#however i still think this assignment is boring

[reminiscingthesea]

Part two of my stalker Phainon x nerdy reader fic!! You should be able to find part one just under this post!!

A/N- tysm again for the massive support and love on my last post, it’s honestly making me feel rlly happy and I’m genuinely considering making this a chapter by chapter fanfic (no promises tho idk what life may throw at me)

Synopsis- After establishing a friendship with you, Phainon simply can’t help but fall deeper in love with you. Yet, when an unknown variable- a pest- invades his peace, he feels as though things may take a dangerous turn for the worse.

Warning- Stalking, mentions of extreme violence towards another character, kidnapping, gore.

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Ever since you and Phainon became friends, the two of you would always be texting each other nonstop! Talking about silly things like teachers, cute videos, random drama, and also more in depth things, such as your shared interest of historical relics.

Because of this, the two of you would often set up dates hang out days to take each other to a local museum to research ancient relics or texts. Other days, when the two of you are both free, you’d each be cooped up in a corner of the campus’ library, reading literature and talking to each other with enthusiasm when an interesting point was reached. Albeit, not without the sound of angry shushing from the old, cranky librarian at the front desk. She could really hear everything..

However, when you reject Phainon on a day out to a relic site-seeing place, he feels confused, upset, dejected, but most of all, angry. Very angry, especially after finding out why you weren’t available.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Phainon. But I won’t be able to join you tomorrow on our little weekly day out. I have plans with someone called Mydei? You know him, right?” You spoke nonchalantly, flashing him a quick, apologetic smile as you watched him momentarily deflate at your initial rejection, before turning away just as quickly, not able to see his face morph into a look of wrath once you mentioned that name.

He stayed silent for a few moments, before beginning silently. His tone sharp and cold as he spoke, “Yeah, I happen to know who he is. Mydeimos, son of Gorgo or something. He’s a recent transfer student, isn’t he? What’s he hanging around you for?” He asked as calmly as he could, to mask his voice of envy and irritation behind his cool demeanour.

“Oh, uh.. yeah he is. He’s not very popular right now, so I was assigned to be his little study-buddy for the time being, sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s a bit stupid how they thought placing a quiet kid with another quiet kid was a good idea, but….” You rambled on about your school’s inadequacy or whatever, blissfully unaware that Phainon was indeed not paying any attention whatsoever, and instead, focusing on the numerous thoughts flying through his mind at 360mph.

‘Has she gotten bored of me now?’ ‘What does this Mydei have that I don’t?’ ‘I bet he’s really fucking ugly, he’s probably just a charity case in her eyes.’ ‘Who does this Mydei guy think he is?’ ‘Is he asking for a death wish?’ ‘Maybe I should slice him up into pieces, and serve his meat as meatballs for her-‘

Just as Phainon’s internal turmoil reached its peak, a quiet clear of the throat could be heard from behind the two of you.

“Oh, hello, [Name]. I was told you’d be here, should we get going?” A voice spoke. The pair of you, Phainon and yourself, turned around to the sound of the voice. You smiled brightly at the sight, waving at the guy with your hand. Phainon on the other hand, stood still in shock as he took in the other man’s appearance.

“Ah, Mydei! Hello! I was just finishing up with my friend here, Phainon. We can get going soon, I just need to fix something on my phone. The two of you can chat for a bit before I’m done!” You chirped happily, stepping to the side to fix whatever glitch was on your phone now. Shitty campus signal was really no joke.

Bulky, muscular, slight tan, short, golden wispy hair with slight red ends, enchanting golden eyes, not to mention, ridiculously tall, almost taller than Phainon.. he seemed to be a good contender for your love.

“..Are you just gonna keep staring at me or what? It makes you seem odd, y’know?” Spoke Mydei, his voice deep and rich, with a slight edge of aggressiveness to it. Stunning Phainon out his stupor, he laughed quietly and bowed a bit apologetically.

“Ah, I apologise, Mydei. I was just thinking about something, nothing more.” Flashing Mydei a quick, sweet smile, he was met with a questioning, curious look, that could almost be comparable to a glare. Phainon swore he could see a flicker of understanding and awareness through Mydei’s daybreak orbs for a split second as they darkened slightly, before a soft sigh could be heard from you in the distance.

“Still glitched out. I swear, this campus really does not care about their students. The signal is terrible! Anyways, Phainon, I need to get going with Mydei now. We can chat later!!”

You stood next to Mydei as the two of you began walking away, waving quickly at Phainon as you walked away. However, what you didn’t notice, was the death glare that Phainon was sending towards the two of you, especially at Mydei.

But Mydei saw. With the turn of his head, he saw those icy blue, once bright, now dark blue orbs cutting deep with their intense gaze. He didn’t shudder or tremble in fear, no. He simply kept a blank, unreadable look on his face, looking Phainon up and down with his eyes, as if scanning him carefully, whilst you’d talk about something random.

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“So, Mydei. You told me you like to bake, is that right? Would you like to teach me how to bake? I’m more-so good at cooking rather than baking.. I always make the desserts too raw, or too dry!” You were both now in his dorm as you ranted, placing your books and bags on his table, granted with his permission, as you joined him in his kitchen, which was so much tidier than most other student’s kitchens.

“Hmph. The art of baking stems from the heart. Even raw or over baked goods are still delicious if you know the person made it from their heart.” He declared respectfully, handing a small black apron to you, whilst putting on his own soft pink apron on.

“Uh, are you sure this black apron is for me? I’m pretty sure you should be wearing this one-“ You’re immediately cut off as he sends you a quick death glare, which shuts you up just as fast, but you could’ve sworn there was a slight flush to his cheeks, that matched his pretty pink apron for a few seconds.

“If you looked, you’d know that apron is clearly too small for me. Of course yours is the black one. What? A man can’t wear pink now?” He asked aggressively, but not without a hint of playful aggression laced into the threads of his serious tone.

“I-I never said that!” You waved your hands in front of your face in distress and apology

“Quit it, I was just teasing you.” He uttered again, a soft smile now on his face as he took in the utterly adorable pathetic sight of you trying to save your case hopelessly.

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After a while, you had managed to create an adorable set of yummy cupcakes with the helpful guidance of Mydei’s exceptional baking skills. Opening the oven door, a warm air of sweetness and cocoa hit your nose, before enveloping his whole dorm.

“Looking good,” Mydei praised as you carefully took out the tray with some oven mitts and bent down to place them on the stove atop the oven, before going back down to close the oven door again. But in the reflection of the oven, you saw something for a split second- Mydei’s gaze on you, your form in front of him. Before you could notice fully, he quickly averted his gaze back to the chocolate cupcakes in the baking tray.

Was he praising you?

As you got up, he spoke, bringing in a piping baggie and holding it in front of you.

“Now that the cupcakes are done baking, we’re going to have to wait a bit before we can ice them, since they need to cool down a bit first. Otherwise, the frosting would melt and go everywhere.”

He then brought together the ingredients to make the icing, as well as three food colourings tubes

“Now, you can decide between red food colouring, pink food colouring, or blue food colouring. I don’t really mind either way.” He said, handing the tubes to you to decide which colour to use.

You looked at the food dyes in your hand, deep in thought. See, you had wanted to gift some of these cupcakes to Phainon to make up for having to cancel your little hangout, but you also saw the way Mydei was eyeing the pink food colouring in your hand.

“Hmm.. I think I’ll go with the blue food colouring! You don’t mind that, right?” You asked gently, giving him a look of sympathy as you saw how he deflated slightly at your decision. He took the other dyes from your hand without a word, but you swore you could see a hint of a small pout on his face as he turned his back on you.

“That’s fine. I’ll help you make the icing, I just need to get the right nibs for the piping bag..” He spoke, momentarily distracted as he rummaged through his cupboard to find an appropriate nib. He came back a few moments later, standing next to you in front of the counter.

“We’re gonna be using a simple nib today, no designs. Since it’s your first time, you won’t be using any intricate designs.”

You pouted playfully as you helped him whip together a batch of icing, dipping in some of the blue food dye into the mixture, and watching as it turned from white to a pretty shade of cerulean blue almost resembling Phainon’s eyes.

“Really? I’m sure I could do it! Please, an intricate design would be so cute! Plus, I wanna gift some of these to my friend, so..” You pleaded gently, looking away in shame as he shot you a scowl, which really just made him look like a cat, or a young lion. He turned back to the bowl, whisking carefully, before muttering something almost incoherent under his breath.”

“Would’ve been cuter if you used the pink dye instead…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Now, I’m going to teach you how to pipe the icing properly onto the cupcake. We can still make cute designs with a simple nib, so just listen carefully.” He announced, almost sternly as he filled the piping bag with the light blue icing, twisting the nib onto the corner of the bag, before handing it to you and taking a chocolate cupcake out the tray and placing it in front of you.

“Ice it.” He said, staring down at you as you held the bag almost cluelessly in front of you.

“I thought you were gonna help me..” You inquired meekly

“I just wanna see how bad you’ll do, that’s all.” He quipped back, a sly grin on his face as he stepped away from you. You could only narrow your eyes at him as you turned to try and ice the cupcake.

That poor cupcake was now subject to messy, uneven scribbles of azure blue icing, your handiwork was truly poor. You sulked, not being able to even take your eyes off the now eyesore of the cupcake, lest to not have to see Mydei’s face, which was probably adorned with a giant, stupid smirk.

But he wasn’t Phainon, as he chuckled softly and leaned his head near yours, trying to catch a glimpse of your sullen expression.

“You don’t have to pout like that, y’know? Not everyone’s going to get it right on their first time.” He sighed, his voice now taking on a more mellow, kinder, tone, more patient, as it was devoid of any aggression or abrasion. He then simply pushed that cupcake to the side and brought out another one from the tray, before wrapping his big, muscular arms around your form, gently holding you by the hand with his larger hand, as if guiding it.

“Just follow my lead, I’ll help you..” He spoke gently, almost intimately, as he whispered into your ear, huskily, coaxing your hand to lift the piping bag once more with his.

“Mydei..” You spoke hesitantly, shyly, as your cheeks flushed, which he could see through the faint red that dusted onto the curve of your cheek from behind, and on your ears.

“Call me Mydeimos, yeah?” He breathed richly into your ear as he steered your hand with his, squeezing it to coerce you into squeezing the piping bag tight once more, to start icing the cupcake.

You stayed silent as he helped you, but yoy couldn’t help but feel so unfocused as he stayed so close by to you. How his warm breath on your neck as he leaned down to whisper instructions or words of praise into your ear from behind, how it tickled the inside of your ear a little.

After some time, the cupcakes were all beautifully decorated with the icing, with pretty, intricate designs made with the piping bag due to his ‘guidance’

“Look at that, masterpieces in less than ten minutes. You’re a pro already.” He praised, his tone now becoming less husky and quiet, returning to its normal deep and resonate tone as he pulled himself away from you.

“T-thank you.. this was mainly your doing though, you helped me move my hand in all the right places and all..” You muttered quietly, blushing softly as you met his gaze.

“You’re being a lot quieter than you were before when you were with that.. Phainon? guy. Are you two..?”

“Oh- we’re not.. yet but he’s been acting odd lately. More distant and passive-aggressive at times..” You said sadly, thinking back to his colder tone as you told him about Mydei at the start of the day.

“Well.. maybe these cupcakes will make him feel better. You too seem to be close friends, so I’m sure he’d appreciate the gesture.” He answered calmly, almost sympathetically. But, a flicker of a possessive, almost excited glint glimmered in his eyes for a split second as he spoke.

Did he have a chance with you? He did enjoy your company after all

“You’re right,” You sighed “he’s normally really bubbly, so I’m sure something sweet and cute like this will definitely lift his spirits!”

Mydei could only look at you with an adoring unreadable gaze as you began packing up the cupcakes in a tidy container you had brought along with you to his dorm.

Suddenly, you felt one of the cupcakes being pushed towards your lips, the blue icing smearing a little onto your pretty lips.

“Wha-“

“It’s the failed cupcake, just eat it. I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate it” He stated jokingly, shoving the dessert further until you opened your mouth to get it with a muffled giggle, covering your mouth and turning to face him, cautiously taking the cupcake from his hand and looking up at him.

“Thanks again, I really enjoyed this.. I didn’t think you’d be into these sorts of things, but I’m glad I got to know you and your interests..” You mused calmly, fully aware of the close proximity between the two of you yet again. You were almost pinned against the counter by him as he kept his hand firmly next to your torso on the counter next to you

The two of you could only stare at each other longingly for a few moments, before you both blushed and pulled away from each other.

“A-anyways.. I need to get back to my dorm now, I really enjoyed your company agai-“

“Let me take you. It shouldn’t be too far, right?” He cut you off, albeit, politely due to his sincere intentions. He didn’t give you a moment to think as he helped you pack your things, slinging his keys around his fingers, creating a quiet jingle sound as he did.

“Sure, I guess. We do both live on the same floor, no? Let’s get going then.” You turned to take your things from him and grab the tub of cupcakes on the table, before making your way to his door.

However, before following you, Mydei couldn’t help but momentarily turn his head over his broad shoulder, looking through the window behind his sink. His expression was dark as he felt another presence nearby, that obviously wasn’t yours. It was now dark outside, so he couldn’t see clearly. And he didn’t want to keep you waiting to go check up and confirm his suspicions. So, he simply smirked to himself and the dark outside world beyond the window.

He knew you were being watched and listened to the whole time, so why not give a little show, no?

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Phainon gritted his teeth and almost bared them like an angry dog’s at the entire spectacle from outside his window. You were now long gone from Mydei’s dorm, he had already slipped back into his own dorm, to avoid being caught by Mydei, who was already onto his ass from the very beginning.

“Shit. Fucking piece of shit. Who does that guy think he is? Touching her up, holding her like he’s fucking her. Whispering into her ear from behind like that.” Phainon mumbled angrily to himself as he tore a new one into a poor, fluffy pillow on the ground.

He pretended the pillow was Mydei. How he’d tear his resilient skin off his muscles, rip out each and every one of his axons and nerves, tear through that generous muscle of his, that almost rivalled his own. How he wanted to blend up his organs, crush up his skull, and serve it all raw to you, to show you his devotion.

But he knew you’d run away in fear, never want to speak to him again, be scared of him for the rest of your life. And he didn’t want that. In fact, he wanted the complete opposite. He wanted you to rely on him, make you depend on him. He wanted you. All to himself. No more beating around the bush, you belonged to him. And messing with a potentially even messier dog for food may result in trouble. So why not go for the food first before the other dog gets to it first?

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It had been a few days since your hangout with Mydei- or Mydeimos as he wanted you to call him.- The friendship between the two of you grew stronger, and you were happy about that! But there was still a growing ache in your heart.. what about Phainon?

He hadn’t contacted you throughout the days that had passed, and he wasn’t at his dorm either whenever you knocked to come check up on him whenever you were free. Initially, you had thought he was busy with his own classes, sports activities or whatever, but even during the times where he too was free, you could never find him, anywhere. Not in his dorm, the gymnasium, the gym, museums, cute cafes, nowhere. It also didn’t help how any text you send was always left on delivered. You were becoming worried, but most of all, upset.

You missed him, you wanted to see him, you didn’t like the thought of him being angry at you because of something you did. You had to make it right, you just had to.

It was a cold, winters evening, where the sun was already beginning to set at the dusking time of 6pm in the afternoon. You walked with determination to one of Phainon’s favourite places- grand library, much greater than the one on your campus- You had remembered when Phainon took you there during the holidays at the end of the first semester, noting how it was absolutely filled with loads of historical textbooks and fiction.

You had hoped, that just by a miracle, you would be able to find Phainon there, or at least get him a few books for him as an apology gift for canceling on him for someone else, even if it seemed small in retrospect.

However, the roads and streets were desolate, quiet, empty. Nobody liked going out or hanging around during these times due to the dark weather, and the gloom it brung along with it. But you were calm, you wouldn’t be out for too long anyways, the library wasn’t too far from your college’s campus to be out for so long.

What you didn’t know, was that someone was watching you, following you, drawing closer and closer as you advanced deeper into the darkness, until-

“What’s all that runni- HEY-! MMPH!! MMHMPH—-mmph- hmmgh-.. mmh…”

An unknown perpetrator had grabbed you from behind, their arms held tightly around you like a vice as their hand brought up a cloth to your nose and mouth, drenched in a form of anesthetic, forcing you to inhale the chemical skillfully. Once the unknown person knew you had been knocked out, they rid you of your belongings, discarding them on the ground besides you aimlessly, before dragging you away, and taking you someplace else, disappearing with you into the night.

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A few hours later, your eyes fluttered open with a few blinks, taking in your surroundings. It was dark to say the least, and cold, probably dirty too. Your vision was blurry, as it took you time to adjust. Once you did, you realised you were bound tightly to a chair, unable to move a limb, even by a tiny spasm from your muscles. There was also a cloth wrapped tightly around your lips, muffling any noise coming from your mouth.

Trembling in fear, you teared up. Was this the end? Were you about to be killed? Why would someone do this? Where’s Phainon? Phainon won’t know where you are.. You’re gonna die knowing Phainon hates you- Phainon- Phainon-

You didn’t even realise you were calling out Phainon’s name, even if it was muffled by your gag, as you felt a sharp, cold knife being pressed against the large vein in your neck from behind. Whimpering softly, you shut up, sweat beading at your forehead, as tears began streaming down your cheeks.

“So very pretty, aren’t you? A pretty little thing like you should know not to stay out so long i

n the dark, don’t you have a boyfriend to keep you safe?” They spoke, his voice sinister and low as he spoke, roughly yanking the cloth from around your mouth downwards to let you speak.

But you could only whimper pathetically again, your throat feeling dry as the words fell on your mouth.

“I don’t have one..” You answered weakly, your voice strained from the anesthetic previously used on you a few hours prior, from the dryness of your mouth and throat, due to the lack of water, and from your short sobs.

The figure chuckled lowly, evilly, a bite of inhumanity lingering in the sound.

“What a shame.. nobody to protect you, nobody to save you, nobody to help you, nobody to run to, nobody to love…”

Thoughts swarmed your mind as you thought of the endless possibilities of what may happen to you here. Bad thoughts, thoughts that made you even more scared, and cry even harder, louder. To which, you began to sob out loud. A genuine sound that your kidnapper took great pleasure in hearing. You felt their presence behind you back away, only to appear in front of you. They were masked, gloved, concealed fully in all black, with the exception of their eyes, which you couldn’t make out the colour of due to their mask almost covering it up completely.

Not being able to face the kidnapper eye to eye, you turned your head to the side and sobbed, not caring how stupid you may have looked as it lolled over the chair to the side. But they clearly weren’t having it, as they drew their knife under your chin, lifting it up with its sharp edge, to meet their thunderous gaze once more, eliciting a shudder and gasp from your lips.

“What’s the matter? I just want to see your face as I slice you open an-“

Their words are cut short as they gurgle on something- blood, before falling to their knees and side in front of you. What stood behind them shocked you to your core.

It was Phainon, standing tall above the man with a dagger in his hand, now coated in blood. His gaze was icy cold as he stared the kidnapper down, who looked back at him with a look of shock, and also, betrayal?

Before the kidnapper could get another word out, Phainon stepped on the back of your captor’s neck, crushing it with his weight, before turning back to you, who was horrified and motionless, face turning pale.

“P-Phai-“ You choked out, before sobbing loudly in fear and relief. His gaze immediately turned to one of immense worry and love as he dropped the dagger and cradled your face in his hands, looking at you with eyes full of distress, scanning over your form with despair.

“[Name], [Name]! Listen to me, you’re fine, you’re okay. Shh.. Hey- stop crying, please.” He gently patted your cheeks as he got down on his knees in front of you, having kicked the now dead body of your kidnapper away.

When you didn’t stop crying, he could only wince in sadness and frustration, making quick work at the rope around your legs that bound them to the chair’s legs. He whispered soft shushes to try and alleviate you somehow, which obviously didn’t work.

Once he had untied the rope’s tight knots around your ankles, he moved behind you to untie your arms from behind your back over the chair, which soothed a soreness from there that you didn’t even pick up when you woke up as he loosened the rope. He kept muttering small “I’m sorry..”’s into your ear from behind, his voice ever so soft and comforting.

Having fully untied you, he took you off the chair and brought you down onto the floor with him, cradling you against his large, warm torso, stroking your hair as you sobbed into his chest, soaking his light blue hoodie.

After some time, you had calmed down, albeit, still sniffling and choking slightly as you tried to speak.

“P-Phainon.. I— hic- I’m s-so sorry… I w-wanted to apologise- sniffle- but-“

“Shh.. it’s fine, [Name]. You shouldn’t be the one apologising, it should be me. I… I got you into this mess because of my own pride and communication issues, even if you told me to improve on it. I’m sorry, you’re safe now. Please don’t apologise, I was so worried when you weren’t picking up my calls…”

You heard a sob coming from him as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, crying gently at his own stupidity, the same stupidity that got you in this position. You couldn’t help but rub his back gently, trying to comfort him now, but he only let out a slight huff at your actions.

“..You shouldn’t be comforting me.. I got you into this mess, I almost got you killed. I was so stupid I-..”

“Phainon, i-it’s fine. You got me out of this mess, didn’t you..? And- and I don’t blame you for ghosting me or keeping your distance from me- I shouldn’t have cancelled plans on you last m-minute.. you didn’t know it’d end up like this..” Your voice was calmer now, less broken and fixing up as you spoke, trying to reduce his stress and worry.

‘You didn’t know it’d end up like this’ what a joke. He thought to himself.

