#i miss them so much you guys SO MUCH!! i feel sick. i want them back

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 74

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

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Friday, March 25th; 9:15 a.m. - Camp Wiegman

I arrive in the common room where a large number of students have gathered. The head teachers and some instructors, including Lucy, have been called to a big meeting. The students are saying it’s about yesterday’s scandal, as several of them, myself included, suffered from indigestion. I’ll ask Lucy if that’s true. They were smart about it; they scheduled it for 9 a.m. to make sure we couldn’t leave before noon. So, we have an hour of free time. I spot Alexia sitting on the couch, chatting with a guy I don’t know. I’m glad she’s here too. We didn’t know which class would be freed due to the meeting. I walk over to them with my friends. I wanted to use this break to catch up on the form we had to fill out for the trip. The others assured me I didn’t miss much. They were bored to death, especially Leah, who was left alone because of me. The good thing is they’re going to give me their notes to help me fill out the questionnaire. I want to show my teacher I’m capable of working. Especially since he’s developed a kind of disdain for me recently. He didn’t even check on me yesterday or say I didn’t need to turn in my work. Well, according to Alessia, the questions were simple, and she thinks I wouldn’t have had any trouble answering them if I’d gone on the trip.

"Hey," I greet Ale.

"Oh, you’re here too!" she exclaims, hugging me. "How are you feeling?"

"Still the same as this morning," I joke.

Alexia was really worried when she found out I was one of the affected students. Fortunately, I was just sick yesterday. This morning feels like yesterday never happened. Of course, I skipped the hot chocolate today. It’ll take me some time before I can drink it again, but for now, I’m sticking to orange juice.

"Can you lend me your notes, Alessia?" I ask my friend, who’s now sitting on my other side.

"Oh, forget about school for a bit! You’re with us for once!" Ale scolds me.

"Alright, alright," I laugh. "You sound just like Lucy."

"She scolds you too?" Leah teases from the couch across from us.

"Yeah," I groan, stretching. "She dragged me out all weekend to make me stop. According to her, I always find something to obsess over when I’m stressed."

"She’s not wrong. Speaking of stress, have you heard back from the galleries?"

"It’s better not to talk about frustrating things right now..." Alessia comments on my behalf.

I cross my arms, feeling a bit down. I’ve gotten a few rejections this week, which I shared with Alessia. She also loves art and is happy that I’m pursuing it. She doesn’t have the same courage as me, though, since she plans to stick with administration to secure her future. I have to admit I’m starting to feel anxious about the feedback. Maybe I’ll have to do the same as her. There’s no way I’m staying home doing nothing, though.

"Don’t worry. I heard Mapi’s coming this weekend. That’s cool; she’ll be able to cheer you up."

I raise an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, Mapi’s coming?"

"Uh... You didn’t know? I called Jenni after class. Lucy told her this morning that she’s coming."

"Lucy?!"

This news catches me off guard. How is it that she knew before me that my best friend is coming? And even if that’s the case, why didn’t she just tell me? Alexia feels bad about my reaction.

"Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise...? Crap. I probably shouldn’t have told you! Lucy’s going to kill me! Can you pretend you don’t know?"

I smile despite myself and shake my head. Maybe she’s right. I hope so, honestly.

"What are you offering for my silence?" I tease, amused.

She playfully hits my arm, and our friends laugh. It’s so easy to tease her. I laugh too, but I’m glad she’s getting along better with my girlfriend. Suddenly, I start thinking about Mapi. It’s not surprising I wasn’t informed by her; I’ve been out of the loop, buried in my studies. Maybe she did message me, and I missed it. That would be more worrying. I already feel bad just thinking about it.

"So, what are we doing? Besides catching up on boring school stuff, of course."

"Hey. Calm down, will you?"

"Nope. By the way, Alba’s meeting Jenni next weekend. She’ll probably stop by the gym."

"Really? Where is she anyway?" I ask, glancing around.

"Probably with her girlfriend somewhere. I haven’t seen her since we got let out."

I chuckle, imagining exactly where they must be. Normally, we’re not allowed to have «intimate relationship », but with the supervision lightened, now’s probably the perfect time.

"I see. So, she’s stuck in for the weekend?"

"Yeah. Misa’s staying with her. That’s why we’re doing it next weekend. She’s excited to meet her..."

"I bet. How did Jenni take it?"

"She doesn’t know yet. Don’t say anything, though. I’m planning to break it to her gently this weekend..."

I laugh heartily. I’d pay to see her face when she tells her. I think she’s going to be totally shocked. Alexia explained to me that her only fear is that her sister won’t accept her, which would strain their relationship. I understand that. The opinion of someone close to you carries a lot of weight. I’ve been a victim of that between Lucy and Mapi myself.

"And why are you introducing them at their gym? Is there no other place?"

"What’s ‘their gym'?" Leah asks.

"Oh, uh... You don’t know."

"You’re not allowed to talk about it, are you?" she teases.

We glance at each other, and I shrug. I’m not sure, actually. Lucy hasn’t mentioned anything, but I don’t think she wants the students to know it’s her last year.

"Sorry, Leah," I simply say.

She shrugs indifferently. She doesn’t seem upset, so it’s fine.

"Anyway, so?"

"Well, I figured it’d be a neutral place. Plus, she’ll see that she has ambitious plans and that she’s not irresponsible."

"Hmm, hmm," I tease.

"What? You don’t think it’s a good idea?"

"I just wonder if you’re not trying to convince yourself..." I giggle.

"A little..." she admits. "Plus, I figured you guys would be there just in case..."

"Oh no, I’m stopping you right there. Lucy’s already told me she doesn’t want to be there when it happens."

"Oh no," she pouts. "Don’t tell me that."

"I swear. I didn’t even have to ask. She brought it up herself, and I don’t think it’s negotiable. She keeps saying she doesn’t want to see any of my friends from here before the end of the year. I’m sorry..."

"What if I organize a party?" Leah suggests. "It would kill two birds with one stone since I’d like to see her outside of here."

I grimace a little. She doesn’t realize I’m going to get scolded again if I keep pushing.

"That could be fun, being all together," Alessia agrees.

"You guys are unbelievable. You really can’t wait a month and a half?"

"Tell that to Alba," Alexia retorts. "She’s the one trying so hard to bring the events closer."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

"When would this party be?" I give in.

"In three weeks," Leah tells me. "My parents will be going away for the weekend with some friends. We figured it’d be the perfect time to throw another party. Plus, it’s right before the holidays."

Alessia nods beside her, confirming what Leah just said.

"OK…" I mutter. "I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise anything. Lucy can be really stubborn when she wants to be."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!" Ale replies excitedly.

She kisses my cheek several times before letting me go. Meanwhile, I keep glancing at every door that opens, hoping Lucy will walk through. We don’t know how long the meeting will last, but I’m optimistic. I smile when I see it’s not my girlfriend, but Ingrid. I interrupt Ale and Leah’s conversation, where my roommate is asking if it’s okay for her girlfriend to come, since she’s now planning to delay the meeting between her and her sister until then.

"I’ll be right back," I say as I stand up.

Alexia watches me, confused, until she spots Ingrid.

"Oh no. Please don’t tell her you know about Mapi. I’ll get in trouble again!" 

I laugh and wave her off. Whether she likes it or not, I’m definitely going to question Ingrid, who’s probably the first to know what’s going on. I approach her, and she spots me right away, greeting me with a smile.

"What brings you here, Ona?"

"Hey, how are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"Good too. Is Lucy still in the meeting?"

"Yep. You probably won’t see her all morning. She’s got a meeting with Wiegman right after."

A lightbulb goes off in my head. Damn! I completely forgot about that! She had told me earlier in the week that she scheduled a meeting with her to resign. Ingrid laughs, clearly noticing that I just remembered.

"I’m such an idiot."

"If you say so," she teases.

I bite my lip. I wish I could’ve said something to encourage her, but now it’s too late.

"Don’t stress about it. She won’t hold it against you. She knows you’ve got a lot on your mind. And you weren’t feeling well yesterday either."

I nod. It doesn’t erase the guilt I feel, though. I’ll try to make up for it this weekend. In the meantime, I remember why I’m here in the first place.

"I heard Mapi is coming."

"Did Alexia spill the beans?"

"Was it supposed to be a surprise?"

"Oh no. Mapi’s tried texting you several times this week, but none of the messages got through. She thinks your phone’s off. Lucy wanted to tell you yesterday, but you weren’t feeling well."

I groan, realizing what’s happened. I feel really bad now. My phone must be off since I haven’t used it since Monday.

"At least you found out she’s coming before we go pick her up, so it’s not too bad."

I scowl as she clearly makes fun of me. Well, I deserve it. At least she doesn’t beat around the bush when telling me things.

"So, we’re going together to pick her up?"

"Yep. Lucy suggested we all have lunch together after we pick her up."

I nod, grateful she’s taken the initiative without needing my input. Damn, I really need to make up for all of this this weekend.

"OK… Thanks."

"No problem."

I can tell she finds this situation amusing. With an embarrassed smile, I turn back to my friends. Hopefully, once I apologize to everyone, I won’t feel as foolish. 

Friday, March 25; 12:15 PM - Camp Wiegman.

I was waiting for Lucy outside the school, like we usually do. I had already seen Ingrid’s car pass by, so I figured Lucy would be next, and sure enough, her car pulls into the parking lot. She parks in the open spot right in front of me. I have so many things to tell her, I don’t even know where to start. I put my suitcase in the trunk and join her in the front seat.

"Hey."

"Hi."

I lose my smile when I see the serious look on her face.

"Is something wrong?"

"Get in. It’s windy."

I do as she says, closing the door behind me. The bad weather has passed, and we’ve got sunshine, but a cool breeze has followed it.

"What’s going on?" I ask, seeing her stare straight ahead.

I don’t like seeing her like this. Luckily, she’s not one to beat around the bush with me.

"Wiegman knows."

My heart skips a beat at this unexpected news. Then it starts racing, and I can’t calm it down. No, this can’t be happening. Not now, not when my exams are in a month. Not after all the effort I’ve put in. Tears well up in my eyes. I blink to get rid of them, but it’s no use.

"Is it…? H-how? This is crazy!"

"Hey, hey," she says, noticing my state. "Calm down. It’s not as bad as you think."

She takes my hands and kisses them, one by one. Her calmness manages to soothe me, even though I still don’t know how things aren’t as bad as she says.

"How did she find out?"

"Your management professor… He saw me kiss you yesterday while you were still asleep. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was planning to this weekend."

"He… That jerk!" I fume. "Did you talk to him?"

"No, I didn’t get the chance. What caught me off guard was that he reported us to Wiegman before I could even do that."

"And Wiegman!? Did she believe him? Just like that? Without letting us explain ourselves?"

"Calm down, baby. No. She asked for my side of the story… I didn’t want to lie, especially when I had my resignation letter in my hand."

I must look shocked. She didn’t do that, did she?

"Stop panicking. Neither of us is getting expelled," she tells me.

"Wait—we’re not…?"

A small smile appears on her face. I remember her first expression. She must have been just as angry as I am. Now she looks like she’s teasing me. How can she? Our principal knows! Shouldn’t we be packing up and getting out of here? That’s what happened to Jenni!

"Given the circumstances, no, I’m not."

"Are you going to explain?"

She chuckles softly, still holding my hands in hers. I don’t find this funny. She dropped this bombshell on me and is now laughing about it. It’s hard to understand.

"We had a long discussion. I spent nearly two hours in her office. When she brought it up, I didn’t know what to do, but I decided to be honest, and it looks like that paid off."

"We’re really not getting expelled?"

"No. I think the fact that you’re your mother’s daughter helped a lot."

I relax, and for the first time in my life, I’m grateful to be her daughter.

"I confirmed our relationship, but I also explained all the good I’ve brought to you. I told her about how hard you’re working to pass your exam, your progress, and your future plans.

- And what did she say?

- She was hesitant at first, until I showed her the pile of exercises you gave me to correct. She realized that our relationship is serious and that it’s helping you.

- Of course! And that’s it?

- Sort of. I told her that if she has to expel someone, she should only expel me, and I handed her my resignation letter. I didn’t want her to ruin your future over this.

- But I thought...

- I’m not expelled, Ona. Let me finish.

- Sorry, I said, blushing.

She’s talking a lot without getting to the point, but I can tell my impatience is amusing her.

- She initially thought I was giving her my resignation because of this, but I told her about my plans to open a gym. Thanks to our evening classes and Ingrid’s testimony, she recognized my professionalism and honesty. She didn’t want to destroy your efforts or our future, so… she’s cutting us some slack. I’ll remain your supervisor until the end.

- So… Wiegman knows, and we’re not expelled…?

I mutter the words, struggling to comprehend them. It feels so surreal.

- It’s not without consequences. She’s going to talk to your professor to make him drop the idea. As for us, we need to stay discreet. If anyone else sees us together and reports it, she won’t be able to protect us, and both our futures will be at risk. Do you understand?

I nod, feeling completely lost. Wow. I never saw this coming. It’s insane.

- Then why did you look so serious earlier? You scared me!

- Sorry. I don’t know. Shocked and angry, I guess. I’m having a hard time processing it too. I always imagined I’d be leaving the day she found out.

- Well, that’s not happening. Isn’t this good news?

- Oh, definitely.

- I suppose I should forget the question I was going to ask you...

- What question? she asks curiously.

- Leah invited us to a party she’s throwing with everyone. Alexia wants us to come because she’s planning to introduce Jenni to Alba.

I quickly explain while playing with her fingers. I knew it would be complicated, but it’s even more so now.

- You know we’ve had this conversation before, Lucy begins, tilting my chin up.

- I know. It’s the others who pressured me...

- I know it’s complicated for you, but we need to stay discreet a little longer. After that, I promise we can shout our love for each other to anyone.

- And go out with my friends?

She rolls her eyes with a small smile. At first, I could tell this situation suited her. I mean, it must be strange for her too, hanging out with people who were once her students.

- Yes, sweetheart. We can go out with your friends. I’d do anything for you.

I kiss her tenderly at this admission. She’s a sweetheart.

- We need to go. Ingrid’s probably waiting for us, she murmurs between kisses.

I pull away and buckle up at the mention.

- Yeah, I heard Mapi’s coming this morning...

- That’s right. Ingrid told me how upset you were about it, she chuckles, placing a hand on my thigh as she starts the car. I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I completely forgot because of your condition.

- It’s my fault too. I’ve been so out of it...

- Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re allowed to work hard during the week, she unexpectedly defends me. Mapi will understand.

- Hmm...

- If it helps, I gave her updates on your behalf.

- Really? I asked, surprised.

- Well, yes. She worries when you don’t reply, so she comes to me.

- Thanks.

- You don’t have to thank me for that. She’s your best friend.

- Yes, but it’s not like you’re her biggest fan, I chuckled.

She rolls her eyes in amusement.

- True, she mutters. But you’d be surprised what we could do together for you.

I smile at the thought. I think she’s right. Even if they don’t exactly get along, they’d tolerate each other for my sake. We finally arrive at Ingrid’s place to pick her up. I offered to let her sit up front, but she insisted I stay there. Next stop: the airport. Our chat with Lucy made us late, so by the time we get there, Mapi is already waiting with her suitcase. She greets us one by one, finishing, of course, with Ingrid, whom she can’t stop kissing.

- Couldn’t resist coming, huh? I teased.

- Nope, not really. I’m taking the opportunity to bring some things over and see you both, since I heard you won’t be around for the next holidays.

- That’s true, I admit with a shy smile. Sorry about that.

Lucy pulls me into a hug when she notices how I feel. It’s a fair complaint. I didn’t handle these holidays, but I do know Lucy booked our tickets—and Jenni and Alexia’s—this week.

- It’s okay, I’m just teasing. Your girlfriend defended you enough for me to forgive you, she says, giving me a little hug.

I really need to thank Lucy for that. Usually, Mapi holds grudges much longer. Finally, we head to the restaurant. We’re all starving. Our girlfriends take us to a place I haven’t been before. Mapi seems in good spirits, chatting non-stop about her plans to move here after the school year. Her doubts are far behind her now. She hasn’t heard from her parents in a long time either. She confided that she thinks it’s time to cut ties with them for good. I can only support her in that. I’ve met them once, but they were never really around due to their work. When they did talk to their daughter, it was mostly to criticize her or try to convince her to change her mind about taking over the family business. In that kind of situation, there’s no point in staying in contact. I really admire Mapi’s courage. Even though my mom and I were estranged for a long time, I don’t know if I’d have the guts to do the same. I’m very tied to family, especially because of the promises I made to my dad. Plus, if Mapi were in my situation, I doubt her parents would have offered the help my mom gave me last year. I can blame my mom for a lot of things, but not that, and it’s why I decided to reconnect with her.

- I ran into Abby this week while grocery shopping, Mapi tells me.

- Really? I say, not looking up from the menu.

I’m thinking of getting a burger. I saw one go by, and it looked delicious. Our drinks arrive within minutes. The service seems fast, which is good because I’m starving.

- She told me about the wedding... Is that why you reacted so strongly the last time she visited?

- Not really. There were a lot of things that set me off.

- I’m not going to force you to talk about it, but I think Abby believes you don’t want to come. You should give her a call if you plan on going. That’s all she’s waiting for.

- Do you know the date? She didn’t have time to tell us, Lucy asks.

- Uh, I don’t remember exactly. I think it’s in June.

So soon? I must have shown my surprise because she gives me a sympathetic smile.

- Well, I guess you should call her today, huh? Lucy advises, rubbing my thigh to comfort me.

In just two months, my mom will marry another man. I’m struggling to process it. Everything must have been planned behind my back for months. Lucy kisses my temple, and the conversation moves on. I have trouble following. It’s like my mom was waiting for me to finish school so I could attend the wedding. It warms my heart, in a way. She’s hoping I’ll be there, despite everything that’s happened between us.

We’ll talk more about it when we get home, if you want, Lucy whispers in my ear. »

I nod and snuggle up to her on the bench we're sharing. I'm not sure if it will be necessary, but it always feels good to confide in her. Meanwhile, Mapi keeps talking about how hard she's been working lately. Looks like I'm not the only one pushing myself for this final stretch. The only difference is that she manages to juggle her two lives without anyone saying anything to her. I think I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed, too. It's not easy to catch up on everything I've missed. But I’m going to hang in there. I'm almost there.

Friday, March 25th; 10:15 PM - Ona and Lucy’s Apartment  

We’ve just come home for the first time today. I’m glad to be back in our place. The atmosphere immediately puts me at ease. We spent the day with the girls, in town, then at the gym later in the afternoon where Jenni, Alexia, and Beth were still working, preparing to receive the first pieces of furniture in two weeks. Then, it’ll finally be vacation time. I sigh as I settle next to my girlfriend on the couch.

- “Relieved to be home?”  

- “Oh yes!” I reply. “It’s good to relax too.”  

- “Definitely.”  

I sigh contentedly as my head falls onto her lap. Lucy immediately starts running her fingers through my hair. I close my eyes to enjoy the moment to the fullest.  

- “Do you want to call your mom?”  

- “Oh no,” I groan. “Not tonight. I’ll do it tomorrow, when I can take my time.”

I lay on my side, placing my hand on her thigh. It’s a pretty comfortable position. Lucy is sitting with her feet stretched out on the other side of the couch, facing the TV. She flips through the channels before settling on some random series I’m not really paying attention to.

- “Are you feeling good about going to your mom’s wedding?”  

I nod, lifting my head to look at Lucy. She’s watching me intently. She’s always so worried about me, and it’s adorable.

- “She wants us there, so we’ll be there.”  

- “Alright…”  

- “Shouldn't we be thinking about our next vacation instead?” I ask.  

- “If you want. I didn’t tell you, but… I booked a ticket to land in Lisbon.”  

- “What? How come?”  

- “Well, since we’re already going to Portugal, I thought we might as well visit the city where you grew up and where your dad is buried.”  

- “That’s amazing! Thank you so much.”  

- “It’s no big deal,” she smiles.  

- “How long will we stay? I guess you’ve already planned everything?”  

She laughs and nods.

- “We’ll arrive in Porto around the same time as Jenni and Alexia, for about a week.”  

- “You’re so sweet, always thinking of me.”  

- “I know,” she jokes. “Do you have any family we could stay with?”  

- “Of course. My grandfather.”  

- “Oh, right. The one you like so much, right?”  

- “Yes! I can’t wait for you to meet him! I’ll let him know as soon as I can. He’s going to be so happy.”  

I sit up and straddle her to show my gratitude with a big hug.

- “Thank you, really. I love you so much.”  

- “I love you too, my love.”

We kiss tenderly before I rest my head on her shoulder.

- “Are you sure your parents are going to like me?”  

She laughs, running her hand through my hair, sending shivers down my spine. It’s a fear that haunts me. I’m afraid they won’t accept me, and that Lucy might leave me because of it. When I lift my head again, she looks at me with adoration, her eyes filled with all the love she has for me.

- “I promise they will.”  

- “You seem really sure of that…”  

- “Stop worrying about it. They’re going to love you. They’re actually really excited to meet you.”  

- “Really…? You’ve already told them about me?”  

- “Of course. I’ve had plenty of chances to call them from school and talk about you. They know you exist and that we’re coming in a few weeks. They also know you were my student at school, why you were there, but most importantly, they know how much I love you.”  

- “Y-you told them everything!? Oh my God!”  

I try to pull away, but Lucy holds me back with a small laugh. There’s nothing funny about this! How could she tell her parents that I was a former junkie who ran away with my ex to ruin my life?

- “Calm down. I did it to save you from a bunch of awkward questions. I wanted to tell them myself so they’d know what to expect. Mostly, I wanted them to understand how much you mean to me and that they’d better not traumatize you. Well, at least not my dad. He’s a saint compared to my mom.”  

- “Fantastic,” I say sarcastically.  

Lucy smiles and presses her lips to mine.

- “I promise you don’t have to worry. And how about we head to bed now, huh? We’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, again.”  

- “OK…” I murmur. “Speaking of tomorrow, I made a few sketches for the walls of the rooms you guys want me to decorate.”  

- “Oh, really? I won’t ask when you found time to do that.”  

- “In my room,” I reply. “Who do you think I am? I’ve become responsible!”

I squeal as she lifts me up, turning off the TV in the process. The way she carries me to our bedroom brings back so many memories.

- “Of course, my love. We’ll take a look at them in the morning. Right now, it’s time for bed.”  

I smile, snuggling back against her shoulder. I’m not going to argue with that.

[agirlunfilteredsblog]

A GUIDE TO STAYING MOTIVATED THIS SEMESTER

Hi girls!! I have missed you guys soooo much (more than words could describe really!!!). In truth, I have been completely decimated by school work, my personal life and my new job (which I will share with you all very very soon ;)). In any case, I thought I could hop on here and share my tips on how to keep to the books even when it feels IMPOSSIBLE to do so.

1. VISUALIZE THE FUTURE YOU WANT

As women, nothing will be handed to us, ever. It is up to us to create the lives we want for ourselves, the careers we’ve dreamt of our whole lives. Remember what you want, and let that drive you to succeed.

2. ENVISION A FUTURE WHERE YOUR GOALS AREN’T SUCCESSFUL

Personally, I feel sick just imagining a future that is not the one I envision right now. It is up to you NOW to wake up and start achieving your dreams. Stop procrastinating, that will get you nowhere but the opposite of the life you’ve envisioned for yourself.

3. IMAGINE PEOPLE YOU DISLIKE DOING BETTER THAN YOU

People can say what they want to say, but there is nothing wrong with competition. It is a major drive in my every life. I cannot imagine people I dislike doing better than me at life, it is impossible. Always try to one up them, privately that is. There is no need to gloat about it, beating them should feel good enough privately.

i love you all so deeply!!! 🤍

a girl unfiltered 💋

[singersalvageart]

dirk and todd are on the case!!

[delicatetaysversion]

my best friend's MOTHER called me to scold me about being depressed and self isolating lol what has life even come to

[brainfullofbees]

.

[nereidprinc3ss]

you know the killer doesn't understand

in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.

angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3

Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)

You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all. 

So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him. 

They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back. 

Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep. 

Or so he’d like to think. 

Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately. 

Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it. 

In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him. 

He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank. 

Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

You don’t make another sound for hours. 

He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time. 

Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back. 

“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot. 

Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand. 

“Good morning. You sleep okay?”

Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway. 

“I think so. I had weird dreams.”

He hums. 

“About what?”

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak. 

“Do I have to tell you?”

That hurts. 

“No. But it might help.”

Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes. 

He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue. 

Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression. 

“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest. 

“That’s not… you’re…”

“What? What is it?”

A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way. 

“You’re not being fair.”

He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.

“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”

His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.

“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”

It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now. 

Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you. 

Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid. 

“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper. 

Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like. 

“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”

He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat. 

You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake. 

Spencer is too stunned to follow you. 

It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous. 

He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction. 

Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.

The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal. 

Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that. 

At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief. 

Penelope: She’s at my apartment

Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!

The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.

It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent. 

For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out. 

“How’d you get home?”

You swallow. 

“Penelope.”

Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away. 

“You really should have brought your phone.”

You scoff, peeling yourself from the door. 

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom. 

“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”

“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”

You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins. 

“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”

You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed. 

“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”

There’s no more room. The wall is at is back. 

“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her. 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”

At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist. 

Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion. 

On instinct, he catches your wrist.

There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—

But it doesn’t. 

He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with. 

In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt. 

“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question borne of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”

“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”

When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.

Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.  

[hoshigray]

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | satoru gojō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied that reader is a virgin - first kiss - awakening feelings - virginity loss - kissing/making out in a closet - thigh riding - grinding/humping - sex in shared rooms; college dorms (empty) - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - orgasm denial- clitoral play (sucking, pinching and swiping) - missionary position - protected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, gorgeous, pretty, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Geto, Shoko and Mei Mei - humor bc I'm [not] funny - mention of vaginal pain, spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (i'm so sick...)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yessirrrr let's get this party started, shall we? >:333 plz enjoy the first part of this series!! and tysm for 5.3k !!! y'all are too kind && happy bday to my gal, jazzy!! hope you enjoyed your special day, jazzy jam c:

❤︎ « next story

“GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!”

“BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU, Y/N L/N!”

“They’re at it again already, huh?”

“Yeah, man, it’s going to two o’clock. Might as well enjoy the show.”

College is hard enough as is. The fact that you’re now back for the spring semester is tiring enough, wanting to get these classes over with and wrap this up. Spring, Easter, and Summer break are just right around the corner, the cherry on top for this exhausting second half of your junior year. Those are the end goals!

But alas, the semester just started. The students scramble around buying their textbooks and switching courses around, struggling to make final move-in decisions and already stressing over seasonal depression at this time of year. Spring semester, huh? Same old, same old.

Although there are negatives that make it nerve-racking, there are still good things that come with this junior year. Finally over with winter break, you’re excited to be back to living with your roommates, Utahime, Mei Mei, and Shoko! They’re your girlfriends for a reason; missing hanging and stressing with them as they made your college experience much better than you expected. 

And it doesn’t end there, either! You missed study sessions at the campus café with your second-year peers, Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami. The two best friends always help with your studies whenever you need it. And, of course, you can’t forget about their roommate and your friend, Geto. The tall, raven-haired Biology major is always looking out for you and paying visits to study with Shoko. There was even a time he helped with a mouse situation in your dorm! Poor Utahime that day – saw the rodent when she came out of the shower.

However, you’re not exactly thrilled to see everyone after coming back. You throwing a middle finger at someone on the opposite side of the pathway should be evidence of such. “Oh, go jump off a cliff, Gojo!”

“Hah! I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!” Satoru Gojo was the direct roommate of Suguru Geto, best friend of his and Shoko, and was the star player of the campus basketball team. But most of all, he’s the kid you despise with every fiber of your being. “I’d be more entertained with you slipping on some ice.”

“Oh, you wish! I saw you slip on some ice yesterday on your way to Professor Yaga’s class.” You puff your chest with pride when you see the white-haired guy suck his teeth in annoyance. “Made my whole day, what a fucking moron. How about slowing down next time? You were late anyway!” 

Snowy brows furrow with a scoff. “God, you really are a perfect roommate for Utahime; the both of you are so tiny and angry at the world around you for no reason.” 

Utahime, standing beside you during this yelling competition, decides to chip in after that remark. She almost popped a vein, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY, SATORU!?” 

“You heard me!” He barks a laugh at the two of you, turning around to go on his way. “Heard it’s gonna snow later tonight. Be sure to find a nice, big, puffy jacket and some boots so the storm doesn’t sweep you away, Y/n~.”

“I’ll be sure to shove an icicle up your ass before that, you fucker!” You turn on your heel and stomp your way out of the scene, Utahime following your move. “Hmph! Hate his ass so much…”

“Tch, right there with you.” Your roommate sighs heavily to exude the aggression. “But damn, the way you two go at it is worse than mine.” 

She is not wrong; it’s true – everyone within the campus grounds knows how much you and Gojo can’t stand each other. It’s no secret; at least you two make that apparent everywhere you go. This little feud between you started freshman year with you two in the same first-year engagement program. Tiny disagreements turned into narrowed glares, which then pivoted into prominent arguments, and now here we are. 

You hoped that freshman year would be the last you’d ever see of that snow-haired prude. Unfortunately, you were wrong. The year after, you were unhappy to discover he’s best buds and roomies with Geto. And what’s worse is that you were ill-fated to share a class with him every semester — especially this one with Professor Naga for Contemporary Issues. Is this the universe’s way of punishing you for something? For what!?? 

You’ve been a good kid, doing what you can and getting the grades that brought you merit and accolades. So, you don’t get how this one guy with his stupid round sunglasses is getting under your skin. So fucking annoying…

You hate him. You hate everything about him. From the way he immediately gives you a smug look when you walk into the room and take your seat right in front of him. The way he surprises you from behind because he finds your reactions amusing. The way he relentlessly calls your name to get your attention when you’re obviously ignoring him, even when he doesn’t need you for something. 

It all makes you heated. You hate Satoru Gojo. I hate him so much!

“…hear me?…Y/n?”

You blink, realizing you were too deep in thought for your ears to pick up Utahime calling out for you. “Hmm? What’s up?”

She pulls out the keys to the dorm from her coat. “So? You coming along?”

Huh? “Where are you going?”

“To Haibara’s get-together?”

Oh, hell no! “No, Uta. I think I’ll stay here.”

The dark-haired girl watches you walk past her when she opens the door. “Why?? It’s the first Friday night of the semester; it’s not gonna be a big party or anything. Just close friends.”

“What are we talking about?” Shoko chimes in after leaving the bathroom, brushing her teeth with sleepy eyes. “Haibara’s thing tonight?”

Utahime nods hurriedly at the drowsy nursing student. “I’m trying to convince Y/n to come!”

The brunette shrugs at the comment, following you two to your room. “Well, it’s not like I’m going either.” She snickers when the eldest dark-haired roommate turns to her with a hurt expression. “Sorry. I already have notes I need to get behind on. You can tell the guys I said hi, though.” 

