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satoruhour · 9 months

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HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !

a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….

wc: 4k

warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.

you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.

aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up?

the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.

“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.

“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”

gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.

“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.

“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.

gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.

“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.

“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.

“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.

there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.

“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—

professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.

✶ GETO

you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.

it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.

it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.

you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.

“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.

“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”

everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).

geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.

“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.

“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”

as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—

“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.

“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.

“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.

a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”

geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”

“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.

how could he possibly say no?

✶ NANAMI

“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”

nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”

you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.

as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?

it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.

“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.

you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…

“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.

“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.

“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—

“what were you gonna say, baby?”

you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.

“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”

✶ TOJI

it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.

he would know — you got full marks the other time.

“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.

toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.

his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.

your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.

at least now, you’ll make him.

toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.

your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.

that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”

you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”

“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.

“and how did you know i work here?”

“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”

toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.

“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.

“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.

“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.

you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.

“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.

“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”

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sassypossumm · 1 month

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Finally

Art cred: mao0047 on X (they're really so good...)

FINALLY getting around to cleaning out my inbox, to the lovie that requested Professor!Miguel x Student this one's for you (made reader a TA grad student) MDNI TW: smut,brief mention of child's death, infidelity, P in V,degredation

"Professor? You in here?" Knocking on the heavy door, you frowned when you got no response.

He always did this.

Miguel O'Hara, stodgy genetics prof that he was, had a bad habit of falling down research rabbit holes. And when he did, you might as well have been dealing with the absent minded professor.

Sighing, you shoved open the door and stepped inside, immediately taken aback by the musty smell and horribly dim light. As your eyes adjusted to the light, your heart squeezed at the sight.

When you'd first started this TA program, you'd dreaded your assignment. Genetics?! You'd balked. What on earth did you know about genetics?!

Then you'd met your assigned professor.

Miguel O'Hara, genetics 101 prof. The man was a giant, disheveled, socially awkward, cerebral...teddy bear.

There was no other way to put it. One look at those wide, tired, gorgeous brown eyes and you knew you were sunk. Now, leaning against thr door frame, watching his hulking frame dwarf the dingy hole of an office, you couldn't stop the thundering of your heart.

You cleared your throat, and Miguel's head shot up. You stifled a smile at the way his glasses slid down his nose, and made note of the sheer exhaustion etched into his features. He looked far beyond his 38 years, in fact, he looked ready to be carved into the side of Mount Rushmore alongside the stony faced founding fathers.

"How long you been in here, Professor?" At your concerned tone, Miguel leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Stepping into the space, you struggled to not let your eyes wander to the way his frame practically swallowed his chair as he man spread.

Sitting across from him, you busied yourself with papers as he ran a hand through his hair and groaned. You rubbed your thighs together, trying not to imagine what those gorgeous thighs of his might feel like braced on either side of you as you-

"Y/N?"

"Huh?" The sound of his voice shot through you, bringing you back to the present. Looking up, you met his eyes, and took in his expectant stare. Clearly he'd been trying to get your attention. Your cheeks heated at your foolish thoughts. Blinking hard, you pushed down the unrealistic notions.

There was no way a man like Miguel O'Hara would ever be interested in you. After all, hadn't you been throwing out hints half the semester.... and after that last poetry session you'd both attended...maybe Hobie was right...you were reading more into the lingering stares than was actually there.

"Yes, professor," You cleared your throat. "I'm sorry, I wasn't listening." Miguel gave you a tired smile and pulled off his bifocals.

"It's okay, Y/N. I remember my last week of finals before I received my PHD."

"Did you get your PHD before or after Fred Flinstone received his?" His eyes creased at the corners at your light banter.

"Before, you smart ass, who do you think tutored him?" He said with a conspiratorial grin. Of all the things you'd done and accomplished in thr past year, this was what you'd miss thr most.

The easy familiarity you and Miguel had slipped into. After papers were graded, and everything was organized, you'd occasionally relax and just... talk. Over a cup of coffee, and even at his house once or twice, you'd just talk.

It was crazy to think just how familiar you'd become with his life. Over the past several months, he'd begun opening up more and more. About his first girlfriend, how he'd left her for his brother's girlfriend. You'd been struck at the thought of the Miguel you knew cheating on anybody...it seemed such an alien idea.

Then he'd shown you the pictures of his daughter, Gabi. The daughter who'd been cruelly taken from him in a car accident. Your heart had broke. To have something so tragic happen, and then to top it off, his wife blamed him for the whole thing.

Youd tried to assure him that it clearly hadn't been his fault, but he'd stiffened and shook off your attempts. On thst one, you'd backed down. He'd put up a clear boundary, and you hadn't wanted to push him away.

Miguel, however, had no qualms about dragging his ex wife through the verbal mud, and venomously at that. From the way he spoke, it was obvious he had no remaining good will for the woman who'd blamed him for his daughters death, and insulted him at every turn for his supposed 'giving up' when he'd begun gaining weight.

Your blood still boiled when you thought about it. The woman was hurting, but that hadn't given her thr right to hurt Miguel. Righteous indignation burned in your belly as you looked at the tured, beautiful man across from you.

He deserved the world.

"Professor,"

"Please, Miguel, we're practically colleagues." He said, stretching his arms above his head.

Now that was odd...

Miguel had always been very strict about remaining professional. Come to think of it, he'd been calling you by your first name since you'd entered... maybe...

"Professor, I don't think that's very," he cut you off with a pointed look.

"Next fall you'll be just as much a professor as I am."

"Shakespearean Poetry and the Romantics can hardly be considered of equal value to genetics." You balk, but not for long. Miguel leaned forward and looked at you intently.

"Poetry is just as valuable as genetics, if not more so." You opened your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes quieted you. The eyes were thr same, that visible exhaustion seemed a permanent addition to his features, but there was something...something different.

There was an unfamiliar intensity dancing in those deep pools of brown you'd fallen for. Before, you'd adoring thought of his eyes like those of a big puppy, but now...now the only phrase that came to mind was 'bedroom eyes'. You shivered at both the thought, and the electricity you felt growing between you.

On your end, you'd always known that draw existed,but youd never dreamt this giant teddy bear felt the same.

"Professor," Your tone was breathy. His brow raised slightly.

"Miguel." He instructed simply. Your tongue stuck to the rood of your mouth, and your skin grew warmer.

"Miguel." You murmured. He hummed, and you felt a thrill of pride run of your spine at the idea that you'd pleased him. "What, um, what is, what are we," He silenced you with another seerimg look.

"I'm socially awkward, Y/N," he gave you a warm smile. "But not entirely oblivious." Sliding his hand across the table, he grazed your fingers with his thumb. "I'd have to be entirely ignorant to ignore this...spark, if you will, that exists between us."

You shuddered at the contact, your eyes fluttering shut at his husky tone. A deep rumble went through his chest and he raised your fingers to his lips.

"Why wait so long?" You chanced a look at him, and felt your breathing shallow. He smiled against your fingers, and drew your thumb into his mouth, sucking softly, before withdrawing it, nipping the tip teasingly.

Where on earth did this man come from, and what had he done with your Miguel?

"For one thing, it hardly seemed prudent to risk either of our positions for something that was so clearly more than a one time fuck." He said calmly, turning over your hand to kiss thr inside of your wrist. You shuddered at his calculated tone and bit back a sound.

"You don't want to fuck me?" Your voice wavered, the words no more than a breath. Miguel's eyes darkened, and a predatory grin slowly morphed his features from placid genetics teacher to something...lewder.

"Oh, I want to fuck you, hermosa." He purred, sucking at your fluttering pulse point. "But I also want to make love to you, decadently." His lips dance up your arm. "Voraciously."

He stands, leaning over the table to dwarf you completely, pressing delicate kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. "Over. And over. And over again." His voice rumbles low in your ear, sending tendrils of arousal straight to your core.

Your head falls to the side, invitingly. You're not entirely certain what's come over him, but you're not about to question it. A whimper escapes your mouth as he finally turns your face up towards his with a firm hand on your jaw.

"For another thing," he breathed against your lips. "I wanted to see who'd break first."

"You." His lips quirk momentarily at your quip.

"Si, nena. You prove to be quite stubborn." He growls the final word before capturing your lips with his. You moan softly, and when his tongue brushes against yours, you surrender completely.

Whining desperately, you rake your fingers through his hair and tug wantonly at his shirt as his tongue expertly coaxed a litenty of primal praises from your throat. His hand slid down your jaw to enclose gently around your throat, and he groaned as your moans and whimpers sent vibrations through his fingers.

You trid tugging him across the desk, but Miguel simply grunted, tearing his mouth away from yours to press bruising sucks and kisses down the column of your throat. You whined at began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Ah-ah" Miguel growled, catching your hand in his. Biting down on your collar bone, he pulled back and looked at you. "Greedy little thing... we do this my way."

His way meant bending you over the desk, wrists held behind your back in one of his large hands as he took you mercilessly from behind.

"Th-this the fucking you mentioned?" You panted between thrusts, groaning when the base of his cock grazed your clit. Miguel hissed at the way your walls fluttered in response to the stimulation and slowed his pace, wrapping his free hand around the back of your neck, pushing your further into the desks surface.

"Callarse la boca." He grunted, picking up his speed. Miguel's hips slapped against your ass, accompanied by his occasional moan and your profuse broken sounds of pleasure. The erotic sounds seemed to spur him on, and his grip on your neck tightened as he released your wrists to slap your ass soundly. You cried out, clenching around his deliciously hard cock.

"You like that?" He growled, slapping your ass again. "You like being fucked like a slut?" Your eyes squeezed shut and you moaned. He reased your neck and gripped your hair, turning your face roughly as he continued steadily pounding into you.

"Answer me." He hissed, slapping your ass again. You like being fucked like this? Like my own personal cock sleeve?" Your breathing was labored and you moaned weakly. You could feel the veins of his cock as he brushed passed your g-spot with ever thrust.

"I, Uh-huh, so good, Miggy...." He groaned at your needy tone. "Please, need, need it, so bad..." You whimpered, thrumming and flushed, teetering on the edge of climax.

"Shhh. I got you, bebita. I'll give you what you need." He shushed you, pressing a tender kiss to your temple before grabbing your hips and pulling you back into his thrusts. You cried out as his cock bullied your clit and pussy with quick rhythmic thrusts.

"I'm gonna, Migs," You babbled, scrambling for purchase on anything to cling to. Folding himself over you, Miguel laced his hands over yours and murmured nonsensical praises in your ear, not letting up on his punishing pace.

"Let go, I got you."

With those words, you toppled over the edge, twitching and shuddering as you came all over his cock, and went boneless against the desks surface, lost in a haze of white hot pleasure as your walls clamped around his cock like a vice. Miguel groaned and his hips stuttered before his cock twitched, and he came soon after you, filling the condom with his cum.

Sighing heavily, Miguel scooped you into his arms before flopping back in his chair. Cleanup and damage control would be a job for later. Right now, you were sat, warm and sated in his arms.

And that was enough for him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel imagine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x y/n #Professor Miguel #Sassy requests

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ohbabydollie · 12 days

Note

currently imagining a jaded, deadpan lit teacher!schlatt. super intelligent, incredible teacher that all his students adore and love to learn from, but they all swear to god they’ve never seen him smile once

then comes along absolute ray of sunshine teacher!y/n, probably teaching some kind of fine art, and it is just like a moth to a flame. he cannot stay away from you!

you meet for the first time in the teacher’s lounge and he’s a little taken aback, he doesn’t know what it is about you but something makes his little brain flip a switch and it’s all sunshine and rainbows. not much longer after that, you start becoming friends, sharing cool little things about your interests or the subjects you teach.

he does a pretty good job of hiding these feelings from the kids, just because he wants to keep that side of him private from his students, but one day he slips up. you sneak in during a class of his during your free period to return a book he recommended to you. when you walked out, he had no idea that he was smiling but apparently the students noticed.

“mr. schlatt, were you just smiling?”

“finish your essay.”

also am i allowed to be 🥥 anon

ofc, welcome 🥥 anon

before you came along schlatt was the most obviously exhausted and stressed teacher, but his students loved him.

from stapling mcdonald’s job applications on failed tests to talking about his cats. his students very clearly loved him and adored him, but he just seemed so sad in a way, especially when one of them got him to talk about his dating life.

single, with multiple failed dates under his belt

then you transferred to the school after the last art teacher had quit.

he had heard about you from his students, the new young single art teacher making sure to emphasize on the single part, but he always told them to focus on getting their assignment done over focusing on the teachers dating lives.

he really didn’t care for you, probably would be done in a few weeks if you couldn’t handle how rowdy and rough some of these kids could be. he gave you a month at best.

then you came into the teacher’s lounge getting snack after snack out of the vending machine as he watched in silence. not out of judgement, but he was just mesmerized completely

the concentration on your face as you punched in number after number watching the snacks fall before grabbing a cardboard box to place it all in was all so adorable to him, he didn’t even realize he had been staring until you looked over at him with a big smile.

“hi, i don’t believe we’ve met!” you chirp, “i’m y/n the new art teacher” you say extending out a hand for him to shake. he politely takes it, giving you a semi-awkward smile

“i’m jay, i teach english in b103” he says feeling himself turn red

“oh wow! i’m only down the hall from you, my room is c102” you say parting from the hand shake and picking up your box “well i’ll see you around” you say pushing the door open

and just like that you were gone as soon as you came

and schlatt had a new goal in mind, you

the next period he had came back better than ever. his normally deadpan and tired voice had more excitement and life to it and his students noticed for sure, waiting until the lesson was over to pry into him, but they all got the same response.

“jus added a shot of expresó into my coffee this mornin” he says starting to grade the assignments from his last class.

they had assumed that was it, nothing more to it until the next week where he seemed to be radiating with joy, when they pried into him again all he said was, “jus had some coffee from my favorite spot this mornin, nothin else”

he hadn’t mentioned it was with you.

over the next few months they noticed more and more change, fixing his hair more often, wearing his nicer clothes and whatever he could to look better.

as a student asked “so who’s the lucky lady?”

you had walked in holding a book, causing the room to fall silent. you practically floated to his desk as everyone watched you.

“hey, thanks for letting me borrow your copy, it was really good” you say handing him the book

“oh..it’s no problem, anytime” he says softly as you smile

“ ‘kay, well i’ll see you later, oh and your glasses are a little smudged” you say heading to leave as he watches in awe.

once you’re out, he’s taking off his glasses, smiling to himself with a small chuckle as he cleans them off, basking in the moment, completely forgetting his students were there until someone speaks up.

“mr. schlatt, are you smiling?” he asks teasingly before schlatt immediately drops the smile and goes deadpan again

“finish your assignment before i fail you”

#schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff #🥥 anon

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belphieslavenderscentedpillow · 3 months

Text

Obey me Boys as students

Thank you for the love on my other posts, every reblog, note and follower is appreciated!

Also feel free to request something!

This is more of a human high school AU, so there is more human talk than devildom.

There is a bit of Nsfw in asmodeus part, but other than that it’s pretty fluffy/maybe crack?

Lucifer

Straight A student, what did you expect?!?

But I’ll tell you, he’s honestly kind of annoying to be in a class with

He’s such a suck up without even ACTUALLY TRYING to be a suck up

When the teacher makes a mistake he 100% corrects them with no shame

But he’s still somehow a teachers pet

People hate him because they wanna be him fr fr

I honestly don’t think he’s naturally academically intelligent like belphegor or interested in subjects like Satan

The only reason why he actually tries is probably because he thinks failing academically is embarrassing

That being said I think he’s a hardworker, always practicing and learning

Definitely pulls all nighters regularly to finish assignments

Favourite subject is probably physics like a granddaddy

Has a very simplistic pencilcase in black with an ink pen

Mammon

Literal class clown

HE is the reason why class is low key fun

Everyone keeps saying he’s annoying but high key miss him when he’s not there

That being said he’s incredibly charismatic

I think he’s got lots of friends in class cause he’s super easy to be around and he’s funny asf

he’s probably one of the kids on the teachers “hate list”

Literally always gets picked on from teachers

Always goes red when they point out his mistakes but he turns it into a joke

I think he’s an average student but is crazy good at like music or something artsy

He’s that one kid who always ALWAYS forgets his stuff

If he’s lucky he might have a chewed up pen somewhere in his bag (maybe)

He’s definitely a pen biter you cannot change my mind

Leviathan

Oh boy

He’s a very shy kid, and honestly most people forget he’s there

Even the teachers which is kind of a good thing honestly

He sits in the back of the class and does his work calmly

Never talks like NEVER

Probably has one good friend in ONE class who he goofs off with but I think that’s honestly it

That being said there’s def some type of popular demon crushing on him

He has potential to be above average academically but I don’t think he cares enough

I think his favourite subject is art because he gets to practice drawing boobs I mean he gets to practice anatomy

Has a bunch of cool stationary from animes

Definitely has some sanrio type of stationary that he NEVER shares

Satan

A student that gives 110%

He would literally be the perfect student because he has this amazing combination of politeness, academic intelligence and actual academic INTEREST

would be if he didn’t absolutely despise all of the teachers

He knows more than the teachers so sitting in class is incredibly boring to him

Thinks the teachers have no teaching ability and knows he could teach this class better than them

He is such a good student for being such a bad student if you get what I mean

Super organized but not at all at the same time

Polite but disses the teachers- really it depends on the day

He loves all subjects but I think he’s a biology or maybe a literature guy wink wink

someone hc him to send answers in the groupchat while cussing them out- that is 100% Satan

He‘s probably super popular I mean, smart, pretty and a romantic- can’t get better than that! (Well lets skip over the anger issues)

Asmodeus

Your residential play boy/fuck boy!

But just add sweetness to the mix; like he makes sure the person knows his intentions before starting anything with him

That cute boy in class that has a bunch of friends and is super popular for an ACTUAL reason

He does literally EVERYTHING but pay attention

He‘s still a teachers pet though

Probably fucked a teacher to get through the year

Has a bunch of stationary and has really pretty notes even if he doesn’t know what anything means

His favourite subject is probably geography or design (art)

Beelzebub

Jock. What more is there to say?

He‘s not your typical jock, cause unlike all the other jocks he’s actually humble

(The sport bring fangol obvi)

That being said he’s crazy popular, because he’s athletic, cute, sweet, friendly and humble

People are all over him all. The. Time.

Yeah sure he might not have a whole bunch of brains and his grades are below average but at least he’s cute right???????

Yeah he’s not much of a academic person, like AT ALL- he only likes PE, maybe a little bit of art (cause it’s easy)

The teachers surprisingly don’t really care all that much about him- just a random student 🤷‍♀️

Belphegor

This little shit

He‘s that kid who is a genius for no reason what so ever

He reads the paragraph once and never again and still gets an A++++

He barely pays attention in class, skips like 60% of the time and still rivals Satan

Lucifer and Satan get pissy about it because he doesn’t even TRY

His fav subject is math because it’s just understanding a few rules and that’s it

His favourite saying is „mathematicians are lazy“, please tell me your teachers told you this too

He is so charming for no reason, and that makes him a little shit

All he has to do is smile and the person just melts

That being said a smile from him takes a lot of effort

He never takes his stuff to school so he just asks another person and they never hesitate to give him stuff

Teachers just don’t care about him since he barely shows up anyway 💀

Diavolo

Literally cannot focus in school

He‘s like a jock mixed with student body- super charismatic, super hot and reallyyyy popular

He‘s that one friend who has like a gazillion friends and says hi to someone every 2 minutes

But when he’s in class he cannot focus to save his life

At home he’s a mashine- finishing task after task but in school he gets distracted over every little thing

He has so many expensive items, shoes, pants, stationary EVEN HIS SOCKS

Nr.1 crush for literally anyone

Favorite subject is any social subject really

He‘s a pretty average student but his teamwork ability make him stand out

Teachers gossip about other students to him 😃

Barbatos

Straight A student, no one knows his methods

Diavolo is his best friend even if they are polar opposites

Very well liked, by students, teachers but he only willingly talks to diavolo and his crush we all know who wink wink

Very well organised, always has his stuff

Even the way he wears his uniform is neat

He‘s so mysterious…… which makes him kind of hot honestly

He probably doesn’t care about the attention though

Simeon

Ugh literally the perfect student

Smart, kind and charismatic

Literally a teachers pet

Probably is in a whole bunch of clubs

I could totally see him in the drama club

Favorite subjects; drama and literature

He probably reads shakespear in his lunch breaks

He never cusses in class- even when the teacher gets on everyone’s nerves

He has so many friends! Seriously it’s hard not to like him

That being said his weakness is computer science

Yeah not really his strong suit

Luke

Poor baby gets teased relentlessly

He is super cute though

is such a sweetheart genuinely

Don’t be mistaken if anyone actually has the guts to bully him, his 11 family members are ought to get them

He works really hard to get good grades and make Micheal and Simeon proud!

He‘s in the baking club and his favourite subject is probably science honestly

Solomon

This little shit (#2)

He‘s such a mixed bag of different student traits

He‘s lazy, but hard working

Social but introverted

Super popular but gets hated on

His favourite subject is science specifically chemistry

If you are in his chemistry class he‘ll pull some chemistry pick up lines to annoy you

He‘s also in the baking club which makes Luke get cold sweats every night

Also a huge shoutout to @kkeromenoo , thank you for the love!! Sadly I can’t respond to the comments 😭 someone pls tell me how it works..

I just also wanted to say sorry for the fact that 1) this post took so long and 2) some of the characters are shorter. Probably will edit this later, but again hope you enjoyed!

Proofread!

All credits go to @belphieslavenderscentedpillow

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captain-mj · 2 months

Note

Bro you cannot just drop prep/jock soap and goth ghost and dip. We need you to give us your brain worms so we can analyze it like a science project

When you have time of course

I will put my worms in a petri dish for you

Soap was an artist! He liked sketching and painting and the act of making art. But he didn't like art essays. The explaining over and over again each detail. Breaking down everything until it felt like a bunch of paint strokes instead of art.

But part of an art degree is a ton of art essays. So Soap went to the museum to write what he needed. He preferred museums to finding art online. A big part of art for him was texture. His preference would've been to touch the art, to feel the paint underneath his fingers. But the assignment specified art from the Baroque period and therefore they had to be older and no museum was going to allow his grubby hands to touch the art.

Soap glanced down one of halls to see if there was anything interesting there when he faltered.

Oh lord.

The man was big. His shoulders. His height. The thighs he had that looked like tree trunks. It was all covered in tight black fabric and silver chains. A work of bloody art himself.

Soap had to hold himself back from wolf whistling.

Once he was done objectifying admiring the man's body, he looked higher up. There was a mask covering the bottom of his face, the only thing visible being his eyes which had heavy eyeliner on them. He could still see the locs of bleached blond hair that surrounded him like a halo.

Soap wanted to paint him.

