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callmeagardengnome · 9 days

Text

✶ silver and nerds ✶ | MARK LEE

pairings ༄ nerd/loser!mark x stoner! fem! reader

genre ༄ college au, romance, SLOWW BURNNN, kinda angsty but hurt/comfort 😗

synopsis ༄ entering college, mark had two goals: get good grades and get bad bitches. unfortunately for him, the grades were easy but the girls? not so much. being stuck with the ‘nerd persona’, mark was practically invisible - until he met you.

w.c ༄ 7.6k

c.w ༄ reader has a boyfriend AT FIRST, mentions of smoking and taking weed (its nct), cheating (not the reader tho), mention of needles (NOT THE DRUG KIND, the piercings kind) mark has never been in a r/s, swearing.

author’s note: i just wrote this for the vibez so ignore any weird pacing shit ik its off 😭. also not my best work BUT IM DONEE make sure to like and repost!!!

not proofread!

other fics

mark tapped his pen against his notebook, waiting for the minutes the pass by. he could hear dozens of conversations happening around him, but none of them were directed at him. it never was.

maybe it was because of the constant note taking or the stack of files he always carried, but most just assumed that he was stuck up. too smart to hang out with anyone, too focused on his grades to waste time socialising.

but in reality - he just didn’t know how to talk to people.

mark sighed, slouching further into his chair. he flipped through his notes, trying to focus but his mind kept getting distracted. he was supposed to tutor some girl after school - he didn’t even know who it was.

all the tutoring office said was that she would be meeting him at the library after his classes. he hoped that this session would be easier than his last, especially after that student ignored him and stuck to their phone the whole time.

mark glanced at his watch - ten minutes until the tutor session started. he gathered his things, stuffing his notebooks and textbooks into his bag before heading over to the library.

“just get this over with,” he muttered to himself.

he approached the row of tables reserved for tutoring, laying out the different notes and materials he had. the chances of him actually using them were low - after all, a lot of students booked tutoring sessions just to get their teachers off of their back, but it didn’t hurt to look like he was teaching something.

the squeak of a chair being pulled across him snapped him out of his thoughts. he looked up and froze.

it was you.

of course he recognised you, who wouldn’t? you were one of the prettiest girls on campus, scratch that, you were one of the prettiest girls mark has ever seen.

within the first month of school, you already landed a boyfriend - one of the popular senior football players. you were pretty and friendly, it was only natural that you were going to find someone that fast.

not only that, you didn’t get yourself into any drama. no flirting with other guys or bitching about other people behind their back, you were one of the unproblematic ones, rarely involved in rumours.

but the rumours about you smoking? yeah, those was definitely true. you were known for showing up to class buzzed but still managing to maintain relatively decent grades.

“you’re mark, right?” you smiled as you sat down. “thanks for doing this, i really need help.”

mark blinked, pushing his glasses up nervously. “y- yeah.. no problem.”

you reached into your bag, pulling out a few sheets of crumpled paper and pens.

“chemistry’s been fucking me over,” you said, brushing your hair out of your face. “i’m more of a ‘study last minute’ kind of person, but that’s hasn’t been working out recently.”

mark cleared his throat, trying to avoid your gaze. “well, that’s what i’m here for. let’s start with the basics.”

“thanks,” you leaned back into your chair, twirling a pen between your fingers. “i know you probably don’t tutor people like me much.”

mark frowned, raising an eyebrow. “people like you?”

you shrugged, crossing your legs. “you know.. people who barely show up to class.”

“i don’t care about that,” he shook his head, rearranging the table.

“good to know,” you yawned, rubbing your eyes. “sorry if i’m a little out of it, i smoked before coming here.”

“that’s… fine,” he nodded, unsure of how to respond and opened the textbook in front of him. “you know the basics about atoms, right? let’s focus on the details.”

mark walked you through the lesson, trying not to stumble over his words as you watched him intently. to his surprise, you didn’t just sit back and zone out like many did, you actually asked questions. and for someone who didn’t turn up much for class, you weren’t as lost as you made it sound.

the session went smoother than he thought, with him covering a few key concepts and giving you some notes to bring back and revise. you packed up your things at the end, flashing him a smile. “thanks mark, same time next week?”

he nodded slowly. “works for me.”

and you showed up - again and again.

at first, mark thought it was some weird obligation that you had towards either him or the tutoring system. but days turned into weeks, and it was clear: you weren’t just attending. you were learning.

he couldn’t believe it - someone like you, popular, the complete opposite of him, was actually listening to him.

you were taking his advice, asking questions, doing practices that he suggested and you even asked to see him everyday because you wanted to learn more. it was.. strange, but mark wasn’t complaining.

you set your pen down as you finished up with one of the problems. you looked up at him with a grin. “i think i finally did it.”

mark’s eyes widened, looking down at the worksheet. it was right, perfect even. “you- you actually got it. that’s.. good.”

you laughed, your voice light. “why do you sound so surprised? you’re a tutor.”

he rubbed the back of his neck. “i’m just.. not used to people listening to me.”

“why wouldn’t i?” you asked, tilting your head. “you’re good at teaching- you explain shit better than my professor.”

mark stared at you, wondering why his heart was beating a little faster than usual. you gathered your things, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “see you tomorrow, mark.”

“yeah,” mark said quietly, still stunned. “see you tomorrow.”

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“i got a seventy on my test!” you exclaimed, glowing with excitement as you waved your worksheet in front of him.

it had been about two months since you’ve started your sessions with mark, and your grades improved. you went from barely knowing anything about the subject to being able to solve complex problems - and it’s all thanks to mark.

you’ve grown to really appreciate the guy, and not just for his tutoring skills, but for his patience that he had when teaching you, especially when you asked a ton of questions.

“that’s great! i’m really proud of you,” mark said, a wide smile on his face. “you’re improving a lot.”

“well, it’s because of you. you’re super smart,” you said as you leaned back into the chair. “i’m surprised you don’t have a line of girls waiting for your attention.”

mark ran his fingers through his hair, giving a small, awkward chuckle. to be completely honest, mark did not have luck in the dating scene. even though he entered college, thinking that it was a place to meet new people - potentially a partner, his reputation of being ‘stuck up’ clung to him faster than he could blink.

but after a while, he got tired of being viewed that way, and he got tired of being single. right now, he needed to make changes, something that would make him more likeable or ‘relatable’ to others. but there was one problem: he didn’t know where to start.

“hey uh-“ mark said as he placed his notes on the table. “can i ask you something?”

“sure,” you nodded.

mark fidgeted with the edge of his textbook. “what do girls find cool.. or attractive in a guy.”

you paused, tilting your head. “that’s random. why do you ask?”

“i want to change things..” mark looked away, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “you know, things about me. i just wanted to know what girls liked nowadays.”

“you don’t need to change anything,” you frowned, leaning towards him. “you’re perfect just the way you are.”

“thank you-” mark felt a slight blush rising in his cheeks, but he ignored it, focusing on his question. “-but i really want girls to notice me, i don’t know what i’m doing wrong.”

you scoffed. “you’re not doing anything wrong. it’s their fault if they can’t see what an amazing guy you are…”

“…but you really want to know, huh?” you mumbled, crossing your arms.

mark finally looked back at you, nodding eagerly. you sighed, thinking about his question before continuing. “i don’t know what girls find ‘cool’ nowadays, but i think piercings are hot.”

“really?” mark’s eyes widened in surprise, not expecting that as your answer. “your boyfriend doesn’t have piercings.”

“he doesn’t like them, said that they weren’t his style,” you shrugged. “but i don’t care, everyone has their own thing.”

mark bit the inside of his cheek, tapping his foot against the floor out of habit. “where would someone go if they wanted piercings? you know- if i wanted one?”

“i actually did my own,” you said, tucking your hair behind as you showed him the variety of piercings on your ear. “it’s not too bad as long as you know what you’re doing.”

“you did them yourself?” mark’s eyes widened in surprise. “would you uh- could you do it for me..?”

you chuckled, nodding. “sure, if you really want to.”

“just let me know when you’re up for it and come over to my place,” you said with a wink. “and don’t worry, i’ll make sure it’s safe.”

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the smell of weed and smoke hit mark as soon as he entered your dorm. the windows were cracked open, but it didn’t do much to clear the air. a bag of green leaves sat on your coffee table next to a small glass pipe.

“sorry about the mess,” you said, waving your hand lazily to try and remove the smoke. “you kinda texted me in the middle of something.”

“sorry, i can leave if you-“

“nonono you can stay,” you grabbed his arm, bringing him over to the couch. “make yourself comfortable. it’s totally fine.”

mark sat down, trying not to focus on the haze in the air while you disappeared into another room. you came back a few moments later, holding a small case of needles, disinfecting wipes and jewelry.

“so, you’re very sure about this?” you asked as you sat beside him, spreading your supplies on the coffee table.

“yeah, i’m sure..” mark swallowed the lump in his throat. “i just don’t know what to get pierced.”

you looked at him for a second, then nodded. “alright, let me help you decide.” you scooted closer, grabbing his face, turning it from side to side as you inspected it.

your fingers on his skin made him more flustered than he’d like to admit, and he was sure that the heat rising to his face was noticeable. he couldn’t help but stare at you while you were so close, watching your wide eyes scan him.

“hmm,” you mumbled, slowly letting go of his face. “nose piercing.”

mark blinked, his mind taking a moment to catch up. “a nose piercing..?”

“mhm, it suits you,” you nodded as you grabbed your case of needles. “but if you don’t want a hole on your face, that’s fine. we can do your ears-“

“-no a nose piercing sounds good,” mark sat up straighter, nodding. he didn’t want to seem indecisive in front of you - not when you were giving him this much attention.

you smiled at his sudden enthusiasm, and picked up a fake nose ring and a mirror. “try this on first, see if you like how it looks.”

mark took the ring and mirror, ignoring how shaky his hands felt. he awkwardly held the ring up to his nose as he looked into the mirror. he thought he looked.. alright. there wasn’t as much as a difference as much as he’d like - but if you thought that it suited him, maybe he could trust that.

“well?” you asked, tilting your head.

he looked back at you, handing over your things. “i think it’s fine.”

“fine?” you grinned. “you look cool, trust me.”

mark chuckled nervously, fidgeting with his sleeves. “okay, let’s do it.”

you cleaned the area with a disinfectant wipe before pulling out a fresh needle and small nose ring from your kit, turning back to mark. “alright, this won’t hurt much. just a pinch.”

mark nodded, shifting nervously on the couch, trying to prepare himself as you moved closer to him.

“here,” you said, gently placing two fingers on his chin, guiding his face towards you. “stay still for me, okay?”

your closeness made it difficult for mark to focus. he could feel your breath, warm against his skin. and the smell of weed and vanilla scented perfume that always stuck to your clothes took over his senses.

his first instinct was to look directly at you - your eyes, your lips - but he quickly moved his gaze down to your hand instead, trying to keep his mind from wandering.

“don’t worry, i’ve done this a lot,” you reassured him, brushing a stray hair off of his face before your fingers returned to his chin.

mark felt a blush creeping up his neck. he glanced down at the coffee table, your bag, at the posters on your walls - anywhere but at your face or the way your body was leaning in. he gulped, feeling how you were aligning the needle.

“ready?” you asked, your voice soft.

he nodded, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief second before opening them quickly again when he realised how silly that looked. you pressed the needle through his nose, making mark wince slightly out of shock - but before he could fully register the pain, it was over.

“there, all done,” you said, your fingers lingering on his face as you fixed the small hoop in place. “that wasn’t too bad, right?”

mark exhaled, finally looking at you in the eyes as you leaned back. “yeah.. it wasn’t too bad.”

he reached up to touch the new piercing, still avoiding to look at you for too long. his face was warm, and he could still feel the ghost on your fingers on his cheek. his heart was pounding in his ear, but he kept his cool - after all, you had a boyfriend.

you smiled at him, clearly pleased. “told you it’d suit you. you look good, mark.”

good? mark pushed down the fluttering feeling he had in his chest, clearing his throat. “thanks..”

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during your next tutoring session, mark fidgeted with his new piercing, still getting used to how it felt. his eyes kept going back to you as you sat across him, completely focused on the problem he gave you.

“what else can i do?” he asked, breaking the silence. you glanced up, raising an eyebrow. mark cleared his throat, quickly blurting out, “to.. you know, change.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “mark, you really don’t need to do anything. you’re fine just the way you are.”

mark sighed, a little frustrated. “i know- you keep saying that.. but i want to do more.”

“well, it’s really not about how you look.” you paused, scanning him up and down. “but you need to start putting yourself out there. like, talk to people.”

mark blinked as he repeated your words. “talk to people?” he could barely talk to you without stuttering every few sentences, what made you think that he would be good enough to talk to other people? “how do i do that?”

you laughed softly, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “well, you’re already talking to me. all you need is a group of people to hang out with.”

mark looked up, meeting your eyes. “can i- can i hang out with you..?”

the words fell out of his mouth before he could even catch it. as soon as it did, he could feel his heart sinking. you could easily reject this idea - after all, you didn’t know each other that long.

he started to regret asking this question, feeling a bead of sweat run down his cheek. stupid. why did he ask that?

but then, to his surprise, he saw a smile form on your face. “sure,” you said casually, completely unaware of how he was spiralling. “i mean- the only person i really hang out with is my boyfriend, but i’m sure he’s fine with it. you can come with us, no big deal.”

mark nodded, trying to hide his relief. of course it was a big deal.

he was one step closer to actually having friends in college. even though mark had been meeting you for about three months, you only ever saw each other for tutoring sessions - which became less frequent recently.

sure, being a third wheel in your hangouts with your boyfriend might suck for a while, but if it meant having a friend? anything was better than drowning in textbooks as everyone else seemed to have their own lives.

this was his chance to get out of that - and he was going to take it.

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mark found himself hanging out with you and your boyfriend, tagging along in outings or ‘study sessions’ - which always started focused but would eventually lead to the both of you high, leaving mark awkwardly sitting in the middle of laughter and clouds of smoke. but he didn’t mind.

you lit a joint, inhaling deeply before passing it over to your boyfriend, who took it without a word. “want one?” you offered mark, turning to him.

“uh, no thanks,” he replied.

“suit yourself,” you said as you leaned back, smoke falling lazily from your lips.

your boyfriend was nice enough, trying his best to get along with mark, but there was always a distance there. mark could sense the slight discomfort whenever you invited him along. still, your boyfriend tried to hide it, clearly making an effort to be respectful and not push your new friend away.

still, it wasn’t all bad. in fact, there was a moment that felt.. a little different from the rest. like when you and mark were in the middle of your usual tutor sessions.

he was explaining a new concept to you, one that you managed to understand and focus on for a while - until mark’s phone lit up with a notification, revealing his wallpaper which had a character from your favourite series.

“wait, you watch the show?” you asked, your eyes lighting up as you pointed to his phone.

mark blinked, cutting his explanation short. “yeah.. you know it?”

“know it? dude- that’s like my favourite thing to see when i’m high,” you said with a grin, leaning closer. “i watch it all the time.”

mark chuckled. “seriously? i didn’t know you liked stuff like this.”

“it has a good plot, what can i say?” you said as you tucked your legs onto the chair. “plus, that show is hilarious when you’re baked.”

he couldn’t help but smile - it was rare to find someone who was interested in the same, niche things he did. and now, here you were, talking about it like it was the most normal thing in the world.

the two of you spent the next hour geeking over the show - talking about your favourite episodes, characters and moments that had you both on the floor.

at some point, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through screenshots of your favourite scenes, laughing as you shared them with him.

and that’s when it hit mark.

he was starting to like you. not just because you enjoyed the same things as him or actually took the time to get to know him - but you never made him feel like he had to be someone else around you.

you made him feel like a person, someone that didn’t need to change.

mark felt his heart clench. he pushed his feelings down, reminding himself that you had a boyfriend. but as he spent more time with you, it became harder to ignore. he was falling for you - slowly, without meaning to.

he glanced at you, still laughing at a clip on your phone, and mark could feel his heart racing. while he could pass off his feelings for you as a ‘simple crush’, the truth was far from that.

he wanted to be around you more, he wanted to make you smile, he wanted to make you laugh, he wanted to be the one that would hear you talk about random things that happened in your day, he wanted to be by your side, helping you with whatever you need.

but you’re taken, he reminded himself. no matter how much he tried to shove his feelings down, they kept bubbling up. and the more he denied them, the stronger they grew.

still, he kept quiet. for now, he was your friend, and he was happy with that - or at least that’s what he told himself.

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a few months passed, and in that time, mark gained more confidence - both in his appearance and in himself.

he started working out more, hoping that it would distract him from the feelings he had for you. while he did get healthier, one thing never changed: his massive crush on you.

he would always feel guilty when his heart raced whenever you spent time together, after all, you were in a relationship. but it was especially hard to suppress his feelings when you were sitting next to him, looking at him with twinkling eyes.

“do you understand?” mark looked up from his notebook.

you nodded, your attention moving back to your paper when suddenly - your phone buzzed.

you glanced at it, your expression changing as you read the notification. mark noticed the change immediately - you sat up straighter, your fingers gripping your phone more tighter than before.

“what’s wrong?” mark asked, frowning.

you took in a deep breath, turning your phone to show him a message you got on instagram.

“my friend just sent me this,” you clicked on the photo, and mark’s heart sank as he saw your boyfriend, sitting in the cafeteria with another girl - kissing her.

you stood up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a scrape. “i need to go,” you muttered, already halfway out the door.

“wait- where are you going?” mark called out, grabbing his jacket as he followed you out of the building.

“to the cafeteria,” you choked out, wiping tears with the back of your hand.

by the time you arrived, your hands were trembling. sure enough, there he was - your boyfriend, his arms around a girl in the middle of the busy cafeteria, completely oblivious to the world around him. rage and heartbreak hit you at once, and before you could stop yourself, you were shouting across the room.

“are you kidding me?”

heads turned, but at this point, you didn’t care. your boyfriend looked up, his face shocked before it turned into something.. detached. “oh come on, like you’re not cheating on me with mark?” he shot back, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

your eyes widened. “what the hell are you talking about? i’ve never cheated on you.”

“right,” he snorted, leaning into the girl next to him. “you’re always hanging out with him and talking to him like he’s the only one in the room. i’m not stupid.”

you were seething, tears brimming in your eyes. “i’ve been loyal to you- every single second of this relationship. i would never do that to you. but clearly, you don’t think the same.”

his smirk faded, but you didn’t wait for him to respond. you left, leaving him and his excuses behind.

mark followed you, but he didn’t say anything. you turned to him, your face stained with tears. “i can’t be in public right now,” you mumbled, your voice breaking.

he nodded, allowing you to lead him back to your dorm. soon enough, you slammed the door open, frantically searching your drawers for something. mark watched, his chest tightening when he realised what you were looking for - your stash of weed.

he stepped forward, placing his hand over yours. “that’s not a good idea.”

you sniffed, curling up into a ball. “but i don’t know what to do, it hurts.”

mark froze. he’s never been in a position where he had to comfort someone. but he knew one thing - the sight of you, broken and vulnerable, made his heart ache.

he sat beside you on the floor, his arms hesitating for a moment before wrapping around your shoulders. you leaned into him, letting out a shaky breath as you sobbed quietly into his chest.

“i don’t get it,” you whispered, clutching his shirt. “i thought he loved me.”

mark closed his eyes, his mind racing - but now wasn’t the time for his own feelings. right now, you needed comfort.

he rested his chin on top of your head, holding you tighter. “i’m so sorry,” he muttered. “you deserve much more than him.”

“i feel so stupid,” you said, your voice muffled by his shoulder. you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, the sounds of your sobs filling the room.

eventually, you pulled back slightly, wiping the trails of tears on your face. “sorry about that. i probably look horrible right now,” you mumbled, letting out a sad laugh. “i’m not a pretty crier.”

mark frowned, his thumb gently brushing the tears that were on your cheek. “that’s not true,” he said softly. “you’re always beautiful.”

you blinked, your tear-filled eyes widening just a bit. “you don’t have to say that-“

“-i mean it,” mark interrupted. his eyes softened, his hand still resting on your cheek. “and you don’t have to apologise for feeling hurt. none of this is your fault.”

for a second, you just stared at him, his words sinking in. you wiped your face again, giving a weak smile. “thank you, mark. i’m so lucky to have you.”

mark’s hand finally dropped from your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. “yeah,” he said quietly. “lucky.”

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weeks passed since that night and you had officially dumped your trash of a boyfriend. even though the wound was still fresh, mark noticed something.. different about you.

you were smiling more, laughing more.

you were always fun to be around, but now.. you were glowing - in a way that made it impossible for mark to ignore his feelings.

he knew it was wrong - he was supposed to be your friend, not falling for you. but as much as he tried to keep it together, jealousy would creep up from time to time

whenever you two hung out, guys would approach you - asking for your number, trying to get your attention or just flirting boldly.

you always declined, never showing much interest, but mark couldn’t help but feel jealous flare up within him. it was irrational, he knew that. he was just your friend, not your boyfriend. yet, the idea of you being with someone else ate him alive.

it didn’t help that the two of you had a weekly routine - after every tutoring session, you’d curl up together to watch your favourite comfort show. it became your thing, something that mark cherished more than he’d like to admit.

during one of your usual nights, he glanced over at you, sitting comfortably beside him. “why do you always turn them down?” he blurted out, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

“huh?” you looked at him, confused. “turn who down?”

mark cleared his throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “the guys.. i mean- every time we hang out, someone would hit on you, and you always reject them..” he hesitated, unsure of how to continue. “..i just wondered why.”

you chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. “they’re not my type,” you said, shrugging.