Another sigh leaves Utahime as she puts her bag on her desk. “…Mei Meiiiii,”

“Yesss~?” The fourth roommate calls out from the hallway. 

“Are you going?”

“Mmmm, not sure.” Mei Mei comes to the doorframe, her long silverish-blue hair done in pigtails with a green skin-care mask covering her face. “Got a meeting for my club to head to later. And even then, it might still be a while for me to join, depending on if people are hanging out afterward.” 

Now is when the Utahime whines to her hands before she turns back to you, sitting on your bed. “Y/n, please, come with me!”

You don’t give in to her cries. “No, think I’ll stay and keep Shoko company.”

But she doesn’t give up. “Please! It’s just a small group of friends and maybe a few classmates Haibara’s familiar with. No biggie!”

“Small group of friends, huh?”

“Yes!”

“You know who else are his friends?” You lift a brow when she does the same. “His roommates: Nanami, Geto, and—“

“Gojo…” Utahime completes your sentence in defeat, understanding why your reluctance is present. 

“Sorry, Uta. Maybe next time.” 

Now, you’re not saying you’ve never been to the guys’ place before; they reside on the other side of campus where senior housing is (Nanami’s pick because he’s an RA). However, it’s the first Friday night of the semester. Meaning it’s the first free weekend for most students. And you’re going to ruin everyone’s fun by being in the same place as Gojo? Yeah, no thanks.

That is until Mei Mei says, “Actually, I heard from a friend that the basketball team are planning on going out somewhere tonight.”

Shoko adds on while taking out her toothbrush to appropriately speak to her friends. “Yeah, now that you mention it, Gojo told me he probably won’t be at the place in the first place. Something about meeting up with a group for one of his classes.”

All separate reasons from different accounts, yet that only fuels Utahime to beam out of her mini-depression and face you once more. “See? Gojo won’t be there by the time we get there! He’ll be busy with a group project – or whatever – and will hang with his sports buddies. So, you up for it now?” 

Your brows trench down. “I…I don’t know—“

If there’s one thing the oldest roommate is good at, it’s not giving up. And it’s because she bats her pretty brown eyes and gives you the most grandiose pleading puppy face she can. It’s the oldest manipulation tactic in the book, yet it works by making your heart cringe.

Of all things to be dragged into now, it was a party? The semester just started, and you haven’t even touched a single piece of reading yet. Is this a good idea? You can’t really go based on the perspective of your roommates because what’ll happen on the off-chance you do see Gojo? The thought of it is already headache-inducing.

Then again, it’s the first time since last semester that you’ll be able to see the other guys. You didn’t say goodbye to Geto and Haibara before break because they were swarmed with finals, and Nanami was gone the moment he found out all his exams were take-home. You’re not much for parties, to be quite honest. Regardless, it would be nice to catch up on the gang and see how they’re doing before we all revert to non-stress-free college life.

You release a sigh through your nostrils before making your decision begrudgingly. “...Don’t make me regret this.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I regret this so fucking much…

Well, this night was going to be quite a drag. Why? Let’s go over the reasons, shall we?

The party that was supposedly at Haibara’s dorm? So, it turns out, there was a change of plans, and to be relocated somewhere else — like outside campus grounds. Screw walking, you and Utahime had to go by car with Geto to go to the party, following down the main street into this big, beautiful neighborhood and parking by a big house. Perfect for housing an event for many people to drink, dance, and vibe.

Oh yeah, that was another thing, too; the many that were attending this fucking party. Word got out about the get-together, so, of course, lots of people wanted to come and celebrate the first weekend. So, not only are you outside campus grounds, but now you’re forced to interact with a crowd rather than a small group of people. You practically have been to every corner of the place to disassociate with people you didn’t know. 

So, where are you now? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, where the bass of the speakers downstairs can be heard. You’re not alone — sitting in a circle with Utahime, Geto, and a couple of other kids who’re present at your university. What’s happening in the room? Just a chill game of truth, drink, or seven minutes in heaven; either you answer truthfully to a question, drink to avoid it, or go to the closet and do what you want with the person who spun the bottle on you.

But, there was nothing chill about the game, and the players would agree to that notion apprehensively. Because you most definitely silently dreaded every second of this entire night. Why? How about asking the person across you that you’ve been glaring at since you opened the bedroom door and saw his face?

Apparently, as word got out about the party, the college basketball team heard about it and decided to come and celebrate. Meaning the whole team is at this party. Let’s say that again: the entire basketball team – all the players – are here to enjoy the party.

The person who stood across from you sat criss-cross with long, jean-covered legs, leaning with his hands behind him, a navy blue sweatshirt, and dark round shades that cover his eyes that you know are looking dead at you. And a smug grin that patronizes you to the core.

You peer to your night, giving Utahime the nastiest look you can. And the eldest could only meekly mumble an “I’m sorry…” with twiddled thumbs.

Satoru Gojo looked at you, and you frowned right back at him. The tense atmosphere between you two was enough to suffocate the other players. Some would try to break the tension by playing the game. But even then, it was still strenuous. One girl rolled the bottle on Geto, to which he picked “truth” and answered her question: “How did you and Gojo meet?”

Even though he didn’t pick the option, he’d take a small swig of his beer. “Satoru and I have been friends since middle school — same with my other bud, Shoko. We’ve been inseparable since, and now we’re here. He can be an asshole, though, so watch out.”

A guy spun the bottle on Utahime and asked, “Were you ever interested in Gojo?” The raven-haired girl clicked her teeth and took a chug, drinking the whole thing in one sig. 

“Hmph! I’d rather drink sweat from Professor Gakunaji’s crusty beard and eyebrows!” She’d admit after a burp.

“Ahaha! That’s a sight I’d like to see,” Gojo would chuckle at her insult, prompting a few around him to laugh. “Bet you’d get more satisfaction from it than being with me anyway.” 

The senior rolls her eyes before opening another bottle. “Fucking bastard…”

Another spin to the bottle after a couple comes out of the closet all close and giggly. This time, it lands on you. Some bubbly girl who had her eyes all up on Gojo, her nipple piercings able to be seen from her crop tee, was the one who spun it. She asks you, “Y/n, could you please tell me why you hate Satoru so much?”

You couldn’t fight the twitch of your eye. Of fucking course. You’re in no mood to drink, and you barely know this girl to think of being in the closet with her. You exhale through your nostrils, “….We’re friends, to an extent.”

“To an extent?” She asked more questions with a naive tone. “But Satoru's so nice, no?”

Oh, drop it, will you? And why are you referring to him by his first name like you know him? “We’re—“

“They mean that we’re kinda friends, kinda not.” Of course, nothing can be to yourself because the white-haired nuisance went ahead and answered your question. “They’re friends with my roomies, and my friends are their roomies. So, I guess that makes us friends by association. At least that’s the only way to see it since we nearly argued our heads off freshman year.”

You scoff with narrowed eyes, “By association, huh.” 

He quirks a brow up. “Mhmm.”

Good God, the more you two throw invisible daggers at each other, the more uncomfortable people feel being in this room. Oh, but don’t worry; the night gets even worse. Three turns later, it was your turn to spin the bottle. And – sit with me here – just guess who it lands on? Bingo! Satoru Gojo.

The hushed gasps that filled the room were telling; it was bound to happen, but no one thought it would happen. The star-crossed haters spun the bottle and landed on each other. And since Gojo doesn’t drink (and he finds the questions rather lackluster), he chooses the closet. The gasps were louder that time, and your blood began to boil.

The first time it happened was uneventful; it’s what you preferred. After the door closed, you told him, “Don’t even think about touching me.” It was just pure silence for the entire seven minutes. You sat on one side of the emptied closet while Gojo was on the other. There were the occasional sniffles of your nose and his loud yawns. But other than that, you two stayed at your respective sides of the closet. Seven minutes of no words, just keeping to yourself and watching the lava lamp in your corner be your light. 

You two survived the first set of seven minutes, not a scratch on either of you, to everyone’s thankful stars. Keywords: first set. Because why wouldn’t there be more? 

When it got to Gojo’s turn, he spun the bottle and got you! So, here you are, walking into the closet again with your notorious opp. You swore to God this had to be the universe’s way of toying with you as if the start of this semester wouldn’t be a handful to deal with already. 

You’re back on your side of the closet, groaning at your hands. It’s okay, Y/n, calm down. You can sit through another seven minutes. You got this! Don’t even act like he’s there…

And so you compose yourself, watching the heated, yellow wax of the purple lava lamp prompt up to the top to cool and sink back down. Six minutes…Five…Four—

“So, let’s say, hypothetically,” your eyelids closed shut for your eyes to roll freely. “I asked for a little something-—“

“I guess I should’ve added no talking, too. Thought that was rather self-explanatory to you.” You shut him down quickly. “And I thought I said don’t even think of touching me.”

“Well, you’re not in control of my brain,” you don’t have to turn your head to know that the fucker is looking at you. “Besides, I did say hypothetically.”

This motherfucker… ”Well, then, I’d, hypothetically, break every single one of your fingers and give them to Mei Mei so she can sell them to all your fangirls.”

“Hah! Nice to know you see me of high value.” He shifts his feet around from their crisscrossed position. “Bet you’d keep one of them.”

You scoff. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself! I’m annoyed just from not looking at you; what the fuck would I need your stupid finger for.” 

“Hmmm, I can think of many, like—“

“Do not finish that sentence, Gojo.” Your tone dialed lower; a warning. He notices it, bringing his hands up defensively. 

“Jeez, lighten up, Y/n.” He says while leaning against the back wall. “With an attitude like that, no other guy or gal in that room will ever want to be in a closet with you.” 

Oh, you don’t say, fuckface! “I barely want to be in this closet with you. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here! I only came for Utahime, assuming it would be a small party…How the hell did you even get here? I thought the basketball team was going out somewhere.“ 

“Awww, you spying on me, Y/n?” Oh, you hate his fucking snicker, shoving a middle finger in his direction. “We were supposed to be at some restaurant joint, but a few of the crew flunked out on us and said they’d go to some ‘big party,’ then everyone wanted to go, and now we’re here. You know I don’t like alcohol, but I just tagged along because Suguru was here. I didn’t know about you, though.” 

You bring your hands to your face to sigh in private. “We gotta stop meeting like this…It’s like I can never escape you.”

“…Is that a bad thing?” 

You open your mouth to refute, but no words leave….Huh?

That was…..odd. Why did he ask that question like that: you couldn’t detect a remnant of childish malice he’d been throwing at you back and forth. Even when you faced him, his face was straight ahead. But when you don’t answer, his left eye goes to his peripheral to glimpse at you.

What the…Is he being genuine right now? 

You gaze at him briefly before turning away, “I….I don’t know.” He hums to your response. “….Do you think so?”

Gojo shrugs. “Can’t say so either.” You hum back, and the silence takes over once again.

Okay, now things are even more awkward. You came into this closet with irritation, yet somehow, it vanished into thin air. It was the one thing that’s been constant throughout this evening. Now that it’s gone, you can only replay the moment from a few seconds ago in your head. 

Is it a bad thing? Why would he ask that? Of course, it’s a bad thing! Has he forgotten how much hostility we have for each other? Jesus Christ….Wait, why did he say he didn’t know either? What does that even mean!!??

“You look nice.” 

You—……I’m sorry, what???

The way you snapped your head back to him, you could’ve sworn you heard your neck crack. Holy fuck, why the hell was he looking at you right now? His round glasses shine from the lava lamp, so you can’t see his eyes.

“Wh….What?” It was cold; the weather app said it would snow later tonight. Therefore, the temperatures and winds were unforgiving after sunset. So you took it upon yourself to dress warmly. It was all simple, just a white, long-sleeved halter blouse that matched your black skirt – it was the only nice thing you had outside of regular leggings. And you covered your legs with black pantyhoses but decorated with cute white knitted leg warmers. 

He repeated in a singing tune. “You look nice.”

When it came to the white-haired guy in this closet with you, there were rare moments where you felt as though you were shocked by him. This was beyond astounding, the comment continuing to ring throughout your ears.

You blinked at him before averting your eyes down to your hands, trying to distract the increase of heat on your cheeks by intertwining your fingers together. “….Thank you, Gojo.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he’d shrug again, chuckling to himself before adding on. “It’s way better than your other outfits. Baggy old sweatshirts, bags under your eyes even if you’re wearing glasses, sweatpants with stains. You look like a homeless librarian.”

Annnnnd just like that, with the drop of your quivering lip, all the warm feelings you felt for a minute evaporated in seconds. The anger returned with the twitch of a brow. “…Tch, gee, thanks. I can’t say the same for you.” 

“Oh, you know you look cute when you’re jealous~.”

You almost busted a nerve. Who the hell are you calling, cute? “As if. From the sound of it, you must be jealous of me; who told you to be looking and criticizing what I wear? Must be rough not being able to wear comfortable clothes all the time, huh?”

“Shut the hell up,” he finally snaps, and you stick your tongue out in victory.

“No, I’ll keep going! I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, but not everyone wants to put on their best outfits to impress you, not like your fangirls who get their best bras to push up their breasts for you to notice.”

“Huh, you lookin’ at other girls' boobies? Wow, Y/n, never took you as a pervert.” He laughs at your stare of pure anger. “You are jealous, huh? That I’m talking at other girls and not you? Awww, don’t be so selfish; there’s plenty of me to go around!” 

You snarl at him. “Ugh, you’re so gross! I don’t want anything to deal with you. So all those girls can have you and rip you to shreds for all I care. Let them know how much of a big fucking baby the wonderful, amazing Satoru Gojo is when he drops his ice cream on the floor and cries on Geto’s shoulders. Or that you’re such a lightweight that you accidentally vomited in Nanami’s cup one time, which he threw at you...Or maybe I should tell them.”

His brows furrow, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would, and then some.” You sneer. “In fact, I’ll go downstairs, grab that red punch, and spill it right on you in front of that girl next to you. I’ll make your hair look like strawberry shaved ice.” 

He leans his cheek against his fist with a huff. “I take it back; you don’t look nice at all. So uncute.”

You gasped with trenched brows. “Excuse me!?”

“You heard me, you’re uncute!” Yup, today was the day: you’re going to choke the hell out of this motherfucker. “I feel bad for any guy who'd wound up in this closet with you, dealing with such a little devil.” 

“You’re one to talk, dickhead! I’d much rather be stuck in this closet with anyone else — even Geto!”

“Taah, as if! I bet you never even had your first kiss with such an attitude like that.”

Again, you open your mouth to say something, yet words evade you at that very moment. And Gojo catches it quickly. Because his brows raise, lifting his head back up, eyes scanning your face. 

Oh fuck.

“...”

Don’t.

“….Y/n,”

Don’t say it.

“You never had your first ki—“

BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!

He couldn’t finish that sentence, thank God, because the phone alarm from the outside rang. Seven minutes are up — this session is up, so you quickly stood up and opened the closet door. 

With swift feet, you sit back next to Utahime, your eyes downcast to the bottle, avoiding Gojo’s feet coming around and taking his spot across from you. Your roommate perks at your silence, “You okay, Y/n?”

A nod is offered to her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” No, you weren’t. Your heart was pounding like crazy, your skin dropping in color. And you can feel the eyeballs from across boring into your being. “Let’s just keep playing.”

And so the game carried on from Gojo’s turn. Your eyes could only ever look at the bottle, hoping it would never land on you from there on out. But that would be the easy way out, and – as life is – nothing goes your way when you want it to be.

Because when it gets to your turn, you watch with patient eyes as the glass spins on the cold hardwood floor. One spin goes by, and another swings around. Finally, it stops, the neck of the bottle pointing vertically from you, and your whole figure washes in apprehension with the hushed sounds of exclamation of the other people in the room. 

Alas, the bottle pointed to Gojo. It was inevitable – you couldn’t avoid his presence since the last session anymore. You look at him, your brows scrunched with mercy. But he points to the closet with his chin, and you follow his lead to the small space with anxiousness at every step. 

Back to your respective stations in the closet. You can only use the mesmerizing wax of the lava lamp as a sort of comfort – a distraction for your nerves that are at an all-time high. Why were you so nervous? All he did was ask if you ever had your first kiss taken.

Yeah, that’s the problem! Why did he have to know that!? Ughhhh, I should’ve just lied or something…Now what? Will he make fun of me for not having my first kiss taken yet? What is this, middle school!?? The thoughts in your head were a battle to deal with, one personal worry after another.

But all that washes away when the silver-haired guy finally breaks the quiet after a minute. “…Wanna kiss me?”

It felt like your heart dropped at that abrupt question; the warm circulation coursing through your body transitioned to an ice-cold sensation. Your breathing stops, and your eyes shoot wide at the person you’re with. “….Wha….What did you say?”

He doesn’t hesitate at your request. “Wanna kiss?”

Have….Have you lost—“your mind!? Why would you ask me that??” You whisper yelled at him so the people outside don’t hear you.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Why not?”

Why not?!? “Gojo, you can’t be serious. Just because I never had my first kiss doesn’t mean I need it to happen this instant! Are you that much of a horndog that you’d ask—“

“Let me explain, alright!?” He yells in whispers back with a hand raised to stop your rambling, and you hold your tongue. “Listen, I’m not asking to be a dick, okay? I just thought that…ya know, being in a place full of strangers, someone’s bound to be in this closet with you and ask you for a kiss.”

Your face screws to a magnificent expression of confusion you could ever contour. “Why are you concerned about who I kiss? It’s not like I’d agree or—“

“Yeah, but like, what if they did, huh?” His sky-blue eyes peek from above his sunglasses. The sharpness they carried told you he was serious about this — like he was serious about you. That…That was so off of him. “What if some weirdo forces themselves on you, and me and Suguru can’t help you in time, huh? I can think of two guys in this room who’d probably do that.” 

It takes a few seconds for you to soak in his words, “….So? What are you getting at?” He opens his mouth but stops from saying something, his pointer finger up but back to a fist. You could tell; whatever he was thinking had him in mental turbulence.

He releases a deep sigh before saying, “I’m just…I’m saying, wouldn’t it be better to have your first kiss with someone you know, at least?”

You couldn’t believe he was saying such things to you. “And…you think you’re the one I should….kiss?”

“….I don’t hear a no.” 

You wanted to refute that statement — challenge him or prove him wrong! You looked at his face, examining every feature to find an indication that whatever he was saying was just a way to get under your skin. He loves to poke fun at you, so why wouldn’t he use this as a perfect opportunity?

However, you couldn’t find anything. His eyes were sincere, stationed right back on yours. You saw his Adam’s apple move from a gulp, letting you know that he was a little nervous, too. And your gaze drifted to his mouth, the thought of his lips being on yours staining your brain for the first time. It was scary to think about, your heart racing to no end. 

“Y/n,” he said your name so quietly that you almost missed it. “Do you trust me?”

What an odd question to ask in this awkward atmosphere. Do you trust Satoru Gojo, the boy you would smack with a given chance? He’s undoubtedly the most annoying person you’ve ever bumped into — a thorn in your side since freshman year. He is such a tactless fool, doing and saying whatever he thinks comes to mind, picking on you like you were a child, and not taking you seriously when you wanted him to. You could list many things that you saw wrong with this guy.

Yet, he wasn’t the worst. There hasn’t been an instance where you felt uncomfortable around him, only annoyance. He was friends with Geto and Shoko; that alone should be enough to tell you he’s someone worth depending on. And even when you two would be tasked to do something together, you’d surely click your tongue and bicker until the cows came home. But at the end of the day, you still knew how to work with one another and get the job done.

In all things considered, Satoru Gojo was an irritant. Even so, he was an irritant you could depend on — to trust. 

Breathing was a hard thing to do, taking in air and exhaling excruciatingly slow. You chew on your bottom lip and give him a curt nod. “I…I trust you, Gojo.”

He lets your answer sink in for a bit before he moves his position, his back to the wall while facing you, legs straight down to the ground. He pats on a thigh, “C’mere.”

Hesitance was there for a split second, but you followed his command and quietly maneuvered your way toward his direction, situating on top of his legs. Of course, you were anxious as hell; your ears and cheeks shared a warmth unbearable to host. Your figure being so close to his, you had to be dreaming. 

But you weren’t. The hands he placed on your waist prove so, earning a gasp to leave you. His voice is low for just the two of you to hear. “Put your hands on my shoulders…Ya scared?” A slow nod is what you give him, and he chuckles lightly. “It’s okay. Try closing your eyes for me. Relax, I’m not gonna do anything dumb.”

He only said that because of that look you gave him. He is going to do something to you — just nothing too rash. 

“Trust me, pretty.”

Pretty? Yes, he just called you pretty. You were used to him calling you dumb names to get you riled up, yet none nearly sweet and fitting the mood like this one. It made your heart skip a beat.

With that, you held back reluctance when closing your eyelids. It made you a little uneasy, unable to see him in front of you, what he was doing, what he looked like while having you on him like this.

Suddenly, you squeak when something softly presses down to your clavicle. It was his lips. 

He snickers, “Ya know, I gotta admit.” He brings his mouth up your neck with kisses, your breath shaking with every peck, and your hands clinging onto his sweatshirt. “It’s kinda nice seeing you be all shy on top of me like this.”

“Go..jo...” you flinch at his soft kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbing your sides.

“Don’t do that. Call me by my first name.” You can feel him bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I know you know it. I wanna hear it with your voice.”

Holy fuck, this got intense way too fast. He brings his nose close to yours, and you shiver at the contact. It only means he’s mere centimeters away. Thank God your eyes were closed now because you swear you’d turn to stone if you snuck a peek.

“S..Sa…Toru—Mmmph!?“

And there it was, the inexorable. Gojo’s lips fleshed with yours softly, nothing too explicit or unpleasant for you. It was a simple kiss, yet it felt so foreign to you. Your first kiss had been with Satoru Gojo. What a momentous day.

It lasted a few seconds, your body stiff and hands balled to fists nonetheless. He removes from you with a soft noise between your lips, the heat from his face taken with him now that you have space to breathe. You open your eyes for him.

“There ya go,” he says with a small smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb while his forefinger plays with your earlobe. “Was it so bad?”You huffed, shaking your head no. Gojo hums, the hand on your waist gripping your flesh faintly. “….Can I kiss you again?”

Your breath hitched. It was a tiny request. One more wouldn’t hurt, right? You nod, closing your eyes again and awaiting his move.

Gojo leans in and claims your lips again, a soft hum from him when his face is back on yours. The next one was a little more risqué than the last, your bottom lip being taken by his playfully. The third kiss was where the mood dialed to a more wanton plane, him nibbling on your lip to allow him access. It’s here that Gojo can’t contain the reins, removing his glasses, “Come here, cutie.”

And you can’t help yourself either, succumbing to these smooches while wrapping your arms around his neck. Gojo’s no better, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and his other sneaking down to your butt.

You break the kiss to inquire, “Hahhh—…you pervert,” your eyes half-lidded. 

He puffs a laugh, “Whaaat? I thought you’d like me to be touchy.”

You don’t admit anything to him, just slamming your face to his again. You decided to be a little adventurous and lick his lips. Gojo senses the initiative and takes your tongue to suck on. The whimper you let out was too cute, egging him on to suck and tease the muscle more. 

It makes you dwell in the moment more, your limbs no longer stiff, yet your hips subtly move voluntarily. The friction from your groin rubbing on his jean-covered thigh was strangely enticing, your restraint becoming lesser the more you moved. And it gets worse after both Gojo’s hands creep into your skirt and tease your ass with squeezes.

“Ahhh, mmmm, Satoru..” you wailed. 

“Relax, baby,” there it goes again, another cute pet name to call you. He really knew how to get you going. “Let me take care of you….Mmmm”

He shoves his tongue into your mouth – not too forceful to scare you, but enough to get that he is impatient. You moan to his mouth, a hand grabbing tuffs of his snowy hair. 

His nose is pressed to your cheek like yours, and it’s getting harder to breathe now that things are getting intimate. But it all felt good, and the mood was just right. You rub your chasm onto his leg, which he lifts just a bit to make grazing your groin a little better. And God, the way his hands groped your butt, it turned you on even more. 

Ohh fuck, tongues swirl around each other, your head begins to pound, and your ears ring from the heat on your face.. Oh, God, you could feel a hand come up to the top of your stocking, teasing its way down your skin and to the hem of your underwear. Please, please—

BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!

Even so, everything freezes in time, and both you and Gojo stop whatever you’re doing. Lips still on lips, your ass on his lap, and his middle and forefinger barely grazing the crack of your ass. It’s here that everything hits you all at once: you are not the only one here — you’re not even in your room! You’re still at the party you were dragged into, in some stranger’s bedroom closet, smooching with your supposed most hated person. 

You immediately withdraw from him, Gojo removing his hands from you to put up defensively. Your hands rush to cover your lips, which are wet from spit. A thousand thoughts run around your head. Holy shit, what the hell was I doing!? Did I really just kiss Gojo? Satoru Gojo!? What was I thinking!!?

And Gojo didn’t say anything, only gauging your reaction to see what goes from here. The light from the lava lamp behind you is sheltered, your silhouette drawn to cover the guy in front of you. 

I need to leave. That’s your final thought, taking an immediate stand and storming out of the closet. Utahime noticed you make a beeline to the door, and the roommate pursues right behind you down the stairs. She moves past drunk dudes to grab your wrist, “Y/n! What’s wrong – are you okay?”

It’s time to lie. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, you know.” You lead her to the broom closet where all the initial guests’ jackets were stored. You grab for yours and put it on, “I think I’m just gonna call an Uber and head back to campus before the snowfall.” 

Her face contorts to an expression of worry. “Are you sure? I’ll come with you; this place bugs any—“

“No, no. You don’t have to worry, Uta.” You place a hand on her shoulder before she can move another step. 

“When you say it like that, I can’t help but worry.”

Your lips twinge to a smile to display faux comfort. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to ruin your fun for me. Besides, I saw some underclassmen waiting to speak with you all night somewhere down here.”

Utahime doesn’t buy it, and you knew she doesn’t. But thankfully, she doesn’t try to fight with you and gives you the okay. She watches you open the door before leaving, “Make sure you call or text me when you get to our dorm!”

It made you laugh; the girl can be such an older sister. “Don’t worry, Shoko’s still there, remember? Cya later, have fun!”

“Bye, be careful!” A final warning to you before the roommate closes the door for you.

You spoke too soon. Now outside, snow was already falling to the ground, probably a few minutes earlier since it wasn’t sticking to the ground yet. The little cold flakes touching the skin of your face were almost remedial, evening out the warmth of your cheeks.

You use this moment to recuperate from what transpired in that house. It was so out of the ordinary and was completely weirding you out, but not in a terrible way. It was more like odd-ish, strange, downright out of the norm. The more you think about it, visiting back to the senses of your hands in his hair, his slender fingers teasing the flesh of your butt, and the pillowy sensation of his lips glued to yours while whispering sweet things…..

….Nope, the cold was not helping at all. There goes the warmness creeping back on your cheeks and ears. Let me hurry and get the fuck out of here, grabbing for your phone and unlocking it to find the Uber app.

“Y/n!”

But before your thumb could press on the application, you instinctively turned around to see the door was open again. And the person who called out to you had your breath come to a complete stop.

Gojo closed the door behind him, coming down the driveway while hurriedly putting on his grey Chesterfield coat. “Fuuuuuck, it got cold quick!”

“G–Gojo!” You stuttered when out by the time he could make it to you. “What’s up? What are you—“

“I saw you weren’t in the bedroom, and Suguru told me you headed downstairs. You could’ve told me you were leaving; that fox with bangs was giving me an earful,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets and then curses. “Fuck, I should’ve checked for my gloves before I left….Anyway, where are you heading off to?” 

You were a little taken aback. “Uhhh, back to the dorms?”

“Great!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks with you down the road. “My car’s over there; let’s hurry before we freeze to death.”

Huh? “Hurry where??”

“Huh? We’re going back to campus, no?”

We!? “Together!?”

“Yeah?”

“Gojo, please!” You promptly removed yourself away from Gojo, standing in front of him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being all nice now?”

He shrugged “Ehhhh? Are friends not supposed to give friends rides back home?”

“No, not us! We aren’t friends; we’re friends to an extent, remember!?”

“Ahhh, stop being a baby. You act as if you’ve never been in my car before.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, but not when I’m alone with you, dummy! “C’mon, it’s gonna get colder with this snow.”

“Okay, just—Stop!” Your hands go up to prevent him from getting any closer to you. He stops, the fallen flakes camouflaging with his hair. “Gojo….you understand what just happened back there, right?”

He doesn’t say anything, only a single nod. 

“So, you know that my mind is going at like a hundred miles per hour right now.”

“….Yeah.”

“Okay….So, just please…I need a minute.” Your face goes to your feet to divert your thoughts elsewhere because you don’t know if you could handle looking at the white-haired man for a mere second.

Gojo looks at you mumble to yourself, avoiding him. He releases a deep sigh, walking towards you and lifting a side of his coat to shield you two from the windows of the house party. “…You’re doing it again.”

His shoes come to your direct line of sight, your heart pounding even more. “…Doing what?”

“The thing where you push people out whenever you feel overwhelmed.” You flinch when his finger grazes the back of your palm. “Don’t do that, not right now. I want you to talk to me.”

What is there to talk about? You could’ve said that to throw him off — be avoidant to this whole conversation. But it’s futile after he brings your chin up to face him. 

“Did I make you uncomfortable back there?”

“….No.” 

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I….I don’t know.” Honestly, you did not know. Your mind had too much to go through; so many memories and phrases from moments ago hit you all at once. You’re fighting the urge to tremble — not from the cold, but from overstimulation of brain power and senses.

His eyes are still fixed on you, noting you chewing on your lip. “Come with me.” The sudden revelation quirked your eyebrows up. “Whatever’s going on with you is obviously because of me. So, I’d feel like a dick if I just let you leave because of me. Plus, there’s no way you’re getting an Uber from here. Shit is like $20, I checked.”

“Gojo, I—“ he silences you with a kiss on your forehead. The feel of his lips on your skin again almost made you shut down.

“Sorry,” he whispered while placing his forehead on yours. You never really noticed how tall he was until he did that, your heart skipping again. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Picture it: you are out in the cold with Gojo, snow falling down silently onto your figures, him bringing his coat up to shield you from the world. If you were naive enough, you’d mistake this as a scene from a fairy tale. And how he was looking at you, too; his sunglasses were back on, but you could make out the blue orbs that lingered on yours. It’s as if he didn’t want to look at anything else. Just you and only you. 

You don’t know where the hell this side of confidence came from, but you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks and bring him in for another kiss. Cold lips instantaneously warm up at each other’s contact, Gojo leaning into your touch more. 

Snow continues to fall and stick, and the music from the house can still be heard from the outside. Yet it doesn’t bother you because it all drowns out in this moment you feel with him. Whatever these feelings you are experiencing are something new — scary, but new. And for some reason, it felt right to have them for him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A sheet of white cascades over the university grasses, students’ cars topped with sprinkles of snowflakes, and the lampposts emit a glow that fits the dark, cloudy weather. 