"You gonna stare all day?" Someone snarked at him and he jumped, glancing at a slightly smaller blond man. He looked at him like he was gross and for a brief moment, he worried he might be about to be hate crimed. The man looked a lot the other one actually now that he was looking closer. Dressed the same way too.

"Aye, what's your fucking problem with it?"

The man's face scrunched. "Ew." He walked away, leaving Soap rather confused but now a bit determined to talk to mystery man.

Pretending to be looking through the paintings, he got closer to him.

Dark brown eyes quickly glanced over at him before glancing back at the paintings.

"Hey. My name is Soap."

"Ghost."

Ooh, he's from Manchester and sticks with his aesthetic. Nice. He'd prefer a not British person, but as far as British people go, he could do worse than Manchester. He glanced at the painting Simon had been admiring.

The Raising of Lazarus by Rembrandt.

"It's a lovely painting." Soap put on his normal charm, acting suave and polite.

"Aye." Ghost gruffed and went quiet again, staring in simple contemplation. His arms were crossed, making already large arms flex.

Soap started to take notes for his assignment. Although he was definitely hoping to score well in more than one ways, he did need to take notes for his assignment.

Ghost glanced over at what he was writing quizzically and Soap answered the unasked question. "I'm doing a project."

"Fun." He huffed and looked back at the painting.

Soap looked down at his chest and licked his hips. "Yeah, it's a good one." He kept writing stuff. "You a college student?"

"Yeah."

"What do you study?"

"Forensics. I'm assuming you're art?"

"Chemistry with a minor in art!" Right as Soap went to mention how funny it was that they didn't share any classes, Ghost interrupted him.

"Wait. Johnny? Johnny MacTavish? We share several classes."

Soap brightened. "Do you dress like this all the time?" There was zero chance he did or Soap would already know his name, address and dick size.

"We have morning classes together. I don't dress up for morning classes." Ghost said decisively. He stretched and shook his head.

How did he manage to not notice the shoulders though at least? The man was huge. He was also several inches taller than Soap and therefore the majority of the class. Maybe if he sat in the back and left later than everyone?

Soap nodded. "Understandable. You look nice."

"Nice huh?" Ghost smiled at him. He could tell cause his eyes scrunched slightly.

"Yeah. Nice." Soap said softly, his chest doing something weird.

They stared at the painting a while before Ghost pulled away to start exploring the rest of the exhibit.

Soap finished up the notes he needed to write his paper and then started to walk with him. He tried to find his opening during all of this.

Ghost stopped at a very specific painting.

ARTEMESIA GENTILESCHI, JUDITH SLAYING HOLOFERNES, C. 1612–1613

The art was... stunning. The red, faded from time and wear, was still beautiful against the white of the blankets.

The women held him down and there was a movement to it that Soap wanted in his own work. His fingers trembled with the want to touch it. To feel the texture of the paint under his fingers. Ridges and bumps and smooth layers of the different strokes.

Ghost hummed. "I don't really get art. It's pretty but some people look at it and it... gives them something. An epiphany."

Soap hummed. "I find touching it helps."

Ghost looked at him, raking his eyes over him. "I see. Do you want to head out then?"

Soap frowned. "Why?"

"You're a piece of art and I'm looking for an epiphany."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap #btw the mystery guy is Tommy #He's not homophobic #just thinks that liking his brother is gross

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jazzmasternot · 2 months

Text

Hazbin hotel college AU head cannons

Note: decided to write these out after reading @sprainedwriting’s fanfic about Adam being a frat boy and I took that concept and ran with it.

Obviously this is based off of my own university experience where I attend a really big public university in the southern US. so that’s where my takes are coming from.

This is also my first time writing anything on here so there’s that aswell.

Charlie

Majors in musical theatre, but not performance education. She wants to be the unhinged theatre teacher that everyone loves. Lives in one of those really fancy student apartment lofts with keke. And is part of the cat club where she feeds the cats on campus

Vaggie

She probably does something super hard like biomedical engineering (let’s go women in stem!) which takes up allot of her time already. Is also an RA for one of the dorms on campus which is good for her bc free housing and gets paid to do her homework at the front desk. Met Charlie in an English class and have been together ever since. When she’s not on call she’s spending the night at Charlie’s and Charlie’s almost always sitting at the front desk with vaggie even tho she doesn’t work or live at the dorm and no one says anything bc it’s just not that deep.

Alastor

Majors in audio engineering and runs the campus radio station that people definitely still listen too. He went to community college first then transferred to a four year (to save money ofc) and is a commuter where he still lives with his mom. Does work study where he works the front desk of the library where he does his homework and works on his scripts for his radio show. Has no interest in working with Vox since he runs the tv channel simply bc he doesn’t want all that extra work. Still takes his notes on pen and paper and still has a nightmare of a time figuring out to electronically submit all his assignments and take his tests.

Angel dust

Okay so hear me out he majors in math ikik it sounds crazy but every gay math major I’ve ever met acts just like Angel dust. Goes to raves and frat parties even tho the guys don’t want him there but he always brings girls with him so the kinda have to let him in. Does nude modeling for extra cash at the art school so he’s kinda a celeb over there even tho he’s not in anyway related to that major.

Husk

Majors in Restaurant and hotel management and is one of those college students that are in their late twenties so already has more life experience than most other ppl here so he doesn’t do allot of the stupid college that allot of other ppl do. Lives in some off campus apartment that’s just a large house rented out to students made to look like a apartment (yk the ones in talking abt) works at the dive bar located just off campus that everyone goes to atleast once in their four years.

Sir pentious

Majors in mechanical engineering or industrial design I can’t really decided. Definitely uses the 3D printer all the time and is on the robotics team, which wins every competition they go to.

Nifty

She’s changed her major so many times nobody knows anymore. Is part of the kpop club and has biases complete with intricately decorated covers, like she has so many photo cards. Also runs the campus hotties account where it’s just a bunch of candids of cute guys taken from far away. Will also get really pissed if you don’t wash your dishes bc it will attract bugs so if ur her roommate you better do the dam dishes.

Cherry bomb

Art major and is the one who got Angel the nude modeling gig. Is always pulling all nighters bc she kept postponing the assimgment till the last minute. Has probably vandalized a couple buildings surrounding the university but hasn’t been caught. Goes to raves and the aforementioned frat parties with Angel. Also has a traffic cone in her dorm room for no other reason than just bc.

Vox

Majors in multi media marketing, runs the campus tv and YouTube channel. Definitely the president of a frat that inflates his ego more than it already is. Always at sporting events at the front row with all the frat guys giving everyone the inside scoop and game commentary. Is very pissed that alastor won’t work with him. Treats himself like a campus celebrity even tho ppl could care less and are just trying to get their degree.

Valentino

majors in film and media productions yeah he’s one of those. Always asking if you’ve seen pulp fiction and telling you that you need to watch some random black and white movie that’s only in French. Will definitely invite you over to watch something with you but we all know that’s not the case. Also all his film projects has allot of unnecessary nudity and sex under the guise of artistic expression, even when it’s so not relevant to the plot. Unless it’s a film that he’s making for the university in which case Vox is controlling every aspect of it which in this case is a good thing. Smokes in his dorm room without a care in the world and has really loud inconsiderate sex at any random point in the 24 hour day cycle.

Velvette

Majors in public relations and runs the university’s Instagram account. She’s always walking up to ppl with a lil microphone to ask you to tell us what you’re wearing. Speaking off she always comes to class dressed up (like the international students) no leggings and tennis shoes for her. Also is definitely in a divine nine sorority, and runs their insta too.

Carmilla

She’s a professor for the aerospace engineering dept and shes here bc she got sick of making rockets for Lockheed Martin and reatheon. Hella smart and ppl are baffled that she chose to give up a seven figure job to teach a bunch of college kids but she’s so chill abt it tho.

Zestial

Definitely English lit professor, makes you read the books no one’s heard of and not the classics. Always brings his own open regular coffee mug from his house to sip his tea from instead of a thermos, everyone asks how he doesn’t spill it on his ride to work. Also just straight up has an electric kettle in his office so he can have tea whenever he wants. Takes turns with carmilla eating lunch in each other’s offices.

Rosie

Studies agriculture sciences and food processing. Will probably run a slaughter house when she’s done with her degree. Hangs out with Alastor in his radio booth from time to time just to gossip about whatever drama is going around lately. Wears long skirts and a tote bag all the time. Is always sweet to Charlie and Emily, also loathes Vox just as much as Alastor she just finds him annoying.

Lucifer

Is probably a religion professor that’s not religious at all and is super laid back in his class like one easy discussion board post a week. The kinda guy to be like “it’s so nice out let’s have class outside today guys” or “if I make this shot ur all getting extra credit on the quiz this week”.

Adam

Definitely majors in finance and is a frat boy. And his band plays at all the said frat parties. Is very insufferable to talk to at parties will try tell you how crypto is the currency of the future and how wolf of Wall Street is his favorite movie. Has a Saturdays are for the boys flag in his room and navy blue sheets. Oh did I mention he vapes he definitely vapes those Mike Tyson ones that taste awful and look like bricks yeah those. Always gets drunk at the tailgate way before the game is even started.

Lute

Yeah she’s in premed and wants everyone to know she’s better than you bc of it. Everyone else’s major is easy compared to hers so don’t you dare complain about all your assignments in her vicinity. She’s basically made it her whole identity like she’s in the premed honors society, future doctors of America. Types her notes on her laptop and then rewrites them with all her gel pens and fancy highlighters, like thee be so colorfull and pretty then the title would be something like blood clots. Still friends with Adam bc they went to the same highschool together and always helping him with his homework in turn he gets her into the tailgate tents and frat parties so she always gets free alcohol.

Emily

Majors in Elementary education and looks like it too, with the Stanley cup, James Avery charm bracelet, and all. She also takes super pretty notes but she does them in class which is super power all in itself, like her desk is scattered with gel pens and highlighters of every color and swears by her bullet journal. She also feeds the cats on campus with Charlie and runs the arts and crafts club on campus where they always host events like tote bag painting in the grass area of the university. Also doesn’t drink bc she’s not twenty one yet even tho she’s in college and definitely won’t smoke even tho most of the ppl that show up to her events are total potheads

Sera

She’s like the university president who doesn’t actually GAF abt the students and just fund’s athletics and raises tuition every year under miscellaneous fees. She tries to come off as supportive when she’s out in public but no one’s buying it.

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gottagetback2u · 1 year

Text

✰ stray kids as uni bfs!

warnings: mentions of food, too much boyfriend material, cause of death: uni!seungmin, inconsistent use of correct spelling

welcome to my first post! <3

-✰bang chan

uni!bangchan definitely… struggles :’) he stays awake till 2-3am every night, either doing homework or procrastinating and making music. thank god his roommate basically lives with their partner, because u get to stay in his dorm with him during these early mornings, urging him to stay on task so he can sleep.

u guys met at the gym!!! u were trying to get back into exercising after the spring break and he saw u on the treadmill. literally hearts in his eyes. like the shy guy he is, he waited until u were almost out of the door before asking “do u go to the uni around here?”

let’s just say he was giggling and kicking his feet when u offered ur number to him <3

bang chan credits u for every completed assignment! he loves that u are so willing to help him, even if he is embarrassed to ask sometimes. (it goes like, “babe.. ugh i’m so sorry but what the fuck does he mean by this?”)

he will get u breakfast from the campus cafe before all of ur morning classes. he says it’s his job as a boyfriend, even if he only got four hours of sleep! (one time he slept in and got u lunch AND dinner to make up for it)

-✰lee know

lee know is an interesting student to say the least. his electives are all “art 101” and “basket weaving” because those are the ‘easy’ classes (sadly, no college class is easy) though, surprisingly, he is very interested in his major classes! studious student.

his go-to look is glasses with a comfy hoodie and sweatpants. when u see him on campus u can’t help but stare. comfy bf material.

u guys always seemed to cross paths at the off campus grocery store! u happen to be picking up comfort snacks after crying ur eyes out due to stress :( he strolled down the same aisle as u, quickly recognizing the university hoodie u had on, staring longingly at what oreo flavor to choose with fresh tears in ur eyes.

“i like the java chip ones :)” after he saw ur tears, he bought them for u.

ur dates consist of: trudging along campus to classes together, movie nights with snacks in the oh so comfy twin sized dorm bed, and grocery store runs! he also loves to do sheet masks together! (just don’t tell anyone how soft he is for u)

studies come second to him. u come first <3

-✰changbin

a jock but not in the aggressive type way. he just wants to lift and pass his classes. (which he always does! nothing below a B- for binnie)

he is good with in-class work! whipping out assignments while the teacher is talking about the subject is light work for him. but homework… alone in his dorm…. his kryptonite. for some reason focusing is so hard in that situation!

when u first heard him speak in economics class, u didn’t expect him to be so sweet?? u sat a couple rows back, so good thing he couldn’t see ur constant staring. his smile, his biceps, his too-tight shirts, his everything.

group projects are ur guys’ weakness because you somehow always get put together. (not that u mind!) in ur third group project this semester, he bit the bullet and asked u out! he was so nervous that he made a whole google slide saying “will u go out with me?” he asked han to decorate it lol.

studying together is no easy task. ur talking about currency then suddenly in a sweet make out sesh! he said he couldn’t handle the “sweet” looks u were giving him.

really soft boyfie !

-✰hyunjin

my art student. what else would he major in?

you guys actually met in starbucks on campus! hyunjin tries to do essays in a cafe setting to “stay focused” (he really just wants to be aesthetic).

you work as a barista, and after taking his order, he couldn’t take his eyes off of u for the 2 hours he was there. he ended up sketching u instead of write his essay! shockingly, he was able to muster up the courage to at least ask ur major before he left (aka, rushed out and ran into the door).

you guys are the sickly sweet couple everyone sees on campus. u are always together!!! hyunjin wants nothing to separate ur hand from his >:(

of course, when he has freedom to choose for his big projects in his art classes, he always chooses something that reminds him of you. he doesn’t like painting portraits that much, so he will choose to paint ur favorite flowers, your first date scene, your hand holding his… yeah, he’s that type of boyfriend :’)

he despises his required classes, like english and math. he doesn’t understand it like he understands art, so he needs ur support!! please run ur fingers thru his hair when he’s whining about his weekly reading!

he loves ur relationship more than anything <3 he’s so happy he can spend his college years with u

-✰han

oh boy. how do we even start this.

i think he tries his best. he really does! he doesn’t want to be one of the few in his class failing, but he just doesn’t really grip onto learning the required subjects like english.

this is how u two met! u work for the university as a tutor, and han was required tutoring for english or else he would get dropped from the class :( he showed up to the tutoring session in an empty lobby in the main campus building, and as soon as he laid eyes on u, he cursed himself. he was supposed to be learning, how can he do that when he has the prettiest person in front of him!! :’(

even outside of ur sessions u help him all the time! he appreciates ur help so much, and of course he doesn’t want his partner to have to help him with his work 24/7, but u don’t mind at all.

his schedule is chaotic. wake up, go to class, go by the convenience store to get both of u snacks, come back to UR dorm, nap in UR bed, wake up when u get back from classes, walk around campus together, get dinner in the dining hall, then fall asleep at HIS dorm.

he always praises himself for choosing to live in a quad with his own room and praises u for working for the university so u get ur own dorm. “it’s like we knew we were going to date!”

he always shows his love and appreciation. power college couple <3

-✰felix

felix has the time of his life in college. he loves being independent, doing something new, and just taking it all in.

that’s why he decided to be ambitious his freshman year; getting a job right away at the campus cafe, and also continuing his hobby of dance by taking a freestyle dance elective!

u were also taking the elective class to try and get more in to ur passion for dance. u never felt too confident in ur skills, so what better way to improve than in a class with others that were learning too!

when felix walked in the room the first day of class, looking all professional in his beanie, oversized sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, u were immediately attracted… but also intimidated!! he must be so good (>:d) u guys actually got put as partners for ice breakers, then a partner project, then a mid-term project, realizing how genuine and sweet he is!!

let’s just say,, things got a lil close for ur projects. flirting was a given around him and kissing, definitely happened.

and even though his excitement for college was a 100! his grades… struggled to reflect that :( like others, college is hard to grasp sometimes!! u continued to help him and remind him that everyone is having a hard time too <3

another sickly sweet couple. he just can’t pry himself away from u!

-✰seungmin

i kinda feel like seungmin is like,, the perfect fit for uni boyfriend? he just gives off those vibes to me so much. (yes i am seungmin biased haha)

does he have all 100% in his classes? yes! does he procrastinate? hell yes…..that’s all he does. to try and help his problem, he wants to study with u! he thinks that this will help him focus more bc silence is always comfortable between u two. but it just ends up him playing some game and u watching, messing him up every time he’s close to passing the level.

if you guys have an in-person class together, he wants needs to sit by u. he doesn’t find it right that u don’t want to sit next to ur own boyfriend. how dare u actually want to listen to ur professor instead of engage in snarky side conversation the whole time >:(

he loves walking around campus late at night. not like, 2am but more like 10pm lol (cuz besides staying up for hw, i feel seungmin is an avid sleeper). after ur night class, he will meet u by ur dorm building and walk around, hands linked the whole time. this is the time where he’s affectionate and loves to talk about ur relationship aww!! it’s conversation like “i remember the first time i held ur hand”, and “we should have another takeout homework date in the library soon”.

i could literally go on and on about uni!seungmin bc it’s a perfect match ahh.

-✰i.n

high school classmates to college classmates! it might have been handy to know someone going into college…. if u and jeongin even knew who each other were.

“yang jeongin? he was in my homeroom? uhh-“

i.n thought that he didn’t need help going thru his first year. he wanted to be independent and make friends on his own >:( butttt with each passing day, adjusting to new classes and even his roommate moving out, he couldn’t even manage to talk to someone new for more than a minute.

u finally recognized him when u saw his academy hoodie he was wearing one day! u rushed to reach him before he entered the classroom, and when u two made eye contact… god jeongin thought the world stopped.

from then, u guys slowly started seeing each other more, than exchanging numbers, then hanging out! ur hangouts usually consisted of studying, but it always ended up in doing to the dining hall and eating together, staying in their right until it closed.

let’s just say, u both struggled in the homework department. but quizzes?? yang jeongin is, surprisingly, an academic weapon.

he loves quality time with u. staying up late, just being in each other arms and talking about nothing.

he will also most definitely require u to watch old minecraft videos with him. quality time right! :)

masterlist!

#sapphire’s log~#🎧#stray kids #kim seungmin #bang chan #hyunjin #lee felix #changbin #lee know #han jisung #yang jeongin #skz headcanons #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids soft thoughts

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nanamis-baker · 1 day

Text

The Bold Stroke

Chapter 2 | Whisper of the Petals

Pairing: philosophy student Geto x art student f!reader (College AU)

Summary: A mystery blooms on your doorstep. A breathtaking bouquet of white flowers, a silent whisper of apology… but it's not for you. Delivered under the name of a man so handsome he takes your breath away, the mix-up sets your heart racing.

Fate seems determined to keep throwing you together, and soon you're caught in a whirlwind of chance encounters and undeniable chemistry. It was almost as if it was trying to bring you together.

Status: Ongoing

Word Count: 10.2k

a/n: okayy it's here!! This chapter took me a while to write because writing conflicting emotions is something new for me lol.

But a big big bigg thank you to my girl @whereflowerswenttodie for reading and rereading it and helping me out with it!! 💙

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“So, are you meeting up with someone?” you asked Inumaki as you fixed your hair a little, the elevator mirror being perfect for it. The two of you were going to the library. Well, you were going to the library, and Inumaki had some work on the same floor, so he accompanied you.

Inumaki nodded, a small smile gracing his lips as the lift opened with a ding. The two of you went separate ways, waving each other goodbye as you went into the library. But as soon as you entered, your legs halted. What you saw was… unexpected, to say at least.

The library had transformed into a bustling marketplace of stressed students. Every table, including yours and Suguru's usual spot, was now occupied by unfamiliar faces. The studious quiet you'd craved was replaced by murmured arguments, frantic typing, and the occasional frustrated groan. This wasn't exactly how you'd envisioned making the presentation format with Suguru.

You had texted him earlier about the presentation format, but there was no way you could get any work done in this chaos. What could you do now? And what other option did you have? You could go to the cafe but-

Just then, a warm hand settled gently on your shoulder. You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat, only to find Suguru standing there, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he chuckled, his voice soothing amidst the library's chaos. You shook your head, the disappointment momentarily forgotten.

"No worries," you managed, forcing a smile. "But seriously, what do we do now?" You gestured towards the library, the silent question hanging heavy in the air.

Suguru's smile faltered, replaced by a knowing frown that mirrored your frustration. "I kind of expected this," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Apparently, a bunch of students submitted the same assignment, thinking they could fool their teacher."

A flicker of surprise shot through you. "The same assignment? How did you…"

"Long story," Suguru interrupted with a wry smile. "Let's just say the rumour mill at this school is efficient." He paused, his gaze flickering around the library before landing back on you. "The good news is, I might have a backup plan."

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in your eyes. "A backup plan, huh?" The unexpected turn of events had certainly piqued your interest.

Suguru chuckled, a hint of mischief dancing in his dark eyes. "It is a Top secret," he declared, smiling to himself. "But trust me, it's worth it." He reached for your bag, gently relieving you of the weight. "Just promise me you won't breathe a word of it to anyone."

"Can't guarantee anything until I know where we're going," you teased, the disappointment at the ruined library session fading with each passing moment.

Suguru grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. He reached out and gently grasped your arm, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine. Suddenly, the crowded library seemed miles away as Suguru led you on a detour.

The corridors twisted and turned, a confusing maze that would make recalling the route later impossible. You found yourself relying on Suguru's confident strides, a comfortable silence settling between you broken only by the rhythmic click of your shoes against the polished floor.

Finally, you arrived at a seemingly nondescript wall, the only hint of something unusual was a small, silver panel nestled discreetly within the plaster. Suguru pressed a button, and with a soft whirring sound, the elevator door slid open.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You had no idea this elevator even existed!

Suguru stepped inside, beckoning you to follow. It was a maintenance elevator, you realised. The cramped space barely accommodated the two of you comfortably, and the close proximity did little to deter you. He punched in a series of numbers on the keypad, and with a slight jerk, the elevator began its ascent.

"This elevator," you began, looking up at him, unable to contain your curiosity any longer. "How did you find it?"

Suguru chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he looked down to meet your eyes. "Let's just say Satoru and I stumbled upon it during an… 'unforeseen circumstance'?" He rubbed the back of his neck, a blush creeping up his cheeks at the memory. "Someone was rather displeased with us - him, actually - at the time. Finding this secret elevator was a happy accident." His gaze lingered on the keypad, “And figuring out the pin wasn’t difficult, especially when Satoru is with you,” He finished, smiling fondly at the memory. You found yourself smiling too.