“w- what is your type then?” he blinked, his curiosity got to the better of him.

you raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as you leaned closer. “you.”

mark froze, his brain short-circuiting for a second. you? did you just..? his face flushed instantly and he opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. his mind scrambled to come up with something coherent, but all he could think about was the way your words made his heart skip several beats.

you laughed, clearly amused. “relax, mark,” you said with a grin, moving away and focusing on the TV. “i’m just messing with you.”

he chuckled awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair. “right.”

but after you returned back to the show, there was only one question that stuck to the back of his mind:

what if you weren’t just joking?

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rumours began to flood in not long after you broke up with your ex. you and mark had always spent time together, but now that you were single, people seemed to notice more - and they definitely had opinions.

“she broke up with the hottie just to hang out with him?”

“guess she was cheating with that loser the whole time.”

it didn’t take long for the whispers to reach the both of you, and you could see how much it was affecting mark. he was used to insults being thrown his way, but now that they were dragging you into it? it felt worse.

as you and mark were grabbing coffee after a tutoring session, a couple of girls at the next table were whispering loud enough for you to hear.

“she just dumped her boyfriend and now she’s with him? what a slut.”

you saw mark’s face tighten as he overheard, his fists clenching. the rumours didn’t bother you as much as him, but it pained you to see how upset he was.

“let’s go,” you muttered, grabbing your coffee as you motioned him to follow you.

as you walked outside, mark seemed quieter than usual, his shoulders slumped. he glanced at you, looking away quickly, his jaw clenched. “i’m sorry.”

you frowned, tilting your head. “for what?”

“people keep saying stuff about you because of me,” mark kept his eyes fixed on the ground. “you don’t deserve to have people spreading rumours like that.”

you stopped walking, grabbing his arm. “mark, stop. this has nothing to do with you, okay? people just talk for the sake of talking.”

mark’s eyes softened. as much as he wanted to believe that you didn’t care what people thought, but he couldn’t shake off the guilt. it wasn’t fair to you. you deserved more than what he could offer, and as much as he hated your ex, at least people respected you when you were with him.

in the days after that, mark tried his best to act normal. but he thought about the whispers every time you were together. whenever someone glanced your way or made an offhand comment, it felt like a punch to the gut.

you on the other hand, brushed off all the remarks, giving him a smile when he started to look too worried. but even then, he felt guilty.

without realising it at first, mark started to.. distance himself from you. it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around you - it was far from that. he just didn’t know how to deal with the guilt gnawing at him.

he’d watch you from across the lecture hall, a strange feeling twisting in his stomach. you would wave at him, but instead of feeling happy, it only made him feel worse. the thought of being the reason of why people started rumours about you haunted him.

sometimes, you would text him, asking if he wanted to hang out like dozens of times before. mark stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the send button.

he wanted to say yes. he always wanted to say yes.

but instead, he typed out: sorry, not today. got a lot of work to do.

it was a lie, but he convinced himself that distancing himself from you was the best move - it would save you from gossip, from judgement.

but you noticed his weird behaviour.

at your next tutoring session, he barely looked at you. instead of cracking your inside jokes or teaching you topics with excitement, mark kept his head down, focusing too much on the textbook in front of him.

“did i do something wrong?” you asked, frowning.

hearing the hurt in your voice made his chest tighten. the last thing he wanted was for you to think that this was your fault. “no,” he said quickly, too quickly.

“then what is it?” you leaned forward, your eyes narrowing. “you’ve been avoiding me. we don’t hang out anymore, and even if we do, you’re quiet.”

mark hesitated, trying to find the right words. how could he explain that every time you defended him or stood by his side, it made him feel worse? how could he tell you that you being around him was hurting your social life and he couldn’t stand to see people talking about you that way?

“i don’t think you should hang out with me anymore,” mark sighed, his face in his hands. “i’m only ruining your reputation.”

“ruining my reputation?” you paused, looking at him with genuine confusion. “mark, i don’t care about stupid shit like that. i hang out with you because i want to.”

mark gulped, his throat tight as he processed your words. “..i just don’t get why you still want to be friends with me.”

“i’m not going to stop being friends with you because people are talking,” you shook your head. “you’re important to me. i don’t care about them- i care about you.”

the way you said it so casually, like it was obvious, made mark feel a lot better than he thought it would. it wasn’t something that he was used to, and he didn’t know how to respond.

over the next few weeks, the two of you began to hang out again, returning back to your lame jokes, late-night movie marathons and study sessions. it was like nothing had changed, but at the same time, everything felt different. mark was relaxed around you again, but there was still an underlying tension that neither of you acknowledged.

sometimes, you would catch yourself looking at him longer than usual, noticing things you didn’t before - the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, how his hair fell messily over his forehead whenever he explained something to you or how he always shifted his posture when he got nervous.

maybe it was because mark had been there during your breakup, but you knew there was something more than that.

you found yourself thinking about him at random moments, wondering what he was doing or feeling. every time he laughed, warmth would spread through your chest - and you liked the sound a lot more than you’d like to admit, but you weren’t sure why you were feeling this way.

until one night.

it was a particularly long tutoring session and the both of you had been stressed over an exam. once mark finished explaining a difficult question, you leaned back with a sigh of relief.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you grinned.

mark glanced at you before quickly looking away. “you’d do just fine,” he mumbled, clearly flustered by the compliment.

you didn’t know why, but in that moment, it suddenly clicked. the way his face flushed whenever you praised him, how kind he had always been to you, how he was always there when you were down, and how safe you felt around him.

for the first time since your break up, you started to wonder if the person meant for you was in front of your face all along. sure, you didn’t know if the way he acted was because he liked you or it was his social awkwardness shining, but you knew one thing.

you were starting to fall for mark lee.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★.☘︎ ݁⋆｡𖦹°‧★.☘︎ ݁

you groaned, walking beside mark as you left the exam hall. “i’m definitely failing that.”

mark chuckled, glancing at you with a soft smile. “come on, it wasn’t that bad. we went through some questions like that, right?”

“yeah, but the questions we did were for college students, not astronauts,” you muttered.

mark laughed. “guess we’re intergalactic geniuses.”

“you’re so lame,” you rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help the smile forming on your face. as stressful as the exam was, mark would always try to make things better. he just had that kind of presence, the kind that made everything a little easier to handle.

he looked around for a second, trying to gauge your mood before turning back to you. “so.. movie night?”

“you don’t even need to ask,” you smirked, dragging him over to your dorm before he could say anything.

you kicked off your shoes and immediately threw yourself onto the comfort of your own couch, mark following close behind. he set up the movie without asking what to watch, already knowing your favourite shows by heart.

the weeks after your exams passed in a blur. unsurprisingly, the both of you did well - what else could you expect from someone as smart and focused as mark? his tutoring really paid off, even if it felt like you barely survived the questions.

with the stress of exams gone, you and mark had more free time to try new things. movie nights turned into cafe hopping, and tutoring sessions turned into karaoke. you even had time to get new piercings - on your ears and tongue.

mark was still awkward at times, still shy when you complimented him. but the both of you had gotten really comfortable around each other, talking about random things that happened throughout your day.

it felt like you were seeing him for who he was. it wasn’t just that he was smart or kind, there was something deeper than that - and maybe that was what pulled you to him.

after a long day, the both of you entered your dorm, carrying bags filled with different snacks. you needed more food and mark brought you to a really nice convenient store with chips and sweets you’ve never seen before.

your favourite show played in the background as you sprawled out on the couch, resting your head against the armrest as mark sat at the opposite end, quietly scrolling through his phone.

you looked at him, noticing how he was awkwardly fidgeting, his eyes glanced at you every few seconds before shifting away again. it was almost.. cute how nervous he was.

you moved closer to him, close enough to where your arms brushed against each other, sending a small jolt of electricity up your arms. you could hear the way his breath hitched in his throat as you turned to him.

“mark,” you spoke, your voice soft in the quiet room. “why do you always look away when i get close to you?”

mark’s face turned red, and for a second, he seemed too flustered to speak. “i.. i don’t,” he stammered, his eyes darting to your lips before looking down at his lap. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you just did it,” you chuckled. “am i that ugly to look at?”

“no-“ mark shook his head vigorously, his heart pounding in his ear. “it’s just hard to focus when your so close,” he gulped.

you raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on your face as you shifted closer, your knees touching his. “why’s that?”

mark fidgeted nervously, still not looking at you. “it’s.. i’m not used to being this close with someone,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

you bit your lip, trying to stop the laugh threatening to escape your lips. “well, you should get used to it, mark. i’m not going anywhere.”

his face grew impossibly red, and when he finally looked at you, his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, before he quickly looked away again.

“i don’t think i’ll ever get used to it,” he said, his voice strained. “not when it’s with you.”

you leaned back slightly, your eyes widening in surprise. “what do you mean?”

mark hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard before forcing himself to speak. “i mean- you’re not just anyone to me,” he muttered, playing with the edge of shirt.

your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in. while you weren’t sure if he actually liked you, hearing it from him made your chest have a fluttering feeling.

“you’ve been more than just a friend to me for a while now..” he turned to you as he ran his fingers through his hair. “but i never said anything because.. well- you had a boyfriend and i didn’t want to ruin things between us.”

“i..” you whispered. “i thought you were just-“

“-awkward?” mark finished for you, laughing nervously. “yeah, that too.”

you looked at him, a little shocked. the man, who always supported you, taught you, was patient with you, actually liked you? everything was falling into place a lot better that you’d thought.

however, mark took your silence as a sign of rejection, stumbling over his words. “it’s fine if you don’t like me, i just-“

“-mark,” you interrupted, putting your hand on his shoulder. “it’s okay.”

he froze, his eyes meeting yours. for a moment, the two of you stared at each other, the silence growing heavier with each second. the only thing you could hear was the noise from the tv, and even then, it started to fade away.

“have you-“ you took in a deep breath, hesitating before you spoke. “have you ever.. kissed someone before?”

he blinked, his entire body tensing at the question. “i uh- i’ve never..”

“do you want to?”

mark’s breath caught in his throat, and you could see the nervous excitement flash in his eyes. yet, his face flushed with embarrassment as he spoke. “..but i don’t have a lot of experience.”

you giggled softly. “that’s okay,” you whispered, leaning in a little closer, your lips barely inches away from his. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

mark’s heart pounded in his chest, and for a while, he didn’t move. he wanted to - desperately, but what if he messed it up? what if he wasn’t as good as you expected?

but then, in that moment, he realised that this is what he wanted. he wanted you. even if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing, he wanted to try.

“i.. i do,” he whispered.

you smiled, your hands cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing softly against his skin. “then let me show you,” you said.

you leaned in, slowly, giving mark all the time in the world to pull away if he wanted. but he didn’t. instead, he closed the distance, his lips meeting yours.

it was slow and careful, almost hesitant - but you didn’t rush him. you let him find his rhythm, your lips moving gently against his, guiding him.

the kiss deepened slightly, and mark’s breath hitched as your tongue brushed against his, the cool metal of your piercing surprising him. he let out a small gasp as he pulled back. “you have a-“

“a piercing?” you said, showing your tongue just a bit. “sorry, i forgot to tell you.”

mark blinked, looking at your tongue then back at your eyes. “i- it’s fine.. i just didn’t expect it.”

you smiled, finding his reaction adorable. “want to try again?”

he nodded, this time more eagerly. the second kiss felt different - still gentle, but now he was more curious. his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer.

the coolness of your piercing made him shiver, but he didn’t move away. instead, he leaned into the kiss, like he wanted to explore more.

there was something sweet and innocent about the way he kissed you, like he was trying to memorise every second, every sensation.

you let out a small hum of approval, running your fingers through his hair, encouraging to relax a little more. you could feel him melting beneath your touch, his shoulders relaxing as your bodies pressed against each other.

you tilted your head slightly, guiding him without pushing. the way his lips moved became more confident as his fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

when the both of you pulled back, breathless, mark’s brown eyes were wide - his lips parted as he looked at you like he was still processing everything that just happened, like he couldn’t believe it was real.

“was that better?” you whispered.

mark’s cheeks turned into a bright red, his face warm as he gave a small nod. “y-yeah i think i’m starting to get used to it,” he muttered, glancing at your lips again.

“i’m glad,” you grinned, tracing your thumb against his cheek as your heart fluttered. “cause there’s gonna be a lot more coming.”

his eyes softened, his nervousness fading a little more. “i can’t focus when i’m with you,” he said with a shy laugh.

you tilted your head, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “maybe i’m trying to distract you.”

“well, you’re doing a good job,” he admitted, his words spreading warmth through you. he was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was real - that you were here, with him, and not some dream he was about to wake up from.

“…i didn’t know you had a tongue piercing,” he said, his lips still tingling from the kiss.

you laughed softly. “yeah, i got it recently. what do you think?”

“i like it,” mark smiled, resting his hand on top of yours. “a lot,” he whispered, leaning in for another kiss.

any and all feedback appreciated <3

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nyrasbloodyclover · 1 month

Text

a hot welcome (modern!aegon targaryen x reader)

cw: smut, p in v, fingering, reader is a virgin, aegon targaryen is a perv, daeron bff,

a/n: i am not really satisfied with this, but i had to finish it. anyway, i am logging out for some time. see you soon!

"I need you to help me pack, Daeron."

"No you don't, do it yourself. In case you forgot, I have to pack too."

Since you two became friends in freshman year, you were inseparable. You helped each other study, you hung out all the time and now he asked you to accompany him on his trip to visit his family, since they lived across the country.

"I thought you were finished! We have to leave in an hour!"

"This is why you don't have any friends. You think anyone would want to put up with this?"

"And this is why you don't have a girlfriend!"

You could've gone for hours like that, but it was really time to go.

Thirty minutes later, you were finished, and on your way.

The flight was pretty short, and you felt the nerves kicking in. The main reason Daeron asked you to come with him was that he didn't really like his family. Especially his brothers.

And from the stories you heard, you weren't a fan of them either.

Aegon was a drunk and a pervert (not Daeron's exact words, but your conclusion) and Aemond was cold and distant, emotionally unavailable probably.

Helaena was fine, she even visited a couple of times. Daeron rarely came home and his mother was very worried. She made him promise that he'd come once the school year was over.

You really had no other friends. You were glad you met him, but other people tend to be loud and too much work. You hated that.

Alicent picked you up from the airport, visibly on edge, because she wasn't very present during Daeron's childhood, but he never mentioned it. Not once. He was asking about his siblings and their pets and Alicent's new potential boyfriends. He was really nice and you loved him because of that. You tried to join their conversation, but failed so you kept quiet until you came home.

Once you got into the house Helaena was the one who greeted you, with a smile and a spider crawling up her arm.

"Oh my god! Wait, you have—" I tried to brush the little creature off, but she just laughed.

"That's my new pet. Wanna hold him?"

"Uh... Yeah, sure." She was kind and you really liked Helaena, you'd also like to get to know her better.

"Stop bothering her, sister. She just got here." It was an unfamiliar male voice and he was walking down the stairs.

Unkept shoulder length hair, dirty mouth and half closed eyes? Yes, that was Aegon.

"Why? So that you could bother her? Leave us alone."

You recognized him from Daeron's stories and he wasn't exaggerating, everything was on point. You could practically feel, not the mockery, but the perverse part of him coming to the surface.

"Hi. Aegon, right?"

His smile was twisted. "And for how long will this pretty thing be staying with us, Daeron?" He was walking over to the kitchen and your friend frowned at his brother.

"Aegon, don't."

"What?" He laughed, "It was merely a question."

Later that day, Daeron showed you your room, it was a guest room, larger than the apartment you shared with Daeron. His family was pretty wealthy.

If you'd only looked at Aegon, you could never tell.

While you were unpacking, you sensed someone's presence behind you, but before you could turn around, he was already sitting on your bed, looking like a very happy puppy. Who might do things to you if you let him.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, at least I think so. If you cooperate."

"Have you been drinking?"

"No," he giggled, he actually giggled.

"Would you please get out?"

Aegon got up and instead of leaving the room, he closed the door. You two were alone in your temporary bedroom.

"Aegon. Please get out, I don't want anything to do with you." But that was a lie. A big, fat, lie.

You wanted him to ruin you to your core, until there is nothing left for him to take. You never even had your first kiss.

It was the attention. Nobody gave you this much attention in your life, at least not in that way.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire..."

"You are so drunk. Isn't it almost dinner time? Are you going out?"

"No. Just came here...For you."

He stepped closer towards you and the back of your knees hit the bed. If he decides to come any closer, you'll have to crawl over your bed which you don't plan on doing.

Aegon could practically smell the innocence on you. It made him go mad. It made him go into his room and drink the whole bottle of wine in a heartbeat, only to be brought into your room, while you were bending over that bed, unpacking.

Daeron warned him, but he didn't give a shit. He's going to have you, one way or another.

Now you were all flushed, waiting for his next move and he didn't plan on wasting any more moments.

His hands were in your hair and in a second he was pulling you in and kissing you, devouring you and Aegon tried to slip his tongue inside your mouth, but you were still too stubborn.

You pulled away, pressing a hand over your mouth, like you've done something sinful. He loved the taste of you, and he wanted more of it.

"You..." You couldn't even look at him. How he wanted to spread you on that very bed until you can't walk.

He was ready to continue, but there was a knock on the door. Daeron.

"Dinner is ready. Mother already called, but I wasn't sure if you heard..."

"Coming!" You managed to get out, but your voice was shaky. Your face was burning.

During the dinner everyone ate silently, and at some point you could feel Aegon's knee brush against yours while he watched you from across the table. You tried to remain calm but your face grew hotter every second. You crossed your legs and he didn't fail to miss it.

His drunken eyes wandered over you, especially your cleavage in a shirt that was a bit more revealing. You forgot about it, but then cursed yourself for wearing it in such a moment.

It was thankfully over soon and you got to shower, finally! You were just finishing washing your hair when you heard the door open.

Aegon couldn't see anything, but you were paralyzed.

He took off his shirt and you had to admit, you wanted to be able to see somehow. You had no idea what his deal was, but it made your knees tremble.

"Aegon, what is it?"

"Nothing." You could see the outline of his body, he was completely naked now and he was walking towards you.

"Stop. I'm getting out. Give me a towel."

To your surprise, he obeyed and tossed you a large towel to wrap around your body. When you slid the door open his naked body flashed you, but you prepared mentally, so you didn't react, and certainly did not look anywhere besides his face and the smug expression he was giving you.

Despite your best efforts, you saw black ink of his tattoos and that was the last straw, you bolted from the bathroom.

It wasn't until you were in your room that you remembered you left your clean clothes there.

You cursed yourself, but took a spare shirt you had and used it as a pajama.

You peeked from your room to see if the bathroom was empty, and when you saw the light was out, you ran to get your things, but what took you by surprise is that the clothes were still there, all except for your underwear. Which was at the top of the pile.

Maybe you left them in your room, you didn't know, but you were too tired to care, anyway, so you got under the covers and took some time to read your book. You were so close to drifting away, but a strange noise awoke you. Like someone was in pain. It was the room beside yours.

No, not in pain, you realized, embarrassed. It was male moaning and occasional whimpering. And it was Aegon.

Was it possible that you got the room that was so close to his? You knew that he was doing that on purpose, touching himself, just to make you even more flustered.

You had trouble sleeping that night, refusing to acknowledge the pain and wetness between your legs. You woke up around four in the morning and decided to drink some cold water and try to calm down. Your heart was hammering against your chest, remembering the sounds of pleasure Aegon was making.

You opened your door, but before you could go down the stairs, you felt someone's hand on your mouth, pulling you backwards, until you were in another room. You didn't even get to panic properly. But of course, when you turned, it was Aegon who was smiling at you. It was almost dark in his room.

"What the fuck?" You whispered.

He didn't answer, but he did pull you towards him and start kissing you, no, swallowing your face would be more appropriate. It caught you off guard, but you weren't mad. You wanted him to take control, you were desperate for it.

"Ever been fucked?" He mumbled in between kissing.

"N...No," you breathed out, every part of your rationality leaving, there was just him, only him. He grinned and seemed quite satisfied with your answer. He wanted to be the one who is going to destroy you.

Just in your shirt, it was easy for him to start touching you immediately, not having to remove any clothing. You gasped at the feeling of his fingertips.

You ended up on his bed, not being able to see clearly, dizzy from the sight of him.

His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and slowly touched your clit, using your wetness to prepare you for him after slipping one finger inside of you.

"We are just getting started. Relax," he whispered the last word in your ear as his finger slid in and out. Aegon kissed your neck and collarbones, just to soothe you before slipping in another finger. He did his best to stretch your walls before entering you.

"Aegon," you covered your mouth with your hand, remembering where you were and who might hear you.