You were back on campus but not in your dorm where you told Utahime you’d be. You did text her when you arrived, so she doesn’t have to worry too much for you. In turn, she texted back that something had come up and is going to another event with Haibara and some other friends. She said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning; it sounds like she’s having a good time. 

The same thing goes for Geto, only that the raven-haired boy called Gojo to say he’d be home in the morning because he was getting “private” with someone he met at the party. “Will be back in the morning. Don’t cause a fire alarm like last time, you dork." 

Haibara is supposedly with your roommate, meaning he won’t be back until the morning, either. The only person left to account for would be Nanami, who is currently away for the weekend because he had to visit home to grab last-minute things from break. 

That leaves only you inside their apartment – in Gojo’s room on top of his bed with your top and bra down on the carpeted floor, along with Gojo’s sweatshirt and jeans. His bed is like any other twin bed for college dorms, a little impossible to move around for two people and limited positions. Nonetheless, to start things off slow, you lie comfortably on his bed with your head to his pillow as he crawls above you and works from above.

Gojo is straddled on top of you, kissing your lips and sucking on your tongue, evoking the prettiest wails he’s ever heard. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders while his are busy roaming your body.

The kiss is broken when you gasp at the contact of his pinkie grazing a nipple on your breast. “Ahhnn, Satoru, don’t touch…Mmmph!”

“Hmmm, what, gorgeous?” He places his lips from your chin down to your neck, sucking on your skin and leaving ticklish nibbles. “Don’t touch what?”

“M–My ni—Ohhoo!” He gives the hardened bud a tweeze, and your cry results from the sudden action. 

He chuckles, “So cute.” Kisses travel down from your collarbone, your breasts, and finally, your other unattended nipple. A whimper leaves your lips at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling around the sensitive nob, and you shriek when he takes it into his mouth. The frequent grazes of his teeth and the tongue pushing your nipple to the roof of his mouth — it all felt surreal.

Yet, it wasn’t as surreal as the next thing he was about to do. Sucking on your tit was the perfect distraction for him to sneak a hand down into your pantyhose, sinking it to the lower regions of your underwear. You gasp at the feeling of a digit pressing on the wet spot of your underwear.

“W–Mmmph…’toru, wait…” you pat him on his shoulder to get his attention, yet he doesn’t lift from your breast yet. “Don’t—Stop, it’s embarrassing—Khhmm!“ Shivers shoot up your spine after Gojo uses his middle and forefinger to go in between your panty-covered folds. Your wetness sticks onto him the more he rubs. 

Gojo lets go of your nipple with one last suck, the cool air chilling the wet bud. “Awww, is my lil’ princess shy?” You could only answer in pants and puffs, his blue eyes surveying your entire body laid out for him. “Heh, shit, you look so good...Hmm? Hey, you got a tear down here.”

“Huh?” You follow his eyes down to your tights, bringing your attention to a worn-down incision where Gojo’s hand is between the material and your underwear. It must’ve been from when I was grinding on him earlier today…

The snow-haired boy removes his hand from inside your tights and uses both to make the rip bigger. Your eyes shot wide, “Wha—What are you doing?”

“Making it easier to see your pussy.” He continues to tear a hole big enough for the damp spot of your pussy to be prevalent. 

Your face dials up in warmth at the vulgar word. “You could’ve just taken them off, you idiot…”

“Pssh, that’s no fun. Besides,” Gojo uses a thumb to remove the panty barrier to reveal what he’s wanted to see the moment you crawled up on his bed. Your bare cunt, wet substance glistening the pretty folds of your labia. He bites his lip. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty thing you’ve been hiding from me.”

Your hands rush to cover up your vagina, “D-Don’t say such embarrassing things, Gojo!”

“Hey, hey, let me see it,” his hands are used to pull yours aside, your slit throbbing from his gaze without your control. “And what did I say about calling me by my last name?”

It was a force of habit, dummy. “...Just be gentle, okay, Satoru?”

He beams a smile at you, the dimples on his cheek prevalent with his childish manner. “I will, princess! Now, what’s goin’ on here…” 

He ditches his head down to your chasm, giving the inviting genitalia a slow lick up to your clitoris. You bucked your hips in shock, jerking at the sudden intrusion of his tongue situating between your slit. He uses his hands to keep your legs still while he sucks and teases your vagina.

You grab for his hair, “—Khhaa!! Ohhh, ohhfuckkk, Satoru, no—Ohhh!!” Your eyes screw shut, mouth open to let your cries fly out. 

It only pushes Gojo to keep going, his tongue ravaging your folds as if he’s going to lick you clean. And when he sucks on clit? Holy fuck, you could’ve sworn your soul left your body right there and then.

“Satoruuu!! Ohhhshit, ohhhh…Mmmph,” the noises that come from the commotion below of Gojo’s tongue lapping and slurping your essence were so pornographic to the ears as if they’d melt on the spot. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum, I think I’m gonna…Nnmmph!”

Gojo hears you; that’s why he removes his mouth from your clit before you can experience your orgasm. You throw an unsatisfied whine at him, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face. “Sorry, cutie. But I wanna have a feel for you first.” He straightens his posture and spreads your legs for him. You follow his hands that land at the hem of his boxer briefs, where a tent protrudes until his erection is sprung out with one fell swoop.

The erect limb you gawked at was definitely something you weren’t mentally prepared enough to see. Your eyes take in every single detail you can: from his pink tip, where precum exudes from the urethra down to the underside of his cock, to the long body curved slightly to the left. A whole living a breathing dick — and it’s Gojo’s dick, of all things. It was oddly pretty, you had to admit. 

“Ya ready?” You snap back to reality when Gojo calls out to you as he scoots forward to you after putting the condom on, the cockhead aligning with your labia. You hold your breath at the proximity, “Listen to me, Y/n. Since this is your first time, I need you to take deep breaths and try to relax for me. Think you can do that for me?” You sigh through your nostrils, but you nod. “Heh, good. Now stay still, and let me know if it hurts, okay, princess?”

He lightly pushes his glans to your labia, swirling it around to warm you up before kissing the entrance of your vagina. He begins to propel into you, and you begin to brace yourself for the pain that accompanies his insertion. You grab the pillowcase, your teeth clinging to your bottom lip as tears well up. But you remind yourself to breathe, drawing out as much of an exhale for Gojo to shove the tip in.

And when it does get in, you release the loudest gasp you’ve ever expressed that night! Your body froze stiffly as Gojo plunged more of his length into you; the curve scraping your side caused such an exhilarating spike in your nerves that your walls immediately began clenching around him. 

Oh fuck, It’s coming, I’m gon— “Ahhhh!”

And just like that, your orgasm that was avoided before came back in seconds., the walls of your slit fluttering on Gojo’s cock like crazy, electric shocks climbing up to your head and pulling you in for a haze.

The sudden contraction of you makes Gojo hiss, “—Fuuuck, you’re gripping me like crazy…! Damn, you feel so fucking good…” He continues to push himself onto you until the base rises your southern lips and grinds his pelvis, which only fuels your screams even more with the overstimulation. “—Khhh! D-Damn…did you cum, baby?”

You can’t even form a proper sentence, your lower half feeling too full to speak, and your figure trembling from the crescendo. 

Your expression has Gojo bend down to laugh. “Never had that happened before. Heh, glad I could make you cum for the first time. Congrats, pretty…” Pillowy lips claim yours again, taking your whines and whimpers as he roughly grinds his hips to you.

Gojo begins moving his hips at a slow pace, letting you adjust to his size and shape. However, the peak has made your entire lower body dial-up in sensitivity, your back arching to him every time your clit is barely touched. Tears have long fallen since he successfully entered inside you.

Jesus, the fucking curve of his shaft was so fucking dangerous! Not only was the feeling of his veins coming to and fro with your inner walls had you twitching, but the way the tip of his cock was scratching and poking every spot that had you humming was so unfair. Especially now, when he changes the rhythm to a faster cadence, you’re bound to come again! 

“Ohooo, ahahhh, Sa-‘toru…! Ughhh, Jesus, it feels so….Hooohhh!!” Your words slurred in between kisses, almost choking on your tongue with the slap of his balls hitting your taint. 

“Yeah, baby…—Ohhh, shit, shit, shiiiit…!” You feel so good to Gojo; he can’t help but slam onto you with all his might. Your nails were causing eclipses on the skin of his shoulders. He didn’t mind; he knew it was because you were feeling good, too. “Hnngh…How’re you feelin’, Y/n? Hmm?”

“—Eeshh!! I–I…don’t know…” Your brain was too mushy to think adequately, too distracted by what was between your legs.

But Gojo wasn’t buying that mess. “Ohoho, I think you do know, sweetie.” The tall silver-haired boy creeps a hand down to your clit to give it a pinch. You scream, your legs wrapping around his hips involuntarily. “How’re you feeling?”

“—Fuuuhucck!! It feels good,” There, you finally said it. “It feels soo good…Hic–pleaseeee, make me feel good, ‘toruuuu!!”

He puts his forehead to yours before kissing it. “God, you’re so fucking, cute…” 

Gojo increases his tempo to an erratic fashion, your howls bouncing off the walls with every plunge of his dick inside you. Your gummy walls clamp onto him while his fingers swipe around your clitoris, and more tears strike down your wet cheeks. 

The familiar tingling sensation from before begins to climb up. Oh, God, it’s happening again. “Ahhooo—OhmyfuckingGooood!! I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cummm…! Aiiishh, ahhhhh!!”

And there it goes, your second crescendo hitting you like a wall. Your walls twitch around Gojo’s length again, prompting the man above you to impetuously thrust in a harsh motion, evoking more choked sobs from your puffy lips. And when he dwells into a finish of his own, you can feel his limb pulsate along with your contractions withering away.

The two of you heave and pant close to each other before Gojo slumps his body on your nude figure, allowing him to rest while he pumps his load into your stimulated cunt. The sheets beneath you stick to your sweaty skin, the air of Gojo’s huffs tickling your neck. 

When you feel your body subsided from the excitement, you two turn to each other. Noses touching each other, eyes locked into each other’s stares. 

“….So,” he’s the first to speak in a whisper. “…What does this make us?”

His eyes were so alluring to look at, like looking at the most beautiful azure gems in your adjacency. “…I’ll punch you if you say I’m your girlfriend.”

That has him chuckling in shaky breathes. “Fair enough, but it’d be dumb if we didn't talk after this.”

A curt nod in agreement, “…Is there a thing called frenemies-with-benefits?”

“Pfft, I don’t know, but why not? I wouldn’t mind.” Gojo then decides to get up and finally remove himself from you, slowly taking out his cock with the condom. The bed creaks when he leaves to remove the plastic and wrap it to discard it. “You okay?”

You ponder for a few seconds before coming to an honest answer. “I think so…My pantyhose isn’t fine, though, you fiend.” 

He flashes another smile at you, his dimples taking your heart away. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. I’ll get you another pair.”

“You better.” 

BZZZT!! BZZZT!! BZZZT!!

Before you could get off the bed, a vibration came from Gojo’s dresser top. It was his phone, the caller ID reading as “punk-boy bangy wannabe” 

You blink and give the phone to Gojo after he puts his sweatshirt back on. With raised brows, he says, “It’s Suguru?” His thumb presses the green button before bringing the device to his ear while he puts his limp dick back in his boxers. “Yo. Wassup?”

“Okay, good, you picked up. I’m getting in the elevator right now to grab something from the room real quick. Open the door for me, will ya?”

The white-haired roommate couldn’t express his shock in time because Geto ended the call before he could have the chance. He turns to you slowly, and you can tell whatever he’s going to say isn’t good based on that dumb look on his face. “Suguru's coming up…now.”

Panic spiked up as it rightfully should. You were still braless and topless, for Christ’s sake! And wearing torn tights!? Something you did not want Geto to see in the likes of his and Gojo’s room. “W–What should I do?!”

Gojp quickly scans the room for a plan, immediately pointing to a door to his right. “Hide in my closet!” He hurries to grab the door open. “Quick, grab your clothes and get in here!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake…!” You grab for everything in your direct line of sight, making a straight beeline to the closet when you’ve got everything. “Don’t forget my shoes at the front; just quickly hide them somewhere!”

“Okay, okay—“

“I’m serious, Gojo! Do not do anything stupid!”

“I heard you, jeez.” He watches you move around the closet, moving his shoes to one side while trying to hide behind one of his suits. Jesus, you looked real cute even when you were scared. “…Hey.”

You peer up at him, moving his blazer so he could see your complete face. “What?”

“Be careful not to leave your panties here ‘cause I might not give them back.”

The last thing Gojo saw within that second was one of his dress shoes thrown dead at his face. His hands come to his stinging nose and cheek, exclaiming at the pain with a loud groan. “Fucking pervert, quit playing dumb games and get my shoes!”

I take it fucking back. He slams the closet door closed. “So uncute…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[nemesyaaa]

buffalo 66' au ! old!serial killer!rafe x young!sugardoll!reader (how they met, and their first night together.)

you were red and you liked me 'cause i was blue. but you touched me and suddenly i was a lilac sky.

warnings : lmfaooo this part always killing me but here it is....rafe being 90% of the warning part and the menace he already is, kidnapping, daddy issues, urge of sexualing your own self, slight of stockholm syndrome, dubcon, smut, dark!rafe, violence, mentions of threats, r being a missing girl, age gap, size difference, choking. rafe being mean to the reader. slight of daddy kink. sick attitude. dirty talk. attention whore. just minors DNI. (why it's bigger than my grocery list actually...). please carefully pay attention to the tags !!?

author's note : it's my first time writing a dark fic so don't expect too much 🙏🏿 you can read this without watching buffalo 66.

some girls were the trailer park princess, and others the queen of the gas station.

as the girl of the gas station, you were there all day on the road of these men much older than you, who had and drove pretty vintage cars who were literally bigger than you. those rich daddies surely had more money than your poor father who was always sitting behind the desk of his shop waiting for the night.

your father never gave you any attention, not even a look, he didn't care about what you did on your summer days as long as he never saw you. so you stayed all day at your playground queendom across from the pitiful, filthy motel where you lived. because here at least the men were looking at you.

of course they were looking at you, you always gave them something to look at with your tiny dresses that showed your naked thighs, your tits pressed together in that backless top. you always dressed in that soft and milky blue shades. as the sea and the sky, you were blue.

while their wives found you sick, you could feel their stares every time you leaned down to grab the keys that they forgot to give you each time. you could feel their eyes completely charmed by the way your summer dress rode up above your ass, and your panties stuck out.

fully bent over, you could hear the groans of these old men, the way they forced their hands themselves to not touch you when you wanted nothing more than to see them give in to the young temptation that you were.

you had a power in them and you loved to see them completely crazy.

you worked as a gas pump attendant. in reality, you did it behind your father's back because it allowed you to stay in the company of these men who only had eyes for you.

you always put on a show for them, and it always worked because you were irresistible.

but there was this guy every time, a regular customer, cold and short-spoken who never spoke to you.

he had a beautiful and luxurious car and you always wondered what job he did to drive such an incredible vehicle, and to spoil you so much with all this money.

he never said thank you for your service. after all, you were paid for it. his eyes were blue as you. he could park and glare at you for hours, sitting deep in his seat, a cigarette stuck between his opened lips.

he was so much older than you, so much to the point it was indecent. when you had first seen him, you had melted like sugar.

as you were coming back from the ice cream parlor, your lips sucking that delicious vanilla ice cream, you sat on the edge of the gas station, right in front of his car, your legs completely spread, white cream melting and dripping between your thighs. he rubbed his painful boner through his boxer.

you were sick, you let him look at you with this completely perverted stare while you let chunks of ice fall into your cleavage.

his eyes were all over you, but this time it was different, because this time it was him who was thinking about you while touching himself. this time it was him who was sick about you , him who had all these furious ideas about you. he pumped himself so hard, biting his lips harshly. and you continued your depraved show, while he jerked off, his big cock shaked and leaked in his own hand, his thick and already experimented fingers moved around his length faster and faster, the sweaty and dirty sound of his balls slapping, the squeaking noises of his chair, his arched back making the chair shaking. you thought of the veins of his dick engorged of blood pulsated against his hefty strength. that was enough to make you fully wet.

you wanted nothing more than to make this old man reach for you. but the problem was, you were too young and naive to know how mad he was, and what he really wanted to do with a pretty doll like you.

you stood up when you finished your ice cream, putting your dress back on neatly, and leaned down, leaning your porcelain princess arms over his car window.

you shuddered when he spread his cum on your face without any warning, smeared the remains of vanilla ice cream over your sloppy lips gloss with lick of drool.

he pushed his big thumb against your little mouth, pushed it into an o shape, and you closed her to start licking up the drops of his cum.

but like every time he came here, he never spoke to you. you had just seen the car leave, while you still had the taste of him on your lips. it was rude.

the next day, your father sent you out to do some groceries on a sweltering hot summer day, tired of seeing you around doing nothing. what he didn’t know was that this was probably the last time he saw you. and even shoupe that you had seen earlier in the morning, and who had told you to be careful, something with a killer around.

when you were done with the grocery, you started walking through the empty parking lot.

you thought you were alone, even though there were a few empty cars.

but it was a mistake, a terrible mistake that you were going to regret.

“didn't shoupe tell you to be careful this morning, sweetheart ? because i'm pretty sure, he did. ”

you screamed when the man grabbed you by the waist, pressing your little ragdoll body against his chest much stronger. the stranger quickly covered your mouth, and bruised your pretty lips with violence without any caring, shoved down his fingers between them to the point that you almost choked with your own breath and saliva.

“ you hurt..me…! ” you tried to say with a lot of difficulty, as his firm grip crushed against your breasts.

“ not yet actually, doll. but i promise, i will if you continue to fight. so beware, or i will fucking kill you. not a threat, sweetheart. it's a promise. “ and you knew that even god couldn't save you at this time.

you tried to bite him, but your teeth barely touched his skin. his lips hovered above your ear, you could hear his deep older voice warned you.

" bite me one more time, and i will break you. i love wrestle with you little girl, but i think you will really hate the way i fight. because when daddy fight sugardoll, he kills. and tiny things like you are so easy to wreck. and you dont want to die today, right ? you're too young for that. do you got it ? nod if you got it, yes. smart baby, understand easily that she needs to listen and not fucking run away. ”

his strength was heavy. you had stopped resisting a few minutes ago, even when he put you in his car.

he started driving, with a smirk, he looked in the rearview mirror before telling you.

“ what's the matter, sugardoll ? don't want to put a show for me, anymore ? ”

he had taken you to a shitty old motel down the road, where no one would be able to pick you up here. you knew he was intelligent, you knew it because you understood that every time he came to see you, he tried to learn more about you, but not to know you no, but to know when would be the right time to kidnap you. you knew it because he had stalked you carefully.

he had tried to tie you up while you tried to struggle one last time. but he had grabbed your jaw so violently that you felt your face shiver in his hands. “one more move, and i’ll show you how dolls are really treated, how i have no fucking bother to kill a tiny thing like you. ”

“i’m not going to run away.”

"i know.” he shushed you with a sick evil smirk. “ but it's not because you don't want to, sugardoll .but more because you can't.” he said, while releasing your jaw.

“ that's the small but important difference. i kidnapped you. do you even know what it means ? "

you started to cry, tears running down your cheeks.

“ you want a real reason to cry? fine. i can do that for you. i kidnapped you but you want to know the big part of all this? is that no one will come for you. your father doesn't love you , and that's why you work in this stupid gas station. you love the attention of these men so bad that you feel obliged to sexualize yourself to feel desired but me, i wanted you the first time i saw you. i let you do it, i let you play with them, but now it's all over. since i own you, this game is fucking over. ”

“shoupe will come after me ! ”

“but maybe you won’t be around to see it anymore.” he looked at you, and shushed your tears, while staring in your wet eyes. “ yes, i really like when you give me those tears, cry to me, little girl i'm the only men that really got you. ”

you glared at him as if he had fallen from the sky.

“ but now you have to be careful, don’t get on my nerves. i know it's hard for you, but don't do stupid things. ”

he placed your hand on his lower back, where you had felt the metallic coldness of the gun. and you shivered.

"yes, you got it. don't ever get on my nerves.”

“ how can i get on your nerves ? you don't really seems like a bad guy. more like a sweet guy ? ”

“ i'm not. and i'm not trying to be so watch your mouth. “

“ but i really think you are. can i hug you ? ”

“ try it, doll, literally try it. just try to touch me, i dare you. and i bet you will never tell me i'm the sweetest guy again. ”

“ can you at least bathe me ? ” you asked seriously.

“ jesus, do you think i'm your slave or whatever ? do you forget which position you are in ? in the captive one. so do not ask me those stupid things again. and don't try, no, never try to run away because, i can promise you that when i will find you, it will not be a pleasant time for you. and not even a little, but to the point, you will ask me to kill you. and i will be in a mood to accept your request ? yes, me. ”

you nodded as the kind and little girl you are who cannot argue against this tall man. he released your small face, and you were bathing alone. while you were taking your bath, alone in the tub, you heard rafe on the phone without being able to understand what he was saying but after that call, he left the room.

you had decided to buy some food with the little money you had at the food and drink vending machine.

with a happy smile, you went back up, hoping to please him. but you had found him on the chair in front of the TV.

“look, what…”

“i think you’re really nice. but not at your own good, sugar. ”

“ i just wan…”

“ get on the bed, now. ”

he couldn't help but relaxing when he saw how your blue dress was so tiny, already showing your soaked underwear.

" no whining. " he said as he shoved himself deeply in your tight abused cunt, your ragdoll body pressed down in the mattress, his thick stronger arms hugged your small waist, while thrusting harder and harder, your walls clenched around his fat cock. you can felt the size growing bigger in your wettering pussy, as he turned you into a real crybaby, tears flowing down your cheeks. you were caged by his beefy and muscular body on the bed, gasped on the edge. “ you wanted to act like a big girl ? then take it like a big girl. no fucking whining, i'm just giving you what you want. ”

he was literally buried inside you, snapping your hips, moving in and out. the atmosphere was hot, you felt the heat, there were trails of saliva around your mouth. “stop whining babydoll, daddy is not at his worse actually. and you don't want to see this happen.” you wanted to hate him but it was like you appreciated him being so mean to you, your pussy was dripping, your fluids drenching him, your sticky walls surrounded his girth. " yes, that's it. pull up some juices for daddy, make it easier for him to destroy you. "

everytime you runned away from him, he lifted your head with a grunt, and with a wild thrust inside of you, making you drip even more as his glistening tip reached your spot, the dirty and wetness sound of his moves echoed in the room, your body trapped against his taller one.

with a hand on your throat, you were arched to the point where he could see your wetted eyes rolled up. "try to run away again, and you will have the fucking pleasure to be a momma, as well as a missing girl. i'm not asking you to take my cock better.” he said with a threat. “ no, i'm telling you to do it as your fucking job. ”

all teary, you could bet that rafe didn't know how big he was for telling you this. you were trying your best actually. he was rutting in you, holding your tiny size with one big hand, getting so feral everytime he saw your small body twitching when he pushed himself further. your moans were loud, as your squirted more than one time on him, your dripping walls clamped his hard cock. even when your third orgasm flowed against your bulging pussy, creating a mess at the surface, he continued.

" you know sugardoll, you better work faster for my cum, because i will only stop when i will see how creampie your pussy is for my dick.”

he stuffed your puffy messy cunt, while your pumped his fingers who slidded deep down in your throat, your warm and bullied tongue fighting to not dropped them.

you slobbed more with the overstimulation. you felt like this man was insatiable. rafe loved to see you, his sugardoll in pain, taking so much for him.

when he finally stopped teasing you, and fighting himself to not cum, and clearly toying you, he exploded, making you cried out. all your body was filled with spasms.

you expected something from rafe when he pulled out, a little soft spot, or at least, just one look but he just went to the bathroom. alone.

you expected him to be sweet for you, like the sugar you were for him. and you knew, that you will work for this later.

when he came back, you looked at him, always attracted by his charisma, the way he made you felt so tiny by his big size, the way he was old enough to make you feel like a little girl, just the way his raised voice made you feel so small.

“ can i sleep with you ? ”

“ whatever. just don't touch me. ”

“ you're not gonna be my big spoon ? “

“ what the fuck is this ? i'm not gonna be your spoon. jesus, can you just sleep and not ask for any stupid things that you think i will do because you're already so obsessed with me ? and give me your hands. ”

he tied them up on the bed with your little blue ribbon.

“ just in case you think you can escape me. ”

“ i can't sleep like that ! ”

“ i fear it's not my fucking problem, sugardoll.”

“ fine. i will talk and talk all night. ”

“ i can fuck you all the night too. but one of us will not survive this. so stop being so damn annoying. ”

“ what if i want to pee in the middle of the night ? ”

“ you're strong enough to hold it. and you fucking better be strong enough to hold it. ”

“ why are you so mean to me ? why you kidnapped me ? ”

“ sugardoll, listen to me. look at me, yes. eyes on daddy right now. i swear, and you need to listen carefully because i will tell you once, just once, so your dumby brain need to pay attention, if you're talking another time, even if i see your lips moving, just a twitch, i will put my dick right in your mouth, making you suck it for without a break until the sun rises again. and i can promise you that after, you will never talk to me because you will never be able to open that mouth again. do you got it ? nod your head if you got it, doll.”

and you nodded.

as a doll, you were conditionned to listen to your owner, even if he was so mean to you. but you were as soft as sugar, always melted around, already thinking he was the best guy around.

“ sweet dreams, sugardoll. ”

i promise one day i will write something very good, just give me a chance. i think the only sweet thing in this work, it's rafe calling r " sugardoll ", he's so mean please 😭😭 i think i make him a little too dark to the point, i'm questionning about how he can be sweet to the reader now ????? but i guess, it's part of the game. tysm @bunnyrafe and @fae-of-prey me a lot !

[vivwritesfics]

Hi!! Can you please do one where y/n has been feeling really sick but doesn’t tell lando about it bc he’s been stressed at work and stuff. She ends up kind of being antisocial and rotting in bed bc of her sickness and lando ends up suggesting a break since she doesn’t seem to suit his lifestyle anymore. Y/n ends up running into landos mom at the dr office for a checkup where she finds out she’s pregnant. She asks Cisca to keep it a secret but she ofc tells lando she saw y/n at the dr office. Ending however you want! Thank youuuu

changed slightly buuuuut i like it

Warnings: hospitals, vivi knowing nothing about hospitals

She was sick of everything. Not because she was literally sick of everything, but she was feeling hot and bothered, generally shitty, and her head fucking killed.

Everybody was pissing her off. Her co-workers, her boss. That random guy on the bus that was breathing just a little bit too loud. He noticed her glaring, but went right back to breathing just as loudly.

The minute she got into the apartment, she sagged. She checked the keys on the hook, except no keys were there. It was a little bit of a relief that her boyfriend wasn't home at that minute; there was no telling her close she would have been to snapping at him.

She crawled under the bedsheets, never to emerge again...

Except no because Lando wasn't going to let her rot in bed. When he got home that night, she explained it to him, explained that he was feeling so shitty. Immediately he'd gotten her pain killers, water, and toast.

After four days of her just rotting in their bed, Lando was sick of it. Well, not sick of it, but he was worried. Incredibly worried.

He sat by her bedside and brushed her hair away from her forehead. "I'm begging you to go to the hospital baby," he said and squeezed her hand. "Please."

She stared at him, looking positively grumpy. "I'm fine, Lan," she assured him as she sat up. "I'm gonna go into work tomorrow, I promise."

He released a sigh, but he trusted her. If she said she was fine, then she's fine.

"Keep me updated when I'm racing, please," he said and she agreed.

And she did go into work the next day, but she felt so fucking shitty. She had no choice but to go to the hospital.

Fucking hospitals, she hated them. Sitting there anxiously as she waited to be called into the doctors office. Her knee bounced and she kept her arms wrapped around her midsection, staring down at the floor.

But then she was called into the doctors office. Her steps were quicks as she rushed forward.

"Well, miss L/N," he said as he looked at the results from her bloodwork. "Congratulations, mom!" He pushed the results towards her.

With shaking hands, she picked up the paper and looked at it. Her information, stuff that was too much for her brain to read, and then the results. Yep, she was pregnant. "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No. No, no, no."

Tears sprung to her eyes as she put the paper back onto the doctors desk. "I-I need to call my mother in law."

No, she couldn't call Lando. Not while he was racing, not while he was on the other side of the world. It would just worry him while he couldn't get to her. So, instead, she called her future mother in law.

Cisca Norris arrived at the hospital as soon as she could. She found her in the waiting room, where she had been stopping herself from freaking out. But her nails were digging into her palms, leaving little crescent shapes in her skin. "Oh, darling," Cisca said as she pulled her to her feet.

As soon as they got outside, she was in tears, barely able to keep herself standing. But Cisca got her into the car and calmed her down. She talked her through it, got her to the point where she was no longer crying.

"I think you should tell Lando," Cisca said, and she immediately shook her head.

"No, Cisca, I can't! I can't, I can't, I can't." It took everything in her to not break down into tears.

But Cisca just squeezed her hands. "You can do this." She waited for a confirming nod before she called Lando.

His voice came loud and clear through the car. "Hey mum," he said, seemingly without a care in the world.

She sucked in a breath. "Lan?" She squeezed.

"Baby?" He couldn't hide the concern in his voice.

Her entire body shook as she squeezed her eye shut. "Lando, you're gonna be a dad."

She was so quiet, it wasn't clear whether Lando had heard it or not. The slight pause he took didn't help. But then, "Holy shit! I'm gonna be a fucking dad! Let's go!"

[adragonprinceswhore]

Soft & Hard

Aemond Targaryen x Ex Girlfriend

Summary: How do you forget about Aemond Targaryen when he’s everywhere you look?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, emotional infidelity, descriptions of self-hatred, situationship, intoxication, smut, heavy petting, drunk sex, P in V, (some) size kink

Word Count: 4000

A/N: This has been plaguing my mind for weeks now, so I really needed to get it out of me and into the world. This can be read as a continuation of my Hockey player Aemond drabble, but can also be read as a standalone. Aemond is a hockey player in this modern AU! 🩵

You prop your feet up to rest on the sides of your bathtub, angling the shower head just right so it hits that spot that sends pleasurable shivers rippling through your body.

Your eyes are closed, and you’re desperately trying to visualise the hot guy from the TV series you’d just binged; mind racing through any arousing scenario you can come up with.

It’s not an easy task; keeping yourself occupied enough to not drift towards the very man you’ve vainly tried to erase from your memory. 

You don’t want to think about him. 

Thinking about him always leads to missing him. 

It leads to longing for him. 

No matter how badly he hurt you. No matter how much you rationalise your reasons for leaving, your stupid heart yearns to fill the hole he’s left behind. 

Pathetic.

You shut your eyes with more force, thinking of the hot TV character. Upping the pressure of the shower head, you imagine it’s him going down on you that’s causing the pleasure building inside. Your hips begin to shallowly sway back and forth, and low whimpering moans slip from your lips. 

As the pleasure builds and builds, the image in your head morphs; the hot TV guys’ hair turns silver, no matter how hard you try to stay focused. 