The elevator came to a halt, the familiar ding echoing in your ear. With a sense of anticipation, you watched as the doors slid open, revealing a sight that took your breath away. No longer confined by the walls of the library, you found yourself standing on a rooftop terrace bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.

The sky stretched out before you like a canvas splashed with luminous hues of apricot and peach, with a hint of purple, the sun beginning its descent towards the horizon. Below, the sprawling campus unfolded like a miniature world, with buildings and pathways etched in the golden light. A gentle breeze ruffled your hair and caressed your skin, carrying with it the scent of drying leaves, with a hint of muskiness.

For a moment, you were speechless, captivated by the unexpected beauty that lay before you. Turning to Suguru, you found a wide grin plastered across your face.

"So this is what you meant by 'Top Secret'?" you exclaimed, your voice brimming with excitement.

Suguru chuckled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted, nodding confirmation. "This place is a bit of a hidden gem."

His gaze swept over your face, searching for your reaction. "Do you like it?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Like it, Geto?" you repeated, the question almost comical. "I absolutely love it!"

This secret terrace, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, felt worlds away from the unexpected chaos of the library. It was a private sanctuary, a place just for the two of you.

A satisfied smile spread across Suguru's face. "Good to know," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. He gestured towards a nearby bench, its weathered wood and faded brown paint promising a comfortable perch. "We should have plenty of light for some time now - enough to complete that presentation, at least."

Grateful for his thoughtfulness, you readily took a seat on the bench. Suguru settled himself beside you, the air crackling with newfound energy. "Perfect!" you declared, clapping your hands together. "Then let's get started."

The sun, it seemed, had a favourite today. You sat beside Geto, bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon light, as it casted a golden halo around you. He found himself mesmerised, his gaze drawn to the way the light danced on your skin, turning it a canvas of shimmering bronze. Each flicker in your eyes held a spark more captivating than any gemstone, a tiny fire that seemed to ignite a warmth deep within him.

A golden aura surrounded you, and in Geto's eyes, you became the most exquisite treasure the world had to offer.

He struggled to focus. Every few moments, his gaze would snag on the way the sunlight danced in your eyes, igniting a flicker that stole his attention. Geto found himself mumbling a request for you to repeat yourself. Surprisingly, you didn't seem annoyed, simply repeating your point with a gentle smile.

You intrigued him – a captivating puzzle he couldn't seem to solve. Your thoughts, a fascinating mix of unexpected angles and surprising echoes of his own, kept him constantly engaged. During discussions, you'd throw out a witty remark that had him stifling a laugh, a sharp observation that made him see the topic from a whole new perspective. He'd marvel at the way your mind effortlessly weaved humour and insightful analysis, a combination that felt refreshingly unique.

There was a depth to your intelligence that went beyond mere academic prowess. You possessed a genuine curiosity about the world, a thirst for knowledge that mirrored his own. He found himself drawn to your passion, the way your eyes would light up as you delved into a subject that truly interested you. It was as if you held a mirror to his soul, reflecting things he hadn't even realised were there.

The more he interacted with you, the more he realised how much he craved your presence. It wasn't just the conversations; there was a spark between you, an undeniable chemistry that left him both exhilarated and strangely vulnerable. He found himself wanting to impress you, to share his thoughts and ideas in the hopes of eliciting another one of those dazzling smiles.

"Okay!" you said, a triumphant smile lighting your face. The last rays of the setting sun cast a warm glow on the terrace, painting the cityscape in hues of lavender and gold. "We are done now," you declared, gathering your things. You turned to him, and your smile was even brighter, “Suguru, I can’t thank you enough for your help with this - I couldn’t have done this without you” Gratitude and sincerity shone brightly in your eyes, but that wasn't what held his attention.

Suguru. You had called him by his first name. It was a simple gesture - you probably didn't even realise it - yet it resonated within him like a physical touch. The sound echoed in the twilight, a melody far sweeter than the chirping crickets. He craved to hear it more and more.

"You don't have to thank me again and again, you know?" he managed, his voice a touch rougher than usual. He cleared his throat, hoping to dispel the unexpected feelings that bloomed within him. "I enjoyed working on this project too," he added, hoping to convey his sincerity. It was true – it had all been stimulating for him. But a deeper truth lurked beneath. He enjoyed simply being near you - in your presence.

A pang of sadness, sharp and sudden, twisted in his gut. Here he was, enjoying the afterglow of a shared experience, yet a looming shadow threatened to engulf it. The project, the reason you were here with him, was done. When would be the next time the two of you see each other? Would you, like the last rays of the sun dipping below the horizon, simply slip away too?

The weight of his unspoken thoughts pressed down on Suguru as you walked towards the elevator. The last embers of the sun had faded, leaving the sky a canvas of deepening indigo. As he reached to press the button, blinding darkness swallowed the world whole, leaving him momentarily disoriented.

"What happened...?" He heard you murmur, a whisper lost in the sudden quiet. Suguru turned towards your voice, his eyes straining to adjust to the absence of light. He found you, a faint silhouette framed by the faint glow of the rising moon.

Concern flickered across him. He couldn't see you clearly, but he didn’t miss the slight tremor in your voice. He gently grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours, hoping to calm you.

Needing to confirm his suspicions, he took a tentative step towards the railing and peered over. Darkness. Not just the terrace, but the entire university grounds were shrouded in an inky blackness. The distant hum of activity that usually filled the evening air had been replaced by an unsettling silence.

"There seems to be a power cut in the area," he replied gently, his voice sounding hollow in the darkness. "But don't worry, we should have power back soon." He said, but for some reason, he had a hard time believing his own words.

"Can we use the stairs or something?" you asked, the slight tremor he had heard in your voice earlier was still there.

"Unfortunately, no," he sighed. "Satoru and I found it earlier, but they are blocked - inaccessible."

You didn't say anything, but Suguru heard a small, defeated 'Oh' escape your lips.

"But don’t worry, we can go and sit on the bench?" he offered, trying to shake away your worries. He could see the outline of the bench as his eyes had started to adjust to the darkness.

"Yeah, let's go," you agreed. As he guided you towards the familiar wooden seat, he felt your hand tighten around his, drawing his attention towards you.

Suddenly, you stopped, your voice tinged with awe. "Suguru, look up!"

He followed your gaze, tilting his head back. And then he saw it. The unexpected darkness had stripped away the veil of artificial light, revealing a breathtaking spectacle he hadn't even realised he'd been missing. A vast expanse of midnight blue stretched above them, a canvas sprinkled with a million shimmering diamonds. The stars. So many stars, each one a tiny beacon in the infinite darkness.

The darkness, once unsettling, now felt strangely beautiful. He stole a glance at you, your face bathed in the ethereal glow of the starlight, a look of wonder mirrored in your eyes. Maybe this wasn’t a bad thing.

Not at all.

An unexpected idea sparked in Geto's mind. He gently released his hold on your hand and reached for his jacket. He knelt, spreading the garment on the cool ground, making sure it was properly spread out.

"Here," he said, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked up at you. He could see you better now, bathed in the faint moonlight, and a flicker of curiosity played across your features.

"What are you doing?" you asked, And Geto could hear the amusement in your voice.

"Come on," he said, extending out his hand, offering it to you in the dimness. "This way we can see the stars better, without straining your neck."

Understanding dawned on you, and a delighted smile spread on your lips, mirroring his own. Taking his hand, you allowed him to gently guide you down onto the makeshift blanket his jacket provided. A warmth spread through him as the two of you settled on the jacket, laying down side by side. Geto could feel the heat radiate from your body against his arm.

A comfortable silence descended, punctuated only by the occasional chirp of a cricket, a sound that seemed louder than usual in the quiet. Geto kept his hand intertwined with yours, the warmth of your skin a surprising comfort against his. His thumb, as if possessed by a will of its own, began tracing lazy circles on your palm.

Stealing glances at your face, bathed in the ethereal glow of the moon, Geto searched for any sign of unease, a flicker of disapproval that might suggest he had crossed a line. Thankfully, he found none.

"Suguru?" He heard you say, your voice, soft as the night breeze. He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze in the dim moonlight.

"You know," you began, a playful glint dancing in your eyes, "you never really told me why you were nose-deep in all those business books in the library that day."

A surprised chuckle escaped Geto's lips, despite the topic you were referring to. "Yeah? And you never told me why you chose to drown yourself in the world of arts," he countered, his voice betraying a hint of the unease he felt.

You let out a laugh, the gentle sound echoing in the dark. "Well, you never really asked!"

"But I am asking now," he countered, amusement dancing in his voice.

"Okay, okay," you said with a grin. "Fair enough. First, you answer my question, and then I'll answer yours. Deal?"

Geto hesitated for a beat, the darkness both a shield and a prompt. So Geto had to offer a part of himself to get to know you better - sounds interesting "Deal," he finally agreed.

You looked up at him expectantly and taking a deep breath, he decided to be honest. "The thing is," he began, trying to hide the disgust he felt about this topic, "those business books weren't exactly what I wanted to be reading. You see, my family owns a pharmaceutical company, one of the biggest in the country."

"Oh wow," you said, a hint of surprise in your voice, “I didn’t know that.”

"Yeah," he said, a humourless scoff escaping his lips. "They expect me to join the business after graduation. Here's the real thing though," he continued, feeling his voice drop low, "They see me as a puppet, someone to inherit their greed and continue their ruthless practices."

"What kind of practices?" he heard you ask, concern flickering in your voice.

He felt his jaw clench slightly, the darkness a welcome shroud for the anger simmering within him. "They price their life-saving drugs at exorbitant rates," he spat, the venom of his words sour on his tongue. "People who desperately need them can't afford them, all because of my family's insatiable thirst for profit. It goes against everything I believe in."

A heavy silence descended. He stole a glance at you, unsure how you'd react. But your expression was open, devoid of judgement, and held a flicker of understanding. It was an unspoken invitation to continue, a safe harbour for the storm of emotions brewing within him.

"They wouldn't listen to reason," he continued, his voice low and defeated. "I've tried, believe me. But logic and compassion seem to be foreign concepts in their world." But still, Geto had to do something right? "Maybe, just maybe, by learning their game, I can break this system and change it from within. But honestly," he admitted with a bitter laugh, "I don't even know if that's possible. Their control is absolute."

The darkness seemed to press in on him, a reflection of the despair that threatened to consume him. He yearned for a way out, a way to break free from the gilded cage his family had built for him.

Your hands squeezed his, bringing him back to the present. "That's a lot to carry," you finally said, your voice soft but firm. "The anger, the frustration, the feeling of helplessness." You paused, letting your words sink in. "But Suguru," you continued, your voice gaining strength, "don't let them steal your compassion, your beliefs. As long as you hold onto them, you’ll find a way. I know you will”

Geto smiled. You were so sweet, so kind, trying to comfort him. It was a small, tired smile, the kind that held the weight of the world but acknowledged a sliver of sunshine breaking through the clouds. Your words, laced with a quiet strength, resonated deep within him. It was true. He couldn't let their greed and corruption taint the core of who he was. But, at the same time, he knew it wasn't wise to hope for much when it came to his parents. Still, he wouldn't burden you anymore with his issue. Maybe a lighter topic would chase away the shadows that had crept into the conversation.

"You're right," he said, his voice regaining a touch of its earlier playfulness. "Now, answer my question from earlier." He raised an eyebrow in mock seriousness, hoping to lighten the mood.

He saw you smile, but it wasn't your usual, happy smile. A faint shadow flickered across your features, a subtle shift in your demeanour that sent a wave of unease through him. "I was in a car accident a few years ago - both my mom and I," you said, your voice softer than usual, your fingers twisting a loose thread on your shirt.

The playfulness drained from his face. An accident? The image of mangled metal and shattered glass flashed unbidden in his mind. "Oh," he stammered, unsure of what to say.

"Another car crashed into ours," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "The driver was drunk. Thankfully, the major impact was on my side, so my mom wasn't hurt too bad."

This wasn't what Geto was expecting to hear. He watched as you reached for your phone, a hollow feeling blooming in his chest. With slightly trembling fingers, you lifted the hem of your jeans, the phone's cool flashlight revealing a constellation of scars that snaked across your calves. Geto's mouth went dry.

You turned towards him, a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes. Hesitantly, you reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, revealing a faint scar that traced a jagged line along your hairline and the back of your neck. The moonlight glinted off the raised, pale flesh, a contrast to the smooth skin surrounding it.

Geto thought he had memorised the expanse of your face, every little detail like the map of a cherished land. But god, was he wrong. He had missed such a big part of you.

Shame washed over him in a sickening wave. He'd been so caught up in his own problems, that he hadn't noticed the silent stories etched across your body. His fingers moved to trace the scar, to feel it under his fingertips, but retracted his hand before it could reach you.

You continued, your voice quiet, "I was bedridden for months, Suguru. I couldn't even speak because a shard of glass had damaged my vocal cords. Hell, I wasn't even supposed to survive, but I did." You let out a humourless chuckle. "I could barely move, I couldn't speak at all, and the frustration – I can't even begin to tell you." You shook your head slightly, a ghost of the ordeal lingering in your eyes.

"My parents were worried, you know, and that's when I started painting," you continued. A small, bittersweet smile touched your lips. "It was horrible at first, of course," you added with a self-deprecating laugh, "but with time, I got better. It became my voice, a way to express the things I couldn't say. Even after I healed, I kept up with it. I wanted to know more – about other people's work, their thought processes, and why they painted what they painted. And so, I chose art as my major." You finished with a shrug as if it wasn’t a big deal or anything.

Geto didn't really know what to say. Words felt hollow compared to the weight of your story. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, the question tumbling out before he could stop it. He mentally face-palmed himself. Really? That was the best he could offer? It sounded insensitive, trivial even, in the face of what you'd been through.

You offered a small, understanding smile. "Sometimes," you admitted. "Not the scars themselves, thankfully. But half of my body is metal now, thanks to the accident. That gets achy sometimes, especially when the weather gets cold." As if on cue, a cool wind rustled through the leaves, and Geto saw the way you flinched so slightly, a shiver running down your body.

Geto's heart lurched. He cursed himself for his obliviousness. Here he was complaining about his family, while you carried the physical and emotional weight of a traumatic experience. Without thinking, he shifted closer, offering you the meagre comfort of his body heat. "Here, let me shield you from the wind a bit."

A warm smile graced your lips as you leaned into him slightly, accepting his support - accepting him. The gesture ignited a spark within Geto, a warmth blossoming in his chest that rivalled the one he offered.

Geto's fingers, which had hovered awkwardly in his lap, found themselves drawn to you again. This time though, they didn't hesitate. With tenderness, they brushed against the cool expanse of the scar on your temple, then trailed down to the faint jagged line along your neck. Your skin felt cold under his warm touch.

You inhaled sharply, your breath catching against his chest. Geto's touch was light, almost reverent, as if he were tracing a sacred map. He met your gaze, the moonlight and stars reflecting in your eyes like a million scattered diamonds. At that moment, it felt like he was peering into a whole new universe, one filled with unspoken stories and hidden depths. A universe he desperately wanted to explore, to get lost in, and maybe, just maybe, find a way back to, together.

His thumb grazed the soft skin of your jaw, a gentle nudge that tilted your face up a fraction. He wanted to see everything, to re-learn every detail etched on your face, the scars, the way the moonlight glinted off the moisture gathering in your eyes. He wanted to learn all your secrets, or at least the ones you were willing to share.

You responded instinctively, leaning in further until the space between you evaporated. Your warm breath mingled with his, a silent question hanging in the air. The stars seemed to wink in approval as the distance between your faces continued to shrink. Anticipation flickered in your darkened eyes, which then fluttered shut as Geto leaned in even closer. Slowly, the space between his lips and yours became nonexistent, a mere breath away.

Just as your lips were about to meet in a brush, The world erupted in a harsh burst of fluorescent light. Both of you jolted back, blinking away the temporary blindness.

It took Geto a moment to realise what had happened. He cleared his throat, the sound rough in the sudden quiet. "We got the power back," he mumbled, his voice thick with the unspoken desire that hung heavy in the air moments ago. His gaze darted away from you for a moment, then returned, searching your eyes for any indication of how you felt about the interrupted moment.

He took in your flushed cheek and your dilated, glossy eyes. That was all the indication he needed. A small, frustrated sigh escaped your lips. "Yeah," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment, the intimacy between the two of you, was shattered like a dropped glass, leaving behind a thousand shimmering shards of unspoken desire.

The silence stretched, heavy with what could have been. Geto watched as you began gathering your things, a subtle shift in your demeanour that spoke volumes. You turned to face him, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips despite the lingering frustration in your eyes. "We should go now, it's getting colder."

He nodded in agreement, his voice thick when he finally spoke. "Yeah, definitely." He grabbed his jacket and dusted it off, the simple action taking longer than necessary. He watched as you reached for your bag, then blurted out, "Here, let me get that," as he grabbed the bag, relieving you of the weight. It was the least he could do, anyway.

Geto had spent hours with you today, yet it felt like mere moments. "Let me walk you home, please," the words tumbled out before he could stop them, fueled by a desire to prolong this stolen time, this unexpected intimacy.

He held his breath, bracing himself for a polite refusal. But then, a bright smile bloomed on your face, a smile that lit up the terrace brighter than the harsh fluorescent lights that had shattered their moment. "Thank you, Suguru," you said, your voice soft but filled with a warmth that sent a thrill through him. "I'd like that."

“Okay, so what happened next? Did you invite him up?” Maki leaned forward, her eyes eager. She glanced at Yuta, who was also listening intently.

Your friends—minus Inumaki—were gathered at the campus café for a small celebration. You’d just received an A+ on your presentation, and of course, you had to share how Suguru's help had played a crucial role. The moment you mentioned his name, their ears visibly perked up.

It had been two weeks since that night on the rooftop, two agonisingly silent weeks. You and Suguru had barely exchanged any texts, and you hadn’t even seen him around campus.

A blush crept up your cheeks as you shook your head. “Of course not! It was just something we felt in the moment. I don’t think inviting him up would have been a wise decision.” You took a sip of your iced tea, the coolness soothing the flutter in your stomach. Every time you replayed the scene in your head, your heart skipped a little. But the silence that followed since then was deafening.

“It doesn’t sound like ‘something in the moment,’ especially with the way you described everything.” Yuta pointed out. One might think he wouldn’t be interested in such stuff, but when it came to his friends, Yuta was always supportive.

"Maybe," you admitted, the word tumbling out before you could stop it. The truth was, the interrupted kiss felt less like a missed opportunity and more like a promise waiting to be fulfilled. But what if you were reading too much into it? The thought sent a pang of disappointment through you, a feeling you quickly brushed aside.

Maki scoffed playfully. "Girl, you were practically glowing when you talked about him! And no one does what he did just to be friendly, you know."

Your cheeks burned even hotter. Maybe Maki was right. Maybe there was something between you and Suguru. A tiny flicker of hope ignited within you, but it was quickly washed away by a wave of uncertainty. Here you were, falling for him, yet his silence indicated that he probably regretted things—didn’t want it. But then the gentle look in his eyes, his silent support, and the way he held you oh so tenderly, shielding you from the cold...

Ugh, it was all so confusing. "But what if—"

Yuta cut you off with a gentle laugh. "Hey, you never know until you try, right? And besides, even if things don’t work out romantically, you made a great new friend. Win-win, I'd say."

You couldn’t help but smile at your friend’s statement. Yuta always knew how to see the bright side. Taking a deep breath, you decided to focus on the positive. Suguru was interesting, kind, and surprisingly easy to talk to. You could confide in him as a friend. But the way his touch comforted you, ignited you...well, that was definitely more than friendly.

"Yeah, you're right," you agreed, a newfound determination settling in your voice despite the nervousness you felt. "Maybe I'll just...see where things go."

Admitting it out loud felt a lot easier. "I like him, you know," you said, looking at your friends with a small smile. "He’s someone who seems to be interested in something that’s not superficial—like he wants to know me, understand me. And it just seems so rare for someone to be genuinely interested in you, right?"

Your friends looked at you with knowing smiles, a silent encouragement hanging in the air. It was probably more than just liking him, you knew. But admitting it out loud, even with just a hint of the deeper feelings swirling within you, felt like a huge step.

The art exhibition buzzed with a quiet energy. The gentle notes of classical music filled your ears, punctuated by the soft murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses from the nearby champagne bar.

You stood mesmerised in front of a large, abstract piece. It was a puzzle, quiet literally. Fractured squares of vibrant colours and captivating strokes hung on the stark white wall, making an incomplete puzzle, while its other pieces were scattered chaotically on the floor below. The missing pieces created a gaping emptiness in the artwork, a void that tugged at your emotions.

Was it a metaphor for loss - longing? a commentary on the incompleteness of experiences? You longed to discuss it with Yuta. He'd always loved puzzles; his apartment was filled with framed pieces of puzzles he had solved so far. His mind was a kaleidoscope of unconventional interpretations, making you look at things with a different perspective.

A pang of guilt lanced through you. You were supposed to visit this exhibition with your friends, but Maki wasn't feeling well. Yet, here you were, lost in the beauty of the artwork displayed. Although Yuta had assured you he was taking care of her, telling you to not miss this exhibition, a part of you still yearned to be by your friend's side.

“Intriguing, is it?” A voice interrupted your thought. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. The voice, once a source of comfort and playful teasing, now startled you. It was him, the man who had vanished after nearly kissing you under the twinkling stars, leaving you with nothing but lingering confusion and a heart full of unanswered questions.

And now, after almost two months, he was here, asking you this bloody question.

Suguru Geto.

Well, if he wants to play it this way, you can entertain him. After all, two can play this game. "It is," you began, your eyes finally meeting his. "But I'm trying to figure out what the artist is trying to show here."

Geto hummed thoughtfully. "You know what I think?" He paused. Was he expecting a response from you? Well, he wasn’t getting any. You remained silent, your gaze fixed on the artwork.

Undeterred, he continued, his voice taking on a philosophical tone. "This artwork seems to be a metaphor for life. Life throws pieces at you, like the ones scattered on the floor. It's all you need to make your life meaningful and beautiful. Opportunities, people, love..." he trailed off, the last word hanging in the air unspoken.

His gaze shifted back to the painting, his voice softer now. "But it's up to you how you make use of those pieces, to put in the effort to fit them together. If you're not careful, if you wait too long..." He paused again, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something akin to regret and longing passing through them. "The pieces might be lost to you forever."

You sucked in a breath. No, he couldn’t mean what you were thinking. After all, the only conversation the two of you had after hanging out on the terrace was when you told him about your assignment and the grade you scored.

Yes, you had texted him a couple of times after that, but the reply seemed…dry. So, you stopped, hoping Geto would reach out to you when he was ready, but the man beside you never bothered to do anything about it.

