life it certainly wouldn’t make his top 10 list of best either. 

Although the trek to Resistance headquarters wasn’t necessarily a long one, So'lek's pounding head, the ache in his shoulder and the clumsy steps of the more tawtute than na’vi trailing behind him were making the trip seem uncommonly strenuous. 

“Maybe we should stop?” Your voice breaks through the silence, concerned at the occasional wince that cut through the air from So’lek’s lips when he was forced to move his previously dislocated shoulder. “The RDA.. and your arm, we should-”

“The RDA are exactly why we need to keep moving, we can not be caught off guard” His refusal to look at you while speaking caused irritation to bubble under your skin and the aggravated flick of his tail drew your eyes in. Watching as it moved, betraying his emotions, you silently wondered if at any point since you had ‘woken up’ your own tail made your feelings known so obviously. If it had flicked to attention at the frustrating man in front of you calling you ‘Sarentu’, if it had swayed behind you in a delicate swing when he broke his stoic image and promised to gift you with a new songcord. A sudden, harsh hiss of pain snapped you out of your daze and seeing So’lek gripping his shoulder made an uncontrollable huff of annoyance escape your lips.

“We must stop So’lek. You are in pain!” Instead of arguing or completely ignoring your concerns this time he paused, his ears seeming to twitch with each individual thought that ran through his head.

The sound of distant shooting made his decision for him and the deep hiss that ripped out of So’lek’s mouth made an unusual feeling burn in your belly. “Come, there is a place… a halfway point not far from here. We may rest there until it is light once again.” 

This ‘halfway point’ as So’lek had called it was no more than a deep cave filled with soft green moss that cushioned your every step and a few stray RDA issue containers that at one point may have some supplies but presently lay empty and useless.

“You may make yourself comfortable, Sarentu” His patronizing tone caused your ears to twitch back defensively and you itch to turn your back on him and retreat to the furthest part of the cave to get away from him but the look of pain on his face as he attempts to remove his modified RDA vest keeps your feet planted in place. Closing the gap between you both you reach for the straps yourself and begin to help him.

The feeling of your cool, soft fingers unintentionally dragging against his skin while you help remove his vest makes So’lek’s muscles tense and brings to the front of his mind that, although being covered by more fabric than himself, you were unused to the climate of the outside world. 

Feeling So’lek shift under your hands you looked up from his straps to find him already looking back at you. “Come, we will set up a place to rest in the moss. It will help to keep us warm while we wait for the light” All the softness of his sentiment is ripped away just as quickly as So’lek himself rips away from you and you watch as he removes the vest without struggle now that the straps are undone. “Quickly, Sarentu, we don’t want you to freeze after the effort of retrieving you.” 

You roll your eyes and scoff but join So’lek in the soft cushion of the flat circle of moss present in the middle of the cave. Laying down on your side you purposefully turn your back to him and try to get some rest all the while feeling So'lek’s gaze on your back.

Movement on his right causes So’lek to rouse from sleep and he immediately notices the pressure of your body against his along with the persistent shivers racking your body, your back is still facing him but your tail has betrayed your unconscious search for his warmth by curling around his thigh, the small tuft of hair on the end brushing against his abs at the top of his tewng.

The cave that housed you both was now completely dark apart from the slight bioluminescence of the undisturbed moss and the tanhi that were gently shimmering on both of your bodies. So’lek surmised that it had been, at the most, 3 hours, since you’d entered together and when he shifted to his side in order to better share his heat with you he was happy to feel no pull or pain from his previously injured shoulder.

Another shiver racks your body and before he can stop himself his hand makes its way to the skin of your hip where your demon chest covering had ridden up to expose your skin. He watches his hand moving in what feels like an out of body experience, thumb stroking the delicate glowing tanhi that dot your skin. 

Despite what you perceived earlier as irritation from him, the truth could not be further from what you thought. When the dreamwalker, Alma, came to So’lek and begged for his help with her mission to the RDA base he wasn’t expecting the abandoned Sarentu to even be there let alone for them to be alive. Then you, the last of the remaining Sarentu to wake… you looked at him with such curiosity, your tail flicking to attention when he spoke to you, he felt an undeniable urge to be close to you. It was the first time in many cycles that So’lek had felt this attraction to another, the last time being briefly before the battle of the Hallelujah mountains which had left him much like yourself.. without a clan to be a part of.

After only a few minutes of sharing his body heat with yours, So’lek feels your shivers stop and your body relaxes into his grip. Your tail makes content, sleepy little brushes against his abs and your breath huffs out with gentle purrs.

Content that you’re feeling a lot more comfortable now compared to when you accidentally woke him, So’lek allows his eyes to drift closed in an effort to fall asleep once more and get more rest before making the remaining trek to Resistance HQ. 

Silence surrounds you both and the cave is peaceful once more, his breathing begins to even out but before the sweet relief of sleep can wash over him, the combination of your tail’s insistent movement continuously brushing the band of his tewng and the feeling of the soft curve of your ass pressed so close to his cock makes it twitch to life with interest.

Beginning to remove himself from you, ashamed of his body’s depraved reaction to the little amount of contact between you, he’s stopped by a pitiful whimper at the loss of his heat and a firmer press of your body against his in your unconscious effort to make sure he stays close.

He really doesn’t mean to roll his hips into the plush flesh of your ass, doesn’t mean to press his hard cock against the print of your pussy through your uncomfortably rough RDA shorts. But the reward of your sweet little whimper makes him do it again and again until his tewng is painfully tight and all the friction against your pussy is causing a damp spot to darken your shorts.

Uncomfortable with the pressure of his tewng keeping his dick constricted, So’lek fights with himself for less than he’d like to admit before loosening the strings and holding back a groan as he takes a hold of his throbbing, flushed cock. Pre-cum beads heavily on his blushing purple tip and he knows that if he were to check there would be an embarrassing amount clinging to the inside of his tewng from the simple stimulation of humping against you like an animal.

Smoothing his rough palm over his sensitive head forces a hiss to escape his lips but the lubrication of his pre-cum gives his hand a glide over his cock as he begins to jerk his hand over his length, tightening his grip in a poor emulation of how tight he can picture your inexperienced pussy clenching on him would be.

So’lek reaches for you again, needing to feel some sort of contact between you before he lets himself cum. It’s been so long that after only a dozen strokes of his cock he can already feel his heavy balls drawing close to his body, begging to release his load. 

Pressing close to you once more, So’lek can now feel the damp outline of your puffy cunt against his bare cock. The thought of how sensitive you must be to get so worked up with so little contact makes him dizzy as he works his way between the soft grip of your thighs. 

So’lek’s hand clamps onto the bare skin of your hip too hard to recover from and when he hears your sleepy mumble asking him about what was going on he can feel the sting of embarrassment spreading through his body. He begs Eywa to grant him mercy, prays for you to fall asleep before you can realise what he’s done so he can withdraw himself and hide his shame but Eywa shows him no such forgiveness.

“So’lek..?” You call out, still trying to break through the haze of sleep that continues to cloud your mind.

“I’m sorry, Sarentu, I don’t know what possessed me” So’lek’s deep voice cut through the darkness, snapping you out of your half asleep daze and the feeling of his big, rough hand removing itself from your hip helped to solidify your consciousness further. The burn of where it once was making you instantly miss the feeling.

Your body aches with need, stimulated beyond anything you’d felt before and it hurts now that So’lek has stopped.

“So’lek..” The last time you’d felt this ache in your gut was during your early teen years when you’d developed a fleeting attraction to Teylan but even that didn’t produce the pulsing need coming from your damp cunt or the slick seeping through your shorts. “Please do not stop now… it is hurting”

So’lek huffs out a growl at your words, sounding as if he was experiencing pain when in reality it was the pure, unbridled desire that you ignited in him forcing the sound out. “And where does it hurt, little one?” His large hand suddenly cups your aching cunt through your shorts and you whimper at the feeling of the seam pressing harder into your swollen clit, desperately pitching your hips into his hand to make the feeling last. 

“There! So’lek please, do not torture me!” An embarrassed burn heats your face at the pathetic sound of your own voice but So’lek is only encouraged by how eager you are just feeling his palm against you.

“Mawey, Sarentu… Mawey” He brings his hand away slightly and swiftly brings it back to your cunt with a dull smack, the feeling and sound being dampened by your shorts. “I’ll make the hurt go away, do not worry” So’lek moves his hands back to your hips and grips them in his hands as he encourages you to roll onto your front, settling on his knees behind you and eagerly ripping your shorts down your thighs. The friction of them against the delicate skin forces a defiant hiss to escape you and in response, So’lek’s large, rough hand wraps around the base of your tail and gives it a harsh tug. 

A pathetic whine escapes you as So’lek’s forceful grip brings your back end up into a perfect arch and you are painfully aware that with your tail out of his way, So’lek is now being gifted as clear of a view of your most intimate part that he can achieve in the low glow of the mossy cave that houses you both.

“Ma’Sarentu…” He growls over the words as he witnesses you so incredibly flushed and wet just for him. 

The feeling of So’lek’s fingers parting your slit furthers your embarrassment but only serves to make your cunt pulse and clench under his intense gaze. “So’lek, p-please stop looking there-” 

He interrupts you with a deep chuckle and your hips subconsciously jolt back towards him looking for something to finally get rid of the ache.

“Why should I, Ma’Sarentu? It is mine to look at” You knees threaten to buckle at the possessiveness behind his words. In your life you’d been denied so many milestones and experiences that dot the life of a normal Na’vi and So’lek calling you his made your natural instincts scream out for him.

“Yes!” You borderline yell at him, tears filling your eyes “Yes it is- I am- Yours! I am yours” 

So’lek shushes you as he sinks his long index and middle finger into you, causing you to squeal as they immediately brush against a part of you that has never been touched by even your own fingers. The feeling of your warm cunt clamping tight to his fingers makes So’lek sigh your name and forces him to give his cock a firm tug to relieve some of the pain from his neglect.

Your fingers desperately search for grip in the soft moss cushioning your body as So’lek’s fingers bully their way against your g-spot again and again, forcing punched out whines from your throat that you can’t find control over. Each thrust and curl and scissor of his fingers makes the steady growing pit of need in your gut all the more noticeable and for a moment you’re convinced you might just explode from the intensity of all the feelings that consume you.

So’lek watches, a man possessed by the sight, as your soaked pussy leaves a creamy ring gathering at his knuckles and your body trembles from the punishing pace of his fingers. He feels cruel for drawing out your ache, knowing that you most likely won’t cum from penetration alone, but he can’t contain the part of him that yearns to see you so desperate and submissive for him while hating the idea of this coming to an end too quickly.

“You are… the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, Sarentu” A broken sob falls from your lips as So’lek finally presses his thumb to your throbbing clit, an uncontrollable string of “Thank you” breathlessly escaping you. A few lazy, firm circles is all it takes for your cunt to spasm and gush around his fingers but So’lek makes sure to bump and curl his fingers against your g-spot to drag it out, forcing stream after stream of clear fluid to splash over both of your thighs and the moss beneath you until your voice gives out mid scream of his name.

You pant for air, the intensity of your first orgasm making it feel hard to get enough air into your lungs. Your head feels heavy, your arms feel weak and So’lek can feel your legs quivering with the threat to give out. Taking pity on you, shaking under him like a leaf, So’lek moves you onto your back.

Blinking rapidly to clear the haze from your eyes you stare up at So'lek's form hovering over you and despite having him practically rip your orgasm out of you not 5 minutes prior you feel your stomach flip with nerves as he leans in to kiss you. The flat of his nose brushes against your own and his lips meet yours, his kisses expressing more than he could with his words if he tried.

So’lek pulls back first, leaving you chasing his lips for more as he laughs his deep, hearty laugh at your eagerness. “Ma’Sarentu..” His breath tickles your lips as he speaks “I must have you.. but only if you are ready to have me..” 