You’re close, so close, and just as you’re on the edge of pleasure, you hear him,

“You’re so pretty like this”

And you cum so hard you drop the showerhead in your grip, legs shaking as your hips jerk upward aggressively. 

Water sprays across the bathroom as the shower head falls, but you’re too lost in your own bliss to truly care, giving yourself a moment to just disappear into the fleeting, fierce pleasure consuming you. 

After a while, when your legs have stopped shaking and your cunt has stopped clenching around nothing, you turn the rampant shower head off with a sigh. 

The satisfaction of your orgasm is short-lived, promptly followed by the lonely reality of you chasing pleasure alone in your bathroom. You could stay in the tub and make yourself cum 10 more times and it wouldn’t change the loneliness residing inside of you. 

You could try to picture that hot guy from the show fucking you for hours, still you’d feel the same. 

Still, visions of him would cloud your mind. And the chill of loneliness would penetrate your bones, as it does right now. 

Because no one kisses your forehead afterwards, or holds you tight, or whispers sweet things into your ear. 

You're alone, and the warm water quietly splashing around you doesn’t stop the cold porcelain of your bathtub from chilling your heated flesh. 

You shiver. 

Sick of yourself; of your self-pity and hatred, you leave the tub and throw on a dressing gown, already on a search for a new distraction. 

Anything to take your mind off Aemond Targaryen. 

Forgetting Aemond was nearly impossible. 

Not only did your mind remind you of your heart’s longing for the man that broke it. The world did as well. Like when you overheard your colleagues discussing his latest game, and how skillfully he tackled his opponents, landing a blow on them so precise yet hard that they flew into the rink. Or when you got home after a long day and turned on the TV, greeted by him giving a post-match interview all sweaty and panting. 

The only way you knew him. 

Being restricted to seeing the man you’d spent countless nights together with through the TV screen has brought you to the conclusion that ultimately, your relationship hasn’t changed much. 

Sure, you don’t send him nudes anymore. Nor does he fuck you into the mattress of whichever hotel room he brings you to. 

But the distance is the same. The loneliness isn’t new; it always existed between the two of you. He never really cared to let you in. 

You were convenient. 

Pliable. 

An easy fuck. 

You should’ve realised it sooner. Like that time when Alicent Hightower, Westerosi socialite and Aemond’s mother, stopped by one of his practices. You were helping him lace his skates when she appeared, and as soon as he noticed his mum approaching, Aemond’s large hand gently but firmly pushed you away. 

Ms. Hightower’s curious gaze had asked about you, and her son huffed out, “She’s an acquaintance”

An acquaintance. 

Not even a friend. 

To you, Aemond was the first thing you thought about in the morning, and the last thing you thought about before going to sleep. 

To him, you were an acquaintance. 

Pathetic. 

That should have been the last straw. But you kept seeing him. Not even the humiliation and hurt you felt as you excused yourself and ran to the bathroom with tears in your eyes could stop you from craving him. That was the power he had over you.

The power he still has over you, even in his absence. Even if you blocked his number 6 months ago and haven’t seen him once since. 

The actual last straw was a message you’d gotten from an unknown number, asking if you’d send more of those “hot slutpics in dat black thong”. For a second you thought it was Aemond having a laugh, but the message didn’t sound like him, and he isn’t exactly known for being a guy that appreciates humour, or ‘pranks’.

Turns out, the number belonged to Aegon Targaryen, Aemond’s older brother and notorious fuckboy. Word around King’s Landing was that every girl who’d slept with him had gotten chlamydia, and still he seems to find a new conquest to throw his arms around each weekend. 

Perhaps the sleaziest guy in the Seven Kingdoms.

Turns out, it runs in the family. 

You blocked Aemond’s number that night. After swearing to never let your desire for him get the best of you again, you begged your friends to take you out and get you so shitfaced the humiliation Aemond had inflicted on you would be washed away. 

It didn’t work.

You’re still tainted by his touch. 

So you switch tactics. You look for someone else. 

About a month after you’d called things off with Aemond, you thought you’d found a good replacement. A nice, inconspicuous guy who was eager to please; eager to make you like him. You would’ve felt guilty, really, if the dark hole of lonely self-hatred in your chest didn’t outweigh your selfishness. 

And still, Aemond Targaryen was everywhere. 

You’d find him in that adoring look your new partner gave you as you sucked him off in the shower. You’d find him in bed, when you couldn’t sleep and imagined it was Aemond’s heavy arms holding you tight. You’d find him in your fantasies, seemingly incapable of coming with your new partner unless you closed your eyes and pretended the short, curly strands greeting your hand between your legs were actually long, silky and silver. 

Ultimately, your conscience caught up with you, and you broke things off with the new guy as well. He had told you that he loved you, and the sweetest of confessions felt like the sharpest of needles prickling your heart. 

Aemond never said it. 

Oh, how you wish it was him saying it. 

Sometimes, even after six months of not seeing him, you’re still surprised by how incredibly piteous he’s rendered you. 

Yearning for a man who only saw you as a plaything. Who only ever cared for you when you were conveniently there for him to do as he pleased with. Who refused to expose your relationship to his mother, and shared your nudes with his brother. 

Fucking prick. 

Today’s Friday. 

Single and lonelier than ever, you beg your friends to go out dancing with you. It’s become your new weekend ritual; go out and dance until your feet hurt and you’re so tired you collapse on your bed, mind delightfully empty. 

Now, you're back on the dancefloor, drink in hand, eyes closed as you sway to the music. 

You always drag your friends to the same place, The Three Towers, a nightclub of the slightly more exclusive kind, with proper DJs and strong drinks. 

They must’ve figured out by now that it was Aemond who introduced you to this place. You see it in the pitiful looks they give you every time you insist on coming here instead of going to any of the many other places in Oldtown. Their eyes say what you’ve known to be true for over six months;

Pathetic. 

It’s not like Aemond likes to go out anyway. He hates crowds, dislikes strangers, loathes the fake people gathering around him to tell him empty words of adoration. 

But that one time you’d wanted to go dancing, he’d brought you here. 

Maybe he brings all his “acquaintances” here. 

You tell yourself that you don’t come here for him, that it just happens to be a great place, but still, every time you catch a glimpse of something silvery in the corner of your eye, dread punches you in the gut. 

Why do you seek him out when you know actually meeting him would destroy you? What if you saw him here with another girl? Maybe one of the models his brother so often gifts his infected cock to? 

Tumultuous thoughts swirl in your mind until you notice that the flash of silver isn’t Aemond’s hair at all, and ease settles over you. Well, something akin to ease. The self-hatred is still there,

Pathetic. 

Your feet quickly carry you to the bar, eager for more of the numbness only alcohol provides. You order another G&T and almost spit it out after the first sip; it’s basically all gin.

Good.

You take three large gulps and move back to the dancefloor, searching for your friends who you’ve lost in the crowd of intertwined bodies. 

You scan your surroundings, and then it happens again. A flash of silver. Only this time, it’s him. 

You remember the first time you saw him. TV appearances and watching him on the ice doesn’t do him justice. In person, his ethereal beauty’s blinding. Just like it is now. One of the spotlights over the sofa he sits on hits his hair, causing it to glow like the beacon of a dark night at sea. 

Calling you in. 

Your feet work by themselves as they walk towards him. You panic, desperately searching for any excuse to talk to him. 

What do you say? 

Suddenly you’re right before him, drink in one hand and the other nervously touching your hair as you dumbly stare at him. He looks up from the drink in his hand, a whiskey on the rocks you’d guess, and meets your eyes. 

His gaze is cold and stoic. 

Unimpressed. 

He raises an expectant eyebrow. 

And yet you say nothing. All the witty, insightful, hard-hitting truths you’d wanted to tell him for the last six months vanish as you stand before him frozen in panic. 

Pathetic.

Pathetic. 

Pathetic!

You have nothing. Your mind’s empty, the only thing you can do is feel. Feel the self-hatred, the loneliness, the insecurity he’s inflicted upon you. 

He rolls his eyes. Aemond’s not known for his patience, “If you’re looking for that new boyfriend of yours, he’s not here”

“I don’t have a boyfriend”, you blurt out, prompted by the shiver running through you caused by the venom dropping from his words. He sounds so hateful. 

He stands abruptly, forcing you to take a faltering step back as he tower over you,

“Come”

He takes the drink in your hand and places it on a nearby table before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the rowdy club. The chill of the night air hits your scarcely clad body as he drags you towards a cab waiting outside, your ears still ringing from the loud music in the club.

He opens the door and pushes on your arm to get in. His touch is still impossibly warm; just as you remember it. 

He slams the door shut and walks around to the other side, getting in and grunting an address you’ve never heard of to the taxi driver.  

You know your friends would be furious if they knew who you left with, so you send them a quick text stating that you’ve left ‘cause you didn’t feel well. 

You place your phone back in your purse and look outside. It seems like you’re driving towards the north part of the city, a place you hardly know. 

The deafening silence in the taxi is so tense, any sane person would ask the driver to stop and get out in a heartbeat. 

Aemond, sitting next to you with his jaw clenched and fidgeting with his customised black and red lighter, sends nervous ripples of fear through your being. You know he’s contemplating something, yet you wouldn’t dare ask. 

Any sensible person would get out. 

But you can’t. 

Because he still smells the same. And it’s everywhere in the stuffy cab. And your heart hurts, a tear threatens to spill, because you’ve missed it all so much; his smell, his hair, his voice, his touch. 

Him.

The silence persists, until you're finally freed as the taxi driver stops and Aemond hands him a few copper stars. 

You get out and take a deep breath of the late summer night's air. The buzz of alcohol still clouds your judgement somewhat, yet you feel more aware of yourself than ever before. 

You look around and see Aemond approach the entrance to a sleek building in that brutalist, modern design, and you follow in tow. He still hasn’t said anything, and neither have you.

You get in a lift, go up to the top floor, and enter a dark flat with only a small table lamp lit by the entrance, obscuring your view of the place. 

Just as you make way to move further into the room, Aemond hinders you. 

He doesn’t allow you entrance to the rest of the space, cornering you against a low side table by the entrance door. He’s so tall, and so broad, you disappear into the wall as he steals all the space around you. 

“Why did you agree to come with me?” 

He’s so close you feel his breath tickle your skin. It’s too dark to truly see the expression on his face, but the shadows cast on him makes him look stern. The smell of him intensifies. You feel warm.  

This is all you’ve wanted. All you’ve feared. 

You still desire him so.

“You told me to”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you know it’s because your reply’s caught him off guard. He’d assumed you’d fight back, jab at him in some way. He tries again,

“My mate saw you at that club last week, you know”

Is he keeping tabs on you? 

“What happened to your boyfriend?” 

How does he know about that? 

You swallow, “Nothing. It just wasn’t right” 

“Hm”

Your eyes are locked together, his mismatched gaze just as alluring as you remember it. Without looking away, he brings a hand up to gently stoke the cold skin of your arm. 

The harshness of his stare falters, 

“Did you miss me?” 

“Did you miss me?” 

The retort leaves your lips before you register it forming in your head. Can’t give in to him that easily. Can’t make your suffering known to the person causing it. 

The harshness reappears. 

“Did he fuck you the way you like?” 

His tone is cold, yet heated with anger. The same hateful tinge from before. 

Your drunk mind works without you operating it, 

“He wasn’t you”

The confession slips out, and so does the pitifulness. The loneliness. The pathetic mess you’ve become. 

Aemond didn’t expect your admission either, eyes narrowing in suspicion, 

“What do you mean?”

Is this the time? 

To tell him how utterly devastated you’ve been without him? How he plagues your mind? How your entire being is tainted by him? 

No. 

“Why did you bring me here?”, you ask, foggy mind finally cooperative enough to let you change the subject.

“Because you wanted me to”, he replies, the gentle hand on your arm suddenly travelling down to caress your exposed thigh before  harshly cupping your cunt. 

A startled gasp espaces your lips. 

His touch is so nostalgic it travels from your aroused core to your heart, and squeezes it painfully.  

His hand is big enough to cover you entirely, and with the heel of his palm, he pushes harshly where he knows your swollen clit lies obscured under your panties. His long finger taps against your hole, and he huffs a quiet, condescending laugh as he feels how moist the fabric is.

When did you get this wet? 

You feel the heat of his touch radiate from his palm to your cunt, so persistent it finds its way through your underwear. He only moves his hand to stroke you over the fabric and press at your clit, but the gratification of finally being granted his touch works you towards release at a speed you’d thought impossible. 

“Still a little slut for me”  

He brings two fingers up to press right over your clit, rough circles demanding that you obey his touch and come for him. 

His breathing hard through his nose, the look in his eye is hard to decipher, 

Arousal? 

Fury? 

Fuck it feels good to be pushed against a wall by him. To be subjected to his rough treatment. Anything to feel his touch on you again. 

Your hips move upwards to meet his fingers; you’re so close to falling apart. 

“You missed me. And that fucker you were seeing couldn’t compare to me. Isn’t that right?” 

He spits out the words, teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he leans even closer. 

Your arms have been hanging limply at your side, and you have to fight the sudden urge to grab him and press him against you. To feel him closer. 

“Did he make you this wet?”

Aemond’s tongue licks the sensitive spot behind your ear and you moan loudly, fully consumed by the way his fingers push you towards release. 

You angle your face so that his mouth is right by yours. With parted lips, you look up at him pleadingly, begging him to kiss you. 

Something in his eye shifts, and a victorious smirk breaks out over his face, 

“Come”

And you do. So hard you see stars and your legs give out. The pleasure is intense, it steals everything from you; your breath, your senses, your self-discipline. 

Your hands fly to Aemond’s biceps, anchoring yourself to him as your body twitches forcefully in the pleasure rupturing you. It’s cathartic; a long awaited release only his hands can coax out. 

When you come back to reality, to the dark hallway you're trapped against Aemond’s body in, the dreaded self-hatred you’d gotten to know so well makes itself known again. 

The brutal reality of exactly how far your pathetic infatuation with Aemond has driven you crashes over you like an ice-cold wave of regret. You feel hot tears well up in the corner of your eyes as they stay casted down, refusing to look up at the man who’s greatest pleasure in life seems to be to torment you. 

Why had he brought you here? Why did he enjoy hurting you? Why had you fallen for it? 

“What did I do to make you hate me so?” 

It’s the alcohol talking. Or maybe it’s the last thing you need to hear from him before you can finally let go. The last shard of your heart crushed in his grip. 

Silence is the only answer he gives you, and without looking up, you push him to move so you can get away from him. Instead of allowing you to leave, he brings one hand to your cheek, engulfing it in warmth, and drags your face upwards to meet his eyes. 

Before you can read his expression, he ducks his head down, letting his lips graze over yours. His tongue comes out to swipe over your lower lip in a slow, gentle caress that feels more sensual than anything you’ve ever experienced, and in retaliation your greedy arms pull him closer, eagerly kissing him back. There’s a slow urgency to the way his tongue seeks out yours, bending your body backwards to taste you deeper. You relish in it. 

You want him to eat you up. To devour you completely. You’re his anyway. 

Without breaking the kiss, Aemond leads you down the dark hallway and into a dimly lit room. The only thing you register is a large bed in the middle, where he takes a seat and keeps you standing between his legs, still kissing you. 

His hands roam over your body; over your exposed arms and legs. They find the zipper at the back of your dress and pull it down, slowly undressing you until you're completely bare. 

He stands for a brief moment to rid himself of his own clothes, and then sits again, guiding you to climb onto his lap. 

You follow his every command in enchantment. You grant him every kiss he seeks, allow him every touch he craves. He can have it all. 

He guides you to sink down on him slowly. You’re still so wet, yet he’s so hard your insides are forced to mould after his stiffness. 

Once he fills each part of you, he wraps your legs around his waist, sighing in satisfaction as he presses your body so close to his the skin of your torso sticks to his. 

“I won’t last long-”, he whispers into your ear, “-a 6 month wait is excruciating”

The touch that you’ve known as harsh and demanding is now so soft. So delicate it slowly picks up the shattered pieces of your broken heart and mends them together again with each gentle caress.

Your hands cup his cheeks, gazing into his lilac and blue stare as you slowly begin to move. 

Aemond doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say that one phrase that you want him to, but the look in his eyes is mesmerising. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. It’s intimate.

He’s giving himself to you. 

You wrap your arms around him, accepting him. You want all of him, all to yourself. You’ve wanted him for half a year. You’ve wanted him since the first time you met him. 

He meets your hips each time you sink down, and the otherwise carnal pursuit for pleasure feels dreamlike as Aemond’s arms envelop you and you disappear into him. 

You want to say it, but not yet. You don’t dare. Would he retreat again? You know it to be true, but it’s too early. Maybe someday. 

Instead, it’s Aemond who speaks over the moans and sighs of pleasure,

“Don’t leave me again” 

You don’t know how long you fuck, but each orgasm feels more consuming, more powerful, than the last. Ultimately, you collapse together on the bed, legs and arms still intertwined. The familiarity of Aemond’s heavy arms over your waist soothes you, yet the soft sheets of the bed provide a stark contrast to the stiff, clinical sheets of the hotel rooms he’d always brought you to before. 

There’s nothing left between you, no more layers to shed, so you ask him about everything that had led up to your separation. About how he dismissed you in front of his mother, and about the text from his brother. The latter seems to genuinely surprise him, 

“I’ve never shared your pictures with anyone, especially not him” 

Guess Aegon Targaryen isn’t above snooping through his brother’s stuff. 

You talk all night, and Aemond tells you about his strained relationship with his family, “My family has an ability to ruin things for me”, he confesses, “I didn’t want that to happen with you”

As the rays of sunrise begin to seep through the window, you admit to the loneliness that’s been eating away at you since parting from Aemond. 

He cups your cheek again, thumb stroking your cheekbone,

“I fucked up. I’ve missed you more than I thought possible”

Your loneliness hadn’t been solitary. He’d felt it too. You’d shared it. 

You lay your head on his chest, listening to the slow drum of his heart. Before it lulls you to sleep, you remember the last thing you’d like to ask him,

“Aemond, where are we?”

“My place”

A/N: I never know if I should write it as come or cum? After some studious research (not), I decided that come is the original and therefore works better! Thank you for reading, I write these drabble for fun to improve my writing, so don't be too harsh please 🫶🩵

[mrs-weasley-reid]

JULY REC FICS

Hello, my sweets!! I wanted to try something out to provide my full and utter support to all the amazing writers I've come across in the form of monthly rec fics (starting this month). Join me in giving them love through comments and reblogs. It really is a joy to hear how you're doing as a writer. It makes up for all the angst we write lol

I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. And the number of fics will depend on how much I've read the entire month. Also, please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+, so MINORS should not be interacting in any way, especially when the authors themselves specify it.

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Spencer Reid

✿ a question unasked by @easy-there-leftovers ↳ SOOOO ADORABLE. I'm a workaholic craze gal, so it speaks to me on a silly level.

✿ missing the happy hormone by @lavenderspence ↳ I'm a sucker for Spencer fluff this month, what can I say? This fic Tina made had my waterworks going on for about a minute because it's so sweet

✿ desk duty by @reiderwriter ↳ All you have to know is the amount of evil laugh I made while reading this

✿ the theory of love by @ophelia-is-complex ↳ Genuine intimacy is quite a challenge to write, but THIS ONE, this one had me in a sappy mood

✿ like nothing matters by @cerisereids ↳ gagged and had to pause the reading so many times because HELLO— had me spiraling at work

✿ the devils disguise by @qlossytbh ↳ I said I sobbed a little bit, but I actually cried so much I ended up taking a nap and felt better afterward. It's all fluff, though, don't get me wrong. I'm just very dramatic when the red devil's on the clock

✿ not so funny by @reidmania ↳ Angsty, that made me wanna start a fight with some random twiggy tall guy. Sooooo good!

✿ cloaked in passions touch by @raekensluver ↳ If you don't like Spencer's hands, you're fucking lying to yourself!!!!!

✿ language of devotion by @gghostwriter ↳ I'm in love with reid, and this fic just had me stumbling back onto his lap like a good gal

✿ this req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ Sorry, I'm not sure what the title is, but it's so adorable and got me to go to work, so kind of a lifesaver tbh

✿ hallucinate by @gghostwriter ↳ Oooo, this one was so cute, hehe. Honestly, I lean towards Spencer fluff lately just because I've been too overstimulated with work this past month, so READ THIS ONE ITS CUTE

✿ it's golden, like daylight by @dudeitiskarev ↳ I actually felt like I was reader the entire time I read this. It's well-written and so adorable and something that should be framed in a museum

✿ much ado about nothing series by @incognit0slut ↳ binged it all morning, and I was whipped !!! It's ongoing, so if I have to wait, so does everybody else

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron Hotchner

✦ choiceless hope series by @hotchfiles ↳ This series had me rolling over my bed on a Saturday. A lot of feelings getting played (mostly mine)

✦ beanstalk by @solardrop ↳ I kid you not; I was giggling like a weirdo when I read it. And that itself deserves the recommendation.

✦ too busy being yours by @hotchfiles ↳ Lari knows how to get a sick gal to giggle. I love bau!rossi!reader. I love Rossi as reader's dad, so I enjoyed it more than I thought I would

✦ ignorance by infatuation by @boneblushed ↳ Oh, this one was a nice snack while on my break at work. LOVED IT SO MUCH

✦ hungover by @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi ↳ Mmmm, such a good read! Plus Jemily is there sooooo

✦ from across the bar by @hotchscoffeecup ↳ Evil laugh ensues. A nice cuppa of some good ole kinky stuff

✦ doomed by @hotchfiles ↳ guys, I stopped my car in the middle of driving home just to read it, so it's THAT good. Honestly, I strongly encourage everyone to read all of Lari's works! She's my writer crush, if none of you realized it by now

✦ a bunch of cuties in love by @lavenderspence ↳ hehehehehehe this definitely did not remind me of that one older guy I used to flirt with who had an adorable younger brother that I babysat🤭

✦ schrodinger's cat by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ angst on a Saturday morning is like taking a shot of soju before 11 am, and this one felt like it <3

how about you also comment your top 3 fave fics for this month to spread more love to our great writers?

[imaginestuffs]

"You, Of Course"- Fred Weasley x Reader

word count:10,705

warnings: very slight angst, some fluff, maybe a little ooc Fred.

summary: Fred asks Angelina to the ball, and so you decide to say yes to the one person you know you shouldn't have said yes to.

(gif not mine!)

You never knew that morning when you woke up that you would be asked to the Yule ball. You had no idea it would be a Ravenclaw to ask you either. Waking up that day you just expected another 24 hours of waiting helplessly to be asked by the one person you so desperately wanted to be asked by. His name was Fred Weasley, and he was one of your best friends, if not your best friend. You had met him and his brother George on the train at the beginning of your first year. Now here you were after having ever-so-clumsily fallen in love with Fred, hoping that maybe he’d fallen in love with you too. Perhaps he’d ask you to be his date to the Yule ball, and things would fall into place just as perfectly as you had imagined time and time again. 

Now back to the Ravenclaw boy, his name was Alexander Gray. He was in the same year as you and just so happened to be a pretentious asshole.

You walked into the Great Hall that morning with no other intention than to eat breakfast and head on to your Herbology lesson. Not having slept well the night before you were not looking forward to the day. Though, you knew that the boys would likely try to keep you for as long as they could without making you too late for class. 

You took your spot next to Fred and sighed heavily while gathering all of the things you needed for your usual breakfast. Fred and George had noticed you sit down and waited for your usual good morning, but it never came. 

“Well, good morning to you too darling. Why so chipper?” Fred questioned teasingly. You turned to look at him and gave your best smile. “You, of course,” you teased back and he grinned broadly. “I thought so, I mean I am your only reason to smile,” he said and you nodded meekly. If only he knew how right he was. He was the reason you smiled so much, if it wasn’t for him you’d probably be the most miserable person ever. He noticed just how feeble you were being and a look of worry replaced his bright grin. 

Before he could speak up, his brother did. “(y/n), are you alright? You don’t seem like your usual self, did something happen?” George asked. You quickly shook your head, “No, no everything is just fine, just didn’t sleep very well last night,” you tried to reassure them. They both looked at you with uncertainty. “Are you sure?” Fred asked and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Of course,” you nodded as firmly as you could with the best smile you could muster. Fred being the reason you didn’t sleep was something you decided to keep to yourself. You could tell that Fred didn’t believe you and neither did George but they left it for the time being. 

You went through breakfast quickly and said your goodbyes. 

“I’ll see you guys later ok, don’t miss me too much,” you smiled before giving George a kiss on the head as per usual, not doing the same with Fred. (you see he had stopped his usual affections a few weeks ago and you just thought he had gotten sick of you so you stopped) Turning to leave you felt someone grab your wrist softly, and you turned back around. “Hey, (y/n), have you got a date to the ball yet?” Fred asked, and your heart skipped a beat. Was this it? Was he finally going to ask you? 

“No, actually I don’t, why?” you asked softly. At that moment your hopes were so high. 

“Just thought I’d ask, and let you know that I’m going with Angelina, so when you get a date maybe we can all go together,” he said and immediately your heart fell. You could feel your smile falter for a few seconds before coming back up. You had to hide your feelings, you felt the need to bury them as far as you could. You took your hand from his grip and nodded your head. “Ok,” you spoke before walking away from the table. 

If you had looked back you would’ve seen the concern and confusion cloud his eyes as you walked away from him.  “What did you do?” George asked as all of your friends watched you walk away. “I’m not sure,” he said with confusion written across his face. “I’ve never seen her walk away like that,” Ginny spoke up. “Should I go after her?” Fred questioned and Hermione stepped in this time. “No, I think we should give her some space, she doesn’t seem like she wants anyone around right now,” 

“Yeah I guess you’re right, we’ll see her in Potions, I’m sure she’ll be ok Freddie,” George spoke to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Fred ignored that his brother called him Freddie despite you being the only one to call him that. He just glanced back over his shoulder and you were gone. 

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to quicken your pace. Your heart broke, of course, he would ask Angelina, she was perfect, her skin, her hair, her personality, everything. She was everything that you weren’t and so much more. Well, at least that’s what you thought. 

Despite the state you were in you could feel someone watching you. So immediately you wiped your eyes and looked up from where you were watching your feet. You caught the gaze of Alexander as he watched you walk by with a grin. Before you could get past him he stepped up next to you, “Good morning (y/n), would it be alright if I walked you to class?” he asked.  Nodding you gave him a  wary smile. “Sure,” you said warily and pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“You know, I know the ball is coming up soon, do you have anyone you’re going with?” He asked you. Your heart sunk even lower. “No, I don’t have anyone, no one’s asked me,” you sounded the slightest bit hurt and he could tell but obviously didn’t care. “Well, I wanted to know if you’d like to go with me?” he asked and your eyes widened. “What?” you asked softly as you looked at him. “Would you like to be my date to the Yule ball?” he asked once again. Your eyes fluttered as you looked at him in a fluster. “I um- Yeah, I’ll go with you, Alexander,” you smiled at him and he gently lifted your hand to place a kiss on the back of it just as you stopped next to your class. 

“I hope to see you again soon pretty girl,” he smiled at you before opening the door for you to enter the classroom.  You blushed softly and thanked him before walking to your seat and watching the door close. 

Having a class with Angelina and being her partner after what happened was a bit awkward but you knew you couldn’t let it show. You had always loved her, and she was one of your good friends, but at the moment you just couldn’t bring yourself to smile so genuinely at her. Did you blame her? No, absolutely not. You would’ve said yes too. It didn’t stop your heart from hurting though. 

“Hey, (y/n/n), are you ok?” she asked as you walked out of class that day. Sending her a smile you nodded your head. “Yeah, I’m alright, just a bit tired that’s all,”  you told her the same excuse you had used that morning.  “You sure?” she questioned and placed a hand on your arm to get you to look at her. “I’m sure, I just had a long night. I’ll see you later ok?” you said and gave her arm a squeeze before waving at her as you walked away. 

On the walk to your Potions class, you tried to calm yourself as best you could. You knew you were going to be sitting next to Fred, and so you needed to collect yourself. Taking slow steps in order to drag out your journey, you tried to take deep breaths. Before you could get there you noticed someone fall into step with you. Knowing those shoes anywhere you felt your heart stop for a moment. Of course, he had to find you before class started. 

“Hello love, it’s been a while hasn’t it?” he asked and nudged your shoulder. Trying to get a positive reaction from you. “ Not too long,” you said and kept your eyes straight ahead, not wanting to face Fred right now. “But you missed me right?” he questioned again and you huffed out a laugh. “Sure did,” you said. “I missed you too, you know,” he told you and you couldn’t help but want to roll your eyes. “Did you really?” you asked and took a quick glance at him. “Of course, I did. The fact that you thought I wouldn’t, wounds me (y/n),” he said and placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. 

When you didn’t respond his shoulders fell. “What’s wrong (y/n)? Have I done something?” he stopped you from walking and made you face him. You looked away from him again, “No, you haven’t done anything, Fred,” you told him. “Has someone else done something?” he questioned a little louder this time. “No one has done anything, I’m just tired that’s all ok. Let’s get to class before we get detention please,” you said, and for the second time that day, you walked away from him.  He sighed and watched you get further from him. 

You didn’t want to feel the way you did, but you couldn’t help it. “C’mon Fred, we’ll be late,” you called back to him and heard his steps get closer. You could tell he was upset, “Sorry Freddie just not a very good day,” you said softly before squeezing his arm reassuringly. “S’ok just want to make sure you’re ok, I mean you’re my best friend,” he said and you sighed before nodding your head. “Right, you too Freddie,” you said as you opened the classroom door. He held it for you as you stepped inside and made your way to your shared desk. 

You hardly noticed that George was already there, and almost everyone else was too. Luckily you had gotten there before the bell rang, so no points were taken off. 

The class ended and you sighed heavily lucky enough to have gotten out with no new essays. You walked out of the class flanked by your favorite twins.  “I didn’t fall asleep this time,” George says almost astounded with himself. You chuckled, “I’m proud of you Georgie,” you said and looped your arm through his. You had your next class with him, but Fred’s fortunately for you was Herbology which you had already had that day. 

“We’ll meet you in the Great Hall for lunch Fred, have fun in Herbology,” George spoke to his brother as he reluctantly walked in the opposite direction. Looking back and wondering why you could act so casual and affectionate with his brother but not him. He didn’t know what was happening but he had to figure it out soon or he would go crazy. 

You leaned your head against George’s shoulder as you walked, and he looked down at you. “What happened this morning?” he asked and you sighed. “What did he say?” he asked again. “He told me that he was going to the ball with Angelina and that when I find a date we should all go together,” you let out a breath. He let go of your arm and wrapped his around your shoulders. “I’m sorry (y/n),” He said and tugged you closer to him. You knew that he knew you had feelings for Fred. “I would ask you but I’m going with Alicia…” he trailed off, he really did feel bad. “You don’t have to be sorry, someone’s already asked me. I said I’d go…” you told him and felt your shoulders sag just a bit. His eyes widened as he looked down at you. “Who asked you then?” he questioned in excited curiosity. 