But your mind replayed the memory of how he held you that night, a tender embrace that spoke volumes without words. It was a gesture that made you feel cherished, as if you were his most prized possession, far above any material wealth the world could offer. And when you shared the news of your accident, his reaction was unexpected - a mixture of regret and concern, as though he wished he had been there for you, even though he didn't even know you at the time.

No.

You couldn’t allow yourself to go there again.

Not if he wouldn’t follow you, keeping up with you.

Your mind buzzed with Geto’s words, his interpretation of the art piece lingering in your thoughts like an unshakable presence. Was he a piece that life had flung your way, meant to enhance the beauty of your existence? Or did he hold some other significance, perhaps serving as a lesson - a piece that doesn’t enhance the beauty of the puzzle, but serves as a guiding force for other pieces? Was he a fleeting moment of joy, destined to fade into memory like the strokes of paint on a canvas? Or was he a constant, a steady presence meant to shape your journey, to teach you lessons you had yet to grasp?

Stop.

You wouldn’t allow yourself to go there. Not again and again.

This man almost kissed you after you told him one of the deepest truths about yourself, and then disappeared, leaving you alone to deal with the darkness so similar to the inky blackness of that night. But this time, even the stars weren’t there to keep you company.

Leaving the painting behind, you moved towards a different section of the exhibition. Here, the air shimmered with vibrant light. Holographic projections of the paintings danced around you, painting your surroundings with the artist's colourful strokes. These ethereal brushstrokes, magnified and swirling, seemed to come alive, transforming the space into a kaleidoscope of the artist's imagination.

However, the original artworks remained untouched. Hung on the wall next to their holographic counterparts, they offered a more tangible connection to the artist's hand, allowing you to study the physical texture of the canvas, the subtle nuances of the brushstrokes, and the deliberate choices of colour.

The projections painted your off-white dress in different colours, the fabric a soft caress against the skin of your calves as you walked from one painting to another.

Geto followed you closely behind as you navigated through the section, his silence a palpable presence behind your back. You felt his gaze track your movements, but you paid it no mind, completely enthralled by the painting before you.

It was a complete mess. It was a riot of colour, a whirlwind of strokes, a storm of emotions, yet it held you captive. The longer you stared, the more it seemed to transform, the chaos morphing and shifting before your very eyes. What initially appeared as a meaningless jumble began to hold meaning, revealing a hidden order within the frenzy. The chaos formed a structure - The structure within the chaos.

It was almost as if the holograms mirrored your feelings - Confusing, chaotic, shifting.

Lost in the painting's mesmerising chaos, you barely registered Geto's approach. He stood so close behind you that the warmth of his body radiated through your clothes, his upper arm brushing against your shoulder. His voice, soft and low, shattered the silence.

"What are you doing at this exhibition?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Turning around to face him, you finally took him in. Dressed in a brown turtleneck that mirrored the depths of his eyes, his attire accentuated their warm, inviting hue. He wore a casual blazer on top of it, the colour slightly lighter than the colour of his turtleneck. His raven hair, noticeably longer, was tied back in a simple half-bun, the remaining strands cascading down his shoulders. The change, subtle yet noticeable, added a touch of softness to his features.

But what stood out the most were the circles under his eyes and the hollowness of his face. Even as the holograms danced all over his face, they did nothing to conceal his worn-out state; they almost amplified it.

A pang of concern flickered in your chest, a fleeting thought about his well-being. However, you quickly pushed it aside. Geto was the one who decided not to keep in touch anymore, so now it wasn’t your job to be concerned.

But of course, it wasn’t easy to just get rid of your feelings for someone like they never existed, was it?

"This is an art exhibition, open to all," you finally answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "and in case you forgot, I am an art student, Geto." Your voice was filled with sarcasm, and Geto chuckled. You smiled sweetly at him as you asked, "What about you?"

"Well," he began, his voice laced with a playful drawl, "as someone just said, this is an art exhibition, open to all." He shrugged, smirking. You gave him one final, unamused look before your eyes turned back to the painting.

For a few minutes, neither of you said anything. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions and the lingering warmth of Geto's presence. Finally, he spoke, "What do you find so captivating about this painting?"

His voice, a soft melody laced with genuine wonder, resonated with a yearning that transcended mere curiosity. It was as if you held the key to answering the storm of questions swirling within him, your insights holding a weight far greater than anything else. A hunger to delve deeper, to peel back the layers of your being until he could see the very essence of you, consumed him.

A ghost of a smile danced on your lips. How could you deny the man who held such profound significance in your heart, the man who yearned to truly know you, to unravel your soul until there was nothing left to be discovered?

No, of course you couldn’t keep away, no matter how hard you tried.

Finally, you answered him. If he wanted a piece of your mind, you would gladly offer it to him. "For me, it’s those golden strokes," you began, "It was definitely a risky move for the painter. Those strokes could have ruined the painting, but it didn't. Instead, it made this painting what we see."

Geto hummed, "So, you feel like that stroke was a bold move for the painter?"

You nodded your head in response. Geto continued, "But what if that stroke ruined the painting?"

A slight smile played on your lips. "Well, then the painter would have learned something important. They'd know they could create the painting again if they wanted to, and that's a power in itself. They'd know they have the skill and the confidence to reach that level of greatness again." You looked him in the eye, your gaze pinning him, "Even if the stroke ended up ruining the painting, the artist could always put in the effort of making it again, and that in itself is a form of victory. They wouldn't be afraid to take that bold step again and again, till the painter gets what they want from the painting."

Geto's gaze drifted away for a moment, his brow furrowed slightly as he processed your words. It was as if he was engaged in an internal debate, weighing the implications of your statement against his own judgement.

“I wish I could look into your mind.” He finally said, his eyes slightly wide in wonder.

But oh Suguru, little did he know, he has been settled there since the two of you met in the cafe.

A soft buzz from Geto’s phone brought you out of your thoughts, making you realise how quiet it was around you. He pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen as he typed a message. As you watched him, the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and met your gaze. "It was good seeing you again," he said. Were you overthinking, or was his voice a touch more formal than before? "I have to go now. Enjoy the exhibition."

With that, he turned and walked away, his steps hurried, leaving you standing there with a lingering feeling of unease. You hadn't had a chance to say goodbye, and the abruptness of his departure left you wondering about your interaction with Geto.

Soon, you were done with the exhibition, the vibrant colours of the holograms still dancing behind your eyelids. Your mind buzzed with inspiration, the beauty of the paintings displayed sparking a flurry of ideas in your head.

The puzzle painting seemed to mock you as you passed it one last time, the question echoing in your mind: where did Geto fit in your life? What piece of the puzzle was he?

Exiting the building, you descended the stairs, the chill in the winter air making you shiver despite your sweater. As you reached the bottom, your steps slowed, coming to a halt. There was Geto, standing by the entrance. But he wasn't alone. He held a woman close, his arms wrapped tightly around her like he never wanted to let go. Her head rested against his chest, and his eyes were closed, almost nestled against her shoulder. The intimacy of their embrace was undeniable, a silent language of comfort and connection that spoke volumes.

Despite the prickling suspicion in your chest, you knew better than to jump to conclusions. This wasn't your place to pry. Yet, the image of their closeness branded itself into your brain, a searing feeling that left your heart burning.

"Well, don't you two look cute," a voice boomed. You looked up to see a man with white hair and sunglasses approaching them, a wide grin plastered on his face.

Gojo Satoru - the name echoed in your mind - Geto's best friend.

You watched as Geto and the woman pulled away, the woman playfully swatting Gojo's arm. But it wasn't the playful interaction that held your attention. Even from a distance, you could see the lingering longing in Geto's eyes as he looked at her.

It hit you like a punch to the gut. This was what he'd been preoccupied with. This is why he had kept you in the dark. This all felt like a cruel joke, life playing a twisted game on you. Of course he had a girlfriend - a guy like him probably had women lining up around the block.

You shook your head, a humourless chuckle escaping your lips as you made your way down the remaining stairs. Yeah, it was pretty obvious what kind of piece Geto was. A missing piece, a piece that belonged to someone else's puzzle, not yours.

You stood outside maki’s wooden front door, finger hovering over the buzzer. But, before you could ring, the door swung open, its hinges creaking slightly as familiar black, tousled hair came into the view.

Yuta lifted his head, momentarily startled to see someone standing right outside the door, before his eyes met yours. A small smile graced his lips. You took note of the black duffle bag hanging on his shoulder.

You returned his smile, “Leaving now?” you asked him, watching as a small blush crept up his cheek. “Yeah, Maki is feeling better now, so I figured I should go home.” He answered, relief clouding in his eyes before his expression turned curious, “Oh, how was the exhibition yesterday? Again, I am so sorry we couldn’t make it.”

You shook your head, dismissing his apology. “No need to apologise, Yuta.” Despite the events of last night, you found yourself smiling. After all, you saw some works by your favourite artists. You cannot let a man - no matter how much he meant to you - ruin something that you have been looking forward to so eagerly.

“The exhibition was great, Yuta,” You said, as you told him about the puzzle artwork. “I really missed you guys there, you would have loved it too.” You finished, hoping to convey your sincerity with your words.

Yuta’s eyes lit up and his smile widened, “That sounds amazing! I hope next time all of us can go” He said, before gesturing towards his bag, “Anyways, I gotta go now - Maki’s in her room, by the way.” With a final wave, he moved towards the front door, the door shutting behind him as he left Maki’s apartment.

You made your way towards her room, the minty smell of ointment filling your nose. You found Maki sitting on her bed with a small crochet blanket draped over her legs. The vibrant colours of the blanket reminded you of summer.

Maki looked up when you approached, a small chuckle leaving her lips as she rolled her eyes, inviting you to sit on the bed. “I knew I would see your face today.” she said, causing you to smile. Her voice today was a far cry from the shaky, tired voice she had yesterday.

Yeah, Yuta was right, Maki was definitely feeling better.

You also noticed that some colour has returned to her face, and Maki looked better now than she did at college, and this observation somehow soothed and comforted you. You enquired about her well-being and got to know that Maki had a cold and fever, but thanks to Yuta’s support, she was feeling far better.

Oh, Speaking of Yuta…

“So Yuta stayed the night, huh?” You finally asked, an eyebrow raised and a smirk gracing your lips.

Maki rolled her eyes again but she didn’t shy away from the topic. You watched as the top of her cheeks turned slightly pink. It was a rare sight, something you found so cute. Both Yuta and Maki had a similar reaction to a similar situation.

“Yeah, he was just making sure the fever doesn't get worse or anything,” she said, a small smile on her lips as if she was recalling last night. “He was really sweet about it, actually.” She said it as if she just realised it too.

You smiled for your friends, “So, do you want something with him?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Maki’s expression turned thoughtful, though a hint of playfulness remained, “I do like him,” She admitted. There was no hesitancy in her voice. “But I don’t want to force things with him or anything. Just go with the flow, you know?” She met your eyes as she said, “Besides, he is a great friend - that matters above everything else.”

You admired Maki’s clarity. She knew what she wanted.

Nodding your head in response, you reached out to squeeze Maki's hand. But just then Maki let out a small cough. You quickly reached for the glass of water on her bedside table and handed it to her, "Here, take a sip of this."

After a few sips, a sigh of relief escaped her lips. "Alright," she said, her voice slightly raspy, "enough about me. Tell me what’s going on between you and that Geto guy?" Her gaze, even dimmed by illness, held its usual unwavering intensity. It burrowed into yours, leaving no room for secrets. “And don’t lie, I can tell something is bothering you.”

Your heart sank at the mention of Geto's name, the emotions from last night bubbling back to the surface. You avoided them, though. "I think he's seeing someone else," you admitted with a bitter chuckle.

Maki's frown mirrored your own confusion. "But from what you told me…?"

"Yeah, I know," you sighed, your voice heavy with resignation. "But then again, we didn’t speak for two months. I don’t really blame him for pursuing someone else."

But the ache in your chest refused to dissipate, stubbornly clinging to the remnants of hope you had tried to bury.

You recounted the events of the exhibition, the cryptic nature of Suguru's words, and the sight of him with another woman. Maki listened attentively, her unwavering gaze conveying understanding as you poured your heart out to her.

Maki sighed, her disappointment evident in the furrow of her brow. “The woman you are talking about,” she began, her tone tinged with frustration, “I think I saw her and Geto at a cafe - the description sounds the same. But I didn’t think much of it because I just assumed they were friends or something.” Another sigh escaped her lips, laden with exasperation. “But from what you're saying… man, that guy is so clueless!”

"Now, there’s no point in that anyway," you murmured, your shoulders slumping as you shook your head. "I’m just disappointed because I thought we had something, but I guess I just misunderstood things."

Maki's eyes flashed with indignation. “I saw the way he looked at you in the cafeteria - like a teenage boy looking at his first crush. It was so sweet it was almost disgusting,” she said, her nose scrunching up slightly. “So no, you did not misunderstand things. That guy turned out to be an asshole.”

Maki reached out and squeezed your hand, a gesture so unexpected from her that it caught you off guard. “You deserve better than someone who doesn’t know what he wants.” Her gaze was intense, taking in your slumped shoulders and tired eyes. “You know what?” she began, determination clear in her voice. “Give me your phone.”

“You are not texting him,” you said sternly, though you unlocked your phone and handed it to her anyway.

“Of course not,” she replied with a humourless chuckle. “He isn’t worth my time.” You rolled your eyes at her statement, but the corners of your lips twitched upwards, feeling a bit of the weight lifting off your shoulders.

You peeked over your phone, curiosity getting the better of you. Maki was busy downloading - “A dating app?” you asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Maki nodded in response, her fingers flying over the screen as she added a description and prompts to your profile. “But Maki, I don’t want to date someone just like that,” you protested.

“You deserve to meet someone new and exciting. It doesn’t have to be serious,” Maki replied, her voice firm but caring.

You had never used dating apps before, so you felt hesitant to try it out. The idea of swiping left and right felt strange, almost impersonal. But another part of you was curious to see how things would turn out. After all, college was ending soon, you had barely dated anyone until now, and then the thing with Geto...

Maki looked up from the phone, her expression softening slightly. “I know it feels weird, but sometimes you need to step out of your comfort zone. Just give it a try. If you don’t like it, you can always delete it.” She angled the phone towards you, the dating app now downloaded and ready to go. “Think of it as an adventure. You never know what might happen.”

Maki began swiping for you, her eyes occasionally flicking up to check your reaction. One particular profile caught your eye. “Wait!” you stopped her just as she was about to remove the profile.

“What? Him? Really?” Maki asked, her nose scrunching up in mild disgust.

“Hey, he looks good, okay? But that’s not the point,” you said, leaning in to get a better look. The picture of a familiar white-haired man stared back at you. “That’s Geto’s best friend, Gojo.” You told her, swiping down on the profile to see more.

You came across a picture of him and Geto, seemingly from a beach trip. Both of them were wearing floral shirts and sporting big grins. The sight of them together stirred a mix of emotions within you. The carefree happiness on Geto's face contrasted sharply with the confusion and heartache you felt.

The text with the picture read:

Yeah, that’s my best friend, but you won’t find him here. His heart is already taken, but mine isn’t ;)

You shook your head, ignoring the icy feeling that crawled up your veins; a feeling that didn’t have anything to do with the cold, biting wind outside. After a few more swipes, you got some matches. Maki took over, texting them on your behalf.

“‘Are you free tomorrow?’” Maki read the text from one of your matches out loud. Yeah, you were free, but was it wise to go out with someone you barely knew? As if sensing your hesitation, Maki said, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but I think you should.” Then, she added, “It might help you deal with your feelings for Geto.” You noticed a hint of bitterness when she said his name, as if it left a sour taste in her mouth.

You bit your lip, considering her words. Maki has always been your rock, her advice helping you through the toughest situations. Finally making up your mind, you said, “Yeah, I guess I’ll go out with him - see how it is.” Then, with a teasing tone you said, your voice light, “But I am going only for you.”

Maki smiled at you, her expression lightening. “Great! I’ll text him then.” Her tone turned serious. “But keep texting me, okay? He seems okay, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be worried about you.”

You smiled at your friend’s protectiveness. “Yeah, I will Maki, don’t worry about it.”

A small part of you felt like this was wrong, especially since there was no communication between you and Geto to clear things up. But he had started dating someone else, hadn’t he? His heart was already taken, wasn’t it? So did it matter what you felt for him? Clearly, it didn’t mean anything to him, so the sooner you got over it, the better it would be for you.

The sudden crack of lightning jolted you, sending a streak of black liquid across your eyelid just as you were applying your eyeliner. A muted curse escaped your lips as you grabbed a makeup wipe, determined to fix the line. But the damage was done – a dark smudge now decorated your under-eye. With a sigh, you opted for a clean look, wiping away the eyeliner completely.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed by a low rumble of thunder. Your brow furrowed as you pulled on your clothes for the date. Winter rain was a rarity, but the damp air and earthy scent were unmistakable signs of a downpour.

You had to hurry now. Getting caught in a winter rain shower was the last thing you wanted, especially with your already achy legs. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that you were looking presentable. Despite the eyeliner disaster, you felt satisfied with your hair and makeup.

You made your way towards the restaurant, taking the subway. As you emerged from the station, the warm, stale air was replaced by a blast of icy wind that stole your breath. It was raining now, but thankfully it was misty; the droplets of water barely felt like anything. The rain clung around your face, blurring the city lights into shimmering halos. The rhythmic rumble of the train faded behind you, replaced by the traffic honks and the murmur of people walking around.

Your legs felt like lead as you trudged towards the restaurant. You'd chosen a cosy Italian place that was a little far from your apartment. Your date had insisted on a ‘middle point’ since he lived far away from your place, and you couldn’t protest.

Doubt gnawed at you. Was this the right way to get over Geto? The memory of his supportive glances and gentle laugh sent a pang through your chest. This date with someone you barely knew, suddenly felt like a flimsy shield against a tidal wave of longing. Yes, you and your date had exchanged some text, but could you really judge a person just through texts? But cancelling now felt like a betrayal – you couldn’t bring yourself to leave someone hanging like that while they waited for you.

With that in mind, you pushed open the glass doors of the restaurant. The smell of molten cheese and basil greeting you, followed by the gentle clink of glasses and happy murmurs. The whole place was bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights.

Once inside, you navigated through the crowded space until you spotted a familiar-looking face. Your date's blond hair was combed neatly, but there was something different about his hair compared to the pictures you saw. Still, you paid it no mind as you made your way to the table.

As you reached the table, you noticed an almost empty lowball glass that sat in front of him. It had a single ice cube clinging to the bottom of what appeared to be bourbon, given by its amber colour. Before you could dwell on the obvious red flag, dark hazel eyes met yours.

You forced out a smile. “Hey, you must be –”

The words died on your lips as he cut you off, his voice clipped. "You're late."

Huh?

I know things take a turn here, and even I wasn't expecting this to happen but it just happened, to the point I had to change the storyline lol

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Looking forward to your feedback 🌷

@whereflowerswenttodie @celestie0 @lostfracturess @nakariabnrb @yungbloode

@peppertoastuniverse @hopefulpeachcolor

Stained glass and heart dividers by @/saradika

Line divider by @benkeibear

Galaxy divider by @/cafekitsune

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babymochibeargyu · 18 days

Text

Through Your Eyes part 1

POV:you’re beomgyu’s bestie majoring in photography and video editing

wc:~1.4k

a/n: saw this on tiktok, and thought i would write something because please this man has my whole heart(and i love creating fake scenarios in my head)😩also halfway through the story i realized i didn’t hear the cover with eng subtitles, and omg the story im writing really fits the concept ahh!! Enjoy!

You and Beomgyu go way back to elementary school.

You were the new student in town and you transferred in the middle of the year. At this rate, you thought that it would be kinda difficult to make any friends because, during introductions, you found that the gazes of your new classmates weren’t that friendly.

Luckily, when you were assigned your seat, you were placed right beside the class president(everyone was fighting to be placed beside him so the teacher had to assign him to sit alone.)

As you were walking towards your assigned seat, you realized that he had really cute features and a kind face, and you thought to yourself:

“Please just let me make one friend and I’ll be able to make it through elementary.”

Before you sat down, you were thinking of ways on how to start a conversation with your new seat partner as you usually keep to yourself and aren’t good at making the first move.

But it was like Beomgyu had read your mind. Once you were seated, you felt his figure turn towards you reaching out for a handshake.

“Hi I’m Beomgyu”

“Hi Beomgyu, I’m Y/N.”

“Let’s be friends,” he said.

“I would like that very much” I replied.

So with that said, Beomgyu kept to his word and you guys were the best of friends. Even though throughout elementary school, whenever there were changes in classes, without fail, Gyu will always make sure to have lunch with you during your breaks. And you guys will always wait for each other at the school entrance to walk back home together.

timeskip~

You guys graduated elementary school and managed to get into the same high school, Hanlim Arts High School.

For the first year you were there, honestly, you were pretty clueless about what you wanted to pursue in life. However Gyu, already knew that he wanted to pursue music and dance. So whenever he had time he would go and work on himself, and he would invite you to watch him perform. You could say that you were his first fan.

The way he sang and danced, really evoked emotions that you have never felt before. It felt like the performance was doing the storytelling itself.

During one of his practices, you decided to record his performance. The way he moves, and his facial expressions when he dances, you wanted to capture everything. You wanted others to see Gyu through your lenses. And that’s when you realized what you wanted to pursue.

Videography.

You told Gyu about your newfound passion and he couldn’t help but blush because you managed to find something you were interested in because of him. And he liked the idea.

The time came for you guys to choose your major and naturally, you both weren’t in the same class. But that doesn’t put a stop to your friendship.

Any opportunity given, Gyu will always invite you to come watch him practice and he would ask you to record his performance even before you ask him for permission.

As you frequently visited Gyu to watch his practices, you didn’t realize that he had matured into this beautiful man compared to the first time you met him.

He was this cute boy with a friendly face but now he had changed into someone who captured the hearts of anyone no matter where he walked.

I guess you could say that you felt love for him only in a platonic way. But that changed when your classmates started to ask whether anything was going on between you and Gyu. Because you would always disappear once classes end and they never got to hang out with you.

You thought to yourself, why now? When all this time during year 2, no one bothered where you went after classes. The thought lingered in your mind as you made your way to Gyu’s practice session.

As you were recording Gyu's practice, you couldn’t help but think of why your classmates said what they said. Are you and Gyu, dating? That would be like dating my brother you thought to yourself.

While you were having these thoughts to yourself, you’ve never realized it but Gyu was always keeping his eyes on you as he performed(through the mirror reflection). One shift in your mood and he would drop everything.

And seeing you not focusing on him when he was practicing, kinda made him worry because you were always focused when he was practicing in front of you.