“I just.. I was so worried. I tried messaging you back at 8pm to talk it out, because I knew you were most active during those times, but you didn’t answer. I spammed you so much and tried calling you so many times, but no answer…” He let out a shaky sigh as he ran a hand through his hair before continuing, “..I went to your dorm, knocked and waited there for so long, but you weren’t answering- I was terrified at that point.. Then, I went out and tried looking for you outside campus, still didn’t find you. And then- I saw it all.. your things. Your bag, your phone, everything- on the ground near some old trash cans near the side of the road. It took me ages to find you, but I spotted some desolate area and thought I’d try my luck, and thank goodness I did..”

He hugged you closer, before picking you up in a princess carry delicately, as if you were made of glass due to your more fragile state. He soon made his way out the room, making his way through the labyrinths of rotting walls and long, creepy corridors. He made sure your head was tucked away under his chin in the crook of his neck, so he could hear your breathing through his ear, in case anything went wrong.

“I have your phone and keys with me too, they must’ve fallen out whilst your kidnapper took you away, hm? Must’ve been terrifying, poor thing..” He gently swiped a piece of hair away from your face, which was all red, puffy, and wet from all your crying, giving you a pained expression in return to the sight.

As he carried you back into the campus, everything was a complete blur, and he could only slowly rock you back and fourth like a baby, to ease your nerves and mind, and coerce you back into reality as he swiftly entered your dormitory’s floor, reaching for the key in his pocket and unlocking the door swiftly.

He carefully lay you down on your room’s couch, getting on his knees again and stroking your head gently, a sad, hurt look on his face as he acknowledged your agitation and trepidation, after such a frightening experience.

“Just rest now, okay? You look so tired.. Don’t worry, [Name], I’ll keep you safe and watch over you. Just get the sleep that you need..” He lightly commanded, staying there, on his knees, until you drifted off into the realm of dreams peacefully.

He sighed in exhaustion as he got up, rubbing his forehead and looking at you with pure love in his eyes.

“…You know why I had to do this, right? Why I had to have some disgusting kidnapper take you away for some time? I need your love, your attention, your trust in me.. I’m so, so sorry, my love, but I had to. Otherwise, that pest- no. That virus, Mydei, would’ve taken you away from me, and I just can’t let that happen. I can’t imagine a life without you, [Name]….” He preached reverently, as if he was looking down at you like you were the embodiment of the divine, speaking to you as if you were his God. But you were. You were his to worship, his to love, his to keep safe. And he was going to make sure of that. One way or another, even if it meant hurting you in the process.

You belonged to him and him alone.

[loganremade]

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[giogiobb]

Tease pt.1

Nerd!Armin x Reader

tags: teasing, drinking, tongue piercing (obviously), semi-public sex, oral fixation, cunnilingus, edging, breath play, overstimulation, gagging, mirror play, biting, mild pain play, smut

inspired by fanart from: @musapylsa

→ pt.2

You were called by your lecturer to wait along with Armin. “Yes, professor?” you said while impatiently waiting to leave class. “Your last assignment was lacking. So, I’m assigning Armin here to tutor you for a few weeks” he said while looking through some papers. You looked over at Armin who was looking at the lecturer absent-mindedly. “Is that okay with you Armin?” the lecturer asked looking up from the papers. “Yes, all good with me.” he piqued while nodding. You didn't have it in you to ask whether that was really necessary. “Alright, thank you professor. Have a good day” you said wanting to hurriedly leave. You walked out of the class not waiting to hear a response because you didn't have any interest in doing the tutoring lessons.

However, Armin on the other hand took any tutoring requests seriously. “Hey, wait up.” he lightly jogged towards you to catch up with you. “Listen Armin, I know you’re a teacher's pet or whatever but I don’t need tutoring lessons so I have to go now.” You said annoyedly. “Yeah well it’s not convenient for me either but I have to do it or else he will question my capability if he sees that your grades are still bad.” He said bluntly. You stared at him blankly, mouth ajar in shock because you didn’t expect him to be so straightforward. You always considered him to be a pushover because of how he looked. “Okay fine, let’s go to the library now if so. I have somewhere to be tonight.” He nodded and began following you to the library.

You sat across him at the table, legs crossed and bouncing under the table. You were bored out of your mind and your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing but he already gave you an annoyed look because of it so you took it off the table and kept it in your bag. Instead of looking at the words written on his book, you kept glancing towards his hand moving on it. He has really beautiful hands, you wondered and your mind wandered to what he can do with it. He then slammed his hand on the book to get your attention which pulled you out of your trance making you look up at him. “Are you even paying attention?” He said with a hint of sternness which you wouldn’t have caught if he didn’t have your full attention. “Um, yeah of course. Why would you think I’m not paying attention?” You said while giving a half hearted chuckle. He just gave you a light glare and continued on with the tutoring. You sat there intrigued by this side of him which you didn’t know existed. Heck, you even felt a bit attracted and wanted to know him more because of it. While teaching, he stretched his leg towards you brushing past your ankle. He looked up from the book to see you squirm a bit with a soft blush spread across your cheeks. He knew you were staring at his hands and he wanted to mess with you a bit more but thought it would be too mean to do so on the first day itself 

After an hour, Armin decided to wrap up because he didn’t want to overwhelm you with the content by teaching everything on the same day. “I’ll be leaving now. See you tomorrow. Same time, same place.” He said while packing up. You didn’t even realize an hour went by. “Oh, uh sure yeah. See you tomorrow.” When he walked away you kept staring at his back. Though he wasn’t the tallest, you also didn’t realize that he had kind of a lean build under the baggy t-shirts that he wear.

-

Next day you meet him at the same time, same place wearing quite a raunchy outfit you’d say. After all, you were going clubbing after this with some of your girlfriends. He glanced you up and down before pulling out and patting on the chair next to him today. You walked over and sat on it feeling a bit proud that you made a nerd like him check you out since you have never seen him talk to any girls before. You pulled the chair closer towards him and the table to settle in. “Shall we begin?” You asked him innocently with a smile on your lips. He cleared his throat and pushed his glasses further on his nose bridge and nodded.

Almost half an hour into the tutoring, you started to feel bored from just looking at how his hands moved on the book with the pencil and how his adam's apple moved up and down as he kept teaching you the content. On the other hand, Armin also kept stealing glances at your chest that were slightly spilling out from your V neck top. He snapped out from both tutoring and taking looks when he felt your warm thigh press against his from the side. You moved closer towards him, both your arms slightly brushing against each other. Armin didn’t like this teasing as much as you thought he would. Solely for the reason that it wouldn’t be right to lean over to kiss and ruin you for trying to push him over the edge. He gripped the pencil even more, knuckles turning white. He continued teaching while she stared at the book. He moved towards your neck, ever so slightly just to make you feel his hot breath on your neck as he spoke. You felt yourself squirming and becoming breathless with unholy ideas running through your mind. You couldn’t take it anymore and moved your chair a bit away from him. You couldn’t risk ruining your black lace panties before the night even began.

Time passed slower than yesterday and he wrapped up. “Any plans for tonight?” You asked him curiously. “No, you?” He answered a bit surprised that you wondered about his personal life. “Yeah, I’m going to a club with some friends” You answered as you watched him pack up. “Enjoy if so. I’ll text you next week about tutoring. Goodnight.” He answered and walked away not waiting for your reply since you both exchanged numbers yesterday at the beginning of the tutoring session. You watched him walk away but was snapped out of it when you felt your phone buzz. When you moved towards the table to look at your phone screen, Armin stopped walking and turned his head a bit to take one more glance at your bare legs as you wore a mini jean skirt only. He left with a head full of dirty thoughts.

As he walked towards his dorm room, Eren stopped him just to drag him to a club. Armin has said no enough times but lost a bet the last time they hung out so he had no choice but to go with Eren after dropping his bag off in his room. 

-

You entered the club lit in a purple hue of lights with white lights brightly flashing in different spots. You head to the bar and wait while your most confident friend chatted up some guy named Jean and got him to buy you all some drinks. While you were enjoying the drinks and dancing around, at the corner of your eye you spotted a certain blonde in the same green shirt you saw him in earlier. You thought to yourself that you might or might not be mistaken so you decide to follow the blonde you saw. He stood near a round high table with a goth girl and a frat boy clinking drinks. You watched as he downed the shot with ease and felt the burn of it in his throat reflecting on his face. He then turned around and you were right, it was Armin.

You felt quite shocked and a bit betrayed if you were being honest. Because the good boy image of him that you had in your head wasn’t somewhat true, but it also made you want to approach him. Yet for some reason, now that you find him attractive you felt awfully nervous. You turned around towards where your friends were and began walking away, until you felt a hand grab your wrist. You quickly turned around just to see Armin holding your wrist with his cheeks flushed pink.

He led you to the side a bit away from the crowd and leaned towards your ear to say “Can I kiss you?”. He caught you off guard and before you could register what he said, you felt your head nod. He leaned towards your face and began slowly pecking while holding your waist. Your hands roamed on his body and gripped his shirt to pull him closer. He felt the urge to deepen the kiss so he grabbed you by the back of your throat and tilted his head to the side so that his glasses won’t dig into your cheeks too much. You took a deep breath and began kissing him back deeply while your hand planted onto his hair pushing him closer. You felt his tongue swipe on your lips indicating you to open your mouth, and when you did his tongue began roaming your mouth like it was inspecting the inside.

Suddenly, you felt a warm metal in your mouth and you pulled away wondering what it was. Armin felt your body stiffen up as you pulled away and he knew exactly what it was. He knew that you felt his tongue piercing which was a surprise to you. Before he went in for another, he took one of your hands 2 fingers to make you swipe on his tongue to make you feel his piercing after he stuck his tongue out to show it. Your eyes widened because you didn't expect him to have such a provocative piercing. You moved your hand to the side of his face to grab it towards you to go for another kiss. This time you felt confident and he felt impatient to feel your lips again.

Both of you kissed for what felt like hours before you started dragging him to an out of order washroom. It hasn’t been in use for months because of a shattered mirror so it was convenient.

You entered with him and locked the door before heading towards the countertops. You started leaving kisses and hickeys on his neck while your hand roamed on his body under the shirt inching towards his growing bulge. He let out soft whimpers and moans while breathing heavily and gripping the edge of the countertops. You palmed his bulge over his jeans just to tease him, making him buck his hips up towards your palm. You let out a quiet giggle seeing his reaction and he knew you’d be just teasing him for way too long if he let you.

So he moved his hand towards the hem of your skirt and lifted it up revealing your lacy panties. The thought of you wearing it earlier to the tutoring lesson when you both teased each other made him feral. He moved his fingers to your heat over the panties making you bite your lips and breathe towards his neck. He felt himself lean towards your hot breath as he rubbed slow circles on your clit. You wanted to release so bad at this point you couldn’t be bothered to palm his bulge. Instead your hand reached towards his wrist to keep it still as you humped his hand.

To your dismay, he moved his hand away and made you lean on the countertop instead. He reached to your top to pull it down to your waist leaving your matching bra on. He grabbed one of your boobs while he left kisses and nibbles on the other leaving your nipple alone just to edge you. He moved one of his legs in between yours making you straddle it leaving you on your tip toes. Your heat was now on his thigh making you move your hips involuntarily. He kept pushing his leg towards you just to apply pressure. You felt your eyes roll back as you rode his thigh trying to catch your release, but as soon as you got close he moved his leg away making you whine.

He unclipped your bra from the back and circled your nipple with his tongue. The feel of his tongue piercing cold on your nipples made it even harder than before. After doing so for a bit, he began squatting down, leaving soft nibbles and feeling all your curves with the same hands that you were dreaming about since yesterday. His face finally reached your heat and he looked up at you while hiking your skirt up. He then gripped your panties from the sides to pull them down and off your legs just to stuff it in his pocket. You felt a bit shy now that you were bare and more naked than him. However, all that embarrassed thoughts went out the window when he began licking your clit with his tongue and caressing your folds with his fingers. You let out a moan feeling the touch you have been edged for too long. “So wet. Just for me.” He slightly smirked against your folds as he whispered just enough for you to hear. You felt your cheeks heat up more than you thought were possible when you heard. Not a minute later, he began eating you out as if it’s the first meal he’s having today. Your hand gripped his hair pulling his face towards your heat just to ride it. The way his cold tongue piercing kept hitting different areas of your heat made you lose your mind. Not too long after that, you felt yourself reach your first climax which washed over you making you feel so much pent up relief, but as you were catching your breath, Armin had other thoughts than to let you rest.

He felt your folds even wetter than before and plunged a finger deep in you making you pull his hair a bit harder than you wanted to. The thing about him though is that he loves and can handle pain very well. One reason why he has the piercing that he has. He added 1 more finger and began fucking you at a fast pace making you overstimulated. He stood up while still having his fingers in you and began kissing you while resting his other hand on your throat with a light pressure at the right spots. You felt yourself having a hard time to breathe because of it along with the pleasure he was giving you. He moved his lips away from yours and began leaving hickeys on very visible areas but you were seeing stars at this point so you could care less. You felt another climax approach soon and he knew as he felt you clench around his fingers. He helped you ride out your high while fucking you with his fingers leaving your heat pulsating.

He looked deep in your eyes as flashed his tongue just to lick his fingers that were dripping in your wetness. He licked them suggestively enough to make sure your breath hitched as you watched. You instinctively stuck your tongue out wanting him to do the same and worse to you. He took this as a sign to do the same and gripped the back of your throat before putting the same fingers deep in your mouth reaching your throat. It made you gag and have teary eyes but it burned so good as he moved. You swirled your tongue around his fingers tasting you and himself. It felt dirty but in the best way possible. He took his fingers out with a pop before unbuckling his pants to give himself a few pumps.

He held your arm and turned you around to make you face the mirror that was behind you the whole time. You faced the mirror and watched him from the mirror as he began lining his cock towards your entrance. He gave a few teasing nudges with his tip right before he sank fully into you. To your surprise, for a nerdy guy, he sure was packing. You felt yourself stretch around him which hurt so much.

After all, you have never had sex before despite how you presented yourself. You felt your eyes tear up and he noticed it in the mirror. He began hushing you as he slowly moved hoping it would soothe the pain. After taking a hot minute to adjust yourself to his length, you lifted your head up with hands on the countertop holding onto dear life to make eye contact with him from the mirror. His glasses were starting to now fog up ever so slightly making him look even more mysterious than usual. He held your hips and began fucking you fastening the pace. Your head dropped once again, but this time, he held your jaw and forced you to look towards the mirror so you could make eye contact with him. “Watch while I fuck you.” He lowly said into your ear and moved away after licking a stripe on your ear making you shiver. He began fucking you faster while gripping your hips enough to bruise them. Every now and then he would also give your round butt a squeeze making you moan and squirm.

As he kept fucking you, you became louder which could be risky because anybody could hear. He reached into his pocket and fished out your panties that he put in earlier. He grabbed it out and stuffed them into your mouth catching you off guard. He then grabbed both your wrists with one hand and your hair with the other. He pinned your wrists to your back while he pulled you by your hair towards his chest. He then moved it to your jaw holding your face in place while he fucked you deep with hard thrusts making his tip kiss the cervix in a way you didn’t think was possible. Your mouth was salivating so much to the point that there was spit leaking from the sides because of the way your panties were gagging you. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear making you all hot and bothered even more because of his breath as he fucked you.

He pulled out and reached for the panties in your mouth taking it out. It made you cough a bit before you began catching all the breath you lost. He then flipped you towards him and made you sit on the countertop between the two mirrors. When your butt touched the cold marble countertop, you felt so sensitive. You reached towards his shirt and tugged it upwards making him remove it. You admired his flushed body that was glistening in a thin layer of sweat. He threw the shirt next to you and went in for a kiss as he entered in you again.

This time he focused on getting himself off. So he gripped your waist and began grinding into you desperately. His pubic bone kept pleasuring your clit because of the position making you leave scratches on his back shoulders. This had him moaning and whimpering while yearning for release. He kept fucking you for a good while before he finally felt himself spasm indicating climax. You felt his thrusts become sloppier and held him closer wanting him to finish in you, and he gladly did groaning into your ear. While he kept cumming in you, he rubbed circles on your clit pushing you over the edge and making you cum for the third time that night. He had you biting his shoulder blade to mask the loud moan as he hugged you while you rode out your release while shaking.

You stopped biting and looked at him trying to find his eyes, but because of his fogged up glasses you couldn’t. So you reached towards it and pushed it up to his hair before locking eyes giving one final deep kiss for the night. Afterwards only you realised what you both had done and it left you dreading for the next tutoring lesson. While Armin on the other hand knew exactly what you both had done and couldn’t wait for the next tutoring lesson.

hope you guys enjoyed this.♡ྀི

word count: roughly 3400 words

a/n: lmk if you guys want a 2nd part cause i might have an idea on how to write one more part. :3

[joemama-2]

𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 & 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚

・❥・ pairing: veteran! levi x fem reader

╰┈➤ synopsis: known as ‘marley’s darling’, your father, a high-ranking marleyan diplomat, introduced you as his pride and joy since you were out the womb. dazzling smiles, coy and subtly flirtatious remarks, an innocent but seductive allure that keeps you in the eyes of the public. with concerns for your safety, your father hires levi ackerman as your personal bodyguard, a war hero to some, a warm criminal to others. the same man who fought against your people.

・❥・ wc: 7k

・❥・ tags/warnings: age gap, levi is in his late thirties, reader is 26, angst, fluff, smut, alcohol, drugs, war veteran! levi, reader takes inspo from marilyn monroe, mentions of ptsd, depression, death, post! war, prejudice, guns, knives, violence, reader is marleyan, slow burn, sorta opposites attract?, dark themes, cussing, gross men, no titans! modern au, may have some canon divergent elements (e.g. levi has both legs still lol)

・❥・ series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

“Don’t you already have bodyguards? Multiple of them?” 

“Yes, but apparently I’m this one’s specific responsibility.” You sip from your mimosa, leaning back casually in the pool chair. The summer rays of the warm Sunday morning shine down on your little posse. Circular black shades obscure your vision, wearing a red checkered, halter, one-piece swimsuit. White manicured toes wiggling out in front of you, gazing at your French tips. God, I need a new set.  

“Is he handsome?” Isabella asks, smiling dreamily. Resting her chin on her palm, she moved a strand of red hair away from her light hazel eyes. 

You playfully roll your eyes, having grown accustomed to your best friend’s antics after years of friendship. “He is. However, he's a little on the short side.”

“Well, height isn’t everything, Y/N.” Naomi sits to your right. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She holds a cool glass of soda, opting away from any alcoholic beverages. It’s a running joke between you three, one where you and Isabella would call her the prude of the group.

“Oh, it totally is!” Isabella huffs, leaning over to look at Naomi. “A man should be tall. Tall, handsome, strong—” 

“Rich,” you add. 

“Kind,” Naomi tacks on, giving you a look. 

“And charming,” Isabella finishes off, leaning back in her chair.

You sip your mimosa once more, head tilting up towards the sky. “Well, I just met him. I can’t exactly say he’s my dream man. In fact, I’m already growing slightly irritated with his presence.”

“What? Why?” Isabella asks, standing up. She stretches before stepping into the jacuzzi. 

“Why?” You echo back in disbelief, scoffing. “For one, he’ll be all on my ass 24/7.”

Naomi pats your arm. “It’s for your protection, Y/N. It may not be completely ideal, but try to look at it from the bright side.”

You love Naomi. However, her optimism and headstrong, realistic ways of thinking tend to get on your nerves. But you suppose it’s much needed with you three. While she’s the more measured, grounded one, Isabella is all heart and heat—led by whims, wild dreams, and red wine. A flirty, extroverted bimbo, labeled by some. And you? You’re somewhere in between. Sweet enough to charm a room, sharp enough to carve through it if you had to.

You glance at Naomi and give her a soft, sarcastic smile. “The bright side? Sure. Maybe he’ll be so bored of guarding me, he’ll ask to be reassigned.”

“I don’t think anyone could be bored of guarding you,” Isabella calls from the jacuzzi, flipping her wet hair back with theatrical flair. “You’re chaos in lipstick.”

“And diamonds,” you remind her, raising your glass. “Don’t forget the diamonds.”

Naomi shakes her head but smiles all the same. “Just be careful around him, okay? Especially if he’s been assigned by your father. You know how he operates. He doesn’t place people unless they serve more than one purpose.”

You go still for a moment, her words settling over the group. You swirl the mimosa in your glass, the citrusy scent tickling your nose as your lips press into a faint smile, one without amusement. “Yeah,” you murmur, “I know.”

There’s a pause. Just long enough for the weight of unspoken truths to stretch between the three of you.

Isabella tries to lift the mood. “Well, if he’s cute, maybe you’ll get over it. Who knows—maybe he’ll fall hopelessly in love with you, and it’ll all turn into some scandalous forbidden romance.”

You laugh, but there’s no real humor in it. “If he’s smart, he’ll keep his distance.”

Naomi’s eyes narrow slightly behind her sunglasses. “You think he’s dangerous?”

You shrug, setting your glass down on the small table beside you. “I think he’s not just a bodyguard. And I think my father doesn’t hand me off to strangers unless they’re there to report back.”

Isabella sinks deeper into the water, lips pursed thoughtfully. “Then why does it feel like this one’s different?”

Because he is. You’re not sure why yet, but something about Levi Ackerman is…off-script. Off-brand. Like he’s not here to play the part your father gave him, but hasn’t told anyone what script he’s reading from. Or maybe that’s just your own trust issues coming into play, rearing its ugly head. 

“I don’t trust him,” you finally say. “But I don’t think he trusts me, either.”

Naomi tilts her head. “Then you’re a perfect match.”

You snort, reaching for your glass again. “God forbid.” But still, your mind drifts back to the moment he looked at you—not with lust, not with obedience, but with evaluation. Like he was dissecting the game before even agreeing to play. 

“Well,” Isabella wonders, tilting her head. “Where’s this short man now?”

“Meeting with my father in his study.” 