“Alexander Gray,” you answered him softly. He huffed out a laugh, “You have to be joking, you know how he is (y/n). I can’t believe you said yes to him,” he said in disbelief. It was common knowledge that Alexander was quite fond of leading girls on for a few months and then breaking their hearts. You just said yes because he was the first person to ask, and it was only true that you wanted to go to the ball. You wanted that experience, you wanted that experience with Fred, but that wasn’t an option anymore so you set your expectations a little lower. Meaning you said yes to a jerk in the middle of being in a vulnerable state. 

“We all know no one else would ask me George, and I want to go to the ball and not alone. I want someone to dance with, and even just for a while enjoy the night despite it not being with who I wanted,” you told him. It was his turn to sigh. 

“I know for a fact that there are so many people here who would’ve loved to go with you. You just don’t value yourself enough. You’re worth a lot more than you think,” he told you and squeezed you tightly in a side hug. 

“Thanks, Georgie,” you said and leaned into him. 

The class had flown by and soon enough you were seated in the Great Hall for lunch. 

Sitting next to Fred and George as usual, you stayed pretty quiet throughout the meal. You worked on some homework so you wouldn’t have to that night. 

“Well, (y/n) here has got herself a date for the ball haven’t you?” George asked as he looked over at you. Your eyes were wide and you swore you blacked out for a second. Fred looked at you with furrowed brows. “I thought you said you weren’t going with anyone this morning?” he asked. You shook your head lightly. “I-um- yeah actually someone asked me on the way to class this morning,” you replied. “Who was it?” Fred asked, he almost seemed a bit upset. “Um- it was- it was Alexander Gray. He walked me to class and asked me if I’d go with him so I said yes,” you told him and the whole table just stopped to look at you for a second. “This has to be a joke. You said yes, to Alexander Gray. why? Do you hate yourself or something, or are you just an idiot?” Fred questioned incredulously. You looked at him with hurt eyes. 

He knew he had messed up when he saw the look you gave him. You got up from your spot and walked out of the Great Hall, your back turned to him for the third time that day.

“You idiot! What was that all about?” George hit his brother. “I didn’t mean to say that. It just came out,” he said hopelessly.“You complete moron,” Hermione slammed her book shut.  “Did you see how hurt she was?” Ginny asked. “Why would she say yes to him?” Fred asked everyone. “Did it not occur to you that maybe she just wanted someone to go with? I mean after what you said this morning I would say yes to someone who asked me right after as well. She didn’t want us to think that she’d have to go alone, it’s rather obvious,” Hermione stepped in again. “That doesn’t mean she has to say yes to him,” Fred spat out. 

“You are absolutely insufferable,” she said and got up from her spot as well to go after you. Ginny joined her. 

“You know, you should be the one going after her,” George told him and shook his head. “I don’t think she wants me around much today,” Fred said. “You really don’t realize that you’ve hurt her feelings at least twice now?” George spoke up. “What do you mean twice? What did I do in the first place?” Fred questioned in frustration. “I can’t tell you that, but you sure as hell know what you did the second time around,” George said not willing to out your secret. “What do you mean you can’t tell me?” he sounded even more frustrated. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” George said and went back to his food. 

You walked away from him once more, and you never thought he would say something like that to you. He knew you better than anyone else and he had to have known that it was gonna hurt you. You had no clue why he would be this upset about it. Sure Alexander is a crappy person but you never thought he would insult you for it. 

Tears leaked from your eyes as you continued your walk to the black lake. You hadn’t expected anyone to follow you and so you were surprised when Hermione and Ginny showed up beside you. You quickly tried to dry your tears, but it was too late they had already seen them. 

“(y/n), are you ok?” Ginny asked. “Of course, she’s not ok your brother was a complete git,” Hermione spoke up. “No, no he wasn’t. I guess he was right, I am kind of an idiot aren’t I? I mean I said yes to the first boy who asked me because I couldn’t stand the fact that Fred was going with Angelina,” you let the words tumble from your mouth. They both looked at you with sympathy as you sat down in front of the lake. “I mean maybe I do hate myself, I never would have said yes if I didn’t think so lowly of myself that he was all I’d ever be asked by,” you spoke up again as you let your eyes wander to the water. “Don’t say that about yourself, we all know how much you’re worth. So does Fred despite what he said he knows how many people would kill to ask you to the ball,” Ginny said. 

“It sure as hell doesn’t seem like I’m worth that much to him at all. I shouldn’t even care, but I do, I do care so much and it drives me crazy. He drives me crazy, in the best and worst ways and I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s clear he doesn’t want me, so it’s best if I just get over it, and just try not to think of him anymore,” you finished your rant and took a deep breath in and out. “You’ll be ok, you know? He’ll come to his senses and see just what he’s lost. Why don’t we return to the castle and get you cleaned up before afternoon classes?” Hermione said and brushed your hair behind your shoulder. You looked over at her and gave a weak smile. “Ok,” you said and you all three got up to head back to the castle. 

It was almost funny to you that everyone seemed to know about your love for the ginger, everyone except for him. 

The end of the day came quicker than you thought it would and soon enough you were situated by the fire in the common room. Hermione and Ginny were sitting around you and then came the rest of your friends. You noticed Fred coming your way and instantly began to internally panic. Hermione could feel you tense up and placed a comforting hand on your knee. “You’re ok,” she whispered for only you to hear. You slowly nodded your head and let out a sigh. 

“(y/n), can I talk with you?” he asked and you looked at him for a second before feeling Hermione nudge you. “Um, yeah ok,” you said and got up from your spot to follow him to the corner tucked away from everyone else. 

You sat down and so did he. “I’m not good with this kind of thing, but I know for a fact that I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say any of that, I know you’re not an idiot, and I was wrong for what I said to you,” He told you and you wrung your hands. “It’s ok, I mean maybe I am an idiot for saying yes to him… I guess going alone would’ve been better, I just wanted that experience with someone,” you told him truthfully. He looked at you with furrowed brows. “You're not an idiot, I’m sorry I even said that. I just think you deserve better than him. He’s not good enough for you that I know for sure,” he said and reached out to grab your hands in his. “Thanks, Freddie,” you said and tried not to let your eyes tear up again. Knowing he did care made things so much worse. “Of course, it’s the truth. Now, I have one question for you if I may,” he said and you looked at him in confusion. “What is it?” you asked. “Save a dance for me?” he asked and your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, of course,” you breathed out softly before giving him a weak smile. 

He let go of your hands but before he walked away he looked down at you again. “Is there anything else bothering you love?” he questioned and you looked at him softly before shaking your head. “No, nothing at all Freddie. I am a bit tired though so I think I’ll just head on to bed now,” you said and got up from your spot. “You can tell me anything,” he reminded you as you stepped away from him. “I know. Goodnight Fred,” you told him and gave him a wave before bidding everyone else goodnight. 

He sighed heavily as your footsteps receded up the stairs. Hopeful things would be better the next day, he went to sit with his friends. “Is everything ok?” George asked. “Yeah, I think everything is ok now. I apologized and we talked, I just hope she’s ok, she still seems a bit off. I’m worried,” Fred explained. “She’ll be ok, I mean sometimes you have to figure things out on your own,” Ginny said. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Fred sighed. 

The next week seemed to fly by, and before you knew it it was the day before the ball. You had picked out the perfect dress and you were honestly excited. 

Walking down to breakfast you had an actual smile on your face. You looked happier than you had been in a while. You stepped into the Great Hall and instantly found your friends with an open spot just by Fred and George as usual. Before you could get to your seat someone came up and took it. Your brows furrowed and your lips fell into a thin line, just as you were about to tell this person off you realized who it was. It was Angelina and your heart sank. You walked up to the table and greeted everyone before Hermione moved to give you a spot next to her. You smiled gratefully and took the seat. George smiled over at you sympathetically and you gave a small smile back. 

You could tell he felt bad for you, and it hurt even worse because it seemed that Fred didn’t really care that she took your spot next to him. Though it wasn’t your assigned seat, and it wasn’t specially reserved for you, it was. It was your seat, it was where you always sat every meal of the day. You could see Hermione glaring daggers at Fred, and you placed a hand on her arm to get her to look at you. “It’s ok,” you spoke softly. “No it’s not,” she spoke through gritted teeth. “It has to be,” you said and she sighed. “He’s so oblivious it’s painful,” she told you and you almost chuckled. She looked over at you with an amused smile at the thought of almost making you laugh. 

“So, (y/n), I heard you have a date. If you want we can all go together,” Angelina spoke up and you gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Sure,” you said and nodded your head despite wanting to say no. You wanted to tell her that you wouldn’t like to go together, that you’d rather be stuck with Alexander all by yourself than watch her and Fred be so close all night. Instead, you said “yes”, you said yes just for him, to put a smile on his face. You saw him do just that, he smiled at you and placed his arm around Angelina. 

“I’m gonna go, I actually wanted to get to class a little early today I have to talk to the professor about something,” you spoke and got up to leave. “I’ll see you in class then?” Angelina asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll see you in class,” you said and waved to everyone. “Wait up (y/n), I’ll walk you to class,” George said, and you smiled at him gratefully. “I’d like that, c’mon then Georgie,” You said and motioned for him to join you. 

“George our lesson is in the opposite direction you won’t make it back in time,” Fred looked at him in confusion. “That’s ok,” George shrugged his shoulders and wrapped an arm around you. “Let’s get going then,” you said and began your walk to your herbology class. 

“Do you reckon he fancies her?” Angelina asked and everyone kind of laughed. “No way, we’ve been best friends since first year,” Fred huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know, he seems really sweet on her sometimes,” Angelina tried again. “Does he?” Fred asked. “But I guess that’s because you’ve been friends for so long,” she shrugged and went back to her food. 

Fred’s mind thought back to all the times that you and his brother were together. He was reminded of how affectionate you were with him and he was with you. Maybe he did like you, maybe he’s just been trying to hide it all these years. Then he thought about all the times you and him were like that. Every time you’d play with his hair and loop your arm through his as you walked together. All of the times you’d kiss his head before getting up to go to bed, and when you’d hug him for no other reason than you missed him. 

The times when he would be the one to pull you closer, where he would let you sit between his legs with your back against his chest while you read. He would compare your hands to his because of how small they were against his. The thought of his brother doing anything remotely close to that with you was unnerving. He didn’t like it one bit, was he jealous? No, he couldn’t be, he didn’t like you like that. Or did he?

You sighed heavily and leaned into your friend. “Did she have to sit there? I mean, that’s my spot you know. Everyone knows that’s my spot,” you whined a bit and he chuckled. “She just sat down, we didn’t want to be rude,” George said. You rolled your eyes. “I know, I’m just getting sick of losing things to her. I mean she kind of stole the love of my life, and now she steals my seat next to him,” you threw your hands up in frustration.  He chuckled “It’s only temporary. They’re only together for one night, and then you can have your seat back too,” he said and you sighed again. “You think?” you asked and looked up at him with a slight pout. “Definitely,” he said and squeezed your shoulders. You leaned your head against his shoulder. “You know I love you right?” you asked him. “Of course, I do, who doesn’t love me?” he quipped and you nudged him in the side. “Alright, alright, I love you too,” he said and you smiled up at him and he kissed your forehead. 

Little did you know that Angelina was making her way to the classroom and overheard, and saw you and George. Keep this in mind, Angelina knew you had a date to the ball, but she didn’t know who it was. She, of course, took it that you and George were together or at least liked each other. She smiled to herself and kept on walking, already too excited to prove herself right to Fred. 

George opened the door for you and you walked in but not before giving him a hug. “Bye Georgie see you in Potions,” you said and waved. He was about to let go of the door before he saw Angelina coming his way so being ever the gentleman he held the door for her too. “Thanks, George,” she said and came over to sit next to you.

“Are you excited for the ball tomorrow?” she asked and you just nodded your head. “Yeah actually I am,” you said. “I’m glad we can go together,” she said and you gave her a weak smile. “I am too,” you lied. 

The rest of the class went by smoothly and on to the next you went. Straight to the dungeons for Potions. Getting there you noticed that Fred and George were already there which was a weird sight but they did have a shorter walk than you so you shrugged it off. 

You shot George a smile and went to sit with Fred. “Hello love,” he said and you gave a small smile back. “Hey, Freddie,” you said and got your book out to turn to the correct page. 

“I’d bet you anything that we get an essay today,” Fred said and you chuckled, “We already know you’d win, so there’s no need for a silly bet,” you said. “That’s true, but we can always debate what it’s going to be about,” he said and you rolled your eyes. “Sure,” you agreed. 

Before he could say anything Snape spoke up, and the lesson began. 

Fred of course, did things throughout the class to try and make you laugh, and despite yourself, you did. 

You walked out of class that day with surprisingly no essay and you chuckled. “Well I guess you would’ve lost that bet Fred, there was no essay today,” you shrugged as you continued down the corridors with the brothers. “Something is off about that,” George said and was about to toss an arm around your shoulder, but Fred noticed and did it before he could. George looked at him a little strangely but continued on. 

“Bye Fred, see you after this lesson,” you said and before he walked away he placed a kiss on your head. You looked at him with surprise and tried to suppress the light blush on your cheeks. It was nothing new to you, but he hadn’t done something like that in weeks. 

“You’re blushing,” George teased and you swatted his arm. “I am not!” you tried to deny it. He laughed. “You absolutely are,” he said and just wrapped his arm around your shoulders. 

“Did he seem a bit strange to you?” you asked George as you looked up at him with confusion. “A bit, yeah,” he agreed. “He hasn’t bothered to be that affectionate in weeks. That was weird,” you said as your brows furrowed. “Don’t think on it too much. I know you always overthink,” he said and tapped your head. You sighed and nodded, “I know, I guess I just missed it,” you said. “Well, apparently he did too,” George said. You hoped he was right, you really did but you had your doubts. 

Fred kept thinking back on the way you just seemed to melt into him when his arm was around you. He thought of the blush on your cheeks when he kissed you and couldn’t help but miss that feeling immediately. He didn’t truly understand what was happening but he could tell it was freaking him out. He had never realized just how much he thought about you and the little things that you do, or even the way you make him feel. He all of a sudden couldn’t wait to see you again. 

His lesson seemed to stretch on and on until finally, it came to an end. He quickly gathered his things and practically raced out the door and to the Great Hall.  When he arrived he saw you sitting in the spot next to Hermione again and noticed that once again Angelina had taken up your spot next to him. He sighed but made his way over to the table. 

“Hey Fred, how was herbology?” you asked. He smiled brightly at you, “Take a guess,” he said and you scrunched your nose and tilted your head to the side in thought. “Hmm, I’m gonna guess that it was just as boring as it always is to you,” you said with a smile. He felt his heart melt at your actions. He was so happy to see you acting as your normal self. Little did he know that he was the cause of it. His bringing back that affection you adored so much about him brought back some of your happiness. Despite Angelina being in your seat you just decided to keep George’s words in mind. This was only temporary, a one-night thing. 

“You’re perfectly right love,” he said and you chuckled. “I knew it,” you spoke happily. Before anyone else could say anything Angelina spoke up. 

“Fred, can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked and got up. “Um, yeah sure,” he said and followed her out of the Great Hall. 

They exited through the doors and she pulled him aside. 

“What’s this about?” he asked her. “I have proof,” she spoke confidently. “Proof of what exactly?” he asked her in confusion. “Proof, that George and (y/n) are together,” She stated simply. “What?” he questioned loudly. “Shh, lower your voice,” she said and grabbed his shoulders. “Where did you get that idea?” he asked this time quieter. 

“I saw them on the way to class this morning and they both said I love you. He kissed her forehead and held the door for her. Her smile was as big as I’ve ever seen it, I swear,” she said and Fred’s brows raised. “There’s no way, they would’ve told me,” he said, sounding upset. “Maybe they haven’t told anyone yet,” she shrugged. “But they would’ve told me,” he said. 

He had the thought in the back of his mind that it was all platonic of course, but then again he could be wrong. He felt his heart sink at the thought of you and George together, it didn’t seem right. You were a perfect pair, but not as a couple at least that’s what he thought. You both had dates for the ball but not with each other, maybe it was just because you were hiding it. No, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you and George weren’t right together. You were just friends, I mean you always told them that you loved them and they reciprocated of course. They were always affectionate, although he realized for weeks he hadn’t been as affectionate with you. He had been so busy caught up on pranks and going to the ball with Angelina that he didn’t make as much time for you. He didn’t realize it affected him until he pulled you close and kissed you goodbye. He didn’t realize how much he did miss you, the smell of your hair, and perfume. He missed how you would just lean into him, and fit so perfectly at his side. 

He and Angelina walked back into the Great Hall and noticed that George was behind you with his arms around your shoulders and his chin resting atop your head. Angelina gave him a knowing look before walking back to the table to collect her things and sit with her other friends for a while. 

“So what did you want to show me, Darling?” George asked and you chuckled at the name. “I just wanted to give you the notes that you didn’t take during History of Magic,” you said and he huffed. “Well, that’s boring,” he said and you chuckled again. “But you’ll appreciate it after hearing about the test we have next Friday,” you said and he let out a whine. “A test, really?” he questioned and you smiled. “Yes, George, a test, now copy these down and give them back before Friday please,” you said and handed them to him. He let you go and went to sit back down next to his brother. “Freddie, since you're learning the same thing you should copy those notes too,” you said and he just nodded. 

He just hoped he was reading too much into it. “You ok Freddie?” you asked. “Just fine,” he answered and you looked at him skeptically. “We can talk later if you want to,” you said and tried to give him a reassuring smile. He thought about it for a moment, “Yeah ok,” he said and tried to give his best smile back. 

The day seemed to fly by after that. You just had this worry in the back of your mind. This fear that maybe you had done something wrong, or maybe Angelina had upset him. Overall you just wanted him to be ok, and that’s what you were gonna make sure happened. 

The evening feast had come to an end and so you all headed back to the common room, whether that was to read, hang out, or in your case have a talk with your friend. 

As you made your way through the halls you fell into step with Fred. “May I?” you pointed at his arm. He just looked at you and gave a smile before nodding. You looped your arm through his and leaned against him a bit. “Angelina won’t mind will she?” you asked in honest wondering. “Of course not, she knows how close we are and it’s not like we’re dating,” he told you and you just nodded, “Alright, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t crossing any lines,” you said. “In fact, come here,” he said and pulled you to a halt so he could wrap his arms around you in a hug. You smiled brightly and let out a happy sigh at the feeling of him so close again. You leaned against his chest and held on as tightly as you could.

 “I’ve missed you, Freddie,” you admitted softly. He heard your words and his heart melted. “I’ve missed you too love,” he said and held you tighter. “I’m sorry for being the way I was these past few weeks. I’ve been separate from you and your feelings,” He told you and you looked up at him in surprise. “You don’t have to be sorry, I’ve been in a really bad mood for a while and haven’t been the easiest to be around, so I’m sorry,” you told him and pulled away a bit. 

“I guess we both haven’t been the best friends have we?” he asked and you chuckled softly. “I guess you’re right, now before it gets even colder, let’s go talk in the common room ok?” you asked and he nodded. “C’mon then,” he said and held his arm out to you once again. You took it as you walked through the portrait hole. 

You did as you used to do, and snuck him up to your dormitory. You sat down on your bed and luckily no one else was there. “Alright, now what did you want to talk about?” you asked him as you patted the spot next to you. “It’s about something that Angelina said to me today,” he spoke up and you nodded telling him it was ok to continue. “She told me that you and George were together,” he got out. Your face scrunched into one of utter confusion. “Where in the world did she get that absurd idea?” you questioned in astonishment. 

“She said she saw you and George on the way to class this morning, he kissed your head and you both said I love you. She assumed you were together,” he told you and you scoffed and shook your head. “You don’t honestly believe her do you?” you asked him. 

“I don’t know, you guys can be pretty affectionate sometimes,” he kind of trailed off. “What? I’m affectionate with you too, and I’d say even more so than with George,” you spoke in a huff. He looked at you and tried to hide a grin, “That’s true isn’t it?” he asked and you immediately nodded. “I’ve been asked by both of our mums if we were together, and have had to assure them every time that we were just friends.” You told him with a laugh. “Mum’s asked me as well,” He said and you chuckled. “So, just to clarify, your brother and I are not together,” you told him and he nodded. “Right, good, that eased my conscious,” he said and you smiled. He felt a weight lift off of him and he could breathe again. He had no idea why it weighed on him so harshly, but he knew that you were doing something to him. Something he never noticed before. 

You walked down the stairs with Fred behind you. You tried not to laugh as he nudged you forward. When you got to the bottom step you both split up. You went straight to George and he went to Angelina.   

“I guess you’ll have to break the news to poor George that you aren’t together,” he said and you laughed. “Sure, and you’ll have to break the news to Angelina that she was sorely mistaken,” you joked back. “Together?” he asked and you chuckled but nodded. “Together,” 

He walked up to her and smiled, “You might want to watch this,” he said with a smile and pointed over to where you stood in front of George. 

“What do you mean?” she asked. “Just watch,” he said and they went silent. 

“George, I know this may hurt, but I need to tell you something,” you spoke loud enough for most people to hear. He looked at you with worry in his eyes. “What’s wrong (y/n)?” he asked and stood up. “I hope you know that I love you, I really do,” you said and made tears come to your eyes as your bottom lip wobbled. He reached out to grab your hands and pull you away from everyone. ���What’s going on?” he asked and moved a piece of hair from your face. “I’m sorry but we aren’t together, we never have been, and I’m sorry to break it to you this way, but I just needed you to know the truth,” You told him with a shaky sigh. 

He looked at you with utter confusion, “What do you mean (y/n)? I know we’ve never been together, where is any of this coming from?” he asked and shook his head. “I just wanted you to know that I’ll always love you but just as a friend alright?” you asked and took his face in your hands. He held your wrists, “Ok, well I love you too just as a friend,” he said and you quickly pulled him into a hug. He hugged you back just as tightly. “What’s going on?” he whispered. “Angelina thought we were together, so I thought I'd give a bit of a show,” you whispered back and he chuckled. “Of course, you did,” he said and smiled down at you. “So, friends?” you asked. “Friends,” he said and kissed your head just like he had done earlier. 

Angelina looked at Fred with wide eyes, “Are you kidding me?” she asked and Fred let out a laugh. “This is how you tell me I’m wrong?” she questioned in slight annoyance. “We had to tell you somehow,” you walked over to them. “You could have just told me,” she said. “What’s the fun in that?” you asked and she rolled her eyes. “You guys are the worst I swear,” she said and you chuckled. “Right, but you’re still my date though?” he asked her. And your heart hurt a bit. “I am still your date,” she assured him and he smiled. “By the way (y/n), who’s your date if you’re not going with George?” she asked you curiously. You sighed heavily. “Alexander Gray,” you spoke softly but she caught it. Her eyes widened, “What? Why?” she questioned. “He asked me so I said yes,” you told her. ‘You could’ve said no,” she told you. “I know, but I didn’t, and I just have to live with that now,” you said and sighed before walking away. “Is she ok?” Angelina asked Fred. “I think she’s just upset about it,” he told her and said goodbye before following in your footsteps. 

“(y/n), are you ok?” he asked when he reached you. “Yeah, I’m ok, just a bit embarrassed is all,” you said and shrugged. “Don’t be, we’ve all made mistakes before, just maybe none as bad as this,” he joked and you sighed before swatting his arm. ‘Ok, Ok, I’m sorry,” he said, and you ended up chuckling. “I just hope he doesn’t try anything,” you said. “Don’t worry he won’t and if he does I’ll be there ok,” he told you and you smiled at him. “Thanks, Freddie,” you expressed your gratitude for your friend. 

“I think I’m going to head to bed, love you, Fred,” you said and kissed his head as you stood up to leave. “Love you too (y/n),” he replied. You told everyone goodnight and ascended the stairs. 

“So you seem to be on good terms with her again,” George said as he walked over to sit with his brother. “Yeah, everything is good,” he said with a content smile. “You look a little too happy right now. Did something happen?” George questioned him. “She said she loves me,” Fred told his brother. “Doesn’t she always say that?” his brother asked him. “Yeah, but it felt a little different this time,” he said with a smile. George smiled knowingly at his brother. Maybe he was starting to realize just how much you meant to him, and how much he meant to you. 

The next day came quickly and with it came nerves you never thought you’d have. You didn’t ever imagine yourself being nervous about going to a ball with Alexander Gray because you never imagined going to a ball with him.  You saw him and his most recent girl and would cringe. Now you are that most recent girl and still you cringed. 

You had started to get ready with your friends, and things were going ok. That is until you saw Angelina. She looked even more beautiful than she normally did. Her hair was up and her dress fit perfectly. She was a vision. You knew that there was no way that Fred wouldn’t fall for her now if he hadn’t already. You looked at her and sighed before looking at yourself and sighing again. Hermione noticed that and walked over to you. 

“You look beautiful too, did you know that?” she asked and you smiled softly at her. “Thanks, Hermione, you do too,” you said. “Why don’t we finish your makeup and get down there?” she asked and you nodded your head. “Alright, I can do that,” you said and turned back to the mirror. Hermione stayed seated next to you making small talk as you finished the last details of your makeup. 

You got done and turned to look at your friend. “Any fixes?” you asked her and she turned your face to the light. “No, it’s perfect,” she told you and smiled. “I’m ready if you are,” you told her and she smiled. You took one last glance in the mirror and tried to put on the best smile you could muster. 

You walked down the stairs in your beautiful baby blue dress. Closely resembling a ball gown, layers of tulle, and perfectly fitted at the waist. The sleeves hung perfectly off of your shoulders, and your hair lay just right over them. Fred turned to the stairs just as you stepped off the last one. His eyes went wide, and he swore the world stopped spinning. 

The second Fred stopped talking everyone looked at him and followed his stare. 

There you were, to him the most beautiful girl in the castle. It seemed like for a moment they might all say the same. 

You felt everyone’s eyes on you and you looked up. Noticing Fred looking at you like you were the only one in the room felt like a dream, you didn’t expect that, honestly, you didn’t expect anyone to look at you like they were. Angelina spoke first. 

“(y/n), you look beautiful,” she said and walked over to give you a hug. You blushed softly and smiled. “So do you, and you Alicia you look lovely as well,” you said and smiled over at her. 

You walked over to join them all and George quickly wrapped an arm around you and smiled down at you. “Lovely as ever (y/n),” he said and you smiled at him. “Dashing Georgie,” you said and reached up to pinch his cheek teasingly. He swatted your hand away and chuckled. You looked over at Fred and he had a bright smile on his face. “You look beautiful, love,” he said and walked over to you to give you a spin. You chuckled as you twirled around once. Angelina looked at the scene in front of her, and suddenly a knowingness came over her. She could see the look on your faces, you weren’t just friends and you could never be just friends. She knew that now. She smiled at the scene in front of her and let it play out. George smiled too, he knew that if something didn’t happen that night, in due time it would. 

Fred smiled at the blush on your cheeks and couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat at the sight of you smiling so fondly back at him. 

“Should we all get going then?” Alicia asked and you finally broke your gaze from his. “Um, yeah of course, Alexander should be waiting for me by now,” you said and your smile faltered a bit at the thought. 

“You’ll be fine, trust me,” Fred spoke to you and gave you a soft nudge forward. You nodded and made your way out of the common room with everyone. 

You stood at the top of the stairs and looked at everyone just waiting to see Alexander waiting for you. But he was nowhere to be seen. Everyone stood there and waited for a while with you but eventually, you just told them to go in and that you would wait for a little while longer. Fred gave you an unsure glance but you just nodded at him telling him that it was ok. He squeezed your hand before he left, and George tossed you an encouraging smile. 

You stood there waiting for you don’t know how long. You had heard the songs change and by the third song, you knew he wasn’t coming. You could feel tears form in your eyes as you sat on the step. Too embarrassed to enter alone, you didn’t even want to know where he may be. He’s probably in there with another girl, or he just decided that he didn’t want to go with you anymore. 

Fred was anxiously waiting to see you walk in but he never did. It had been about 30 minutes and there was no sign of you, it’s like you were just gone. “Is she still not here?” George asked him. “No, she’s not, why is she not here?” he questioned his brother. “I don’t know mate-” Before he could finish Angelina spoke up. “Why don’t you check on her?” she told Fred. Fred looked down at her in uncertainty. “Are you sure?” he asked the girl. “I’m very sure, I think she may need you more than I do right now,” Angelina said and gave him a little shove toward the door. 

“I’ll see you guys later,” he said and made his way out to find you. 

As he exited the Great Hall he noticed Alexander with another girl. As much as he wanted to punch him, he could do that later. He needed to find you and find you fast. 

He came to the stairs expecting to see you but you were gone. You had disappeared from the area and so he ran up the steps in search of you. He didn’t even know when you left, and he was upset that you didn’t come to him. 

“(y/n)!” he called for you but got no answer. He ran down the hallways and up the stairs as fast as he could. He didn’t think you would’ve made it to the common room yet but he again didn’t know when you left. He finally got to the portrait and quickly spoke the password. He immediately stopped inside and heard muffled crying. His heart dropped at the sound knowing that it had to be you. 

He scanned the room and noticed you sitting by the fire with your head in your hands. His heart just kept breaking at the thought of you being hurt. He slowly made his way over to you. 

“(y/n),” he quietly called and your cries suddenly stopped. He noticed you trying to wipe your tears away as best as possible. “Oh, hi Freddie. What are you doing back so early?” you asked as you turned to smile at him. He could feel his chest get tight, seeing the mascara smudged around your eyes he gave you a sad smile before sitting next to you. 

“You never came in,” he said softly and reached over to take your hand in his. 

“Oh, yeah he uh- he didn’t show up, so I just thought it best that I came back,” you told him and he could tell you were trying not to cry again. Your bottom lip was wobbling and your eyes were glassy. “You could’ve come to me,” he said and placed his hand on your cheek. At his touch, your tears finally fell and you let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t want- I didn’t want to ruin your night,” you told him as your voice broke. “Oh, love, you wouldn’t have ruined my night,” He said and proceeded to wipe your tears as best as he could. “I was embarrassed, I didn’t want to humiliate myself so I just left,” you admitted to him and he sighed. “Me and Georgie wouldn’t have let you feel that way for long you know that,” he told you and you sadly nodded. “I know it’s silly to cry over someone like him, I just thought that maybe I’d get to have a nice night with someone,” you spoke softly and looked down at your hands. Tears clung to your lashes and spattered onto your cheeks and hands. 

“I guess I just wanted that experience,” you said quietly. “You can still have it,” he told you and you looked back up at him in confusion. “What do you mean?” you asked him. “Come to the ball with me,” he said and you looked at him in surprise. “I can’t, I’m a mess, and what about Angelina?” you fretted. “You’re beautiful, and Angelina was the one who told me to leave,” he explained to you. The look of surprise never left your face. “Even so, I can’t go back down there Freddie, not like this,” you told him. He got to his feet “Then stay here and dance with me,” he said and offered you his hand. “Are you sure you’d rather stay here with me?” you questioned him. “I’d rather be anywhere with you,” he told you and you blushed before taking his hand. He smiled at you, and helped you carefully off of the floor, making sure not to step on your dress. 