How could you refuse? With So’lek looking at you as if you were sent to him by Eywa herself you were sure there was never anything in your life that you wanted more than him. “So’lek.. I need you..” 

Your pretty face only flushes more as So’lek hooks your leg over his hip and holds it in place while his free hand takes his painfully hard cock and runs the head through your sloppy folds. You’re sure that your skin must be glowing purple when he catches your oversensitive little clit with his motions and can’t hold back from laughing at the jolt that takes over your body.

So’lek’s cock throbs in his hand as your slick coats his sensitive head and when he finally feels the relief of your tight cunt gripping him while he pushes into you, he can’t hold back the borderline feral noise that rips from his throat.

“Ma’yawntu, you were made for me..”

Forcing himself to take it slow takes a level of self control that So’lek struggles to reach, your pussy is gripping him so tightly in its wet warmth but he knows he can’t push you too far too fast. Bringing his hand between your bodies, his fingers find your swollen clit and slide over it with precision that makes your head spin and your cunt relax enough to take more of his length.

By the time So’lek manages to fill you completely all that can escape you is a choked off scream. His cockhead is crammed against your g-spot while he rolls your clit between his fingers and the incredible weight of his length inside of you makes it feel as if he was always meant to be there. 

So’lek starts with shallow thrusts, not wanting to overwhelm you with the brutal pace his body craves to fuck you with but the sound of his cock plunging in and out of your wet cunt is making it hard to hold himself back. 

It’s a boost to his ego how quickly he feels the same twitch around his cock that he felt around his fingers not long ago and he doubles his efforts to aim his cock against your g-spot with each thrust, punching broken moans out of your throat with each hit.

Feeling you cum around his cock is better than So’lek could have imagined, you tighten impossibly around him making it hard to keep thrusting with the grip your pussy has on him. His ears pin back as he snarls, desperately holding back from cumming inside you as you scream for him. 

You watch So’lek pull from you and can’t stop your eyes from widening when you see the size of his cock. The beginnings of the light of day are starting to creep into the cave giving you a clear view of your slick coating his impressive cock.

Firmly gripping his length he immediately tries to match the pace he was fucking you with his hand, his grip is a disappointing comparison to the clamp of your cunt around him and he’s sure that he’ll never find pleasure easily again if it’s not from being buried deep inside you.

So’lek’s half lidded eyes gaze down at you, the wet sound of his hand gliding over his cock filling the cave along with both of your heavy breathing. He’s being given such a beautiful image to jerk his cock too, one he wishes he could see for the rest of time when he closed his eyes. You’ve propped yourself up onto your elbows, purple flush painting your body with your legs spread wide where he was pressed against you and to top it all off your sweet puffy cunt was still dripping for him, overworked and overstimulated while drooling slick out of your used hole.

The animalistic noise that rips out of So’lek’s lips makes your own ears pin back and your cunt pulse around nothing. You feel the first shot of his cum land on your inner thighs before he reaims and purposefully shoots the rest of his fat load onto your pussy. Claiming you as his.

So’lek pants as he twists his wrist, squeezing every last drop from his cock until he’s sure he has none left to give you. He can’t bite back the smile that crosses his face seeing you covered in his seed, a smile that comes across in his voice as he admires your used pussy.

“You are mine now, Sarentu.. No one else will ever feel you like I have”

[itscherrylipsforme]

The missing piece: Oliver Quick x fem!reader

Part 2 here

Summary: A few months after Saltburn becomes completely his, Oliver still feels like something is missing. Without being able to put a finger on it he decides to pay a visit to Oxford, where all started, trying to find the answer between his old memories. Fate believes that a pretty and sweet student he meets in a bookstore is the piece of the puzzle he needs right now. After all everyone wants to be showered with love, don’t they?

Warnings: Post Saltburn fic, a little bit dark (it’s Oliver, what you expected?), age gap (he is around 15-17 years older), slightly innocent kin? (nothing sexual)

Words: Around 1700

Author's rambles: Okay, I feel in love with him the movie and I am kind of embarrassed about it (It’s not my fault hat the actor has pretty eyes and a gorgeous accent, fine?) For your own good, don’t aspire to have a boyfriend as toxic as him in real life. Also this is my fic on Tumblr, please be nice

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

There is a psychological phenomenon that claims that after achieving something we have been longing for some time instead of the sense of satisfaction we were expecting we feel incomplete, hopeless and already looking forward to our next success. After having the Saltburn's keys just for himself, Oliver experienced that piercing emotion for the first time in his life. If he was painfully unaware of it or simply decided to ignore it remains as an open question until today. The only thing that was certain for him at that time is that he needed some action, a new goal, maybe some entertainment, and specially he needed answers. That’s why he decided to go back to the place it all started nearly sixteen years ago

Oxford hadn’t changed a lot since he graduated, as he had the chance to notice it. Different names, different faces, different decades… But still the same social scheme it was back them. Groups of rich daddy’s and mommy’s children swarming around the campus, pubs where you had to drink to be accepted, and poor little nobodies who had to adapt or die in the process

He rented a large flat not so far away from the university, and in the café just below it he rediscovered a hobby he had always had, but which have been almost forgotten on those last months on the mansion. Looking at the students, being able to read through their facades while accompanied by a cup of coffee, became his new pastime. But people always talk and after some weeks spending the afternoon in the café terrace just lost in his thoughts he realized the odd glances the staff shot towards him, so he decided to hide his true interest behind a less complex and unique one. The next day he went to the closest bookstore to buy any novel that would help him with his purpose, after all, people just ask fewer questions when you are reading on your own. That was when he found you sitting on a couch, legs crossed with a book between your small and soft hands

Pretty, beautiful, gorgeous even. Young, probably still studying at Oxford. On the shy aspect, lovely and smart as he guessed correctly. Sweet smile. Bright eyes. Oh, and some soft curves he was able to peep while he seemed to be looking at the shelves by your side. Wait, was that a blush, what he saw on your cheeks? Another scholarship student as he was back then. The fact that your clothes weren’t from big and expensive brands and that you spent your afternoons in the bookshop without really buying anything was the clue he needed to be sure about it. God, you were adorable, perfect, just what he needed right now and he decided to start working on it

Time had shown him that patience and a good plan could take you far away, this is the reason why, although he was eager to come to you and straight-forward mesmerize you with his tricks, he waited. He spent the next five weeks going to the library more or less daily hoping to see you, and luckily (since he was used to building his own luck) your schedules always matched. He always sat on an armchair to read next to yours, close but not enough to be suspicious. Just after he had made sure you have not so subtly looked at him a few times, he decided to make the move

“The Secret History” a deep silky voice said from behind your seat. His face slightly near to your face which made the words linger in the air for some honey-like seconds “You have a good taste”

“Thanks… Thank you” you manged to say in sweet and shy whisper

“First time you read it?” he asked and a shake of your head was the response he got

“No, I have already read it a couple of times in pdf. But I have never owned the physical book”

“We can have that keep happening, can’t we?” he grinned, and you couldn’t remember if he was the first man who had smiled and looked at you in that way “May I have a look at it?” his large and firm hands came to hold the cover as he stood up and went straight to the cashier “Follow me, darling” the nickname rolled in his tongue, sweet as candy, and before you thought about it, you did as he said. You were obedient, good thing, he thought to himself. He pulled the money out of his wallet in merely seconds, paid for it and hand it back to you

“Thanks, but I can’t accept it” you said slightly embarrassed

“Of course, you can! It truly is an amazing novel, you deserve it” he smirked. His words have had just the reaction he had expected from you, cheeks covered with a tiny hint of pink “I have always found myself relating to Henry Winter, I just need my Camila now”

You were taken back, was that an attempt to flirt? Because if it was, he had your attention. While you tried to make any sense out of your thought, he spoke again

“I am usually on a café nearby, if you are interested you could come sometime” Another smirk, and at that moment you knew that this man was going to be the death to you. Things like this only happened to the main characters in romance movies

“I don’t even know your name”

“ You can call me Oliver, darling”

“I am y/n”

“Beautiful, beautiful y/n, it was a pleasure to meet you. Hope we see each other again”

And you did. Between coffees, books, conversations and more, he had you wrapped around his finger by the time your classes ended. Oliver was sweet, devoted, intelligent… all you could ever ask for in a man. He was straight out of your dreams, and damn he felt you were straight out of his. Innocent, easy to make blush, could keep with his ramblings and most important, you were eager to love, and he was eager to be loved

Yesterday it had been your graduation, when you left the ceremony in that beautiful dress he had insisted on buying you and wrapped your arms around him, he felt like his plan has almost completely succeeded. Almost, you wanted a fairy tale romance, and he was going to give you one. Keeping things slowly and delicate. But when he woke up and felt you laying on his chest sleeping peacefully, he couldn’t help but want to make you his. That had been the only night you had spent in his apartment in your months together. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't rush, so he didn't. At least he was glad you were coming with him to Saltburn for a few weeks in the summer and you could bet he wouldn’t let you leave the mansion again if he could. After all, you were all that he wanted. His missing piece

Part 2 here

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor | Part 1.5 | Not Dad Enough

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Oh, no. I made a drabble... I think. LOL

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC

This was supposed to be just a short drabble for my fic Donor. But I guess this is too long, lol so this happened between chapters 1 and 2 and shows Henry and reader going through the first round of IUI.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3

During the week of your first IUI procedure, Henry had flown back over the weekend before, having taken a break from filming his latest project for the year. The process leading up to the insemination wasn't too time-consuming; they just needed his sample, and the whole procedure could be completed within a few hours. So, you were quite surprised when he mentioned that he had taken off for the next two weeks.

"Why? Do you have plans with your family?" you asked, racking your brain to recall any upcoming birthdays or events.

He shook his head, his expression earnest. "No, not at all. I just... I want to make sure you're alright," he replied, his eyes holding a mixture of concern and determination.

You let out a small, surprised chuckle. "You really don't have to do that, you know. Besides, what could possibly go wrong after the procedure?" you teased, though a warmth spread through you at his thoughtfulness.

He chuckled softly in response. "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure. I just want to be here, at least until you have to take the first test."

His words touched your heart, and you couldn't help but smile at his earnestness. It was in these small moments that you realized just how you lucked out on having Henry as your best friend and your future child's father.  ---

As the procedure was completed, you found yourself lying on the examination table, legs up in the air as instructed, for the next 15 minutes. Henry stood by your side, holding your hand gently, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

"Feeling okay?" he asked softly, concern etching his features as he looked down at you.

You gave him a reassuring smile, your fingers tightening around his. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just a little nervous, I guess."

Henry's grip on your hand tightened slightly, and he leaned in closer. "You don't have to be nervous. You got this," he said, his voice full of encouragement.

You nodded, grateful for his presence. "I know, it's just... What if it doesn't work? What if this whole process ends up being for nothing? I feel like I have wasted your time and...sperm." You grimaced at the last part and Henry laughed.

He sighed softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Hey, there will always be another time for a next round. We can keep trying until it works, alright? But for now, let's just focus on this moment."

Your heart swelled at his words. Despite his playful demeanor, Henry's sincerity always managed to shine through, comforting you when you needed it the most. You gave him a small smile. "You're right. Thanks for being here with me, Hank... and you know, for allowing me to drag you into this."

His answering smile was soft and reassuring. "Always, Y/N."

---

After the procedure, you both returned home.

Henry suggested watching a movie to help you relax, and you settled on "Night Hunter." Despite Henry's eye roll at your choice, he acquiesced, knowing that you were set on it and not in the mood for any debates.

The film had its share of tense moments, interspersed with lighter ones that brought occasional snickers from you. 

One particular scene caught your attention—Walter Marshall, the character played by Henry, was sitting on the kitchen floor with his on-screen daughter, attempting to have a heartfelt moment. 