He looked at you like you were a piece of meat he was ready to butcher.

Telling you nothing more, you suddenly felt him rubbing himself against your folds. Teasing you at your entrance, making you squirm beneath him.

"I was going to wait. I really was." He grunted, but continued, "I couldn't do it, it was a perfect opportunity and this is how you're going to spend every night in this house."

Your hips moved, needing him to touch you, bury himself deep inside you. And that's precisely what he did.

He went slow. Just the tip, and then he went deeper and deeper, the pain growing, but it was quickly switched with pleasure.

He slammed his dick inside you, making you cry out in pain, not yet accustomed to him. "You're going to ride me so well, I know it." Aegon's fingers dig deep into your hips.

He even forgot to take off your panties, it was stretched to the side while he kept going in and out, without mercy.

You dragged your nails against his bare back, leaving red marks behind. You realized he probably slept just in his underwear.

He pulled himself out of you, making you gasp at the sudden emptiness.

"Shh, it's okay, come here," he gestured towards himself. Aegon was now laying down and you supposed you knew what he wanted. You were scared.

"But I've never— I don't know how—"

"Nonsense." He guided your hips towards his cock and pulled you down on him, again, very slowly and then started moving you in the rhythm that was good enough for both of you.

You continued as he showed you, his hands were on your ass, squeezing until it hurt.

You felt him deep, throwing your head back, but keeping your mouth shut.

Aegon grunted, but then a moan escaped his mouth, "Do it faster." And you tried to listen to him, you gave him your best and he seemed satisfied enough.

When you reached your peak, you stopped moving completely, letting yourself squeeze him, your thighs trembling. Aegon held your hips in place and then pulled out, but continued to rub himself on your still sensitive clit.

Your moans were what set him off and he came all over his and your stomach, gasping for air once you both fell on the bed beside each other.

"I am going to teach you so many things."

You just hoped nobody finds out. And when you turned your head you saw your missing underwear, sitting on top of Aegon's nightstand still wet.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii fanfic #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #hotd #modern aegon #aegon x reader #king aegon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the second #aegon ii x reader #hotd aegon #tom glynn carney

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babushkatty · 9 months

Text

Tranquil SAGAU - Part 6

-> Part 1

-> Part 5

With Dvalin gone, you were left basically homeless. Not that it was much of an issue, not really. The forests had been very kind to you -- you could easily live the life of a hermit if you so wished, without having to worry about food, water, shelter or animal attacks.

But it would also be horribly lonely. No compassionate silence, no background noise and buzz of other people scurrying around and going about their day without minding you, no one to speak to if you ever felt the need to.

You liked being alone, but you were still human and humans were social animals.

Soooooo, you promptly asked Crepus about working in his Winery in exchange for accommodations, because 'one that asks, does not stray'... or something like that anyways. Your sister always made her life that much harder because she outright refused to ask for help even when hopelessly lost or overwhelmed, so there must be something to the saying at least.

"You don't have to work to earn your keep, (Name). I'd be more than happy to house you as my guest for however long you want!" is what Crepus 'Sunshine Personified' Ragnvindr responded with.

Crepus used Puppy Eyes, it was super effective!

You laid defeated, a puddle of cuteness overload once again wishing for sunglasses to protect yourself from the blinding smiles and imaginary wagging tails.

Crepus was horrible for your heart.

Still, you would go insane if left with nothing to do for days at a time, so you went to turn the Ragnvindr library upside down with Crepus' blessing, a bunch of notebooks, a bunch of pens and a delusion that you'd do any actual studying in there.

This was Teyvat, but this wasn't Genshin Impact -- a library wouldn't have interesting lore, it'd have dry history and even drier geography, accompanied by boring economics and even more boring politics (which was a damn shame too, politics were so interesting when written right).

You never quite had a head for those, prefering subjects with more practical applications that could be practiced instead of having to be beaten into your thick skull until you memorized it just long enough to write the exam.

Though for some ungodly reason you still remembered that onions were actually leaves. It was one of the very few things you remembered from school, actually.

Probably the trauma speaking.

Still, you did find some interesting books - a diary speaking of the Decarabian rule, for example.

Today, I don my very own Windblume.

I can only hope Lord Decarabian never learns of its' significance.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The winds are particularly harsh today.

I am afraid, but I smile and play my lyre as if nothing were happening at all, like I always do.

Sometimes, I forget if what I do is to reasure the people or to delude myself that everything is as it should be...

Then again, does it matter when the result remains the same?

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The people are growing restless.

Their yearning for freedom gave birth to a small wind spirit that seems fond of my playing. It is an adorable being, even if it has yet to communicate with us.

It remind me of a newborn puppy.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The people are planning a rebellion.

I want to help, but how can I? I am no soldier, my strength lays with the pen and the lyre, not with the sword.

Ragnvindr told me there was no need for more warriors, that I was doing enough by keeping the morale up with my performances... I am hesistant to believe him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The little spirit has spoken for the first time today.

It said that it knew the song I was playing, despite it being a new piece I was in the midst of creating, and sang along to lyrics I had yet to write.

It was strange, but it made me happy nonetheless.

Perhaps I was strange too, for feeling that way.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

You had a suspicion on who the author of the diary was by that point. Maybe Crepus would be open to giving this diary to Venti, instead of it gathering dust on the shelf?

Idly, you wondered how it had survived so long, but figured Ragnvindr and his descendants took good care of it.

I met Ragnvindr today.

Something compelled me to share my worries with him, even though I knew he had enough weight on his shoulders and I ought not to add more.

"If you cannot trust in yourself, then trust in me and my trust in you instead" he told me.

It helped.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

Meetings regarding the rebellion are more and more frequent. Ragnvindr, alongside a man named Amos, have convinced the Gunnhildr clan to participate against all odds.

I can understand their hesitance. Should we fail to kill Lord Decarabian, their legacy would be no more.

I admire their bravery.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

The wind has long since realized change is imminent, even when Lord Decarabian himself has not - the little spirit said so.

King of Gales indeed, even the wind has rebelled against him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

Ragnvindr speaks of a bad premonition.

In truth, my heart is uneasy as well, but how can I share those feelings with anyone but myself? It is not the time to bother others with my issues -- it is time to reassure everyone, to rouse their spirit and not to let fear take root even as they stand against a God. It is my duty as a bard and as a fellow rebel.

The Windblume feels particularly heavy as I write this.

I fear I will not live to see tomorrow's sunset, but I fear for my dearest friends and for Mondstadt even more.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

My little spirit friend is still without a name.

I know it does not bother them, they are the wind itself after all, but I would still like to give them a name others can remember them by.

A name that they can remember me by once I pass on, selfish as it is to bind an immortal to a memory.

But I am selfish, even if Ragnvindr may see me as a paragon of virtue. I am a human and to be human is to be flawed. I am not ashamed of it, even if I often feel guilty for it.

Perhaps it will be the very last thing I achieve in this life of mine.

It is hard to name them.

I've thought of many names up until now.

Caelus. Liberius. Aella. Calliope. Achill. Carmine. Hilarius. Hanne. Zephyrinus. Dieter. Sascha. Scilla. Paulus. Notus. Veronica. Agna. Vergil.

Those are just a few of the ones I discarded.

None fit.

I can only hope the right name reveals itself when it is time.

.　 . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆

That was the last entry.

You closed the diary and carefully put it aside.

☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ* ✨ Author Note✨

It was not supposed to be mostly nameless bard POV via old diary.

It really wasn't.

Mans literally kidnapped the chapter entirely against my will while I was half asleep yesterday and attempting to write at nearly midnight and I was powerless to stop it, on god.

But hey, at least we got potential Venti bonding set up for the future?

I was planning for more fluff, but I also have no outline for this, so my chapters have a chance of getting kidnapped at any time.

✨BY THE WAY!!!!✨

The charm of spontaneous writing, I guess?

If you have something you want to happen - for example we're in the library right now, so maybe you want a book about a specific tidbit to appear - do let me know, maybe I'll write it in!

I had 2 tests and 1 retake yesterday and holy shit i got through all of them and tomorrow is last day of uni then it's ✨HOLIDAYS✨

✨Taglist✨

@game-savvy @chaoticfivesworld @mmeatt @avalordream @ymechi @andromeda-gay @naynayaa @undecidingfate @thedevioussmirk @tumb3ld0wn @balaur-bondoc @yi-chii @yarabutterfly @nervouseaglelover @vexingpraedyth @indelible-colouring-markers @whitefantasy21-blog @kapitankarate

#genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #genshin impact #x reader #genshin x reader #isekai #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #self aware genshin

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bucketslutz · 1 month

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Don't Be Late (Logan Howlett/Fem mutant reader)

Chapter 1

(A/N): btw this takes place in an alternate universe where the x men as a team don't really exist, but the members and mutants obviously still do. readers powers are similar to atom eve from invincible, if you haven't seen that show i highly recommend it, but if not, you don't really need to know any of that to understand readers powers, they'll be explained in more detail later on.

Summary: You've spent your entire academic career trying to hide who you really are, your goal to end up working in a small museum or archive and live the rest of your life going unnoticed. The first day of grad school you meet someone that sparks something deep inside you that you never thought existed. Your history professor, Logan, makes you feel things you've never felt from someone before. Will you keep hiding your feelings, or will you get too close and risk him knowing who you really are?

Warnings: 18+!! explicit sexual content, minors DNI!! pls!!! oral (fem recieving), logan being a munch lowk, oral on the couch, teasing, dirty talking, cursing, logan being an asshole professor, no use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3,208

You anxiously rub your forehead as you struggle to find parking on campus, circling and circling the lot. Finally, someone pulls out and you turn in aggressively, someone in front of you flips you off, probably eyeing the same spot. You’re late. Very late. You have an American Civil War class, it’s an advanced level, with a professor whose name you cannot remember for the life of you. You’ve been preoccupied this summer, and time escaped you before you got the chance to research his credentials. It’s your first day of grad school and you’re late. A long commute, a new college, and shitty parking. You hope to god the professor doesn’t care or notice when you slip in late, as you carry a specific kind of disdain for drawing attention to yourself.

You were 13 when you first noticed something was wrong, walking home alone from school when a stranger tried to pin you down and do god knows what to you, until your eyes glowed a deep fuchsia and you threw him across the alley with a strength you didn’t even know you had. Your veins began glowing the same pink color and pulsating, scaring you shitless. You ran to the woods behind your house, avoiding your family for fear of harming them. With enough practice over the years, you’ve learned to control your abilities. Your eyes only glowing occasionally when you’re especially frustrated or angry. Sometimes even when you’re…taking care of some sexual urges. While you don’t know what causes these powers, you do know the general population’s feelings about mutants enough to understand that no one can know what you are. You don’t keep boyfriends for longer than 3 months, you don’t let friends become closer than you need them to be, and you don’t tell anyone what you are. You just want a normal life.

Your forehead is slick with sweat by the time you arrive at the history building, your breath heavy and labored, not from how fast you were walking to the building, but from anxiety, which is also the source of the excessive sweat on your brow. You cannot recall this courses class size, and you damn yourself for forgetting to check; not knowing if you can slip into the large class quietly or if everyone will be able to see you come in. This isn’t undergrad where people stumble in hungover with 10 minutes left of class, this is a graduate program where people go on to become masters in their fields of study. And you’re going to look like a fool in front of everyone. You approach the door to the classroom and can see through the window that it is, in fact, a small class. Fuck. There are maybe 15 people in there total. You hold your breath as you attempt to quietly push the door open, but it fails you with a loud, obnoxious creak. Every head snaps towards you, including the teacher, and you offer a meek smile to your classmates and turn your head towards the professor to issue a brief apology. You swallow hard when your eyes land on him. his tall frame is leaning against the white board, a little scary looking with muscles that bulge against his crossed arms, peaking out from under his rolled up sleeves. You’re surprised they’re visible even through his plaid button-up. His hair is fluffy, dark, as well as his beard…or actually, you should say mutton-chops, as that would be a more accurate descriptor. He glares at you, and you swear you’ve held his gaze for hours, but realistically it’s only been no more than a few seconds.

“Sorry,” you offer timidly.

The professor nods lightly, his jaw tense, and waves you off as he continues addressing the class. You attempt to quietly maneuver to an empty seat in the back, trying your hardest to not trip over your classmate’s bags and chairs. You feel like it takes forever to get to your seat, hoping no one pays too much attention to how clumsily you scoot past the chairs and over obstacles. You try and settle as quietly as possible, unzipping your shoulder bag and retrieving a pen to take notes. He’s still going over the syllabus, thank god.

“The only homework you’ll have is an essay, every week—every Friday—you have an essay due. Then every 3 weeks you’ll have an exam,” he instructs, rather nonchalantly. “And while I don’t give a shit if you waste your money and don’t come to class,” his eyes suddenly are fixed onto you, you swallow a lump of anxiety lodged in your throat as he continues, “The school cares a helluva lot more so, if you don’t mark your name down on the attendance sheet, you forget, you’re late, or whatever the hell, you’ll be absent. I’m not going back in and fixing shit.”

Noted. He turns his gaze back to the rest of the class and continues talking about the curriculum for the rest of the semester. you try to keep your head down as you scribble notes into your notebook, trying to look busy, when in reality you want to kick yourself in the face. You left your apartment too late, you didn’t anticipate the amount of traffic on the interstate, and you conveniently forgot how terrible parking is on college campuses. You look up to see the professor checking his wristwatch with a furrowed brow, like he’s considering something.

“Alright, that’s all i’ve got today, get out,” he commands, his gravelly voice showing slight indignation.

There’s a general look of confusion around the room at his abrupt dismissal with 45 minutes left of class. As people begin to shove their belongings in bags, you quickly get the memo as you collect your notebook and pen in your hands and stand up, ready to depart from this nightmare as soon as possible. But you’re the last in your row, shoved into a corner. the line of people in front of you have their chairs pushed back to the wall as they slowly collect themselves. It takes an obnoxiously long time for you to get out from behind the the long row of desks, even longer to leave the class as everyone shoves their way past you and out the door. Finally, you find an opening, but before your foot can even reach the threshold, there’s a strong grip on your arm. You turn your head to meet the gaze of your professor. Your heart skips a beat as he maintains eye contact briefly, before he hands you a piece of paper and lets go of your arm.

“Find your name, mark it,” he directs, causing you to scramble for the pen in your hands as you scan the paper for your name.

You try and offer a polite smile to the professor, but he remains stoic and unamused, making you feel even more uncomfortable. Once you find your name, you ungracefully set the paper against your flimsy notebook for structure, and scrawl a shaky check mark next to your name. You offer the paper back to him.

“Here, thank you, um, professor…” you trail off awkwardly, forgetting that you never actually checked what his name was. He takes the attendance sheet from you.

“Logan,” he answers.

“Ah, thank you professor Logan—”

“No,” he cuts you off with a wave of his hand, “just Logan.”

“Logan, right. thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says, his tone far from indicating the typical politeness of the statement, and rather literally cautioning you to never bring up this act of kindness again. And with that you turn to leave the class, unsure of why this gruff, sturdy, serious professor bended his own personal rules just for you. But no matter with that, you at least know you’ll never be late to his damn class again.

***

You pull into the driveway of your house with a sigh. It's late, the time you prefer to get home, so you can fully relax and use your powers in peace. Despite living in the middle of nowhere, you still fear someone will mistakenly pull into your driveway and catch you flying into your second story window or creating an apple from nothing. The lack of sound, except that of the chirping crickets and cicadas, puts you at ease. You release the tension in your shoulders and float off of the ground, propelling yourself to the patio on the second story of your house. You unlock the door with a flick of your wrist, the fuchsia energy encasing the doorknob and letting you into your bedroom, you then toss your things down onto the floor. An exhausted groan escapes your lips as you face plant onto your cool, soft bed. Not even coming up for air when you fling your arm up and slam the door shut with a pink, crystalline whoosh. You turn over to face the ceiling, your eyes fluttering shut within the comfort of your bed. Longing to get out of your stuffy jeans and bra, you trail your hands over your body and watch as your clothes dissipate into a pink flash while you manifest some boxer shorts and a loose t-shirt. Finally comfortable, you slide under the covers, wanting to sleep off one of the most stressful days you've had in a while. A morning full of classes, then 5 hours interning at the museum, before finally finishing off your day at the convenience store down the road working a 6 hour shift. While you can create most anything you want with your powers, you cannot create the full nights sleep that you most desperately need right now.

As you drift, you think about how embarrassing of a morning you had. Stumbling into class like a fawn learning how to walk, Logan directly looking at you when speaking about attendance, Logan shoving the attendance sheet in your face so you mark yourself as present, Logan's strong arms and the way they looked with his sleeves rolled up. Logan's fluffy, dark hair and--No. Shut up. Don't think about that, he's your professor for god's sake. And, more importantly, an asshole. No amount of muscle or sheer sexiness will distract from that fact. You repeat this fact to yourself as you doze off, not wanting to give in to immature thoughts of attraction. Despite falling asleep to the negation of that attraction, your subconscious drifts somewhere you know you shouldn't physically go.

You're in Logan's office, your ass perched on the edge of his desk. Logan's back is to you, locking his door and drawing the blinds. He turns to you, his stance almost primal and animal-like, like he can't wait for the chance to devour you. The thought of that causes your arousal to swirl deep in your stomach. Logan saunters towards you, bearing his lower teeth like a predator ready to take their prey. Your breath hitches in anticipation as he gets closer, causing you to spread your legs, hoping the clear view of what lies beneath your skirt will draw him in closer. It seemingly works as he closes the distance between you two, his waist now flush against your lower stomach. Tingles shoot down your spine at the sudden contact, blood rushing down to your pussy. He pants as he brings his hands to your waist and strokes up and down the sides of your body, then achingly slow up your neck, then finally stopping at your chin. One hand creeps to the nape of your neck where he lays his palm flat while the other pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes flutter shut, anticipating that he's close to having his way with you. He holds you there for a beat, his face so tantalizingly close to yours that you can feel his breath against your skin. You whine gently when his lips teasingly graze your own. The fingers pinching your chin adjust slightly to grip your jaw instead, allowing him better control to tilt your head up towards him. His other hand, at the nape of your neck, travels upward allowing his fingers to gently rake through your hair until he roughly takes a fistful and tugs. A soft moan escapes your throat and you try to satiate the throbbing pressure between your legs by rubbing your thighs together. An amused huff leaves Logan's lips as he looks down at your squirming figure beneath him.

"You gonna be good for me, princess?" he asks in a low, gruff tone as the hand on your chin trails down the side of your neck before landing on your breast. He massages the flesh fervently, finding it harder to hide his own desperate arousal and need from you. You moan into his touch and arch your back into him, your pussy searching for more friction that Logan is expertly avoiding giving you by not allowing his pelvis to meet yours.

"Logan," you gasp.

"C'mon, baby," his voice soothes, like smooth velvet, "tell me you want it."

"I want it," you whisper, desperately seeking any sort of release.

"Good girl."

And with that, Logan removes the hand on your breast so he can aggressively hook an arm under your ass and easily hoist you up with one fell swoop. Your legs wrap around his waist and your arms around his neck, reveling the feel of his palm that covers your asscheek. With a growl Logan spins you around and throws you onto the couch in the corner of his office, barely allowing you a second to recover when he crawls on top of you and captures your lips with his own desperately. The kiss is aggressive and needy, tongues dancing together ungracefully, teeth clashing, hasty lip bites between kisses. His hips grind against yours roughly, causing you to hook both your feet around his ass to keep him there for as long as you can, desperately seeking more friction. His hands alternate with each other between grasping your breasts to gripping your face passionately. Without breaking the kiss, he hooks his arms under you and drives you further up the couch so your upper back lays against the armrest. You whine when his lips leave yours, but it's quickly replaced with a moan as his lips travel down your neck, chest, the stomach he exposes by lifting the hem of your shirt, biting the fabric at the waistband of your skirt. You squirm underneath him, anticipating what's gonna happen next as his face nestles between your legs. He licks, bites, sucks, and kisses the skin of your inner thighs, causing you to gasp with each harsh move of his mouth, before promptly melting into a moan when he alleviates his biting or sucking with a kiss or flick of his tongue. Your clit is throbbing, your pussy aching for him to get closer to your center. So he does. His tongue dances along the edge of your panties, not dipping much further into the fabric, his head alternating between each of your lips. You whine desperately as Logan's mouth hovers above your core, his hot breath teasing you further. He looks up at you and into your eyes as his mouth latches onto your thinly clothed pussy, causing you to squirm and moan underneath him, the already damp fabric from your arousal, getting further soaked from Logan's saliva.

"Logan," you whine fervently. "Please."

His mouth leaves your pussy, just barely hovering above it now.

"I gotta make you want it, princess, it's no fun unless you're begging for me to taste you," he breathed against your pussy, his voice low and syrupy. He quickly resumes the hold his mouth had on your pussy, making your back arch off the couch with a moan.

"Okay, I'm officially begging, please, Logan, please," you whimper, not sure how much longer you're able to take his teasing.

"Atta girl," he rasps against your pussy. Like nothing, his fingers hook around the fabric of your panties and he rips it off of you with an experienced strength, leaving your pussy now exposed to Logan, and your torn lace panties on the floor.