Isabella’s face lights up. “Do you think he likes redheads?”

“Sure. Or one of those Eldian freaks.” You laugh, Isabella joining in. It takes a few seconds for you both to realize the mistake you unintentionally made. Glancing at Naomi from the corner of your eye, you tone down your laughter as you notice her awkwardly looking away. 

Damn it. 

“It’s okay,” she’s quick to placate you, head shaking. “It was a joke. It was funny.”

“Dammit, I’m sorry, Naomi. It just…I didn’t mean that. I know you’re…you know, too. That was insensitive of me.”

Isabella frowns, scratching her neck. “I’m sorry, dearie.”

Naomi waves it off with a small smile, but her fingers tighten slightly around the condensation of her soda glass. “Seriously, it’s fine,” she says, eyes still averted. “You’re not the first to say it without thinking. Probably won’t be the last.”

The silence that follows isn’t hostile, it’s just… heavy. A little too honest for a summer morning by the pool.

You sit up a little straighter, mimosa forgotten. “No, but I should’ve thought. Especially around you. You know I don’t actually—” You stop yourself, biting back the hollow defense that it was just a slip. That it didn’t mean anything. Because it did mean something. To her. And if Naomi didn’t always speak up when she should, you sure as hell needed to.

Naomi finally looks at you, meeting your gaze. Her smile is faint, but warmer this time. “It’s okay,” she says again, more softly. “I know where your heart is. I just… I guess sometimes I wish people wouldn’t use ‘Eldian’ like it’s a slur. Even if it’s just for a punchline.”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat that you weren’t expecting. Guilt always hits harder when it’s deserved. “You’re right,” you say, quieter now. “I’ve grown up hearing it tossed around like nothing. I guess some of it is still stuck without me realizing.”

Naomi leans back in her seat, exhaling slowly, as if releasing something she’s been holding onto for a while. “It gets exhausting,” she admits. “Having to constantly remind people you’re not less than. That your blood doesn’t define you.”

Isabella’s expression softens, her usual airy playfulness dimming to something more grounded. “We’ll do better,” she says, and for once there’s no dramatics—just sincerity.

You glance between your friends, two women who’ve stood beside you through everything—your father’s schemes, the unbearable galas, the endless expectations—and wonder how many other things you’ve overlooked.

Then Naomi shifts the mood with a small laugh, nudging her soda glass toward the edge of the table. “But if he does like redheads, Isabella, please don’t seduce him on the first day. Let the man settle in.”

Isabella gasps, hand over her heart. “I would never—well, maybe just a little harmless flirting.”

You roll your eyes, tension easing from your shoulders. “God, imagine him trying to flirt back. He’d probably just grunt and walk away.”

Naomi chuckles. “Sounds like your type.”

You throw your head back with a groan. “Don’t start.”

But despite the heat, despite the awkward moment that still lingers in the edges of your conscience, the day begins to feel lighter again. There’s still so much unspoken between the three of you—but maybe that’s the thing about friendship in a world like yours. You learn when to speak, when to listen, and when to simply stay.

“This is Coco. You treat her as if she were me. With respect, pride, and dignity. I expect you to lay your life on the line for her, as well.”

Levi’s arms cross, staring down at the tiny Pomeranian in your arms. You’ve even got the little thing wearing some pink sweater, a sparkly collar around her neck. “Coco,” he repeats lowly, not bothering to hold back a grimace as you bring the dog up close and personal to his face. 

When he tries to pull back, you smile. “Don’t worry. She just needs to get accustomed to your smell. Almost like I do, too.”

Levi scowls, leaning ever so slightly away from the tiny dog’s excited sniffs. “I’m not getting close enough for either of you to ‘adjust.’”

“She likes you already,” you tease, nuzzling Coco’s head affectionately. “See how she didn’t bark? That’s rare. She only likes people with good instincts.”

“Or maybe she just knows I could punt her halfway across the garden.”

Your jaw drops. “You wouldn’t dare.”

His eyes narrow. “Try me.”

Coco lets out a dainty sneeze, wiggling in your arms, her fluffy tail wagging. Levi’s scowl deepens as you coo at her and plant a kiss on the top of her head like she’s royalty.

You look up at him with a sweet, dangerous smile. “If anything happens to her under your watch, I’ll tell my father you laid a hand on me.”

He stares at you, deadpan. “So you’re threatening me now.”

You shrug. “No, I’m just stating facts.”

He glances down at Coco again, who stares back with big, sparkling eyes and a crooked little smile.

“…She blinks weird.”

“She’s got a lazy eye. Don’t be rude.”

Levi exhales through his nose, hands resting on his hips. “Great. I’m babysitting a glorified dust mop with attitude.”

“And she bites.”

He raises a brow. “So do I.”

You grin. “I’m counting on it.” 

You follow your remark with an airy chuckle, walking through the foyer of the estate and into the kitchen. Levi follows. You open a pantry door that reveals seven rows of varying dog foods, treats, toys, bowls, and collars. “This is where her food is. I’ll show you her room later.”

“Your dog has her own room?” He asks in veiled disbelief. 

“Why, of course. She’s just as important, if not more, than anyone else here.”

Levi follows the sweep of your hand with a blank stare, as if processing the absurdity before him. “Right,” he mutters. “Priorities.”

You bend down to grab a bag of organic grain-free kibble, the kind that smells vaguely like roasted chicken and bankruptcy. “She also has very specific dietary restrictions. No wheat, no soy, no artificial preservatives. And she eats twice a day—sharp times, Levi. Eight a.m. and six p.m. Not a minute later.”

He watches you pour a sample into a tiny, crystal-trimmed bowl that probably costs more than a person’s monthly salary. “You know, there are political prisoners in internment camps who eat less gourmet than this.”

You glance at him, head tilting. “And that’s Coco’s fault, how?”

He doesn’t respond. He just blinks slowly, like he’s trying to disassociate from the moment.

You straighten up and gesture for him to follow again. “Come. I’ll show you her closet.”

“Her closet.”

You nod, already halfway out of the kitchen. “Yes. You need to familiarize yourself with her outfits. She doesn’t repeat looks unless it’s for rainy days, and even then, only in rotation. Oh, and she has allergies, so avoid the lavender detergent on her bedsheets.”

Levi stands there for a beat longer, as if silently cursing whatever life decision led him to this point. “Do I get hazard pay for this?” he finally mutters, trailing after you and the prancing fluff ball upstairs like a man walking toward his doom.

“I didn’t know my father hired such a comedian.” You smile, looking back over your shoulder at him. “Have you tried stand-up?” Your hand curls around the doorknob, twisting it open. 

Levi doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even blink. He just stares at you with that same unimpressed expression, as if your joke barely registered on his humor scale. “Only if the stage’s on fire,” he mutters. “And I’m dragging someone off it.”

You laugh anyway, amused by the dry delivery, the way his voice stays low and flat. “So that’s a no?”

The door swings open, revealing Coco’s room. Or rather—Coco’s suite. The small space is decked out in pastel pinks, custom pet furniture, plush carpeting, and a miniature chandelier hanging delicately from the ceiling. One wall displays an array of dog couture, another holds framed photos of Coco at various events, some of which Levi suspects had a guest list and press coverage.

You step aside proudly, gesturing. “Welcome to the queen’s quarters.”

Levi exhales slowly through his nose, staring into the room like he’s just found out this dog lives better than most humans. “She’s got better security than the embassy,” he comments.

“And now she has you,” you tease, nudging his arm lightly as you move past him again. “Aren’t we lucky?”

He looks down at the tiny pink bed with Coco’s name embroidered in gold thread, then back at you. “You mean me, right?”

You grin over your shoulder. “No, I meant her.”

Levi watches you trot around the room, grabbing a pair of nail clippers and a small comb. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Watching you fuss over your dog’s appearance as if she were your own child. Maybe in a way to you, she is. Levi’s always felt weird about people treating animals—especially tiny dogs like this one—with such lavishness. And some people can barely afford food on the table. 

“Your father never mentioned anything about this dog in my contract,” he decides to speak up, head tilting slightly. 

You glance up from where you’ve crouched beside Coco’s plush vanity stool, pausing mid-brush. “Is that so?” you hum, like it’s mildly interesting but not surprising. “Well, consider her an extension of me. Where I go, she goes. When I’m out, she stays with someone I trust. That someone is you.”

Levi’s arms remain crossed, his gaze fixed on you with a slow-burning skepticism. “I’m not a dog sitter.”

You stand and walk toward him, the nail clippers swinging loosely from your fingers. “No,” you agree, stepping close—close enough for Coco to bark once from her seat like she’s watching a drama unfold. “You’re my bodyguard. Which means you protect what matters to me. And Coco matters.”

Levi exhales, more out of habit than exasperation. “I thought I was protecting you from political threats. Not from… chipped nails and improperly brushed fur.”

You shrug, eyes glittering with amusement. “Threats come in many forms, Mr. Ackerman. A single snag in Coco’s coat could be a national tragedy. Now hold her.”

He gives you a look like you’ve lost your mind. “You’re serious.”

You place Coco delicately into his arms, ignoring how rigid he becomes. “Completely.”

As you return to her vanity to grab her tiny sunglasses, Levi stares down at the fluffy dog in his arms, now yawning in a way he’s sure is mocking him. His nose twitches, already feeling his allergies begin to act up. Walking back over, you slide the sunglasses onto her face. “So, why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

Levi shifts uncomfortably with the delicate weight in his arms. He cleared his throat with a small grunt. “What do you know?”

“What should I know?” You easily reply back, innocently raising your eyebrow and holding back a small smile behind your hand. 

Your attitude really ticks him off. It’s like you never fully answer what he asks you, like you’re trained to veil yourself behind an alluring persona. “I’ve been assigned to protect you, that’s all you need to know.”

“Oh? Secretive man, aren’t you?” 

“Reserved,” he corrects. 

You hum in response, eyes trailing leisurely down his stiff posture, the way his hands hover just slightly off Coco’s fluffy pink sweater like he’s afraid of contaminating her, or himself. He’s already visibly uncomfortable, the dog nestled against his broad chest with all the ceremony of a royal child, and yet you can tell he’d rather be anywhere else. It makes you smile.

“Well, reserved,” you say, tone breezy as ever as you gently reach out to adjust Coco’s sparkly sunglasses. “That doesn’t help me sleep any easier at night. You’ll be shadowing me, probably listening to every private call and watching every awkward wardrobe change. I’d think the least you could offer me is your favorite color. Or—I don’t know—what you do when you’re not threatening men in suits with your eyes.”

Levi’s jaw tightens, eyes narrowing just slightly. “I don’t need you to sleep easier. I need you to stay alive.”

You blink once, lips parted slightly at the bluntness of it. His voice is low, calm, but edged with something colder than you expected. A kind of calculated disinterest. You wonder if that’s how he’s been trained—or if that’s just how he is. The silence between you stretches long enough for Coco to give a huff, burying her snout into his arm like even she’s growing bored. You cross your arms.

“You know,” you murmur after a moment, voice a touch softer, “for a guy who’s supposed to be keeping me alive, you sure seem like you can’t stand being around me.”

“I don’t need to like you to do my job,” he says coolly, handing Coco back to you with the delicacy of someone handling an explosive.

You cradle the dog with ease, pressing a kiss to her head as she lets out a yip of approval. “Mm. That’s a shame. I was hoping we’d at least be friends.”

Levi gives you a once-over. Not suggestive. Not admiring. Just assessing. “Friends don’t let friends carry designer rats in rhinestones.”

You gasp dramatically, hugging Coco closer to your chest. “How dare you? She’s royalty.”

“She’s shedding on my shirt.”

“Your shirt should feel honored.”

Levi turns to leave the room, muttering under his breath as he goes, “This is going to be a long assignment.”

You scoff, trailing after him with Coco in your arms. “I’m counting on it, short king.”

The look he throws over his shoulder could freeze the sun.

It’s later that night that you find yourself dressed up. Hair styled neatly into pin curls, wearing your signature red lip, a neutral, subtle gray shadow coating your lids. Your figure is adorned in a satin, champagne, form-fitting gown that reaches just past your knees, with an off-the-shoulder neckline. You’re wearing a diamond choker with a shawl draped loosely across your arms. In your hand, you hold a small, jeweled clutch. And finally, you’ve topped the outfit off with red, pointed-toed, stiletto heels. 

Your father is dressed in his usual, steam-pressed suit, hair neatly swooped back. His hand finds your lower back as he leads you into the high-end casino he’s been invited to for the night. Usually, casinos aren’t your thing. Too rowdy and gross for your liking, but you have nothing else on your agenda for the night. Flashes blind your vision, people shouting out your name or your father’s. A flank of his men crowd you both as you enter, Levi closely packed to your right. 

It’s the kind of casino only the important can get into, hence the tight security and lavish building. 

Crystal chandeliers hang from the gilded ceiling like falling stars, refracting light off rows of polished marble floors and deep velvet carpets. The air smells faintly of expensive cigars and stronger egos, underscored by the delicate sound of piano keys humming in the background. Every man in this room is either rich or pretending to be. Every woman sparkles under the weight of diamonds too big to be discreet. You fit right in—and you know it.

Your father nods to familiar faces, shaking hands and murmuring greetings with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His grip on your lower back tightens as the two of you walk deeper into the opulence, a silent reminder: be charming, be seen, but don’t speak unless you have to. Levi trails behind. He blends in well in his tailored black suit, but there’s something about him that doesn’t quite match the rest of this place—maybe it’s his perpetual scowl, or the way his eyes never stop scanning the room. He’s not here for the champagne or the poker. He’s here to calculate threats. To make sure no one gets too close to you.

“Smile,” your father murmurs as you pass a pair of high-ranking politicians. “Senator Moreau’s daughter is here tonight. Keep your head high.”

You do as you’re told, turning just enough to offer a warm, practiced smile to the right people. Levi’s eyes meet yours briefly in the reflection of a mirror near the bar. 

After a while, your father excuses himself to a private table with the hosts, flanked by security. He gives Levi a nod, a silent command to watch closely over you. You’re left standing alone near the bar with Levi hovering by your side.

“Do I look like I’m enjoying myself?” you ask without looking at him, nursing a glass of something that tastes like flowers and money.

“You look like you’re about to rob this place blind,” he replies dryly, watching the room.

You laugh softly. “Flattering. But I think you just mean I look expensive.”

“No,” he says. “I mean, you look dangerous.”

Your smile lingers a moment longer before you take another sip, letting the tension between you settle somewhere behind your ribs. “You know,” you say slowly, turning to face him more directly, “you could at least pretend you’re having a good time.”

“I’m not paid to pretend,” he says, eyes still on the crowd.

“Well, that’s unfortunate.” You glance toward the roulette tables where a crowd has gathered, already making your way toward it with a small tilt of your head. “Because this is my favorite part.”

He follows without protest, his expression unreadable. And as the casino lights dance off your diamond choker and the slit of your dress glides with every step, you feel the burn of his gaze again, unmoving, attentive, and just maybe a little curious.

“Hello, boys,” you greet the small group of four men who meticulously play whatever game they’re glued to. Hand drifting to the shoulder of one in particular. “My sweet James, I haven’t seen you in ages.” With a smile, you lean in to plant a tiny kiss on his cheek. 

James Starton—son of a shipping magnate, heir to a fortune you could recite the layers of in your sleep—grins widely when he sees you. His golden Rolex glints under the lights as he chuckles, reaching up to touch the spot on his cheek where your lips just left a trace. “Y/N. As stunning as ever,” he says, leaning back in his seat with practiced ease. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us common folk.”

The other three men offer you similar greetings, none as familiar as James's, but polite enough. They each take a moment to rake their eyes over your figure, the way the satin clings to you like a second skin. You can feel Levi’s presence close behind, a solid shadow that seems to grow heavier the longer you linger.

“I could never forget you, James,” you purr, fingers lightly trailing across the back of his chair as you circle to the empty one beside him. “But you know how it is. Daddy keeps me busy, and this city doesn’t exactly run itself.”

James laughs. “Well, I hope you’re here to play. We could use a little more luck at the table.” He gestures to the chips in front of him, plenty of them, because, of course, he’s doing well tonight. But then again, James always likes to look like he’s winning, whether he is or not.

You cross your legs as you sit, angling yourself just enough to maintain control of the room—and the conversation. “Maybe I’ll play a few hands,” you muse, glancing at the dealer. “If only for the company.”

Levi doesn’t move, but you know he’s dutifully watching. You can feel the tension radiating off of him like heat. The way his gaze probably narrows at how close James leans, or how you’re toying with the man’s cufflink like it’s a nervous tic.

James leans in just slightly, voice low. “And who’s that, then?” He nods in Levi’s direction without bothering to hide the amusement in his tone. “New arm candy? Your type’s changed.”

You smile sweetly, flicking your eyes up at Levi before returning your gaze to James. “Bodyguard,” you say simply. “And you’d do well to remember that.”

The warning is soft, almost playful—but not quite. It’s enough to make James raise his hands in surrender, even as he chuckles. “Duly noted.”

Levi remains resolute, unreadable, and silent. But when you catch his eye again, just for a moment, you could swear there’s a flicker of something there.

Levi can’t even count the number of times he’s checked his wristwatch throughout the night, holding back groans of annoyance as he’s forced to spend the entirety of his time following after you like a lost puppy. And it’s no better for him since you seem to be just a peachy, social butterfly. There hasn’t been a single minute you weren’t talking to someone, either approaching or being approached. Of course, the blatant nasty stares thrown his way piss him off even more. He ignores them to the best of his ability, but even he has his limits. Your father has been nowhere to be seen for the past few hours, and he’s debating whether or not he should just call it a night himself. He knows for sure, however, that you’re on your fourth glass of champagne and your cheeks look more flushed, definitely not the pretty pink-red blush you applied to the apples of your cheeks before leaving the estate. 

He’s unsure if this job of his entails making sure you’re not getting shit-faced. As long as you’re in one piece, everything should be good, right? 

At least, that’s what he tries to tell himself. Just keep her breathing, Levi. That’s all you’re here for. But then you laugh—loud and carefree—throwing your head back, fingers lightly brushing the arm of a tall, square-jawed politician’s son. The guy’s been hanging around your table for the past half hour, saying too many words and standing too damn close. Levi watches your champagne flute teeter in your hand as you wave it around mid-conversation, the golden liquid dangerously close to splashing over the rim.

That’s four glasses, he reminds himself. Almost five. He knows because he counted. Keeps count of everything when he’s bored out of his mind. Which is every second you’re not sitting down quietly or keeping to yourself, which, apparently, is never.

Still, he does nothing. Not yet. He’s not exactly your babysitter. If anything, it’s his job to be invisible—out of the way, just close enough to act if things go south. And this? This is just champagne and annoying men with soft hands and louder mouths. It isn’t a threat.

Until you start to sway just slightly when you get up from the table.

Levi is at your side before you can even blink. “I think it’s time to sit down,” he says, his voice low and steady as he grips your elbow, not tightly, but firm enough to halt you.

You blink up at him, lashes fluttering. “Am I wobbling?” you ask sweetly, drawing out the word like it’s part of some performance. “You know, I think the floor here is uneven.”

“Yeah,” Levi mutters. “That must be it.”

The man you were speaking with raises a brow at Levi’s interruption, but one look from the bodyguard has him shifting back in his seat. Not wanting to pick a fight. Smart.

“You’re really no fun at all, Levi,” you pout, but you don’t resist when he guides you toward a quieter corner of the casino.

“Not here to be fun,” he grumbles, pulling out a chair for you anyway. “Here to make sure you don’t end up passed out in someone’s Bentley.”

You sit with a dramatic sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress. “You’re too uptight. Have a drink. Loosen up.”

He doesn’t respond. Just crosses his arms and stands beside you like a stone wall.

But he does notice the way your smile fades a little after a few quiet moments. How your gaze trails toward the floor instead of the crowd now. And how your fingers slowly start to fidget with the edge of your clutch. Maybe you are a little drunk. Or maybe you’re just tired.

Either way, Levi doesn’t question it. Not his job. 

“Hello, beautiful.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters lowly under his breath, looking at the newcomer.  

The man standing before you is exactly the type Levi’s has grown to despise—tall, smug, with a perfectly bleached smile and a designer suit tailored to say I’ve never worked a real day in my life. He reeks of money, cologne, and confidence he clearly didn’t earn. Levi doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up, unsure if it’s with affection. You plaster on your most charming smile, the same one you’ve been wearing all night like a mask. “Hello, darling,” you purr, tilting your head just slightly. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“And miss a chance to run into you again?” the man replies, stepping closer as if Levi doesn’t exist. “Not a chance.”

Levi shifts subtly, just enough to stand half a step closer to you. Not touching, not speaking, but clearly there.

The man finally acknowledges him with a passing glance, tone dropping a notch. “Your new shadow?”

“He prefers bodyguard,” you say dryly, sipping the last of your champagne. “But yes.”

“Seems a little tense,” the man muses, eyes raking over Levi without a hint of concern. “Relax, man. You’re not needed here.”

Levi stares back, unblinking. “Try something stupid. You’ll see how needed I am.”

The smile on the man’s face falters just enough to satisfy him.

You exhale through your nose, amused despite yourself. “Alright, boys, no pissing contest tonight. I already have a headache.”

“Then maybe I can walk you out, give you some air?” the man offers, extending his hand.

Levi tenses, but he doesn’t move. Not until you decide.

You pause—a moment too long—before setting your empty glass down. “Tempting,” you hum, “but I’ve already got company tonight.” Your hand brushes Levi’s arm ever so lightly. He doesn’t flinch, but you feel the way his muscles tense beneath your touch.

“Aww, well that’s not fun.”

“I’m always fun with you, Michael.” 