You couldn't help but chuckle dryly, cringing at the dialogue and the lack of genuine paternal energy emanating from Henry's portrayal.

"Wow," you commented, your voice laced with amusement, your gaze locked on the screen.

Henry glanced at you, his brows furrowing. "What's so amusing?"

"Come on," you chuckled, nudging him playfully. "If you're trying to show off your potential co-parenting skills, this movie isn't exactly boosting your case."

"Hey!" He gave you a playful mock-glare. "You're making fun of my acting skills. How dare you?"

"Just a little," you admitted, giving him another playful nudge. 

“So mean,” he muttered, his hand moving theatrically to his chest, as if nursing a wounded heart. Sooo dramatic. You laughed. 

Your gaze remained fixed on the screen. "I mean, it's just that I'm not quite getting the 'dad vibes' from you in this scene."

Henry laughed, a genuine sound that filled the room. "Fair enough. Guess I have some work to do if I want to impress as a movie dad."

You grinned, nodding in agreement. "Definitely a bit of room for improvement."

He leaned back on the couch, arm casually draped across the backrest, his eyes still on the movie. "Well, I'll consider this valuable feedback."

"I'm glad I could contribute to your acting growth," you quipped, a playful twinkle in your eye.

"Always striving for improvement," Henry replied, a hint of laughter lingering in his voice. "But in my defense, being a movie dad is a whole different ball game."

You raised an eyebrow, your tone teasing. "Oh, I see. So, you're saying real-life co-parenting would be a breeze for you?"

Henry's lips curled into a playful smile. "Well, I'd like to think I'd have a better grasp of it, but I guess there's only one way to find out."

The two of you exchanged amused glances, the easy banter between you a testament to the comfort of your friendship. As the movie continued to play, you leaned back against the couch, feeling the warmth of Henry's presence beside you.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," you mused softly, your voice holding a touch of anticipation.

"Indeed," he agreed, his gaze briefly meeting yours before returning to the screen. And as the movie scenes unfolded, you felt yourself growing more at ease, the laughter and companionship settling any lingering nerves from the day's events.

Eventually, the familiarity of your shared space and the comfort of Henry's company began to take its toll, and you found yourself succumbing to drowsiness. Your head rested against his shoulder, a contented sigh escaping you as you closed your eyes.

He glanced down at you, a soft smile forming as he watched your peaceful expression in sleep. His heart swelled with a mix of fondness and a growing sense of longing. He carefully adjusted his position, allowing you to rest comfortably against him, his arm holding you close. As the movie continued to play in the background, he couldn't help but contemplate the possibility of a deeper connection with you, one that extended beyond the realm of co-parenting.

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Tag list:

@jyessaminereads @summersong69 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetandgentlecreature @kingliam2019 @leaveitbythewave @mrsevans90 @evansabove1981 @bascmve01 @shellyshellshell @iamsana @foxyjwls007 @one-sweet-gubler @henryownsme

[tonicandjins]

frequent flyers | lee donghyuck

CHARACTERS: haechan | lee donghyuck x fem reader

WORD COUNT: 13k

GENRE: angst, fluff, smut (non-linear) | best friends to strangers

AUTHOR'S NOTE: read with caution. this is written in a non-linear form, so you don't know when it's going to hurt ;) this is a dh x reader version of my markhyuck fic from ao3, but with a different ending

frequent flyers is the third installment from 23 moments with donghyuck

Donghyuck looks beautiful like this: skin glowing under the dainty string lines and lined up lanterns hanging from the high ceilings, lips curled up to genuine smile instead of the usual teasing smirk plastered on his mouth, cheeks tainted in berry red—a single manifestation of the glasses of wine he’s had tonight, eyes round and sincere and everything you’ve ever known.

Zhong Chenle’s mellifluous voice echoes in the banquet, singing to the tune of lover as the newly weds take their first dance (third song in) in the middle of the floor, surrounded by couples and lovers swaying. From your peripheral view, you catch a glimpse of Park Jisung sneaking his phone out and recording the whole thing—after Chenle clearly mentioned no one else aside from the newlyweds’ assigned videographer is allowed to film him.

On other days, you’d love to listen to Chenle’s golden voice, and he knows this because from all the years you’ve known him, you’d supported his career and you’d spend many hours sitting in his studio, listening to him record, or sitting somewhere halfway across the world, watching him write his songs. I can listen to him sing all day, you’d say, but as the night jumps deeper into its darkness, you realize how excruciatingly long his 15-minute medley went by.

You look across the room.

Donghyuck looks enthralling like this: beautiful even after all these years, charming like he’s the day he turned 21, grown, earnest, and at ease. It’s agonizing to look at from where you sit across the room—hands wrapped around her waist, eyes closing as he leans in, drunk, drunk, drunk like the night you’d left him, heart void of you.

You begin to count.

At 27, you’re pretty much done with all kinds of romance the world could offer.

Unlike the person sitting next to you, you prefer to listen to Blushing Youth than watch some high-rated romantic comedy film during your 12-hour flight from Heathrow to Incheon, and while you’ve been moving around for most of your life (having earned your nickname as frequent flyer, credits to Jisung), flying is not one of the things you’re fond of. In fact, it’s not in the long list of strengths you brag about in your LinkedIn bio. You reckon it would truly be embarrassing, to say the least, to ask a stranger to distract you from the sound of the aircraft’s engine running at full power as it takes off from the runway, hence you opt to blast Ahn Jiyoung’s voice right in your eardrums.

It’s odd, people would say, for someone who’s supposedly mastered the art of moving from one country to another to be so terrified of flights, but if people want you to be completely honest, nothing sounds more horrifying than the thought of seeing Lee Donghyuck after years of radio silence.

As pathetic as it sounds, your heart still skips a beat—three, sometimes—at the thought of him.

Donghyuck, who used to be your sun, who had you orbiting around his gravitational pull for years, who used to be so close but not enough to have, who—if you think about it now—might have never been the center of your solar system after all, but maybe just a shooting star passing by.

The plane takes off, roughly and loud like you’d expected, and you catch a glimpse of a scene from Love, Rosie from the person sitting beside you and immediately regret going coach instead of flying business like how you would if your flights last more than ten hours. You hate this film; you hate it because Alex is to Rosie, like how Donghyuck is to you.

Alex and Rosie, like you and Donghyuck, are—were—long-time best friends who used to be inseparable until one day they’re not. Rosie misses her chance. Alex stops yearning, hoping, waiting, and finally decides to get on with his life. It’s a story of a bunch of tangled webs—a messy tumbleweed of missed calls and delayed flights, of long nights and short days, of forgotten promises and faded hope.

The film introduces new people, bids goodbye to old chapters, but in the end it’s Alex and Rosie.

And you wish that’s how your story went. You don’t end up kissing him in your very own hotel with an awe-striking view of the horizon right outside the window.

You bury the thought before you start missing him again. You run out of tracks from Blushing Youth’s discography like how you run dry from thinking about what happens next when your plane lands.

Might as well sleep it off.

A sharp, jabbing pain on your left leg wakes you up from your unscheduled sleep. Hissing, you find Donghyuck sitting on top of your legs.

“I swear to God,” you breathe, kicking your best friend’s weight off your limbs. “I will freaking kill you.”

“Dude, what’s wrong with saying fuck? You’re literally twenty,” Donghyuck replies, moving further so his entire body crushes yours, and you have to pretend that his warmth doesn’t make you feel some type of way, hence you push him as hard as you can until he falls onto the carpeted floor of your room.

He falls with a thump. “Screw you,” he mumbles, mouth forming a pout that you’d gladly smack out of his face—except you’d do it with your very own lips. “It’s almost one in the afternoon. Why are you napping?”

“Good question, Donghyuck,” you start, sitting up and rubbing your eyes while looking for the pair of specs that Donghyuck is already shoving towards your direction; you gladly take it. “Unlike you, I had to work in the café until one in the morning. I hate being rostered in the closing shift, but it pays damn well. Plus, I forgot to do my laundry so I had to throw my clothes in before I slept.

“Overworking again, I see,” he muses, sighing as he scoots to sit cross-legged across you on the bed too tiny for two people.

“The last week of the semester always sucks balls,” you answer, tilting your head in attempts to stretch your stiffened neck and get some kind of relief. “Why are you here anyway? Shouldn’t you be out there doing something stupid with Na Jaemin?”

“There’s a music festival on Friday,” he starts right away. “Jaemin’s wondering if I’d be interested to go, says he could get us some free passes from the guy he’s hooking up with. Apparently, the guy is DJ-ing.”

You blink. “Which one? Lee Jeno? Or Yoon Sanha?” you ask, genuinely curious because Jaemin is Jaemin and he could never be caught exclusively hooking up with one person.

Donghyuck shrugs. “Does it matter? Is it a yes or a no? That’s the question.”

He begins to fiddle with his fingers, playing with the rings on his long, delicate digits, and you recognize it almost instantly. Donghyuck is nervous. You might have an idea why.

“Is this you finally asking me out, Lee Donghyuck?” you half-joke, scratching your head. Donghyuck looks anywhere but your face. A glimpse of his eyes is all you need, because if the eyes are the windows to one’s soul, then Donghyuck’s are wide open, with no curtains and bare from all layers—at least that’s how they are to you. His eyes are wavering, and though he’s mastered the ability to keep his face tough as steel, those orbs could only do so little when it comes to hiding from you.

So, you smile, reaching out and leaning closer, kneeling until you’re face to face with him. “Only kidding, Hyuck,” you say finally, taking it easy because this conversation is not for one who’s hazy from sleep and one who can’t even look at the other in the eyes. “Of course, I’ll come with you. Who else can you bring anyway?”

Donghyuck looks up, rolling his eyes; he’s back. “You’re not really irreplaceable,” he replies smugly. “Don’t think too highly of yourself.”

You poke your tongue out and reach over your night stand to check your phone; at the same time, Donghyuck starts biting his fingernails. You don’t think twice—like blinking, a habit, natural—and reach out to pull his hand away, mumbling about how he should start working on getting rid of this bad habit of his. Donghyuck’s hand is warmer compared to yours, and he lets out a whine, complaining about your freezing hands, but squeezes you hand back anyway.

You are content with this. You hope Donghyuck is, too.

The lingering touches. The stolen kisses. The piercing glances.

While they all seem fleeting and simple, they mean the most to you. You begin to think if Donghyuck feels the same as he pulls you closer until you’re both back lying on his bed, your cheek resting on top of Donghyuck’s warm, cloth-covered chest. You wonder if he means it, when he says you’re not irreplaceable and that maybe you’re a little too comfortable, a little too satisfied with whatever it is that you have.

On a drunken night, Donghyuck may have asked you once. You remember it and think about it so much that sometimes it felt like a dream.

“How long, Y/N,” he had asked, his voice an octave deeper than usual, gaze a shade darker. “How long until you let yourself just lose it? For once, just—just please, let your feelings consume you.”

You didn’t want to—not then, not now—because it’s going to hurt.

It’s going to hurt because it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Donghyuck who feels like home, whose hands are warm enough for your cold ones, your own little sun. Losing him is the extinction of your solar system.

“Y/N,” he had whined when you didn’t reply, shaking you, pleading. “When are you going to want for more? I want you to ask me for more.”

But Donghyuck had passed out before you had the chance to think of an answer—time frame—and you wonder what your answer would have been if Donghyuck stayed awake for a couple more minutes.

“I guess napping at this time of the day doesn’t sound too bad,” Donghyuck murmurs against your hair, kissing it before relaxing. “Set an alarm for me. 3 pm.”

You hope Donghyuck asks you again, not this time, but you hope the question lingers in his mind a little longer.

He falls asleep to the sound of your breathing.

When the person sitting next to you finally wakes up, you could only sigh in relief.

The aircraft has landed a few minutes ago, and your flight seatmate slept so soundly that it took you a couple of minutes to shake her awake.