You stood fully and he placed his hands on your waist. You smiled softly up at him and shyly wound your arms around his neck. He smiled down at you and slowly began moving along to a song that only you could hear. “Did you know that I think you’re the most beautiful girl in this castle?” he asked you and you blushed even deeper. You shook your head and chuckled, “That’s not true, did you see Angelina and Alicia tonight, Hermione too? Now they’re beautiful,” you said. “Sure, they’re pretty but you, you’re beautiful,” he told you and lifted his hand to move a strand of hair from your face. 

“You’re just saying that 'cause you’re my best friend,” you tried to shrug it off. “I’m saying that because it’s true,” he affirmed. You shook your head with a shy smile. “Really?” you questioned. “Really,” he told you with a smile. He let you go to take hold of your hand. You let out an airy giggle as he twirled you a few times before pulling you back in. 

“You know, there’s something that just hit me all of a sudden yesterday. I had never realized how much I thought of you, how much I missed you when you weren’t around, and how much I really do love you,” he admitted. You felt your heart stop, and your breath got caught in your throat. “I love you (y/n),” he admitted to you and a feeling of disbelief washed over you. “You love me? You actually love me?” you questioned. He chuckled a bit at your reaction. “I do,” he said. 

“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember,” you confessed. He smiled broadly at you, “I guess I’m a little late to the party then,” he said and you chuckled. “Just a little, I mean your twin knew before you did,” you teased him and he rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright, no need to rub it in,” he said and you smiled at him. 

You just stopped and looked at him, really looked at him. His freckles and bright brown eyes, the curve of his lips, and the way he looked so lovingly at you. “I think this is the part where we kiss isn’t it?” he asked softly and you smiled even brighter. “I would think so,” you whispered as he got closer to you. 

He stopped for a moment just letting his lips brush yours before fully placing them on yours. You melted at the feeling of his lips pressed against yours, it was even better than you imagined it would be. It wasn’t rushed, it was slow and soft, and it was all the things a first kiss should be. 

He gently pulled away from you and smiled at the contentedness on your face. You looked peaceful, and he felt warm at the fact that he could bring that to you. He swore he had never felt that loved in his entire life. “Do you wanna know something?” you asked with a soft smile. “Of course,” he said and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You make me really happy,” you whispered and he smiled broadly. “I would hope so,” he said and you chuckled. 

He saw your smile falter a bit, “What’s wrong?” he questioned and placed a hand on your cheek. “What about Angelina? I feel so horrible,” you worried yourself. “Hey, hey, you don’t have to worry about that. It’s not like we’re dating you know. It was just a one-night thing, and I think she’d perfectly understand our situation love,” He told you and stroked your cheek gently. “You think so?” you asked and reached up to grasp his wrist. “I know for sure,” he said. 

He got a sudden realization, “wait is that what I did wrong?” he asked and you looked at him in confusion. “What?” you asked. “George said I had hurt your feelings twice, did me asking Angelina hurt your feelings?” he asked with a sly smile. A blush covered your cheeks and you quickly covered your face with your hands. He chuckled, “Aw, love, I’m sorry. If I had realized sooner I would’ve asked you,” he said and gently pried your hands from your face. “Do you forgive me?” he asked and pressed his forehead against yours. “There’s really nothing to forgive, but yes if that makes you feel better,” you smiled shyly at him. “Much better,” he said before leaning forward to kiss you one more time. 

“Ugh, took you long enough,” you heard a voice sound from behind you and you pulled away from him. George, Alicia, and Angelina stood there with knowing smiles. “Took you forever to figure it out didn’t it?” Angelina asked while she and Alicia chuckled. “You didn’t figure it out until a few hours ago Ange,” Alicia said and everyone chuckled. “Took you longer than me,” Fred said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Ok, when did this become an attack on me?” Angelina asked and you chuckled. “It’s ok Angelina, I’m sorry if I ruined your night,” you said regretfully. “You didn't ruin anything, I’m just glad that you’re ok,” she said and smiled at you, and you smiled back. “I think we’re all going to turn in for the night, goodnight everyone,” Alicia said and gave a smile and a wave before walking up the stairs followed closely by Angelina. You walked over to George and wrapped him in a hug, “Thanks for caring so much Georgie,” you said and he held you tighter. “I’ll always care,” he said and kissed your head before saying goodnight to you and his brother. 

He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. “Do we have to say goodnight?” he asked and nuzzled his nose against your neck. His cheek was warm against your bare shoulder and it made you grin, you almost felt dizzy from disbelief that this was actually happening. “We don’t have to, but I’d rather not stay in this dress all night,” you told him and felt him smile against your shoulder. “You can take it off if you want to, do you need any help?” he asked and you chuckled before swatting his arm. “No, I don’t need any help, but a kiss before I go should speed up the process,” you told him and he turned you around to face him. You smiled toothily and it made him grin. “I’ll meet you back here in ten,” he said and leaned down to kiss you again before letting you go. 

You spent the rest of the night with Fred, sharing kisses and laughing. He danced with you and you got dizzy from how much he’d spin you. 

The morning came and you made your way down to the Great Hall with Hermione and Ginny. “I’m so happy for you (y/n), it took him ages but he finally sorted it out,” Hermione said and you chuckled. “You’re practically my sister now,” Ginny said, looping her arm through yours. You smiled down at her and squeezed her arm happily. 

You entered the Great Hall to see your spot open just as it should be, right next to Fred. You all walked over and took your spots. “Good morning everyone,” you smiled happily. 

“Well, good morning to you too darling. Why so chipper?” He asked and turned to you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You, of course,” you told him and he smiled even brighter. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your head. “I love you (y/n),” he told you and you smiled up at him. “I love you too, Freddie,” 

[aycius]

JJK MEN AS DADS !‧₊˚

feat. satoru gojo, nanami kento, & toji fushiguro

SATORU GOJO

literally the kids’ best friends. satoru’s parents weren’t necessarily the most active in his life so he made it a goal to have children with someone he genuinely loved — you. he is such a supportive dad and tends to overindulge in his children’s interest… one of those dads that buys boxes of mangos just because their child said they liked mangos. they wanna learn how to play a sport? satoru’s already got multiple personal trainers in his contacts to make sure your children have the best form of education when it comes to said sport. you thought satoru was playful before? oh, when he’s with his children, he’s even worse. tag, hide and seek, tic tac toe, satoru’s allowing the kids to stay up LATE, because he’s not giving up until he wins one of those games. you argue that the kids are still young, and satoru should be the bigger person and allow the kids to win but satoru isn’t hearing NONE of that. def the type to let the kids stay home just because they said they’re feeling “sick.” you kinda had to step in at a point because the kids got on and started lying just to stay home. regardless, this man loves his kids and is willing to do anything to ensure that they, as well as his lovely wife, you, live a happy and comfortable life. one time after a long family trip, you and satoru were settled in your room while the kids were asleep and he started getting emotional because he genuinely wondered what he could have done to deserve such a loving family :(( poor baby. underneath the playful facade he puts on for the kids, he just wants to make sure they never doubt that their father loves them. you always reassure him that you and the kisses are blessed to have a husband and a father like him.

NANAMI KENTO

you and his daughter are the light of his life. there’s no place he’d rather be than home. he loves it here. he has a portrait of you and his daughter playing in the backyard at his office and always looks at it to cheer him up when he’s having a bad day. recently, your daughter has been clinging and missing him more and she absolutely hates it when kento leaves. your daughter literally takes your phone to text nanami and is constantly checking up on him at work. it’s one of the things he looks most forward to when going to work. he also loves facetiming her when he’s on break because she is always asking for nanami at home and he feels so bad.. always reads her a bedtime story before kissing her forehead and tucking her in goodnight. you and nanami recently started doing road-trips every summer to the beach because your daughter has had a recent infatuation with fish. after a long day at the beach, you, him, and your daughter walk on the boardwalk as nanami carries the little one in his arms, your hand in his as you all admire how pretty the beach is at night. it’s so sweet because nanami loved the beach growing up. the fact that he has the opportunity to go with his new family now, he couldn’t be more grateful. never fails to tell you and your daughter that he loves the both of you more than anything in life. you guys are his purpose and motivation.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

… ok so i’m sure we’ve seen how he has been as a father but—hear me out! toji loves you and his kid severely. toji has always been one to not wear his heart on his sleeve and guard himself but he’s been working really hard, and constantly does, so he can be the best husband and father for his child. although toji is seen as this tough guy in front of others, he has the softest spot for his child. everyday when he comes home from work, his face instantly lights up when he sees his little kid run up to him and give him the biggest hug. scoops the kid in his arm and kisses them on the cheek while he talks about how much he missed the child. he’s def the type of dad to enroll their kid in a sport, and for some reason i can see him being a serious soccer dad. like that man does NOT play. the type of dad to get really loud on the bleachers if another kid on the opposite team LOOKS at his kid the wrong way. constantly makes bets with his kid that if they score a goal he’ll them candy and you’re just like… ykw i’ll let them handle this. you’re just happy to be there tbh. i can imagine toji being the coach to your kid’s traveling team, so weekends are always full of road-trips to the destination where they’re playing at. teaches his kid discipline and respect at a very young age. sometimes he can be a bit tough and you know it’s out of love but sometimes you do have to step in. truly, toji means no harm—he was just brought up roughly in his household. toji parents weren’t the best either so everyday he’s happy that you’re there as a guide to him so he can be the best father possible.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE NEVER BEFORE

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: your patience is thinning. despite having a conversation with dazai and being led to believe everything is okay, he's suddenly avoiding you again. luckily, or maybe unluckily, his hand is forced when he realizes that you're not waiting for him this time. whether he likes it or not, this confrontation is happening—except you slowly realize as it goes on that dazai's definition of intimacy is dreadfully different from yours.

{wordcount: 10.4k; ņsfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, i wouldn't say this is angst but it does deal with some references to heavy topics; jealous!dazai, depictions of dissociation (dazai), dazai's on the brink of a mental breakdown for a bit in the beginning, references to abuse (dazai. no actual depictions), references to dubcon (dazai. no actual depictions), dazai is wildly intelligent but not so much when it comes to sex & other forms of intimacy (he is quite uneducated in fact), slight oral (male rec), unprotected sex, sub!dazai, dazai and reader argue for a bit (he calls her a whore - doesn't mean it but still says it)}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: 😒i hope you guys know im sitting here glaring at my computer because i did not want to post this fic. it's been sitting in my google drive for like AGES and im literally having to physically force myself into formatting this post because i wanted to keep it hoarded forever. anyway, read the warnings for this one pretty pls, this fic is a bit loaded—not exactly angst, but it references some heavy topics. let me know if any warnings are missing as always!

“I’m so sick and tired of him.”

You listen as Chuuya lets out another heavy sigh next to you, pointedly taking a sip of his wine, but you don’t even bother to glance at him as you glare down at your phone. Left on read, again, Dazai ignores your message asking him to meet you and Chuuya at the bar. You slam your phone down on the dark wood of the bar top before reaching for your own glass, taking a large gulp of it before opening your mouth to continue complaining, much to Chuuya’s displeasure.

“I thought things would be different after we talked. He moved back into my apartment but he’s still avoiding me like the fucking plague. I mean Christ, I broke up with my boyfriend, came crawling back to him because I knew he was pissed even though he’d rather kill himself—literally—than admit he likes me. Why the fuck can’t he even given an inch? Meet me halfway?” 

“Because he’s Dazai,” Chuuya says dryly. “What did you expect from him, honestly? … And we all know you weren’t going to stick with that civilian.”

“Oh, shut up,” you tell him bitterly. “That’s not the point. The point is I did, and I went right to him, and we talked, and he acted like everything was fine, and now he’s pulling this shit. How is he going to live in my fucking apartment and avoid me at every corner? And whenever I do manage to catch him, he makes up some bullshit excuse about a mission I know he doesn’t have and disappears.”

You lean back in your chair, brows furrowed and fingers curled around your glass. By now, all of the people that had been sitting near the two of you at the bar have dispersed to the dancefloor—if your arrival with Chuuya hadn’t been enough to send them scattering, your foul mood was more than enough to make them give you a wide berth.

“I’m frustrated,” you finally hiss. “I’m just frustrated, am I allowed to be frustrated, Chuuya?”

Chuuya side-eyes you. “Stop fuckin’ complaining to me about it and do something about it, jeez,” he says, hand sliding into his pocket to pull out a cigarette, holding it between his lips as he fumbles for a lighter to light it.

“Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?” you ask, becoming increasingly more irritated as you pull out your own lighter to light it for him. “I tried talking to him, now he’s ignoring me.”

Chuuya has the audacity to roll his eyes, looking at you with an unimpressed expression that makes you want to pluck his cigarette out of his mouth and put it out on his skin. As if he can hear your thoughts, he leans back, giving you a suspicious look.

“I’m not talking about that shithead,” Chuuya drawls. “If you’re so frustrated, go find some sorry bastard to fuck it out of you. We both know that’s all it takes to get you to settle down.”

“Fuck you,” you say instantly, not appreciating how he acts like you’re a nympho. But already, your gaze is carding across the room, trying to see if someone catches your eye. When you find yourself disappointed, you look back at him and ask, “You offering yourself up?”

Chuuya barks out a laugh. “Fuck no,” he tells you instantly. “No way. Don’t even say that shit to me.”

You’re almost offended, squinting at him and leaning back in your seat. “Why not? Like old times. You know what I like, I know what you like, we can make a good night out of it,” you propose as you lean your elbow on the bartop and observe him.

“Because shitty Dazai will never let me hear the end of it if he finds out,” Chuuya says pointedly, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Bastard is annoying as is, if he finds out I’ve slept with you? It’d be the end of the world.”

“You have slept with me though, Chuuya,” you taunt. “Who’s to say I won’t tell him anyway?”

You won’t, but you like the way Chuuya’s lip curls up in irritation around his cigarette.

“Go ahead,” he tells you. “I’ll tell him all about that time in Osaka.”

You gasp, scandalized. “Chuuya,” you hiss. “You would not. You swore.”

“Try me,” Chuuya says, raising his eyebrows at you, looking all too smug as you flounder for a response.

Humbled, and a bit mortified, you return to looking around the club, lowering your standards this time. You spot a blonde standing in the corner of the club, eyes flitting around curiously as he observes the people on the dancefloor, and a redhead laughing wildly as she spins with a drink in hand, teetering off to the edge of the floor. You purse your lips.

“No one is catching my attention,” you complain, sinking back down in your seat.

You decidedly don’t like the smirk that edges onto his lips as he looks at you, and it’s for good reason, because the next words out of his mouth have your eye twitching: “You’re that down bad for him already? Jesus.”

“I am not,” you spit out, glaring at him before pointedly returning to your hunt, looking around more intensely this time. 

But even as you do that, you start to wonder if that’s why no one is standing out to you tonight. How the fuck is anyone supposed to compare to Dazai Osamu? The thought is ridiculous—you don’t want to tug at blonde hair to pull someone down into a kiss, you don’t want a head of tousled red locks buried between your thighs, there’s only one person you actually want in your bed and he’s been avoiding you since you talked things out with him.

You let out a heavy sigh, considering just admitting defeat, but then your eyes drift to a tall, dark haired man entering the club, making his way over to the bar; his hair is a bit too long and a bit too straight, and his eyes aren’t the right shade, but they’re sharp enough and you’re tipsy enough to willfully confuse them for the familiar brown you desire.

“Nevermind,” you breathe out. Chuuya doesn’t even spare you a goodbye as you slip from your seat to make your way over to the man, lifting his hand in a lazy wave. “I found someone.”

Chuuya was right.

You think maybe you should stop doubting him as much as you do. This is not the first time that you’ve fought him tooth and nail about something only for him to be proven right in the end. But you’re not going to tell him that because he has a big enough ego and you’re not going to feed into it.

Dealing with Dazai’s fickleness the past two weeks has been much easier now that you’re fucking out your frustrations with strangers as soon as he’s gone for the night on whatever mission Mori assigns him. You take his aloofness in stride, ignoring the way he blows you off and avoids you in your own home. You think it’s bothering him, actually, because now when you walk past him without a second glance, you can see the way he hesitates from the corner of your eye, an indecipherable expression crossing over his face.

Good, you think. You hope he feels like shit. 

You let out a soft breath as you tilt your head to the side, giving the man you’re with better access. From the corner of your eye, with the tousled brown hair, you can almost pretend it’s him, but you know it’s not. His hair isn’t as soft as Dazai’s, who all but hijacked your expensive shampoos and conditioners, and you can’t feel the bandages that should be tucked beneath the tufts of hair. Your mind starts to drift, comparing how you think Dazai’s touch would be to this man’s. When you first kissed him, he was unsure and hesitant, would he still be now? Or has he grown more confident? You think he must’ve, you’ve seen him with people during events, lips tilted up in a sensual smile, lashes fluttering as he leads them into one of the backrooms. 

Sick and unfair, you think to yourself bitterly.

You let out a heavy, disappointed sigh.

“You good?” the man asks—you don’t remember his name, you don’t even know if you cared to ask. His voice is distinctly different from Dazai’s low hum whenever he teases you, a total immersion-break from your desired reality.

You roll your eyes, irritated. “Don’t speak.”

The man lets out a noise of agreement, fingers biting a bit harder into your waist as he continues kissing down your neck. You don’t really mind, the sting is nice, just enough force to draw your mind away from Dazai. The sigh you let out is more pleased now, eyes slipping shut as his hands slide up your body, kisses trailing down your neck to your collarbone. His lips are too soft; Dazai’s are horribly chapped no matter how much chapstick you force on him.

Dazai is out on another “mission”. You don’t even know if it’s a real mission or if he’s just claiming it’s a mission so he doesn’t have to stick around the apartment while you’re there, lowering the chances of running into you. For all you know, he’s just going back to that shitty shipping container he spent a year in and hanging out there until you leave for one of your own missions or a meeting. He looked particularly sullen as he left earlier, casting looks back to where you’d disappeared into the kitchen, not realizing you could still see him before he finally left your apartment. 

He’s such a pain in the ass, you think, getting irate again as he drifts back into your thoughts. He makes everything so difficult, things would be so much easier he just admitted that he wanted to be with you. You really don’t know how much more of this back and forth, wishy-washy shit you can take from him. You care about Dazai. You do. Probably more than anyone else in your life and you’re sick of him taking it for granted. 

You hum in approval when the man lifts his hands to your button-up, hesitating as he waits for your consent, and your gaze flicks up to the ceiling as he continues kissing down the revealed skin; from the crook of your neck to your collarbone, between your breasts, he unbuttons all the way to your navel.

You find yourself a bit bored, counting the specks on the ceiling, taking note of the crack that you’re sure is somehow Dazai’s fault. You think there must only be two more buttons left for him to undo before you can slide the shirt off of your shoulders but you start to feel uncomfortable under his touch, you feel prickly and his lips trailing down your body makes your skin crawl.

“Off,” you finally say, voice sharp. You press your hand against his shoulder to push him off of you, sitting up straight to sit properly on the couch. You scowl as you fumble through your pants pockets to find a cigarette.

This is Dazai’s fault somehow.

“Did I do something wrong?” the man asks hesitantly, trying to shift closer to you again. “I-”

“No,” you say bluntly, lighting the cigarette and lifting it to your lips. “Get out of my apartment.”

The man hesitates, you can feel his eyes lingering on you and you’re becoming increasingly more irritated, shooting him a glare from the corner of your eye until he finally rises to his feet, buttoning his shirt as he makes his way over to the elevator. You slump back against the couch, sighing as you look up at the ceiling and take a long drag from your cigarette.

Dazai’s fault. As soon as he crossed your mind, your whole demeanor had changed and you try to convince yourself that it’s because you just don’t know what his issue is. You don’t know why he’s avoiding you, you don’t know what changed after you met with him at the bar; you thought things would be good between the two of you. You thought you’d be able to be with him now that nothing’s left in your way but evidently there still is something preventing the two of you from being together and it’s something that Dazai is not sharing with you.

Bastard, you think bitterly, about to pull out your phone to send Chuuya a very irritated and very foul message about Dazai but before you can, the elevator leading up to your floor bings and you look up to watch the man you’d invited over leave.

Except as the doors slide open, you realize that someone is already standing in there.

You sit up straight when you see Dazai standing in the elevator, black gaze trained right on the man leaving your apartment. His movements are almost robotic as he steps out of the elevator, his head twisting to follow the man as he steps in the elevator. He looks distinctly unnerved as Dazai’s soulless gaze tracking him until the elevator doors slide back shut.

It’s only then that Dazai only turns to look at you. His face is eerily void of emotion as he looks at you, gaze dipping down to your unbuttoned shirt and the light bruises blooming on your neck and collarbone. You tilt your head to the side as you observe him, wondering if he’s going to say something, but he only stands there staring at you.

“I thought you had a mission,” you finally say, leaning forward to put your cigarette out on the ashtray on the coffee table to button up your shirt half way so you’re not nearly undressed. When you finish, you pick up your glass of wine and take a sip. “You’re back early.” 

“I finished early,” Dazai replies, monotonic. 

He doesn’t budge from where he’s standing, limbs stiff and face blank. You glance down, noticing that he’s holding something in his right hand—a bag, takeout, maybe? Looks like it’s from that place in Hodogaya-ku that you like. 

“What’s that?” you ask, nodding toward the bag. Dazai follows your gaze down to it, staring at it as if he doesn’t even know what it is. You frown, becoming a bit concerned as you rise to your feet. “Dazai, you good?”

Dazai’s gaze doesn’t leave the bag for a second; after what feels like an eternity, he finally looks back up at you but he doesn’t even seem to be looking at you, rather it feels like he’s looking through you like you’re not even there.

“I got food,” he says blankly.

Your eyes widen a bit, wondering if this is meant to be his apology for being an asshole the past few weeks. Dazai never apologizes—he disappears until he can act like nothing happened or he does something to make up for what he did, but he doesn’t ever acknowledge what he did. It’s frustrating, but you’ve gotten used to his quirks over the years. You’d been wondering why he seemed so melancholic before he left.

You nod at the spot next to you on the couch, accepting the apology and sitting back down. “I’ll put on a movie.”

Dazai looks at the spot like it’s been poisoned, expression finally twisting from the emptiness into one of disgust.

“What?” you demand, offended.

Dazai doesn’t even respond to you; you can only stare in disbelief as he turns on his heel and walks in the direction of the kitchen. You don’t budge for a second, staring in shock to where he disappeared to, but after a few moments, you force yourself up to your feet and follow after him.

Your mind races as you make your way down the short hall into the kitchen, standing in the door frame as you watch him put the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter, pulling the different containers out of the bag and then opening the fridge. His movements are stiff and abrupt, almost robotic, and your irritation slips away when you see the expression on his face.

Closed-off. Withdrawn. Very reminiscent of the look on his face from that time he came back to your apartment after a mission that went wrong post-Dragon’s head Conflict, right before he had his first breakdown in front of you. He’d been trying to hold it all back, desperate to not lose control in front of you, but it was to no avail because it only made it worse.

“Dazai, what’s wrong?” you ask carefully as he stuffs another container into the fridge, so roughly that the plastic almost snaps. “Dazai-”

“Nothing,” Dazai responds sharply, voice cold and cutting but the way he takes in a sharp, shaky breath betrays him. “Nothing is wrong. Nothing.”

“Okay, that’s a lie,” you say flatly, sighing to yourself. “Can you just-”

“You’re the liar,” Dazai cuts you off, voice shrill and defensive in a way you’ve never heard from him before. Something crosses his face: a weird mixture of panic, anger and distress, like he knows he’s losing control of his emotions but he can’t stop himself. You don’t usually have such a hard time reading Dazai—it’s difficult, yes, but not as impossible as it currently is. It’s stressing you out because you don’t know what’s wrong and he’s clearly working himself up more over it. “You’re the liar. You’re the liar.”

Your eye twitches. Three breaths in and three breaths out. Now’s really not the time for you to lose your temper on him considering he’s on the brink of a mental breakdown for whatever reason. But you’re pissed, you don’t know why he’s calling you a liar and you don’t know what is going on, and you don’t want to deal with this especially after he just spent weeks ignoring and avoiding you.

“What did I lie about, Dazai?” you ask tightly, nails digging into your palms as you wait for a response. “Please, enlighten me.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, jaw tightening as he resumes tossing the food into the fridge.

“Dazai, stop,” you tell him, taking a step forward when he finally gets to the bottom of the takeout bag and slams the fridge shut so hard that it rattles. He grabs the empty bag and is about to storm over to the garbage can but before he can, you reach forward and grab his wrist, stopping him. “Will you fucking talk to me?”

“Let go,” Dazai hisses, trying to rip his arm from your hold but your fingers are too tight around his wrist, his bandages rough against the pads of your fingers—you don’t know why he’s still using those old scratchy ones when you stocked up with the softer ones but it only serves to irritate you more because why are you going out of your way to do nice things for him if he’s just going to toss it to the side? “Let go of me.”

“Tell me what your issue is,” you demand. “I’m done playing games with you, Dazai. Grow the fuck up and communicate.”

Dazai’s eye is wide and wild, looking far too much like a cornered animal as he bares his teeth at you and tries to yank out of your hold on him again. “My issue is that you’re a whore,” he spits out. “Let go of me. Now.”

You let go of him.

Instantly, the anger in Dazai’s face fizzles away. His eye is just as wide but his expression is lax, lips parted as if he’s only now just registering what he said. And you know he regrets it, you know that Dazai lashes out when he feels cornered; he becomes cruel and vicious, desperate in his attempts to protect himself when he feels vulnerable and since Dazai is Dazai, he knows how to hurt people. Knows exactly where the chinks in your armor are, drives the dagger in deep and twists it.

But even knowing this, it still hurts hearing that from him of all people.

“Okay.”

Your voice is quiet, you don’t even waste a second before turning on your heel and leaving the kitchen.

“Wait,” Dazai calls after you, voice wavering. “Wait, I didn’t…”

He can’t even finish the sentence because Dazai is Dazai and he doesn’t apologize and he doesn’t admit his wrongs. Doesn’t admit that he lost control and said something he didn’t mean to say. Would rather preserve his false visage of control than do anything like that.

“Where are you going?” Dazai asks and you can hear him trailing after you, words drawn long and shaky. “Hey, wait-”

You don’t know where you’re going. Leaving your apartment, you think, considering your feet are moving right to the elevator, but once you leave the building? You’re not sure. Maybe you’ll head over to Chuuya’s and crash at his apartment for the night, maybe you’ll go get shit-faced at a bar. You don’t really care, you just don’t want to be anywhere near Dazai right now. He’s put you through enough the past few weeks for you to stand here and take this shit from him. 

“I don’t know, Dazai,” you say, voice cold and sharp. “Maybe I’ll go find that guy I kicked out and finish the job if I’m such a whore.”

Dazai inhales sharply from behind you. “What?” he breathes out. “No. No. I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what?” you scoff, not even looking back at him. “Didn’t mean it? You can’t even bring yourself to say it, Dazai. Clearly you did.”

That’s not true, you know it’s only Dazai’s pride that prevents him from forcing those words out, but you know it makes him flinch and you know it makes him hesitate. You also know how to target chinks in armor.

“No,” Dazai tries again, more insistent this time. You can hear him speeding up behind you when he realizes you’re going for the elevator. “No, you don’t need to do that. I don’t-I don’t get you. I don’t get this. I don’t get any of this.”

He sounds confused, borderline distressed—you don’t even know what he’s talking about, what he’s so confused and distressed about. How could you? He never explains anything to you, never communicates.

“You don’t get what?” you demand, reaching out for the button of the elevator but Dazai lunges forward to grab your wrist before you can. You finally turn to look at him, catching the way his jaw is tight and the strange emotion swimming in his eye. “You don’t get what, Dazai? Spit it out.”

“Why are you still sleeping with other people?” he asks, voice hitching. “You have me. You don’t need anyone else.”

You can’t help yourself—you laugh in Dazai’s face.

“No way,” you say immediately.

You don’t mean it in the way it comes out. You know it comes out as if you’re saying you’d never sleep with him, but you’re more so saying no way because you can’t believe he has the audacity to say this to you after he just spent weeks avoiding and ignoring you. 

Is this what his issue is? He doesn’t know how to cope with emotions so he evades and lashes out and just expects you to stick around waiting until he grows up? Fuck him. You deserve better than that, you waited long enough, you thought you were done with these games with him.

You don’t miss the way Dazai’s expression crumbles at your words, the way he stares at you, lips parted in disbelief. You don’t correct yourself, a part of you is happy that you can get your own knife in even if you do know you’ll regret it later. 

“What do you mean no?” Dazai’s voice wobbles a bit before he takes half a step back. His fingers are weak around your wrist but he doesn’t let go, feels a lot like a child clinging to their parent’s shirt. “What-I-I’m here. You want it, you were just going to-”

Not that that’s even the issue anymore, but you’re definitely not in the mood now. Honestly, you just want to go to bed. Your head hurts and Dazai is stressing you out and pissing you off all at the same time, plus you have no interest in fucking him when he seems like he’s on the verge of a mental break anyway.

“No, I don’t. I changed my mind,” you say, frustrated. “I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”

“No,” Dazai replies, voice pitched and tinged with something too close to desperation. “No. You want me and I’m here, so you should-”

God, what the fuck is your life? You’re so frustrated that you want to pull your hair out and scream at him.

“Enough, Dazai.” You raise your voice at him. “Enough. I don’t want you. I want to go to bed.”

“No,” Dazai insists and your eyes widen when you feel his grip tighten on your wrist.

“Daz-” You start to say but you can’t even finish his name, cut off by his other hand finding its way to your hip, pressing you back against the closed doors of the elevator as he dips his head down to capture your lips with his own, swallowing your protest before you can even get it out. 

You think absently that you were right earlier when you were letting your thoughts wander to what kissing Dazai would be like. He’s no longer unsure and hesitant with his touches, his lips slide against yours with the expertise of someone who’s spent a lifetime kissing. The hand on your hip slides up your body so that he can hold your jaw, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. And you shouldn’t be indulging this, you know that—Dazai pissed you off, he has some nerve calling you a whore and then whoring himself out to you—but his lips are intoxicating, you can hardly think straight with them pressed against yours. 

He has your right hand pinned to the metal behind you, fingers curled tight around your wrist as he holds you in place. The way he kisses you is familiar, almost, and your brows furrow as you try to figure out why until feel his fingers brush through your hair, slow and lingering, dizzying, right before his tongue darts out to swipe across your bottom lip—a pattern of actions that you usually take to make your partners more malleable. 

Did he teach himself this just by observing the way you act with people at events?

You don’t fall for your own tricks though, so instead, your free hand drops to his waist, fingers slipping through his belt loops as you press into him, pushing off the elevator to walk him backwards down the hall to his bedroom. He lets out a surprised noise in the back of his throat, letting you walk him back; his fingers fall from where they’d been around your wrist and you take the opportunity to hook yours around his other belt loop, keeping his body flush to yours until you have his back pressed against his bedroom door.