Michael’s grin returns, smug and knowing. He steps back just enough to give you one final once-over, eyes lingering a little too long on the curve of your hips, the bare skin of your shoulders, the long stretch of leg revealed by the slit of your gown. “That you are,” he says smoothly. “I’ll hold you to that. Another time.”

You don’t answer—just offer a wink and a flick of your fingers as a farewell, already turning your back to him. Levi doesn’t move until Michael is a good five strides away, swallowed up by the casino crowd and whatever other equally self-obsessed suits are waiting for him.

Only then does he finally exhale, sharp and quiet. “Friends like that, huh?” he mutters.

You shrug, barely glancing at him. “He’s harmless. Annoying, but harmless.”

Levi scoffs, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You’ve got a strange definition of harmless.”

You glance sideways at him, watching the stiff line of his jaw, the way his eyes are still scanning the room. Still on edge. “You really don’t like him.”

“I don’t like most of them,” he replies flatly.

“Most of whom?”

“The men who think they know you. Who think they’re entitled to touch you, look at you like you’re already theirs. Makes me sick.”

You blink at that—caught off guard not by the words themselves, but by the way he says them. Not possessively, not jealously. Just matter-of-fact, like it’s a truth he carries around all the time and only now decided to share. For a moment, you say nothing. Just let the silence settle again. And then, softer, “Is that part of your job too?”

Levi turns to you, expression unreadable. “No,” he says. “That part’s just me.”

And somehow, that answer makes your chest tighten in a way you weren’t prepared for.

“Don’t play father,” you sigh softly and stand up. 

Levi’s hands automatically move out, hovering above, actually holding your arms. “Forgive me for hoping you’d have a little more respect for yourself.”

You chuckle, eyebrow raised. “Self-respect?” You echo, fingers dancing up along his broad shoulders. “My, if I didn’t have any of that, I would’ve had my time with you the minute I met you.”

“I still barely know you.”

“Does that mean you wouldn’t be opposed?” Your arms wrap fully around his neck, he feels the soft tingle of your breath fan across his cheek as you lean in. The tip of your nose skims his jawline. 

His face remains stony, arms stiff by his sides. After a few seconds, he gently untangles your arms from his neck, stepping back enough for some space between you two. “You’re drunk, we’ll go find your father, then head back.”

The tip of your lip downturns into a frown. However, before you can respond, yet another manly voice interrupts. 

“Her father is already waiting for her outside.”

You both look to your right. Standing there, an average-height man, his blonde hair parted to the side, it reaches just before the end of his ears. Light blue eyes darting between Levi and you, narrowing just slightly in suspicion. He steps forward wordlessly, taking your hand in his and subtly stepping between you two. Levi’s own suspicion rises, confused by the way this man nonchalantly laces his fingers in yours. You twitch briefly. 

“You must be the new guy,” he says, chin tilting up like he’s silently one-upping him. 

Levi already doesn’t like him. 

“Oh, Daniel. I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Your father sent me abroad, remember? Today’s my first day back.”

“Oh, right,” you hum, heavy-lidded eyes looking back at Levi. “Well, here’s the newest addition.”

“I can see that,” Daniel focuses on the other man across from him, lip briefly moving up in a self-satisfied smirk. He only offers Levi a nod. “Daniel Foster. Head of security for the Suzukis.”

Head of security. Levi doesn’t need to ask the obvious, the guy already seems to be trying to display some shitty air of dominance over him already. Levi crosses his arms. “Levi.”

Daniel’s smile tightens, but he keeps his tone casual, almost too casual for the tension in the room. “Levi, huh? Heard a bit about you already. Can’t say I’m thrilled to have competition, but it is what it is. Just wish it wasn’t someone of your background.”

Levi doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes locked on Daniel’s with a cool, assessing gaze. There’s something about Daniel, the way he moves, the ease in his voice, that reeks of control, authority, and a hint of entitlement. Not the type to back down easily. Not the type he can stand to be in a room with. 

You tug lightly on Daniel’s hand, your voice soft but firm. “Let’s not start a turf war tonight, boys.”

Daniel glances at you with a smirk. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to cause trouble. Just making sure you get home safe.”

Levi’s jaw tightens. “Same here.”

A quiet moment passes, the three of you standing there under the dim casino lights, an unspoken challenge hanging between Levi and Daniel like a thin wire ready to snap. You clear your throat, stepping between them with a graceful but commanding presence. “Enough of that. Tonight’s over. Let’s get out of here.”

Daniel gives Levi a final look, nods once, and then turns toward the exit, pulling you gently along. Levi falls back, watching the two of you go, his mind already working through the layers beneath this simple encounter.

The ride back home is a silent one. Sitting in the blacked-out limousine are you, Makoto, Daniel, and Levi. Unfortunately for the other two men, they’re made to sit next to one another, directly across from you and your father. You’re leaning against the door, eyes closed and softly snoozing. Makoto is on your left, holding a small glass of Brandy, looking out the tinted windows. 

“So,” Makoto speaks up, swallowing his dark liquor and looking at the two across from him. “Daniel, I don’t think you’ve formally met Levi here.”

“Not that I mind,” Daniel shrugs, grinning. 

Levi’s jaw clenches. 

“Well, he’s Y/N’s personal guard. There may be times I’ll have you two work together. So I want no issues between you two.”

Levi doesn’t break eye contact with Makoto, even as he feels the weight of Daniel’s smirk settle beside him like a bad itch.

“Understood,” Levi replies flatly, voice cool and unreadable. His arms are crossed, legs slightly apart, posture steady and grounded.

Daniel chuckles under his breath and leans back, one arm resting casually along the leather seat. “Don’t worry, sir. I play nice when I have to. Long as he knows his place, I don’t see why there’d be any trouble.”

Levi turns his head slowly toward Daniel, the flicker of a glare igniting in his steely gaze. “I don’t take up much space,” he says, voice quiet and edged, “but I don’t move for people like you.”

Makoto raises an eyebrow, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Good,” he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else. “It’s about time someone made things interesting around here.”

The silence afterward is tense but calm. Heavy. You’re still asleep, blissfully unaware, your head resting against the cool glass as the city lights blur by. And Makoto, ever the puppet master, just sits back and enjoys the quiet unraveling.

When you all get back, Makoto easily exits the car. Barely moving a wave of his hand towards your slumped figure, silently communicating the order to have someone get you out of the car. Levi takes a step forward, but Daniel beats him. Opening your side of the car and carefully maneuvering you into his arms, bridal style. 

Levi halts mid-step, jaw ticking as Daniel effortlessly lifts you into his arms like he’s done it a hundred times before. You stir faintly against Daniel’s chest, murmuring something incoherent as your head nuzzles into his shoulder, completely unaware of the tension thickening behind you. “Got her,” Daniel says, glancing over his shoulder at Levi with an irritating air of familiarity. “She’s used to me doing this.”

Levi doesn’t respond immediately—he simply watches. The way Daniel’s grip is secure but deliberately gentle, the way his stride toward the estate is confident, unbothered, like he owns the ground he walks on. Like he owns you.

Levi follows at a steady pace, fists tucked into his coat pockets.

Used to it, huh?

Something about that doesn’t sit right. Maybe it’s the implication that you need rescuing this often, or maybe it’s just the casual claim Daniel seems to be making over you. Makoto is already gone, vanished behind the estate doors, leaving Levi and Daniel alone with the weight of unspoken rivalry between them. The massive entrance opens at their approach, and Daniel doesn’t wait. He strides up the grand staircase, taking you toward your wing without a second glance.

Levi stops at the base of the stairs, eyes tracking the retreating pair. 

A strange feeling resides in his gut, jaw clenching tightly. He doesn’t exactly understand why he feels so utterly put off by this guy and the way he acts towards you. It’s like he’s trying to engage in a competition of sorts, one Levi did not sign up for. Must be the way people around here work. It would probably be best not to think too much of it. After all, he’s been sought out specifically for your help. Not some pompous, Ken-looking asshole like Daniel. 

Still, as Levi watched Daniel disappear down the hallway with you in his arms, that uneasy feeling in his gut refuses to settle. It coils like a slow burn in his stomach, fed by the smug glint in Daniel’s eyes and the way you unconsciously leaned into his touch, like your body knew him—trusted him.

Levi scoffs under his breath.

He doesn’t get people like Daniel. The polished, playboy types who waltz through life with effortless charm and empty grins, hiding ambition behind every compliment and promise. He’s seen too many of them in the military and on the field—too many snakes in custom-tailored suits pretending to protect what they only want to possess. The thought irritates him more than it should. Because this isn’t his game. He’s not here to win hearts or charm anyone. He’s here to protect. To observe. To keep you alive.

And yet.

Why the hell does it matter who carries you to bed?

Levi rolls his shoulders back and exhales slowly through his nose, trying to shake the tension that’s settled deep in his bones. It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t. It doesn’t. He heaves a sigh, scrubbing a hand down his face. Reading his watch, it says 2:00 am. It doesn’t help that he’s been trying to fix his disordered sleeping. 

So, with a turn of his heel, he exits the estate, heading back to the less-than-glamorous place he calls his home. 

(open) taglist: @simplymygojo @miss-dior @kouyoumarryme @chericheriladeee

@deniixlovezelda @whitenightdreams @yoriichitsugikunii @wittyjasontodd @toj1swh0re

@antiv3nus @gojowifefrfr @alt--er--love @beabamboo @jeonwiixard

@bottomlesschaps @luna-v-roiya @lovingstudenthumancookie @toji-dabi-wife @naomikozura

@kimvmarvel @elmaa127 @frrxnyw @aldebrana @koji-akeme

@bouquetoflove @reivelmin @teal-anchor @wakasaishot @silveritydreams

@starrynights23x @cherlouu @littlebabyrae @alebrasil0101 @universal-s1ut

@fairydazeee @themoonisbeautifuls-blog @siriusblackswan

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I HATE THE NEW HERO

PT 1 - What teacher assigns a group project for a poster?!

Pt 1 (You're here) - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10

Classes were always boring for you, don't get you wrong - you love the subjects, you just hate how it's being taught.

To sum it up, here is your lessons for today, Wednesday.

Literature, Methods Math, Biology, Ancient History, Engineering and finally Chemistry.

It's a lot and frankly you're regretting choosing half of those subjects. Even more so because of a certain billionaire playboy's ward. Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.

You're pretty sure he's a massive fanboy of Aranea, the new spider-themed hero of Gotham who you detest with your very being.

The costume is ugly, they're too optimistic - it's Gotham, who on Earth is happy in Gotham? Most of all however, they're a two-faced bitch. You should know, after all you are them.

It's not that you hate yourself and your nightlife, just that you need to look unconnected to them at all costs. There can't be any correlation between you and your persona. You use a voice modulator while on patrol and missions, you wear a wig while in your costume and any defining features are covered by either the costume or makeup.

So, whenever Aranea is brought up you take the chance to make fun of it. The comments aren't anything horrible, mean sure.

"Ew, they're more of a roach than a spider.."

"They're actually ugly enough to be the next Joker"

"I hope they humiliate themself and everyone sees how gross they really are."

But not horrible.

Despite this Timothy seems to have thought you were the devil himself in the form of a teenager. Glares were thrown at you, false reports were made to the principal's office, public shaming on Chitter and more.

You won't lie and say it gets to you sometimes but at the same time he's being a manchild. You can't expect everyone to like who you like.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by a paper being slammed onto the desk. Your head snaps up and you glare at the person.

Timothy may as well be the devil with the way he's staring at you now, a sneer paints his pale features. His nose held high enough that you swore he was about to snort on you.

You grit your teeth and look down at the paper he slammed on your desk. You're actually going to scream and cry right now.

Scratch that, you're actually going to jump out of the window and hope to perish.

You hate Chemistry. You hate this school. You hate Gotham. You hate Timothy Jackson Drake.

You pray he'll think you're incompetent and not bother with actually working together for this group project.

A group project on Titration! Who even does a group project outside of school for that?

You look around, hoping there will be others in the group but because your luck is so thin it might snap everyone else already were in groups of 3s. Meaning Timothy and you would just be a duo.

Instead of doing what you wished you instead sighed and grabbed your pencil, probing at Timothy's hand until it stopped holding the paper against the desk.

"A poster on bases and acids in titration? Why does this need to be a two-person job?!" You huff out. Timothy's features turn more hate filled, kinda petty to hate someone for different tastes Timothy...

"Because lazy people like you won't do the work otherwise!"

"I'm not lazy! Fine, fuck you! I'll do it myself!"

"No way! I need the marks - plus you'll do it wrong!"

you take a deep breath, trying desperately to not snap your pencil in half.

"... Fine. We'll do it at my place then once school lets out. No way am I going to your place where I'm sure you'll set your family on me." You respond calmly, still glaring up at him.

After a moment Timothy nods.

Your shoulders slump in relief.

"I'll meet you at the front gate then."

"Fine. But if you're late I'm doing the project on my own." With that Timothy walks away. You feel a migraine coming on - seriously, what is wrong with him? There wasn't even a proper time set!

Some people think that Damian kid is the rudest - those people clearly haven't been on the bad, petty side of Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.

[just-jordie-things]

you want to kiss me so bad! - fushiguro megumi

word count: 3k warnings: none :) summary: "ooh you just want to kiss me" "and what about it?" more info: aged up characters! everyone works as sorcerers for jujutsu tech, friends to lovers, yuji nobara and reader are besties with a gossip groupchat a/n: thank u stef for this idea, it was so much fun to write !!! (obvi i got carried away... classic me) but this one is ofc dedicated to u @delzinrowe here's the original brainrot ___

Normally, (y/n) and Megumi made a strong pair on assignments.  Having worked and trained together since high school and having known each other a bit longer than that, they shared a deep understanding on how the other fights, and normally this gave them a hefty advantage.  Having two capable sorcerers that could read each other like the backs of their hands was a threat to any curse.  Normally.

Or in other words, as long as one of them didn’t completely abandon their plan and start improvising halfway through a fight, they were the perfect pair.

If he gave her some benefit of the doubt, Megumi could admit that (y/n) disregarding her weapon and opting to use the sheer power behind her cursed technique actually meant exorcizing the curse quicker than planned.  

However, now she’s staggering on her feet, her blade retrieved and dangling loosely in her weak grip as she slowly makes her way over to him, grimacing at the heap of dead curse she had to sidle past.  There’s a lazy but proud grin that takes over her features as she assesses the damage, realizing her workload for filing this one would be far less than previously expected, seeing how quickly she’d handled it.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Megumi scolds her as soon as she’s in close enough proximity to hear him.  

He’s pissed.  His arms are crossed, his face is twisted into a scowl, and when he pauses after his question (y/n) thinks he might actually be looking for an answer.

“Pretty quickly, I’d say” She scoffs back at him, not taking his irritation seriously for a second.

She’d say Megumi was a friend of hers, given how long they’d known each other, but she couldn’t say he ever eased up around her.  He seemed to always be wound so tight that he didn’t even relax when they weren’t exorcizing curses.  Over time she’d grown used to his reserved demeanor, and she didn’t mind it, so long as they were still the perfect duo on assignments, she could put up with anything.

Except his attitude.  It rarely made an appearance when she was around- not nearly as much when he was paired up with Yuji- but on the off chance that Megumi got cranky, as she called it, it never rubbed her the right way, and it never went over well.

And currently, Megumi’s attitude and irritation knew no bounds.

“That was reckless and risky and you know it,” He chastised, only bristling further when (y/n) rolled her eyes back at him.  “You need to take this more seriously, you can’t just go dropping your weapon in the middle of-” 

“It was fine, wasn’t it?” She huffed out, already bored of the conversation.  “It’s done, we’re not scuffed up all that bad, and honestly, you should be thanking me” 

“Thanking you?” Megumi seethes the words back at her, and the way the corner of his snarl twitches does not go unnoticed by her.

“Mhm, you’re welcome,” She muses back at him, knowing that her little smirk was going to absolutely set him over the edge.  “I’ve pretty much scored us a half day-” 

“You pretty much just ignored me completely and could’ve gotten us both hurt…” He trails off, his features softening from their contorted angry expression for just a moment as something else washes over him.  Something that makes his face pale and his lips curl into such a deep set frown (y/n) thinks it could form permanent wrinkles if he held it any longer.  “... or worse” He finishes, a bit quieter than before.

“But we didn’t,” (y/n) shrugs back at him, and his annoyance creeps right back into it’s home under his skin.  

Why couldn’t she take anything seriously, ever? 

“We’re fine, it’s done, and we’re heading home.  Why are you holding onto this?” 

He gapes back at her, pausing long enough to give her a chance to take back her idiotic statement and actually take some responsibility for her actions, but she doesn’t.  All she does is look back at him with something akin to disinterest in her eyes.  It makes his nostrils flare.

“You’re ridiculous,” He huffs, eyes screwing shut with his annoyance.  “Seriously, (y/n), one day your lack of critical thinking skills is going to put me in an early grave” 

“Early? But you’re such an old man already,” She teases back, knowing full well she was poking a sleeping bear.  “C’mon, I’ll treat you to lunch on the way back, better?” 

“You can’t be serious for even a second can you?”

“Why would I?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, self preservation?” He snaps back at her, stepping closer so she could get a proper look at the glare in his eyes.

“My job is self preservation,” (y/n) rolls her eyes again with the dismissive comment.  “Maybe if you loosened up once in a while you wouldn’t be so cranky all the time” 

“So I’m cranky for wanting us to make it out of an assignment with our heads?” 

“Looks to me like we still get ‘em” She shrugs.

“That’s it.  I’m not taking another assignment with you until you understand why acting on reckless abandon is stupid and going to get you killed one day,” He spits back at her, and for a second, her brows raise, and she actually looks shocked by his words.  “Does that make me the bad guy, (y/n)?” Megumi hoped he was finally getting through to her, he was so close to her now that when his eyes bore into hers she could hardly see anything but angry blue oceans crashing behind them.

With another roll of her eyes and a short giggle right in her face she scrunches up her nose and gives him the greatest, wittiest line she could come up with to diffuse the rising tension.

“Ooh, ‘gumi you just want to kiss me” 

What she doesn’t expect is that with all of his anger and frustration brewing, Megumi had been pushed past a brink she’d never seen him reach before.  

“And what about it?” He snaps, brows furrowed with his anger, mouth still pulled into a frown.  (y/n’s) eyes widen at the response

So in a moment of pure vexation and poor decision making skills, Megumi’s shifting gears and muttering, “Fuck it” 

Next thing she knows his hands have seized her cheeks and they’re soft and warm but so firm as he yanks her forward while dipping his head to her height.  Is he going to kiss me? Is the first stupid thought that runs through her muddled mind before his lips are slamming against hers.

Her eyes are as wide as saucers before she truly registers how soft and warm and pleasant his lips feel against hers, and she finds herself giving into the whirlwind moment sooner than expected.  Her lashes flutter before falling shut, and it seems that she’s just as soon floating ten feet in the air, lifted by an invisible force.  One foot pops into the air, the other extending on to the tips of her toes to better reach him, sending her hands against his chest.

He rendered her breathless in the matter of instant, which she blamed on both the surprise and the passion behind his kiss.  She can vaguely make out the feeling of his hands moving from her jaw into her hair, but just as his fingertips graze the nape of her neck and she hums in delight.

That little noise was her downfall, because as soon as the sweet sound hits Megumi’s ears, he’s pulled out of his reverie and instantly pulls away from the kiss.

(y/n) has to gasp for air once they’re parted, but it takes her a minute to gather her senses and open her eyes.

Megumi’s frozen, his hands still cupped around the back of her head, his lips parted but no words or air was coming out.  All he can do is stare at her with the shock of what he’d done sinking in.

No words are exchanged.

She stares at him expectantly, waiting for something, anything, but it doesn’t come.  Megumi releases her before putting as large of a step of distance between.  If he won’t say anything, she knows she has to… but all she can do is gape as he takes another step away and quickly pulls out his phone to check on their ride back to Jujutsu Tech.

It stays silent as they wait for their car.

Even their exchange with their assigned manager is uncomfortable.

With Megumi still choosing the silent route, she’s left no other choice.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and rapidly begins to type.

[y/n]: S.O.S EMERGENCY !!!!!!

[yuwuji]: OMG DID U DIE ON UR MISSION D:

[y/n]: NO WORSE [y/n]: MEGUMI KISSED ME

[nocapybara]: W H A T

[yuwuji]: oh shit :D

[nocapybara]: what happened [nocapybara]: did you kiss back

[yuwuji]: was it good???

The incoming texts from her go-to groupchat for panic spamming shot up so fast she’s barely finished reading one before another appears on her screen.  At least it was serving the purpose of keeping her distracted in the tense car ride.

[y/n]: he got mad at me 

[yuwuji]: aww again??? :(

[y/n]: and then i said ‘you wanna kiss me so bad’ and he was all ‘so what?’ abt it and then he just…. fuckin kissed me

[nocapybara]: oh shit he actually made a move????

[yuwuji]: damn that’s actually such a good line 

[nocapybara]: no it’s not, megumi’s just dumb  [nocapybara]: and u didn’t answer my question (y/n/n)!!

[yuwuji]: or mine! >:3

[y/n]: i might’ve kissed back a little… [y/n]: and it might’ve been…. the best kiss of my whole life

[nocapybara]: how much is a little??

[yuwuji]: aww megumi is a good kisser <3 good 4 him

[y/n]: uhh my foot might’ve popped up like in the movies 

[nocapybara]: oh shiiiiiit so it was a KISS kiss

[y/n]: yeah. it was a kiss kiss.

[yuwuji]: and u kissed back?? are u guys boyfriend girlfriend now??

[y/n]: he didn’t say anything after

[nocapybara]: WUT???

[yuwuji]: HEH???