"So wet for me, huh?" Logan teases through a cocky smile. You squirm more underneath him, causing his hands to move to your hips to hold them down. Logan stares hungrily at your cunt, removing one hand from your hip and bringing it to your pussy lips to rub it tantalizingly slow with his fingers. Flicking his eyes up to meet yours, he finally brings his tongue to your folds and licks up to your clit. You moan throatily and bring your hands to his hair to give it a tug of appreciation. He groans enthusiastically into your pussy, eating at it like your core is the forbidden fruit dripping in molten pleasure. He's animalistic in his movements and noises, lapping at your clit with groans and grunts in pleasure, almost growling even. He brings his fingers to your core, tracing the hole before shoving two digits inside of you. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them with each push inside. The noises are lewd and wet with each drive of his fingers. Your moans grow more desperate and needy as you climb towards your climax, the death grip you have on his hair growing stronger and stronger. The hand holding your hip down crawls up to your breast, grasping desperately at your flesh, hastily circling your nipples with his thumb. Your breaths quicken, your eyes flutter shut as he continues the steady onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and fingers.

"Logan, I'm so close, don't stop...please..." you trail off, beginning to lose yourself in your pleasure. Logan responds with needy moans against your clit and the continuous pumping of his fingers in and out of you. His grip on your breast loosens to grasp your side, slinking down to your waist, definitely leaving a mark with how rough he grabs at you. As his lips and tongue continue lapping you up, you can feel your arousal swirling in your stomach more and more. Your moans grow louder, your hips begin bucking. Logan groans into you, desperate to feel your release around his fingers. White hot pressure forms around your clit as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm, you look down at Logan and lock eyes with him just as you feel yourself dropping off.

The feeling of hot pink fire pricking your eyeballs jerks you awake, mid-orgasm, your eyes glow a pulsating fuchsia. You pant heavily, your orgasm ending unceremoniously against your fingertips. Leaving you disappointed. You huff in annoyance, wishing you could plunge yourself back into the wet dream that ended in a rather mediocre way. No, wait, that was your professor. You shouldn't be feeling, or thinking, this way at all. You feel disappointed in yourself for having such lewd thoughts about another person, especially a person of authority. You catch your breath, turn your head to face the clock on your nightstand and gasp when you see the time.

"Shit, shit, shit," you curse, hastily throwing yourself out of bed. "Please don't be late today."

(A/N): and that's that!! i hope people enjoy! this concept popped into my head earlier today so i've spent my sunday working on this, if people are interested to see where this goes, please leave a kudos or comment!!! TYYY🫶🏻🙈 i also posted this onto my ao3 here if you would like to view it there and keep up with it there as well!

#x men #wolverine smut #wolverine fanfiction #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett smut #hugh jackman #deadpool x wolverine #deadpool and wolverine

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 1 year

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IT’S YOU, HAPPY ALL THE TIME ─── jonathan breech ✧☾𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I ask Jessica what drowning feels like and she says not everything feels like something else." — ‘Jessica gives me a chill pill’, Angie Sijun Lou.

pairing. jonathan breech x reader

summary. you’ve bared your heart to your bestfriend, jonathan, more times than you can count, whilst knowing practically nothing at all about him. what is friendship if it is not equal… what is love if it is not returned? can your relationship survive such one-sidedness?

warnings. swearing, TW mention & description of suicide/attempts & depression, very introspective/kind of a character study???, alcohol & drug use, pining, ANGST!!!!, crying, fluff, smut with feelings, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (f), SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 10k (WTF??!?!!??)

a/n. the title is from “she won’t go away” by faye webster:) btw this is… rly angsty (and SO long omg im still in shock) so beware🫡 ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IN WHILE!! SCHOOL IS KICKING MY BUTT & THIS FIC WAS AN ABSOLUTE MONSTER TO WRITE LMAO

There are very few words in your vocabulary you can use to accurately describe Jonathan Breech.

The boy is an enigma, a matryoshka doll that never ends: he is witty and lighthearted and sarcastic, but you’ll always catch that edge, the air of malaise he carries around himself, the unspoken elephant in the room that screams WHO ARE YOU REALLY?

He had always been more of a figure, a landscape; something to witness, observe-- experience without letting it do the same to you. You don’t know if that’s something you want, either: there’s an imbalance in his hilarity, and he always takes things a step too far. Jonathan lights matches and lets them burn all the way down to his fingertips; he shaves and lets the blade leave stinging little nicks, rivulets of blood running down his neck; he chainsmokes cigarettes in his room and only opens the window when he feels his heart hammering in his chest, desperate for air.

You meet him — or, first experience him in a similar fashion: he had been in the university library, standing on top of a creaky, old bookshelf, shouting something you couldn’t understand over the music blasting through your headphones. You could certainly see him though, gesturing animatedly, dressed eccentrically in his signature winter trapper hat and a velvet blazer. That thin, effeminate figure of his was making winding, marionette-ish steps along the wood, an action that had everyone readying themselves to catch his inevitable fall.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere and catching you completely off guard, you caught his eye. He began stepping from one shaky shelf to the next, a complete miracle none of them toppled over, before stopping on one close enough for you to read his lips.

“Hi,” he mouthed, shifting uneasily on his left foot before regaining a steady balance, “you’re in my class, right?”

You nodded, hesitantly— yes, truthfully, you’d seen him in your Introduction to Literary Studies course a couple of weeks ago, sporting the same outfit as he did now, but you thought nothing of him. He’d been generally well-behaved then, asking slightly odd but in-tune questions that more or less answered all your inquiries, so you didn’t think the guy would have a penchant for, well… book-shelf hopping.

He grinned, about to say something else, before something — or someone, made him flinch. A professor, probably, considering the unintelligibly muffled, booming voice behind you. However, Jonathan made quick work of the situation, sneakily climbing down and escaping out the door.

The next time you see him, he’s sidled up beside you in your shared class. “Mind if I sit here?” a familiar voice had asked, to which you murmured a non-committal knock y’self out, before realizing with wide eyes. His presence had caught you off-guard, as he so often did, and you sensed a pattern blooming.

Jonathan certainly made for an odd desk-partner; his personality warped the environment around you, and it was suddenly so much easier to tear your eyes away from the lecture and land on Jonathan’s own. It’s something you never thought you’d ever do, because you adore the material being taught.

At the end of class, he asks you out for a drink: he’s just found the best Irish stout in the entire city, and what better way to make it known than to take anyone and everyone he knows there?

Rejection is written on your face clear as day— you have class tomorrow, an essay that needs to be finished, and honestly, pubs just aren’t really your scene.

But in the end… you still bite. You can’t help it: he’s disarming and warm and looks like he should smell like a bonfire. Somehow, that just does it for your brain; it’s here you learn of the charm that is Jonathan Breech.

That night goes everything and nothing like you expected: you expected not to be able to predict his actions, and that’s exactly what happens. When you meet Jonathan at the aforementioned pub, it’s not actually the one he’s meaning to take you to— it’s just the closest public place to the on-campus dorm, which is where he says he’s rooming.

“‘ve got a neighbor m’pretty sure is trying to sleep with me,” he says absently, ushering you onto the back of his bike, which had been leaning against a NO PARKING sign. “He’s always toget’er wit’ our dorm advisor, so I should l reject him before I get kicked out, if y’get what I mean.”

Now, you honestly should’ve expected this from a guy who jumped from six-foot book shelves, but Jonathan’s biking is all swift turns and jilted stops, mere milliseconds from repeatedly running red lights. You want to ask if he just learned how to ride the thing yesterday, but can’t, not with how utterly reckless and shameless he is about it, his terrible steering making you instinctively wrap your arms around his chest.

You clutch him tightly, making him hum in approval, and you feel your ears burn flusteredly. You would’ve pulled away, but then he cut from the right lane to the left in one swift move, barely missing several cars, and you practically shrieked instead. “Oh my god!”

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly. You can’t see his face, having shut your eyes in fear, but after hearing the blatant cheekiness in his tone, you can imagine clear as day how gleefully it contorts. You want to slap him somewhere, anywhere, but that’d defeat the point of being mad at his recklessness, so you squeeze him tighter instead, and he chokes on his breath. “Jesus-- m’sorry, really!”

When the two of you make it to the pub — alive and uninjured! — annoyingly all the way across town, your first few steps off his bike are stuttered, dizzy: “We are-- not going by bike next time,” you gasp, leaning against a random brick wall.

“Next time, eh?” He grins, and this time you really do slap him— just on the arm, bless your self-control and niceties not to beat this oddly comfortable-to-be-around near-stranger to death.

The pub, with its forgettable name and dingy stools, has a minimal, lackluster crowd. A kitschy neon sign flickers and dies as you walk in, making you raise a brow, but Jonathan merely drags you by the arm to a cozy corner table, then disappearing deeper within the venue before returning moments later with two pints of black beer in tow.

“Go on, then,” he gestures, setting the tall glass on the table, sitting down in the chair in front of you and taking a hearty sip of his own drink.

You let out a little hesitant sigh at his words, before relenting and taking in a long gulp of the liquid. “…Huh,” you remark, impressed. Jonathan smiled knowingly behind his glass, letting out a smug little ah, you see?

“Worth the long ride?” he inquired innocently, as if that was the only thing wrong with the night.

“Worth the ride, but not worth almost dying for,” you rolled your eyes goodheartedly, knocking back the rest of the bitter drink and making him whistle.

The rest of the night goes like this: Jonathan orders two more rounds of the quality Irish stout before the two’ve you are stumbling out of the pub, exploring all the nightlife there is to offer, like the crowd surrounding an out-door live comedy group performing down the street that has you and Jonathan giggling for hours after, or the underground speakeasy you accidentally find yourselves shoved into, a nasally guitarist singing on a smoky stage, several more drinks finding themselves in your system despite how nauseous you already feel.

“You-- d’you fancy him?” Jonathan slurs behind you, steadying himself by pressing his hands to your waist.

“F-fancy who?” you blink blearily, leaning into his warm touch.

“Who else m’I talkin’ about, girl? The singer!”

You shake your head no numbly, practically collapsing into his arms now, your head lulling on his chest. You’re so close you can smell the distinct scent of his skin, that unique musk everyone has, and it’s strangely familiar, like those smells that evoke old, nostalgic memories. It’s like how sunscreen summons the smell of the sun after a childhood beach day, or how vanilla extract takes you back to the smell of your mother’s baked goods on a specific winter evening.

“Reckoned you wouldn’t,” he assumes, hands coming away from your waist to wrap his arms around your shoulders, swaying to the music slightly in the crowded club, “looks like a -- right bleedin’ dope… wit’ that mop of hair.”

You giggle, alcohol riddled beyond belief, unable to formulate a response with the conflicting blurry thoughts in your head: it’s telling you Jonathan Breech isn’t the crowd you want, that you need to go home and work, that you let loose too easily— but it also tells you that you can see yourself becoming friends with him very, very quickly.

It’s there, in that club, Jonathan Breech moves into your life and fills a gaping hole you didn’t know existed, like a hole in your stockings you only notice when you get home. You have friends, certainly, more than you can count on both hands, but they never get as close as Jonathan does. After that night, an unknown force pulls the two of you together, making you run into him everywhere, and a tight friendship blooms like a lilypad in a raging storm; beauty within the chaos. In the multitude of close friendships you’ve harbored, he is the first to see so many sides of you. The last thing that did was your mother; it had only ever been your mother.

He is an endearing, amazing friend, both the intent listener and the charismatic speaker all at once; he knows his friends like the back of his hand, can recount their life like he can count the number of moles on his face-- but you, and everyone else, know absolutely nothing about him.

At least, close to nothing-- you know he likes ice cream and hanging out and going to the pub; you know he likes biking and doing drugs and women; you know he hates the sea and his brother and his father, but you don’t know him. All you’ve ever seen him do is smile or laugh or shout in mock anger; there is a carefully glued mask on his face he takes meticulous caution in preserving-- he is terrified to let go, despite the blasé persona he lets on.

Or maybe the mysterious matter of your bestfriend is tripping you up for no reason; maybe you’re psychoanalyzing something that doesn’t need to be psychoanalyzed, reading between lines that don’t exist. But if you were asked to answer honestly, there’s just something about Jonathan you don’t get. There is a split seam in the tapestry of his life, missing pieces in the story he pretends to tell with utmost accuracy. There are things that he never talks about, that he recoils when asked like you’ve poked a tender wound.

“So, what were you doing before… all this?” You ask him once, laying on his messy bed in his dorm-room and scanning the water-damage constellations dotted along his popcorn ceiling. By all this you mean going to university, being the resident party boy, aimlessly pursuing a degree you’re 99% sure he picked blindfolded (culinary science) and standing here, with you, snorting a line of something on his creaky wooden desk.

Jonathan freezes, still hunched over. “What d’you-- what d’you mean?” he says, tone breezy but, uncharacteristically tense… jilted and preoccupied. You could’ve brushed it off as him being seriously focussed on his drugs, but the way he shifts, how his shoulders curl in like he wants to disappear, tells you otherwise.

“I mean, before going to school here… y’know, what were you like as a dumb teenager?”

You two’re twenty, barely not-teenagers, but it still makes a world of a difference: you’re living away from home, doing what you want, experiencing (a juvenile, naive version of) freedom and adulthood.

“I dunno… kind of a tool, that's f’sure,” he chuckled, rubbing his nose roughly. He’s being funny on purpose, a jester’s distraction: he doesn’t want you to realize his answers’ not really one at all.

You shifted on his bed, now leaning against his headboard. His answer strikes you as odd and uncharacteristic despite his attempts to evade suspicion: usually, Jonathan pounces at the chance to yap on and on. “What, the great Jonathan Breech doesn’t have any wild stories to tell? No bones broken, girls dumped, houses trashed?”

He snorted at that, like some inside joke you weren’t privy to was brought up in your words, and he descended back down on a carefully partitioned line of white. “I broke my baby finger once,” he relented vaguely when he finished, dusting off the table and licking the remains off his hand. “I cried and I cried and I cried.”

“Did it hurt that much?” you grinned, mind trailing off to imagine a baby-faced Jonathan Breech, a juvenile highschool boy, doing something silly to break that finger. Maybe he accidentally flung off his bike, broke it because of a dare, or maybe it happened just by slipping and falling.

“It - uh… didn’t hurt enough,” Jonathan smiled, tight-lipped and paltry. All at once the air in the room had changed, like someone attached a vacuum to the window and sucked everything out.

Your grin fell, and you watched him carefully: perhaps, had you not been as close to him as you were, he’d have let something show. A twitch in the smile, a break in the facade. But you were, and his face stayed the same, and your thoughts ran circles around themselves. This was… something else, something belonging to the part of his life he didn’t talk about.

The atmosphere had grown tense, taut, a rubber band twisted ‘round and round, threatening to burst, so you leave the matter of his injury alone; of his life alone. You go back to staring at his ceiling, he goes back to his drugs; Jonathan collapses within himself, and you don’t notice how badly he suffocates… how suffering in silence is also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found.

ii.

Sometimes, despite his self-imposed distance, Jonathan lets someone look inside his head.

You are both the sometimes and the someone; you don’t know why it’s always you, but you chalk it up to the fact that beneath his unpredictable demeanor, the murky and unreadable feelings he holds for others, is this uncharacteristic constant: he holds a softness for you. It’s what lets you know there’s something haunted lurking beneath his happy-go-lucky surface.

You don’t know where this softness comes from, either. But you know you see it, in lingering touches, tender duchenne smiles unlike the devilish tilt his lips usually hold, how he clasps his hand around yours after a night at the pub and walks you home because he knows you get paranoid. You see it in how he comes over to your apartment when you don’t answer anyone's calls during exam season, how he remembers what your mother’s name is and what your childhood pet was and what your favorite flowers are. How his lips brush past your cheek when he pulls away from hugs, his hands shuddering around your shoulders, like he’s afraid he’ll crush you.

You only wish you could do the same. You want to sit by his side and mend his heart, lend an ear to his most mundane fears, you want to take his hand into your own and kiss it softly, return all that he has done for you, take the same as you have given to him: what is friendship if it is not equal, what is love if it is not returned? It is something broken, unable; split halves of one heart, an imbalance in the scale, Bonnie without her Clyde, a fish out of water.

Jonathan pours his heart into your own, filling holes you know you don’t have, and you think he may be overcompensating for something else, seeing things in you that really belong to him. It is maddening, and you just want to beg and plead he lets you in.

But you settle for the gentle pokes, the prodding, and try to decipher the vague answers he gives you. Most days, you can’t really make sense of it.

“Sorry,” you apologize, about to leave the outing you planned with Jonathan — studying, or, trying to study, at an intimate coffeebar the two of you frequented — “my dad’s gotten drunk with his lads and my mum needs help dragging him home.”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry. I get it: my dad used to do that all the time,” he waves your words off casually, but you don’t miss how jilted he says used to and the pain in his tone at all the time.

“Oh, surely she was fit to go to the madhouse?” you laughed once, responding to Jonathan’s complaints about an eccentric classmate in his agricultural studies. He laughs back, he always does, but this one is hollow, forced; barely stopping a grimace from coloring his tone.

You notice these things like it’s a shadow following someone in the sun. He is lying, hiding; about something you don’t know but it is happening. It is happening, and you are so very curious: you pick up on the littlest tendrils of him, fed wholly on any information you can squeeze out. He is a mystery you want to delve within completely; answer that question of WHO ARE YOU REALLY? and leave no room for error.

You’d give yourself to him the very same if he merely asked; you’d whisper childhood fears and tell the origin stories of faded scars on your knees and why you check under your bed before sleeping. You’d detail your entire life from sunset birth to starry night end if he even made a passing comment about knowing; you would trust your love, your heart, your entire life in his beautiful, shaky hands. This is the relationship you have built around yourselves, and it is beginning to feel terribly one-sided.

Alas, your curiosity overwhelms him, and you take it too far, just once. Only once.

“Where’d this come from?” you murmur, brushing your fingers over a scar above his eyebrow. It’s something you see only now, his hair mussed and wild from the various blankets and pillows on your dinky couch.

He’s crashing at your apartment tonight, an invited event, because you often miss him like you miss home; the boy is sneaky— he slinks away like a street cat and only comes back for food. It’s only fair he lets you wrangle him back like this, making him stay by your side at least once a week.

Your words make him freeze, like he often does; it reminds you of hikers, who freeze when they see mountain lions— he thinks if he stops and stares and pretends to disappear you’ll look the other way, drop the question, forget him completely.

But you don’t. You don’t know what’s affecting him -- not that he wants you to -- so you just stare back into his cornflower blue eyes. You stop and stare and see right through him; you hold the question like a knife to his neck, and commit him to memory.

“The scar?” Jonathan pales, shuddering despite it having long since been healed over. The aftershocks of an earthquake.

You simply nod, fingers pulling away. You’re still closer than ever though, the two of you being the only things in your cramped concrete apartment, the chosen movie on your telly still running and long forgotten.

Your attention remains on him, brandished into something dangerous, like you’ll carve the answer out of him if you have to— but the moment passes. He doesn’t say anything and you accept that as the answer. Gone is your razor-sharp focus, and there is nothing more to the matter.

But Jonathan doesn’t register this, no, he’s thinking, gears in his head turning and creaking. His tongue grazes against the backs of his teeth, jaw chattering like it was as cold as it was when… as cold as it was back then, and he doesn’t want to tell anyone— but it’s you. You’re not just anyone.

You’re the one he holds a certain softness for. The one he equally bares his heart to and holds the most secrets from. The one he’s most terrified to know. The only one he wants to know.

So, he decides to tell a partial truth— something digestible. People adore that which can easily slide down the gullet: news headlines don’t detail the goriness of a murder, they give the “insider” scoop of the scared neighbor. To be able to digest information is what makes the world go round, and he does not think you could digest the full truth-- he does not think he wants you to.

He feels ill at the thought of anything between you changing— oh, how ruined he’d feel if you began treating him like fucking glass.

This abhorrent social pressure is what makes Jonathan grit this sentence through his teeth: “I got into a car accident,” he gulps dry, “when I was nineteen. Was drunk… went fer a spin. I skidded off a -- um, an empty highway. The tall sorts; high up, y’know. Fell.”

His voice makes you look back up at him, and your eyes are beautiful and tense— it breaks his heart. He knows you’re probably thinking it was in-character, how expected that is of Jonathan Breech, how you’ll easily take this partial truth, how you’ll never know the full one until it comes in a letter under your door and he’s long gone.

“Tell me,” you ask him, lips falling into a near-frown instead of laughing or grinning wider. It’s hushed, whispered like a secret, “What did it feel like? Falling, I mean.”

Jonathan licks his lips, bores his shaking gaze into your own, and tells you not everything feels like something else. That the word connotes all you need to know. Falling meant he was falling; his arms raised and the air took him and that was it.

It makes your brows twist and your lips press into a thin line: his nonchalance is worrying, no more his signature characteristic— there is something wrong about this apathy toward injury, toward the potential death.

“Is that how you broke your finger?” You murmur, and it startles him. How you pieced the two things together, how you weaved a web from what little you knew about him; how futile his attempts to hide could be.