So even though the music stopped (which you did not notice because you were so lost in your train of thought) Gyu had already walked up to you, squatted down, and placed his face directly in front of you, leaving a little gap between you two.

When you were finally out of your trance, you shifted back as the proximity of his face with yours startled you.

He was confused as to why you did that but he just brushed it off and asked what you were thinking about that you didn’t even notice that he had stopped practicing.

You didn’t want to say the real reason but best friends don’t keep secrets from each other right? So you decided to tell him the truth about what your friends said, asking whether you guys were dating.

When Gyu heard that, he could feel his ears starting to get hot and he saw himself getting red in the mirror. So he tries to hide it with his hands by faking a cough so you wouldn’t catch on.

“I mean us dating? That would be weird” you said.

Gyu just laughs and says “Yeah so weird. Why would anyone think that?”

But deep down he knows why your classmates had asked you whether you guys were dating.

You’ve never noticed it as your seat was near the windows where you could see your school courtyard, however, there were times that Gyu would take the long way back to his class just so that he could see you (on days when he didn’t have practice). He would tell your classmates not to call for you whenever he came so that he could just admire you from afar. Because even though he knows his feelings for you existed, he didn’t want to act on them and ruin the friendship as he didn’t know whether you liked him back.

2 times a week turned to 3,4 sometimes he would pass by your class every day just that you wouldn’t notice. Just a glimpse of you and that could turn his whole day around. And that was why your classmates asked you whether you guys were dating, but you still did not have a clue about it.

Days, weeks, and months passed and you guys were finally off to college. Gyu’s classes involved composition writing, recording for music, and acting. And for you, you decided to continue in videography and video editing.

One of his assignments he had to complete was to shoot a music video while also recording the vocals of a new/cover song. So of course he went to the best person for this assignment. You! His amazing best friend who majors in videography.

Of course you accept, because now that you guys are in college, you guys don’t get to hang out as much anymore.

Gyu decided on a Japanese song and he told you the ideas of what he wanted to appear in the cover music video.

During one of the shots, he suggested doing a wide shot with him standing in the middle while looking at the camera. However, you suggested doing a tighter shot of him.

You gave him the instruction to show love and yearning. You told him to imagine that the camera is someone that he loves and he did just that, even better than you imagined.

While you were recording the shot, it felt like his eyes were on you the entire time. That whatever he was conveying through his eyes was all for you. It felt so genuine and innocent that honestly in that moment, you realized that you had denied your feelings for him. However, you didn’t want to expect anything and just told him what a great shot that was and his acting skills were fantastic.

Little did you know that he didn’t even need to pretend to show love and yearning. Because the person he had feelings for was right in front of him.

masterlist

Read Part 2 here!

#beomgyu x reader #beomgyu soft hours #txt beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #txt x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x you #choi beomgyu fluff #txt fluff #txt

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sseatherny · 7 months

Text

I THINK HE KNOWS

📷 05 — I'll be in your care

You find yourself waking up earlier than usual. Your mind is immediately consumed by thoughts of everything that may unfold later in the day. You couldn't help but feel excited. After almost 3 years of pining, you're finally given a chance to talk to Sae.

As you rushed to get ready, you noticed that you were putting in extra effort into fixing yourself. For some unexplained reason, you felt the need to look your best. Shaking your head, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and whispered, “I'm only doing this for the project.”

Upon your arrival at school, you spot Bachira and Rin, with Rin seemingly getting annoyed by Bachira's antics. You approach the duo and pat them both on the back, prompting Bachira to tease you, asking you why you aren't wearing a wedding gown. Just as you were planning to respond, your alarm goes off, causing you to feel embarrassed.

Quickly shutting off the alarm, you hear Bachira let out a laugh. “Pfft, dreamy jazz, huh?”

You glared at him, and Rin sighed, watching the both of you. “How mature,” he thought. He checks his watch and says that it's time for class.

“I'll see you later.” He waves goodbye before heading off, leaving you with Bachira, who is still laughing.

[ 📷 ` ]

As the lecture came to a close, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. You had just endured a grueling 4-hour lecture, and you were eager for a break. As you were about to bury your head in your arms, your phone vibrated with a message from Rin.

“Who is it?” Bachira asked out of curiosity, tilting his head.

“It's Rin. He wants to meet us outside,” you replied as you began packing your things.

Bachira didn't ask any more questions and soon followed suit, packing up his things as well.

While the two of you were making your way out of the room, Rin was waiting for you outside. Already looking impatient. He began to walk before you even had the chance to say something.

“Where are we going, Rin?” You asked as you tried to catch up with him.

“I thought you wanted to talk with Sae?” Rin answered, furrowing his brows. Upon hearing his response, you froze in your spot, feeling nervous and excited all at once. Bachira, who noticed your nervousness, made an attempt to lighten the mood.

“You look like you're about to take a dump, lol,” He said, trying to make you laugh.

Of course, it didn't work.

“Shut up, you're not helping,” you glared.

After walking for over 15 minutes, Rin stopped and looked at you.

“Ready?” He asked. You gave him a thumbs up and tried to force a smile. Rin didn't say anything and just walked towards the door of Sae's class, which, luckily, was open.

Shidou, who was zoning out, saw the younger Itoshi outside, causing him to tap the older Itoshi's shoulder, getting his attention.

“What?” Sae replied, looking irritated.

“Your brother is outside,” Shidou answered, pointing at Rin. Upon seeing Rin, Sae stood up nearly immediately and walked towards him.

“Someone wants to talk to you,” Rin said to his brother.

“It's not a fan that's going to confess their love to you. Don't worry,” Rin added before turning to you, nodding his head, and signaling you to start talking to Sae.

“Hi! My name is Yn, and I'm a student in Ms. Rosedale's art class. We've been tasked with finding a model for our final project, and Ms. Rosedale suggested that you would be perfect for the job. So I was wondering if you'd be interested in being my model for the project. No pressure, of course! Feel free to decline if you're not interested. I completely understand.” You speak politely, forcing yourself to not smile like an idiot while speaking to Sae.

“Is it right now?” He asks as you finish speaking.

“Oh, no, no. It doesn't have to be right now,” you replied, shaking your head.

The student model asked several more questions about the project before finally nodding.

“Alright then. I'll be in your care. I look forward to working with you, Yn.”

SUMMARY. After being assigned the task of finding a model for a project, you, a student photographer, have to face the challenging task of approaching and persuading Itoshi Sae, whom you have a crush on, to be your model. Working with Sae is a huge opportunity to add a renowned name to your portfolio. The pressure and responsibility are real, but so is the chance to achieve something great.

MASTERLIST :: PREV :: NEXT

🏷️ TAGLIST. @hioriyosgf @melon-garden @asmosdearest @kaitfae @kiopanxp @marvelisttea @nhularin @91ed0 @kascar-chronicle @celestair @saesofficialwife @hellothere9597 @nymphsdomain @saeskiss @karmatiz @msameikanevaeh @pinksodacan @fabitheraven @scaraslover @yyoichisgirl @tamimemo @chaosinanutshell @lilactaro @kaiserkisser @arxliana @neiiuna @wheresmysoulidk @dcvilxswish @seikaitoshi @kalopsiaame

NOTE If your @ is in italics, it means that I can't tag you. :⁠-⁠(

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock smau #bllk smau #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock imagines #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #sae x you #itoshi sae x you #sae fluff #sae imagines #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you

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missmonsters2 · 1 year

Text

First/Second Date Jitters | WDoE Epilogue 1

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: As Wednesday promises, she re-plans the date the two of you missed. She's meticulous in planning every aspect because if you don't show up this time for whatever reason, she might chain you to her for the rest of your life.

Warnings: Fluff. Enid, playing bodyguard. Wednesday, is overbearing. Scream crossover? Text message posts.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: i love these two idiots.

Part 10

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"This is really unnecessary."

"Don't move," Enid stops painting your nails for half a second to give you a look before resuming. "And don't blame me. Wednesday's the one who's all paranoid about leaving you alone."

You give a nervous chuckle.

You've only started returning to class recently after reviewing all the notes Wednesday took for you. You were lucky enough to be either given an extension on assignments you missed or given a pass since you were a stellar student.

Things are slowly returning back to normal. There had been plenty of gossip about Henry's expulsion. Of course, given his family's status, bail was posted, which his father immediately paid so his son could be locked in his own home. There won't be a trial as Weems was very firm about what would happen if Morrison Sr didn't work to take a plea bargain.

It was only two weeks in that Wednesday declared you were to meet her this Saturday at 7PM sharp, and if you were even half a second late...there would be consequences. You smiled at Wednesday, kissing her cheek at the time, thinking her antics were cute.

But unfortunately, with Saturday here, you find yourself unable to have a moment alone. Enid has been with you all morning, not letting you out of her sight for even a second. Not even when you went to the washroom.

"Are you sure you don't have anything better to do? I thought you were also supposed to be having a date with Ajax today. I'm just going to hang out here," you offer Enid. It's rare to see her without Yoko or Ajax.

Enid sighs. "No, it's fine. Ajax's been busy lately." Enid gives you a look, a quirk on her brow. "And you hanging out alone was why you got fairy-napped last time. Wednesday will erase my existence from this universe if I leave you alone here, even if it's in our room."

You can hear the forlorn dejection in Enid's sigh, and you look at her curiously. "Are things not going well with Ajax? I thought things were going well just a few weeks ago."

Enid scrunches her nose, seemingly trying to focus on painting your pinky nail. It's silent initially as the normally exuberant werewolf gathers her thoughts.

"It's not..." Enid sighs with mild frustration, letting out a puff of breath. "It's not that it's not going well. It just feels like we're...drifting. Ajax has his friend group and after-school activities, and so do I. All we seem to do when we hang out is make out, which, don't get me wrong, was awesome at first. But now..." Enid's voice drifts at the end.

"It's not enough?" You offer, and Enid reluctantly nods.

"Why don't you ask him on a date?" You suggest curiously. Enid was so outgoing; you couldn't imagine her not asking someone out if she wanted to.

Enid purses her lips. "Well, the thing is...I feel like I was the first to tell him I was interested and basically hinted he needed to ask me out on a date. I just want him to, like, take the initiative for once."

"I see," you hum, mulling over the blonde's answer. "Then, will you break up?"

"You ask really hard questions," Enid groans, gently setting your hand down now that she's finished painting your nails.

You study them, admiring the black nail polish with a white accent on your ring fingers. On the white nail, Enid had drawn nail art of wings in black. It was simple, yet you found yourself feeling joyful.

"Thanks, Enid," you smile at her, and Enid beams at you back.

"To answer your question," Enid puts away the nail polish and adjusts herself to sit more comfortably while you're careful not to smudge your nails. "No, I'm not going to break up with him. I just...I guess I'll need to talk to him first."

"Very wise."

Enid pinches your sides, which causes you to yelp in surprise. "Alright, miss bliss, I get you're on cloud nine with your relationship." She gives you a warning look. "Don't tell Wednesday."

"You don't want your boyfriend to become roadkill?"

"Where would Wednesday get a car?"

"I'm sure my girlfriend will be the first person to use a Poe Cup boat to turn someone into roadkill."

Enid gags a little, dramatically throwing herself back onto her bed. "I think I'd rather her just nailgun his heart..."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday stares at the space before her in deep, analytical thought. She plans to recreate what she's done the evening the date was originally supposed to happen had you not been taken.

Only this time, Wednesday was planning to have the date in your room instead of hers and Enid's. There was a particular appeal about having the space and time alone with you, uninterrupted by the possibility of Enid returning to their shared room early for whatever reason.

Wednesday has noticed that her roommate spends less time with her boyfriend. But since she had no desire to get into that conversation about Enid's feelings unless there was a reason to murder, Wednesday wasn't going to bring it up.

Wednesday feels a tap on her ankle, and she looks down to see Thing pointing at the small gap between the end of your bed and the wall.

"Good idea, Thing," Wednesday praises as she lifts the screen projector and angles it so that it will fit between the spaces.

Your wings were still healing, and Wednesday considered the fact that having the space for you to lie around with your wings out would be beneficial.

Honestly, it would've been better to utilize your studio space, but you've been weirdly insistent about being holed up in your room as of late. A part of Wednesday wonders if it's because you're reluctant to return to your space that no longer feels safe.

The thought of it has Wednesday gripping the pole of the projector tightly, wishing she had done more than gouge out Henry's eyes. She should've taken out his tongue and his thumbs as well. Wednesday feels regretful.

"Thing, did you get the lights?"

Thing scuddles to the corner of the room before he starts dragging out a plastic bag.

"And where did you get it?"

There are some hand gestures, and Wednesday scoffs. "Of course, Xavier would have them. Grab the tape and we'll start hanging these up."

While Thing is busy, Wednesday mulls over what's been nagging at her for the past half hour.

It's not that Wednesday feels fear. No, fear is irrational, and it was definitely irrational to dread not knowing your whereabouts when she knew Enid was with you.

Still, Wednesday pulls the phone out of her pocket, glaring at the stupid device. She sees that she has multiple texts from Eugene and Xavier that she ignores before she shoots you a text.

Immediately, there's a buzz from under your pillow.

Wednesday promptly walks over and sticks her hand under your pillow, swiping until she hits something solid. When she retracts her hand, she finds your phone in it. Her eye momentarily twitches as she lets out a deep, annoyed sigh from her nose.

Wednesday shoots another text from her phone, and the reply is prompt.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"OMG, I can't wait for you two to get on with your date," Enid groans, tossing her phone further down the bed.

You turn your attention away from Enid's laptop screen. Enid says that if Wednesday was culturing you on murder-y films and documentaries, she would catch you up on pop culture. Hence, you were currently watching Mean Girls with a deep interest.

"What's wrong?" You ask Enid, eyeing her phone that seemed to buzz every fifteen minutes for the last hour.

"What's wrong is that your girlfriend is psychotically paranoid that I can't keep you safe and you've forgotten your own phone back in your own room!" Enid grabs a pillow and smushes it against her face. "This is why having a phone is important! But I almost want to kill Xavier for getting Wednesday one. Only she would be able to find a way to torture me with my beloved technology."

You give Enid an amused look, reaching to grab her phone. You swipe at the notification, but the passcode screen comes up.

"1031, it's when Yoko and I became friends," Enid's answer was muffled by her pillow.

You merely raise your brow at the information but enter the passcode.

The text you see...baffle you.

You can't help but slightly laugh while Enid glares at you, tossing a pillow at you but carefully ensuring it isn't too rough.

"Laugh all you want, but I have half a mind to make you late for your date tonight. See how funny you think it is when Wednesday chains you to her for the rest of your life. Think how easy it will be to go to the bathroom in that situation."

You stop laughing.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

6:50PM.

Wednesday carefully checks over her preparations for the last time. The food was hot, the movie marathon was set up, and Wednesday turned on the fairy lights while Thing turned off the ceiling light.

Wednesday opens your window slightly, knowing you like a light breeze before she lit the candles she placed around your room.

The time grows closer, and Wednesday feels antsy as she thrums her fingers against your desk.

Wednesday has to refrain from texting Enid again. She admits she enjoyed torturing Enid with her timely texts, but eventually, her roommate put her foot down and told Wednesday she would text if there were any issues and then stopped replying.

This was why phones were so unreliable.

"Thing—" Wednesday starts to say, but the disembodied hand is already scuttling off to go grab you. She sighs and relents that she was just ensuring you would arrive in a timely manner—a minute earlier even.

Wednesday waits near the door with her arms crossed over her chest. Minutes pass, but soon, she can hear multiple footsteps. She hears your soft and melodic voice, and the tension in her shoulders seeps out.

How annoying.

But when your face is the first thing Wednesday sees at the door, she feels like she can exhale. It's like the satisfying feeling of executing a well-planned strategy, and it might as well have been to make sure you got here.

"Hi, Wednesday," you greet her with a smile on your lips, clearly happy to see her.

Wednesday nods, but then Enid's face pops up in front of yours, grinning all wide and excited.

"O-M-G!" Enid squeals. "I still can't believe you planned all this even though it's the second time I'm seeing this. I'm so proud of you, Wednesday!"

"Thanks," Wednesday deadpans. "Now, leave."

Enid scrunches her nose at her roommate, making a disapproving click of her tongue. "You're welcome for playing watchdog today, BTW. You owe me, Addams."

"And I'm sure you will come to collect, but not today," Wednesday grabs your wrist and pulls you into the room. "Bye." Wednesday shuts the door.

You adjust Wednesday's grip on your wrist, letting your fingers trail along the inside of hers before they fall together like puzzle pieces, slotting together perfectly.

Wednesday turns to look at you, her face blank, but the way her long lashes kiss her eyelids as she blinks enthralls you. The way her eyes trail your form, taking in every last bit, makes you smile.

"I made it in one piece, see?"

"Debatable."

You chuckle, looking around your room, feeling something settle inside you at the obvious amount of effort Wednesday put in.

Turning back to your girlfriend, you notice that Wednesday seems tense, and you realize she's waiting for you to say something. You squeeze her hand.

You lean close to her, biting your bottom lip at the way Wednesday tilts her face toward you.

"You're so dreadful," you mutter, wanting to compliment her in a way she would find flattering, and you think you saw the corner of Wednesday's lip twitch upward.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Wednesday raises her brow at you.

"Oh, I don't know," you smirk. "No harm in trying."

You're just about to kiss her when you see something from the corner of your eye. You smelled it when you walked into the room, and it smelled delicious, but you had been distracted.

But now...

You stand straighter to look. "Is that a makeshift stove on my desk?"

"We will be having sea witch paella."

You smile but then notice something missing from your desk. You turn to Wednesday with a raised brow.

"And why did you use my picture with Bianca as kindling?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"I'm surprised you went with this movie choice."

Wednesday sighs, partly in revulsion at the screen. You were lying on your stomach in bed, your wings out and Wednesday massaging medicine into it as you went back for seconds on the paella. It's gone late into the night, and the two of you have binged through several movies.

"Xavier was adamant that we watch the movies as the 6th one came out and they'll eventually try to ambush us into a movie night with them."

"I mean, it's kind of fascinating, don't you think?" You tilt your head at the screen just as someone is getting stabbed.

"Fascinating in the sense that it's painful to watch everyone in this franchise be so incompetent," Wednesday counters, but then smiles. "But it's amusing.

You laugh as Wednesday finishes working on your wings and sit up, placing your empty bowl on the coffee table. "Well, I do suppose if we were in Scream—not as supernatural beings, mind you—Ghostface wouldn't stand a chance against you. Unless you were Ghostface, then maybe it'd be a different story."

"Please," Wednesday scoffs. "If this amateur can kill this many people, it'd be dreadfully boring for me."

"Oh?" you grin at her. "So, you'd rather be one of the good guys?"

Wednesday's expression quickly morphs into disgust and disbelief that you'd insult her like that.

You laugh again but shake your head. "I would hope you'd stop Ghostface because I would definitely die."

"You're that pathetic that you'd let some fool kill you?" Wednesday shook her head. "You might as well let me end your misery then."

"I will be honest," you nudge Wednesday's shoulder, moving your arm to loop through hers as you pull her close. "I'm unfortunately nearly useless without my wings and powers, as I've never known otherwise. I can't imagine I'd do well as a normie if someone tried to kill me."

Wednesday is silent, seemingly in deep thought about your words.

You hum. "But maybe I'll be like Tara, which is funny because she kind of looks like you."

"Who?"

You chuckle, nudging your head towards the screen. "The girl that got stabbed in the beginning and is fighting for her life in the hospital right now."

"She's not awful," Wednesday concedes. "Whimpering and feeble, but I suppose she survived."

You were starting to lose interest in the movie, but in all fairness, you've sat through four movies in a row. You begin to lean over Wednesday, hovering over her as you trap her between your bed and arms. Your wings hide her from the world, and despite Wednesday having a neutral expression, you have a glint in your eye at the way she has her hands on your waist.

"Well, quite honestly, I'm not that worried. Ghostface should be smart enough to not mess with Wednesday Addams' girlfriend. What do you think?" You grin at her, and Wednesday looks annoyed that you seem to be gloating but also is begrudgingly in agreement.

Wednesday rolls her eyes before she slides one hand behind your neck and pulls you closer until your lips just brush over hers. There's the sound of screams and stabbing noises in the background, and Wednesday can't think of anything more romantic to set the mood.

"Correct. I'll kill anyone who even thinks of touching a single hair on your head."

EPILOGUE 2

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Hope you enjoyed! :)

Temp taglist is still open for 25 more people to be notified when the oneshots and sequel is up! Comment or reblog on this post only or part 10 to be added (pls don't send to my inbox bc i will miss it 💔) you can still always follow my library blog for notifs @missmonsters2-library

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams fanfiction #wednesdayedit #wednesday addams x you #mm: my fics

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lets-try-some-writing · 1 month

Note

Okay, I was reading the Mr. Pax Teacher Au and this idea popped in my head. So basically Optimus is finishing up a work day and a staff member comes up saying someone is here claiming to be his ‘wife’. Optimus questions the staff for a bit and then they reveal they have “pink hair”. Optimus then goes outside to see someone patiently waiting for him with a smile. (I’m a sucker for OptimusxElita, sue me!) Also Elita going “Yeah, you would.” Cause she just knows him. Hope this idea is fun for you!

Well I can't NOT write a snippet for this thank you. I have exactly two ships that I will devour without hesitation and Optimus/Elita happens to be one of them.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Optimus's digits tapped on the desk along to the beat of a simple tune he hummed to himself as he looked over the day's papers. There were quite a few interesting pieces from his young archivists- students. His dear students. They showed such interest in the history he taught them. It was a joy to watch them grow and thrive under his tutelage.

"Abigail, you impress me yet again." He smiled as he looked over the girl's artwork. The assignment for the week had been to compose a model of something Cybertronian. Abigail, one of his more artistic students, had created quite the work of art. Despite having never seen any actual images of Optimus's fallen world, she managed to capture an admittedly quite accurate, if a tad abstract, vision of Uraya. It prompted his spark to flare in joy within his true frame.

"Mr. Pax, apologies for intruding." A feminine voice broke him from his work, prompting Optimus to place down his pile of paperwork and look up. Mrs. Glass, the school nurse, stood in the doorway nervously. She patted down her knitted sweater in what Optimus could only assume was anxiety considering the lack of any noticeable contaminant.

"Can I help you Mrs. Glass?" The nurse shifted uncomfortably before she nodded. Optimus stood up slowly, concern growing in his processors as he ran through the possible issues that might have arisen while he was working. Was the headmaster trying to tamper with affairs again?

"There is a woman outside who is claiming to be your wife." Optimus froze, his expression shifting as he tried to parse out what was happening. Arcee had already taken on the role of "aunt" for Jack. Being Optimus's wife would break her cover. It couldn't be June either for similar reasons.

Was he being stalked?

"Does she have any distinguishing features?" His expression settled into something firm as he readied himself to have to politely tell a confused woman that she had the wrong individual.