The 12-hour flight is a pain in the ass, and you wish you mean that figuratively. Waiting was something that you were once good at, and Renjun often told you he wished he had half the patience you had. If you think about it now and reflect whether you’re as patient and as willing to wait as before, you’d changed vastly. Ridiculous, how one could change so much in a lifetime.

Huang Renjun is standing behind a barricade when you finally reach the arrival area after going through immigration. He’s holding a piece of paper that says WELCOME HOME, Y/N! Renjun doesn’t give you the time to cross the boundary because he attacks you in bone-crushing hug the second he’s allowed to. You almost topple over him, your glasses at risk of either falling out of your face and into the cold, hard ground, or being crushed between your nose and Renjun’s shoulder.

Renjun chants your nickname over and over again, swaying both your bodies left and right as though you weighed nothing. “I’m literally about to combust. My chest has been pounding since I arrived here. You have no idea how much I missed you, and you were taking forever to go through immigration.”

“Oh, Huang Renjun,” you sigh, inhaling his scent and returning the hug. “Some things never change. You’re still the sweetest when you miss people. Absence really makes the heart grow fond.”

Renjun pulls away to get a good look on you. “Y/N, you’re all grown up. I can’t believe you resisted not seeing me in person for four years.”

“You’re just as grown up as I am,” you reply. “We Facetime each other every other day. What are you talking about?”

“It’s never the same,” he mumbles and helps you with your luggage despite it only being one small luggage, a small duffel bag, and your small backpack. He starts nagging as soon as he notices how small your baggage is.

“You were away for literally four years and you think packing three old shirts and a pair of jeans will be enough to get you through your entire trip here?” Renjun gasps. “You’re stupid if you think Chenle and Jisung are allowing you to leave after what we’re all here for. They have an entire month planned out the second you agreed to come home.”

“I didn’t bring only three shirts, for your information. And I did bring a few pairs of trousers and a coat, plus my dress for the wedding,” you defend. “And I can’t extend my trip here. I thought we’ve all got that one settled.”

Renjun laughs, as if what you said is some kind of joke, as he leads you towards the exit of the airport. “You know we would 100%, without hesitation, burn your passport if it means we could make you stay longer, don’t you? I hope you don’t underestimate us like that.”

You chuckle at his empty threat, your chest swelling at the thought of your long-time friends being thrilled of your arrival in Seoul. You wonder how much has changed in the last four years, and you reckon nothing much has when it comes to your friends. You’d left when most of you were twenty-three, and the only person you’d ever seen in person since then was Chenle, who at that time, had business in London so he stayed where you lived instead of a luxurious hotel he could afford.

“We’re heading to Chenle’s place,” Renjun announces as soon as you sit comfortably in the passenger seat of his car. “But he’s still in his studio recording something, so he won’t be around until maybe five.”

“Why are we going to Chenle’s place if he’s not there yet?” you ask. “He didn’t tell me he had work.”

“We’ve all worked around our schedules to meet you today,” Renjun explains as he turns the ignition on and starts backing up. “And everyone knows his home’s passcode. Remember back in college when his stupid fancy condo eventually became everyone’s? That’s still how it is now. Only this time, he owns a penthouse in Gangnam’s most expensive building. What a spoiled brat.”

“He earned it,” you comment.

Renjun hums. An old track from the local radio station plays just as the vehicle exits the airport’s parking area. You hadn’t heard this song in years, but your mouth sings the lyrics as though it’s only been yesterday.

Renjun is amused. “Some things never really change.”

Donghyuck suddenly changes his hair color on Sophomore year in college. You, on the other hand, are about to have an aneurysm.

Na Jaemin makes fun of you, laughs as if your reaction is the most hilarious thing he’s ever seen his entire life. He deems it as the best day of his life.

“Jaemin, am I a fucking joke to you?” you ask. Jaemin doesn’t even bother to answer. “You think this is funny?”

You almost choke on nothing when Donghyuck decides to walk towards the table you’re sharing with Jaemin inside the university’s very own cafeteria. He’s holding a tray of food for lunch. The man himself has a shy smile on his face, evidently aware of the attention that the people around are giving him because of his newly-dyed pink hair, and you can’t really blame anyone if they stared a little longer.

Because Donghyuck is already beautiful, with his shining eyes and glowing skin and a smile that could make the earth stop orbiting around the sun.

But this Donghyuck, Pink Sun as Jaemin had started calling him, he’s something else. You might pass out if you look at him a little longer.

“I told you pink looks amazing on you!” Jaemin exclaims as soon as Donghyuck is close enough.

Donghyuck instantly blushes, but covers it up with a smug smirk across his mouth.

“Careful,” Donghyuck warns. “I don’t want you getting hurt if I reject you.”

Jaemin gasps, “You would never!”

Donghyuck playfully sticks out his tongue on Jaemin and finally, finally, turns towards you. Your breath is caught in a hitch. Donghyuck tilts his head slightly and you’re about to punch himself in the face. 

“What do you think?” the man asks, smiling cheekily. “Do you think I look better blond or pink-haired?”

You swallow. It takes you great power not to pull Donghyuck and kiss him squarely on the mouth.

Blond Donghyuck was a menace in the society. Pink Sun is giving you a heart attack.

But you’re not about to make things too obvious, so you shrug and mutter a small “either is fine.” Jaemin kicks you under the table. Donghyuck sighs, taking out his phone to open its front camera, probably to check himself out as he brushes his fingertips in his hair. 

“You’re cheap, Y/N,” he says, putting his phone down. “I basically burn my scalp to get this hair color and pull it off better than Lee Taeyong ever will, and all I get from you is, ‘either is fine.’”

Jaemin laughs hysterically, taking his phone out as Donghyuck takes the empty seat beside you—like always, because seats beside you are always reserved for him. Donghyuck carefully places the tray of food he got, immediately, your eyes catch the extra drink he has and your heart somersaults because you know it’s for you.

And this is supposed to be normal. Your friends tell you it’s a routine—every day—and you and him do things for each other like second nature. So, why does it make your heart race like this?

Your phone chimes as Donghyuck starts eating.

“We really need to work on your communication skills,” the text message from Jaemin says.

Your comprehension in Korean went from bad to worse, if it’s even possible.

Renjun is currently roasting you for it, while Jisung and Kim Minjeong are arguing about what to eat. You tell them how small the Asian community in London is as compared to other countries. Jaemin announces that Mark Lee just boarded his flight from Vancouver, too, and you cheer, excited to see him as well after all these years. Yoo Jimin calls out Jisung and Minjeong’s bullshit and says she’d already ordered from the nearest restaurant.

How you all end up in Chenle’s penthouse before the owner himself is aware, you have no idea. All you know is that things have not really changed that much.

You feel a little disoriented, your mind still a little hazy from the 12-hour trip, and you hate that the jetlag is hitting you as early as now. You feel like you could fall asleep anytime soon.

Then you hear familiar voices faintly coming from the door, then the door itself being unlocked. You observe from the digital clock above Chenle’s fancy television that it’s only nearly two in the afternoon, so it’s not Chenle who’s coming in.

Donghyuck appears from the door before you realize it, and he takes your breath away before you could even look him in the eyes.

“Sorry, we’re late,” the dark-haired man says, his voice making you feel suffocated, stepping out of his boots because God forbid anyone who steps inside Zhong Chenle’s penthouse wearing the outdoor shoes.

Lee Jeno enters behind him, his eye smile ready to meet you, while Jaemin says they arrived just in time for lunch. All is a blur and everything sounds like white noise, because Donghyuck looks at you in the eyes with the softest gaze, the smallest smile, and suddenly it doesn’t feel so cold in Seoul.

Jeno walks past him and finds his space beside Jaemin. You hear Renjun and Jisung start arguing about another thing. All while Donghyuck stays still from where he stands, about ten feet away from your space, eyes still on you.

When they’re done dancing, Donghyuck walks with her, holding her hand and keeping her close.

He passes by, doesn’t even take a glance to your direction.

Donghyuck looks at you in amusement.

“It was terrible,” you grunt. “The worst day of my life.”

He giggles and pulls you in his arms, kissing the top of your head while you stand in the middle of the room. You’re still dressed in your warm clothes as you’d just arrived from the airport. You sigh in relief because you’ve been waiting for this all weekend.

“Don’t be too dramatic,” he mumbles. “Your cousin’s going to be ballistic if he learns that you called his wedding the worst day of your life.”

“You should’ve gone there with me,” you muse. “They were introducing me to so many people, and my uncle knows I’m shit at socializing, therefore forcing me to hang out with people I barely know is like stabbing me in the eye and asking me how many fingers you’re holding up.”

Donghyuck chuckles. “What could I have done if I were there?”

You smile, burying your face in his warm chest. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why’d you need me there?” Donghyuck asks again. You know he’s teasing you now, poking until he gets the answer he wants to hear. And you’re not about to deny Donghyuck of that. Besides, nothing is more satisfying than knowing you could make Donghyuck feel flustered despite of his strong, wild persona. So, you reach up and kiss him on the chin and hug him closer.

“Because nothing is as bad as it seems when you’re around, my love.”

Donghyuck begins to pull away, making you hold onto him tighter, as if your hands would grow cold without touching him. Donghyuck only laughs, allowing you to hug him longer, and you wonder if you could stretch this night out for as long as he can. 

The moment passes by quickly.

“Donghyuck, will you at least listen to me?”

“I’m done, Y/N.”

Renjun announces he’s done cleaning up.

Jaemin doesn’t waste a single second, getting up from his space on the other couch and announces it’s time they really catch up with everyone. It turns out that Jimin herself just got back from Germany yesterday as well, while Minjeong took a week off from work, and all had waited for you to come home before gathering in Chenle’s place.

“Mark’s a piece of shit, just like you,” Jeno comments when asked why the older didn’t take the earliest flight. Apparently, like yourself, Mark couldn’t get a couple of weeks off from work, hence he’d decided to travel a few days before the wedding, which is essentially why you all had a reason to gather once again after all these years.

“Why are you all harassing me and Mark for not being able to take a longer leave from work?” you whine, throwing a cushion towards where Jeno is seated, right beside Jimin. “It’s not like we can help it!”

Minjeong snorts, “You could’ve said you have COVID or something.”

You snicker. “Only you could think of that, Minjeong-ah.”

Jeno talks about his recent flight to Yonagunijima in Okinawa for a business trip. Renjun tells him he’s never gone that far in Japan, his farthest trip being in Osaka; Jeno says he can take him there anytime he gets some free time from work. Jaemin hypes up Jisung’s newly built dance studio and the contract he’d just signed with the biggest entertainment company in Asia, to which Jisung only downplays and says it’s not that big of deal.

You and Donghyuck stay quiet while everyone else talks over one another. He sits at the other end of the same couch you’re sitting on while Jisung occupies the space between you and him. Renjun probably feels the tension, so he cuts it.

“Donghyuck, what have you been up to?” Renjun asks, reaching over for a piece of chocolate you’d stolen from Chenle’s fridge.

Donghyuck shrugs. “Renjun-ah, don’t act like we don’t see each other every weekend.”

Renjun scoffs. “We’re here to catch up. Do you want me to tell them what you’ve been up to myself?”

Donghyuck throws a cushion and misses. “Nothing’s new about me, guys. Nothing that’s interesting enough.” Then, he leans forward and turns to you. “Maybe Y/N has anything to say. I mean, she’s the one who’s been away the longest.”

It takes you aback, the interaction unexpected, and gets you stuttering. “I’m—There’s really nothing, I mean.”

Donghyuck laughs lightly. “Loosen up. You look like you’d rather be elsewhere but here.”

“It’s not like that,” you defend. “It’s just—jetlag.”

“Of course,” Donghyuck nods. “How long was the flight?”