You notice, a bit absently, that Dazai is a lot more pliant now with you in control. His hands are loose at his sides as if he doesn’t know what to do with them—much like when you shared his first kiss with him—and he still kisses you back, lips moving slowly against yours, but it’s not with the intensity he had when you were pinned to the elevator door.

Strange.

You think kissing Dazai is a lot like a drug, one that you got your first hit of two years ago when you offered to be his first kiss but then never had another chance to get another taste of. You were bitter when he first started following in yours and Chuuya’s footsteps in taking people to bed to unwittingly ease information out of them—you’d find yourself watching him like a hawk as he drew people into secluded corners, as he pressed his lips against theirs and let their hands explore his body. You’d hardly be able to draw your eyes away once, not until he eventually led them out of the area to a bedroom.

You hated it. Truly. You like to tell yourself that you’re not jealous but you know it’s a blatant lie. As much as people would sell their souls to spend a night with you, they’d be just as desperate for one with Dazai because Dazai is Dazai. He’s untouchable. The Demon Prodigy. The Port Mafia’s Black Wraith. The youngest executive in history. He can be smooth and charming, yes, and he’s undoubtedly handsome. But more than that, he’s dark and unfathomable in a way that piques peoples’ interest in a sick and perverted fashion—they want to know what he’s like behind closed doors, they’re terrified of him but they want him, be it because of morbid curiosity or sheer lust.

And you hated that other people got to be with him in ways you couldn’t. Your only consolation seems to be that he had his eyes on you as much as you had yours on him, seeing how he’s pretty much perfectly mimicking the way you kiss and touch people, but you don’t know if that’s just because he was trying to learn through observing you—as he does with everyone—or if he hated watching you with other people just as much-

Oh.

Oh, you’re so stupid.

“You were jealous,” you realize, understanding what had triggered Dazai’s meltdown with the takeout food and insults toward you. Dazai stiffens against the door and you take the opportunity to trail your lips from his down to his jaw. “You were jealous over the guy I had over.”

“No-”

“You were.” You don’t even let him finish the protest, nipping at the spot beneath his ear gently and watching how he shudders. “How cute.”

“It’s not cute.” Dazai bristles. “You-you weren’t supposed-you’re not supposed to keep seeing people. I thought you were done with that. I thought we were-”

“We were what?” you ask coolly. “You avoided me for weeks after we talked, Dazai. Whatever we may or may not have been after we talked at the bar, it’s nothing when you start actively ignoring me for weeks after that.”

“But-”

You’re getting irritated again. “Dazai, you ignored me for weeks. I was pissed off and frustrated. And when I’m pissed off and frustrated, if I don’t have some way to relieve my stress, I do something stupid. Something stupid like putting a bullet in you the next time you stepped into my apartment after actively going out of your way to avoid me.”

“I was going out to get food,” Dazai says sullenly as if you were supposed to know that. “So we could watch a movie.”

“Last I recall, telepathy isn’t exactly part of my ability, Dazai,” you say dryly, calming yourself down by leaning in to brush your lips against his again.

A drug, you think again as the anger melts away when you feel his breath hitch against your lips. You reach behind him to open his bedroom door, guiding him in as you kiss him slowly. He’s fumbling again, unsure what to do with his fingers, clumsily moving his lips against yours until the back of his knees hits the bed, and he goes flopping down back on it. 

You snort at the surprised look on his face, joining him on the bed as you straddle his hips. You hover over him for a second before leaning down to give him another chaste kiss, enjoying the way he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.

“Tell me why you were avoiding me,” you say quietly as you lift a hand to cup his cheek. 

A foul move, you know. Dazai is always weak to gentle touches as much as he tries to pretend otherwise. You’ve noticed it when you watch movies with him and when he curls into bed with you on nights he can’t sleep. Just as you expect, he leans into your touch, lashes fluttering.

“Dazai,” you urge, “tell me why. What did I do?”

You didn’t do anything, you think bitterly, but you figure taking responsibility will be the easiest way to get him talking. You’ll fight about it later.

Dazai, to your surprise, turns his face away from you and your touch, a faraway look in his eye as he stares at the wall.

“You didn’t do anything,” he says. “I just didn’t-”

He cuts himself as if he can’t even bring himself to say it, and you know you have to do something because he seems to be withdrawing even more into his own head, eyes growing more distant with each passing second. You turn his head so that he’s facing you again and you lean down to press your lips briefly against his.

“You didn’t what?” you ask him.

Dazai still looks like he doesn’t want to answer, conflict spreading across his face as he stares up at you before he sighs and averts his gaze. “I don’t understand any of this. I didn’t want to disappoint,” he says so quietly that you barely hear him.

Your brows furrow. 

“Disappoint?” you question, a bit baffled. Dazai has a complex about failure. You know that too, have known it since you were sixteen. He can’t handle it, nothing makes him spiral quite like the idea of failure—you and he are quite similar in that regard—but you don’t understand what he means in this context. “Disappoint with what?”

Dazai doesn’t answer, doesn’t meet your eyes either, and your mind races to figure out what he might be referring to. You recall how he became hesitant and unsure when you finally took control, fingers twitching at his sides, body pliant as you moved him around, almost like a doll for you to maneuver as you pleased.

“Disappoint with this?” you finally realize, watching as he grimaces, confirming your suspicions. Your chest drops. “You avoided me because… you didn’t want to have sex?”

That makes you feel a bit sick to your stomach because what does he think of you if he went to this length to avoid you just because… Dazai’s entire body jolts at your words as if realizing how they came across.

“No,” he pushes out instantly. His hands dart out to cling to your shirt as if he’s worried you’re going to leave. “No, no. I want to. I do. Not just this… just in general. Everything. Me… This is just one part of it… the easiest to make mistakes with. I don’t like making mistakes.”

It’s only mildly reassuring.

“Dazai…” You start to say, pulling away, but his hands dart up to grab your waist so he can hold you in place on top of him. You think maybe the two of you need to talk. Again. “I just, I don’t understand.”

“I want this,” he repeats again, hands sliding down from your waist to curl his fingers around the hem of your shirt. He sees that you’re not convinced by his words so he pushes out a “Please” that nearly stops you in your tracks because you don’t think Dazai Osamu has ever begged for anything in his life.

You lean down to press your lips against his again. You set the pace this time, lifting your hand to cup his cheek—you pull the same move that he tried with you, nails gently scraping his scalp as you brush your fingers through his hair. Dazai melts into it in a way that you didn’t, lashes fluttering and lips parting instinctively, letting you deepen the kiss. Dazai’s breath catches as you push your tongue into his mouth, shivering when you trace the back of his teeth. 

Too pliant. All of the confidence he had earlier when he had you pinned to the elevator is gone. His breath wavers against your lips, and his fingers tremble as he grips at the hem of your button-up. Not a firm grip like you’d have anticipated, with his fingers digging into the plush skin of your hips as he grinds you down on his cock; instead, his fingers are clinging to the fabric as if he’s too overwhelmed to even think of grabbing your body.

“Tell me what you like,” you say quietly, fingers still absently carding through his dark locks as you kiss down his neck. Your other hand slips beneath his dress shirt, smoothing out over the bandages wrapped around his torso. “I want to know, wanna make you feel good.”

Dazai’s lips part to respond to you, but the only thing that escapes them is a pitched gasp—high and cracking in desperation, grip on your shirt so tight that you think he might rip it. He’s already hard, can feel his cock straining against his black pants, pressed against your thigh.

“I don’t-” Dazai’s voice is ragged; he sounds overwhelmed, almost confused. “I don’t know.”

“Hm?” you prod, nipping his neck and relishing in the way his whole body shudders at the feeling. “C’mon, Dazai, you’ve done this before. Tell me what you like.”

His gasp is choked when your hand tightens on his slim waist, lashes fluttering as his eyes roll back. More pliant and more sensitive, you note curiously, kissing back up his neck to tug at his earlobe with your teeth, a shiver running down your spine at the broken moan Dazai lets out into your ear. He jolts, eyes widening and face flushing—he looks as if he’s startled himself by the noise that escaped his lips, and you start to become a bit suspicious.

“I don’t know,” he tells you, sounding confused and frustrated. “I don’t know. It’s never felt like this before. How are you doing that?”

You pause.

You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, pulling your face back from his ear to look at him carefully because why is he acting like he’s never done this before? You know he’s slept around a lot. He picked it up over half a year ago when he got tired of hearing you and Chuuya brag about how easy it is to get things out of people like this. Made a point of making sure you knew about it when you had your boyfriend.

It’s never felt like this before.

Your chest swirls, and you feel a bit disconcerted as his words finally process. It’s never felt like what? Dazai doesn’t know why you’ve stopped, you can feel him tugging at your shirt, hazy eyes trying to focus on you. You wonder if the gears in his head are turning, realizing something might be wrong but unable to pinpoint what.

You kiss him to distract him, deeper this time. You press his head back against the soft pillow, one hand sliding to cradle the back of it as you try to break all of the quick-moving cogs in his brain so you can think in peace, cursing the fact that his mind has always been quicker and sharper than yours.

Dazai is Dazai. He’s smooth, charming—when he wants to, he could seduce anyone into his bed. You’ve watched him do it at events, sidling up close and leaning in to speak to people, dark eye lidded and voice low, a slow smirk curling at his lip as he brushes his finger lightly against the target’s lower back before guiding them out of the room. Christ, he’s nearly flustered you on more than one account. You want to say that he’s not the same kid who was nervous to kiss you two years ago, but he clearly is with how he’s reacting to your kisses and touches right now. But he shouldn’t be—maybe it’s because it’s you he’s with, maybe he’s just nervous because it’s you and not some random person he’s seducing for information.

But that doesn't explain the comment. Doesn’t explain it’s never felt like this before. 

“Never felt like what?” you ask as you kiss the corner of his lips and down his jaw again, all the way to the line of bandages peeking out from his dress shirt. You undo the first few buttons, watching the way his chest rapidly rises and falls under your touch as you smooth your hands over his chest. “Hm?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Dazai says, voice cracking and another breathy sound spilling from his lips as you kiss the underside of his jaw. “It’s just-it’s usually just-it’s not this.”

That doesn’t help you at all, you think. You’re about to press, but your lips on his skin have evidently made Dazai’s lips looser than they typically are because you don’t even have to voice a clarifying question to get him talking again.

“The way you’re touching me. Kissing me. It’s not like this, doesn’t feel so good,” he continues and you can hear the whine building in the back of his throat as he speaks. “It’s just sex.”

You slide his button-up off of his shoulders, revealing his bandaged body to you. You don’t make any move to remove them, but now you stare down at him, a bit perplexed. “This is sex,” you say, voice a bit stunted because you didn’t expect him to say that.

“No,” Dazai says, seemingly equally perplexed by your words, drawn out of the haze of pleasure into a more confused state. “Sex is sex. It’s penetrative.” 

“... Sex isn’t just penetrative, Dazai,” you say, baffled. “This is sex. It’s foreplay.”

Dazai stares at you like he doesn’t even know what that word means.

Oh, you realize, heart sinking as you realize why Dazai is so thrown off by all of this. How has he had sex without foreplay? Sex without foreplay is… it’s boring, not enjoyable at all. More animalistic than anything, borderline painful half of the time. Is that what he’s been doing with all of the people he seduces for information? The thought is a bit jarring, but the more you think about it, the more you think it might make sense. 

Dazai is prodigious when he’s given something that he can study and mimic; can execute flawless imitations of the behaviors he’s trying to learn. He learned the art of leadership from observing Mori. The art of war from observing the Colonel’s operations before his death. Adaptability from observing Kouyou during missions. Business from observing Ace’s meetings and transactions. Seduction from observing you interacting with people during events. Dazai is as terrifying as he is because he’s a perfect amalgamation of the entire upper echelon’s best skill sets. He’s adopted Mori’s mannerisms, the Colonel's strategic capability, Kouyou’s ability to adapt to any situation, Ace’s shrewdness with yen, and your charisma. 

If there’s something he can observe, he can mirror it to near perfection.

So, is it really that surprising to you that the front he puts up during events is just an imitation of how you act with people? That it doesn’t translate behind closed doors? That he had nothing to study and nothing to mimic once seduction progressed to the bedroom, so he let whoever he was with take the lead to try to learn from them in the moment? 

That maybe someone would use his ignorance on the subject against him?

Dazai is Dazai, you think, for the fifth time tonight. He doesn’t watch porn, he doesn’t ask people for help, and this isn’t something Mori would have ever taught him—you know that better than anyone. Mori sheltered Dazai from everything, even tried to keep you away from him; he didn’t want anything or anyone to taint the control he had over his precious Demon Prodigy. While you and Chuuya have had the chance to live, experiencing life and the outside world, Dazai’s been stuck under the watchful eye of the boss, hardly ever out of arm’s reach, caged like a circus animal to be put on display whenever Mori sees fit.  

Of course, Dazai would only see it as another way to get the job done, disregarding his own comfort and pleasure—because when does Dazai Osamu ever care for his own comfort and pleasure? He lived in a fucking shipping container until you dragged him out of it. It’s not a thought that casually crosses his mind, and he wouldn’t think twice once he thinks he has an idea of what’s going on. He doesn’t see things the way you do, was never given the opportunity to understand, taught by Mori to see things as tools and means to an end, even himself.

Dazai can see your mind racing. You know he’s going to put together that something is wrong soon if you don’t move on from this. But it’s hard—it’s a bit fucking jarring to realize that Dazai’s so overwhelmed by your touch because every other time he’s had sex, he’s probably been uncomfortable or even in pain. 

You lean down to kiss him again, halting his thoughts. You place two chaste kisses on his lips, sucking his bottom lip gently before kissing his cheek down to his jaw.

“What all have you done with people?” you ask him, sitting back on his thighs, lacing your fingers with his as you look down at him.

Instantly, his face is on fire. “What does it matter?” he demands, but you can feel his fingers tightening around yours.

You roll your eyes at his obstinateness. “Humor me,” you say dryly. “Are you usually the one leading, or is your partner? Are you the one penetrating or-”

Dazai’s grip on your hands becomes almost painful, so you quiet down, giving him an amused look. Maybe it's an awkward subject, but you want to have a vague idea of what he’s been doing before you do anything.

“... partner is,” he finally tells you, hardly looking you in the eye. It’s kind of cute. “... and only when it’s a woman, but she still takes the lead.”

“Do you want to take the lead tonight?” you ask him, running your thumb over his knuckles to try to get him to loosen his grip. 

He does, but only barely.

“Not tonight,” he says after a few moments.

“Not tonight,” you agree. “Did you prefer topping or bottoming?” 

Dazai thinks for a moment and then says, “Topping. Bottoming was…”

You force yourself not to wince, suspicions confirmed by the way he trails off.

You hum, sliding your hands up and down his bandaged sides soothingly, enjoying the way he slowly relaxes beneath your touch. “That can feel good, too,” you tell him. “I can show you that one day if you’d like.”

Dazai’s brows furrow, pointedly looking down at your clothed lower half as if trying to see through them. Your lips quirk up as he says, “But you don’t have a-”

“There are ways to work around that,” you snort, hands finally resting at his hips, drawing circles over his protruding hip bones. 

“… Not tonight,” he finally repeats.

“Not tonight,” you agree again.

You lift your hands back to his cheeks, holding his face between them as you kiss him again. You kiss him deeper this time, rolling your hips against his to make his breath hitch. You drag the tip of your tongue against the roof of his mouth—he tastes like cigarettes and faintly of whiskey. Tastes familiar. Like home.

You think you could kiss Dazai forever and never find yourself sick of it. Kissing him is like a drug, you think again. Kissing him gives you butterflies in a way that you’ve only ever experienced with him when you were sixteen, and giving him his first kiss. 

Kissing him is like coming home after being away for years. 

He kisses you back clumsily, all of the finesse he had earlier in the night long gone. His teeth nearly knock against yours, it’s a bit too wet and a bit too messy, but you think it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. You smile against his lips before pulling away to kiss the corner of his lips, nipping his skin when he lets out a shaky breath against your ear.

Your hands slide down his body to the waistband of his pants, fingers slipping beneath before you look up at him questioningly. “Can I?” you ask him, tilting your head to the side.

“How else are we going to do this?” Dazai counters petulantly.

Brat, you think to yourself, a bit fondly. Thoughts race through your mind but you push them away—maybe another night. You don’t respond to him, raising your eyebrows and waiting for a verbal response.

His cheeks dust pink as he says, “Yes.”

You work quickly to unbutton his pants, patting his thigh so he lifts his hips. You trail kisses down his bandaged chest as you slide off his pants. He’s very responsive to your touch, each kiss makes his breath stutter, you can feel it in the way his chest rises and falls and it only makes you want to watch him fall apart more.

“Are the bandages okay?” Dazai asks after a few moments when you kiss down to his navel. You look up at him, brows furrowed, catching the hesitant expression on his face, dark eye trained on you. “Do you want them off?”

“Do you want them off?” you throw back at him, squinting up at him.

Dazai stares at you for a moment before he shakes his head, a strange expression on his face—you wonder if he was worried you’d ask him to take them off, wonder if his other partners made comments about it, pushed him to remove them. 

You wonder if it’s part of the reason why he avoided you for so long: he wasn’t ready for you to see him without them but thought you would ask him to take them off.

You leave it at that though, returning to kissing down to his hip bone, nipping the skin there and watching how his body jerks a bit in surprise. You let out a puff of laughter against his skin before you ease his briefs off, freeing his cock from where it was straining against the cloth—the soft ones you’d bought him when you’d found his rough, tattered ones in your washing machine a few months after he first moved into your apartment. 

You don’t usually find cocks pretty—they all mostly look the same—but Dazai’s is. Long, not too thick, his tip is flushed a pretty pink color and a vein runs along the underside. He’s leaky too, precum drips down from his tip, right along that vein and you want to taste him, so you do.

You lean in to press your lips against his length, sucking gently on the vein before kissing up to his tip. A bit too salty for your taste, probably because of his shitty diet, but you don’t mind because the pitched moan that tumbles from his lips makes up for the taste entirely. You peek up, breath catching at the sight of his head tossed back against the pillow, swollen lips parted in a pretty moan and long lashes fluttering. He looks stunning, you wish you could take a picture—maybe another night.

You think all of his previous partners have severely missed out.

“Ah,” he gasps. “Shit, shit-”

Even with just your lips wrapped around his tip, you can feel Dazai’s cock twitching in your mouth—you wonder if he’s already on the edge. You can see the way his abdomen is spasming beneath the bandages, how his fingers are curling around the soft sheets beneath him. You don’t want him to finish yet, you want him inside you when he cums, so you only spare a few chaste kisses trailing up and down his length before sitting up straight again. 

Immediately, he tosses you an accusing look. Bottom lip pushed out, cheeks flushed the same pretty pink as his tip. “Why-”

You silence him by pressing your lips against his. This kiss is lewder than your last, you push the bit of precum you’d gathered on your tongue into his mouth as you unbutton your own slacks. He makes a noise into your mouth but you don’t pull away until you feel him swallow. You smile against his lips before you pull back to slip off your own pants, watching his face twist.

“Yuck,” he says, wrinkling his nose and sticking out his tongue. “Tastes bad.”

“Have been telling you to start eating more fruits and vegetables,” you tell him, flicking his thigh as you shimmy out of your slacks and toss them to the side. “You don’t listen.”

The smile he tosses up at you is familiar, a welcome change from the distress and confusion that’s been plaguing him most of the night. “You’ve been thinking about what my cum tastes like for that long? Pervert.”

“More like I’ve been thinking about how high your cholesterol must be with how much canned crab and buttered bread you eat,” you say dryly, returning to where you’d been straddling his waist.

You lift your hands up, beckoning him to take them. He does, reaching up to lace his fingers with yours. A smile curves at your lips as you lean over him, pinning his hands to the mattress on either side of his head as you kiss him again. 

Your chest feels light in a way that it hardly ever does when you’re fucking someone, fluttering in the same way it was when you first kissed him two years ago. Usually when you’re sleeping with someone, it’s all about keeping up appearances. Flirty, sensual, seductive, you’re always more focused on the task at hand than you are enjoying yourself, this is… different. You mean, it always feels good—you know how to make sure it feels good for you while getting the job done—but this…

Feels like home, you think again. Being with Dazai feels like home and it scares you a bit because he’s so flighty and unpredictable but you push away the fear to kiss him harder. You have him now, that’s what matters.

“I like canned crab and buttered bread.” Dazai pouts as he mumbles against your lips.

“Shut up,” you tell him.

You feel him smile and you know you’re not going to like what he’s about to say so you cut him off by reaching down to position his cock at your entrance. Instantly, he chokes over a moan and your lashes flutter, feeling him slide between your folds. 

Shit, you hadn’t even realized how wet you were, too caught up in trying to make sure Dazai was feeling good, but now with the feeling of the tip of his cock pressed against your clit and his length firm against your core, your abdomen feels all hot and tight, head fuzzy.

You keep your forehead pressed to his, noses nudging, sharing the same sliver of air as you roll your hips, letting out a soft moan against his lips when his tip presses against your hole. Each breath he lets out hitches into a soft whine at the end, a glassy look to his eye. You don’t sink down on him yet, feeling how his grip on your hands tightens, how his breath becomes shuddered and his gaze becomes lidded.

You wonder maybe if he can cum just from the feeling of his tip pushing inside you—maybe another night.

“Please,” he breathes out for the second time tonight and who are you to deny him?

You don’t kiss him as you sink down on his cock, eyes fluttering shut when you feel how his cock stretches your walls—you want to hear him, hear the way he gasps, the way his breath catches, you want to hear his moans and whimpers. He tries to chase your lips but you keep them just out of reach until he gives up, fingers tightening around yours and hips jerking up.

“‘s so tight,” Dazai gasps as you rock your hips slowly against his. “Feels s’good.”

“Yeah?” you press, breathless. 

You distract yourself from the rapidly spreading heat by kissing his neck, letting go of one of his hands to bring it to his cheek, watching as he instinctively leans into your touch, hardly able to hold his eye open. He presses a sloppy kiss to your palm, hand coming up to hold yours to his face.

“Yeah,” he says shakily, lashes drooping and lips parting in another silent moan. “Feels…”

“Feels what?” you ask him, kissing the other side of his neck before trailing wet kisses up to his opposite cheek, feeling him shudder as you tug his earlobe.

“Right,” Dazai tells you, dark eye glazed over as he looks at you, lips wet and swollen and so entirely kissable that you can’t help yourself from leaning down to steal another from him. “Feels right.”

You wonder if Dazai feels just as at home with you as you do with him and that thought is enough to make you rock your hips. 

The noise that Dazai lets out is obscene and pornographic, pitched and breathy. You can hardly appreciate the lewd expression on his face—his hair matted to his forehead, eyes half-rolled back and lips parted in a pretty ‘o’—because the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls nearly has you tumbling over the edge.

Shit, you think to yourself, desperately trying to rein in the rapidly building pleasure. Shit, what the fuck?

You never cum this quickly—usually you have to slip your hand between the sweat slicked bodies of you and your partner to rub circles around your clit so you can bring yourself over the edge at the same time as him. You don’t think you’ve ever come from penetration alone—but the stretch of Dazai’s cock, the feeling of his tip bullying deep into your cunt, the sound of skin on skin and his pretty moans, it all goes right to your head and to your pussy, the telltale signs of your thighs tensing and your abdomen tightening warning you that you’re close already.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, voice shaky. “You’re so…”

You don’t even know what you're trying to say, mind becoming increasingly more empty of thought as you rock your hips again, setting a steady pace. Dazai chokes over air beneath you, the hand still intertwined with yours squeezing hard while the other one drops from the hand you have on his face to claw the bed sheets.

You feel his cock twitch inside you, the way his moans are becoming louder and lewder, the way his head falls to the side, face half pressed into the pillow, eyes knocked back, body arched. Dazai’s already so gone that you think any second he’ll cum deep inside of you and that thought alone makes your body shudder. 

You grab the hand clawing at the bed sheets, guiding it between your bodies as you bounce on his cock. You can feel his hazy gaze trying to figure out what you’re doing but you’re more focused on guiding his finger to rub circles around your clit.

As soon as the pressure is placed on the sensitive nub, your hips are stuttering and a gasp is tearing from your lips. Dazai’s choking when he feels your walls spasm around him, hips thrusting up erratically to meet each of your rocks, but he’s just barely coherent enough to keep his finger rubbing circles on your clit.

Your breath becomes heavy and shaky, the pace of your hips quickening, fire spreads through you so rapidly that it’s impossible to control.

“I’m gonna-” you gasp when you feel yourself tipping over the edge, eyes trying to focus on Dazai’s face and the sight you’re met with is enough to push you over the edge.

Dazai’s jaw is slack, drool pooling at the corner of his lips, the white of his eye just barely visible, cheeks flushed a deep red. He's babbling out incoherent words: you can just barely make out your name, s’good, too tight, too much, and I’m gonna-

And then you’re choking over your own moan when you feel Dazai finish inside of you, cum warm and heavy as he fucks it deep in your cunt. His lithe body trembles beneath you, tense and arched, holding your hand so tight that you think he might break it, and your vision goes white as you cum on his cock, mind blank when the taut cord snaps within you, nails digging into Dazai’s skin.

Dazai’s cock is still twitching inside of you when you slump onto his chest, tremors still spreading through his body. You tilt your head up to ghost your lips against his jaw before sliding off of him, laying on the bed next to him. You feel empty without him inside you but you distract yourself by lifting your hand to his cheek again, tilting it to the side and forcing him to look at you.

More emotion swims in Dazai’s eye than you’ve seen him express in the entire two years you’ve known him, he looks at you so reverently that you can almost imagine three words spilling from his lips, breathy and adoring. You know he won’t say them, but it’s a nice thought, you think. You lean in to ghost your lips against his briefly, the tips of your fingers carding through his dark curls. You want to say something but you don’t know what.

Well. You do know what but you can’t say it.

“You wanted me soooooo bad,” Dazai finally says, a bit more clarity returning to his eye as his lips curl up. “I knew it, you wanted me so bad.”

“You’re so annoying,” you tell him but your voice is fond and you can’t help yourself from shifting forward to press your lips against his. You feel him smile against your lips and that warm, fluttery feeling returns.

Home. 

“You love it,” Dazai sings, nipping your cheek. 

A bit longingly, you think, I do.

Instead, you roll on top of him to straddle his hips, pressing your lips against his again. 

“You wish.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

devotee

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, MURDER!, DARK!RAFE but also equally soft!rafe, rafe is clearly mentally fucked uppppp omds, lets just say reader is very forgiving, descriptions of blood and gore, vomiting, pregnancy, semi public sex

you pant heavily as you look around the room, knowing the sight will haunt you for the rest of your life. your clothes are splattered with blood, but not your own.

you should have known this would happen. you blame yourself as you stare at the growing pool of blood around your boyfriends body. there's no point trying to save him, he's long gone, his eyes open and eerily staring at the ceiling, but theres nothing behind them.

you feel sick, and you make no move towards the bathroom. there's no point when the room is already a mess as you lean forward and vomit all over the carpet.

“aww, baby.” rafe coos, dropping the knife to the ground as he gathers your hair into a ponytail, holding it away from your face as you empty your stomach. 

“it's okay.” his words and the hand that is stroking up and down your back is soft, completely opposite of the heinous violent act he just committed.

you're unharmed, of course. rafe would never hurt you. his obsession runs far too deep.

“he's gone now.” rafe says as you stand up, looking at him with bloodshot eyes, snot dripping from your nose that you don't bother to wipe away. 

“rafe-” you mutter. the only word that you can get out is his name.

“oh, baby.” he pulls you into his chest. you don't fight back, releasing a sob, part out of guilt for finding his hold comforting, but mostly for your boyfriend dead on the floor.

you should have known rafe would come after him. even though you broke up with rafe a month ago, he never processed that you actually weren't together anymore. it's like his brain couldn't accept it.

so when you moved on, found a new guy who you liked decent enough, it only took rafe a week before barging in and ending him, thinking he was saving you.

“i got you.” rafe says, feeling you shake against him.

you can't get yourself to pull away, even as the metallic coppery smell hits your nostrils.

“let's get you home and then ill clean you up, okay?” rafe says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “ive missed you so much baby. the house feels so empty without you.”

“rafe-” you whine out.

“shh, don't try to talk.” he lifts you up so effortlessly it takes you a moment to realize that you're now off your feet, cradled in his big strong arms. “just let me take care of you.”

you know you should run, should scream, should call 911 and tell them everything. you should feel sadder for your boyfriend. you liked him. not like you love rafe, though, so you keep your mouth shut as he carries you out of the house and into his car, gently setting you in the passenger seat. he reaches across and grabs the buckle, doing it up for you before pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

the ride home is silent, your hand held in rafes as he breaks the speed limit to get you back to tanneyhill.

“you're home now.” rafe says as he pulls into the driveway.

you wait for rafe to round the car and let you out, of course once again scooping you into his arms. you never have to open a door when around rafe, or even lift a finger if you don't want to. 

he would be the perfect guy, sweet and utterly in love with you, if that love didn't distort reality.

“where was i?” you ask. “this last month?”

“you were having some time to yourself before that asshole tried to take you away from me.” rafes face turns sour at the mention of him. “but you're back now, so we don't need to worry about it.”

of course no mention of a breakup as rafe carries you right into the master bathroom. he sets you down on the counter before turning on the bath, adding a hefty amount of your favorite bath soak.

“what if the police come after you?” you question.

“they won't.” rafe says, walking over and cupping your cheek. “are you worried about me?”

you nod. you absolutely are. you don't know what you would do without rafe. even during your “break up”, he still paid for the rent of your apartment, sent you lunch and dinner every day, and texted you the sweetest things that always made your heartbeat a little faster.

“we’ll be fine baby, i promise.” rafes hands begin to work at taking your clothes off. you don't stop him, there's no point, he's seen it all before.

rafe undresses himself next before turning the water off once the tub is mostly filled, leaving enough space for both of you to soak together.

“ready?” he questions, thumb stroking against your cheek.

another nod and rafe is placing you in the bathtub before climbing in himself. 

you dunk yourself under the warm water, needing to get every drop of blood off of you. when you come back up, the water is tinted slightly red that almost makes you throw up again.

“i have a vacation planned for us.” rafe says. “to the seychelles, but if you want to go somewhere else-”

“that sounds nice.” you interrupt him. it really does. you need to get away from the outer banks for a while, maybe longer. 

“what if we moved?” you question. there's no point in pretending that you'll ever be without rafe. a breakup is clearly impossible, and with that month away, you realize that's not what you actually want.

“to where?” rafe asks, quirking his head to the side curiously. he's always wanting to know more about how your thoughts work, needing to learn everything he can about you.

“anywhere but here. maybe europe. london. madrid.” you shrug. “i just want a change of… scenery.”

a different town, a different country, maybe a different rafe. one where you don't know anyone for him to get jealous of and “rescue” you from.

“we'll figure it out after our vacation.” rafe offers, and you nod, falling into silence as he moves closer, glad the big tub allows for it as you cuddle together, eyes peacefully closing as you rest your head against his chest.