"She has pink hair and bright blue eyes. I think she might be wearing colored contacts." Whatever worry was settling into his spark halted the moment he got out the door and heard the nurse's explanation. Instead, faint hope grew steadily as he increased his pace and Mrs. Glass continued.

"She stated that her name was Ariel of Iacon. Although I am not sure where that city is-" Optimus stopped listening and broke into a sprint as he forced his holoform to go faster than it should have been able to according to human biology.

She couldn't be here.

He sent her away after the Allspark was taken from its place.

There was no way his Conjunx was on Earth after so many millennia apart.

"Being a teacher suites you." It was not the voice he knew, not entirely. There was none of the underlying glyphs or tones of their homeworld, but he knew her voice anywhere. He could never mistake her.

"Elita." He stepped out, his holoform momentarily flickering as Elita-One waited for him patiently, her arms crossed over her chest and a font smile on her face. He could almost see the mighty warrior that was his Conjunx through the veil of her disguise. He could hardly wait to wrap her in his arms properly as soon as they were away from prying optics.

"I missed you." She was the first to wrap her arms around him, organic as they were. Their forms melded in places as their holoforms struggled to maintain the illusion alongside their raging emotional states. However, Optimus found he didn't care as he looked into oh so human eyes and saw the spark of a Cybertronian hidden behind them.

She was here. He didn't know how or why, but Elita was here with him once more.

"I stopped by your base before I came here. I wanted it to be a surprise." She laughed as she nuzzled against his neck, searching for sensory lines that where not there. Optimus wrapped his limited EM field around her as he processed her presence and relished in it.

"It has been a most pleasant surprise to see you here after so long." Distantly, he noted Mrs. Glass watching from the school entrance. Optimus didn't bother looking back as he pulled away and took Elita's hands in his. The paperwork could be dealt with later. For now, there were bonds to be reforged, memories to share, and many long cycles apart to make up for.

"To base then?" Elita smiled up at him. Optimus could almost imagine her antennae perking up as he grinned in response.

"If that is what you want love."

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #elita one #alternate universe #teacher au #mr pax strikes again #now with his wife mrs pax #optimus x elita #oplita

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gyusimp · 12 days

Note

hiii,

first of all I LOVE your work and your writing, it’s incredible how you capture your writing and I find your gyutaro fics to be very spicy yet creative.

I would love if you could make a college fic (or a high school fic, which ever one your comfortable with) where the reader is a shy, nerdy girl who has volunteered to work at the library during summer break at night time. As they’re working they bend over to fix the printer and get stuck or they ask gyutaro to hold some cords so they can reach into the printer to fix something inside the cabinet.

anyways use your imagination I know you wont let me down <3

°•Library nights with Gyutaro•° (Nsfw)

Thank you so much sweet little anon! I'm glad you like my horny nonsense lol. You said you liked spicy so I took the liberty of making your request NSFW since you didn't specify, but if you had something fluff and SFW in mind please don't hesitate to tell me and I'll rewrite a version for everyone, ok? 🍬

⚠️WARNINGS: NSFW content | Smut content | Kimetsu Gakuen AU but both are adults for some reason | MINORS DNI!

Art credits: @ bluethebone on IG

Summer vacation was just around the corner at Kimetsu Gakuen. Some teachers would take turns to rest and to work on planning their classes and some projects for when the students had returned, some students would even take turns to support the teachers in their tasks. It was a task that no one wanted to do, besides you, the only ones who accepted were a red-haired boy with flashy earrings, another with long black hair with mint eyes and a little black-haired girl with blue eyes and a soft voice. It wasn't because your greatest desire in life was to help the teachers, you found out that extra points would be given in some subjects and that would help you maintain a good average in your classes as you did until now, besides, your mother was all day at work just like your dad so being at home all day would be quite boring.

That led you to volunteer as an assistant at the school. Principal Amane introduced you to your classmates and assigned each of them a time and place where they would be collaborating. Tanjiro would help with some repairs inside the cafeteria, Muichiro would be in the playground and gym, Makomo would be in Kimetsu Elementary, and you would be in the library. The others seemed to be very nice and they were, they all ate together with you at lunch time and as the days went by you became very close, Tanjiro even brought you all some cookies from his family's bakery. Today you would be on the afternoon shift, after another boy named Murata joined the volunteering later, you would take turns with him to help in the library. The afternoon shift was very quiet, generally you only had to organize books in their areas, clean and keep everything in its place, you even took the liberty of listening to some music on your airphones and reading a book that was of interest to you .

Today you would continue reading that romantic novel you found yesterday but when you arrived your plans changed. You entered the library with your things, it was always empty but today you found someone inside, a student. And not just any student, it was Gyutaro Shabana.

The guy was known as a delinquent within the school, he always spent time in detention or causing problems for students and teachers, especially the art teacher. Despite that, you embarrassingly had to admit that you found him quite attractive despite his reputation and everyone else thinking otherwise so your heart skipped a beat when you found him here and saw how he examined you from head to toe with one look

"H-hello," You barely said, entering and walking towards your spot at the library reception.

The boy didn't respond, he simply continued doing his thing next to a pile of books and sheets on the table, biting a pencil between his crooked teeth. You couldn't stand it, being so close to Shabana made you nervous. You tried to do anything to keep yourself busy but at the same time admire him from a distance. His hunched posture working in the chair, his blue eyes looking down and his thin fingers writing notes in hasty and poorly legible handwriting. The guy had something that made him uniquely attractive, interesting, sexy in your opinion. Doubt gnawed at you to know what he was doing here on vacation, but it wasn't until the next day that you dared to ask him.

"Summer school and shit" he replied.

Gyutaro was very intelligent but very lazy at times so that led him to get unsatisfactory grades and having to attend remedial classes during the vacations. He thought the same thing happened to you but he didn't hesitate to shamelessly mock you when you told him that you helped the school of your own free will. According to him it was the most pathetic decision he had ever seen someone make in their life. His comments were cruel like a joke but you didn't dislike it at all, you usually joke in a similar way with your closest friends so the time you started spending with Gyutaro wasn't anything new or offensive. You spent this entire week talking to him, he told you that he preferred to go to school in the afternoon since in the morning he was in charge of spending time with his sister and preparing lunch for both of them, then his mother would come home after work and she would take care of Ume while he studied here. Well, in theory, Gyutaro ended up procrastinating most of the time in the library after his math classes with Mr. Shinazugawa, on more than one occasion you found him asleep on the table, playing something on his cell phone or worse, watching videos too spicy even if you were around; you had to call his attention after a woman's moan broke out in the middle of the silence of the library when he thought his airphones were connected to his cell phone.

It was Monday again but this week you wouldn't be seeing Gyutaro because Murata would cover the morning shift, your shift was from 7:00 am - 2:00 Gyutaro's classes started at 3:00 pm then one more hour in the library until he got tired and went home so you could only talk to him via text. Yes, you gave him your contact and he gave you his, which is very unusual for him unless he really likes someone but either way neither of you ended up writing anything to the other. Embarrassment consumed you when you opened his chat so you preferred to talk to him until next week in person. Next monday arrived and you were eager to see him, your heart was beating a mile an hour and as soon as you entered you took care of greeting him and sitting next to him at the usual table, that was the same until Wednesday. On Thursday you were planning to do the same but your plans were affected. Mr. Rengoku needed some printed handouts with readings, exercises and questions for his students in the summer school History class, the man arrived with a smile before going home that day and handed you a USB with the document to to print 20 brochures for tomorrow. Each brochure had approximately 12 pages so your entire afternoon had been taken up next to the printer thanks to the young blond man with the loud voice, you got to work so you wouldn't have to stay late.

From time to time Gyutaro would get up from his chair to hover near you and ask you what the hell you were doing, why you were surrounded by sheets, a whole valley of paper around you. You explained as you organized everything on the computer and programmed the 20 copies on the printer. The device was not very recent and you had to monitor each of the sheets that came out so that it worked correctly until the most feared thing happened. The paper jammed. You tried with your life to move and fix it but the damn thing just didn't obey your orders so you swallowed your shame and went to find Gyutaro to give you a hand. Both of you examined the machine, checking inputs, cables and so on until it made a very strange robotic noise.

"Some printers open from the back, have you checked there?" Gyutaro asked while checking some cables.

"You're right, not yet." Gyutaro moved the device to give you access to the back, you leaned over the wooden furniture and began to look for a door or removable piece to unclog the paper.

Gyutaro was trying to help you by checking cables and other things until he finally got grumpy and gave up before smashing the printer against the wall. He took a couple steps back and crossed his arms as he watched you, cursing on the other side. His eyes were on the printer but then they went to your hair, to your arms moving repetitively, to your legs and the pressure that your white stockings caused on your thigh fat and then to your skirt, your butt peeking out shamelessly from under it and it seemed like you didn't know it. The movements you made made Gyutaro's mind fly much further, Shabana is an undoubtedly perverted guy and that was not a secret to anyone. A pressure began to build under his pants, colliding with the beige fabric of his uniform, making him walk towards you and was about to grab your waist with both hands, but he was interrupted by your voice.

"I got it!" You said excitedly, after hearing the printer return to work.

You sorted the paper and made sure to count the pages to resume printing, you were about to return to your chair but Gyutaro cornered you against the desk with both arms next to your hips, it made you very nervous seeing him so close.

"Wow, you have very skillful hands..." he said, smiling at you with many hints.

You didn't know what to do, were you imagining everything? Your cheeks burned in a second and something inside you made you play along.

"I know, I know how to do some things."

Gyutaro smiled mischievously at you, looked at you from head to toe and dared to caress your leg, bringing one hand to your butt under your uniform skirt.

"Really? Why don't you show me instead of bragging, huh?" He said, lifting you onto the desk with both hands, positioning himself between your legs.

Something warmed inside you, the speed in your chest made you smile back at him and grab him by the back of his neck to kiss him on the lips as he approached you. Gyutaro kissed you with desperation and inexperience but that didn't mean it didn't feel fucking good, the blue-eyed boy licked every part of your mouth, kissed your neck and left wet, hungry marks on your collarbones while making you choke on moans when he rubbed his member in the middle of your thighs.

"G-Gyutaro...someone could come." You said, trying to push him away and make him see reason.

"Do you think anyone is still here?" He scoffed. "Don't be stupid, that's why teachers offer high scores if you come to volunteer, everyone is at home while the stupid students do the work they should." He huffed between kisses on your neck.

"B-but, what if a student comes?" Your voice sounded worried despite the desire in it.

"Then they will learn not to mess with my woman."

Hearing him say that turned you on so much, you didn't know if it was because Gyutaro was also aroused that he said that but without a doubt that he claimed you as his without giving a damn about the others turned you to a pulp in his arms.

Gyutaro's hands went to your shirt to get rid of your green tie and open each of your buttons to leave more desperate, wet kisses on your breasts, leaving red marks on your soft skin and shiny trails of his hot saliva, you grabbed his shoulders and you unbuttoned his shirt too to see his torso. He looked like a very thin boy, actually, his waist was quite small but his chest and arms were very strong. You brought both hands to his chest and caressed him sensually, lightly running your nails over him and playing with his nipples while he devoured you with kisses and nibbled you, with his hands never leaving your butt under your skirt for a second, playing with the lace of your panties. You leaned a little to kiss his neck and trapezius, Gyutaro's collarbones were very pronounced and while you licked his skin in the middle of kisses, you moved your hands towards his back to grab his butt and try to put your hands under his pants but he quickly stopped you. He grabbed both your hands tightly and didn't allow you to move forward.

"I thought you wanted me to show you my skills," you told him, mockingly.

"I changed my mind. I'll show you, okay?" He spoke firmly and authoritatively, making your panties wet.

Gyutaro brushed the hair from your neck and kissed your shoulders roughly until he slowly pushed you to lie down on the desk, leaving your legs dangling. Your hands tangled in his greenish curls, you couldn't help but moan at every touch of his long fingers, he lifted your skirt up to the top of your thighs and began to unbutton his belt and pants until he left his naked member exposed. Looking down and noticing how big he was, the blue eyed boy spit into his palm and began pumping his cock so it dripped more between his fingers, eager to fill you completely. Seeing the "V" shaped lines on Gyutaro's abdomen just above his member made you shiver with pleasure, just below his navel you could see a small trail of black hair. You desperately hoped that Gyutaro would take off your panties or you would do it yourself but when you saw his hand reach towards your core and feel his fingers sliding down your slit it was a much bigger relief. Gyutaro was aware of the risk that someone could get in, so he decided to leave your panties in place and just move them to the side with his index finger, watching with desire how wet you were and how you filled his fingers with small, slippery transparent threads.

"I bet you're really tight." He told you, licking his fingers and pulling your panties aside again.

Gyutaro stimulated your hole with his fingers with a couple of movements but when he felt your soft walls taking him warmly, his ambition made him take his cock and insert it directly into you, making you moan loudly, arching your back, instinctively opening your legs wider to receive him. You could feel Gyutaro stretching you, your moans accompanied his gasps and the sound of the printer doing its job, your uniform was a complete hindrance to both of you until you changed positions and Gyutaro put you face down on the desk. He entered you again and gave you a couple of spanks making you gasp his name.

"I love how you beg for me, you nerdy little bitch." He hissed, drunk with pleasure.

Gyutaro's moans were increasing, he took the audacity to lower his hands to your chest and put both hands inside your bra to massage your breasts while he fucked you. Your legs fought to keep you firm but each thrust weakened you more, you felt your clit throb and your hole get wetter and wetter until a lot of wet sounds filled the library, sweat ran under your knees and you felt drops running between your thighs without stopping, you didn't know if they were your juices. You clenched roughly making Gyutaro moan and curse, picking up speed as you were hit by your orgasm, an electrifying and abundant one that left you trembling beneath him, creating a slippery ring around Gyutaro's cock inside your swollen pussy. You were empty-minded, blinded by lust until you suddenly felt empty all of a sudden. You looked back and realized that Gyutaro had cum all over your thighs and part of the desk. So he pulled out of you before his orgasm.

Gyutaro was agitated just like you, his chest rising and falling and his bangs falling messily over his sweaty forehead, the perfect feeling of your tight pussy still had him seeing stars. You composed yourself and organized your panties and uniform, you noticed that even the 20 pamphlets had finished printing so you reluctantly organized them to finish stapling them tomorrow.

Your face began to burn, becoming aware of what had just happened, you didn't know if Gyutaro had done this because he was simply horny or because he actually liked you. It was something that you would analyze with your pillow tonight so you preferred to say goodbye to him briefly.

"See you tomorrow." You said, grabbing your things.

Gyutaro didn't say anything, he left his backpack where it was and began to walk towards you without taking his eyes off you, for a second you thought he was going to kill you until he took you by the waist and gave you a kiss on the lips, slowly and delicious making you melt again.

"We just fucked and that's all you're saying?" He scoffed, making you blush. "I love you as much as I love your pussy, stupid girl. At least say 'thank you' or some shit."

"I-I... me too- i mean...ok."

Gyutaro couldn't help but laugh at your inability to speak and the deep red painting your face, he finds you very adorable. "Next time we can do it completely naked, okay?" Gyutaro said, giving you a small spank.

That night he offered to take you home on his motorcycle.

#gyutaro x reader #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro #kny smut #gyutaro smut #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba

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taevbears · 1 month

Text

Magic Shop - 12

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

⤑ pairing: OT7 x witch!reader, Namjoon focused ⤑ genre: magic au, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, found family, domestic/slice of life, action/adventure ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 11.2k ⤑ warnings: lol idk what it is about namjoon that makes me so feral but explicit & implied smut (penetrative, 34+35, face-riding, daddy kink), description of body horror, mentions of death & past traumas, pet names (baby). ⤑ note: lmao bc the way i've been working on this chapter since the end of last year, and it's FINALLY being posted. i've been in this weird slump with my writing, so i hope that this is ok lol. enjoy, and i'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter! :)

Chapters: Series Masterlist | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

“You’re so annoying,” you complain, shutting the door behind you. Your next lecture is in half an hour, but Hoseok will be looking for you soon.

The two of you have about fifteen minutes.

“I’ll be fast,” Namjoon promises, already pulling off his top. His roommates aren’t in. They’re most-likely hanging out in the common rooms and won’t be back for a while.

It’s just you and him.

And the paramour secret that hangs between you two.

Your back is pressed against the door as you eye him. In just his slacks, he looks like sin. Tall and muscular, sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders and long arms. Blessed with the perfect body proportions. The hunger in your eyes grows the longer you stare.

“We shouldn’t keep doing this.”

It’s what you tell him every time, but you lift your skirt. His gaze automatically locks onto your thighs as he unbuckles his belt, and his cock twitches with interest when he catches a peek of your panties.

His voice is husky when he asks, “Should we stop?”

He already knows the answer. It’s the same as it always is.

“No,” you reply, tilting your head slightly. A daring gesture as a coy smile dances on your lips. You slowly loosen the buttons of your blouse one by one. His gaze lifts to your face as you whisper, “Want you, daddy.”

Namjoon wants you more.

Without another second to waste, his long strides close the distance between you two. Strong hands impatiently yanking at the fabric of your clothes as he leans down to kiss you at last.

Namjoon wakes, sticky with sweat.

The bed he’s on is bigger and more comfortable than the cheap bunk at his dorm. The white duvet – kicked to the floor at some point of the night – is thick and weighted; a godsend compared to the thin, itchy blanket he was given when assigned to his room. The bedroom itself, curated to his taste, is woodsy, minimalistic, and bold: favorite art pieces hang on the walls and decorate the space that reflect his current moods, a private library with books that frequently changes to new titles whenever he finishes reading some, and bonsais that he’s been taking care of are starting to bloom flowers.

It takes him a moment, but he realizes he’s no longer a student nor an enchanter at Blackstone Castle.

A sigh falls from his lips as he runs his fingers through his damp hair.

Another dream about you.

He’s been doing that a lot lately. Dreaming of you.

You, sneaking into his bed after lights out and everyone else is asleep. You, taking his hand and leading him into secluded places between classes and when things at the shop are slow. You, climbing over his lap with your hands steady on his shoulders as he holds your waist, loving the way you look on top of him.

Once upon a time, when all this initially started, Namjoon thought it’d never go beyond a physical affair. The two of you were clearly attracted to each other. When the stress of exams, a looming Harrowing, and the competitive streaks between you two became too much, you often sought each other out.

But at some point, Namjoon realized it was starting to mean something more to him.

At some point, Namjoon realized it was because he was falling in love with you.

And somehow, at some point, you started to fall in love with him too.

You, dedicated and hardworking, quiet and serious with your studies, and burning with a hunger for knowledge and an eagerness to test your limits. You, also kind and caring, loyal and protective of the people you love deeply, and who’ve dreamed of opening this shop of comfort to help people. You, who carries the warmth and radiance of the sun, beautiful in the way that starlights compliment the night sky, and yet look to the shadows of the moon at him.

Love to Namjoon is still… a new concept.

There are days where he isn’t entirely sure what he’s doing or what the future holds with you. There are days where he questions why you even love someone like him when the others could be much better lovers.

It’s like fire. Pretty to admire, comforting to feel its warmth; a guidance of light through a dark and harsh world, but never to touch. Never his to claim and hold as the shadows of loneliness and insecurity grow around him. Love burns as fire does, leaving nothing but scalding embers and ash as its remains.

He loved his family, but they had easily given him up after he awakened his magical powers, even though he desperately ran away from towers and fortresses to beg for their forgiveness. He loved his hometown in the countryside, but he still remembers the look of hatred on the villagers’ faces once they found out what he was and deemed him a monster. He loved his friend, Ignis, and his untimely death by the cruel hands of hunters is still a burden Namjoon is forced to carry with him.

But there are days where love just feels… nice.

Where, in the early morning, when he’s getting ready for a run by the river, you’d stumble down the stairs shortly after him with your hair still a bit messy from sleep and your eyes barely open, and simply ask if he wants coffee and breakfast with you now or when he comes back.

Where, more often than he’d like to admit, a spell backfires and instead of changing the temperature of the shop, he ends up casting a sleeping spell on all the patrons, and you end up fighting your drowsiness to set things right, never once berating him or making him feel bad for any harmless accidents.

Where, after a long day, the two of you wind down together, sprawled in his library nook downstairs, not really talking to each other – too caught up in your own readings for conversation – but finding each other’s presence comforting nonetheless as he uses your thighs as a pillow while you absently run your fingers through his hair, or when you’d prop your legs over his lap as he gently massages your calves.

If Namjoon could write a million poems to describe how he feels around you, it still wouldn’t be enough. With you, he feels safe. With you, he feels comfortable. With you, he feels accepted, despite all his flaws and mistakes.

Namjoon loves you more than anyone he’s ever loved before. From the days you two were just students in Blackstone Castle to now. He loves the shop, the family it has brought together, the freedom of being himself – an ordinary man who likes books, nature, and art – without being condemned for his affinity to magic.

But like his family, his hometown, and even Ignis, he’s afraid that one day, you, the home you built with him, and the family you both found will all disappear.

And it’ll be his fault.

With a deep, frustrated sigh, Namjoon forces himself to sit up.

Before, he used to dream a lot about all the things he’s loved and lost. He recalls every detail of it: the day of his awakening, the fires that destroyed his home, how often he ran away to apologize to his parents, the screams of agony when he had to leave his only friend behind.

Now, Namjoon dreams about you.

You’re everything he loves.

You’re everything he’s afraid to lose.

“I’m heading out now!” Seokjin calls out, putting on his shoes by the front door.

“Okay, be safe,” you tell him, coming to the entryway to see him out. Seokjin promises he will and pulls you in for a kiss.

Behind the counter, Namjoon finds himself looking away.

Recently, Seokjin started his own guild with his friends from the Freelancers. After a mission involving mages went awry, they left their old organizations and started calling themselves the Oathkeepers. As a newly-established guild, most of their work comes from notices placed on the town’s community board, or word-by-mouth from people who’ve hired them before.

Things have slowed down a lot compared to how busy they were in their former guild. Seokjin was hardly home, and when he was, he was exhausted. While it’s nice to see the former warden around the shop these days, Namjoon can tell that the thrill of excitement and adventures are sorely missed, as well as the amount of coins he was able to collect after each successful quest they’ve completed.

“Can we go too?” Jungkook asks, already slipping a rucksack over his shoulder.

“Please,” Taehyung tacks on, honey-colored eyes wide and pleading as he stares directly at you.

Your lips part with an almost-spoken answer until you catch yourself, and helplessly look toward Namjoon with a face that’s just about ready to give anything the raven familiar desires.

Namjoon sighs. He can’t blame the two youngest for wanting to go with Seokjin. Whatever adventures he has planned today are far more appealing than being stuck in the shop all day. Even though, at the shop, Taehyung normally follows Hoseok around, and Jungkook quietly admires Namjoon doing mundane work.