[y/n]: I KNOW THATS WHY IM FREAKING OUT U GUYS ITS SO AWKWARD WTF DO I DO HE DIDNT SAY ANYTHING AND NOW IM STUCK IN THIS CAR WITH HIM HELP MEEEE

[nocapybara]: HES A COWARD !!!

[yuwuji]: did you say anything??

[y/n]: no!! what am i supposed to say??? he kissed me his first!! this is HIS FAULT!!!

[nocapybara]: damn right!!

[yuwuji]: no!! :( [yuwuji]: maybe he’s just shy and doesn’t know what to say

[nocapybara]: sthu he’s an adult, he can voice is widdle feelings >:/

[y/n]: i don’t think he has feelings for me.  I think it was a mistake.   [y/n]: idk what’s worse tbh

[yuwuji]: … r u sure ? 

[noapybara]: what do you know.

[yuwuji]: no nothing i just meant he’s shy and awkward

[y/n]: VERY AWKWARD YEAH I GOT THAT

[nocapybara]: yuji ur his best friend.  u definitely know something.  spill. does he have the hots for (y/n/n) or not

[yuwuji]: hey i don’t spill secrets!!!!

[nocapybara]: SO THERE ARE SECRETS TO SPILL THEN????

With every new message, (y/n) felt her heart pounding in her chest a little harder.  She hoped the radio was loud enough to drown out the sound of it.  They were still a couple of minutes away from Jujutsu Tech, and she needed a solution by the time they got there.  She had a feeling that if she didn’t come up with a plan and fast, then Megumi would continue to ignore her, and it would never be brought up again.

[yuwuji]: well… i guess it’s not a secret that he talks about her a lot… 

It was easy to mistake Megumi’s silence for disinterest- and at first, he would say that he was ignoring the entire thing.  He didn’t have an ounce of desire to bring it up in front of present company, but after a few minutes of riding in silence, he thought maybe ignoring it forever was his best option.  It was just an accident, people caught up in the moment all the time, right? What was one little… perfect… kiss anyways? 

Suddenly watching all the trees passing by the window made his stomach twist with nausea, and Megumi had to redirect his gaze to the back of the headrest in front of him.

It wasn’t right of him to kiss her, if he really thought about it.  He’d never even confessed to her- and to just kiss her like that? Megumi could barely recognize himself.  He was never so brazen, he was always the reserved, calculated one.  He was the one that thought things through before making a final decision, he was never brash, never bold, and he would never make a move on someone without telling them properly how he felt…

His stomach lurched again.  Was he getting carsick? 

He’d never really considered telling (y/n) about his feelings for her before.  Sure, he’d known for a while that she wasn’t like the others, she was different, special, held in a different, more secluded place in his heart away from all the others.  If he was being honest with himself, he’d probably felt that way since high school.  The problem was Megumi was always realistic when evaluating his options, so when his feelings for her were fully realized, he’d weighed his options and decided that the potential of losing a friend and a phenomenal partner over a confession would be pathetic.

So he packed his feelings up in a box and left it in the back of his mind.  And that box would just have to stay there.

The ping of his phone drew him out of his spiraling, stomachache-inducing thoughts.

[itadori]: yo u kissed (y/n)?? hell yeah!!!

It felt like his heart imploded, and all of the air in his lungs was sucked out before he could try to gasp to preserve it.  His eyes nearly bore a hole through the screen of his phone before his head shot up, peeking at the front seat where (y/n) sat, typing away on her phone.  He couldn’t see who she was texting, but he didn’t need to, because the recipient of her texts just told on himself.

Now he was sure he was going to be sick.  He made a mental note to pack anti-nausea for the car rides after assignments.

When they finally got back to Jujutsu Tech, (y/n) was swift in her exit of the car and stride towards the building.  She not only didn’t utter a word to him, but she didn’t cast him a second glance.  Her eyes were glued to her phone and her walking pace was, well, she was nearly jogging away.

He could just let her walk away, accept that the both of them would mutually forget about the whole thing.

“(y/n)!” Megumi had to call after her as he broke into a light jog in order to catch up.  She glanced over her shoulder, and her speed walking slowed to a normal pace as he caught up to her.

She’s quick to lock her phone and tuck it back into her pocket.

Megumi lets out a sigh as he gives in to instinct.

“Look, I didn’t mean to do that, and I’m sorry, alright?” 

She stops in her tracks then, effectively halting him too, but it doesn’t seem like it’s because she’s suddenly inclined to focus all of her attention on conversing with him.

“Are you trying to say you kissed me by accident?” She frowns.

“Well, I guess-” 

“Because that’s not a thing,” She interrupts him.  “You kissed me, consciously, and, like, for a good minute-” 

“But I didn’t mean to, you practically dared me!” Megumi argued, only making her scoff and let out a laugh, humored by his ridiculous argument.

“Who cares? You kissed me!” She reminds him with a tilt of her head.  “Are you saying if I challenged you to jump off a bridge would you do that too?” 

“Well maybe the bridge isn’t that tall” Megumi refuted, before frowning and rolling his eyes at how stupid he sounded.  There was no taking that one back, (y/n) was already laughing.

“Just admit it, Megumi.  Some part of you wanted to kiss me, so you did” 

“Not until you admit that you asked me to, technically” 

“Fine! I did ask you to! Happy?” 

“Delighted, because I wanted to!” 

“Well if you’ve wanted to so bad then why are you yelling at me and not kissing me!?”  

“I don’t know!” 

With a simultaneous groan of frustration, the pair don’t waste anymore time arguing before acting.  She all but throws herself against him but Megumi’s just as swift at wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her off her feet and at a height that gives him easy reach to slam his lips against hers.  Every once of passion he’d poured into their last kiss is revisited in full with this one too, and (y/n) starts to get the idea that every kiss is going to sweep her off her feet all the same.

With her arms wound around his neck to better keep herself secure, she hopes that he feels every bit of electricity that she does.

And he does, he’s just a bit too preoccupied trying to balance taking in oxygen and kissing her like his life depended on it to communicate that to her now.  At least in words.  Wandering hands filled in the gaps for now.

It took them long enough, after all, there would be time to talk about it later. ___

a/n: i imagine the groupchat lights tf up after the second one :3

xoxo ~ jordie

[harunayuuka2060]

WHB Series #1 (Cont.)

Satan, Mammon, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Belphegor, and Lucifer: *are in a meeting to discuss the situation in heaven*

Leviathan: Over the past few weeks, we've been hearing cries from above, followed by silence, only for the sound to repeat again.

Leviathan: It appears the slaughter of angels is still ongoing.

Lucifer: Let’s not forget that young devils are being released and sent to the countries best suited to their abilities.

Lucifer: I've recently received ten young devils.

Mammon: Not bad. I've got 30 young devils.

Beelzebub: *chuckles* Well, it seems that Belphie and I are the only kings who haven’t been given young devils.

Belphegor: It's because the descendant of Solomon thinks we're irresponsible.

Belphegor: *smiles* Not that they're wrong though.

Satan: Have got any news on what MC is doing?

Leviathan: ...

Leviathan: I've tried going there myself, but it seems the security has been tightened, making it difficult for outsiders to enter.

Leviathan: However, I encountered two angels who willingly told me what the descendant of Solomon was up to.

Leviathan: And according to them, they-

Random Angel A: ...Fixing the system.

Random Angel B: We may be assigned to the human world for our new duties.

The kings: ...

Satan: Ah, it reminds me of their military training.*laughs*

Mammon: Anything else?

Leviathan: ...

Leviathan: Foras will attempt to visit them next time.

Mammon: I see. Oh, I almost forgot.

Mammon: Are we going to call them 'god' the next time we meet?

Satan: No, don't do that.

Lucifer: I agree. I doubt the descendant of Solomon would like it.

Belphegor: Huh... But didn't you say so yourself that they're the reincarnation of god?

Lucifer: I did; however, for them, it was all an act to subdue the angels.

Beelzebub: That's true. Besides, I don't think 'love' is even in their vocabulary.

Satan: Hey! They can love!

Leviathan: Yes. Love for animals.

The kings: ...

MC: *with their head resting on Michael's lap as they look through the names of the remaining angels*

Michael: ...

Gabriel and Raphael: ...

Raphael: God, you could have used me as your pillow. I'd be more than willing.

MC: You and Gabriel won't stop fighting, so it's better this way.

Michael: 'Better this way'? Are you confident that I won't kill you?

MC: *looks at him with a bored expression*

MC: You've had many chances to kill me, including this one.

MC: It's not my fault you're incompetent.

Michael: ...

Raphael and Gabriel: ...

MC: *sigh* *gets up*

MC: Gabriel, Raphael, let's go.

MC: There are still rats lurking in the corners of heaven. *talking about the angels who escaped Raphael and Gabriel*

Foras: Is this what they're doing now?

MC: *watches as the lower-rank angels get killed*

Foras: ...

MC: What are you doing here, Foras? Did Leviathan send you?

Foras: !!!

Foras: ...

Foras: Yes.

MC: What for?

Foras: His Majesty has been curious about what you've been up to.

MC: You can see for yourself.

Foras: ...

MC: Raphael.

Raphael: *turns to look at them* *smiles* Yes, god?

MC: ...

MC: I noticed that some of them are good-looking ones. Who created them?

Raphael: They're angels under Michael's guidance.

MC: Ah. Save their heads. I'm going to recycle them.

Raphael: ...

Foras: *his eyes widened*

Raphael: ...

Raphael: As you wish, god.

Gabriel: ...

Gabriel: *begins crushing the heads of the dead angels beneath his feet*

MC: Gabriel, that's enough.

Gabriel: But—

MC: *gives him a stern look*

Gabriel: ... *blushes*

Foras: ...

Foras: It seems you have it under control.

MC: *proud smile* Right?

Raphael and Gabriel: *thinking that the smile is for them*

Raphael: *accidentally crushed the head he's holding*

Raphael: ...

Gabriel: Pft—

MC: ...

MC: What a shame. I liked that one.

Raphael: ...

Raphael: I'll be more careful next time.

Foras: ...

Leviathan, Barbatos, and Glasyalabolas: ...

Glasyalabolas: I wish I could've seen that myself.

Barbatos: Did they tell you what they would do with those?

Foras: No.

Leviathan: ...

Foras: Your Majesty?

Leviathan: ...

Leviathan: *chuckles* Let's wait to find out what it is.

[thick-monster-thighs]

I beg. You HAVE to please do a Pilot Yautja from Killer of Killers x solider Yautja reader. just imagine it, seeing you're superior being frustrated he can't find a planet worthy for his hunt because he's grown bored of it. Then reader decides to offer themselves to him as a "stress reliever"....

I swear he looks so dominating and demanding

I cannot get that yautja out of my head idc if he's bald he's still fine!!😩

but yeah the reader can be GN! since I think ALL should have a taste of him😋

one serving of the bald cutie coming right up

Title: Stress Relief Rating: Explicit (18+) Fandom: Predator: Killer of Killers Ship: Baron (Male Yautja) x GN Yautja!Reader Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: NSFW

He's pissed. But then again, when isn't he? The Baron pulls another cable out of the console near the pilot's seat, cursing quietly to himself as the lights on the centre console, directly in front of the steering, flash weakly. As he pulls out another plasma cable, a sharp flash of light dances across the panel, causing him to recoil with an angry hiss and twich of his mandibles. You struggle to suppress a snort of laughter, but when the Baron is as annoyed as he is today, provoking a fight is not a good idea. "Why the rush?" you ask instead, leaning against the console with one hand on the knife attached to your belt. It's always within reach, there to keep you safe when talking to the pilots. All pilots have a short fuse for their own reasons, but they are all connected by their wild temperaments. And he's no exception. He's your assigned pilot and is technically a rank above you. As a mechanic for the Vayuh'ta Kv'var-de, the fighter pilots, you have to deal with his moods and quirks. But would you openly confront a superior just because he's annoying you with his angry rants about the poor electronics in his consoles? And it's not even your area of expertise or your fault? No, it's better to remain neutral and avoid setting off his temper further.

"I'm in a hurry because I'm flying to the next planet. The next hunt," he replies curtly, with an aggressive undertone. He disappears back into the console, pushes the next panel aside, and searches for the cause of the malfunctioning internal sensors. You nod and snort through your closed mandibles. "Then fly without the internal sensors," you reply. "The external sensors are working." The growling from inside the console grows louder, and you can smell the pilot's anger. The smell is bitter and deep; even the smell of a burnt-out plasma line cannot mask it. Caution is advised - he seems really angry. However, you can't resist hitting your knee against an outer panel of the console with a dull thud.

"That's the fourth planet in this cycle," you say deliberately, while noticing his aggressive scent unleashing a certain anger in you as well. If you're not careful, this will end in a fight. Or is that exactly what he wants? It wouldn't be the first time you've taken out your frustrations on each other. "You won't find what you're looking for in the stars." Now you've gone too far. With a roar, the Baron pulls himself away from the spaceship's console and slams you against the cockpit wall by pushing his chest into yours. You immediately reach for the spear on your back, but he's faster: With a precise and calculated movement, he catches your hand and redirects it away from the weapon. Using his other hand, he reaches around you from the other side, pulls the spear from its anchor in your armour and throws it carelessly to the side where it lands with a clatter on the floor. You and your opponent both growl, mandibles open to threaten and impress, to read each other's scent and intentions. Your insolence is an affront and an act of presumption - you both know it - but it's too late to take back your words. Instead, the Baron presses you against the wall, puts one hand on your throat and makes it unmistakably clear that one does not question a superior.

Your mandibles fold back; it's more of a staring contest than open aggression now. Since you've already got him all worked up, why not kick him while he's down?

"Did the council approve your list of planets?" you ask hoarsely, voice dulled by the hand on your throat. “Did they approve every hunt? Every single one that you think isn't good enough for you? Or are you doing all this under the cloak of deception?” He grunts, neither amused nor appreciative of these words. He certainly doesn't respond to these questions with a mere growl, because his response is as follows: He takes a slight swing and then rams his fist into your stomach. A dull, pressing pain instantly explodes in the centre of your body, and you hiss in pain - but this is still a very restrained punishment for your presumptuous behaviour by his standards. Normally, he would throw you across the cockpit and engage you in a fight, would not let go until you're bleeding profusely. It wouldn't be the first time you've challenged him and he's challenged you in return. It's a whole thing you two have going on. Instead of fighting back, you grab his belt and push aside the metal loincloth. Your hand follows the leather straps that hold the belt and weapon holder in place, quickly finding the target of this intimate, impulsive search: your hand closes around his erect cock, twitching impatiently, accustomed to your attention. Is he really that stressed? If yes, then you'll gladly offer to take care of that for him. What warrior would say no to a little fun, a fight of a very special kind? Certainly not the Baron, who is only too happy to put his hand between your legs and demand satisfaction. And after a brief, intense struggle to set the mood, you always do exactly that. You grab him firmly with your hand and run it up and down his length; meanwhile, he grabs your locks and pulls you closer to the wall, his gaze fixed on you as if he wants to supervise the work. Pilots are all the same. They always have to keep a close eye on everything. After the initial slow pumping motion, he tightens his grip on your locks, sending a pleasant shiver down your neck scales. He knows exactly how to give him a good time. Stress relief. Your hand moves faster now, varying the pressure it exerts. You apply less pressure at the base and more at the tip, moving in a way that follows his anatomy. He's hard - very hard - and his pelvis is nestling against your touch. Apparently, a lot has built up over the past sub-cycles, and today it has manifested itself as him angrily cursing about his faulty sensors. All he had to do to get your expert help was ask! But none of the flying warriors can do that - expose themselves by asking and starting a proper mating ritual. They always have to argue first instead of going straight to an erotic battle of strength. The Baron always makes things more complicated than necessary because he has the ego of a council member. And that despite the fact that he himself has only been wearing his mark for a few cycles!

He grunts and presses you closer to the wall. This is a clear sign that he wants more and wants it faster, so you comply with his request and speed up your pumping movements. Occasionally, you brush over his tip as you do so, feeling the soft, warm skin and enjoying the soft growl - or purr? - that vibrates almost imperceptibly in his chest. After two or three minutes, his breathing becomes shallower and more irregular. He groans and presses his face into the crook of your neck, inhales your scent; he inhales the arousal and the desire to give him release. He rubs his pelvis against yours, encouraging the movements of your hand on his shaft. The first drops of hot semen cover the tip of his cock.

Then, with a deep, throaty groan, you push him over the edge and he climaxes, spilling hot liquid between your bodies. Your hand and both of your armours are now wet with the slightly sticky liquid, while he takes a deep breath and hisses a content growl against the scales of your neck.

"S'yuit-de," he whispers. Shit. His deep voice sounds much less tense and the clicks in his pronunciation are less sharp. Good — maybe he's a little more bearable now than before. However, when you pull your hand out from between your bodies to wipe it off, he grabs the back of one of your thighs with one hand and roughly pushes your loincloth aside witht the other hand. With the annoying fabric out of the way, he can now grab your other leg as well and push you up against the wall. His still hard cock presses against the inside of your thigh as he searches for the tight entrance he's only too happy to claim for himself. Oh, okay. It seems there's still more stress he needs to relieve. But - that's fine with you. Maybe he'll be less pissed after round two.

[benedictscanvas]

pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes. 

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

[thedraculacat]

Not Him ೃ⁀⤵

draco malfoy x reader

masterlist

synopsis: enemies to lovers, but it's excruciating. You'd swear up and down that Malfoy is just your assigned seatmate, that his smirks don't make your heart pound, that you definitely don't care when Pansy flirts with him- except you do. And when he leads you to the Room of Requirement to sort things out... well, maybe the word "tolerable" was the understatement of the century.

edit: ty for all the love on this post 💕 it was so unexpected!! 💕

w/c: 1.1k

When your friends start whispering, you know you’re in trouble.

You’ve hardly sat down at your usual spot in the Great Hall when Daphne leans in, her eyes shining with amusement. “So, Y/N, I’ve noticed something interesting lately.”

“Hm,” you reply as you place your food down on the long table. “Oh, have you? And what might that be?”

“You and Draco Malfoy sit together in class.”

Across from you, Theo grins. “And you talk to him. A lot.”

Even Blaise adds, “And you leave class together. A lot.”

You roll your eyes, already regretting showing up for breakfast. “Yeah, well we sit next to each other because that’s where we’re assigned. We talk because it’s either that or listen to Professor Binns drone on and on about the goblin wars. And we leave together because we sit together- basic physics, really.”

Pansy hums as she stirs her tea. “So if that’s all it is, you wouldn’t mind helping me talk to him, then?”

You freeze mid-bite of your toast and narrow your eyes. “Excuse me? You want me to help you hit on Draco Malfoy of all people?”

Pansy’s lips curl into a knowing grin. “Come on, Y/N, you know him better than I do. You could give me an in!”

Your stomach twists. You glance down at the table where Malfoy is deep in conversation with Crabbe and Goyle, his usual bored expression on his face. You should say no. You should absolutely say no.

Instead, you force a casual shrug. “Do whatever you want. It’s not like I care.”

Theo lets out a low whistle. “That was unconvincing.”

Blaise leans in. “Very.”

Daphne studies your face carefully as you try to hide behind your plate of food, stuffing mouthfuls in your face. “Are you sure, Y/N? I mean, if you like him-”

“No,” you cut in too quickly, your face burning. “Are you serious? Draco? No way, not him. He’s certainly not my type. I mean, he’s tolerable but I wouldn’t say-”

Pansy, apparently taking that as permission, grins widely. “Brilliant. Let’s start after class!”

And just like that, you’ve sealed your fate.

It’s worse than you expected.

The moment class ends, Pansy links her arm through yours and all but drags you toward Draco. He barely has time to sling his bag over his shoulder before Pansy is at his side, flipping her hair and laughing at something you’re certain isn’t funny.

You stand there, trapped, as she pressed close, her hand brushing against his arm.

“Draco, just this morning, Y/N and I were talking about how unfairly charming you are.”

Draco raises an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to you. “Oh? Is that so?”

Your mouth opens, then closes. You can feel heat creeping up your neck. “I- no, that wasn’t-”

Pansy grins. “She said you were tolerable, which, coming from her, is practically a love letter.”

You shoot her a glare, but Draco just hums, eyes still on you. “Tolerable, huh?”

You clear your throat, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “Don’t let it get to your head, Malfoy.”

He smirks. “Too late.”

Pansy giggles, and suddenly you can’t stand it- the way she twirls a strand of hair, the way she leans in just slightly. And worst of all, the way Draco doesn’t pull away.

You force a breath. “I have to go. I need the bathroom.”

And then you’re gone, slipping away before she can stop you.

Once you think you’ve managed to escape, you turn a corner and let out a breath. However, it’s not too long until a familiar voice calls out, “Running away from me, are you?”

You don’t jump- barely. Spinning around, you find Draco leaning against the wall, watching you with a look that’s far too amused.

You cross your arms. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

He steps closer, just enough to make your pulse skip. “Come with me.”

Your brows knit. “Where?”

His lips twitch as though he’s enjoying the expression on your face. “You’ll see.”

Every rational part of you screams that this is a bad idea. That you should walk back to your dorm instead. That whatever this thing is between you- this unspoken, infuriating, exhilarating thing- you should ignore it.

But then his hand brushes against yours- just barely- and suddenly you can’t think at all.

“Fine,” you mutter. “But if this is a trick, I’m hexing you.”

He grins. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

You recognize where he’s leading you the moment you step through the door.

The Room of Requirement.

The space is dimly lit, lined with tall shelves of books and baubles. A large window you’re certain doesn’t exist in the castle overlooks the darkening grounds.

Draco steps behind you. “Close your eyes.”

You stiffen. “What?”

“Just trust me.”

 Your breath hitches. But after a moment, you obey, your heart pounding as Draco’s hands come up- one covering your eyes while the other gently guides you forward.