“Twelve hours,” you answer. Renjun does his best, distracting everyone else with a new conversation so you and Donghyuck, you assume, would feel more comfortable rather than have everyone listen to you talking with the person you used to know the best. Jisung tries to subtly leave, pretending like he needs to go to the restroom, and you know it’s a tactic because you also know Jisung like the back of your hand.

Donghyuck immediately moves closer, taking the space Jisung used to sit on, the distance pulling the air out of your lungs.

“And my flight was delayed for a couple of hours because of a storm,” you continue, clearing your voice. “So, fourteen hours in total, plus one hour from Incheon to Gangnam.”

Donghyuck nods. “Well, you fly frequently.”

You nod back. “Not that frequently anymore. Since the pandemic, I’ve been working from home a lot; there was no need to travel after all. Or move to a different country. It turns out we can do everything virtually.”

Donghyuck chuckles, almost sarcastically. “What a shame that the entire world realized suddenly that everything could work virtually.”

You smile, sadly almost. “Yeah. What a shame.”

“I didn’t get the whole thing,” Jisung sighs. “What a shame. The last parts were the best.”

“You know Chenle’s going to kill you if he finds out you took a video, right?”

Jisung nods proudly. “That was the point.”

“Lia, wait,” Donghyuck’s voice echoes—not loud enough to catch anyone else’s attention, but definitely enough for you. You watch him follow Lia out.

You decide you’ve had enough. The wedding’s done now, anyway. There’s nothing left for you here.

Jisung looks at you. “Y/N.”

“Just need some space, Jisung,” you say. “I’m okay.”

“You’re lying,” You gasp, almost dropping your iPad upon Donghyuck’s revelation. “Holy shit, Donghyuck, that’s huge!”

“Never thought I’d hear that in another context but thanks, my love,” Donghyuck replies, a proud smile etched on his mouth. He reaches over and shows you a piece of paper, the confirmation of his participation in a convention in Shanghai a couple of weeks from now. 

“Wait until Jaemin hears this,” You ramble, already on his phone to text said friend about the good news. “He’s going to throw a party for you.”

“You guys are too proud of me,” Donghyuck whines. “What if I end up being such a flop outside my comfort zone? There are going to be so many amazing artists out there. I heard some vocal majors from Konkuk are attending the conference with me, and I am already terrified of them. I can't imagine myself once I'm surrounded by even more talented and more intimidating singers."

You put down your tablet on your desk, sighing as you step closer towards Donghyuck. You’re in the apartment you share with Jimin, and Donghyuck called in earlier to tell you he’s got some great news. Neither of you really have much time to meet these days, with your internship at Seoul's biggest web developer company and the drastic changes in Donghyuck's schedule, it's a little too difficult to hang out in the safety of your apartment.

Donghyuck is evidently taken aback when you suddenly wrap an arm around his neck, tumbling when you pull him closer and kisses the air out of his lungs. You regret closing your eyes when your lips touch, thinking about the way Donghyuck looks like whenever you kiss him like this. Like Donghyuck's all you’ve ever needed. Like all the years of pining and hurting are expressed in a single kiss. Like it's everything you’ve always wanted and more.  

It's not the first time you kiss—you’ve lost count you made out in the back of Jeno’s car two months ago while all your friends are drunk and out of their minds—but it always feels like it is.

Donghyuck's lips are soft, soft, soft, and you can never get enough of the kissing him. The first, featherlight, a little hesitant touch of your lips would be your second favorite part (the favorite is when Donghyuck's licking your mouth and nibbles on your lower lip), and his hands, his delicate hands would always be in your hair, pulling and pressing and touching.

It's perfect. Donghyuck pulls you down with him on your very own bed, letting you sit on his lap.                   

He's kissing you everywhere, your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your neck, your jaw, but he stops when you begin to unbutton his shirt. You look down on him, confused and eager and dazed, and usually, Donghyuck would give in without a single fight, but this time he stops you. 

"What are we doing, Y/N?" Donghyuck lets out, like he's been holding this breath forever and now he's finally exhaling it.

"We're," you start, confused why he’s asking all of a sudden, but you don’t really have an answer to that. "We're—”

"Messing around. Having fun while we can," Donghyuck finishes, quoting your own words the first time you hooked up. "I know. But that was before, right? What about now? What are we doing now?"

Your hands drop on Donghyuck's side. Donghyuck quickly takes both of them in his, giving you a comforting squeeze, as if he's encouraging you to say something. To be brave. To let go. 

"We can't go on like this if you don't answer me, Y/N," Donghyuck says softly. "I know what I want, and you know that it's you. Just you. From the beginning. As long as I live. And you are making me happy right now. But I need to know if this is what you want, too."

"Love, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't want you," you explain, eyes wavering.

"Y/N, listen to me," Donghyuck urges, letting go of one of your hands to hold your face so you could look into each other's eyes. "Tell me now. Tell me now, honestly, if this is something you would want in the long run."

"Donghyuck," You sigh, like you’re begging for Donghyuck to stop asking. But Donghyuck doesn't let his guard down. He keeps his hands on you, waiting.

You want nobody else but Donghyuck, too. From the beginning. For as long as you live. And Donghyuck is making you happy, and you know well that Donghyuck will make you happy in the long run. The last two months of whatever game you’re playing had been fun. There was no agreement on being exclusive, no rules of some sort, and it all fell into place like you and him are supposed to end up like this. You hadn’t put a label on it, but you and Donghyuck are best friends for many years now. You went through growing pains together, survived each one of the flights you frequently took around the world, went to the same college together, and you don’t really see the point of rushing for a label now.

Because you have other things in mind other than what you feel right now. You have codes to master and board directors to impress. Donghyuck has auditions to pass and flights to catch as well, and now, an opportunity in Shanghai. Not to mention you’re both cramming to have the best credentials to get you the best job after graduation. Now is not really the best time.

So, just like many happenstances in your life, you come up with a stupid, stupid answer.

"I—I don't know, Donghyuck," you say nervously. "I mean, you're clearly making me happy. And I don't plan on seeing anyone else, but I haven't really gotten around to think about it."

Donghyuck takes his touch away all of a sudden. You reach out to hold his hands in place back to your face, but he lets go.

"Think about it?" Donghyuck asks, voice shaking. "What is there to think about? It's a simple question, Y/N. Do you want me for a long time or am I just some good fuck for you?"

"Donghyuck, why are you saying that?" you retort, angry now. "I just said you make me happy. And I'm not playing with you. I just—it's—with all the things going on in my life and yours, a relationship is not something I can maintain right now."

"Maintain?" Donghyuck chuckles, pulling his hands away, gently pushing you off his lap and standing away from your bed to put some space between you and him. "Y/N, we've been best friends since we were in high school. Literally nothing has changed for us except we kiss and fuck now. What is there to think about? I really do not understand."

You sigh. The sound of it makes Donghyuck pull away further until he’s picking up his backpack. 

"Donghyuck, wait," You say, but Donghyuck is already out of his room, barefoot, his shoes in his hands.

Barefoot, his shoes in one hand, two bottles of beer on the other, Donghyuck finds you by the pool outside the wedding reception. He sits beside you and mimics the way you rolled the bottom of your dress up to your thighs so it doesn’t get wet and does the same with his expensive trousers.

“What are you doing out here?” you muse, eyes staring blankly at the way your feet look blurred out underwater. “Shouldn’t you be inside getting drunk and having the time of your life?”

Donghyuck chuckles, his cheeks painted like cherries, mouth glazed like strawberries, and hands you the cold bottle of beer. “I’m already drunk. Do you think I’d have the courage to come find you here if I was sober?”

You nod, taking the bottle from his hand. “Good point. Fun party?”

“Jaemin and Jeno never fail to organize the best party,” he stammers. “They used to invite everyone in their shared apartment to play the American games they learned from Johnny-hyung. I can’t believe they’re married now.”

Jaemin and Jeno, the very reason why all of you gathered after all these years, have always been destined for each other, and you know this because you’d seen them start off as nothing and watched them turn to everything. Their wedding had been the sole reason why you’d returned to Seoul.

“I always knew they’d end up together,” you mutter, drinking from the cold bottle. “I used to manifest it. I said it all the time I saw them together.”

Donghyuck giggles. “You used to believe in the law of attraction so much. You manifested everything that’s happened in your life.”

“I did, didn’t I?” you reply, tasting the bitterness coming from the drink, a reminder why you prefer any other drink aside from beer.

It’s quite for a minute until Donghyuck talks.

“Why didn’t you manifest us?” he says suddenly, words a little grumbled. He’s probably had too much to drink already. You hold onto him naturally as his head starts swaying until his head is leaning against your shoulder, close enough to hear each other breathing. “Y/N, why did you never say we’d end up together like this, too? You were so damn good with this law of attraction bullshit. You could’ve manifested our wedding, too.”

Donghyuck is drunk, and drunk Donghyuck is always vulnerable. His tone of voice is enough for you to decide to cut this trip shorter than it already is. A week, you had promised Jeno and Jaemin, you’d leave two days after the wedding. But at this moment, when you’re frozen in place, Donghyuck’s warmth touching your coldness, you begin to ponder if it had been a good idea to come back in Seoul at all.

You love Jeno and Jaemin and would do anything for them in a heartbeat. Therefore, when the couple announced their engagement two months ago, it had been a quick, solid yes, of course, I’ll be there because you wouldn’t miss their wedding for the world, even if it had been exactly four years and two months since the last time you’d breathed the air of Seoul and that you’d rather die than be in a 12-hour flight, you swore you’d be with your friends during such a huge chapter of their lives.

Your schedules were immediately reconstructed, a ticket to Seoul safely tucked in the files in your desk’s drawer, and all your friends from London were already asking you to bring something back from Seoul when your trip is over. It was all set, with the promise of checking in with your teammates from work during your one-week leave, and it was the easiest itinerary you’d ever made. What you failed to prepare, truly, is yourself.

Somehow, you knew this would happen. You knew coming back would mean seeing Donghyuck. And seeing Donghyuck means opening wounds you’re not certain have healed and resuming conversations you’d never wanted to go back to. And this means, at any given time Donghyuck is within your space, you’d be a goner.

Because four years, it turns out, isn’t enough to get over him.

Quite funny, if you think about it now, how after all these years, you’re still orbiting around him.

You clear your throat, no words coming out, and Donghyuck starts to fall asleep against your shoulder.

Your right shoulder feels sore after falling asleep on your side on Chenle’s couch the morning after Jaemin and Jeno’s bachelor party. It was crazy, to say the least, and you’d decided to drink your guts to in hopes of not remembering anything in the morning. It sucks because you’re stupidly hungover and you remember everything.

The group was divided into two. You, Renjun, Donghyuck, and Minjeong were in charge of Jaemin in the other side of the city, courtesy of Jung Jaehyun for sponsoring and personally planning the grand party for his favorite dongsaeng. Meanwhile, Jisung, Chenle, Mark, and Jimin had planned Jeno’s very own party, along with Lee Taeyong who funded the event.

If you’re being completely honest, you’d think that after college, your friends would lose their sparks in setting up amazing parties, but last night proved you wrong.

The alcohol was disgusting, but you like that it made Renjun do things he wouldn’t do sober. Jaemin refused to get shit-faced drunk because his wedding is in two days, his hangovers usually last an entire day—he doesn’t want to show up at his own wedding looking like a zombie. Minjeong, well, she’s Minjeong, so she was just all over the place, nagging and getting drunk. She’s also a snob who thinks so highly of herself despite being the youngest in the group and liked to look down on her older friends all while attempting to stand upright after downing five shots of tequila.

Donghyuck, however, decided to bring his new girlfriend. Her name is Lia. And the only goal last night was to stay as far away as possible.