“Sure, why not?” He decides with a shrug. “Be careful and listen to Jin-hyung, though.”

“Yes!” Taehyung and Jungkook cheer and high-five each other.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go. The others are waiting for us,” Seokjin urges before turning to you again. He kisses you one more time and adds, “We’ll be back before dinner.”

“Bye, hyung. Bye, kids. Look out for each other,” Hoseok reminds them, standing beside you with Yoongi in his arms. The black cat looks comfortable in Hoseok’s hold, pointed ears twitching as he turns his head to look at the others.

“We will,” Jungkook promises, nearly bouncing on his feet with excitement. A sheepish smile spreads on his face as he caresses your cheek and kisses you sweetly. “We’ll be going now.”

“Don’t miss us too much, darling,” Taehyung teases when it’s his turn, tilting your chin up and diving in for a goodbye kiss as well. He smirks at the flustered look on your face as Seokjin calls for them to hurry up.

As you watch them leave, Hoseok nudges you. There’s a knowing look on his face when he comments, “You look tempted to join them.”

“It does seem fun,” you acknowledge with a small sigh. Seokjin makes his quests sound so thrilling and perilous, even if you know he exaggerates a bit just to impress you most of the time.

Namjoon frowns and speaks up. “I’d rather you stay here.”

You turn to him, a bit defiant, and place a hand on your hip. “Why? Think I can’t do it?”

“Ooh,” Hoseok utters with a smile. He and Yoongi look between you and Namjoon with mild amusement.

“It’s not that,” he retorts, nearly rolling his eyes. He knows that you’re perfectly capable of becoming an adventurer and would be a great asset to the Oathkeepers. “What Jin-hyung and the others do is dangerous.”

“I can handle danger,” you tell him. Hoseok nods his head and agrees you can. Without looking away from Namjoon, you give your best friend a high-five.

“Here is safe,” Namjoon argues with a finality in his voice. He frowns when he looks at you. “And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

It occurs to you and Hoseok that Namjoon is being very serious.

“Namjoon, we’re just kidding,” Hoseok quickly assures him. “Neither of us are going anywhere. The shop is our responsibility.”

“Yeah. And even if I did go on a quest with Jin, you don’t need to worry about me.” You walk up to Namjoon and take his hands in yours. “I can handle myself, Namjoon.”

Words you’ve told him repeatedly, even before the night of your Harrowing back in Blackstone Castle. In the library where he’d always run into you.

“I know you can, baby.” He brings your hands to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “If it comes to that, just promise you’ll come back to me, okay?”

Before Jungkook was turned into a toad by an evil witch, he was an adventurer. He joined a guild with some same-age friends, traveled far from home, saw rare sights, fought challenging beasts, and visited beautiful places. Excitement and wonder were at every corner.

But this…

“Your grand task today,” Seokjin informs as he unceremoniously hands a stack of fliers each to Taehyung and Jungkook, “is to pass these out and put them around town.”

This isn’t it.

Jungkook glances down at the posters. Since the Oathkeepers are still new, Seokjin and the others have been trying to promote their guild and ask around for work. The neat calligraphy and the print of their symbol is a way to do just that.

“Actually, I think Hoseok-hyung might need my help at the shop after all,” Taehyung tries to back out. This isn’t the kind of quest he had in mind either.

“You’re already here. Just help out a little,” Seokjin pushes, holding out a flier from his own stack and handing it to someone who curiously grabs it. “This will help attract people to our shop too.”

Taehyung pouts, but relents. “Fine. But I want to go on a real adventure next time.”

“Hyung, I think I can finish my stack faster than you,” Jungkook suddenly challenges.

Taehyung’s golden eyes light up with a competitive streak. “You’re on.”

“Wait,” Seokjin begins, suddenly feeling left out. He starts to shove his fliers in the arms of people passing by. “This isn’t a contest. You guys…”

Without waiting for Seokjin to finish, both Taehyung and Jungkook dart off to opposite directions. His hands work quickly as he slides the fliers under doors, sticks them on the walls, and hands them out to whoever he sees.

“Please come to our shop,” Jungkook says, handing one of the last ones to a guy in a cloak. Most of the people he had passed them to merely glance at them without another thought, but this stranger stops and reads through it.

“Kim Seokjin?” he reads out loud, as if the name is familiar to him.

Jungkook pauses and looks at the mysterious stranger. The cloak covers most of his face and body, but he meets his eyes with a look of curiosity. With a tilt of his head, Jungkook asks, “You know my hyung?”

The stranger nods. “Hey kid. Do you happen to know a guy named Kim Namjoon?”

When Seokjin and the others return to the shop, they aren’t alone.

“Well, well,” a familiar voice says as he steps inside. He pulls down the hood of his cloak, revealing his handsome face. “I knew you’d be together, but I never thought I’d find you all here.”

“Jackson?!” Namjoon’s mouth drops, knocking over the chair he was sitting on as he rushes to greet his friend. The two clasps hands and pull each other into a quick hug.

Hoseok laughs in disbelief, welcoming him as well in a similar manner. “Hey, man! It’s good to see you!”

“Likewise,” Jackson replies with a big smile. He looks around the shop, in awe as he takes it in all. “So, this is where you guys have been hiding.”

The walls are painted bright, vivid colors. There’s a mix-mash of furniture, from old antiques and oddities to more modern pieces. The cozy entrance where you all stand divides the parlor and the tavern, and upstairs are the private rooms of the residents.

Perhaps to regular humans, it’s just a quirky shop. But for a mage like Jackson, he can feel the magical energy: the warmth of it on his fingertips, the whimsical lightness that eases his worries away, the safety from the protection spells cast in every room.

A kind of place that’s easy to overlook, yet brings in a strange sense of comfort that he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

“Like it?” you ask with a bright smile, shoulders rising with pride. “This is our home.”

“It’s incredible,” he tells you, thoroughly impressed. His voice softens as he adds, “I didn’t think I’d ever run into a place like this.”

“Who is he, babe?” Jimin asks you, curious of the newcomer. Taehyung and Jungkook share the same wonder, coming to stand next to you and Yoongi. All four of them are new faces to Jackson, even though he had already met Yoongi in his cat form.

“He’s a friend,” you explain as Jackson politely introduces himself to them. “We all went to the same school.”

Some time has passed since you’ve all escaped Blackstone Castle and found your place in this town. A lot of things have changed since you last saw Jackson as well. After that night, you haven’t seen or heard from any of the other mages.

Until now.

Jackson stands before you all, travel-worn and exhausted. His face is thinner and more sunken. Dark circles are beneath his tired eyes, as if he hadn’t properly slept in days. There’s a scar on his cheek that hadn’t been there before.

“We ran into him in town,” Seokjin informs, coming to greet you with a quick kiss. Jackson arches an eyebrow when he sees a former warden kiss a mage. “He said he needs to talk to Namjoon.”

“Me?” the man in question asks, surprised.

“That’s right. Although…” Jackson trails off as he turns his attention to you and Hoseok. “Maybe this is something you guys could help with too.”

You and Hoseok exchange glances with each other. Then, curiously, you ask, “What do you mean?”

But Jackson hesitates. His eyes flicker to the others, suggesting that the news he’s about to share must be spoken in private. That its details require the use of magic, and Jackson doesn’t know who among your group already knows the truth about you, Hoseok, and Namjoon.

“Have you eaten yet, Jackson?” Hoseok suddenly asks, easing into a bright smile. “Stay for a while. We have a lot to catch up on.”

It feels like old times.

Jackson and Namjoon share a drink. Their glasses clink together before they chug down the golden liquor.

Hoseok’s loud laughter is carried throughout the room, more amused by Yoongi’s reaction to Seokjin’s joke than the punchline itself. Despite that, Seokjin attempts to make another. His face burns red from the tips of his ears down to his neck as he desperately tries to refrain from laughing at his own joke. And when he fails at the delivery, he smacks Yoongi in the arm as if it’s his fault. Hoseok, somehow, laughs even harder.

Jimin pours another shot, cheeks flushed a rosy pink and barely able to see straight. The clear liquor misses the glass entirely and spills mostly on the table. Some of it drips to Jungkook’s pants, who barely registers it. Instead, his round eyes are locked on you, lovestruck as he watches you and Taehyung drunkenly slow dance together.

Taehyung spins you beneath his arm and catches you when you stumble forward. The both of you are clinging onto each other’s arms, in fits of giggles as he presses his forehead against yours. It’s like no one else is in the room except you two. Not even any of your other lovers, who seamlessly take turns drinking with you and passing you around from one to another throughout the night.

Seeing everyone around him relaxed and having fun reminds Namjoon of the parties back at Blackstone Castle. It isn’t unusual for apprentices to sneak away at night to hook up, drink with friends, and celebrate small achievements and occasions. With the wardens constantly watching them, the heavy burdens of exams and Harrowings on their shoulders, and a strict system followed by the staff to keep magic restricted, it’s sometimes the only way the students could let loose.

Jackson was fond of going to these parties. He’d go to as many as he could, and made lots of friends with his outgoing and funny personality. Your old roommates were too, and they’d drag you along with the promise of Hoseok attending a party as well. And Namjoon – who’d patiently wait and catch your eye when you’re alone – would sneak you out before anyone would notice you’re both gone.

“I knew she’d end up with you or Hoseok,” Jackson comments, drawing Namjoon out of his thoughts. They watch as you end your dance with Taehyung with a curtsy before he guides you to Hoseok, who easily gathers you in his arms. “But it looks like she got both of you and more.”

“She’s our girl,” Namjoon agrees with a fond smile.

Namjoon used to be a little jealous of Hoseok. After all, Hoseok loved you first. He still loves you now.

But when you feel Namjoon’s gaze on you from across the room, you meet his eyes and smile. With the same sincerity you had back then, when you had first said those words to him during your birthday, you mouth the words, “I love you.”

It’s not words you often say to each other – even though you clearly do, and he loves you just the same – but it still takes his breath every time. You love him. Someone as precious and beautiful as you chooses to love a guy like him.

“Who would’ve thought?” Jackson muses, sipping on his drink.

It feels like old times, but things have changed.

Namjoon certainly has. Without the vigilant gaze of the wardens and the suffocating confinements of the fortresses, he is a free man in this town. He can run along the river every morning, read books beneath the shade of a tree at the park, and go out with you and the other guys when the shop is closed. No one knows that he’s a mage here; no one looks at him like an abomination or something Wicked.

Here, he is just Namjoon. And as himself, he’s learned to enjoy his life a bit more. He’s learned to cherish those he holds so dearly, and savor those precious moments with gratitude. He’s learned to love, even when sometimes, he wonders if he deserves it.

For Jackson, however, his experiences after Blackstone are entirely different.

Since that night, he’s been on the run. He barely had time to grieve and process what had happened for a while, running before the nightmares caught up to him. He never stays in a town too long, never reveals too much about what he is or where he came from. In Blackstone, the threats were contained within the castle: power-hungry wardens, missued spells, Harrowings, and the nightmarish realm of the Veil. Out here, anything could happen. Anyone could become a potential threat.

“You’re always welcome to stay here, Jackson,” Namjoon offers after a few more drinks, just as Taehyung and Jungkook help carry a drunk Jimin upstairs into the spare bedroom. He grimaces, unable to take back what he said.

The eighth room doesn’t belong to Jackson anyway.

“I appreciate it, but it looks like you have a full house,” Jackson replies as he looks around the shop again.

Everyone seemed to have passed their limit. Hoseok is zoning out, sitting quietly with a blank expression on his face. Yoongi was the opposite, cheering loudly and running around when he won a card game you were all playing, but now his energy has died down as he patiently waits for you to go to bed with him. Seokjin is sober enough to clean up, putting away the empty bottles and picking up the cards that were thrown on the floor. Neither Taehyung nor Jungkook have come back down after they took Jimin upstairs, so they must have fallen asleep as well. No one is paying attention to them.

Now is as good a time as any to reveal why he’s here.

“What’s that?” Namjoon asks, seeing Jackson pull out a couple fliers. One of them is one he received from Jungkook earlier that day. The other one has a bit more wear and tear, creases showing that it’s been folded and re-opened over and over.

“I think I might have a job you and your friends would be interested in,” he tells him, showing the flier that the Oathkeepers were passing out. “I ran into a couple mages you guys helped out a few towns over. It’s rare to run into others like us, let alone a group of mages and humans who are willing to help each other out. When they described you guys, I had a feeling I knew exactly who they were talking about. Turns out, I was right.”

Namjoon remembers them. Seokjin’s former guild wanted to bring in mages to the frontlines of their quests, but at the expense of abusive power and enslavement to control them. It was a controversial stance that eventually divided the guild and led to Seokjin and his friends separating from them altogether after all of you helped the captured mages escape.

“That’s why you were looking for me?” Namjoon asks, remembering Seokjin had mentioned that Jackson wanted to speak with him.

“I was looking for everybody. You. Hoseok. Your girl. My old roommates. Any of our old friends,” he lists with a frown. It doesn’t seem like he had much luck finding anyone else. Jackson then pushes the second paper – the worn and torn one – toward him. “While looking around, I found this.”

Without reading it, Namjoon asks, “What is it?”

“It’s the job,” Jackson reminds him, carefully watching as Namjoon picks it up and unfolds the paper.

“Help wanted,” Namjoon reads out loud. “Every night, the undead wakes from their eternal slumber and attacks our small village. No one knows why or where they are coming from, but our farmers suspect a necromancer is to blame.”

Necromancy?

Magic, as beautiful and wonderful as it could be, is also dangerous and deadly. Certain magic is forbidden for a reason. Messing with the afterlife is considered one of them.

“Keep going,” Jackson urges.

“Each night, our numbers dwindle as the undead grows. Soon, there will be nothing left of our village,” Namjoon continues with a frown. “In a desperate plea for help, we are sending our notices far and wide in hopes to find anyone brave enough to take this urgent quest. We will do whatever it takes to save our home. Please, to anyone who finds this, help us.”

Namjoon doesn’t get it. Dark magic is explicitly banned from the fortresses. It’s why they’ve been built and why they contain mages in the first place. Jackson knows this. He’s lived in these towers too.

“Check the location,” Jackson quietly presses before Namjoon could turn it down.

He does, glancing down at the paper again. He nearly drops it when he sees where the quest is coming from.

Hawthorn Village. His hometown.

He’s tried and failed several times to return to that place ever since he was sent away on the day of his magical awakening. Ignis died helping Namjoon on his last attempt to return, and Namjoon swore he would never try again after that haunting day.

Suddenly, it feels like it’s hard for him to breathe. To swallow. He blinks back the sting of tears as he looks at his friend. “That place…”

“We can come with you,” Seokjin suddenly offers, holding some empty bottles and glasses that he is taking to the sink. “The Oathkeepers and I. We have the documents that prove that we’re a legitimate guild.”

No one would question them on the road. Some would be more willing to help and provide information when they see they’re a group on a mission and not just ordinary travelers as well.

“What do you say?” Jackson asks, sounding hopeful. “I won’t be able to do this on my own. They’ll need us, Namjoon. We can help them. All of us can.”

And Namjoon realizes why Jackson mentioned you and Hoseok could help with this quest as well.

His gaze immediately turns to you.

Your arm is around Yoongi’s neck as he helps you stand. You look flushed, cheeks hot and limbs loose from the alcohol. A bashful giggle escapes your lips at your own predicament, and how you feel like a fawn learning to walk as you use Yoongi to keep your balance. And you only laugh harder when you catch a glimpse of Hoseok’s face as he blinks slowly at you, and his mouth lifts into a slight chuckle of his own.

After everything you’ve all been through at Blackstone Castle, Namjoon swore he’d do whatever it takes to protect you.

“She’ll get hurt,” Namjoon points out.

“She’s the best spellcaster we know,” Jackson counters. “And Hoseok makes the best potions. You all have familiars too, and a formidable guild that will have our backs if anyone questions what we are.”

“He has a point, Namjoon,” Seokjin agrees, but in a way that lets Namjoon know that it’s his call. Whatever he decides, Seokjin will support him.

“Jin, last time I… Last time…”

“It’ll be different this time,” he assures him with a small but confident smile. “You’ll have us.”

“What do you say, Namjoon?” Jackson asks, pouring both of them another glass.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath. He looks over at you again: your pretty smile and the way it reaches your eyes, how the sound of your laughter reminds Namjoon of how precious you are to him, and the endeared look from those around you as how affectionate you are when you’re tipsy.

It feels like old times, as Namjoon admires you from afar.

He knows you. Even if he had no connection to the village, you’d still want to help. Because that’s the kind of person you are. Namjoon is the same way.

But things have changed. Namjoon has changed.

Before, he would stop at nothing to return to his village and see his parents again. Before, he would take on this mission in a heartbeat, no matter what the risks are. But now, doubt starts to fill his mind.

This could be dangerous. Impossible, even.

But this is his home. His family might still be there. He has to try. Right?

“Okay,” he decides as he takes the glass Jackson pours him. The sudden burden in his heart makes it harder to swallow this time.

Namjoon can’t sleep.

He lies back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His mind restlessly jumps back and forth between a few things.

First, his hometown. What will it be like, stepping into that place for the first time in years? How much has changed? Would anyone recognize him? Are his parents still there? Are they doing well?

Then, there’s the necromancer. He knows very little about necromancy, and he doubts that you and Hoseok know more than he does about it. Where did they come from? What is their goal? What do they want with his hometown? Would he and the others be able to face them? Or are they dealing with something far too dark and dangerous?

Then, of course, there’s you and the others. He knows you’ve braved dangers before: in your Harrowing, the night Blackstone Castle fell, and even recently when you’ve helped Seokjin against his former guild. He knows you and the others are perfectly capable and skilled individuals, and as a team, you’d be an unstoppable force.

But Namjoon still worries. His mind starts to think about the worst. What if something goes wrong? What if you get hurt? He’ll have no one to blame but himself. Maybe this is too risky. Maybe he should tell Jackson and Seokjin he’s changed his mind.

The door to his room slowly opens. “Joon?”

Startled, he shoots up and faces the door. His heart calms a bit when he sees that it’s you. “What is it, baby?”

You shut the door behind you.

It’s just you and Namjoon. Like old times.

“I just wanted to check on you,” you tell him, sobered up after drinking earlier. Even in your drunken stupor, you can tell something has been bothering him. Your voice is a gentle whisper, calm and comforting. It’s a stark difference to the whirlwind of thoughts storming in his head.

He reaches out to you as you step closer, until you’re right in front of him.

When he dreams of you, he always wakes up just when he has you in his grasp. Just when you’re his to hold. As your fingers delicately wrap around his, he’s almost afraid he’d wake up and you’d be gone again.

“I could be better,” he replies to you honestly. His gaze is still on your hand as his thumb brushes against the top of your knuckles. “I have a lot in my mind.”

“Wanna talk about it?” you ask, tilting your head.

He shakes his head. “Not tonight.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He meant to ask you to stay. To let him hold you for tonight, and keep the fears of potentially losing you at bay as you fall asleep in his arms.

“I love you.”

The words that fall from his lips instead surprises both of you. He sees your eyes widen, the way you catch your breath, the uncertainty on your face, as if you aren’t sure if you heard him right.

But his hand tightens around yours, pulling you closer.

Namjoon loves you. Truly, he does. He sees you in his dreams all the time.

Everything he loves. Everything he’s afraid to lose.

You’re on his bed now, your eyes falling on his broad shoulders and his bare chest. There’s a look in your eyes that he’s become all too familiar with.

He doesn’t know who makes the first move, but suddenly, you’re all over each other. He kisses you with everything he’s got, meeting your lips and tongue with his, as if tonight could be his last time to hold you, to make you his. He grunts when he feels you gently tug on his bottom lip with your teeth. And you whimper when his hand yanks the white fabric of your nightdress, thumb brushing against your nipple.

The second you’re out of your torn clothes, his mouth latches onto your other breast, tongue flicking the hardened bud. “F-Fuck, Joon.”

“Are you going to be good for me, baby?”

Your breath hitches as his fingers slowly trail down your abdomen and slot between your legs. You close your eyes, rolling your hips slightly as his long fingers slip past your wet folds. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” Namjoon praises, his voice so deep and low, it makes you shiver. “Come here. Wanna taste you.”

You obey, following his lead as he lies back on the bed again and makes himself situated. He guides you over him, and you’re careful of your weight on him as he holds your waist and thighs and eats you out.

He feels your muscles tensing and your hips bucking as the pleasure builds. But he keeps a tight hold on you, preventing you from squirming away as he works you open with his tongue. Your grip tightens around the headboard and your other hand tugs on his hair as his thumb rubs against your clit. “J-Joon, I’m s-so—”

Even without your warning, he knows. He gets you there, drinking you in, reaping his spoils as you start to come down from your high.

But it isn’t over.

Once his grip around you loosens, you turn over. Namjoon props himself up slightly, watching what you’re doing and groaning when he feels your hands and mouth on his cock. His fingers easily tease your entrance before slipping into you again, stretching you out, feeling you clench around them, before he decides to pull your hips closer for another taste.

It starts to feel like a competition. Like you’re trying to get him off first before he makes you climax a second time.

But Namjoon knows your body well, and you feel his tongue and fingers prodding, teasing, and hitting your sweet spot mercilessly. Your muffled moans with your mouth against him are driving him insane, and he barely edges you out – your legs quivering slightly from the intense pleasure – before he shoots his release in your throat.

Namjoon catches his breath as you roll onto your back, breathing just as hard as he is. He sits up to look at you, his mouth and chest wet with your arousal, and as you peer up at him with lust-filled eyes, he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.

More than what he deserves.

He caresses your thigh and smiles gently. “Tired?”

You scoff, breathless, but stubborn. As if admitting that you are means defeat. “I’m just getting started.”

Namjoon chuckles and then grabs your leg, pulling you closer. He aligns himself to enter you, moving slowly so you could adjust to his size. Your back arches slightly, face contorting at the pressure as your nails dig into his arms. You feel so good to him, he could never get enough of you.

He leans over to kiss you once he’s fully inside of you. “That’s my girl.”

“I’ll always be your girl,” you tell him softly, kissing his cheek.

Namjoon laughs, almost bashful with the way his heart flutters at that moment. You smile back at him, wrapping your arm around his neck as he begins to move.

His lips are on your throat, hands squeezing your breast and hips, whispered curses and grunts against your skin. It feels like wildfire every time. Heated, passionate, all consuming, like every touch and kiss sears his skin. Like every little moan and whine he hears from you compels him to make that fire grow. Then, only in the afterglow, he realizes it’s not the embers and ashes that remain. It’s warmth that fills his chest when he’s around you. It’s light that makes his heart glow with love. And he wants nothing more but to bask in it.