His touch is light, careful. And when he finally whispers, “Okay. Open,” your pulse is racing.

Your eyes flutter open and you suck in a breath.

Above you, hundreds of tiny silver stars float in the air, shimmering softly. They swirl gently, like they’re actually alive, and cast a glow that makes the whole room feel unreal.

You stare with your lips parted. “Draco…”

He shifts beside you, suddenly more hesitant. “I- um. I’ve been working on this. It’s stupid, but I thought you’d like it.”

You turn to him, still in awe. “You made this?”

His gaze flickers back at the stars. “Yeah, well, magic helps, Y/N.”

Something in your chest tightens. “It’s beautiful.”

Silence stretches between you, the air thick with something you’re almost afraid to name.

Then, barely above a whisper, he says, “You really don’t like me?”

Your breath catches.

His eyes are searching, vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen. 

Your throat feels dry. “Draco-”

“Blaise told me what you said. But I think,” he says softly, “that you do.”

The words steal the air from your lungs. Because you do. Of course you do. It’s infuriating and you don’t know how to say it- so you don’t. Instead, you kiss him.

It isn’t graceful. It’s desperate, almost clumsy, because you’ve been holding this in for too long. His lips are warm, softer than you expected, and for a moment, he freezes- because he exhales sharply and kisses you back.

His hands find your waist, pulling you closer. Your fingers curl into his shirt, anchoring yourself, because the room is spinning, because this is really happening, because Draco Malfoy is kissing you like he’s wanted to for ages.

And when you finally pull away, breathless, he rests his forehead against yours, lips curling into a smirk.

“Tolerable, huh?”

You laugh, shoving him lightly. “Shut up.”

But then he kisses you again, and you think maybe, just maybe, you don’t mind at all.

masterlist

[scented-morker]

Remember?

Shoutout to kiki for requesting from my Romance Untold event!! I love you mootie, I hope you like this!! exes to ?, Jake x fem!reader, 990 words, fluff.

Your friendgroup decideds to celebrate Valentine’s Day together. The only problem? You’re friends with your ex. And he doesn’t know how to act like he’s not in love with you.

Being friends with your ex was no big deal, really.

A small part of you liked to think it was the pinky promise you'd forced Jake to agree to the minute he asked you out romantically. "No matter what happens, we stay friends."

However, another, more honest part of you knew that even after a break up, Jake was just not the kind of person you could stay away from.

Which is how you ended up in this situation in the first place, a tray of heart shaped cookies in one hand, and a gift bag dangling from your fingers.

Spending Valentines Day with your friends was a much better option than spending it on the couch with a tub of ice cream mourning your newfound singleness. Now you just have to make it through a couple hours without accidentally falling back in love with Jake, no biggie.

"Yn!!" Sunoo cheers as soon as you enter the apartment, taking the tray out of your hands so you can shrug off your coat.

“About time you got here,” Sakura calls from the dining room.

A familiar voice comes next, and you hate the way your heart still reacts to it.

“You’d think after all these years you’d know yn is gonna show up fifteen minutes after what you tell her.”

You cross the threshold after kicking your shoes off, and snatch a throw pillow off Jays couch to toss at Jake.

“Easy girl,” he laughs, snatching it out of the air before it hits square in his face.

You roll your eyes and head through the living room towards the dining room where Sunoo has now set your cookies on the table with the rest of the treats your friends brought.

You greet Chaewon with a hug while she tells you about her work shift that morning.

Jay calls out for help setting the table, and the next thing you know the six of you are sat around the dining table, dishes littering the space in front of you.

A pan with steaks is being passed around, and you stare at them when it gets to you. It makes sense that Jay chose the fancy meat for the occasion, and you felt bad about how picky you were, knowing you probably wouldn’t eat most of it after cutting.

“That one’s for you,” Jake supplies helpfully from his seat next to you, picking up the tongs to grab one of the peices from the side and putting it on your plate.

He makes no further comment as he continues passing the tray.

However, once the conversation has started back up, he slides your plate closer to his own and reaches out with his knife.

“I told Jay you liked yours well done. I know you get freaked because you’re convinced it’s bleeding when you cut into it otherwise.” He says it with an airy laugh, not a care in the world as he cuts your steak into bite sized pieces.

When he’s done, he holds a piece up to your face, letting you get a look at it, cooked exactly the way you like.

You have to restrain yourself from kissing him right then and there, the fondness in his eyes and actions sending your heart into a frenzy.

“Thank you, Jake.”

He grins at you for a moment too long, his eyes boring into yours until Jay calls his name.

When you finally drag your own away from his figure, you’re met with a teasing look on Chaewon’s face.

You give her an impolite hand gesture before happily eating the rest of your meal, ignoring the way Jake’s knee bumps into yours under the table.

Soon enough, you’re spread out on the floor of the living room with a gift bag from a randomly assigned friend in front of each of you.

Everyone starts going through their bags, yelling and showing the person next to them in excitement.

From your spot on the floor, you don’t notice Jake on the couch behind you setting his bag next to him and opting to watch as you pull on pink tissue paper.

Inside is the newly released book you needed to finish your series, your favorite scent of perfume, a box of chocolate covered strawberries, and a sunflower Lego set.

Your head immediately whips towards Jake, finding him already looking at you with the biggest smile on his face.

The legos were the exact set you helped him build after your first date, when you’d gone back to his apartment after dinner and slipped into one of his flannels while he dumped the pieces all over his bed.

You reason that a hug is reasonable considering he just got you an extremely thoughtful gift, but all thoughts of justifying it to your friends disappear as soon as Jake’s arms are around you.

You lean your head into his neck, his familiar cologne surrounding you as his hands run up and down your back.

“Thank you,” you mumble into him.

“You really thought I wouldn’t remember what you like? Please, give me a little credit.”

You let out a laugh, and Jake’s skin erupts into goosebumps at the feeling.

When you finally pull away from the hug, you get hit in the face with a ball of tissue paper, and you turn to find everyone staring at the two of you.

“Ok can you open the gift that I so carefully picked out for you now?” Jay asks, and Jake finally focuses on his own gift.

His left hand falls onto your shoulder as you sit back down on the floor in front of him, and you don’t make any attempt to move it.

When he gives Jay a hug for his gift, Sakura leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Why’d you two break up again?”

You flush red and swat at her, but as Jake’s hand returns to its spot on your shoulder you find yourself wondering the same thing.

[sun-flower-children]

Academic Rivals! Viktor x Reader

Academy Student!Viktor x gn!Reader

Here's my take on this idea that has been rumbling around my brain especially with all the new viktor fics ( yall are doing the lords work)

not proof read + a lot longer than I thought it would be, sorry lmao

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were the Academy's top student known to be the top of the class with the highest scores always exceeding expectations.

Your creative thinking and problem solving is what normally got you the spotlight of attention within academia.

Naturally after spending your first two years of the Academy eating up the attention and receiving offers from multiple elite members of society, industry and government certainly made your resume/reputation an intimidating one.

Your peers knew you to be competitive and ambitious wanting to be the one to set the curve; extensive research projects, etc.

This did however make you a poor teammate with your passionate ideas that one of them could dream of keeping up with you. Plus you would steal the leadership role from them to implement the changes you'd want.

You had gotten used to pattern created for you with a bright future ahead.

Even if you were getting kind of bored of knowing that your worst idea would still allow you to keep your rank.

Then all the sudden a new student joins the Academy

It didn't bother you much until you started seeing a drop in your scores and ranking thus creating a rivalry with this mysterious student.

It was not until you and Viktor shared a class that you realized who your academic opponent was

Thus starting a new chapter of your academic career with renewed passion upon knowing there was finally someone that could equal you in skill.

Fighting for everything within the academic realm that was available

Now neither of you had ever officially been introduced or carried a proper conversation instead replacing regular communication with pointed looks of smugness or confidence.

You would have angry fits in private realizing the margin that you had lost to Viktor

Long days and nights spent gaining a potential advantage over your rival.

Your friends would point out how you would almost pop a vein just describing the way that he would "usurp the first place on an exam all because of a technicality"

Honestly when you would get really into it you were sure that you hated this guy: coming out of nowhere with no prior history and just takes over everything you have worked hard to establish.

Who does he think he is????

Now all your professors, namely Himerdinger paid close attention to this rivalry. It's entertaining watching your top 2 students hash it out and creating things they would not have without this push.

Himerdinger seeing how honed in your other skills were decided to create a project for the class specifically targeting you both.

A partnered project

One that could not change neither the topic, the partner or the day that it was to be presented; everything set in stone.

" Learning the skills needed in a lab is one thing but the most important and impactful discoveries have always been those created through teamwork." Himerdinger would share one fateful day as he put up the paper listing the groups.

It did not even cross your mind that you would have been paired with Viktor and after looking at the poster turned around a looked at him.

Viktor was still sitting in his front row seat in the lecture room patiently waiting for the crowd to dissipate before getting up to look at the paper.

He continued to wrap up whatever notes he had taken as you step up to him.

"We are assigned partners for this project." you say very matter a factly.

Viktor looks up to you with a small smile," Well then, we should set up times to work on the project together. What times work best for you?"

You were taken aback by his nonchalance.

Did he really not care that he was partnered with you? Did he not see you as significant enough to mention the obvious tension? Did he not even see you as a rival but a regular student below him???

After a short pause you share what time you are normally at the library.

As you share the details he finished packing up his stuff.

Looking back up to with another slightly bigger smile (what is his game???) " I'll see you then. Tomorrow at table four."

With that he leans on his cane and leaves you in the quiet empty classroom to deliberate your next moves.

That night you started working on the project creating multiple schemes, ideas, and conceptual ideas that could be used for the project put forth.

You went to bed hoping to finally force him to recognize you as the rival that you were as he seemed so dismissive before.

You showed up to the library at the arranged time to see Viktor sitting peacefully at a study table thumbing through multiple volumes seemingly looking for a specific piece of information.

"Good Morning." you started as you walked up to him.

Without even looking up he returns the same early day greeting and places yet another volume aside and opening a new one.

Raising an eyebrow that the attitude you place your things on the other side of the table.

"I was thinking last night about this project and had written down some ideas that I believe that we should pick from as our approach." you open the discussion with no changed behavior from your supposed teammate.

You continue, " I have already taken the liberty to research them, for your convenience, and have supplied preliminary data for each one. Honestly any of these would resolve the problem raised by our projects prompt with their main difference being how creative you wanted to get with it."

Viktor has created yet another pile of abandoned books that didn't meet his mysterious criteria all the while not regarding you properly.

Your felt your self becoming more warmer as you felt the irritation pool into the oil pit of anger you have created surrounding him.

"It's considered polite to respond or at the very least acknowledge when someone is talking to you. Or are you so focused on your book hunt you aren't ever looking at the person you are supposed to be completing this project with."

Viktor sighs putting the book currently in his possession down and looks up to you.

"It was not my intention to be rude I am just looking for a specific volume that has a unique perspective on the concept we learned a week ago but the title is slipping my mind."

Sighing you sit down and observe the collection of books created on the table.

"I'm going to go on a limb here and assume that you only really remember that the color of the book was dark blue?"

Viktor chuckled," Observant and yes I am."

"Well you aren't going to find it in the library considering there is only one copy of it. That author's take was considered almost heretic."

"Ah, so you are familiar with the book I am referencing?"

"It would be strange if I didn't considering that I brought it with me to our meeting. I checked it out a week ago because it piqued my interest and also happened to align with this assignment."

You hold it out over the table as Viktor sighs again running a hand through his hair.

The meeting ended up going on for longer than expected.

You were surprised to find that he has a similar perspective to yours and understood your vision from the multiple proposals that you had created.

Further analysis showed some minor flaws that would otherwise be overlooked by other people; but neither of you too were not going to settle for anything less than perfection.

The more that the two of you poured over ideas, equations, concepts, and plans until you came up with a path that pleased you both with only one variable that needing some testing.

Viktor offered to go his smaller private study that he had already set up a similar experiment (he was also trying ideas out the night before)

Walking side by side down the hallways was a strange feeling.

Not because you were walking slower that your default rushed walking pace but because this person that you had, honestly, really hated and rationalized that was cheating somehow....wasn't.

You hated to admit it as you continued to listen to his rambling on of the missing component that they needed to figure out.

(Shit...he is actually just naturally brilliant)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

part 1 | part 2 >

[sirxaibs]

Nathan Prescott X Fem!Reader

The Rich Asshole . ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

masterlist

So i have a few conflicting emotions when it comes to this character. from when i found the game I hated this guy. Though like most people there is an ounce of remorse that we feel for this character. However, my love for him is so conflicting because as much as he is a victim, he is the reason for what happened to rachel. Anyways here is my little story with my conflicting feelings. ALSO YOU CAN SAY HE ISN’T AT FAULT BUT HE IS. just because he was lead to these decisions does not mean he still didn’t do them.

“Fuck off, Prescott!” Your voice snapped down the hall, sharp enough to make a freshman nearly drop his textbooks.

Nathan, slouched against the lockers like he owned the goddamn place, gave a slow, mocking clap. “Wow. Real mature, (Y/L/N). You kiss your mommy with that mouth?” His tone was lazy, but his eyes pinned you like a bug to a wall.

You marched toward him, shoving your bag higher onto your shoulder. “I’d rather kiss a loaded shotgun than deal with your shit for the next two weeks.”

Nathan pushed off the locker with a sneer, standing tall. Taller than you, not that you’d ever admit it.

“Newsflash, bitch you think I wanna work with you?” he snapped, crumpling the project assignment sheet in his fist. “I’d rather fucking drown in a Porta Potty.”

You jabbed a finger into his chest a stupid move, because under all that overpriced denim and leather, he was solid muscle but you were way past giving a shit. “Then drop out, Prescott. No one would miss you.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes. You couldn’t tell because just as fast, he leaned in closer, face twisted in a sneer. “You’d miss me, sweetheart. You need someone to take your boring ass life up a notch.” His voice was low, practically a growl. “You’re so desperate for excitement you’ll probably fucking love having me around.”

“You’re delusional,” you spat, shoving past him.

But Nathan wasn’t done. He followed, keeping pace easily, his voice dropping into that dangerous, mocking tone he used when he wanted to pick someone apart. “Face it. You’re just pissed because you have to finally realized you’re not better than me.”

You whirled around, nearly slamming into his chest. “I am better than you,” you hissed, close enough to see the fine scars nicking the side of his jaw, the ones most people didn’t notice under the arrogant smirk. “I don’t have to buy my friends, or bribe my teachers ”

Nathan laughed, sharp and ugly. “Yeah? Keep telling yourself that, bitch. Maybe one day you’ll actually believe it.”

The tension between you vibrated like a taut wire, ready to snap. Across the hall, Mr. Jefferson poked his head out of his classroom door. “Everything okay over there?”

You both spoke at the same time:

“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Peachy,” Nathan drawled with a fake grin.

Mr. Jefferson raised an eyebrow but disappeared back into the classroom without another word. Nathan turned back to you, the smile dropping immediately. “We’re meeting at the library. Tomorrow. Four o’clock,” he said, his voice all business now, like he could barely stand to look at you.

“Don’t be fucking late, (Y/L/N). I don’t wanna waste more time than I have to babysitting your dumbass.”

You gave a mocking bow. “Oh, your majesty. Should I bring you a goddamn throne too?”

Nathan just rolled his eyes, shoving his hands deep into his jacket pockets as he stalked off down the hall without another glance at you. You stood there, fists clenched, heart pounding. God, you hated Nathan Prescott.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

The library clock ticked past 4:00 PM. You drummed your fingers on the table, glaring at the empty seat across from you. Your notebook lay open, pen uncapped. Still no Nathan.

At 4:17, he finally strolled in with all the grace of someone who gave absolutely zero fucks sunglasses on indoors, slouched walk, earphones dangling. You didn’t disappoint. “You’re fucking late,” you snapped the second he dropped into the chair across from you with a loud, obnoxious scrape. Nathan didn’t even look at you. Just threw his bag on the table, knocking your pen to the floor.

“Cry harder.”

You scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah? So’s your face, but here we are.”

You clenched your jaw, grabbing your pen. “You gonna actually contribute or just sit there throwing middle school insults?”

Nathan pulled out a crumpled folder and dropped it onto the table like it weighed ten pounds. “I already did my part. You can finish it. You’re the one who actually gives a shit.”

“You call this your part?” You flipped through the papers of barely legible answers. “This looks like it was written by a brain damaged raccoon.”

He smirked. “Well you and the raccoon have something in common. Both can’t shut the fuck up.”

You leaned in, voice low and furious. “I’m not doing this whole thing alone, Prescott. If I fail because of your lazy, coke snorting ass, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Nathan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, gaze dark and slow. “Blow me, princess.”

You didn’t flinch. You just smiled. Sweet. Cold. “I don’t do charity work.”

A few heads turned. You didn’t care. Neither did he. Nathan barked out a laugh bitter, humorless and sat forward again, voice tighter. “You think you’re tough?”

“No,” you said, deadly calm. “I know I’m better than you. You just hate that I don’t suck up to your daddy’s money like everyone else in this school.”

His smile dropped like a stone. “You’re right,” he said, quiet and sharp. “You’re not like everyone else. You’re just louder, bitchier, and a hell of a lot more annoying.”

“At least I don’t need pills and daddy’s lawyers to make it through the day.”

“Fuck you,” he muttered, but he opened the book anyway. Slouched so low in his chair you wondered how he could even see the words.

You tried to focus on your own work, but the sound of Nathan tapping his pen against the table made your skin itch. Every two minutes he let out a sigh, a groan, or muttered some sarcastic shit under his breath.

Finally, you snapped.

“If you hate this so much, maybe you should’ve told Jefferson to pair you with someone who gives a shit about your trust fund problems.” Nathan slammed the book closed so hard it made a few nearby students jump.

“Yeah, because you’re so fucking perfect, huh? Probably got your whole boring little life planned out already. Graduate, go to some shitty state school, get a lame job, marry some douchebag with a Prius ”

“At least I’m not gonna OD in my daddy’s beach house!” you hissed back, the words out before you could stop them.

The library went deadly quiet. Even the air seemed to freeze. Nathan’s eyes darkened. His whole face twisted, raw and ugly, and for a terrifying second, you thought he might actually throw something at you. Instead, he stood up so fast his chair tipped over behind him.

“Fuck this,” he snarled.

The librarian barked from the desk, “Hey! shut up or get out!”

Nathan didn’t even flinch. He grabbed his bag and stormed out, shoving the door open so hard it banged against the wall. You stayed frozen in your seat, chest heaving, throat tight. Some students stared. Others pretended not to notice. Slowly, you packed up your things, the shame burning hotter than your anger now.

You left the library with your jaw tight and your fists clenched so hard your nails bit into your palms. Screw him. Screw his smug face, his broken homework, and that goddamn mouth that never shut up unless he was about to say something even worse.

The cold air outside was a slap, but it helped. You headed toward the dorms, steps quick and angry. Until you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and sure enough, Nathan Prescott was trailing you, jacket half zipped, jaw set like he’d been chewing on broken glass. You stopped. “Are you seriously following me now? What, storming out wasn’t enough for you?”

Nathan didn’t stop until he was right in front of you. Too close. “Why the fuck are you always such a bitch to me?” he snapped.

You blinked. That… wasn’t what you expected. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” he bit, eyes narrowed. “We’ve barely spoken before this week, and you act like you’ve got me all figured out. You’re always ready to throw shit at me like you know me.”

Your mouth opened, but no words came. For once, he wasn’t just being snide he was pissed, yeah, but there was something else under it. Something sharper. Real.

“What the hell did I do to you, huh?” he went on, voice rising. “We’ve never had a conversation before Jefferson paired us up, and you already decided I’m the devil or some shit.”

“You’ve got a reputation, Prescott. Don’t act surprised.”

He laughed. One dry, humorless breath. “Yeah? So that’s it? Some gossip, and suddenly you know who I am?”

You crossed your arms. “I don’t need to know you. I’ve seen enough.”

“No, you’ve seen what you want to see.” He leaned in slightly, voice low. “You think I’m some rich junkie asshole with a fucked up temper and a silver spoon so far up my ass I choke on it, right?” You didn’t answer. The silence said enough. Nathan’s tongue pressed against his cheek. He nodded slowly, like he was trying to swallow something bitter. “Right. Thought so.”

You shifted your weight. “Look, you act like a dick, Nathan. You treat people like they’re beneath you.”

“And you treat me like I’m already guilty of something I didn’t even fucking do.” His tone turned colder. “So what does that make you? If you’re throwing labels at someone without even trying to know them?”

You tried to shove past him, but he stepped in front of you again not touching you, but close enough to make your blood burn. “What? Can’t handle hearing it? You’re so sure you’re better than me?”

“I am better than you.”

“No,” he said, voice like ice, “what kind of self righteous bullshit is that”

You stared at him. His eyes weren’t glazed or cocky like usual, they were clear. You hated how it made your stomach twist. “Just stay the hell away from me,” you muttered.

He didn’t move. “Then stop talking about me like you know me. Because you don’t. And judging by today?” He tilted his head slightly, mouth curled in something bitter. “You’re not half as perfect as you like to pretend.” Then he finally stepped aside, letting you pass. But his words followed you all the way down the sidewalk.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

You moved through the halls walking beside Max while she rambled about her latest photo concept. Her words blurred something about natural light, shadows, an abandoned greenhouse. You nodded here and there, but your attention wasn’t really on her. Nathan Prescott stood across the hall, leaned casually against the lockers in that crimson red sweater he always wore like armor. His hands were shoved into his pockets, posture slouched, head tilted toward Victoria, who was perched beside him. She was talking fast probably gossiping and he was barely listening. His expression was eyes distant.

“Hey, you good?” Max asked, her voice soft as she glanced sideways at you.