“What?” he responds, hoarse. There is a lurking shadow in his bones telling him he’ll taint you, telling him to be ashamed, telling him how badly you will never be his. It is such a damning reality, that no matter how much he may yearn for you, he is too incomplete to meet your needs; he is too hurt not to hurt you too.

“The car accident. Is that how you broke your pinkie?” you repeat, and you gripped his hand resting at your side, bringing it up to present the finger to him like he forgot where his pinkie was.

Jonathan’s gaze darts from you to the finger, and he feels his insides quiver; so badly does he want to spill his entire soul to you. But that internal reminder -- hurt people hurt people hurt people -- makes him settle for nodding, parted lips locking closed.

Nothing special happens that night, no shocking revelation or bombarded confession; Jonathan nods, keeps his lips sealed, and gets up from the couch, figure dreary and fatigued. He murmurs an incomplete excuse, something half-baked and blatantly unconvincing that he has to leave, and you let him go. You think you’re imagining the shudder in his shoulders, the shake in his voice as he says goodbye, and you let him go.

It’s there, like that club so long ago, you discover another thing about Jonathan Breech: push too far and he shuts down, closes shop and puts up his guard forever. It’s the mere fact of how attentive you are to his words; you remember how he broke his finger, and he realizes he cannot hide from you any longer.

You’re reaching a point in your friendship -- your relationship, no matter platonic or romantic for all lines have been crossed; nobody is so raw to one another with love not involved -- where you’ll bare your hearts on your sleeves, share your every thought and dream and fear. But Jonathan won’t be able to reciprocate, and the very thought of rejecting you, betraying you, makes his stomach twist in knots. That crestfallen face of yours would haunt him for all time, your every melancholy feature burning into his memory like the scars left by cigarettes on skin.

So he leaves, hurt people hurt people hurt people echoes in his ears all the way home; he turns into an alleyway shortcut and prays death swoops down and takes him right there. He leaves his consciousness curled lovingly in your arms; his shell walks home and prays you’re none the wiser. But you’ve already reached that point in your relationship; you already know.

When people die, or friendships do, sometimes they end with just a goodbye, a mild, casual goodbye because you think there’ll be dozens, hundreds more-- but there won’t be. Suddenly, alone in that cramped apartment, the buzzing from the tv filling your ears, your couch still warm from someone long gone, you know.

You know you startled him, that he’s left your apartment and he’ll never come back. Your heart cools, and she whispers that you took it too far, that you crossed a line you were never made aware of, that when you see him in class tomorrow he might not sit next to you, he might not talk to you, that you might lose him forever because he is too stubborn to open up and you are too stubborn to let him go.

Well, you were too stubborn to let him go.

It’s three weeks before you speak to Jonathan again. Three long, dragging weeks, moments in time where he avoided your gaze, evaded your presence, slipped past you before you got too close. You certainly try, of course— you seek him out every chance you get, trying to get an I’m sorry, please talk to me out before he runs off, but it’s virtually impossible.

Once, after class, you’d caught him in the middle of a flurry of exiting students by the velvet blazer, your hands curled around the lapel. “Jonathan,” you panted, trying to drag him off to the side to escape the bustling activity around you, “please, we need to talk--“

But then Jonathan had faced you, eyes widened and spooked like he’d seen a ghost, a never-before-seen-by-you fear covering his gracefully cut features, before he tugged off the black blazer and escaped into the crowd. He had seen you, widened his eyes, left. Such a simple action tore your heart in two; it had confirmed your suspicions— you’d gone too far, he was never coming back, and you were all alone. There you stood, fingers wrapped around one of his favorite articles of clothing starkly without its beloved owner, completely alone.

In three measly weeks, he has put up a biting winter of distance between you two.

Your feelings are unable to comprehend themselves— they fight and sob and run circles around your mind, they make you doubt, crumble, devour yourself from the inside out; they make you ask yourself what you can do to salvage this, what can you do to fix this? What is there to make of him, of his behavior; what do you do with yourself and this guilt?

If you could imagine time was a construct, you were certain you could convince yourself this stretch of time was nothing… propel yourself into a present where Jonathan does not afflict your mind, take over your every thought— does not ruin you like so. If only you could do that, you could close your eyes and reopen them when you’ve let go. But you were always too stubborn to let him go, weren’t you?

It’s three weeks to the day before you speak to Jonathan again, and it happens through the crack of his dorm door, your arm wedged through it because you know he is not cruel; he will let you in without a doubt.

“Please,” you plead to Jonathan, “just— I just want to talk. Please?”

He stares at you straight, expression cold and reserved, before he breaks and pulls away; bites his lip, lets you in his room, doesn’t look you in the eye. Looking around, you sense something in his dorm has changed; it had gained a bereft quality, like it was attuned to Jonathan’s state of mind and felt depressed beyond your comprehension. There was a cold air to the place, an utmost frigid demeanor to a room incredibly warm just weeks prior. In your absence, the dorm had been neglected, gutted, abandoned.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that tumble out of your mouth. “I- I know you don’t like… talking about -- about your life before here, and I’m sorry. But please, Jonathan, just talk to me. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”

He sits down on the edge of his weak bedframe, pulling his knees up and pressing his face into them. “You don’t need to-- don’t… don’t apologize. You don’t need t’make it better, either. All’s grand.” he promises, words muffled and shaky. It’s a weeping kind of tone; you could just as easily imagine him sobbing with that voice.

Your brows knit. Your emotions are wavering, treading brutally between disbelief, despair and rancor. “Then -- then why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you avoid me? Why did you - why did we spend these last three weeks playing cat and mouse, if you weren’t mad at me? Is this your sick idea of a joke?”

“No! I-- jesus christ,” Jonathan looked up from his hands before immediately pressing two fingers between his eyes, “I wasn’t … avoiding you.”

“I haven’t seen you in weeks!” you point out painfully, exasperated. “You know, you’ve been avoiding me for longer than this. You— you push me away any chance you get. You’re afraid. I don’t know of what, but you’re- so fucking secretive, and it’s tearing me apart.”

“I’m not - afraid of anything. I’m just a private person— you know this. Would you, if I ‘pushed you away?!’”

At his denying deflection, something within you snaps: “Why won’t you - fucking let me in? I’ve — I’ve bared my soul to you; you know me from the inside out. I trust you with my life— why, why can’t you do the same?”

“I didn’t ask you to do that! And I didn’t — I didn’t mean t’get so close to you, okay?!” He bursts, and you flinch. His hands shakily come up to his face once more; he wipes roughly but it’s no use— you’ve already seen his delicate tears threatening to spill, and it burns more holes in your heart than you thought his suffering would.

“What are you talking about?” you pry, now without any cautious reservations about his demeanor.

“I didn’t mean to get so fucking attached, because - ‘cause I…” Jonathan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, “fuck.”

“What?” you repeat, but it’s softer, concerned; how quickly his body language shifted from irritated to terrified has you scrambling to support him. “Talk to me,” you ask, taking nervous steps closer, like you were approaching a wounded animal.

He sucks in a sharp breath, and holds it, like he did cigarette smoke, before exhaling heavily. “Okay- okay. When I was - nineteen, I drove a car… I drove off a cliff and tried t’kill myself. I was-- admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a year, and when I got out I moved here f’school. I- I… promised m’self I wouldn’t let anyone get too close.”

The confession hangs in the air, a lonely little thing; it’s a bleeding piece of his own heart he’s plucked and placed in your palms. He shudders, and you want to nurture it like nothing else. This is a culmination of a year’s worth of evasion coming to a close; you’re seeing him completely, rawly, for the first time.

“But- but why? You don’t have to— Jonathan, you don’t need to do that just because you - you… y’know.”

“I’m- I know that,” he starts brashly, defensively. “It’s b’cause I am very, very aware of my - of m’own self destructiveness…” His words taper off into something of grief; the Sisyphean struggle of wanting to live, while that depressive boulder pushes him back, colors him completely. “I just… I didn’t want to - t’hurt anyone in case I -- in case next time I succeeded.”

“Next time?” you repeat, and your voice broke in a way you wish was less vulnerable, less blatantly miserable.

“This is why I didn’t want to—“ Jonathan sighs, deflates, “I’m not telling you this because I want you to - t’fucking save me, okay? I’m telling you this because you wanted to know, and I couldn’t hide from you anymore. Because you asked.”

“You didn’t need t’hide it in the first place!” you exclaimed, coming closer to him. “You’ve never had to hide a fucking ‘ting from me.”

“You wouldn’t have understood!” He said back, volume nearing a shout. “You’ll treat me differently now, you see, you’ll look at me fuckin’ different—“

It made your heart sink-- how sure his words were, how certain he was of your rejection. How little trust did he have in you?

(You remember he wanted to sink, too-- lose himself in the baby blue sea; let it swallow him whole and never be seen again.)

“You - you really think I’ll treat y’differently because of this? You know my every crevice, my every thought-- I have never once doubted that you’ll accept me.”

“I-I… why should I - expect any of this to stay the same?”

Suddenly, you took his face into your hands. “Because I-- I fucking love you, okay? And it’s not just friendly, or romantic, even if it’s both— I’m… I love you like nothing I’ve ever loved before. I accept and adore your every skill and flaw and antic; you wormed your way into my heart and I want to worm my way into yours.”

“That doesn’t mean—“ Jonathan tried to interject, a noise all utter disbelief. You cut him off, though, continuing your sudden confession; you hadn’t been privy to these own romantic feelings of yours till moments prior, but everything being said just felt right.

“Jonathan, I don’t care if you drove a car off a cliff or cyanide-poisoned our professor or blew something up, because I love you. You, with all your problems and great, big, beautiful life. All I want is for you to want that life; I want you to want me in it. I feel it in my bones that I’m meant to love you; you are meant to be my home, you are everything I am supposed to know. It won’t fix you or fix anything at all but I just need you to know-- I need you to know the why to my every action. It’s because I love you.”

He looked up at you, wide-eyed, head resting in your gentle hold. “I - don’t know what to say… are you - for real?”

“As real as can be,” you smiled back at him, tracing circles along his smooth skin; you could’ve drank in that attentive stare of his for hours upon hours. “I love you, and nothing and no-one, not even you, can change that.” An aching grip had clenched around your heart at his words, that blatant disbelief: are you for real? God, had you ever been-- had you ever fucking been.

Jonathan’s mouth opened to speak, but instead, he let out an agonizing sort of cry; an exclamation of utter surprise at the loving acceptance. Then, he hesitantly leaned into your touch, as if he’d never hugged before, wrapping his arms around your waist to snatch you as close to him as possible. He held you tighter and tighter as the seconds went by, like this was all a mocking dream his yearning mind had made up; that if he closed his eyes now he’d wake up desolate, alone, without you for eternity. His worst nightmare.

“…God, I’m so - fucking stupid,” he grumbled, sounding angry, but you could feel vulnerable, hot tears soaking into the fabric of your shirt. “To assume you, of all people, would act that way… you of all people.” He said that tenderly; you of all people certainly meant miles more things you weren’t explicitly aware of, but you still felt the sentiment. “I’m not -- poetic or anything like that… but I love you, too.”

You chuckled a beautiful, wet laugh. “You don’t hafta’ say anything sweet or special. You’re everything to me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and pulling you onto the mattress with him. He flipped you beneath him, and held himself up by the forearms laying on either side of your head. “Fuck, I love you. I love you.” Jonathan repeated the words several more times, strange and foreign but right at home being said to you. Like his mouth was made to only ever say I love you to you.

Suddenly, you pressed your lips to his, shutting him up momentarily. You could still feel the vibrations of I love you rumbling in his throat as you kissed him. Your tongues danced along one another, an all consuming waltz; you wanted to know everything about him, down to the taste of his tongue, memorize how sweet his mouth felt on yours. Oh, how you longed for this moment; how could you ever think about love again, and yearn for it, without thinking of Jonathan?

You reckoned that’s what this had been the whole time; your love started as a little flame, something under the guise of friendship, but the two of you had fanned it, nurtured it-- all of a sudden the miniature warmth of platonic love burst into a raging, adoring fire. You’d fed this flame with tenderness, and it responded in kind; you could never again look at Jonathan without a certain intimate reverie. Perhaps that’d been why Jonathan found it so hard to cut off this relationship as he had dozens others: something primal and unconscious within him had begged him not to let you go— some higher being knew his home was only ever in your arms.

Jonathan deepened the kiss hungrily, pressing his weight onto you and pushing you into the mattress. Your head was spinning from the lack of air, and one of your hands had to sneak beneath his hat and tug at his hair to get him to stop. “Hey,” you panted, looking worriedly into his eyes, “what’s up?”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, hanging his head lowly for a moment before meeting your gaze once more, batting his long lashes. “Jus’ missed you. Thas’ all.”

“Missed y’too,” you murmured, pulling him back down to kiss you again. Your hands left the crown of his head and trailed down his backside, tracing over the curves and bumps of his frumpy yellow v-neck sweater.

That touch of yours seemed to spur him on even more, and his kisses began to travel; along your jaw, to your pulse, down the long ravine of your neck, tongue darting out to lick the hollow of your collarbone, making you squeal. He chuckled against your skin, a genuine amusement rather than the mocking one you two so frequently practiced, and it all went downhill from there. His hands skillfully tugged off your tank top, knee between your clenched thighs, more teasing kisses being planted along your now bare -- save for your bra -- chest.

You didn’t mean to come over, profess your love and suddenly jump into a steamy, yearning makeout session (which, you were pretty sure was venturing off into sex…) but you supposed that apologizing— arguing, whatever —meant your relationship went back on track to wherever it was heading… which may have been set to end with an ardor romance anyway. This love of yours would’ve bursted at the seams of friendship; it could not be confined by such mere things as labels.

“Fuck,” you groaned, arching into his teasing kisses along the peaks of your breasts, his hands ghosting around your clothed chest but never touching. “Please, Jon.”

You could feel his cheeky grin on your skin, “Tell me what you want, love.”

“…Take this off,” you demanded gently, referring to Jonathan’s sweater.

“Your wish is my command.” he snickered, obliging and removing the yellow knit-- as well as his white undershirt and pajama bottoms. He was left in a pair of boxer-shorts and that silly, silly winter-trapper hat, his fingers sneaking up to your supple thighs and tickling the edges of your jean-shorts; a silent plea.

“Eager,” you mumbled, noticing his over-compliance in completely stripping, smiling and guiding his hands to the waistband of your shorts to tug the tight article off.

When he did so, you shivered, both at the feeling of being only in your underwear, as well as Jonathan’s sharp, attentive gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he panted, eyes exploring your every sweet feature.

He was enamored with your bare body, not in a sexual way despite the blatantly sexual situation, but rather in a worshiping, religiously devoted way. It may’ve been blasphemous to think so, but Jonathan’s sudden chaste kisses along the curve of waist only seemed to prove you right; his mouth on you was gentle, like he’d held you before, except now without any guilt or hesitation. It was a holy way of loving you; something all-consuming, becoming the epicenter of a life, becoming the purpose, motivation, and belief all at once.

That familiar broiling in your gut occurred as he made his way closer to the pulsing, lace-covered place between your legs; your hands were gripping the sheets tightly in pure anticipation, his hot breath on your sensitive skin. “Don’t be such a tease,” you pouted, legs fumbling for purchase along his body, trying to pull him closer to you.

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” he hummed, but his fingers still curled into the band of your baby-blue panties and dragged them down in one desperate go, “but I do wanna taste you….”

Jonathan’s veiny hands pried your quivering thighs apart, murmuring an offhand already stole y’panties, don’t get all shy on me now when you whimpered flusteredly, before he descended on your dripping lips, licking a flat-tongued stripe up to your clit.

You gasped at the sudden action, but it quickly morphed into a choked moan when he pressed himself further and parted your lips, nose to your pelvic bone; he made quick work of you, artfully curling his long tongue into your hole and slurping your slick.

“So sweet,” he praised, the vibrations of his voice making your thighs clench around his head. He hummed in amusement at your reaction, lapping you up quicker; he kitten-licked and slobbered, feeding on your sticky cunt, tongue darting in every direction, feeling your walls and prying deeper into your hot hole, which ached for the cock straining against the mattress now. The bottom half of Jonathan’s face was now positively soaked, glistening with his own drool and your needy wetness, all of it mixing dirtily and sliding down the length of his neck.

“Jon!” you mewled, hands tearing off his trapper hat and flinging it elsewhere before curling your hands into his mousy brown hair and pushing his face deeper into your pussy, desperate to come. You were riding his face now — or, attempting to, more accurately bucking up into him — adoring his unceasing ministrations. He was basically fucking you with his tongue, overstimulating your clit with teasing licks then pulling away, feeling along the ridges of your walls.

“Pick m’hat up later, love,” he tutted, pulling away slightly to see where you’d haphazardly thrown it, and your desperate whine neared a sob. He breathed in sharply, taking in how quickly he’d undone you: in a matter of minutes, your expression had grown wanton, eyes blown out, drooling, hair askew, bra riding up your tits and revealing your sweet, puffy nipples.

Jonathan quickly forgot about the state of his beloved hat, and went back down on you, mouth devouring in full force once again. You rolled your hips forward, and when he pulled his tongue out of your wet hole to suckle softly on your fleshy nub, your eyes rolled back into your head and your legs shook around his face, toes curling tightly. A choked moan left you alongside the sudden climax, sounding a hundred percent pornographic and all for him.

You panted, silent and unmoving for a moment, and Jonathan began moving to get up and let you take a breather before continuing, absolutely terrified to push you too far or do anything you didn’t want to do— he was the spontaneous one, and you were the responsible one, but that didn’t mean he ever wanted to force anything upon you. His simultaneous decisions were made mostly in part with your interests in mind; he made the decisions you were too nervous and over-thinking to choose quicker.

However, you took a long breath, then trailed your hand over the painfully noticeable bulge within his soft boxers. “Wan’… make you feel good,” you murmured, flattening your hand against his erection.

Jonathan inhaled sharply, pitifully affected by the minor touch but holding back with an incredible amount of self restraint. “I can wait,” he offered sweetly, one of his hands coming up to your flattened hand’s forearm to rub the skin.

You shook your head foggily, cupping him through the fabric, slowly adding friction by sliding your hand up and down.

“S-shit,” he bit his lip, “you want this now, baby?”

You nodded vehemently with a whimper, and to make more of a point, you reached behind and unclasped your bra, tossing it elsewhere on his dirty dorm floor, before beginning to slip off his underwear.

The hand on your arm stopped you, though, in favor of doing it himself and pressing his weight further onto you, your chests flush with one another. You were only able to take in thin breaths, making your head spin, but it also amplified the arousal blooming in your cunt when Jonathan slotted himself at your soaking entrance, collecting his saliva and your slick on his tip.

Before he pushed in, however, his head dipped into the hollow of your neck, plush lips brushing past the shell of your ear. “Is this okay?” he murmured, pressing a wet kiss to your temple.

“Please,” you whined, hands pushing flat on his back to bring him closer to you.

With that, Jonathan slowly buried his length within your cunt, making your breath hitch. “I love you,” he groaned, entering you inch by inch, relishing how your warmth swallowed him whole. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Your hole was stuffed beyond belief, but Jonathan was gentle with you, caressing your waist with the rough pads of his fingers and massaging you, trying to ease his entrance into something painless. Obviously, with that length and thickness it couldn’t be painless at all, but his attempts helped your mind drift off elsewhere and take some of the attention off the stinging stretch.

After a long moment of ragged breathing, Jonathan cooing words of praise into your neck as he kissed you without moving, you dug your fingers into the skin of his back: “More,” you choked out, the fullness in your cunt now feeling delicious rather than cringeworthy.

He smirked against your skin, “Looks like you’re t’eager one now.”

“Oh, get on with it,” you rasped and he let out a low chuckle, sliding out of your hole before thrusting back in. That first movement already made your hips jerk up into him, back arching. It was like all the warmth in your body had collected in your cunt, leaving you freezing from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, but still with a needy, burning fire in your insides.

Jonathan’s pace was affectionate and rhythmic: you could feel the tenderness in his each and every gentle roll of the hips. It made you feel like the sun, how attentive he was, but he was also so fucking slow. If anything, that had your walls clenching onto him harder than if he hammered into you— that slow build-up of friction was dizzying. You squirmed, cunt clenching and contracting around his smooth thrusts— you wanted to take him within you completely, cause more friction for you were going stir-crazy with this lazy speed.

“F-fuck! Faster, please,” you cried out, unable to take his sensual movements any longer. Your legs were twitching with his patient movements, and you could’ve sworn you saw a cheeky grin on his lips. The bastard— even in sex was he teasing you, wanting to torture you until you gave in to the pleasure and begged him to ruin you.

Sure, this was your first time together, and was going extremely pleasantly and sweetly, but you were actually pretty fond of the idea of letting him pound into you like there was no tomorrow…

At the lewd thought, your walls pulsed around his cock, making him buck up unintentionally, hitting that sweet spot within you. He grunted at the feeling of your tightened cunt, while you cried out his name, pleasure running like a current through your body. Your face was on fire, reminiscent of a raging fever, and your insides were coiling— god, how did his cock just feel so perfect within you?