You knew that the relationship was new because Jisung filled you in before you had all parted ways for the parties, said that Donghyuck started dating her two months ago right around the time Jaemin and Jeno got engaged, Jimin being their bridge because Lia and Jimin have been friends since last year. Apparently, Lia’s been interested with him for years now; she just never had the chance because like you, Donghyuck also disappeared in and out from Seoul for a couple of years until he’d decided to stay here for good two years ago.

You can’t remember how many shots you had and how many cocktails were handed to you last night, but you wish you had more because it was evidently not enough to erase the scenarios from last night. It wasn’t enough to blur out the memories of Donghyuck holding her, kissing her, dancing with her, and just all out being a lovey-dovey boyfriend.

It’s a relief that you got home safely. There was no designated driver because the plan was to really get drunk, so Jaehyun had one of his employees drive everyone to Chenle’s penthouse because it’s the closest. You hope the others returned to Jeno’s place safely, too.

You stay still from where you’re lying down, eyes up on the ceiling, wondering what time it is. There was no plan for today aside from wedding rehearsal at six in the evening to make sure everything’s all set for tomorrow, so you reckon you have the entire day to get rid of your hangover.

You roll over to your side, facing the television, and the clock tells you it’s eleven in the morning. Renjun is snoring away from the other couch, and you remember letting Minjeong sleep on your bed for the night. You’re staring at Renjun’s sleeping form when someone on the carpeted floor suddenly rolls over, allowing you to see their face.

Donghyuck’s sleeping on the floor beside the couch, body parallel to yours so you can see his peaceful sleeping face, mouth slightly agape. He’s now sleeping on his back, head supported by one of the cushions, body covered with his jacket from last night. You remember parting ways with him with him last night. He’d taken a taxi with Lia back to her place while the rest of you went home in Jaehyun’s SUV. You don’t remember him coming back here.

You stare at him for as long as you can, because in the last three days in Seoul, you’d never really gotten the chance to get a good look on him. You and him don’t follow each other from any social media, so the last four years had truly been radio silence from both sides. Donghyuck, at 27, doesn’t look like he’s aged that much, albeit his round cheeks being gone, replaced by prominent cheekbones. It looks like he never bothered to get rid of the constellations forming on his face and neck, too, because they’re still here, just like many things that haven’t changed. Donghyuck used to love dyeing his hair crazy colors, now his hair is just colored naturally. His lips, wonder if they still taste the same.

“He’s going to melt,” Renjun says suddenly, you plop your head back to the couch, guilty for staring too long. Renjun sits up, stretching and laughing at your misery. “And you’re going to have a heart attack if you keep sneaking glances and getting caught. How many times has Jisung caught you in the last 72 hours?”

“Shut up,” you mumble, getting up and stretching as well. “What do you want to eat for breakfast?”

You carefully get off from the couch, making sure you don’t topple on Donghyuck’s sleeping body, draping the blanket over his body, walking towards Chenle’s fancy kitchen. Renjun helps you, rummaging through the fridge, and comes up with a breakfast menu with whatever you had in the kitchen.

Donghyuck wakes up before you and Renjun could finish cooking everything. He’s quiet when he approaches you in the kitchen, softly asking if you could make coffee for him. You don’t say no, of course.

“This is the most disgusting cup of coffee, I’ve had my entire life,” Donghyuck complains, leaning over the counter where you’re working on the opposite side of. “Stop jeopardizing the café’s reputation. You’re not some scientist so stop mixing concoctions from hell just to brag that you’re a part-time barista and a full-time college student. You make me sick. Literally.”

You ignore all of it, of course, eyebrows furrowed as you take another sip of the quote and quote disgusting coffee, trying to figure out what went wrong this time.

“I think it needs a bit more vanilla,” you think out loud.

“I will not join you in this stupid crusade of making your own “Barista’s Special” recipe,” he continues. “And I will tell your manager you’re wasting coffee!”

“Aha!” you exclaim when you think you got it right. “Maybe I need to level the grounds better and add another pump of vanilla. Let me try that. It should taste better.”

Donghyuck chuckles as you move around and attempt to make another cup. “You’ve been saying it should taste better since last week.”

He keeps complaining, but takes the new cup of coffee as soon as you’re done.

Donghyuck drinks.

You wait.

It still tastes disgusting.

“It’s sweet,” Donghyuck comments when he drinks it. You tilt your head. Renjun is finishing up on the scrambled eggs. You hear Minjeong come out of your room.

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask, hopeful.

Donghyuck shakes his head, chuckling. “Better than the ones you made when we were in university.”

“Hey!” you laugh. “I was awarded employee of the month once!”

“That doesn’t erase the fact that you forced me to drink your disgusting concoctions for three weeks straight,” he states, making you laugh even more. “I guess, all these years you’d learned what you were missing.”

“I’ll miss you,” you mumble against Donghyuck’s chest. “The internship will just be for a few months. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Donghyuck kisses the top of your head. “When you come back,” he mutters. “When you come back, I’ll ask you to be my girlfriend.”

You freeze.

“And you’ll say yes. And we’ll graduate together and make a life for both of us.”

You pull away a little so that you’re looking at him face to face. Donghyuck has tears threatening to fall from his eyes. You wipe it off with the sleeves of his jacket you’re wearing.

“I’ll say yes,” you promise. “And we’ll graduate together and make a life for both of us.”

A woman’s voice announces your flight number once again and says the gates are closing in five minutes. Donghyuck kisses you in the mouth—a promise—and tells you he loves you.

“Oh, Donghyuck,” you say. “I love you, too.”

“Come back home to me, yeah?”

“I will.”

Yours and Donghyuck’s favorite restaurant was located two blocks away from his parents’ home. It closed a few years ago when its owner passed away and his children were too heartbroken to keep the business running. It was a staple from your entire high school life, and if you could say it, it defined your standards when it comes to food.

You’d just gotten a call from home that your childhood pet had to be put down because of old age and many diseases, and you called in sick for work—thank God, Johnny was willing to cover for you otherwise the manager would’ve rejected your request to stay at home for the day—and you’re truly not in the mood for anything at all.

You haven’t been home for quite sometime now, the last time being the holidays and you normally just spend a couple of days before heading back to the campus, so everything really sucks. You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.

Donghyuck hears this from Jimin, of course, because your roommate called him as soon as she heard you crying from your room. He literally carries you out of your room, says grieving is better when there’s food.

As soon as you see the person standing behind the counter, you recognize the place right away. Although located in a different street now, nearby where you are, the place looks exactly the same from when it did years ago.

“Y/N! Donghyuckie!” the lady behind the counter greets.

“Oh my,” you squeal. “Auntie, I didn’t know you’re back in business! How long has it been?”

The new owner, the late owner’s eldest daughter, smiles at you and tells you they re-opened sometime this year. She tells you to find a seat and confirms she knew your order by heart.

Donghyuck sits across you. “You like it?”

“Why did you not take me here sooner?”

He smiles. “Supposedly on your birthday a couple of weeks from now. But with what happened today, I guess this is the best time.”

“You’re the best.”

It’s Jisung and Chenle who find you and Donghyuck by the pool area hours later. Donghyuck had completely fallen asleep on your shoulder. The younger ones help you and practically carry Donghyuck towards the car.

Jaemin and Jeno have left the venue so they could prepare for their flight the next day. You hadn’t paid much attention to the time when Donghyuck drunkenly approached you. Jisung tells you it’s already two in the morning.

Chenle tells you Donghyuck had broken up with Lia—the reason, he’s uncertain—which is why she stormed off from the reception and Donghyuck decided to drink his ass off while you were wandering around the place. You shrug, acknowledging the news like it doesn’t make your heart race, like it doesn’t give you some sort of hope you didn’t know you had stored, and tell them they should take him home.

Jisung says Donghyuck lives on the other side of the city, so it’s best you all head back to Chenle’s.

Jisung and Chenle share the latter’s bed, and you’re not going to let Donghyuck sleep on the couch after he had complained about his back hurting when he’d fallen asleep on the floor the other day, so it’s only right that you let Jisung and Chenle carry him to your bed.

When you wake up on the couch the next day, Donghyuck’s shoes are no longer by the doorsteps.

His footsteps are loud.

“Donghyuck, this isn’t going to work if you don’t fucking give me a chance to explain!” You scream a few feet behind Donghyuck. 

Donghyuck is running away, and you’re beginning to think that convincing him to go to the gym might not have been the greatest decision because Donghyuck is literally sprinting, like he’s being chased by something so terrifying.

You almost stop. Donghyuck, who always called him home, never ran away from you all these years. Not, it looks like he’d rather be anywhere but where you. Nothing feels worse than that. 

You’d just gotten back from your internship in the US, one more term and you’re graduating. The internship was easily the best thing that’s happened to you this year. They were already thinking of offering you a contract as soon as you graduate. They let you go back home, of course, to complete your degree, and said they’d be willing to keep training you in the states and have you relocate to Europe once you graduate because they’ll be expanding their business out there.

It's also the night of Donghyuck's first showcase, the first show he's headlining along with musicians and artists from different universities. You had promised Donghyuck you’d watch and support him, but things doesn't always go on your favor, because as soon as you’d landed, you were needed back to the campus for an interview for the university’s publishing team because they wanted you to talk about your experience alongside the others who went to the states to complete their internship. It was supposed to be an hour session, but you and everyone in the panel liked the questions they were asking, and somehow you felt like this was a sign that the company in the US could lead to better, brighter things for you.

Hence, you were late. Halfway through the show. Donghyuck got mad, but promised he understood. He asked for some space, at least for the rest of the night. But you wanted to apologize properly, to take him out for dinner even if it's already past midnight, and insisted that you should talk about it. Donghyuck refused, you kept insisting, until the former said something about you being a shitty girlfriend.

It’s a shitty excuse, but you were absolutely fucking tired. You’re still jetlagged from the 16-hour difference, and the entire session with your fellow interns took two hours of your day.

What you had left for the day was so little, and you chose to spend it with Donghyuck, but he decided to be an ass about it.

"I never said anything about being your girlfriend," was your dumb reply, which is why you’re now running after him from the building of Chenle’s condominium.

You pull Donghyuck with force as soon as you catch up with him, and you’re faced with your worst fear.

Donghyuck is crying. He’s never cried before, not because of you. A deep painful breath comes out of your mouth, and it hurts when you breathe, like inhaling a cloud of smoke or being hit by a ball in the back. Donghyuck keeps crying, doesn’t even hide it. He sobs and heaves and he doesn’t wipe his tears.

"Donghyuck, can you just—”

“I’m tired,” Donghyuck sobs. “Y/N, I’m so tired. I sound pathetic and I’m not sure if I’m exhausted from the performance or I’m just done with you.”

“I’m sorry,” is all what you could come up with. 

“This,” Donghyuck says, gesturing the small space between you. “I don’t think it’s worth all of the pain I am feeling right now, Y/N. You’re my best friend. I—I, fuck, I used to think that maybe someday this will all be worth it, but I am tired of waiting for that day. I am drained and you have consumed all of me. I waited for you, and I keep waiting until you finally just—let go and decide you want to be with me and stop playing this never-ending game of friends with benefits bullshit we started. I’m done. What else do you want from me?”

“I—I… Donghyuck,” you stutter. I want you to give me a chance. I want you to give me more time to figure some things out myself. I want you to wait a little longer.

"I rejected Ryujin a week before you came home,” Donghyuck confesses. "When you were in the states, and you suddenly changed your mind about being my girlfriend and told me I should go out and date other people and that I shouldn’t hold myself back, I was angry. I didn’t understand why you were pushing me away so much when I’m here!”

You stay still, crying.