--

the resort is full of couples, mostly newlyweds happy and smiling and kissing, so it was natural when you sat down on rafes thigh to kiss him.

you hadn't realized how much you missed his lips, his hold, his touch, his cock.

rafe clenches his thigh muscle, hands coming to your hips and pushing you down onto his thigh, your bikini bottoms barely acting as a barrier as you let out a moan.

“rafe.” you moan out, keeping your voice quiet.

you're in a secluded cabana, but couples have occasionally walked past, able to see through the sheer white curtains surrounding the plush bedding.

“right here. right now.” rafe says. 

he didn't fuck you that night you came back to him, knowing you needed the rest. he didn't last night either, your first night on the island. the flight was long and you were excited to be somewhere new, so by the time you got back to your room, your were exhausted.

“but the people-”

“if anyone looks at us, ill just kill them.” rafe says.

you know it should worry you, that your first thought is then you'll have to cut your vacation short, but as rafe bounces his thigh, all care goes out the window.

“everyone here is drunk anyways.” you still keep your voice low as rafe lays back, switching so you're underneath him. “they probably won't notice.”

“mhm.” rafe hums, pushing his hips between your legs, parting your thighs as his crotch aligns with yours, rubbing his already hard cock against your covered pussy.

“tell me.” rafe says, burying his head into your neck.

you instantly know what he means. “you're my first. you're my only.”

it's the truth. you could never imagine sleeping with another guy. rafe is all you know, and all you'll ever know.

rafe reaches down, pulling his cock out but leaving his swim shorts as best in place as he can before tugging your bikini bottoms to the side.

rafe pushes into you in one smooth motion, making you moan out as your head tips back.

rafe stills despite the urge to obliterate you, allowing you time to adjust to his cock back inside of you.

“missed this.” you whine. “i-i love you so much rafe.”

“i love you so much more baby. id do anything for you.” including kill. the words go unsaid. they don't need to be spoken aloud.

rafe begins to swing his hips, pushing into you in slow and relaxed strokes, allowing you to build up slowly.

“fuck.” you whine out. “you feel so good.”

“me?” rafe chuckles dryly. “your pussy is so warm and wet baby, it's perfect. i would stay inside you forever if i could.”

you smile up at rafe, allowing yourself to forget the past and enjoy the way he's slowly moving faster, thrusting deeper and harder into you.

rafe cups his hand over your chest, squeezing your breast before moving the bikini top to the side to set your nipple free.

he's quick to arch his back and lock his mouth around your nipple until it hardens, his tongue flicking over the bud without a care for the path just outside your cabana.

“perfect body, baby. so perfect.” rafe switches sides, moaning around your chest. “everything about you is perfect.”

“i love you.” you want to say it over and over again. you pull rafes face to meet yours, kissing him deeply. “i love you.” you repeat.

“i love you.” rafe grunts out, keeping his hips thrusting forward. “ill never leave you. you're mine. im yours.”

--

you breath in the madrid air, letting the sun warm your face as you wait for rafe to return home to your new apartment.

when you casually mentioned wanting coffee, he was out the door as quickly as he could.

“baby!” rafe calls, heading through the rooms until he reaches the balcony. the smile on his face is infectious as he hands you a cup, of course the largest size, and if you wanted more, he'd be out the door again.

“don't think i can drink all this.” you giggle as you take the cup from him.

“ill just dump the rest.” rafe shrugs. he's so much calmer now that he's out of the outer banks. you've put everything behind you, deciding to start a new the moment your plane landed.

“it's not recommended.” you say. rafes eyebrows scrunch together, trying to understand what you mean.

“im only supposed to have a cup a day, but i still need to find a good doctor in madrid. one that specializes in what im going through.”

“what…” rafe mumbles, mind working overtime. you set your cup down as he thinks, already expecting his reaction when he works it out.

“you're pregnant!” rafe pulls you into his arms, the brightest smile you've ever seen on his face as he hugs and kisses you.

“you're going to be a dad.” you whisper into his ear, feeling tears hit your shoulder.

[jj-one]

ೀ⋆ HOW COULD YOU BE SO RECKLESS WITH MY HEART ?!

[ . . . when they find out you were cheating on them ]

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: skz x fem!reader, established relationship genre/tags: smut, angst, crying, begging, punishments, spanking, oral (m & f receiving), choking, manhandling, heavy degradation, humiliation, cuckolding, recording/taking photos (?), voyeurism, piv, rough sex (lmk if i missed anything else!) words: 5.9k

[ note. ] heyyy, i’m back >:3 there’s no explanation for this other than i love angst and whenever i see cheating fics it’s never the reader cheating on them so i wanted to be messy and do this sjhgsjsk, i’m in no way endorsing this type of behavior— it’s for fictional purposes only !!

𖥔 ݁ ˖ Bang Chan

He didn’t know who he was more angry with, you or the son of a bitch who attempted even sliding in your DMs. The fact you accepted the prick’s message and entertained his flirtatious advances tipped him off the edge even further. It didn’t matter if you had zero intention on meeting up or not, it was the principle of it all, though it may not have been physical, emotional cheating still counts as cheating in his book. He felt beyond disrespected by what you did— had the roles been reversed and you found out he was texting other women in such a nature, there’d be hell to pay on his side within a heartbeat. He couldn’t focus much in the studio with a million thoughts burdening his mind, a sudden wave of insecurities come flooding in— was he simply not good enough for you? The realization of you talking to another guy made him feel sick to his stomach, he needed to address it with you before all this anxiety eats him to the core.

“Channie baby!” You rush towards him with open arms when he arrives back home, his black t-shirt felt slightly damp from the rain. “Did you walk home? You’re soaked! I can run you a warm bath an-”

“Nah, I’m good actually.” Chan quickly cuts you off, walking towards the kitchen. He didn’t bother to hug you back when you attempted to either, this was so unlike him which causes you to question his dodgy behavior in more detail.

“Long day at work huh?” You pry some more, doing anything you can to get him to say something.

“Yeah, guess you could say that.” He shrugs, still unbothered by your overall presence. That’s when you decide to come out with it and stop settling for his little mind games.

“Seriously, what’s up with you? Why is it whenever you have a problem you never want to talk it out? You’re always so reclusive and that’s what drives me away so much!” That last part didn’t mean to slip out but sometimes it’s good to hear harsh critique from your partner.

“Oh so that’s what it is? Me being gone for so long makes you wanna fuck around and go talking to other guys for fun? You’re not as sneaky as you think y/n, I know everything you do behind my back.” Chan was more than pissed at this point, he was livid, this was the highest level of betrayal you could achieve. There was no witty rebuttal you could come up with this time, only true remorse for your actions, it didn’t hit you until now that you he considers you as a cheater.

“Ch-channie, you know I w-wouldn’t do anything to hurt you… swear on my life! Just wanna make you happy.” You croak, being falsely accused of something you’re not was devastating— especially coming from him.

“You want to know what’ll make me happy then?” Chan’s voice gets lower, creeping his hands up around your neck. You look up in curiosity with big doe eyes, “W-what?”

“Get on your knees and let me use your face as my personal cum rag, then maybe, just maybe I’ll even consider giving you the satisfaction of my humble forgiveness. That’s only if I’m pleased with how well you take my cock in that whorish mouth of yours.” His merciless demands sent shivers through your body, but you comply to his order, willing to do anything he asks to mend your wrongdoings.

As your legs coil down to land on your knees, you come face to face with the outline of his cock through his gray sweatpants. You immediately went in to palm his erection but he angrily swats you away, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, always so eager to touch someone’s cock, so fucking dirty.. M’gonna teach you a little lesson on what happens to sluts like you, only thinking about dick, that’s all that lives in your mind huh?” He continues to taunt you, belittle you like you were nothing. In retrospect this was supposed to be a “punishment” however, you were enjoying every minute of it. His hand travels up to your chin, propping your face up slightly, grazing his fingers over your bottom lip— noticing a few tears well up in the corner of your eyes.

“Yeah, cry as much as you want honey, it’s not going to get you anywhere here. I’ll just use them as lube to make the pain less prominent for you while you take me further down your throat. You’re gonna wish you had never fucking tried some shit like that again sweetheart.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Lee Know

“Minho, please it’s not what you thi-”

“Oh cut the fucking sob story and save the crocodile tears y/n! I know what I fucking saw, I’m not going to let you gaslight me into this one again.” Minho spat harshly, looking at you as if you were scum beneath him.

You know you fucked up royally, you know this is probably the end of your relationship but at this point you had nothing left to lose; doing everything you could to salvage any bit of sympathy out of him.

“It was just a kiss, it didn’t mean anything I swear! Wooyoung came onto me first!” You weren’t helping your case much, the fact you were still blaming everyone but yourself was astounding to Minho.

“And where’s your accountability in all this huh? You really expect me to believe that he coerced you into making out with him and not a single thought about you having a boyfriend crossed your mind? Must’ve thought I was born yesterday or some shit.” Minho expresses with utter disgust, “did you enjoy kissing that fucking bastard? Was he better at it than me? How many other guys have you sucked face with while I was gone? I bet you there’s so many you can’t even count, can’t believe I wasted all my time with someone as shameless as you are.” His degrading words were more than deserving, you kissed one of his friends and now that he’s found out he’s going to make you pay in a less than permissive way.

Heavy streams of tears roll down your cheeks as you mewl out in pain mixed with ample pleasure, crying out to Minho as he leaves several brute spankings to your rear, leaving your body in a beautifully bruised red state. “Nnngh!” You’d whine as his hand produces another harsh smack to your ass, hips involuntarily jolting forward from the sudden unexpected impact.

“That’s number 23 so far, almost halfway to 50.” He snickered, kneading the overly sensitive flesh. “Better be lucky this is just my hand and not a belt.” After a while of toying with you, it didn’t take long for him to get bored of that idea. Instead, he shifts you on your back now— ordering you to spread your legs far out for him. His hot breath permeating chills down your body, as he inches closer to your face, his lips brushed against yours causing you to pucker but he pulls away.

“Tch, you really think I’m gonna kiss that filthy mouth of yours? You’re gonna have to wash it out with soap before I even think of doing some shit like that.”

More tears fall out as you bear his cruel words, though what you did was morally flawed, his unrelenting demeanor was enough to scare you out of ever thinking of wanting another man. You kept profusely apologizing over and over again, repeating the same lines like a broken record, it was highly pathetic of you; he even chuckled at your sad efforts to be forgiven.

“You keep on saying you’re sorry yet I don’t believe a single word you say.” He cocks his head to the side in amusement, “I just wonder if this was your plan to begin with, to get me all hot and bothered over you. Was this all worth it for you? Seeing me worked up like this? You truly are a sick, twisted individual.” You nervously gulp at his harsh tone, pondering the vicious grin that’s plastered on his face. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what’s soon to come.

“Want to act like a whore then you’ll get treated as such. I’m gonna relish in the fact that I have full control over you, I’m going to enjoy edging you until you can’t physically take it anymore. You can scream and shout to your hearts fullest content but I’ll drown out every bit of it, I’m going to give you pure hell all night.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Changbin

What you had with Changbin was toxic yet you couldn’t seem to escape his hold no matter how hard you tried. When he gets jealous he turns into an absolute menace when in bed with you, as if something otherworldly possessed him to act in such a way. Sex with him is great, almost too good to be true at times, but when he gets angry it’s filled with even more hasty passion— you can’t get enough of it. Your relationship over the course of 8 months have been nothing but turbulent, breaking up and getting back together constantly since you two butt heads a lot, he’s got a stubborn attitude and your smart mouth combined with that is a disaster waiting to spew. But when you’re both on a “break” you still can’t stay away from each other, even if you go around seeing other people you find yourself in Changbin’s bed every night, acting as if you weren’t just telling him to fuck off earlier.

“I heard from one of the guys you fucked Chan, if you’re gonna be a cheating skank at least don’t choose one of my friends.” He gripes, the judgmental glare he’s giving you left you with clear discomfort.

“What is to you if I did fuck him anyway? We’re not even together right now, you have no room to even be upset with me!” You spoke defensively, trying not to let him think his insults were getting to you.

He rolls his eyes in response, he wasn’t having any of it. If it was anyone else but Chan he probably wouldn’t have been as mad, but you went too far this time and now he’s going to show who has true ownership over you.

“You’re just never satisfied with having only guy in your life, always wanting more ‘cause you’re such a greedy little pup. This is why we don’t work out, you’re so easy to move on to the next guy who shows you any slightest bit of attention.” You shook your head at his statement but as his hands wrap the base of your neck, your body stills its movement.

Changbin snickers at your daring courage to challenge him, he ought to remind you that he is the only one you come home to at night, not all those other pieces of shit that just use you to bust a quick nut.

“I don’t like to fucking share what’s mine, you come here every single day to fuck and you still mess around with other guys? The fuck is wrong with you?” The bass in his voice grew deeper as he continued interrogating with questions, “Why would you need anyone else when I’m right here y/n? Are you really that much of a whore you need to get dick from my own goddamn friends? Just when I think you couldn’t go any lower, you pull this shitty stunt on me…”

Truth be told, you have no idea why you did it. Maybe he’s right, you secretly liked the adrenaline of the attention Chan gave you in that moment. You craved the same feeling from Changbin, except he was never emotionally available, he always seemed mentally drained by the relationship. This was the first time in months you’ve seen him act out of his usual nonchalant manner.

“I know you’re upset with me… but please be reasonable. We were— still are on a break, cut me some slack Bin, I’m sorry if I-”

“Fuck an apology. I don’t care enough to accept such bullshit from you anyway.” An apology meant nothing to him, the only thing he wanted was to make you writhe under his touch and wipe out all the memories of Chan from your brain. The strong grip he’s held against your neck tightens as he slams you into the wall behind, biting his lip at the sight of your disgruntled expression.

“Can Chan make you cum as hard with his fingers like I do? Can he make you a drooling mess while having you shaking and sobbing all over my cock? I bet he can’t give you the most mind blowing orgasms like my mouth does, he doesn’t understand your body like I do, no one ever will. I’m the only one that gets to touch you, please you, fuck you— you belong to me. Know your place and tread lightly darling, never forget that.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Hyunjin

It all started when he noticed you getting a little too close with Felix, the way you’d drag out a laugh even if what he said wasn’t that funny, to how you stare into his gaze for far too long while fluttering your eyelashes. Though your gestures were subtle, it didn’t take much for Felix to become a blushy and flustered mess from you being a natural flirt, he never knew how to react since Hyunjin, your boyfriend of almost 2 years, was standing right there. Oddly enough though, Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind it all, in fact it was doing the complete opposite, he was getting slowly turned on by the idea of you hitting on his friends in front of him.

Then the scenarios of you hooking up with Felix became more vivid, he’d think about it constantly throughout the day. It got so bad to a point where it was all he could think about when the three of you were together, he couldn’t shake off the idea anymore— he had to finally act upon it.

“I want you to have sex with Felix in front of me.” Hyunjin proposed randomly to you while watching a movie.

You almost choked on your popcorn as he said that, completely caught off guard by his unexpected statement.

“You want me to what?” You reiterate, still trying to process what he just said, this was seemingly random coming from him and he’s never shown any interest in this kind of topic before.

“Look, I know this is probably weird to you but I’ve been having these fantasies lately…” he slowly trails off but eventually continues, “I think about you cheating on me with Felix a lot, but I- I find it really hot for some reason.”

You couldn’t seem to wrap your head around what he was saying, none of it made sense to you but if this was something he’s expressing interest in then maybe it won’t be so bad to try it.

“So… let me get this straight, you want me to sleep with your best friend and you’re completely okay with it?”

Hyunjin nods in agreement, “pretty much yeah.”

The fact he barely hesitated made you even more uneasy, he must have been thinking about this for a while. Since the whole point of his fantasy was to feel like you were cheating on him, he wanted you make the first move on Felix, to gauge his reaction and test the waters first. By doing so, you’d amp up your flirtatious banter with him— making him even more of a flustered mess than he already is. Hyunjin seemed to be enjoying everything so far, watching you from across the table, acting as a simple bystander. Little did Felix know what was about to ensue a few hours later.

“Fuck yes! Just like that Lix, keep going- mmpfh!” You moan out in pleasure from Felix’s cock hitting all the right spots inside. Your legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in place as he plunged deeper into your walls. He’s not sure not how he got into this situation but the way your pussy clenches around his girth makes his brain short circuit for a second. Your juices continuously gush out onto him as he keeps up a steady pace, pounding into you like no tomorrow.

“God this cunt feels amazing…” he grunts, throwing his head back at the feeling of you swallowing him whole. He almost forgot that Hyunjin was sitting in the corner of the room, observing all of this in amusement. Hyunjin knew he was a total cuck for doing this, letting his own best friend have his way with you and not do a single thing about it, that was the fun in all of it though; he never realized how much he loved you cheating on him. His cock twitched from the sight of you getting fucked by another man, it left him with a sense of inferiority but in a turned on, masochist kind of way. Hyunjin couldn’t help but encourage it, he was probably getting the most gratification out of this.

“So fucking dirty… you like having someone else’s cock fill you up while I watch? Always knew you were such a naughty girl, nothing but a hole for anyone to stretch, you take Lixie so well too. You sure you’ve never cheated on me before in the past? You seem to be enjoying this a little too much.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Han Jisung

As if today couldn’t get any fucking worse, Han was infuriated when he found out you’ve been sexting other guys, he know it’s inherently wrong to be snooping through your phone while you’re not looking— but being the overly protective boyfriend he is he just can’t help it. When he saw all the messages of you talking to those guys the same exact way you talk to him privately, he felt his vision almost go black. He couldn’t wrap his conscience around the idea of the person he once thought was going to spend all of eternity with could stab in the back like this and betray him in such a vile way. It wasn’t easy for him to accept the truth of your cheating habits, Han was in complete denial himself.

He was more so disgusted with the fact those men thought they even stood a chance with you, there’s no way in hell he’d even let you anyone touch or come near you. Sadly, his entire world revolved around the sole purpose of keeping you happy, he’d rather die than have you out of his life. Even if that meant turning a blind eye and allowing you to continue with this unacceptable behavior. All he wanted was some simple answers, he just wants to understand why you’d do something like this in the first place.

“Just tell me where I’m going wrong babe, please. Tell me and I’ll fix it. We can work through this, just don’t leave me baby. You’re all I have, I can’t lose you too… please, I’m not ready to give up on us yet, I need you.” The glossiness of tears welling up in his eyes weighed tons on your morality, you should be the one who’s saying all of this— not the other way around. You should feel ashamed of what you did, all the damage you’re causing him but you have nothing to say; not a single word left your deceitful mouth.

“Do I really not deserve any explanation? Not even a simple, “I’m sorry.”? Is this what it’s really come to now, can’t even look me in the eye and apologize for having me out here looking stupid, remaining loyal to you even when I’m tempted at times… I’ve shown you nothing but love and honesty while all you’ve been doing is lying to my face and planning to hook up with other guys while you’re cooped up right next to me, do you know how worthless that makes me feel y/n?” He continued pouring all his emotions out, yet you still give him a blank stare, as if none of this was affecting you.

“Answer me y/n, why do you keep fucking lying to me?!” Though he kept asking, you still didn’t have a clear response for him, you yourself couldn’t even understand why you did it, it was more a spur of the moment thing. You simply wanted the attention, the thrill of it all, it was a horrifying revelation but you had no other excuse.

“Han, I-I’m really sorry for what I’ve done. Words can’t express enough how deeply guilty I feel… I’m just- I don’t know- maybe this relationship just isn’t working out for me anymore.”

“Shh shh, don’t say things you don’t mean, take it back now baby.”

What the hell are you doing to him? Was this really your way of saying that you wanted to officially break up? The sudden turn of events from wanting to work things out to the possibility of losing you made him regret being too harsh on you, though it was more than warranted, he wanted to keep this relationship alive, he couldn’t succumb to the idea of you walking out of his life this easily.

“Are you saying you want to end t-this…?” His voice cracks, visibly shaken up by your apparent coldness.

“Yeah, I think it’s for the best honestly... You deserve someone better than me.” It may have been semi-manipulative of you to say that but it was truth, he did deserve better, someone who wasn’t going to cheat on him and will properly communicate when they want out of something. “You’re just too… clingy for me Han. You’re overbearing at times, I want to be the one for you I really do, but I’m not. This isn’t working anymore for me, I know how selfish this sounds but I miss being single…” your confession hit him hard, he didn’t want to accept it, not when you made him the happiest he’s ever been.

“As much as it kills me to hear that, I’ll respect it.. but can you at least let me touch you… just for last time’s sake..? I’d be lying to myself if I said I wouldn’t miss eating you out every day, getting to make you feel good, watching you moan out my name as you cum for me. Will you let me do it again, please? I’ll let you go in peace if that’s what you really want, just let me show you what you’ll be missing afterwards.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Felix

“Why have you been so cold towards me lately? Is there something that’s been going on that you won’t tell me about? You can tell me anything, I swear— I’m here to listen to your concerns babe.” Felix wouldn’t stop bombarding you with a plethora of questions, he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. Soon as you get home from work you go straight upstairs without talking, you barely acknowledge him anymore and it’s been driving a wedge between your relationship and how you coexist together.

“I’m fine, seriously, stop asking!” You hiss, trying to shrug him off as you make your way into the bathroom.

You know what you’re saying is farthest from the truth, you’ve been harboring massive amounts of guilt since you made an irreversible mistake a week ago. The night you drunkenly hooked up with someone else at a nightclub— which has been weighing heavily on your conscience every waking moment. You couldn’t even look at him the same anymore, you’ve completely killed the spark between each other, he may not have known it yet but you had to be the one to break it to him.

“C’mon y/n… I know you’re clearly not okay. I’m not an idiot, I know how distant you’ve been acting, it’s quite obvious actually. You won’t even let me touch you anymore, I don’t understand how someone can just flip a switch like that. Is there someone else you’re seeing? Be honest, whatever you have to say to me I can handle it… just tell me the truth please y/n!” Felix couldn’t help but tear up as he begged for answers, his pleas were taking a toll on you— tugging at your heartstrings. It was time to come clean once and for all.

“I-I cheated on you last week..” you anxiously mutter, you couldn’t believe such a sentence came out of your mouth.

“You what…?” He blinks rapidly, in utter disbelief of your sudden admission, mouth slightly agape from shock, he felt his world crumbling beneath him. You kept making all the sorry excuses you could, saying you were drunk and how much it meant nothing to you, the more you tried explaining though, the more he didn’t want to listen.

“So you slept with someone else a week ago and didn’t even bother telling me ‘til now? Un-fucking-believable…” He scoffs, unable to even look at you in the same innocent light he once did.

Stumbling over words as you muster up the nerve to continue asking for forgiveness, it was truly pitiful of you to even think he’d hold any compassion for you, it was your actions that led you here to begin with.

“Felix please don’t leave- I know I fucked up but I can make it up to you, p-promise!”

“And how the fuck are you gonna do that y/n? Build a time machine to go back and change everything? Do you hear how idiotic that sounds? You must be high out of your mind right now.”

“Lix j-just hear me out, I was blackout drunk and didn’t fully understand the consequences of it a-”

“That doesn’t make it any better y/n! Fuck, all the shit I do for you and you hit me with this lame pile of shit, I’m so through with your sorry ass, it’s over.” You wished you could take back everything you did but what’s done is already done, there is no redo or fixing any part of the past.

“Strip.” He aggressively orders in his deep voice, you were hesitant on doing it at first but it wasn’t until he started doing it for you that you eventually complied to his rules.

You felt as though there was nothing you could do in this situation but submit to him, taking off every piece of clothing— leaving you in nothing but your tiny thong that barely covered anything. He forcibly makes you get onto your knees, facing the apparent bulge through his jeans— he’s never been the type to like seeing you cry nor completely powerless but this was different. He wanted revenge, wanted to humiliate you in the same way you did to him.

“I’m gonna post these in the groupchat just to show how much of a greedy, fucking whore you are.” Felix couldn’t even recognize himself, he’s never been so domineering as he was now. He kept pushing your head further down as you took his cock deep, down your throat, his hips bucking into a steady rhythm that made you see flashes of white and stars combined. After he snaps a couple shots of you sucking him off, he immediately sends them to all of his friends, not having a single care in the world what they do with those photos. It was simply payback for what you did, you deserved this after all.

“I hope one day you realize how good you had it with me, you fucking slut— you’ve completely ruined my trust forever. You’re the most heartless, conniving person I’ve ever known in my life and I mean every bit of it. Don’t come cryin’ to me once this is all over, I don’t wanna hear it, pack your shit and get out of my house. I should’ve known you were nothing but a damn nightmare since I heard about you.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Seungmin

Never in his lifetime would he think of you ever pulling a stunt like this, finding out you did some of the most unspeakable acts with someone in the same house you two share together. It was the biggest slap in the face to him, completely crushed his ego. Seungmin gave you a chance to explain yourself but as you continued he couldn’t bear to keep listening anymore.

“How could you even do this to me, just lied to my face this whole fucking time y/n, I trusted you.” He proceeds to go on a mindless tangent, “do you have any ounce of morals? Dignity? You played me so bad and I fell for every bit of it, fell for all the lies you’ve been feeding me for months on end.”

You want to give as honest of a response as possible but the lump in your throat causes you to stir, the only reaction was to sob in this moment.

“Awe, is that a tear I see? Is the wittle cheating slut gonna start cwying for me?” He mocks condescendingly, tilting his head to the side in fake amusement. This only made you cry more, feeling all types of shame and guilt for your heinous actions, what you did was unacceptable, unforgivable. Seungmin saw right through you, he knew you were only crying because you got caught, not because you were truly remorseful. Everything about you seemed inauthentic, he doesn’t know who you are anymore truthfully.

“I- I can explain.” You dolefully attempt to speak, nothing would help your case anyway, it didn’t matter how hard you tried.

“What is there to explain y/n? I saw you fucking another guy in our bed, I think that should be self explanatory in itself.” He’s more than right, however, you still manage to reason with him.

“It was just sex, he didn’t matter to me at all like you do, I’m sorry— I know you’ll never forgive me but all I can say is I’m really sorry… you’ll probably want to kick me out after this and I don’t blame you- just give me time to fix this and I’ll do anything to gain your trust back!”

Seungmin wishes he could’ve recorded this conversation, the way you’re so oblivious to how this is hurting him more than you could even comprehend. He had every right to yell at you, tell you how much of a terrible person you are, but he won’t do that, he can’t— it was all too much for him to handle.

“You want to regain my trust after I just saw my own girlfriend of one year and a half getting her back blown out by some random dude in my fucking bed?” The audacity you had was insane, you were acting more than entitled.

Reconciling the detriment of your relationship was futile by now. You had no more fight left within, seemingly ready to give up on everything you’ve built thus far. Seungmin notices you look mentally checked out of all this, causing him to be deeply irritated. He really wanted to give you benefit of the doubt but you weren’t budging one bit.

“You know what I despise the most y/n? Liars. They absolutely disgust me.” He seethes, pushing you backwards onto the bed you just cheated on him in. Your eyes roll up as you feel the shuddering sensation of teeth sinking into your neck, legs flailing around as you had both arms pinned down.

“Did it feel good to lie to my face? Is this some kind of demented kink you have? I bet you don’t even give a shit how I’m feeling right now.” His tone became more serious as he ranted, lashing everything out on you. When the slight contact of his cock brushes against your clothed slit, the immediate response you gave was bucking your hips, receiving a sinister glare from him. His legs lock your thighs in place, unable to shift a muscle. Your whines only grew louder, he was never going to give you the satisfaction of moving.

“You think I’m really gonna let you move? Silly little slut, that’s only reserved for girls that aren’t lying cheaters like you. I’m so going to make you pay for this, you have no idea… I better not hear a peep outta you and I sure as hell better not feel you make any sudden movement. There will be harsh outcomes if you try it, I fucking dare you.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Jeongin

You knew you were in such deep shit once he arrives back at your apartment, Jeongin texted you this morning— exposing all the dirty shit you’ve been doing in secret. He was practically speeding down the highway with rage, thinking about you getting off with some other guy and playing in his face knowing the whole time what you were doing. The fact you kept repeating over text how sorry you were for your actions just aggravated him even more, he was about to give you the rudest awakening. Jeongin bursts through the door, fuming as he walks in to only be welcomed by your continuous begs and pleads. It was quite pitiful seeing you like this, usually he likes seeing you on your knees but not in this context…

Your lips tremble as you spoke, barely able to chalk up the will to keep going, you wanted to show your sincere remorse but Jeongin wasn’t going to let you off the hook so easily.

“I don’t think you should be apologizing to me. You should be apologizing to yourself for how much of a huge slut you are.” He scorns viciously, “you have no one but yourself to blame, this could’ve all been easily avoided if you’d just close you’re fucking legs for once!” It wasn’t like him to get this loud and it was the first time he’s yelled at you like this.

“I just- I don’t know what I was thinking babe, I wasn’t in the right mind.” The more you try and justify your despicable cheating only aggravates him further. He wants nothing to do with you after this, but that doesn’t mean he won’t give you the most deranged post breakup sex as a final farewell and good riddance.

“Guess you really can’t turn a hoe into a housewife, so I’ll just fuck you like one instead.” You swallow his words harshly, it pained you to hear these things come out of his mouth but he was right.

To put it simply, you were for the streets; there wasn’t one redeemable quality in you. Jeongin demands you to stand up, telling you to get on the couch with your ass up in the air since looking at your face would only make his dick go soft.

“Who’d you cheat on me with, huh?” He asks sternly.

“It d-doesn’t matter anymore.” You try reasoning but he won’t allow you to hide anything else from him.

“I’m not going to ask again, tell me who you fucking cheated on me with, now.” A hand harshly spanks you from behind, letting a tiny whine escape as you dig further into the couch to brace yourself.

“B-beomgyu...”

“Gyu?? Are you fucking serious, of all people it had to be one of my closest fucking friends? You really are the biggest whore after all.” Jeongin was so done with you at this point, he just wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t physically walk anymore, it was only right for what you’re putting him through.

He slid your panties aside and pushed himself in without warning, making you scream out as he held your hips aggressively in place.

“Fuckk- you’re still so tight, did he even fuck you? Barely stretched this pussy out for me.” He grunts, producing deeper strokes, feeling your ass cheeks clap against him. “I fucking hate you, so much.”

The waterworks only continue as he kept degrading you, this was all you’ve succumb to now, just a toy for anyone to use as much as they please. Your head slightly bobs up from his length ramming harder into you, he only pushes your face further into the cushion as he berates you more with disdain, “Didn’t I say don’t move? A useless hole like you should know when to take directions, always so fucking eager to screw someone else other than me, so goddamn pathetic.” He hissed, ignoring your cries for him to slow his pace but only gets more hostile with you.

“God.. will you shut your fucking mouth already? No matter how much you cry and beg I’m not going to stop. You’ve got some real nerve to even be acting outta line, wow, you truly disgust me. Gonna make you feel the same pain I’m feeling— don’t care how bad it hurts, I’ll make you regret ever even meeting me.”