“Oh,” he grinned in a pant, “found y’spot, didn’t I?”

Jonathan didn’t give you a chance to speak before he pulled out so far his tip was the only thing in your hole, before slamming back in and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Props to him-- he hit your g-spot with utmost accuracy, and you let out a long, stuttered mewl, scratching at his freckled back, legs twitching. Your wail was almost catatonic, loud and cock-drunk, dripping unabashed, filthy pleasure.

“Makin’ such sweet noises f’me,” he praised huskily, hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, “fuck, ‘ve gotta hear that again.”

He must’ve noticed your neediness earlier, when he was slow and languid, for the new speed he set was double- no, triple that: his hips were snapping against yours, balls smacking filthily against your lips, left hand pinning your hips down and letting him sink into you faster. Shocks of pleasure tore through you at the sudden increase in speed- he’d inured you so well to the torturously slow pace from earlier that this new frenzied one felt like getting hit by a bullet train. You were overstimulated and needing more of him all at once, practically vibrating with need under his touch.

“I’ve- hnngh- wanted this…” you gasped between moans, “f-for so long…”

“Wanted m’cock?” Jonathan questioned in a hiss, feeling with his every inch how your walls absolutely soaked him. His tone was, obviously, sarcastic, but it still made you feel incredibly lewd.

You shook your head numbly, “Wanted you… I love you, Jon!”

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he purred, fucking you faster and making you writhe beneath him, “love you s’much.”

Jonathan targeted the spongy, swollen spot deep within your cunt, suddenly filled with a renewed vigor and motivation to make you come as quickly as possible, and he pounded into that one, specific spot, watching how you twitched and squirmed, heavy moans exiting you. He was relentless, hands reaching to hook under your knees and spread you wider.

At the new angle, his cock penetrated you even deeper, fuller, which you thought wasn’t possible with how goddamn full you already felt, but when his thick cockhead brushed up against your cervix you thought you were going to burst. Then, one of his hands came up to your tits to knead the flesh, and you squeaked when he tweaked your soft nipples. He was pawing at your sweet tits, fondling you in a needy, boyish way, like yours were the first pair of boobs he’d ever felt.

“M’close!” you gasped, mind going fuzzy with pure ecstacy. Your skin prickled with goosebumps, cold sweat running down your spine, a terribly stark in contrast feeling to the warmth buzzing under your skin.

“C-can’t last much longer either,” he choked, still pumping in and out of your sticky hole and savoring the feeling of your tight warmness on his long length. He looked absolutely exquisite above you, and you lost yourself in the ethereal picture. Maybe you were in love, or maybe he really was just an empyrean beauty; you took in the sight of his focussed iceberg blue eyes, the cute flush spreading along his pale cheeks and bare chest, how he bit his pink lips to muffle his needy grunts and moans.

Then, you mewled and convulsed around him, your walls spasming and contracting as you came undone, reaching the precipice of your pleasure. That made him fall off the edge— you had tensed all over- all over, and Jonathan couldn’t help how his hips stuttered, knees buckled, cock twitched; he only gave one last, powerful thrust into you before spilling himself inside of you. He painted your soft walls white, and you felt that familiar heat spreading within you; you welcomed it completely, and wanted such warmth to be there forever.

You milked him for every last drop, cunt like a vice grip, and Jonathan gave you another wet kiss, this time on your lips, and your hands wrapped around his neck, allowing you to kiss him back. Your brows knitted at the sour taste of yourself on his lips, but it just made everything feel so real— Jonathan and you had “made love”. It was a phrase you always wrinkled your nose at, feeling uncomfortable and juvenile at the intimacy it entailed, but now you understood it completely.

“I love you,” you repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, unable to say anything else that conveyed what you felt for him.

Honestly, you weren’t sure anything could accurately do so— you felt infinitely about him, your love touching all edges of your mind, heart and soul, filling you completely. You supposed you felt about Jonathan how the sun felt about the moon— without one, there could not be the other.

“I love you-- too,” he responded, pausing in the middle at the aftershocks of your orgasm, which had caused you to tighten around his softening, sensitive cock for a second.

You peered deep into his baby-blue eyes, watching the utter love that coloured them; it was like submerging yourself in a great blue ocean, except you didn’t want to come out, because you knew you wouldn’t drown in those eyes. No, you knew Jonathan would always be there to pull you out.

Speaking of pulling out… Jonathan slipped himself out of you softly, careful not to agitate that first stretch any more than necessary, before collapsing back into your arms. The two of you tangled yourselves in a messy flurry of limbs on his cushy mattress, sweaty and breathy, something that should’ve been terribly uncomfortable but just wasn’t— you swore you could fall asleep anywhere, no matter your own state or the circumstance, as long as you were with him.

Blearily, both your eyes began to droop, until you gave into the familiar presence of deep, dark sleep. It was a dreamless sleep for you, but you had an ever present comfort at his weight on yours, something you could feel even in unconsciousness.

Hours later, in a brisk, shuddering early-morning that you felt all over due to Jonathan’s unruly habit of opening his window at the peak of the day’s hottest weather and forgetting to close it before cold nightfall fell, you awoke to Jonathan watching you carefully, so close you could feel his warm exhales of breath on your cheek.

There was no goodmorning or anything like that, just pure, uninhibited being, reveling in the space you two occupied together. Like you two were the only things left in the world.

When Jonathan noticed you woke up, he shifted, presumably to extract himself from your grip. You stopped him, though, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and bringing him closer to you.

“What did it feel like?” you asked instead, for the last time. You brushed your fingers over his scar, and, knowing exactly what you were asking, this time Jonathan doesn’t flinch away. This time, he leans into your touch: it doesn’t burn, not anymore, and he wants your tenderness to swallow him whole.

You didn’t mean what it actually felt like, of course. You meant, what were you thinking? What have you done, and what will you do to yourself? You meant, I love you.

“It felt like,” falling; not everything feels like something else; I raised my arms and the air took me and that was it-- “it felt like… giving in. Letting my desperation find its purpose. It felt like I’d reached a point of peace… gained clarity after a long stretching, wounded moment came to an end. It felt like becoming something only meant to be talked about in past tense.”

You don’t say anything to that; you know he doesn’t want you to. There’s no need for you to hush or plead or make better, you just need to listen, and love him. He knows you accept him for everything he is, all his flaws and his strengths; he knows your love is all accepting- it veers on saintly.

At your silence, he melts into your arms and you can finally relax; there is an admission in the action, a release, an acknowledgement -- is suffering in silence not also accompanied by the overwhelming desire to be found? -- you have found him, at last, and you will never, ever let go.

You take it too far, just once. Only once. And you let him go just once, only once; never again.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #jonathan breech #on the edge #jonathan breech x reader #jonathan breech x reader smut #jonathan breech smut #cillian murphy x reader smut

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honeytonedhottie · 9 months

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routine building for after school : optimize and make ur time work for you⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

this is how to build a solid after school routine, requested by an anonie (yk who u are) a routine that'll not only help u to be as productive as u can but to also do so in a way that doesn't drain u bcuz school is exhausting.

do ur homework as soon as u get home : dont put it off and do it during the nighttime, or the day thats its due. do ur homework as soon as u get it (aim to finish homework during school) but if u can't do that then as soon as u get home do ur homework.

if u find it difficult to stay focused and do ur homework as soon as u get home bcuz ur so tired and exhausted from school, i would recommend going to a cafe, or the library, a place where u CANNOT fall asleep so that then u have no choice but to get ur schoolwork done.

a little boost of energy : for me, i do pilates in the morning before school because it releases endorphins and gives me energy to start my day. if u need some extra energy, go for a walk, go to the gym, or take a short power nap. dont consume caffeine in the afternoon -> evening period bcuz it usually makes u unable to get quality sleep

make an agenda : i have an agenda for every single day of the week with important things i need to get done in order to manage my time well. spread our ur tasks throughout the day. some helpful agenda tools that i like to use are : notion and the notes app

put a big chunk of time towards urself : do all of ur tasks so that then once they're finished u have a huge chunk of time for urself. to practice a hobby that u have, practice self care, or just simply relax bcuz making time to do those things is just as important as ur studies

depending on how much time u have to work with you'll have to adjust accordingly but the basic formula to make an effective after school routine is : homework or studying (complete at school if u can) + replenish energy + time for urself, ur hobbies, and things outside of school.

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averagelivingbeings · 1 month

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The black magic tube, Part 2

Part 1

Top Blade/Bottom afab Dan Heng

Dan Heng has had enough of the ghost fucker’s antics now and rushes home in the hopes of not being demolished in public again.

Word Count: 3361

Tags: PWP, Afab Dan Heng, magic fleshlight, vaginal sex, cunnilingulus, big dick Ren, a little bit of pussy spanking, overstimulation, light dom/sub, rope bondage, two horny mfs, getting caught masturbating

AFAB language used for Dan Heng

——————————————

After the first time, Ren had decided to chuck the damn fleshlight into a box and hide it far away from his and boyfriend’s eyes. It was far too realistic and addicting to his liking and he refused to allow that thing to distract him from his boyfriend’s heavenly pussy. Nevermind the fact that this toy somehow knew how to imitate its behavior. Ren had practically memorised the way Dan Heng’s hole clung to him or reacted to different kinds of stimulation and he had even made sure to pay extra attention to it the next time they had fucked, yet still, the fleshlight did the same. He had sworn that if he ever were to pull it out for a fuck again, it wouldn’t be more than once a week and only if Dan Heng was gone and Ren missed him too much to resist.

Meanwhile Dan Heng thought he was growing insane with how frequently this phantom body (he had decided to consider it a body, given the fact it was always at least a pair of hands and a dick and they had to belong to something, right?) sought him out while he was out to fuck him dumb. It never happened at home, even during the week he called in sick and stayed at their apartment to work on his studies and cuddle his boyfriend. No, it always had to be when he was out, be it at work, university or whatever. He was starting to get used to the hygienic conditions in public restrooms, even the school bathrooms. What made the whole thing worse was that the ghost knew exactly how to rile him up and pound him, just like Ren always does. Dan Heng loved the sensation, surely, but he also loved Ren and only his boyfriend was allowed to touch him like that.

The next time he was waiting for the milk to heat up at the cafe and the thick, calloused fingers made their return, Dan Heng had enough. He quickly told Jing Yuan that he wasn’t feeling well again and would go home, which the man encouraged with a relieved smile, happy that Dan Heng, according to him, “finally took his health seriously”. Dan Heng himself didn’t have enough patience to witness his joy, as he hurried to yank his apron off and grabbed his belongings before rushing out of the cafe, while at the same time messily calling a cab. Usually it was just a fifteen minute walk to their apartment, but given the fact that the ghost took on average exactly as much time to fuck him dumb, that option wasn’t exactly ideal.

Such, he spent an awkward cap ride with his legs clenched together and the inside of his cheeks between his teeth to stop himself from moaning like a bitch, when he felt the all too familiar monster of a dick slide over his hole. In all fairness, it wasn’t much bigger or smaller than Ren’s cock, but that didn’t mean it was easy or not overwhelming to take.

By the time they had reached his apartment building as fast as possible, Dan Heng paid the dutiful driver and thanked him, before running away like he was chased by the hounds. The hounds being the dick that had started teasing his clit and spreading wetness around his pussy. Panting and with his face red as it could get, he rushed up the stairs fumbling with the keys on the way up. His strange antics earned him annoyed stares from his elderly neighbours, but Dan Heng had less fucks to give than he was currently being given by that damn phantom cock.

The second he threw the door open and slammed it shut behind himself though, the dick stilled as if Dan Heng had grabbed a ghost penis exorcism tool. He stood still for a while, feeling it simply rest against his pussy in a similarly tense manner in which he was leaning against the door.

… Fuck. Why was Dan Heng home? Ren thought, the icy reality of what kind of debauchery he was indulging in in his boyfriend’s absence crashing down on him. He held the fleshlight still, his lubed up cock touching the twitching pussy of the toy, as he listened to the sounds outside.

Nothing

“R-Ren?” Dan Heng called out. His voice was shaking and he was still panting from having rushed inside so hastily. The phantom dick at his pussy was still just resting there and he anxiously paid attention to the way it shifted minimally.

“Uhm, yes?” Ren answered hesitantly. Deciding his jerk-off session was ruined, he lifted the toy off of his dick quickly put the lid back on, before setting it down. “Are you okay? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Huh. Dan Heng blinked, when the cock vanished just like that. He tried to feel around if there was any trace left, but there was nothing, just his sopping wet cunt all alone now. Which he found unfair, riling him up and then leaving the second he wasn’t in a public space anymore. Did the ghost have a public humiliation kink? “Well, yeah… I didn’t feel good. Are you in the bedroom?”

Absolutely great. Cursing under his breath, Ren tried to force himself to relax, he didn’t feel like getting caught shirtless with his dick rock-hard and a fleshlight next to him. It did not work at all, the shame, the excitement, the anticipation he had built up himself making sure his erection stood proud and tall in all its glory, far too large and thick to be stuffed into his underwear comfortably. “Yeah…”

“Good…” Dan Heng rubbed his temple, as he pushed the door to their shared bedroom open. “Cause I really need you to pound-“ The last words he had on his mind slipped away silently, when he met Ren’s equally red face, his tits, his abs and his huge cock out, as he sat on the bed with something akin to embarrassment on his face. “… Me… Was I interrupting something?” He raised an eyebrow at the scene.

“Well, no… Nothing important anyway.” Ren coughed awkwardly, stuffing his boner into his pants anyway, just for the sake of modesty, even though Dan Heng looked as flustered and horny as he felt. Noticing how weird the scene may look, he quickly added: “I swear I wasn’t cheating! You can check everything, the closet, under the bed, the...”

Dan Heng couldn’t possibly justify ripping Ren’s head off over cheating, if he was here regularly enjoying ghost cock in public. “Ugh, don’t worry, I believe…” He trailed off, when his gaze landed on the black tube on the bed. “Wait, where did you find this?” Snatching it up, he examined it, touching the lube-stained sides and turning it over. He caught a glimpse of the eerie sex shop’s logo and faintly remembered its equally creepy owner who sold the toy to him.

“On the shelf next to the TV. Did you buy that?” Ren came over wrapping his arms around Dan Heng and peering over his shoulder.

“I mean- Yeah, sorta.“ Dan Heng blinked, as he opened the tube and was greeted by the dripping wet pussy. He couldn’t quite remember it being so realistic and couldn’t resist touching it. At the same time, the ghost finger decided to return, poking his clit in a similar manner as Dan Heng himself poked the fake cunt’s clit. “Ah-!”

“Hengheng?” Upon feeling his boyfriend tense up and jolt, Ren perked up in alarm. The shame of Dan Heng discovering his masturbation escapades made him want to run away from the topic through any means possible.

“This…” Dan Heng narrowed his eyes at the tube and the pussy winking back at him suspiciously. Again he touched it, this time the labia, dragging his finger over it and lightly pressing against the bottom part of the hole. The phantom finger, which now coincidentally also felt smaller and less rough than before, did the same motion. “Ren…” Dan Heng slowly turned around to his boyfriend, turquoise eyes boring into wide crimson ones. “Did you fuck that thing?”

~/~

Ren was relieved. He had no need to feel guilty about cheating on Dan Heng or replacing him with a fleshlight, because it turns out the fleshlight was Dan Heng’s pussy and connected to him! Now that he and his partner had figured it out, he wasn’t surprised that it felt so good to be inside of it.

Dan Heng wasn’t exactly happy. At least the mystery of the ghost fucker was solved and he was at the very least glad it was just Ren playing with a sex toy. Ren also ending up fucking him via bluetooth in public and forcing him to jerk off in bathrooms was not cool. At least he had apologised and promised to not do it again, but Dan Heng had an uneasy feeling burning in his stomach, when he watched Ren pensively turn the fleshlight around in his hand. “So what-“

“I have an idea.”

Dan Heng flinched back, when his still shirtless, far larger boyfriend pushed him onto the bed and crowded him against the headrest. A shiver ran down his spine, when he looked up into his lover’s face, red eyes burning with lust and hunger and his lips pulled into a sadistic grin, as he leered down at Dan Heng. “R-Ren, what are you doing-?”

“You’re still horny, right?” Placing the fleshlight next to him, Ren gripped his thighs with both hands to spread them apart and massage them. His massive boner was still stretching the front of his pants and leaving a damp spot where the tip was trapped by the fabric.

“Well-“ Dan Heng averted his gaze, face flushing red, when his boyfriend’s hands travelled upwards until his thumbs were stroking his pussy through his pants. “What do you think…” He groaned a little, gripping Ren’s forearms tightly to keep his hands in place, as he ground his crotch up against his fingers. “You nearly fucked me in public again. Make up for it.”

“So awfully demanding…”, Ren hummed, freeing his wrists from Dan Heng’s grasp to slip his hands underneath his shirt and to shamelessly grope his lean, muscular torso.

“Ren…!” Arching his back to lean into the other’s touch, Dan Heng lifted his arms to allow Ren to pull his shirt off. The cold air hit his burning skin and caused him to shiver underneath Ren’s large palms which quickly moved on to strip him completely.

“And so wet already.” His palm rubbed over Dan Heng’s cunt, spreading the juices around, before giving it a good smack and causing the smaller man to whine in pleasure and pain. But before he could raise his hips to grind them against Ren’s hand, his boyfriend had pulled away and slid off the bed.

“Hey-! Come back!” Huffing, Dan Heng propped himself up on his elbows, cunt aching and expecting to get ravished today.

“Don’t you worry now, princess.” Ren bent down to rummage through a box underneath their bed. “I will indulge you, but…” Dan Heng’s eyes turned into saucers, when the other stood up again, holding a coil of red rope in his hands, the menacingly horny look in his eyes telling the other that today was going to be rough and so filthily good. “We’ll do it on my terms.”

Dan Heng’s throat bobbed, as he gulped and watched Ren creep over with the rope, uncurling it and putting one palm on Dan Heng’s chest to push him into a sitting position at the headrest.

“Ready?” He asked, inquisitively studying Dan Heng’s face. Despite the intensity of his burning red eyes, it gave the smaller man comfort, as it signalled him that his partner cared for him.

“Mhm-!” Dan Heng nodded, spreading his legs to let his boyfriend slide between them and tie his wrists together above his head. His turquoise eyes silently followed Ren who fetched two more lengths of rope which he used to tie his ankles to the bedposts, ensuring he kept them spread. By now, he was blushing even harder, as Ren leered at his exposed pussy, which was leaking and twitching at him invitingly.

“What a beautiful pussy you have~”, Ren hummed, as he stripped off his pants and laid down on the bed, absentmindedly stroking his cock and picking up the fleshlight. Dan Heng could do nothing but watch with wide, desperate eyes how his lover slowly unscrewed the lid and grinned at the replica of his very own cunt. “Mghhh~”

“Hahhh-!” Dan Heng whimpered, when Ren ran his tongue flat over the fake pussy. It felt exactly as if he had done it to Dan Heng himself. “R-Ren, please, anghh~ Hnghhh~!” A string of moans fell out of his mouth, as Ren started suckling on the toy’s clit, his own nub sending sparks of pleasure through his body.

“So wet and naughty…” Ren’s thumbs pushed the artificial hole open and Dan Heng whimpered at feeling his cunt being spread. He couldn’t help but feel jealousy burn in his throat at the way his boyfriend focused so intensely on the toy, licking and sucking at it as if it were the real thing.

“Ren, please…! Come over-!”, he begged, arms and legs futilely tugging at the rope, as he tried to scoot closer to his partner.

“Mm?” Placing a wet kiss on the clit, which caused Dan Heng’s cunt to twitch, Ren glanced over. “Greedy, huh? Doesn’t this feel good enough?” As if to drive his point home, he gently bit the clit, knowing full well Dan Heng would turn into a puddle from the mix of pleasure and pain.

“Hahhh~ Mghhh, w-want you here-!” Dan Heng tried to motion to the wide space between his legs. “Please-! Please fuck my cunt-! Not the toy…!”

“Hmm…” Stroking his big dick, Ren carefully placed the fleshlight down and thoughtfully assessed the mess that was his horny boyfriend. “Since you are already begging so sweetly~”

“Nghhh, Ren-! Sir-!” His legs twitched and shook, when the other rubbed his dick over his pussy, enjoying the wet glide over the swollen lips. “Please put it in…!”

“What a sweet, little slut you are~” After placing a gentle kiss on Dan Heng’s lips, Ren pressed the tip against his tight hole and thrusted inside.

“Ahhh, mghhh~” Dan Heng’s cunt clenched down on the hard flesh like a vice, as his eyes rolled back in ecstasy. Shameless moans spilled past his lips, when Ren started moving at a moderate pace, making sure to thrust in deeply and grind against every sensitive spot inside of him, before slowly pulling out and repeating the motion. “Feels good~!”

“How are you still so tight?” Ren groaned, speeding up his thrusts and putting more force behind them. “I just fingered and tongue-fucked you…” Feeling his tip hit something deep inside of his partner, he gave a few particularly harsh thrusts to slam his cock into it. “Seems like you don’t loosen up as easily as the toy does…”

Dan Heng only whimpered, throwing his head back and spreading his bound legs further as best as he could for Ren.