You blinked, pulled from your thoughts. “Yeah. Just out of it.”

She smiled lightly. “Blackwell’ll do that to you.”

Across the hall, Nathan looked up. His eyes met yours. You expected him to smirk. Or scoff. Or whisper something to Victoria that would piss you off all over again. He didn’t. He just held your gaze. There was no fire in it this time.

Then Max nudged your shoulder. “C’mon, we’ll be late.”

You turned, walking with her toward class, but the moment stuck with you like a thorn beneath skin. He wasn’t just some cautionary tale wearing expensive clothes. you weren’t as far above the mess as you liked to pretend.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it. You’d barely knocked twice before the door to Nathan’s dorm creaked open, not wide, just enough for a glimpse of his sharp glare and the darkened room behind him. His eyes narrowed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to work on the project,” you replied, shifting your weight.“You bailed on the library. I didn’t have your number.”

Nathan blinked once. Then, without warning, he reached out, grabbed your wrist, and yanked you inside. “Jesus!” The door slammed shut behind you. Before you could blink again, you were standing in the middle of his room dim, cluttered, with a faint smell of smoke and expensive cologne in the air. The only light came from a lamp on his desk, casting long shadows across the mess of camera equipment, crumpled notes, and an open bottle of water. He stood between you and the door, arms crossed, expression sharp.

“You shouldn’t be in the guys’ dorm.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not that deep, Prescott.”

“No,” he said, stepping a little closer, “it’s pathetic. You that desperate to see me? You stalking me now? Perv.”

You stared at him. “Are you always this fucking dramatic?” you snapped. “I came to work. On the project. The thing that’s due next week?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You couldn’t just ask for my number?”

“like your ass would indulge me in any conversation”

Nathan scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “And barging into my dorm was the better option?”

“You ditched me. Again.” You crossed your arms, mirroring him. “I’m not playing chase the rich kid so you can pretend this group project doesn’t exist. I showed up so we can finish the damn thing.”

He stared at you for a long beat.

Then, quietly, “You’re a fucking pain in my ass.”

“I’m passing this class.”

He turned away, flopping onto the edge of his unmade bed, elbows on his knees. “Fine,” he muttered. “If you’re gonna stand there taking over my space, grab a chair. Let’s get it over with.” You hesitated. Just for a second. Then sat down across from him silently waiting for Nathan to open the shared project file. But your eyes kept drifting. His desk was cluttered High end camera bodies rested in velvet lined foam. Lenses of varying sizes were stacked in an open case like polished glass trophies. Film rolls peeked out of a drawer he hadn’t shut properly. And on the wall above his bed, pinned with silver tacks, were photos.

Black and white. Grainy. Sharp.

Some were of strangers street shots, harsh shadows and sharp angles. Others were more abstract: empty chairs, cracked pavement, tree limbs twisting through fog. You didn’t mean to stare so long. But the compositions were striking. Not what you’d expected from someone who talked like he didn’t care about anything. Nathan sat on the edge of his bed, laptop open in front of him, fingers frozen over the keyboard. he wasn’t looking at the screen. He was watching you. Eyes low beneath his lashes, The tension from earlier had settled into something quieter not calm, exactly, but less volatile. He noticed the way your head tilted slightly as you studied a particular photo on the wall, your brow furrowed in faint curiosity. You looked different when you weren’t trying to bite back. He blinked, shook the thought away like an itch under his skin, and finally tapped the space bar.

“You gonna drool or you wanna help?” he muttered, loud enough to snap your attention back.

You blinked, jerking your head toward him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re staring at my shit”

You scoffed. “I was just surprised you’re actually good at something other than being an asshole.”

A grin flickered across his lips. “Wow. Touching praise from someone who broke into my dorm.”

“I didn’t break in.”

“guys dorm remember? That’s trespassing.”

You opened your mouth to fire back then caught the way his voice softened just slightly on that last word. Not enough to call it kind. You leaned forward, finally dragging the chair toward his desk. “Just show me what you’ve done so far. We’re not gonna finish anything if you keep acting like I poisoned your coffee.” He exhaled slowly, shifting the laptop so you could both see the screen. But his gaze lingered on you a second longer before turning to the document. You didn’t notice. He didn’t say anything.

You didn’t know how it happened but somewhere between reviewing the first slides and editing the captions, the two of you had stopped biting at each other. Nathan wasn’t exactly friendly, but he was… tolerable. He made a sarcastic comment about your font choice, and you rolled your eyes but didn’t snap. You pointed out a typo in his work, and he didn’t bark back, just muttered “Yeah, alright,” under his breath and fixed it.

life is strange isnt it?

The lamp on his desk cast a warm glow across the screen as the two of you leaned closer, arguing mildly about the placement of one of the images. You caught a soft twitch at the corner of his mouth not a smile, not quite but something quieter, like he wasn’t entirely annoyed you were here anymore. You glanced at the photo on the slide. One of his shots: a boy sitting on a curb, face obscured by shadow, light cutting sharp across his shoulder. “This one’s your best,” you said before you could stop yourself. Nathan’s eyes flicked to yours, He didn’t say anything. Just stared. Then, his phone buzzed.

Once.

Twice.

He glanced down, pulled it from his pocket lazily, still half focused on the screen. But the moment his eyes locked onto the message, something in him changed. Like a switch flipped. His shoulders tensed. Jaw tightened. Whatever softness had started to settle between you evaporated. He shoved the phone back into his pocket hard. You straightened, uncertain. “Everything okay?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then voice low, clipped “You should go.”

The air dropped ten degrees.

You blinked. “What?”

“I said, you should leave.” He stood abruptly, already walking past you, pacing like the room had become too small to breathe in.

You stood, confused, watching him retreat toward the window without explanation.

“Nathan ”

“Don’t,” he snapped, not turning around. “It’s fine. Project’s fine. everything is fine. the world is fucking fine. I’ll send you the edits later.”

His voice was cold again. The weight was back in the room, that same heaviness you’d felt the first time he looked at you like you were just another person here to take something from him. You didn’t know who had texted him. Or why he looked like the ground had just shifted beneath him. But you didn’t ask. You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder slowly. “Thanks for not being a total dick today,” you said quietly.

No response. You walked to the door, hesitating just a moment before opening it. Nathan still hadn’t turned around. So you left quietly, without another word. The hallway light stung your eyes as the door clicked shut behind you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

Nathan laid on his back, eyes wide open, blinking into the ceiling. He hadn’t moved in hours not really. He’d thrown on a hoodie sometime after you left, curled in on himself, and stared at nothing as the hours bled past midnight. His phone buzzed again. Another message. From the same number. He didn’t read it. His chest felt tight. He could hear his own breathing too fast, too shallow. His hands twitched where they gripped the edge of his mattress, fingers white knuckled and cold. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. But it felt worse tonight. Now shame thick in his throat, desperation louder than pride, he opened the school directory, found your name, and typed your number in. He stared at the digits for a long time. Then, he hit Call.

You woke up to the buzz of your phone on your nightstand, groggy and confused.

1:47 AM. Unknown Number.

You almost ignored it. Almost. Though you firmly believed doing stuff for the plot leads to funnier futures.

“Hello?”

For a few seconds, there was only silence. Then a quiet breath. A small, almost inaudible noise. Then, “Don’t hang up.”

Your heart stilled. “Nathan?”

“Um… hi?” you said slowly. “Why are you ”

“I just…” He sounded off. His voice was low, but shaky. Like he was trying to keep it together. “I can’t sleep.”

You were quiet for a second. Not sure what to say. It was weird. You barely knew him. The guy who made it very clear he didn’t want to work with you suddenly calling you in the middle of the night? The hell? “How did you get my number?”

“School directory. Look, I know it’s fucking weird, okay? Just fuck just don’t hang up yet.”

You leaned back in your bed, running a hand down your face. The annoyance faded just a little. There was something raw under his words, something fraying at the edges.

You exhaled. “Alright. I’m not hanging up. What’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away. You heard him breathing though sharp inhales, shallow. Like he was pacing, or panicking.

“I just needed noise or something. I dunno. It’s like my chest’s full of needles.”

Okay. That was more than you expected. You pushed your blanket off and sat up fully, rubbing your eyes awake.

“Okay,” you said softly. “Sounds like a panic attack.”

He let out a laugh. It was bitter. Dry. “No shit.”

You stayed quiet a second, then started talking. Not about anything important just things to fill the space. You told him about the way your floorboards creaked weirdly when it got cold. The dumb poster your roommate hung crooked. The vending machine that kept eating your dollar bills. You weren’t sure why he stayed on the line. You weren’t sure why you did, either. But the minutes passed, and you could hear his breathing start to even out.

At one point, he said, quieter this time, “I didn’t know who else to call.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything. He stayed on the line until you heard nothing but slow, steady breathing. Then the call ended. You thought that was it. Just a one time weird moment. But the next night, your phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number. 12:18 AM.

You stared at it for a second. Then picked up. “Couldn’t sleep again?”

“Fuck off,” Nathan muttered, but his voice didn’t sound angry.

just like that, it became a thing. Not every night, but often enough. He’d call, and you’d talk him through it. Or he’d just listen while you rambled about whatever was in your head. Sometimes he didn’t even say much. You’d just hear his breathing. Then, one night, a text.

[1:03 AM] “Dorm’s a pressure cooker tonight. Need to get out. You up?”

You blinked down at it, thumb hovering over the screen. Then replied. “ok fuckboy, Where?”

[1:04 AM] “Back side of the art building. If you’re not scared of the dark or whatever.”

You pulled a hoodie over your head and slipped out the side door, keeping your steps light across the grass. You found him sitting on the low concrete wall, hoodie on, legs stretched out, a cigarette burning between his fingers. He didn’t look at you when you walked up.

“So… you make a habit of calling girls you don’t like at 1 a.m.?” you asked, standing over him.

He smirked, flicking ash. “You’re the only one dumb enough to answer.”

“Lucky me.”

He scooted over slightly. You sat down next to him, knees brushing briefly. He smelled faintly like smoke and laundry detergent. For a minute, neither of you said anything. Then he muttered, “Thanks. For not being a dick about the calls.”

You glanced at him. That was probably the closest thing to a thank you he was capable of. “Yeah, well,” you said, nudging him with your shoulder, “I’m not completely heartless.”

He gave a dry little laugh and took another drag. And for the first time since you’d met him, Nathan didn’t seem like he was pretending to be someone else.You hopped up beside him, the wall cold through your jeans. He handed you the cig wordlessly, and you took a drag, passing it back before pulling your phone from your hoodie pocket.

Three missed texts.

[1:52 AM Warren G.]

Where are you right now?

[1:53 AM Warren G.]

I just saw you from my window. Was that Nathan Prescott? Seriously??

[1:54 AM Warren G.]

[Y/N], what are you doing with him?

You stared at the screen for a long second, then locked it and shoved it deep into your pocket. You weren’t answering that.Warren was probably the reason you hated him so much. Right now Instead, you pulled a small joint from the hem of your hoodie tucked right where your sleeve met the wristband.

Nathan’s eyes tracked the motion, brow raising. “Since when do you carry?”

“Since tonight, apparently.” You lit it with a flick of a borrowed lighter, watching the paper curl into orange.

Nathan smirked faintly, but there was a flash of something in his face, curiosity. Not judgment. Just… surprise. “Rough night?”

You took a long pull, exhaled upward. “You could say that.”

You didn’t mention Warren. Didn’t mention the way your phone buzzed in your pocket like it was desperate to ruin the quiet. Nathan didn’t push. He just leaned back on his elbows, watching the smoke twist into the dark sky. What has been different from when you started interacting with Nathan more was not telling your friends everything. Warren might be the only reason you didnt like the guy that was sitting beside you. Though even hes such a stick in the mid sometimes.

“Not bad form,” he muttered.

“Thanks.”

He gave a soft snort, and for a minute, the tension dropped. You passed the joint over, and he took it without a word. The smoke danced lazily in the air between you, catching in the wind and disappearing into nothing. You leaned back beside him, body loose from the hit, brain a little fogged like your thoughts were wearing fuzzy socks on a hardwood floor. Nathan took another drag, eyes half lidded, and passed it back to you. You didn’t take it this time. Just stared forward, hands braced behind you, legs kicked out.

“You know,” you started, voice a little slower than usual, like you had to fish the words from somewhere murky, “I think I like you more than I realized.” Silence. You looked over, then quickly back at the dark stretch of campus in front of you. “I mean maybe it’s the high talking. Or maybe I’m just sleep deprived and having a brain glitch. Whatever.” You waved it off like it wasn’t a big deal, even though it felt like one. “It’s not like I know you, know you, but…”

You trailed off. The buzz of the joint mixed with the weight of that little truth hanging out in the open air now. Nathan blinked at you and then scoffed. “Wow,” he muttered with a crooked smile. “You catch feelings off one joint and a sad boy routine?.”

You turned to glare at him. “Shut up.”

“No, really. Should I light candles next time? Bring you flowers? Write you some poetry?” His grin stretched You went to snap back but then his hand brushed against yours on the concrete. Not accidental. He didn’t look at you when he did it. He just let his fingers slide over yours, catching them loosely. His palm was warm. Steady. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at him. Just stared at the building lights across the quad and let your hand stay in his.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

You hadn’t slept. Not really. Instead, you’d just laid there, reliving every second behind the art building Nathan’s hand in yours. he was warm. so warm. his eyes were glossy. the night ended later than any of you two could gather. Blackwell always felt a little gray in the morning, but today it there might have been a little pep in your step. Cold in the air, a small little nathan shaped warmth in your chest. You stepped into the hallway and spotted him before you were even fully through the door.

Nathan. Leaning against a locker laughing at something Victoria said, though it didn’t look real. Nothing about him did anymore. You slowed for just a second. “Shit,” he muttered, loud enough to carry. “Should’ve known the freak parade would show up early.”

Victoria snorted. “God, can she not?” Her eyes flicked over your clothes like she was personally offended by the fabric. “Every day’s a fashion crime with her.”

You froze mid step. Max and Warren were behind you, chatting, not realizing what you were walking into. Your heart stung before your brain could even process what was happening. Nathan pushed off the locker, brushing past you with a smug little smile. “Hope the janitors are getting paid extra,” he sneered, “cleaning up after your desperation.”

“What the hell, Prescott?” Warren stepped in fast, hand fisting at his side.

Nathan turned back, cocky, dangerous. “Relax, boy scout. Didn’t realize you two were still sharing notes. Or maybe it’s more than that, huh?” His eyes swept to you again, slower this time, and colder. “Figures. Nobody else would.”

ok pause. because what the fuck happened. Like yes he was an ass. the whole school knew that. Though considering the amount of time he was crawling into your messages, where the hell did this come from?

“Keep walking,” Max said lowly, stepping up beside you.

Max didn’t press. She never did. That was the nice thing about her. Since starting the school year, you both bonded on being new. well for you, relatively new and her coming back to her hometown.

Warren, though? At lunch, he was full of energy, waving you over like always. You sat down beside him and Max at your usual table under the half broken patio umbrella. He was in the middle of some rant about science fiction film logic when it happened.

“I’m just saying if a robot gains sentience, it doesn’t automatically mean it wants to kill us. That’s lazy writing ”

From across the quad, a loud snort cut him off.

“Wow,” Victoria said, not even bothering to keep her voice down. “Look who’s still wearing last season’s clearance rack.”

You blinked, confused, until you realized she was looking directly at you. Taylor giggled beside her, but it was Nathan who made your stomach drop. He pointed toward once at your table and leaned over to whisper something to Victoria. Then, loud enough for everyone near to hear “She should’ve stayed invisible. Worked better for her.”

Max stiffened beside you. “Jesus. What is their problem today?”

Warren stood up, indignant. “Hey. Why don’t you back off, Prescott?”

Nathan didn’t even look at him. His eyes were on you and they weren’t blank. They were cold. Icy. “Relax,” he said, tone bored. “Just making an observation.”

“You want me to make one too?” Warren snapped. “Like how you’re always hiding behind Victoria’s designer knockoffs?”

Victoria gasped like she’d been slapped. “Excuse me?”

Max grabbed Warren’s arm. “Not worth it,” she said quietly. You sat disguted. Nathan’s stare found you again. And just before he turned away, he said it not loud, but loud enough. “Better keep your pets on a leash.”

Then he walked off. Victoria followed, heels snapping against the pavement. The rest of the Vortex Club trailed behind them like spoiled royalty. You didn’t finish your lunch. You barely tasted anything after that. Max rubbed your shoulder gently, concern in her eyes. “You okay?”

You nodded. You lied. Because all you could hear was his voice, cold and clean and cutting a thousand miles from the one you’d heard whispering into the phone at 1 A.M. Like none of it had happened. Like you hadn’t happened.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

His eyes met yours, and for the first time all day, he was actually looking at you in the eyes. “Hey,” he said, voice soft.

You didn’t say it back.Instead, you stepped past him and into the room like it was a business meeting. Camera bag down. Laptop open. The wall between you and him went up brick by brick with every breath. “Let’s just get this done,” you said.

He didn’t argue. Just shut the door behind you quietly. You sat at his desk, the screen glow lighting your face. He hovered nearby, watching you scroll through edits like he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Or maybe like he didn’t know how to say anything at all. “I fixed the lighting on the last three shots,” you said flatly. “Yours were a little overexposed.”

He nodded. “Yeah. You’re better at that stuff anyway.”

You didn’t respond. Just kept clicking. He moved to sit on the edge of his bed, quiet for a while before asking, “Did you still wanna use that photo by the fountain?”

“I already did.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, glanced at you, then away. “You, uh… didn’t answer my text this morning.”

You didn’t look at him. “Didn’t think it needed a reply.”

Nathan nodded, jaw tight. “Right.”

Back to silence. He didn’t bring up what happened. Didn’t ask how you were. And you didn’t bring it up either not how he’d ignored you all day, not how the only time he seemed to be kind was when it was dark out and nobody else could see. Not how you were starting to wonder if this was all he had to give. Just this. Only at night. Only when no one else was looking. You highlighted a paragraph of text and rewrote it. He leaned closer, trying to peek at the screen.

“You’re really good at this,” he said quietly.

You flinched. Not visibly but inside, your bones rattled. It felt like a visceral reaction. You kept your voice neutral. “We’re almost done.”

He didn’t say anything else. You sat there together for another half hour, finishing edits. His bed creaked once when he shifted. You didn’t look. Eventually, you saved the file and stood up.

“That’s everything,” you said. “I’ll print it in the morning.”

Nathan watched you gather your things. “You don’t have to go yet,” he said, almost hesitant.

But you did. if he had just said something, you might understand. Though there isnt enough time in the world to be chasing after rich boy problems he doesnt want to address.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 📽.ᐟ

She left.

Didn’t even look back. Just walked out of the dorm like she couldn’t get out fast enough. Yeah. That felt about right. Nathan stood there like an idiot, hands in his pockets, jaw tight, listening to the door click shut. it was some kind of final answer he didn’t ask for. You don’t have to go yet. He’d said it like a damn loser. Like he didn’t spend the entire day pretending she didn’t exist. she looked at him like he was a goddamn stranger. He sat down on his bed, rubbed at his face, dragged his hands through his hair like it would help. It didn’t. It never did. Everything just kept buzzing. Loud. In his ears, in his chest, like a swarm of flies under his skin. He should’ve said something. Anything. Should’ve told her why he was being weird. Why he was quiet. Why he didn’t even look at her earlier. But how the hell do you say,

Hey, I’m scared you’ll end up in the basement of an abandoned barn if I like you too much?

He laughed. Or choked. One of the two. God, his hands were shaking again. He stood up fast, paced once, twice, kicked his desk chair just to feel something and regretted it immediately. His toe throbbed. Whatever.

He was sweating. Why was he sweating?

He pulled off the red zip up and threw it at the wall. Didn’t stick. Just slumped down like everything else. Jefferson’s voice. Crawling back in like it always did.

“She’s interesting, isn’t she?”

“Got a real… natural quality. Honest.”

“The kind of face that looks good in contrast. You see it, right?”

“She’s got potential.”

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”

It didn’t help. Jefferson’s voice was calm. Already chosen.He didn’t want that. He didn’t want her anywhere near that world.But what the hell was he supposed to do? Jefferson noticed things. once he noticed, it was over. Nathan dropped back onto the floor, breathing fast now. he’d been running. someone was pressing down on his lungs and wouldn’t stop. He clutched his shirt, pulled at the collar, trying to get air. Trying to slow his thoughts. His heart. Anything. But it wouldn’t fucking slow down.

His vision blurred a little. Pressure in his head, behind his eyes. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek just to stop himself from crying or screaming or both.

He felt like he was going to throw up. Or pass out. Or explode. or all of the above. it all might actually happen. He didn’t know what was worse, the fact that he couldn’t be normal with her… or the fact that when he was, it made him want to protect her more than anything. That protection came with a cost. A choice. A name on a folder.

She didn’t know any of it. And she couldn’t.

until there was a knock at the door.

Nathan didn’t hear it the first time. Not really. Not over the ringing in his ears, or the ragged, frantic way he was trying to breathe. His back hit the wall. He didn’t remember moving. His hands were white knuckled fists against his chest like maybe that would keep it from splitting open.

Another knock.

He blinked. Everything was too bright and too dark at the same time. His name was a whisper behind the door “Nathan?”

Her voice. It hit him like ice water. He squeezed his eyes shut harder, digging his nails into his palms. Not now. Not like this. He couldn’t let her see him like

The door creaked open.

She stepped in fast, muttering under her breath, “God, of course I forgot my charger, that’s just whatever, not like it even ”

She stopped. Frozen. Nathan was on the floor. Slumped against the side of his bed, drenched in sweat, fists clenched so tight they shook. His chest heaved, erratic. Panicked. His face was pale, eyes red rimmed, wide and glassy. All that anger she’d brought with her white hot and ready to crack across the room halted like someone slammed the brakes. Her words died in her throat.