When he dreams, it’s always of you. Seductive, enticing, and tempting. But nothing compares to the real thing. Not even close.

Namjoon’s fingers absently trace patterns along your bare back. Your labored breaths have calmed down, slowly and evenly. Your lashes touch the top of your cheeks as you rest your eyes, and your tongue darts briefly to wet your pretty lips.

He can’t stop looking at you.

“You always do this,” you comment softly without opening your eyes.

His hand stills. “Do what?”

“You always watch over me,” you answer, opening one eye to peek at him. There’s a small, playful smile on our lips. “Even when we first started seeing each other, you always look at me so endearingly.”

Namjoon laughs, a bit embarrassed. He never thought you’d notice the tender, forlorn look on his face after spending a night together. “Stay with me tonight?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re falling in love with me, Kim Namjoon.”

He smiles at that, dimples appearing deep in his cheeks. “I already love you, baby.”

You snuggle a little closer to him, the teasing in your voice replaced with sincerity as you tell him, “I love you too.”

It isn’t often that you two say those words to each other, but it still makes him catch his breath every time you do. His arm wraps around you protectively as he kisses your hairline, and he sighs happily as you tuck yourself under his chin.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmurs quietly, closing his eyes. It feels nice to have you in his arms. It feels nice to have you so close. He feels like he can relax like this.

Then, you ask, “What did Jackson say to you?”

His eyes snap open, and he sees the concern on your face. You hold his gaze, curious, but also as if you’re not certain if you want to push for the answers.

“He showed me a quest, and asked if we can help him,” he explains, his grip tightening around you a little. “It’s in my hometown.”

You’re quiet as Namjoon tells you everything. From all the details pertaining to the mission to Jackson heavily implying he won’t be able to do it without you. If there really is a necromancer terrorizing the village, you have the best chance of stopping them. Your skill at spell-casting is unmatched compared to the others.

Part of him hopes you’d refuse it – that you’d realize the odds are against you with this type of Wicked magic, and how stupid and dangerous this could be.

But he knows you won’t.

You know that Namjoon couldn’t pass up on it. This mission is too important to him. He could lose his parents and his hometown for good.

And Namjoon knows, if nothing else, you’d want to do it for him. You’d do anything for him. He’d do the same for you.

When he’s done, he feels you wrap your arms around him in a gentle embrace. “It’s okay, Namjoon. I know you want to help. I’ll do my best to keep your village safe, too.”

Namjoon frowns. His heart doesn’t feel any lighter as he holds you close. He feels so vulnerable as he softly confesses, “I’m afraid to lose you.”

“Lucky for you, I’m not an easy person to take down,” you quip confidently. You push yourself up to look at him, and your hand cups his face. Your thumb gently wipes away the frown on his lips. “I can handle myself, Joon. You know I can.”

Namjoon wants to believe you. But his heart still feels heavy with worry.

The next morning, Namjoon gathers the residents of the shop and tells them the news. As expected, there’s a mixed reaction.

“A necromancer?” Yoongi repeats, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Sounds fun!” Taehyung exclaims, eyes brightening with the promise of adventure.

“Sounds dangerous,” Hoseok corrects with a frown and crosses his arms. “We don’t really know anything about dark magic or necromancy. How would we know what we’re truly up against?”

“We won’t know until we try,” you reason, glancing over at Namjoon. “As far as we know, there’s only one necromancer, and there are several of us. The people in that village need our help, and we might be their last hope.”

“If we’re not already too late,” Hoseok grimly states.

Taehyung suddenly stands. “What are we waiting for? We need to start packing now!”

“Taehyung, calm down. We should think this through first,” Yoongi points out, but the raven familiar is already taking flight. He transforms into a raven and goes straight to his loft above the library nook.

“I’ll need to start brewing some potions and antidotes,” Hoseok mutters, also standing and walking straight to the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he asks, “Do you think we can stop by the market for ingredients?”

“Can we get snacks too?” Jungkook timidly asks.

You laugh and rub his back. “We can’t have you hungry on our trip.”

“I’ll talk to the others and tell them about the quest.” Seokjin informs, heading upstairs to change out of his pajamas.

“Then, I’ll wake up Jimin. He’s still sleeping in the spare room,” you tell the ones left in the parlor. You glance over at Yoongi, who is already standing up to follow you. “Wanna help me bother him, Yoongi?”

He nods his head, a twitch of a smile on the corner of his lip, as he walks with you up the stairs.

That just leaves Namjoon and Jungkook. The mage sighs and runs his hand through his hair. Everyone took the news better than he thought.

Your party will consist of Jackson, the Oathkeepers, and the shop’s residents. There’s safety in numbers when traveling in such a large group. All of you are diligently preparing to face whatever dangers the roads and this necromancer can throw at you. And Namjoon is certain that you’ll all look out for each other, as you always do.

The only glaring thing is the necromancer. Hoseok is right when he said none of you know what you’re going to be up against. And that makes Namjoon nervous.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook asks when he sees Namjoon start to head to the other side of the parlor.

“I’m going to see if the library will have anything about necromancy,” he answers, though he doubts he’ll find anything useful. Even his magical nook of books might not hold what he’s seeking for. “We’ve never had to deal with this kind of magic before. I want us to be prepared.”

More importantly, he needs to know how he can protect you. It’s inevitable that you’ll have to face a powerful mage that controls the dead, but if he can find something – anything – to give you an upper-hand…

Jungkook is quiet for a long moment. His dark eyes stare at Namjoon in an almost penetrating gaze that starts to make him nervous. Then, quietly, he mentions, “You have to take their bells.”

“What?”

“They use bells to summon the dead and have them do their bidding,” he explains, just when he hears Hoseok calling for him in the kitchen. “Take their bells, and they can’t control the dead.”

With that said, he stands and heads to the kitchen, leaving Namjoon to stare after him.

He knows that Jungkook was previously with a mage that specializes in dark magic. He also knows that Jungkook doesn't talk much about that part of his past, if at all.

But as Jungkook disappears from the parlor, Namjoon can’t help but wonder if he knows more about dark magic than he lets on.

At dawn, you and the other shop residents meet up with Jackson and the Oathkeepers. It’s a long way to Namjoon’s hometown in Hawthorn Village, and Jimin agreed to keep an eye on the shop until you return.

“I’m sorry I can’t go with you this time.” Jimin holds you and peppers kisses all over your face. He wishes he could, but he has his own duties tying him to New Haven this time. “Take care and come home soon, okay?”

“I’ll miss you,” you reply sincerely, wishing he could come as well. Due to the nature of this quest, however, you couldn’t tell him the real reason you’re leaving town.

Instead, you simply tell him that you’re all visiting Namjoon’s family, and that Seokjin and his friends are escorting you all there while they have a job nearby.

It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the truth either.

Taehyung and Jungkook are excited about going on a real adventure this time. They both look eager to get started, rucksacks on their backs and anticipation in their eyes. It doesn’t matter to either of them what they’re facing, as going on a quest with their hyungs sounds more fun than anything.

Hoseok looks like he’s seconds away from a mental breakdown. He’s constantly checking and rechecking that you guys have everything you’ll need for this adventure. His wand is ready, tucked within reach. His rucksack is full of potions and ingredients. He checks with Yoongi to make sure they aren’t forgetting anything, and Yoongi shrugs and drawls that if it’s something they’ve forgotten, it probably wasn’t that important to bring along anyway.

Namjoon and Jackson stand apart from the others, seeming to be in a deep discussion about something. Since Jackson requested his help, Namjoon has been nervous about returning to Hawthorn Village, even if he tries not to show it. You often feel his worried gaze on you when he thinks you don’t notice.

Seokjin is with his friends, going over the map and figuring out the best routes to take. You see a side of Seokjin where he’s more serious than you’re used to, and perhaps on the surface, this is just another quest for him. But when you see him glance over at Namjoon, you know he’s in it for the same reason you all are.

You’re doing this for Namjoon.

Your heart feels conflicted when you catch Jimin staring at the others. It’s hard to keep things hidden from him – to keep him in the dark about everything – and you have a sinking feeling that he knows that you aren’t being completely honest with him. That you’re leaving him behind with purpose, and that you’re shutting him out from such an important part of yourself.

Maybe he doesn’t even believe your half-truth about simply visiting Namjoon’s family.

You wish you could tell him. You wish you could confide about your own worries about the mission. You wish you could’ve told him stories about Blackstone Castle when you had introduced him to Jackson.

Jimin turns his attention to you, and his eyes lingers on your face, seeing past the neutral mask you’re trying to keep on. “Is everything okay?”

You wish you could tell him the truth about you.

“There’s something I should tell you, Jimin…”

At that moment, Namjoon calls out to you. He has your pack over his shoulder, and a sheepish smile on his face when he realizes he’s interrupting you and Jimin. “We need to get going.”

“What did you want to tell me?” Jimin asks, curious now.

There’s so much you want to say. One day, you’ll tell him about how you and the others aren’t ordinary humans, that the building you all live in isn’t an ordinary shop.

But that day isn’t today.

“I’ll tell you when I come back,” you decide, touching his cheek. You kiss his lips and murmur, “I love you.”

A small, sad smile tugs on his lips before he kisses you again. “I’ll miss you.”

Reluctantly, you part ways with him and join the others. There is a lot of ground to cover between New Haven and Hawthorn Village, and each passing night will just make things harder for the surviving villagers.

“Ready to go?” Seokjin asks, looking at everyone. A unanimous sound of agreement is answered back. The party gathers into the horse-drawn wagons, and thus, the journey officially begins.

Your hand reaches for Yoongi’s – who automatically intertwines his fingers with yours – and you look over at Jimin one more time. He leans against a fence, watching as Yoongi helps you get onboard. When he sees you looking at him, he straightens up and mouths to come home soon before he waves goodbye.

“What were you and Jimin talking about?” Yoongi asks you, still holding your hand.

“I think I’m going to tell him about what I am,” you confess, a little nervous of what he might say. That he might convince you that this is a bad idea.

“You should,” Namjoon agrees, sitting on your other side. He rests his arm behind you, squeezing in so that everyone can fit. “It’s about time he knows about all of us, no?”

Yoongi glances at you with uncertainty, but mumbles, “If that’s what you want.”

A weight lifts off your shoulders as you smile. “Yeah, it’s been hard to keep things hidden from him all the time, you know?”

Namjoon nods and then, lowering his voice and leaning closer to you, he slowly asks, “Was it hard to keep us a secret? Back when we were at the castle?”

“A little,” you admit just as quietly. “Hoseok already knew. He said we were too obvious. My roommates were starting to get suspicious too, and I’m sure Jackson and our other friends would’ve figured out something was going on between us. I think it would’ve all come out eventually.”

“Would you have been mad if it did?”

“Not at all. It would’ve made things less confusing for me if we had been honest with each other from the start.”

In hindsight, neither of you had anything to hide. You both liked each other a lot, and even then, none of the guys were put off with the idea of sharing you. But magic comes with so much secrecy, it seemed natural to keep things hidden. To expect that your enamored feelings won’t be accepted because love is taboo for mages.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, frowning at the things he could’ve done differently.

“I’m not blaming you, Joon,” you assure him, using your free hand to touch his cheek. “What matters is where we are now. Not all the things we could’ve changed.”

His lips quirks into a small grin as he takes in your words. “You’re right.”

The two of you share a brief kiss as the horses continue to pull the wagon you’re all on. It’ll take you as far as the roads will lead, but there’s a shortcut through the forest that will cut your traveling in half. That route, however, will have to be on foot.

Conversations between the others overlap as the excitement of the journey is still high. But to your surprise, you see one person is quiet and lost in his thoughts.

Jackson doesn’t say a word during the whole ride.

Traveling down the familiar roads that lead to his hometown in Hawthorn Village brings Namjoon back to unpleasant memories.

He remembers the terror the night promises, as if it’s still fresh in his mind. The low, warning growl of predators and their glowing eyes in the shadows. The way his body shivers from the cold, and how his feet ache from walking. The exhaustion that tolls his small body, but he can’t afford to stop and rest or the wardens will catch up to him, as they always seem to do.

It felt like a hopeless task then. But Namjoon was stubborn.

He wanted to return home no matter what.

And now, years later, he finally will.

Seokjin is right about how things are different this time. Now, he has all of you beside him, instead of having to trek these roads alone. And that makes Namjoon worry.

“Watch out,” Namjoon warns, pulling you away from a green plant growing along the trunk of a tree. “Those plants are poisonous.”

“He’s right,” Hoseok agrees, examining them a little closer. You would’ve had an awful, itchy rash if you had accidentally touched them. He rummages through his pack and happily adds, “Luckily, I have an ointment for this kind of thing!”

“Careful, baby,” Namjoon says with caution a little later on. He holds onto you as he helps you down a slippery slope. “You might fall.”

Nearby, Jungkook is giggling when he sees Seokjin slip on the mud, staining his clothes with the wet dirt.

“Yah, Jungkook!” Seokjin snaps as he grabs the younger male by the ankle and drags him into the mud with him.

All day, Namjoon has been overly protective of you. Whether it’s a branch of a tree that’s hanging too low and blocking your path, a hole on the ground that you could easily trip over, or a mama bear and her cubs just passing through, Namjoon is there to guard you. Even if it means hurting himself.

“Joon, you don’t need to be so worried about me,” you assure him, sitting him down on a log and examining the cut on his arm. It’s bleeding, but it doesn’t look too deep.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Namjoon answers, wincing as you apply a bit of healing magic on the wound. Warmth spreads from your fingertips as it starts to close.

“I’m not the one with the cut,” you counter, gesturing at his arm. Thankfully, it just looks like a scratch now.

Being on the road isn’t too bad. After getting dropped off at the starting point of the forest, the excited chatter between you and the others lasts a good while, making the morale stay up. You all take breaks when you need to, make sure food and water is passed around, and keep an eye out for bandits, wild animals, and other dangers like low branches, poisonous plants, and pit holes.

After a while, the conversations die down to a mutual, tired silence. Everyone’s paces slow down significantly, and the breaks become more and more frequent. Jungkook quietly mentions that he’s getting hungry – the small snacks between stops aren’t enough for a meal – and Namjoon is certain he isn’t the only one.

No one protests when Namjoon suggests making camp at a clearing he finds. There’s unanimous relief as everyone begins to pitch their tents, make a campfire, and gather resources and ingredients to make supper.

Which leads to you and Namjoon, sitting together as you check the wound he gave himself when trying to protect you. He sighs and thanks you for treating him, barely feeling the sting of pain anymore. Part of him expects you to leave, but you still sit with him, watching as some of the guys play rock-paper-scissors to decide the order of night shifts.

Although you don’t admit it, you’ve been worrying about Namjoon too.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know you can handle yourself. It’s just…” Namjoon begins, rubbing his neck. “After everything that happened in Blackstone, I’m afraid to lose you. To lose everything again. Even now, I’m worried that you guys are putting your lives in danger because of me.”

“We’re here because we want to be, Namjoon,” you tell him with a small smile. “If it was Seokjin’s hometown under attack, or Jungkook’s, or anyone else’s at the shop, I know you’d want to do all you can to help too.”

“You’re right,” he says with another sigh. Maybe he’s worrying over nothing.

Your smile widens as you nudge him. “Are you nervous about going home?”

He chuckles dryly. That, certainly, is an understatement.

“I don’t think I know what to expect anymore. It’s been so long…” He lets himself trail off as his gaze turns to everyone else in camp. Taehyung is demanding a rematch as Hoseok throws his fist in the air and shouts in victory. Their rowdiness catches the attention of the others, who grin a bit at them as they decide to do another round. “My parents might still be in Hawthorn. If we have the chance, I’d like to talk to them. Tell them I’m sorry for burning down our old house, and that I miss them.”

“You could,” you assure him, giving him a comforting smile. “I don’t think the others would mind since we’re already there.”

He smiles a bit at that. Then, his heart flutters nervously as he proposes, “Would you come with me? When I go see them, I mean.”

You look a bit surprised. “I could if you want me to.”

“I do,” he quickly replies, a bit flustered. “It would be easier, I think. If you’re by my side at the time.”

“Then, of course I will.”

His smile widens and relief lifts from his shoulders, grateful you’ll accompany him. “Do you think they’ll forgive me? After all these years? It wouldn’t be too weird if I just showed up, would it? What would I even say to them?”

You laugh, and the sound makes his heart stutter. “I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t love you, Kim Namjoon.”

“Thank you,” he tells you softly, dimples popping at the shy grin. “For everything.”

Suddenly, the guys shout in disbelief and burst into laughter at the results of their game. You and Namjoon smile fondly at them.

“I don’t remember where I was born,” you confide to Namjoon. “I don’t know who my parents are, or if I have family that knows about me. So, when Blackstone fell, I felt like I lost the only place I knew was home as well.”

“Oh…” Namjoon frowns. He never considered any of the fortresses a home. It always felt more like a prison. But perhaps, to mages like you and Hoseok, who’ve been locked away in those towers all your lives, it’s different.

“But you know,” you continue. “I can’t say I’d ever want to go back to it. If we hadn’t run away – if we hadn’t made it to the shop – we wouldn’t have met Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. Seokjin wouldn’t be happy as a warden. And I might’ve never even had the courage to tell you and Hoseok that I love you.”

“Really?”

“Blackstone was my home. It was the only world I’ve ever known,” you say, your eyes still fixed on the others before you. “But I don’t ever regret leaving that place behind to be where I am now. With you and the others.”

In his dreams, Namjoon sees you again.

Your hand is in his, leading him away from camp while the others are asleep. Taking him to a secluded place in the woods.

It’s just you and him. Like old times.

Your back is pressed against the trunk of a tree. A seductive smile touches your lips as you wrap your arm around his neck. You pull him in for a kiss, and his hands glide up your body in a lustful hunger. He hears you panting as his hand slips between your legs, your lip biting back a needy moan, and your flirty eyes glancing up at him beneath your lashes.

His trousers fall down to his ankles, and he lifts one of your legs. You lean against the side of the tree, shifting your weight against the trunk, and look over your shoulder at him with a tiny nod.

A whistle of an arrow flies toward him, but it hits you. Right in the heart.

The flirty gaze turns to a look of horror and accusation. This is his fault.

You slump on the ground, cold and unmoving. Hunters gather around, pointing their weapons at him. Wearing similar faces of anger, disgust, and terror like the villagers from his hometown the night of his awakening.

Among them are the rest of the guys: Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung, Jungkook, and even Jimin. There’s disappointment and sadness in their eyes when they see your body. It turns to looks of hatred and distrust when they look at Namjoon.

It’s his fault you got hurt. It’s his fault things ended up like this.

Everything is his fault.

Namjoon feels so small again, like he’s a kid. Everyone gathers around him, wanting an explanation. Why is he born with magic? What wickedness has he done to be cursed with that power?

Your eyes are lifeless. Your skin is cold.

But with a distant twinkle of a bell, your head snaps toward him. Your jaw falls open too widely as an agonizing scream comes from your throat.

Namjoon wakes with a start.

Another dream about you, but this one is different. This one is a nightmare.

His heart races when he finds himself somewhere he doesn’t recognize. And it takes him a moment to place himself in a tent he’s sharing with you and the others.

Seokjin is at the far end, lying on his back with his face turned toward you. One arm is curled out beside him as his other hand rests on his stomach where Yoongi, in his cat form, has chosen to sleep. Hoseok has his arms wrapped around you and is curled up against your back. Taehyung has stolen his pillow, using it as a nest, as he tucks his head beneath his black feathers. Namjoon doesn’t see Jungkook right away, but he hears his low, steady croaks by his head, settled on the opposite end.

All of you are sleeping safe and sound, huddled together like a pile of puppies.

Namjoon smiles fondly at the sight, relieved to see that you’re unharmed. But the nightmare is still too fresh in his mind. Quietly, he decides to sneak out and get some fresh air.

A couple of the Oathkeepers and Jackson are keeping watch this time. His old friend looks surprised to see him, but doesn’t send him away when Namjoon takes a seat next to him by the fire.

“Aren’t you tired?” Jackson asks.

“I’ll go back in a bit,” he promises, frowning up at the sky. The night feels too long. Dawn doesn’t seem like it’ll break through soon.

For a while, the two sit together quietly by the campfire, lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly, Jackson asks, “Do you still think about that night? At Blackstone?”

The night of the rebellion. When Adriel summoned something Wicked from the depths of the Veil and made a contract with it. Power in exchange for his physical form.

“It’s not really Blackstone I think about,” Namjoon admits. The burdens he carries are longer and heavier than what happened the night you all escaped.

“I think about it all the time. Everything that went wrong. Everything that I could’ve done differently,” he sighs as he stares at the burning fire before him. “Adriel was my friend. I should’ve stopped him. I should’ve realized what he was doing was wrong.”

“Adriel just wanted us to be free,” Namjoon reminds him. There isn’t anything wrong with wanting that.

“And look where that got us,” Jackson bitterly retorts. “Adriel is dead. Most of us have probably been recaptured and sent back to a fortress somewhere. The rest of us are on the run, hiding our magic so we don’t get caught.”

Namjoon frowns. Jackson has a point. Even outside the castle walls, freedom still has its limits.

“None of us could’ve known what would’ve happened,” Namjoon reasons. “I don’t think Adriel even knew when he made contact with that Wicked.”

“But we could’ve done better!” Jackson snaps. There’s an anger in his eyes that Namjoon is all-too familiar with. A spiteful resentment that he, himself, has carried for years. “We were his friends. We could’ve checked up on him. We could’ve talked him out of doing something so goddamn dangerous. We could’ve saved him too.”

His voice shakes, eyes wild with accusation and guilt. You were all at the tower. You’ve all seen what Adriel had become. You’ve seen how Jackson desperately pleaded to his friend to recognize him, and how the Warden Commander ran a sword through Adriel when he did. It’s a scene that’s been haunting Jackson ever since he left the tower.

“Jackson…” he begins, but honestly, he isn’t sure what to say. Namjoon feels pity. He understands how Jackson feels. He’s been in his place, burdening shame and guilt over things he couldn’t control.

Namjoon is lucky to have you and the others to be there for him when the shadows of doubt and resentment become too much.

But Jackson… he doesn’t have anyone to rely on.

“What if that necromancer in Hawthorn is one of us?” Jackson asks, his gaze now steady at the fire again. “What if they’re someone from Blackstone? What if they’re just another Adriel that lost their way, and dipped into forbidden magic they’re no longer in control of?”

Namjoon hadn’t thought of that possibility. He always saw the necromancer as a vague, hooded figure in his mind. Someone that summons the dead and commands them to attack his hometown.

What if that person under the hood was a friend? An apprentice he had a class with? Someone he recognizes from the halls of Blackstone Castle?

“Then we stop them,” Namjoon answers, placing his hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “And we try to do better this time.”

“I hope we can, Namjoon. I can’t have another mage fall like Adriel did.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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