Suddenly, something wet and twitching touched his lips and when he instinctively opened his mouth, he tasted his partner’s saliva. “Mghh-!” He jolted, when something brushed against his clit and his eyes snapped open.

“Lick, Hengheng~”

The pressure on his pussy only intensified the mind-numbing effects of the pleasure Ren so expertly drove into him. It was only when he saw the devilish look in Ren’s eyes and the wicked grin on his face past a black cylinder, did he realise that he was mouthing the fleshlight.

“Come on, dearest~” The hand that wasn’t holding the fleshlight squeezed Dan Heng’s thigh harshly, the deep and harsh thrusts not losing their speed and power. “Be a good boy and lick~”

“Mfghhh-!” Dan Heng obediently opened his mouth, his body twitching, when the fleshlight was moved downwards, so he was tongueing its clit. At the same time, something wet flicked at his own and it took him a second to realise that it was his own tongue.

“Doesn’t this feel good?~”, Ren teased him, grinding the toy against Dan Heng’s mouth.

“M-Mhm-!” Dan Heng could barely focus on licking, as it sent overwhelming waves of pleasure through his body and with his boyfriend fucking him as deeply as he did, he came in no time. His orgasm crashed into him and shook his whole body in its ties, as he screamed into the toy’s cunt. His own pussy clenched down harshly on Ren’s still moving cock, as he squirted clear liquid all over the bed and his partner.

“Hahhh, ngrhhhh-! Almost, dearest-!” With a feral growl, Ren picked up the pace, slamming his thick cock into Dan Heng’s oversensitive hole. The screams and yells he punched out of his lover with his dick only added to the smaller man’s overstimulation, as he kept stimulating the fleshlight.

“R-Ren-! Ahhh~!” Dan Heng couldn’t think straight anymore, erotic moans freely fell from his mouth, as he was pounded into oblivion. His tongue was aching from the way the toy was pressing down on it and he reluctantly withdrew it to sloppily wrap his lips around the clit and suck on it.

This proved to be too much for his poor cunt, as he soon drove himself to another orgasm. This time, he only felt the beginning of it, as the mind-blowing force of it made his vision go black. Dan Heng distantly felt Ren’s big cock sink fully into him and spear him open to his limits, as he filled him with a huge load of cum. It felt good to be stuffed full and plugged up, but alas, all things had to end.

He awoke with an annoyed groan, as he felt Ren remove the fleshlight from his face and untie the rope around his wrists and ankles, before slowly pulling out. His sensitive walls clenched down on him, the drag from the languid motion hurts after two harsh orgasms in a row. With a whine he opened his eyes, blinking as he adjusted to the light and his partner’s face took shape in front of him.

“Are you okay, Dan Heng?”, Ren asked, pulling him into his embrace, his soft dick resting between their stomachs, as the two cuddled with each other.

“Mhm… Just…” Slowly and steadily, Dan Heng became aware of the excessive amounts of cum leaking out of his pussy and the slick juices staining Ren’s abdomen. “… You’re gross.”

In response, Ren only barked out an amused laugh. “Well, who made me this gross, huh?” Gently removing his partner from his embrace, he leaned over to grab a tissue and wipe Dan Heng’s pussy juices off his abs and pecs, before moving on to clean his leaking cum from his partner’s cunt.

“You started it… You wanted to fuck that thing.” Dan Heng pointed accusingly at the fleshlight next to them, the sun-kissed flesh glistening with spit.

“Right, right…” Discarding the dirty tissue, Ren thoughtfully picked it back up, absentmindedly putting arm around Dan Heng’s waist as he climbed onto his lap. “Steamy Oak… Is that the shop you got it from?”

“Mhm…” Dan Heng nodded, only now getting a clear view of the shop’s brand on the other end of the black cylinder.

“Huh… Never heard of that shop… Much less one that sells magic fleshlights…” Ren assessed the logo, running his thumb over it and scratching at it, as if it would reveal some kind of secret.

“I just stumbled on it by chance, cause it suddenly started raining…”, Dan Heng recounted, turning away from the toy to lay his head on his partner’s shoulder. He couldn’t even remember how it came to be, he just knew he accepted the merchant’s offer, filled out some papers on customisation, left and returned a week later to pick it up.

After a moment of comfortable silence, a thought occurred to him. “… Do you think they make magic dildos too?”

#honkai star rail #blade hsr #hsr blade #dan heng #renheng #hsr fanfic #blade honkai #honkai sr #fanfiction #nsft #⛩️ jays writing

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kwanisms · 11 months

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Accidents Happen — h.hyunjin, l.felix

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➮ witch!Felix × f!Reader × incubus!Hyunjin wc: 10.5k summary: While studying for a witches exam, Felix leaves his materials out where his girlfriend, Y/N, happens upon them. When she reads an incantation, an incubus is accidentally summoned. Deciding to make a spectacle of it, the demon forces Felix to watch as he seduces his girlfriend. genres/themes/au: angst, smut; supernatural, witchcraft, and demonic themes, establish relationship (Felix), s2l (Hyunjin); non idol au, witch au, demon au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, Felix practices witchcraft, alcohol consumption (Y/N has a glass of wine), Hyunjin is a menace and restrains Felix with his powers, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! special taglist: @yoonguurt , @anyamaris , @wooyoungqueen , @kpop-stories-21 , @xsweetelegantdiasterx , @kookthief , @stardragongalaxy , @millennial-fangirl , @blankdyean , @imwithurmother , @bangchans-angel , @oreoqueen , @yjeonginlvr , @zdgx1 , @shuxsoo , @s00buwu , @queenmea604 , @pochaccomin , @katsukis1wife , @linos-catnip Join the taglist! »» Closes 10/30 @ 23:00 CST! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED.

a/n: this one is kinda dark, not gonna lie so read with caution. This isn't a joke lol this is also kind of self indulgent cause I can. I used Google Translate again for the spell, so it might not be super accurate but I'm not really going for accuracy here lol it's smut. Thank you so much for reading, if you like this pls reblog or comment! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), unprotected sex (demons don’t care lol but you should), somnophilia, auralism, mind break, cuckold, use of pet names (Felix calls her angel, baby, but Hyunjin calls her slut, whore, etc), Hyunjin is a menace and Felix is a sobbing mess. Let me know if I missed anything!

dialogue prompt: ❛ I’m going to have you screaming by the end of the night ❜ & ❛ do you really think you’re in a position to be giving orders? ❜

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Witches. Beings that have existed all throughout history and have instilled fear in communities for centuries. Practitioners of dark magic. Beings that worship the devil and sell their souls in exchange for mystical powers. This was how witches were always perceived.

Only it was entirely wrong.

Felix had heard a plethora of names thrown at him all his life. “Witch! Devil-worshiper! Heretic!” The words had been shouted at him from various sources but he knew deep down they were only scared because they didn’t understand.

He was misunderstood, his practices were misunderstood, and magick was misunderstood.

Felix didn’t stand around a cauldron, stirring in weird ingredients like eyes of newts or tiger claws or whatever other things fiction thought sounded bizarre and outlandish. Felix didn’t even own a cauldron. He wasn’t that kind of witch. He focused more on summoning and conjuring. That was his school.

But even the conjuration school of magick had special items he needed in order to do his spells. For that he had to visit Arcana Infinitum. The shop was located in the back corner of the town square, nestled between the ice cream shop and a beautiful and old antique store named Pandora’s Box.

Ignoring the weird looks he got from mothers as they pulled their children along and hurried across the street to avoid him, Felix continued on, the heels of his boots echoing on the stone sidewalk as he walked down past Marino’s and turned the corner.

Arcana Infinitum was a sight for sore eyes after all the glares and stares as Felix had walked from his home he shared with his girlfriend to the town square. He tried to not let it get to him but to see so much hate and disdain in one place made him wonder if moving here to this small town was worth it at all.

Not that he’d ever bring this up with you, his girlfriend.

He crossed the cobbled street and reached the door to the shop and opened it, stepping inside and finding solace in the warm interior. It wasn’t entirely freezing outside but the light mist really made the chilly air bite at his skin, his cheeks and the tip of his nose a bright pink.

“Welcome to-- oh it’s you, Felix!” a voice said and the blond looked up to see one of his favorite shopkeepers smiling at him from the back of the shop. “Hey, Joong,” Felix said as he moved further into the shop, meeting Hongjoong halfway. “What brings you in today?” Hongjoong asked, reaching up to brush some of his bright blue hair out of his eyes.

He wore a simple white button down shirt with bell sleeves cinched at the wrist and black slacks. Over this he wore a simple off white apron. “I’m studying for my exam,” Felix explained, reaching into the small crossbody he carried and pulling out a folded piece of paper. “It’s for my conjuration exam,” he continued, unfolding the sheet and handing it to Hongjoong. “I need these items.”

Felix watched Hongjoong read over the list, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as the older man muttered to himself. “I should have all of this,” Hongjoong finally said. “Look around while I gather your materials.” Felix thanked him as Hongjoong moved to grab a small wire basket and started walking around the shop while he walked over to look at a display of postcards.

Most of them were for the town and all of them were hand drawn. “Who drew these?” Felix called as he looked over the cards. “Oh, that would be Yunho and San,” Hongjoong replied as he moved behind the wooden counter and started searching through the shelves on the back wall.

Felix continued to look around. He had reached a bookcase with old tomes and spellbooks. He ran his fingers over the spines of the books, reading the titles until one caught his eye. A dark purple hardback with gold lettering in Hangul. He grabbed the tome and pulled it from its place. It was heavy as Felix looked over the cover.

“When did this come in?” Felix asked, holding it up to show Hongjoong the cover. “Oh a few days ago!” Hongjoong said as he set the wire basket on the counter and started to add everything up. Felix walked over with the purple book in his hands. “Is it for sale?” he asked softly as he reached the counter.

Hongjoong looked up and smiled before returning to his task. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” he retorted, adding everything up on the calculator before putting in Felix’s discount. “Add this on to my order,” Felix said, setting the book on the counter as Hongjoong started to bag everything.

He picked up the book and put it in the bag and told Felix his total as the latter pulled out his wallet. “Even with the book?” Felix asked. Hongjoong shook his head. “Book is on the house. Think of it as a little slice of home.”

Felix pulled out a few notes and handed them to Hongjoong who promptly entered the amount into the register and put the money away, grabbing Felix’s change. “Tell Y/N I said hey,” Hongjoong said as Felix put his money away and picked up his bag. “I will,” he said with a smile.

Exiting the shop, Felix shifted the bag in his arms as his phone started to ring. He pulled it from his pocket and smiled as he answered it. “Hey babe,” he said softly. “Hey,” came your voice. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t his favorite sound in the world.

“Are you home?” you asked.

“No,” Felix said as he started to walk across the street. “I ran by the shop to get some things for my exam,” he explained. “Hongjoong said to say hi by the way,” he added. You chuckled on the other side. “Of course he did. I’ll say hi next time I see him. Are you heading home now then?” you asked.

Felix could hear voices on your end of the line. “Yeah, hey, what’s that whispering?” he asked as he continued down the sidewalk, offering quiet pardons as he squeezed between other townspeople.

“Oh those are my coworkers and trust me,” you said. “They’re not whispering.” Felix heard a few soft apologies and snorted. “How’s work?” he asked and you sighed. “It’s alright. I wish I was home instead.” Felix laughed as he glanced up and down the street before hurrying across. “Don’t we all.”

You clicked your tongue in feigned annoyance. “You’re one to talk,” you replied. “I have a job!” Felix replied, sounding mildly scandalized. “I just don’t work in an office with a view of the city,” he added. You chuckled and no doubt shook your head. “When are you coming home?” Felix asked as he walked down the street towards your shared home.

“Soon,” you replied. “Cleo has told us she has an end of the day meeting we’re supposed to attend so we’re all in here waiting for that to start. It might run over if she’s any later. So I was wondering if you’d be able to swing by the grocery store and grab the things on the list?”

Felix stopped in his tracks at the bottom of the steps leading up into the house. “I just got home,” he murmured. “I can drop this off and go back,” he added as he started up the steps, sandwiching his phone between his ear and his shoulder and digging for his keys.

“No, it’s okay,” you replied. “I know you’ve got a lot of studying to do. I’ll just stop by on my way home. Dinner will just be a little late tonight,” you replied as Felix unlocked the doors and let himself in. He shut the door before Fanta, his orange familiar cat, couldn’t escape.

“Are you sure?” Felix asked as he walked past the living room and into the kitchen. “Mhm,” you answered. “Cleo’s just entered the room so hopefully this meeting can start and I’ll be out of here sooner than expected. Gotta go,” you whispered. “Okay, I love you,” Felix said quickly. “I love you, too!”

Felix smiled as he hung up the phone and turned to open a cabinet, grabbing one of the glasses and moving to the fridge to get some ice and water. Fanta jumped up onto the counter, letting out a croaky meow as Felix turned to look over his shoulder. “What have I said about jumping onto the counter, Fanta?” The animal let out a small meow before moving and hopping down.

Felix rolled his eyes, sipping on his water and scrolling through his feed. “The world is a crazy place,” Felix started as Fanta walked over to the back door and meowed, pawing at the wood. “You live in a nice warm house. You’re safe here. Why would you want to go outside where you could be killed?” Felix asked, walking over and picking up the cat.

Fanta meowed as Felix cuddled him close. “Oh, you’re so dramatic,” Felix muttered as Fanta struggled to get free before Felix let him hop down. “Fine. I try to show you love and you don’t appreciate it. I’m going to study.”

Felix set his empty glass in the sink and grabbed his purchase from Arcana Infinitum before heading upstairs. He set the bag on his desk and then headed into your shared bedroom and sat on the foot of the bed, reaching down to untie his boots. Had he been home, his mother would have hit him over the head for wearing his shoes all over the house but you didn’t seem to mind.

Once his boots were removed, he started changing into more comfortable clothes, tossing his black jeans and shirt into the hamper and pulling on some gray sweats and an oversized white tee.

Once he was comfortable, Felix returned to his study where he started to unpack the items he’d bought, setting them aside as he did so. He pulled out the purple Korean book of spells and opened it, eyes scanning the pages written entirely in Hangul.

Maybe he’d do a little light reading before studying. He’d gotten the book for free after all. Felix set the book on the chaotic and messy surface of his desk, turning the page, and started reading.

When you arrived home after stopping by the grocery store, it was much later than you liked. The meeting thankfully hadn’t gone on for very long and the bus to your small town on the outskirts of the city didn’t eat too much time either. It was when you arrived at the grocery store to pick up a few things that things went wrong.

As usual, one of the elderly ladies in the town had to stop you and lecture you about the uses of witchcraft and making deals with the devil. You had to explain for what felt like the millionth time that you weren’t the one practicing magick nor were you in the habit of speaking about your boyfriend like that. You reminded them that magick wasn’t harmful. It wasn’t like what the movies portray it as.

One lady in particular had held you up as you tried to check out until you told her to bugger off out of frustration, grabbing your bags and quickly leaving the store with your purchases. The walk back to the house wasn’t long either but it was still late as you let yourself in with your key, careful to make sure Fanta didn’t try another daring escape out the door.

You carried the bags over to the kitchen and started putting the cold items away. You’d picked up another tub of ice cream knowing you’d need some after the week you’d had. Once you had put most of the groceries away, you were working in the pantry when you heard a creak of wood above you.

“Felix?” you called, stopping your movements. When he didn’t respond, you decided to go upstairs and check on him. Climbing the steps one at a time you made your way up and at the landing, turned around the bannister and approached the door to his study.

You knocked softly but when there was no answer, you turned the knob and pushed the door open, peering in to find your boyfriend fast asleep, his head resting on his arms.

You smiled as you pushed the door open fully and stepped into the room. Reaching down, you brushed some of his blond hair back and then your eyes landed on a small strip of paper lying on the book he had open on the desk.

You picked it up and scanned the words curiously. It was in Korean, that much you could tell. Felix had taught you the Korean alphabet and how to pronounce the letters and he had taught you a couple words so you could at least read some things. You recognized one word on the paper but regardless you read the sentence aloud.

“Gajang gip-eun jiog-eseo neoleul bulleonae gyeolsogsikyeo jugessda.”

You shrugged your shoulders and set the paper back down before turning to head back to the door until something caught your eye.The flame of a candle, dancing inside the glass. Stopping in your tracks, you turned back to face his desk and shook your head as you moved to the lit candle on the desk, leaning in to blow out the flame.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told you not to light candles if you’re going to fall asleep,” you murmured, gently stroking your boyfriend’s hair before exiting the room, closing the door with a click and returning to the kitchen downstairs to start dinner.

It had been a while since you’d made a nice home cooked meal, the two of you had been ordering out lately and you decided to do something nice not only for your hard working boyfriend but for yourself.

You seasoned and prepared the chicken, letting it marinate for thirty minutes as you prepared the vegetables and started your sauce in a pan. Once the skillet was oiled and heated, you added the chicken and let it sizzle for a bit before stirring it and added the veggies.

As you worked, you murmured the phrase you’d read earlier, turning it into a little song as music played in your head. You turned the chicken over again and finally poured the sauce in while some noodles boiled. “Okay, I need actual music now,” you said to yourself pulling your phone from your purse and turning some Mikazuki BIGWAVE on.

Felix awoke with a start, eyes snapping open as he looked around. He sat up, a loose page from his notes sticking to his cheek. He grabbed it and set it back on the desk before looking around.

The door to the study was cracked open and he could smell something wafting through the air towards him. He looked down at his desk, the purple book lying innocently and looking back at him. Something was different. He noticed a small piece of parchment with Korean written on it.

He picked it up and read the sentence quietly. He didn’t like the words on it and shook his head, tucking the piece of paper away in the back pages of the book before marking his place and shutting the book. He could resume reading it later. He picked up the tome and set it on one of the shelves before getting up and stretching.

He pulled open the door, the smell of dinner getting stronger as he made his way out of the study and down the stairs. “Y/N?” Felix called. “In here!” He followed the sound of your voice and cooking into the kitchen where you looked up and smiled at him. He walked over, planting a kiss on your cheek, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back.

“It smells really good, babe,” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder. “It should be ready soon,” you said softly, giggling as he moved to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Mmm, you smell good, too,” he added, pressing a couple soft kisses to the base of your neck. “I’m not for dinner,” you replied. “Hmm, maybe for dessert?” he whispered, sending a chill up your spine.

“Dinner first,” you retorted. “No,” he whined, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Yes,” you said with a laugh. “Dinner first,” you set the spatula down and turned in his hold to face him, bringing your hands up to cup his face. “Then you can help me clean up and get your dessert after,” you added, pressing a kiss to his lips. Felix chased your lips as you pulled back.

“Fine,” he pouted as you turned back to finish dinner, adding the cooked pasta and giving everything a good mix as Felix moved to grab bowls from the cabinet. “There’s garlic bread, too,” you announced as he set the bowls on the counter and then grabbed two plates.

“What is it?” he asked as he moved to stand beside you. “Just a chicken recipe I found on Pinterest,” you replied struggling. “It’s got zucchini, red peppers, a white sauce and then chicken,” you explained as you turned the range off and started to scoop some pasta and chicken up to place in the bowls Felix held.

“Next bowl,” you said as you waited for Felix but he leaned in. “Pay the tax first,” he said, holding back a laugh. You rolled your eyes, kissing him before he moved the other bowl over.

Once the food had been served and you both had glasses of wine, you sat down and started eating. “This is so fucking good,” Felix said, covering his mouth with his hand. “You like it?” you asked, smiling at him. “Yes! I love it,” he replied, taking another bite.

“Good,” you chirped, taking a bite as well. “Neomu masisseo!” you heard your boyfriend say and you smiled.

Felix was placing another forkful of pasta into his mouth when he heard you mutter something under your breath.

"Neoleul bulleonae gyeolsogsikyeo jugessda."

He froze in place and slowly turned to face you. You had picked up some noodles and placed them in your mouth, glancing up and smiling at him. He couldn't be sure if he heard you properly.

"What did you say?" he asked softly, making you glance up at him. "Hmm?" you asked quietly. "What did you just say?" Felix asked again. "Neoleul bulleonae gyeolsogsikyeo jugessda," you repeated.

Felix's eyes widened, leaning forward as you continued to recite the evocation he'd seen earlier. "Gajang gip-eun jiog-eseo--"

Felix clamped his hand over your mouth. He shook his head. "Don't," he continued. "Don't finish that."

Your eyes widened comically and you nodded as Felix finally let go and sat back in his chair. “Where did you even learn that?” he asked, watching as a look of confusion crossed your face. “From a paper in your study,” you replied. Felix mentally cursed himself for leaving things out.

He would just have to perform a spell of protection before bed.

“It’s just gibberish, right?” you asked, innocently. Felix forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly.

“Just gibberish.”

After dinner, Felix helped you clean up, washing the dishes and handing them for you to rinse and set aside to dry. His mind was reeling with thoughts of what you might have summoned. He knew that piece of paper was a summoning spell. ‘From the depths of hell,’ he thought to himself. ‘It couldn’t have taken,’ he continued. ‘She only recited the evocation. She didn’t do the entire ritual.’