“…Nathan?”

He still didn’t look at her. Just gasped, breath catching hard in his throat, jaw clenched like he was trying not to cry. Or scream. Or both.

Her fingers curled around the charger in her hand. For a second, she stayed rooted to the floor, her heart pounding in her ears. Part of her screamed to turn around and walk away. He deserved that. After everything. Nathan barely registered when she moved closer. He couldn’t even look at her. Just pressed his fists against his temples like that would keep everything from collapsing.

She hovered there for a second, jaw tight, arms crossed. “You’re an asshole,” she muttered. Quiet. Bitter.

He looked like he couldn’t breathe. Cursing under her breath, she dropped the charger on his desk and stepped closer. Her knees hit the carpet slowly, hesitantly, right in front of him. She crouched down between his legs, biting her lip, watching him like he was whipped animal. She didn’t say anything right away. Just reached out, unsure, and carefully took his shaking hand.

Nathan flinched. Then his eyes finally lifted, just a little. Glassy. Bloodshot. Like he didn’t recognize her at first. But he didn’t pull away.

“Jesus…” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. “Nathan, you’re what the hell is going on with you?”

Still no answer. His fingers twitched in hers, breath still coming fast and shallow, but her hand grounded him. Little by little. Beat by beat. She wanted to yell. She really did. Wanted to scream at him for ignoring her. For looking through her like she didn’t matter. For pushing her away with no reason, no explanation, no damn warning.

Nathan’s breath hitched. His fingers twitched under hers, unsure, but desperate for the anchor. He gripped her hand like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the floor.

“Breathe,” she said, voice flat but steady. “In. Out.”

He tried. God, he tried.

“Again.”

His lungs caught on the exhale, but he followed her voice. One breath. Then another. Her thumb moved gently across his knuckles. She didn’t look at him. He didn’t look at her. They just sat there. Angry. Shaking. Breathing.

“I’m still mad at you,” she said quietly. Just the truth.

All she could do was sit there. Mad. Hurt. Holding onto his hand like it was the only way to keep him from falling apart.

“I’m still pissed at you,” she murmured, after a long, long silence. “But I’m not gonna leave you like this.”

Nathan blinked hard. A tear slipped down his cheek before he could stop it. He looked away.

And still, she didn’t let go.

[aloysiavirgata]

Title: Nine Crimes

Author: Aloysia Virgata

Rating: Explicit

Category: MSR

Timeline: Pilot

Summary: For the anon prompt “Pilot Sex”

Notes: Thanks to @slippinmickeys for the feedback

***

It's the wrong time

She's pulling me through

It's a small crime

And I got no excuse

Damien Rice, 9 Crimes

***

A shabby motel, shabbier than the one that went up in flames. It’s made of concrete and third mortgage paperwork and the abandoned dreams of a better life.

Mulder paid the hundred bucks in quiet cash, the same way he’d bought them new clothes and toiletries at WalMart. Let Dr. Scully think he’d get reimbursed. Let Dr. Scully take her little notes.

***

His new partner looks frayed around the edges, even with her square shoulders and her Stanford pedigree. She’s filled with potential, but incomplete and unsure of her place in the world, even rewriting Einstein. Even with her serious brown-washed hair and her serious oversized suits and her serious Thom McAn heels, she’s green as it gets. He knows about the freckles under her drugstore foundation, that she’s a second daughter. A third child.

He knows about Jack Willis. He knows about Daniel Waterston.

He knows she has a body like Collier’s Godiva.

“An orangutan,” she’d said, prim. Laughed openly at his ideas even though he’s still something of a legend at the Academy.

Mulder has a type and Dana Scully’s nowhere near it, but damn if he doesn’t like her mettle.

***

It’s two by the village clock, storming again, branches scraping against the windows. He’s awake and restless and what was going on in the woods, what was-

A knock at the door. He says “Scully” as he opens it without even checking. Pajama pants and nothing else but he opens it without checking.

She’s in his room all at once, lush as a Frederic Leighton painting even in tacky WalMart sleepwear.

The cheap hollow-paneled door slams behind her and she says “Mulder, I-“

Scully blinks.

“I’m sorry. I knew you were awake, I knew somehow, but do you want to get dressed or-”

“Turnabout is fair play.”

She blushes hot at that, but doesn’t leave.

Mulder slouches against the wall, arms crossed. “So. What’s up, buttercup?”

Scully looks around for a chair, but there’s only the sagging full sized bed. Is there a chair in her room? Should they move there? He decides not to ask. He likes her on his turf.

“Can I sit?”

He gestures at the bed. “Mi dump es tu dump. However, I must remind you, this goes against the Bureau's policy of male and female agents consorting in the same motel room while on assignment.”

Scully looks mortified, then realizes he’s joking. She perches on the edge of the bed, hands splayed across her narrow thighs. She isn’t wearing a bra.

“Is it always like this?” Scully asks, looking up at him. “Is this my life now? Stolen corpses and hotel fires?”

Mulder sighs. He crosses the small room to sit next to her. He can feel the heat of her red-gold body against his bare skin. Outside, the rattle of hail.

“That’s the fun part. I mean, it’s not always like any one thing. It’s stolen corpses and hotel fires until it’s missing children and government facilities and…” he trails off, weary.

“Little green men?” Scully asks, with perfect innocence.

Mulder looks at her fully for a moment, then laughs. He’s not unaware of his own mythos, and full marks to little Dr. Scully for clearly not being intimidated by it.

“Yeah,” he says. “That would be an example. Hey, they still saying I caught Monty Props with a ouija board?”

She tilts her head. “I’ve heard ouija board, I’ve heard Bigfoot.”

Mulder can’t help himself. “What else? Since you’re a spy.”

A smirk. “Agent Mulder, are you asking me to gossip?”

“Shamelessly.”

She smiles wide then, eyes crinkled at the corners and brightly blue as St. Elmo’s Fire, the perfect eyes for a sailor’s daughter.

“Well. Reckless of course. Brilliant. Problems with authority. Crazy, despite your assertions otherwise.”

“Boring. What’s the good stuff?”

A little shy now, her eyes dropping. “Obsessive. Paranoid. Self destructive.”

“All fair.”

“Womanizer.” Something in her eyes when she says it, a little heavy.

Mulder’s surprised she owned up to that one. Wants to know which particular women she’s heard about but decides to leave it alone for now. “Intriguing. And am I living up to expectations, broadly speaking?”

“Well, you’re obviously crazy.”

He chuckles. “Obviously. Paranoid?”

“Jury’s still out, but the fire is in your favor.”

“Womanizer?” he asks, a little purr in it, because she’s in a playful mood and because he’d like to hear her squirm out of it.

She just scoffs. “After I showed up in my underwear and then lounged chastely, unseduced? Alas, Mulder. I’m going to have a lot to debunk.”

“I’d hate to-”

Lightning so bright it feels audible, simultaneous thunder that shakes the building. The room goes black.

Scully yelps and he feels static between them; the strike must have been just feet away from the building.

He reaches for her and she’s covered in gooseflesh. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Jesus, I just…that was close.” Bit breathless.

Lightning again and a roar of thunder. Hail.

The dark is so complete it has a weight to it. “You want me to help you back to your room? You're two doors down, right?”

Silence.

“Scully, are you-“

“Can I stay?” she asks, just above a whisper. “Because of the storm, I just…”

Lightning. Thunder.

His hand cupped protectively - unconsciously- at the back of her neck and he says, “Of course.”

A tree just outside is struck, and for a fraction of a heartbeat he sees her white face, her big eyes, and-

Knew about Jack, Daniel, and still never expected her to make the first move. But she swivels under his palm, turns up to kiss him in the dark and he doesn’t protest.

Her mouth is hot and firm, tongue shifting wet sand at high tide. Scully’s thighs straddled over his suddenly, Scully’s tight ass in his hands under that pink polyester. God she’s little, she’s-

They cannot see in the felty dark, but he feels her pull that awful top off and her breasts are against his bare chest as she grinds herself against him.

Hail, wind, rain. Mulder bites at her tongue and she sighs.

He’s rock hard, fumbling at her nipples, her throat, her drawstring. Heat between her thighs, even with them both half-dressed. He breathes in the hot saltwater scent of her cunt.

Mulder wants to fuck her with his mouth, wants to suck her like boardwalk taffy in July until she’s melted and pliant but this isn’t that kind of night.

Lighting, thunder. Storm moving away.

Dr. Scully’s sharp claws at his back, Dr, Scully’s knees bruising his ribs.

The dark, the dark….

He raises his hips from the awful bed, scrapes his pants down his ass, his thighs. Cock painful as a fresh bruise.

She reaches down and it’s okay because they cannot see one another, okay because the hail and the winds swallow the noises they’re making.

His new partner, this is so fucked up even for him, but there isn’t any light so he groans again when she rubs herself against his cock.

“Mulder,” she hisses, nimble fingers wrapped around his shaft. “God.”

The storm a mile off now and his partner rises up so he can pull her bottoms off. Rises, her hard thighs and her impossible waist and her raspberry nipple in his mouth.

She wriggles free from her own pajamas, legs smooth and muscular and tight against him. The heady scent of her makes him twitch. Jack, Daniel.

Ethan.

He knows, too, about Ethan.

Drenched, in the bottomless night of the storm. Hot wet anonymous curls because there is no light and Agent Dr. Scully is gone and it’s just this lithe body against his and he bites her nipples hard again; left then right and she moans. Arches.

Lightning farther now and what the hell, he pushes two fingers between her thighs and into the sweet, melting nexus of her body. Dripping, slick, frictionless, his partner, this is so fucked up, this is -

She cries out, Agent Scully, with her good hard belly against his and her nipple in his mouth and her intoxicating scent soaking into his fingers.

The storm now five miles off.

“Please,” she begs. Her voice is cinnamon and silk.

He pushes his wet fingers into her mouth to silence her and thank god it’s dark still. She sucks at him without evident shame. His balls tighten.

“Possibly a womanizer,” Mulder mumbles into her fragrant neck. Working his other hand into the melting hot depths of her. “But clean. However, I don’t have a condom.”

“Pill,” she mumbles, clit rolling against his knuckle. “Please.”

Thank her forgiving god.

Graceless, groaning, Mulder pushes his cock into her waiting body. He cannot see her face but he can imagine it; those cheekbones and her blown-rose mouth. She is tight and searing and soaked and -

Scully makes a low noise, starts riding him like a dressage pony. Fucks him. Begs to no one particular and fucks him with her kidskin body.

The storm at six miles.

Scully, crying out. She arcs her back and he can only imagine her breasts now, swollen and rosy and sweet and so sensitive and -

“Mulder, Christ. Please…”

Mulder lets go. His sister and Ray and Peggy and Billy forgotten and he thrusts into her, into the black hole at the center of the Milky Way and the unknown and the nothingness. He comes into her with a fierce desperation and Scully sucks his earlobes and his mouth and his throat and she drenches him in her hot slip.

Low, flickering light. A distant rumble.

Nine miles.

They fuck again, urgent and silent, at the gray light of four AM. He comes into her like Uranus, making the world.

She goes to her room after that, never looking back.

They do not speak of it for years.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

theorizing

It's still early in the event, but I'm already trying to think about what Hot Topic Issue this year's Halloween event might tackle (assuming it follows the precedent set by GloMasq and Playful Land). Here's the theory I present to you: the conflict will be about escapism and where to draw that divide between fantasy and reality. Why do I think that? Because there are lots of parallels between our shiny new guy on the block, Skully, and us, Twst fans.

Book 7 presents a similar idea when Lilia and Malleus discuss the life cycle of Gao-Gao Drago-kun, how short it is, and how convenient it would be if the virtual pet could live forever in a fantasy world. In the same book, Yuu has finally found a potential route home... meaning an end to their story and their time in their current world. Read another way, it can be said that we, the Twst fans/players, are like Malleus, not wanting anything about our lives in Twisted Wonderland to change. We want to stay here among these characters we have come to love and grow close to, not return to our boring mundane lives in our original worlds... in reality. Likewise, similar points of comparison can be drawn between these themes and Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas, even as early as part 1.

Now in this allegory, Skully represents us, the average Twst fans. Here's the parallels I noted:

Skully is notably a first year, which matches up with the grade level that Yuu (the player self-insert/POV character) is assigned to

Skully attends a school where his peers don’t understand him or his interests. This mimics the experience of some Twst fans, who may be misunderstood even within the anime fandom. How many times have people joked “Oh, you like the Disney dating sim?”/assumed that Twst is cringe? Can you talk to fans of traditional Disney about Twst? Twst may be somewhat niche in your immediate area. Chances are, you have to retreat to online avenues to find like-minded fans. In this way, Twst fans may feel isolated or not understood.

He does not like to talk about school because he doesn't have many people who understand him, perhaps due to his eccentricities. Again, this may not directly translate to all Twst fans, but rather it can be very relatable to those who lack social connections and seek to fulfill that through fandom or escaping into a fantasy world.

Skully is an otaku for Halloween. And what are we, as Twst fans, if not also otaku?

He looks mysterious but has excitable reactions. The behavior reminds me of someone who can be very sociable online or in special circumstances but might come off completely differently in real life or initially due to how their face looks and how they dress.

The strongest parallel, however, is the fact that he, like Yuu (again, the player self-insert character) ALSO gets isekai'd... into the world of The Nightmare Before Christmas. And what happens in this world that Skully gets isekai'd to? He... 1) meets lots of new people--people that don't know him in the "real" world, so he is free to act however he wants around them, maybe even befriend them, 2) gets to meet his Halloween idol, Jack-sama, 3) gets to be praised by his idol, and 4) (presumably) helps out his idol with putting together this year's Halloween. THESE LINE UP ALMOST EXACTLY WITH WHAT YUU DOES WHEN THEY'RE ISEKAI'D INTO TWISTED WONDERLAND... Yuu, who represents you, THE TWST FAN. You, as a Twst fan, 1) meet and potentially befriend these new characters (and maybe even explicitly made an OC to act however you like in your place as the one meeting these characters), 2) hone in on your favorite(s), 3/4) hyperfixate on the intimate voice lines and the moments you have with your favorite(s). It's total wish fulfillment for both Skully and the average Twst fan. In other words, Skully will get lost in living the fantasy that is literally being transported into the world of his Favorite Thing Ever, just like we, the Twst fans, escape to Twisted Wonderland. In the book/Twst, you can be yourself or whoever you want to be. But what happens when that peace and comfort is about to be taken away? Perhaps that's when Skully will snap 🤔 refusing to return to his old life, where he was awkward and misunderstood... wanting to stay in this endless Halloween night forever and ever. Maybe he even tries to prevent the NRC students from leaving too, since he has now formed a friendship (?) with them? Like, he's trying to keep them trapped in this fantasy of his (very Malleus-core of him, honestly). Then it would be up to us to try and knock some sense into Skully, reminding him that there are things in the "real" world to look forward to as well.

Looking back at previous Halloweens, the conflicts presented usually tie back to something relating to the Disney counterpart's own identities. For example, Frollo (in the stage version) lost his younger brother to sin and pinned the blame on an entire group of people. Rollo lost his younger brother to sin and now seeks to eliminate that sin (magic) from the world. Honest John and Gideon worked for a shady guy and lured away children, even though they themselves were terrified of what would become of those kids. Fellow and Gidel are similarly forced to do this dirty work because they are so impoverished they need the job, even if their boss disrespects them. I think my theory about what Skully's whole conflict will be could work from this angle too. The character he is twisted from, Jack Skellington, is known to be somewhat naive and an idealist. Jack pursues Christmas with all of his undead heart, sure that it will return the "spark" that Halloween has since lost. This could be reflected in Skully, our twisted!Jack, in his desire to pursue Halloween--or, more specifically, this novel world where his passion is reinforced and he has a place in it. He would be naive to the world he snubbed in favor of this new one, deeming this new world superior (like how Jack thought the "new" Christmas would enhance the "old" Halloween).

as3gro8yvq ;ngqemf; KJLBFIsIFSLFS ANYWAY, that's my game theory 🙂 Not sure if it'll actually be this, but figured I'd throw my guess out there since my previous "lmao Skully will kidnap Crowley" crack theory ended up being shot down...

[yuma-mukami-garden-god]

how’d they react to being sent a bride that’s aroace and just wants to be friends

Ohoho—this is fantastic. You’re sending one of the most dangerous, possessive vampire boys in anime… an aromantic asexual bride who politely says:

“I’d rather just be friends, thanks.”

Shu Sakamaki

He opens one eye, yawns, and mutters,

“Great. Someone who won’t scream or cling… finally.”

Honestly? He’s relieved. You don’t demand much, you’re quiet, and he can nap with you around.

Over time, he comes to appreciate your presence more than he expected. The emotional intimacy sneaks up on him.

He won’t admit it, but if anyone else tries to hurt you? He’s feral.

Reiji Sakamaki

He’s… baffled.

“Excuse me? You were assigned to be my bride. Romance is the purpose of your existence.”

Cue a full-on existential meltdown.

However, when you calmly propose being a supportive friend, offering tea and help with his experiments, he grows intrigued.

Eventually, he develops a grudging respect—and quietly longs for more, even if you don’t.

Ayato Sakamaki

“You don’t like Ore-sama?!”

He’s offended. At first, he tries to “change your mind” with teasing and ego, but when you never fall for it? He gets pouty.

Eventually, he starts treating you like a sibling—loud, chaotic, competitive.

He may whine a lot, but you become his favorite person to eat takoyaki with.

No, he’s not blushing—shut up.

Kanato Sakamaki

“...What do you mean… ‘just friends’?”

He stares at you like you committed a crime.

Kanato’s deeply unstable, and being rejected at all triggers him.

You’ll have to tread carefully—offering him attention and consistency, without romance.

If you manage that balance, he becomes violently protective of your friendship.

Teddy gets jealous of you.

Laito Sakamaki

“Fufu~ Bitch-chan’s playing hard to get? Or are you just boring?”

At first, he’s deeply skeptical. He thinks it’s a kink.

But when he realizes you really just want a platonic connection, something shifts.

He actually opens up in rare ways—talking about his trauma, letting you see the man under the mask.

A strange, intense friendship blooms… but he never fully lets go of the idea that maybe, someday, you’ll change your mind.

Subaru Sakamaki

“H-Huh?! You don’t want to… with me?”

He’s confused, then relieved. You’re not afraid of him. You don’t want to use him.

You treat him like a person, not a monster.

Soon, you’re his safe space. He lets you into his heart without romance ever needing to be on the table.

Don’t expect cuddles, but you will get a vampire guard dog.

Ruki Mukami

“…Interesting.”

Ruki studies you like a puzzle. He thinks you’re repressing something.

But when it becomes clear that you’re genuine, he adjusts. You’re not livestock—you’re a curious anomaly.

He respects your boundaries, though he can’t help occasionally testing them with subtle flirtation.

Still, your quiet strength intrigues him deeply. You’re a friend he never saw coming.

Kou Mukami

“Ehh~? You don’t wanna be in a fairytale romance with me~?”

At first, he’s joking, teasing, even a little mocking.

But beneath that, he’s insecure. He’s used to being desired.

When you show him friendship without strings? He’s floored.

He starts protecting you like a beloved pet or younger sibling—snarky, but weirdly loyal.

You’re one of the few people he doesn’t wear a mask around.

Yuma Mukami

“Huh? You don’t wanna jump me or nothin’?”

He laughs it off and thinks you’re weird—but cool.

He respects you more for not drooling over him.

You help with the garden, hang out while he cooks, bicker like siblings. It’s great.

Anyone messes with you? He throws hands.

You’re the first person he ever trusts to just be real.

Azusa Mukami

“…You… don’t want to… cut me… or love me…?”

At first, he doesn’t understand. He associates love with pain and submission.

But your consistent kindness—without asking for anything romantic—heals something in him.

You tell him, “I just want you to be happy.”

Azusa cries. He keeps you close from then on. Very close.

“You’re… my favorite person…”

Shin Tsukinami

“Hah? That’s boring.”

He’s dismissive, cocky. You not being into him bruises his ego.

But the longer you don’t chase him, the more curious he becomes.

Why are you so calm? So unaffected by him?

He starts teasing you relentlessly—not to seduce you, but to get some reaction.

Eventually, he decides he likes having a chill, no-nonsense bestie. (Still flirts though.)

Carla Tsukinami

“You wish to defy fate?”

He’s deeply confused. To him, a bride is a political tool, a vessel.

But when you simply want to exist beside him—not love, not lust, just peace—he becomes eerily quiet.

Over time, he… accepts it. You become a rare comfort in his icy world.

He doesn’t say it, but you are his sanctuary.

No one touches you. Ever.

Kino

“Wait, seriously? You’re not gonna fall in love with me?”

He thinks it’s a joke, then a challenge.

But when you just offer to play video games and hang out? He’s like:

“…Oh. That’s… kinda nice.”

He starts genuinely enjoying your company. Still a flirt, but not creepy.

You become his Player 2—and his first honest connection.

Karlheinz

“Curious.”

He watches you like you’re an insect under a microscope.

No romantic or sexual reaction? To him? Intriguing.

He respects your autonomy, but constantly tests your resolve—philosophically, emotionally.

And when you never falter? He starts seeing you as uniquely pure.

You’re one of the few people he doesn’t seek to break.

You make him think.

Richter

“What a shame.”

He’s disappointed—you’re not another pawn for his schemes.

But when you offer to be his friend despite knowing his flaws? That hits deeper than he expected.

He tries to manipulate you, but you see through him—and stay kind anyway.

Eventually, he becomes oddly protective of you.

“Fine. Be boring. Just… stay alive.”