“I’m here,” he repeats. “I’m here and I love you, and I’ve never asked anything in return. And you tell me you love me, but you do things that—that hurt me. Every time I think we’re finally going somewhere, you—you push back and I’m just—I’m sick of it. And Jaemin said I should just move on if you can’t make up your mind because I don’t know if you haven’t realized it but Y/N, we’ve been at it for years.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Jeno and Jaemin set me up with Ryujin,” he continues. “We went to a couple of dates. And then you called me saying you’re coming back home. So, I broke it off before we even got started. I told her it would be unfair if I kept leading her on when I know that I am still ridiculously in love with you. She said it would be alright and that she's giving me all the time and space I need to think about things."

Donghyuck curses and continues, "But I didn't need time and space, Y/N. Because I already knew that all I've ever wanted was you. I didn't need to think. I only needed you."

You don’t know what to say. You’re still holding him by his arm.

“If you're not going to say anything, let me go,” Donghyuck sternly says. You have a feeling it’s not the grip on his arm that Donghyuck is talking about. “Please.”

The single biggest mistake of your life happened on the third street from Chenle’s place, under the broken streetlight, across the ice cream parlor Donghyuck used to work at when he was seventeen. 

You let him go. Donghyuck stops waiting.

The wait from the audience was long enough.

They say your graduation day is going to be one of the happiest moments in your life. It’s not. Not at all.

Not when you’d gotten your diploma on stage and Donghyuck shows you he doesn’t give a fuck by looking everywhere else. Not when it’s picture taking time with your friends and families and he decides to stand on the other side, far, far away from you. Not when his parents ask him to take a picture with you and he shrugs it off and says he’s hungry and that he’s meeting everyone at the restaurant, leaving with his entire family.

Renjun whispers, “Does he even know you’re leaving first thing in the morning?”

You shrug it off, too. “Looks like he has other things to care about.”

Jaemin sighs. “You’re not serious about this, are you? You and Donghyuck better pull your shit together. Both of you already ruined the moment for everyone.”

Renjun eyes him. “It’s not your fault, Y/N. If Donghyuck doesn’t want to listen, then so be it.”

“It’s not Donghyuck’s fault either,” Jaemin defends. “Because he’s been trying to get answers and you wouldn’t give it to him. So, I don’t think it’s his fault that he’s done.”

“We’re not picking sides here, Jaemin,” Jeno says. “Let’s go.”

Jeno and Jaemin sandwiches you in a tight hug.

The next day after the wedding, in the afternoon, the newlyweds are bound to France for their honeymoon. They’re traveling the continent for two weeks (unfortunately, London excluded from their itinerary), and all of you decided to drop them off as if they’re leaving for years. In your case, this may be the last time you’re seeing them for a long time.

“I love you,” Jaemin says as the two very strong and buff men hug you. “I know things have been tough and coming back here took a lot from you, but thank you for making sure you were present during the wedding.”

“I hope this isn’t the last time in another four years that we’d see you in person,” Jeno adds. “We miss you, you know? Please come visit us when you have time.”

“I love you two so much,” you cry, emotional with the way they’re holding you. “Go have fun.”

They bid their goodbyes to everyone else and enter the airport.

“If I don’t get the same treatment when I leave, I’m ghosting everyone,” Mark announces. Jisung laughs. “What? You all acted like they’re going away for two years. They’re coming back in literally and exactly two weeks!”

“Go be unhappy somewhere, hyung,” Donghyuck teases, making everyone laugh as you all walk back to where their cars are parked.

Chenle needs to go back to work, so did Jimin and Jisung, hence they ride all together. Minjeong’s visiting a friend, so she’s riding with Mark and Renjun because they’re all going to the same side of the city. Which means, Donghyuck is driving you back to Chenle’s place.

“Your flight is tomorrow, too, right?” Mark asks. You hum, nodding. “Come visit me in Vancouver sometime soon, too. Or I’ll fly to London.”

“Wow, you have a lot of money to spend on flying around the world multiple times, huh?” you tease.

“Hey, you’re the frequent flyer here,” he comments. “Wonder how many miles you’ve earned and redeemed from all this flying you’ve done in this lifetime.”

You laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mark.”

Renjun and the others bid you goodbye. You’re not really certain why you and Donghyuck silently agreed to watch your friends leave, you and him standing a foot away from each other as they all drive away. For some reason, it feels like the last time.

The first time it happened, you and Donghyuck decide it’s an accident.

You were drunk, and it had been a while for the two of you considering how busy you both have been because of finals coming up. It was convenient, if you say so yourself, to have your best friend right beside you when you were feeling hot and horny. The morning after was settled with a kiss on your forehead—no apologies as discussed, because neither you nor him regretted it anyway, but there’s a promise that nothing changes.

The second time it happened, you and Donghyuck decide it’s not going to be a one-time thing.

“So, to make it clear,” you huff as you quickly get rid of your pants while Donghyuck pulls his shirt off. “This isn’t a one-time thing.”

“I don’t see an issue if it’s not,” he replies, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down, pushing you against the wall and kissing you down your neck. “Besides, we’re best friends.”

You lean your head against the wall, thinking if it’s too late to back out, but Donghyuck’s already has his hands all over you—one on your breast and the other on your waist. It’s not really that bad of an idea. Donghyuck is your best friend, and your friendship has withstood time, distance, growing pains, and mostly everything. And perhaps it’s the way you haven’t stopped thinking about your first time together that’s making you feel so, so vulnerable under his touch, but it’s not like anything’s changed since that night. In fact, if you’re being completely honest, it made you feel like you and Donghyuck know each other better now—in ways that other pairs like you don’t.

Hence, whatever thought you had a minute ago, you throw it down the drain and you let Donghyuck (messily, heartedly giggling) carry you by hoisting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist and bring you back to his unmade bed.

Donghyuck knows how to use his tongue, and you’ve kind of always known because all the girls he’s ever slept with talk about him like he’s a god of tongue or something. Donghyuck licks your lips before diving in, as if he’s giving you a taste of what you’re about to have, and he pushes his tongue in, massaging it with yours, and it almost feels like he’s teaching you how to use the muscle in your mouth. You realize how much he likes kissing, because he kisses more than he touches. He kisses you for what felt like hours, and you’re not about to complain about it.

You let him gently drop you on his bed. His warm palms caressing its way from your waist down to the side of your thighs where he knows you like being touched the most (and you’re not certain whether he’d learned this from stories or from the time you and him had sex); Donghyuck keeps his mouth on you as he rubs circles against your hot skin.

The finger he slips between your underwear and right above your clit sends you shivers down your spine. He allows you to catch your breath for a second, moving his mouth from your lips down to your neck, but doesn’t give you enough time to recover because he rubs your clit oh, so gently.

“We’re best friends,” he repeats, murmuring the words against the skin on your neck. “Nothing changes, except now I know where to touch you.”

He does. He touches you everywhere and slips his middle finger in your hole, sighing against your skin when he feels how wet you’ve gotten simply from kissing.

“You’ve always been such a good girl for me,” he whispers, keeping his finger inside, his palm pressed against your clit. “Such a good girl. Wet and ready for me. You really are my best friend.”

“Donghyuck,” you whine. He starts rubbing from inside, moving a single finger in an upward motion, eliciting a moan from you.

“What?” he asks innocently. “You are. You are my best friend. I don’t think everyone can say they let their best friends fuck them when they’re horny. Which makes me the best best friend, too. Because I fuck the brains out of you when you’re horny. Aren’t we the best team the world has ever seen?”

Donghyuck slips another finger in—easily, because nothing can describe how we you are now. He tongues the skin on your collarbone, licking and tasting and smirking all throughout, then he fingers you properly. At this point, your underwear’s stretched from one thigh to the other.

Donghyuck likes to tease you, and you know this because he massages the inside of your hole in a swift upward motion before pulling his fingers out and slowly filling you again. He does this slowly, then fast, then slowly once again. The explicit sound of your wetness makes him chuckle, leaving your collarbones and using his other hand to pull the left cup of your bra down and goes in. He bites and nips and licks and sucks your breast while he fingers you stupid—legs apart, shamelessly wet and fucking ready for him—and you take everything he gives you.

He doesn’t make you cum though, because Donghyuck is Donghyuck. Nobody is more cunning than him.

But he doesn’t make you wait. As soon as he feels you’re about to cum, he slips his fingers out and rids himself off his own underwear, then slipping the last two pieces barely hanging on your body.

He fucks you dumb. Raw. All his glory and skin. You have no other words aside from that.

He doesn’t wait because there’s truly no need to adjust with how wet and ready you fucking are. He’s big, but Donghyuck knows how to fuck well. He knows how to prevent discomfort and he’s done a very good job at proving that to you.

He fucks you missionary, and usually, this isn’t something you’d opt for. You like being fucked hard with no sense of affection and all that bullshit when you’re stressed and in need of some kind of relief. But with Donghyuck, it’s heavenly despite how sinful his hips snap.

He fucks you. Again and again. He makes you cum twice before he pulls out and spills himself on your stomach.

He kisses you, giggles at the way you’re dumbfounded, cleans you up, and lets you sleep on his bed as though nothing has changed.

Because nothing did. Nothing ever will.

“Funny how things have changed so much in the last four years, huh?” Donghyuck asks, eyes on the road.

Donghyuck’s said he’s driving you home. You haven’t been in Seoul in four years, but the route he’s taking is definitely not the way to Chenle’s.

“We’re taking the long way home,” he interjects when he realizes you’re looking at the GPS on his car’s tablet. “There’s, uh, heavy traffic on the usual way because of some road construction. And you’re going back tomorrow. You haven’t really gone around the city, so I figured it’d be a good time.”

You hum, looking at him with a small smile.

“Sure,” you buy. “It feels like only yesterday you were driving a beat-up Hyundai. Now, you’re all fancy.”

He chuckles, turning as his car speeds through the bridge. “Well, many things have changed since you left.”

Donghyuck looks beautiful like this: Seoul’s horizon running like a movie as he drives, smile soft, eyes bright.

“I’m sorry,” you brave up.

It takes you great courage to say it out loud. As best friends, you and Donghyuck had always said “thank you,” and “I love you” openly, and in countless of occasions, these words have healed scratches made around your friendship. Rarely you and him would ever say you’re sorry. The only time you can remember apologizing to him was the night, a few weeks before graduation when you’d just returned from the States after your internship. That sorry barely made up the wounds you’d caused.

At this age, you understand why saying sorry wasn’t normal for you and Donghyuck. You and him were inseparable. You were soulmates—are if you can bravely say it out loud. Your bond is stronger with him than anyone else, and you’d always believed that nothing could ever come between you and him. Like the decisions you’d made, nothing changed until something did. And when things changed, you and him had no idea what to do. Because as far as you can remember, you and Donghyuck remained constant, like a routine, a bible with a comprehensive and cohesive series of stories that’s never changed. So, when feelings got in between—denial and pining and confusion—neither of you had any idea how to handle it.

Donghyuck was bold and brave. You, on the other hand, had no ounce of courage to give it a try.

He only smiles. “A few years too late, don’t you think?”

You nod. “I know. Do you accept my apology?”

“If you buy me ice cream,” he answers.

“Done,” you say, smiling back at him. “I was scared.”

Donghyuck keeps his eyes on the road. “Of?”

“That I’d come back to Seoul and see you married with kids and all.”

“And what’s so scary about that?”

“Because it would mean I’d thrown away all the chances the universe has given me.”

Donghyuck looks ethereal like this: in a suit, smiling as he watches his bride walk down the aisle.

“Take care, yeah?” Renjun whispers as he hugs you.

Mark’s Dad and Mark himself are waiting for you outside. As most of your friends have gone home to their families after graduation, with the exception of Renjun and Jisung who spared some time today just to see you off, Mark volunteered (his dad) to drop you off the airport.

“I will,” you say, burying your face into his chest. “Any word from Donghyuck?”

Renjun pulls away and looks down. You know the answer.

“It’s okay,” you answer, mostly to yourself. “He’ll call me back soon. I’m sure.”

“I hope so,” Renjun mumbles.

The only call you get before you enter the gates is a drunken one. It’s Donghyuck.

“I hate you,” he grits through the device. “And I never want to see you again.”

“I didn’t want to come back,” you confess. Donghyuck keeps his hands on the steering wheel. “Because you’d said you never wanted to see me again.”

“And I sent you messages you never received,” Donghyuck says. It surprises you. “Because your Korean number was no longer active and you’d blocked me from everything at that time.”

You smile, wondering if you had a little bit more understanding—if you had waited a little before deactivating your old number, if you had given it some time—would you and Donghyuck end up together in the end? If Donghyuck hadn’t been drunk the night you left Seoul—if he’d taken a taxi before you boarded the plane, if he’d just said sorry back—would you and him have gotten into a relationship right away?

Regret, just like grief, makes you feel things like this. They make you wonder what could have happened, if it would’ve given you the same, awful outcome, or if it would take you to the happy ending you keep dreaming about.

“Funny how we had many things we couldn’t say despite us being best friends,” he comments. “And you agree that many things have changed in the last four years, right?”

You hum, looking out your window, watching the horizon blur in motion.

“Donghyuck-ah,” you whisper, eyes still on the moving horizon. “The only thing that hasn’t changed for me.”

“What?” he asks.

“You,” you say. “You’re the only one that hasn’t changed for me. You’re still sharp when you need to be, but gentle where people you love need you to be. You’re still beautiful like the day I had realized I loved you. It wasn’t shocking, though. That day. I wasn’t all too shocked that your newly-dyed pink hair was the eureka moment for me. Because I knew all along. It was more like a flick on the wrist rather than a surprise. Like it’s always been there. The pink hair was just a reminder.”

Donghyuck stays quiet.

“And I say this like I’m hoping I could go back to four years ago and try harder to apologize,” you continue, tears already brimming your eyes. “But I guess we needed this, Donghyuck. We needed to grow—sadly—apart. And I feel like, no, I know that I wouldn’t have gotten to know myself better if we didn’t grow apart.”

“Yeah,” he speaks for what seems like a long time. “We were—you were right all along. We couldn’t just risk it all for a relationship. I had offers left and right even before we’d graduated, and you.”

You look at him. Donghyuck’s eyes are carefully still on the road, but his gaze is soft, eyes shining from the tears welling up.

“You were made to see the world,” he says, and it breaks you like glass. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I were the reason why you don’t have the life you have now. Because it wouldn’t have worked. I love you, and I just know that at that time, when we were young and all, I wouldn’t have let you go work abroad. The few months you spent in the state for a mere internship already shook our friendship in ways we didn’t expect. What more if we had been in a relationship?”

“Donghyuck,” you sniffle. “I love you. And it hurt. And I’m sorry it us this long. I’m sorry it took me this long.”

“Stop apologizing. Y/N, I would’ve let you go eventually,” he confesses. “Because I love you so much that I’d be willing to let you go if it meant you could soar.”

The sun sets in the horizon the next time you look out your window.

Donghyuck keeps one hand on the wheel and shows you the other, palm up.

You take it with courage.

And you. You look beautiful like this: dressed in white, smiling as you walk towards your groom. You best friend. Donghyuck.

[nerdieforpedro]

I love how you write and it makes me so glad you are here.

can I ask what inspired you to start?

signed - a maybe inspired future fic writer

This is such a wonderful ask! 🥰

I'm glad you enjoy my writing. I have ideas and I write them is my short answer and explains nothing I realize.

The long answer:

I've written fanfic before, off and on for maybe the last 10-15 years. Very different fandoms. Started out with anime, dabbled a bit in Yaoi then transitioned to Marvel and now I'm firmly planted in the Pedro Pascal, Oscar Issac, Benny Miller triangle of hotness.

Fanfic for me is an expression of a story, show, movie, video game or pice of media that I enjoyed so much, I just had to make something. I can't draw, no mixing of hot tracks or beats, I've just started dabbling in photo editing this year and am a beginner at that. It's all purely fun for me. I enjoy it and it's fun to share with other people who create and are like, "Hey! You like that? I like it too. Let me see yours and I'll show you mine. Where'd you get the idea for that?" And then hilarious conversations leap from there.

What inspired me to start specifically in the Pedro Pascal fanfic world was The Mandalorian. It was the first time I realized, "that's the man I've seen before!" And then realized I've seen Pedro Pascal in many of my favorite shows, (The Mentalist was watched for the sake of completion. After season 6 and the first episode of season 7, there wasn't a real reason to continue other than spending time with my mom. She's fine, when I tell people that they think she's passed on but the woman is still lifting 50 lbs mulch bags in her mid seventies. She more than fine.) I then became fixated on this man, reset the password on my AO3 account and found Pedro Pascal character fanfics. I was then led back to Tumblr which before I was on years ago for anime and read fics by @secretelephanttattoo ( I shall always sing about Headshots. It inspired the first fic I posted on Tumblr and is just so damn cute. El is also just a sweetheart.) and @morallyinept whose Tendrils fic only deepened my brain rot for that tall beskar bucket, she's also a dear friend who's made me laugh, cry in a good way, inspired me and very time I turn around she's crafting something new. Fics, banners, self-care, doodles, smut, databases, and all sorts of Pedro interviews and dialogue. Because I'm a fangirl of them both and many others actually, I keep 👀 on them.

What keeps me going is the fandom overall and that despite, recent tribulations let's say politely, we're all still here. Geeking out over a goofy, handsome, I know he gives the best hugs, actor who loves what he does and has been working at it for years and it's finally paying off.

I've met wonderful friends and moots who reach out, give me encouragement, tell me I do well (I'm starting to listen to them I swear. I'm not good at taking compliments in person so it's even worse online FYI.

So I hope this answers your ask and I do encourage you to write that weird, funny, smutty, cute, sweet, dark, twisty, angsty fic that you want to write. I do hope whoever you are, you tag me in it so I can read it. 🤭

Special love to the following and if I left anyone off, I'm sorry. It's after work, I rubbed my eyes, wipes my glasses because I got them wet while writing this and it was a lot:

@maggiemayhemnj @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @for-a-longlongtime @i-own-loki @undercoverpena @connectioneverywhere

@soft-girl-musings @perotovar @julesonrecord @lotusbxtch @604to647

@yorksgirl @pedroshotwifey @fhatbhabiee @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @bitchwitch1981

@jessthebaker @avastrasposts @inept-the-magnificent @lady-bess @grogusmum

@schnarfer @boliv-jenta @iamskyereads @iamasaddie @chaithetics

@tinytinymenace @yourcoolauntie @alltheglitterandtheroar @musings-of-a-rose @rhoorl

@trulybetty @laurfilijames @wannab-urs @legendary-pink-dot @din-cognito

@sin-djarin @beefrobeefcal @spacecowboyhotch

[dreamofjoys]

𝟯𝗞 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧 ; 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗙𝗔𝗘'𝗦 𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚

Summary: Thrown into a world full of magic, you find yourself surrounded by a bunch of high school boys who knows nothing but to bring trouble and chaos. While you struggle to cope with learning about a brand new world where magic is of essence, something that you lack, you started questioning why was it you who fell into twisted wonderland. Was someone behind this? Was it all just a coincidence that you fell into this world? And most importantly, why you? To find these answers to your questions, you were constantly thrown into near death experiences that did little to nothing to aid in your investigations. Anger, sadness and doubts starts to manifest as you wonder if you will ever be able to find a way back home. However, new friendships were forged, and love has started to blossom inside you like spring. In the end, it was all love that has guided you to where you are now.

— pairing: Malleus draconia x fem reader (soulmate au)

— content info: sfw, might have some sensitive topics here and there but will indicate at the top of the post, diasomnia chapter spoilers

— a/n: To celebrate reaching 3000 followers, I have decided to write a series for my one and only husband, Malleus! Recent chapter updates about Diasomnia has been pretty wholesome and heart breaking. Therefore, I wanted to write something nice for our big boy. Most of my followers are from twisted wonderland, so I hope that this fic reaches out to them. It's been a long time (3 years to be exact) since I have dedicated myself to write a series for a character. It's going to be a long and painful journey for me but I really hope to complete this (despite my busy schedule). To all the Malleus's fans out there who are searching for any crumbs, I hope this is enough for you <3

— update schedule: I aim to update once a week, or maybe twice if I am lucky enough. This series will probably take a long time to complete, and I am forcing myself to write ahead of the schedule cause it's very lengthy. I seek everyone's understanding to not rush me to complete / upload them asap.

— first full chapter will be uploaded on 15 july 2023

— tag list will be opened for this! please comment to indicate your interest

Consolidation of All chapters (will update list as time goes by)

— Prologue ; A fragment of my memory

— Chapter 1 ; Walking upon a dream

— Chapter 2 ; Intruders

— Chapter 3 ;

If your user is tagged here, means you are in the taglist

— @randomfangirl2718 , @mell7 , @windalchemist001 , @mxaaii , @sailorenthusiast , @masquerade-of-misery , @rayroseu , @lychiikuma , @bannuu , @worldussysblog , @jnksgrl , @rincommittedarsin , @nooneknows8976 , @qmabailor

[nyamadermont]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 49. I have a few options for #50…

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 299,440. Ok, I hadn’t realized I was that close. Now, my answer to #1 might be “a new 560-word drabble.”

3. What fandoms do you write for? I’m nearly exclusively writing for Avatar: Legend of Korra, with a little bit of Last Airbender, where it fits in.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. Rainstorm - Su is there for Lin, for once. 2. The Well of Need - My first long-form story, with Lin taking care of Kya. 3. This is My Anchor - A mid-sized Kyalin story where Lin doesn’t make Kya take care of her. 4. I’m Sorry I Need You - An angsty one-shot that fits with a couple others in the “marriage is hard” domain. 5. Walk With Me - A longer-than-intended one-shot variant on a Tumblr joke.

5. Do you respond to comments? I do, as soon as I can. Sometimes, that means getting off work. Sometimes, that means giving a response as meaningful as the comment was to me. 

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? For complete stand-alone stories, that is likely Something Changed, where the last words are usually joyous. I can’t find the link for the worst-worst ending I have, so just pretend that never happened.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? The happiest ending? I like my happy endings, so this is tough. But I think I’ll go for Elemental Changes, because that launched my collaboration with @slowdissolve on Red Jade.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not hate, exactly. One reader informed me that I had ‘let them down’ on a follow-up story because I didn’t write the story that was in their head. 

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I’ve done a little, but it hasn’t been a focus for me. And, aside from the polyamory aspect, it’s all as vanilla as it comes.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Not unless you count LOK + ATLA a crossover, which I don’t.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not to date.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? @slowdissolve and I wrote Moonsigns together, and we published two versions. One is told in first-person language and color coded, on Tumblr. We then followed it up with a more traditional third-person version that does not rely on color, on AO3.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? Kyalin is where everything opened up for me. 

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I’m taking quite the long view of all of this. I haven’t added to Their Sacred Year in a while, but have the outline for the next installment, so I don’t consider it abandoned.

16. What are your writing strengths? Folks seem to like my dialogue and plotting.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I struggle with the final rising action / climax / falling action, to keep the pacing appropriate to the story.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I don’t plan on it, given I am uneducated in the languages appropriate to this setting. 

19. First fandom you wrote for? Legend of Korra.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Saving the hardest for last. Naming the favorite child. Ok, fine. In that case, I’ll have to choose <wrestles with self> Elemental Changes (see #7), mostly because it’s a completely off-the-wall idea that I was able to see through and complete. And to have Slowdissolve illustrate the ending was an absolute capstone.

So I get to thank both @krastbannert and @wishingforatypewriter for their invitations!

Now, it's time to throw the floor open to folks like @yell0wsalt, @dont-blame-it-on-the-kids, @linguini17, @frogblast-the-ventcore, @badlucksav, @cdlunee, and of course,

you.