Once the kitchen was cleaned, you set your gloves on the edge of the sink to let them dry and turned to Felix, smiling at him. “Well,” you started, drawing his attention as he pulled his own gloves off. “You helped me clean up,” you continued. Felix nodded, looking around. “I always do,” he replied.

You raised an eyebrow at his reply. “Don’t you want your dessert now?” you asked, reaching forward to grab one of his hands. Felix’s eyes widened. Of course, how could he have forgotten?

“How about a movie first?” Felix offered. He wasn’t quite in the mood now but with some coaxing, he knew his mood could change quickly. You rolled your eyes and leaned forward, connecting your lips with his. “Fine,” you murmured against his smile. “A movie first, then dessert.”

You pulled him from the kitchen, leading the way into the living room and over to the couch. Felix sat down, grabbing the remote and turned the tv on as you settled in next to him. He flipped through the options, settling on one and starting the film quickly.

It only took a few minutes of your fingers playing with his hair for him to pull you onto his lap, hands on your hips as you grinded on him, moaning into each other’s mouths. “Fuck,” Felix groaned, hand resting on the back of your neck. “You’re so fucking hot,” he moaned as your hips moved, grinding against his erection.

“I need you, Lix,” you whined, hands resting on his shoulders. “You need me, yeah?” he asked, looking up at you through heavy lids. You nodded quickly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “Fuck, I better give you what you need then, hadn’t I?”

You scrambled off his lap, taking his hand and pulling your boyfriend up the stairs, heading for the bedroom where you shut the door after him. Felix was on you as soon as the door shut, hands grabbing your hips and guiding you to the bed before he pushed you back onto the mattress, discarding his shirt and climbing on top of you.

“You’ve been locked away in your study so many nights,” you whispered as Felix kissed a path down the side of your neck. “Have I been neglecting you, baby?” he mumbled against your skin.

You nodded, breathing heavily as you felt his hands move to undo your pants. “I’m sorry, angel,” he continued as he started to pull your pants and underwear down, discarding them on the floor before pushing your thighs apart, settling between them on his stomach.

Your walls clenched around nothing as he eyed your glistening sex hungrily, licking his lips before meeting your gaze, his eyes boring into yours.

“Let me make it up to you.”

Felix awoke with a start, sitting up and gasping as he looked around the dark room. Light pattering against the window told Felix that it was raining. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he pulled himself from the tangle of sheets, glancing back at you sleeping peacefully beside him.

Glancing at the clock, the red numbers read three thirty-three. ‘The Witching Hour,’ Felix thought as he slowly got up from the bed, careful to not disturb you. He walked towards the bedroom door, turning the knob slowly and pulling the door open.

The hall outside was dark, the pattering of rain was louder as Felix cautiously stepped out into the corridor, the wood creaking under his bare feet. He stopped just outside the opened bedroom door and looked around, the small plug-in lights creating a line of lights along the corridor floor.

As he started forward towards the stairs, Felix turned his head towards the study. The door was shut firmly as he had left it earlier. He headed down the stairs, looking over the railing into the living room. Upon reaching the landing, he turned and walked into the living room, glancing around.

His eyes strained, trying to see in the low light. He saw nothing out of the ordinary and let out a sigh, now truly wondering what woke him up. He started for the kitchen with the idea of getting a glass of water when he heard a soft creaking to his left. He turned his head quickly, finding the small door under the stairs ajar.

Felix moved to one of the end tables between the sofa and the loveseat, turning on the lamp and adding some illumination to the room. He continued forward slowly, keeping his eye on the door until he reached it. Taking the knob quietly, he pulled the door open and reached inside, pulling the string for the overhead light.

Inside the tiny storage space, nothing was out of the ordinary. Everything seemed to be in place. Perhaps you had gone into this space earlier and didn’t get the door shut completely. Felix tugged the string, throwing the space into darkness before backing up and closing the door, making sure the latch clicked.

He turned and headed into the kitchen, moving to grab a clean glass and get some ice water. As he was sipping on the water, he heard what sounded like knocking and looked up before moving around the counter and into the living room again. He strained his ears, listening for any sound over the soft pattering of rain on the roof.

He walked over to the door and peered out one of the windows on the side of the frame. He saw nothing and turned on the porch light, still seeing nothing. Shrugging, Felix turned the light off and headed into the kitchen to set his empty glass in the sink before making his way to the stairs.

Just as he was about to take the first step, a series of slow, heavy, and evenly paced knocks rang out from behind him. He froze and turned around to look at the door, his pulse starting to beat more heavily. He moved slowly, walking back to the window and peering out. Through the glass he could see a dark shadow standing on the porch.

He pulled back and stared at the door. ‘Who could it be this late?’ he wondered. Deciding to take another peek, his eyes widened when he saw the figure was gone. ‘I really shouldn’t open the door,’ he told himself. ‘But as long as I keep the outside door shut and locked it should be fine, right?’

He took a deep breath, taking the door knob in one hand as he turned the deadbolt, unlocking it with a click before he turned the knob and pulled open the heavy wooden door. The outside door was locked still as it was when he locked up the house for the night.

Outside the porch was empty, just like it had been the last time he peered outside through the window. Felix leaned against the door, looking to the sides of the porch the best he could before he let out the breath he was holding. ‘There’s no one here,’ he told himself. “You’re seeing things,” he whispered, taking a step back and closing the door and engaging the lock.

He shook his head, chuckling to himself before starting up the stairs. As he reached the top landing, his smile fell as his eyes landed on the door to his study. The door that he knew had been closed when he went downstairs not twenty minutes ago was now ajar.

Felix glanced towards the bedroom and then back to his study as his feet slowly and quietly carried him forward. He reached the study and carefully pushed the door open, looking inside. The lamp on his desk was on but other than that, nothing seemed to be out of place.

Felix let out an exasperated sigh and stepped into the room and turned off the lamp, throwing the room into darkness. He glanced out the window, doing a double take when he noticed a dark figure standing in the backyard. He rushed to the window but the figure was gone. ‘What is going on with you?’

Felix shook his head and pulled the sheer curtains shut. As he turned back for the door, his breath caught in his throat. He could see a dark figure standing in the corner. His heart rate increased, a cold chill breaking throughout his body and a shiver running up his spine at the sight.

A dark heavy feeling settled in his stomach as his mouth started to run dry. ‘Just ignore it,’ he told himself. ‘It will go away if you ignore it.’ He focused his eyes on the door and started towards it, pretending as if he hadn’t seen the figure. Just as he reached the door, his body betrayed him and his head turned slightly to look at the dark figure which was now next to the door and next to him.

Felix’s lips parted but before he could call out for you, he felt a hand around his neck as the figure grabbed him, lifting him clean off his feet and slamming him against the wall quickly. Felix clawed at the hand around his throat as the figure leaned in, sniffing him before he heard a deep, almost demonic voice say “it’s not you.”

It let go of his neck and Felix fell to his feet, coughing as he reached up to massage his neck. The dark shadow pinned him against the wall, growling dangerously. “Wh-what do you want?” Felix managed to croak out, his voice hoarse and weak. “What do I want?” the figure asked. “I was summoned here.”

Felix’s eyes widened. The incantation, the one he told you was just gibberish. It had brought this? Was it a demon? Before Felix could voice any of his questions, the figure spoke. “I know what you are, witch,” it said. “But I also know you didn’t summon me, so tell me,” the figure continued.

Before it could ask its own question, a voice called out and Felix’s heart dropped into his stomach. “No,” he whispered as the figure turned its head, letting out a chuckle. “You’re not alone,” the demon said. “It must have been her.”

Before Felix could protest, the demon dropped him, throwing him to the floor. Felix looked up but the dark figure was gone. “No,” he said, scrambling up to his feet and rushing out of the study, his feet thudding against the wooden floor as he made for the bedroom.

Upon entering, he looked around wildly as you sat up and turned on the lamp on your bedside table. “What’s wrong?” you asked as Felix looked around and finally moved over to the bed, making sure to check under it before looking in the closet. “Felix?” you asked softly as he moved to look out the window into the backyard but saw nothing.

“Felix, what’s wrong?” you asked again as he moved to the bed and sat back down. “Nothing,” he answered. “I thought I saw something,” he added before waving his hand and pulling the covers back and draping them over his legs. “Let’s just go back to sleep, love,” he murmured.

You nodded, turning off the lamp and settled back under the covers, Felix wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “Goodnight,” you whispered as he placed a couple kisses on your shoulder. “Goodnight, angel,” Felix replied, his voice soft in your ear.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep but Felix awoke with a start, blinking rapidly as he looked around. He was no longer in bed. He was instead sitting in the chair in the corner of the bedroom.

“What the-” he tried to push himself up but found he couldn’t move. ‘Sleep paralysis?’ he wondered before looking down and saw he was bound, quite literally, to the chair. White strips of cotton tying his wrists and ankles to the arms and legs of the chair.

“What the fuck?” he whispered, looking down and trying in vain to free himself.

“Don’t even bother,” a voice said and Felix looked up. The dark figure was standing in the corner, glowing red eyes looking at him and sending a chill up his spine. “You won’t be getting out until I’m done.” Felix stared back at the creature. “Done? Done with what?” Felix asked.

The figure began to move towards the bed. “Don’t,” Felix warned as the shadow stopped near the bed. Felix watched as the figure reached forward and turned on the bedside lamp near you.

Expecting to see a grotesque demonic presence, Felix was shocked when a young man, seemingly no older than he, came into view. He had shoulder length blond hair that fell in soft waves, half of it pulled up into a ponytail with strands framing his face. He was tall and slim, wearing a fitted black suit.

“Don’t what?” the man asked, his voice smooth and clear. “Don’t touch her?” he continued. Felix struggled against the bonds holding him in place. “She summoned me, did she not?” he asked as one hand moved to take hold of the covers. “I said don’t!” Felix snapped.

The man looked up, his red irises burning into Felix. He moved around to the foot of the bed, bringing him closer to Felix’s position, and took a seat. “Do you really think you’re in a position to be giving orders?” the man asked, tilting his head to the side. Felix said nothing, only staring back at the demon.

“Don’t touch her,” Felix said again. The figure sighed and quick as a flash, the chair Felix was sitting in was pushed back, the demon had him in another chokehold. “I’ll do whatever I want,” he growled, his voice demonic and low again. “She summoned me. Not you.”

Felix stared up into the red irises. “So if I want to fuck her and make you watch, I will.”

Felix struggled to speak, spitting out the words. “Didn’t know--” The demon let go of his throat, watching as Felix coughed. “She didn’t know what she was doing. I’m the witch here. Not her. She doesn’t know what any of this is.” The demon let the chair fall back onto all four legs as he stepped back, tucking his hands into his pockets. “What’s your name, witch?” he asked.

Felix looked up at him, the position he was in made him feel inferior. Like he was beneath this creature. “Felix,” he finally spat out, the contempt and fury he held for the creature finally surfacing. “Felix,” the creature parroted. “Nice to meet you Felix, I’m Hyunjin.”

Felix narrowed his eyes. “I don’t care what your name is,” he started. “My girlfriend isn’t a witch. She doesn’t understand what she was doing so you need to leave her alone,” he hissed. The demon, Hyunjin, smiled again. “Do you know what she said in that spell?” he asked, cocking his head.

Felix nodded, not needing to think about it.

“Gajang--”

“In English, if you would please, Felix,” Hyunjin interrupted, the smirk on his face never faltering.

Felix glared at the demon, mustering as much hatred as he could.

“I summon you from the depths of hell and likewise bind you to me,” Felix answered finally.

“Exactly,” Hyunjin replied. “But she didn’t know!” Felix countered as the demon moved from the foot of the bed. “She was just reading it! She thought it was gibberish!”

Hyunjin turned to look at Felix, now standing beside your sleeping form. “Gibberish? How could she possibly think it was gibberish?” he asked. “Because she doesn’t understand Korean. She can speak the words and read them but she doesn’t know what they mean unless I tell her,” Felix explained as Hyunjin walked back over.

“Are you being facetious?” the demon asked. Felix shook his head vigorously.

“I’m not.”

Hyunjin let out a sigh and stood up straight. “Regardless,” he started. “I was summoned. I have to complete the ritual.” Felix struggled against his restraints as the demon moved to your side of the bed. “Stop it please! Stop!” Felix pleaded. Hyunjin held up his hand.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “You’ll wake her.” ‘That’s it! Wake her up!’

Felix opened his mouth to call out to you. To wake you up but Hyunjin was on him in seconds, taking Felix’s chin in his hand. “Do it and I’ll gut you then I’ll snap her neck” he warned his voice deep and demonic. Felix’s eyes widened and he nodded silently.

Hyunjin let go of Felix and returned to the bed, sitting beside your sleeping form once again. “Y/N,” he said softly. Felix watched in horror as the demon gently brushed his fingers along your arm. “Y/N, sweetheart,” he continued and it dawned on Felix that Hyunjin was speaking in his voice. Felix’s own voice was coming out of the demon.

You murmured in your sleep, rolling onto your back, one hand resting on your stomach and the other falling onto Felix’s empty space. “Y/N,” Hyunjin repeated in Felix’s stolen voice. “Baby.” Felix felt his blood boil as Hyunjin’s hand cupped your cheek. “Get your hands off of her!” Felix snapped.

Hyunjin looked up, red irises glowing as he glared at Felix. “I warned you once,” he said darkly. “Don’t make me do it again.” Felix felt a cold shiver run up his spine. Something in the demon’s voice made him freeze up. “I won’t hesitate to snap her neck,” he threatened.

“So stop talking.”

Felix nodded, looking from the demon’s eyes to your sleeping form.

You tried to open your eyes but your lids were too heavy. You weren’t sure what woke you until you felt a hand on your cheek. “Y/N?” you heard Felix’s voice. “Y/N, sweetheart,” he said again. You murmured, uncertain of the words leaving your lips. You heard a chuckle. “Shh,” you heard Felix say again.

“Felix,” you finally whined as you felt the sheets being pulled back. “I’m right here,” you heard him whisper, feeling his hand moving up your thigh to your hip, pushing your sleep shirt up past your hip. “Mmh, Felix,” you mumbled as his hand moved back down, dipping between your thighs.

“Oh shit,” you gasped, back arching as your fingers dug into the sheets. “Shh,” your boyfriend whispered again. “Let me take care of you.”

You felt his fingers push your panties aside, teasing your entrance, parting your lips and finding your clit. You let out a moan as he drew slow circles on your clit. “That’s it,” you heard him coo. “Part your legs for me.” You did as he asked, spreading your thighs. “Good girl,” you heard him purr. “So good for me. So obedient.”

Your lips parted in a moan as you felt his fingers sink into your heat. “Oh fuck,” he groaned, slowly pumping his fingers in an out of your cunt. “I can’t wait to be inside you,” you heard him whisper in your ear, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. “You want that?” he asked, chuckling softly as your walls clenched around his fingers. “Yes,” you breathed, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

You felt his lips connect with yours, moaning into his mouth as you felt his fingers curl upwards. “F-Felix,” you moaned, one of your hands moving to grab his wrist as he sped up his movements, thumb rubbing against your clit in time with the thrust and curl of his fingers inside you. “I’m gonna--” you gasped, thighs twitching as your orgasm approached.

“I know,” he replied. “So do it,” you heard your boyfriend groan. “Cum for me, baby girl. Come on my fingers.”

Your back arched, a high pitched moan leaving your lips as you came around your boyfriend’s fingers. You felt his fingers slow to a halt before he carefully removed them, leaving your walls clenching around nothing. “Good girl,” you heard his voice.

You felt the bed shift as he moved. “Lix?” you called out, eyes fluttering to open. You felt his breath hot against your core. “I’m right here, baby,” he replied, hands resting on your hips. “Keep those pretty thighs open for me.”

You relaxed, head falling back against the pillows as your eyes struggled to stay open. You let out a whimper as you felt his tongue against your clit, slow deliberate licks until his lips connected with your clit, softly suckling, teasing occasionally with his tongue.

Your body shuddered, sensitive after your first intense orgasm. The slight burn only added to the pleasure as your boyfriend continued to toy with your clit, bringing you to the brink only to pull back at the last second, leaving you teetering on the edge.

“Felix, please,” you whined. “Please let me cum.”

You felt him chuckle against you. “Only because you asked so nicely, baby,” he murmured. Your hand moved, fingers threading through his hair as his tongue moved against your clit, each flick bringing you closer and closer until you finally came with a mewl, thighs threatening to close on your boyfriend’s head, but he managed to keep them open, allowing you to ride out your high until your body shuddered from sensitivity.

“Lixie, please,” you whined. You felt him press light kisses along the inside of your thighs, giggling when he playfully nipped at your skin. “That tickles,” you breathed. You felt the bed shift, Felix kissing up your hip, playfully sinking his teeth into your skin before continuing kissing up your body and the side of your neck. “God you’re so pretty,” you heard him whisper in your ear.

“Felix,” you giggled as his hands skimmed over your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You felt him smile against the skin of your cheek, breath fanning over your ear. “Crazy thing actually,” he said softly.

“I’m not Felix.”

Your eyes snapped open. The first thing to greet you was the red lighting of the room. It was your room but it also wasn’t. You gasped as the man on top of you lifted his head and you finally got a look at his face. He was handsome, extremely so with plush peach lips and shoulder length blond hair. His red irises burned into your eyes and you found it hard to look away.

“Hello there,” he said, his voice no longer masked by your boyfriend’s voice. “What the f--” you started but he pressed a finger to your lips, effectively silencing you. “Shh,” he said softly. He pulled his hand back, replacing it with his lips. You pulled back. “What’s going on?” you asked.

“Who are you?”

He smiled, tilting his head as he studied your face, before cupping your cheek. “I’m Hyunjin,” he answered, thumb stroking your cheek. “Where am I?” you asked, trying to sit up but his weight prevented you from moving. “You’re in your bed,” he replied.

He turned his head to the side and you followed his line of sight where you saw a floor to ceiling mirror taking up most of the wall beside your closet. That definitely wasn’t in your room.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the mirror. The mirror clearly wasn’t reflecting what was happening around you. Instead, it was almost like a window to your room where you saw yourself sleeping peacefully in your bed, Felix beside you.

You turned your head back to look up at Hyunjin. “Is this a dream?” you asked and Hyunjin nodded slowly. “It is,” he confirmed before leaning down, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Doesn’t that make me a bad person? Dreaming about another man?” you asked, feeling your breath catch in your throat.

Hyunjin’s free hand had slipped between your bodies and was slowly dragging up and down your slit. “No,” he answered, shaking his head. “I’m merely a figment of your imagination, Y/N,” he explained. “When you wake up, you won’t even remember this.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt Hyunjin’s fingers push into your cunt again, lips parting as you moaned. “Oh f-fuuuck,” you moaned, back arching. Hyunjin chuckled, dipping his head down to kiss down the side of your neck. “That’s it, pretty girl,” Hyunjin whispered in your ear.

“Don’t worry about anything else. Just listen to the sound of my voice.”

Felix glared at the demon hovering over you, his head was ducked, lips near your ear as he whispered. You were stirring in your sleep, whimpers and moans leaving your lips despite his hand not even leaving your cheek. “What are you doing to her?” Felix asked softly, knowing full well the demon could hear him.

Hyunjin pulled back and turned his head to look at him, his red irises glowing still.

“I can’t just physically take her,” Hyunjin explained. “I have to infiltrate her dreams first,” he added.

“Come on, Lix,” Hyunjin said with a smirk and Felix narrowed his eyes. “You’re a witch but you know all of this. This is amateur stuff.” Felix gritted his teeth as Hyunjin turned his attention back to you as you whispered a word. Felix felt his stomach drop.

You had whispered a name. Hyunjin’s name.

Felix felt a pang. A stab of betrayal but he couldn’t focus on that. He knew you were in some kind of trance. It wasn’t your fault.

“Perfect,” the demon said softly and moved his hand to grab the covers, pulling them back. “Don’t touch her, please,” Felix pleaded. Hyunjin ignored him, pulling the covers down to the foot of the bed. “Don’t touch her!” Felix hissed as Hyunjin slowly ran his hand up your leg.

“What are you gonna do?” Hyunjin asked, turning to look at Felix, a smirk on his lips.

Felix struggled against his bonds as Hyunjin moved slowly, unbuttoning his top and shrugging it off. His skin seemed to have an aura to it and he glowed. Hyunjin’s hand moved to remove your shorts, pulling your underwear with them. “Please,” Felix begged, feeling his eyes burn as tears started to form.

Hyunjin scoffed as he discarded your clothes, pushing the hem of your shirt up to expose your chest adorned in soft pink lace that left little to the imagination. “She wear this specifically for you?” Hyunjin asked, turning to lock eyes with Felix who tried to free his hands.

His eyes widened as the sound of fabric tearing met his ears. Hyunjin had ripped the bralette down the center, exposing your breast. “Stop, please!” Felix sobbed, pulling violently at his bonds, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled. He heard Hyunjin click his tongue.

“Now, now,” the demon said mockingly. “You’re going to miss it if you aren’t watching.”

Felix opened his eyes to glare at the demon, his lashes wet with tears that had finally spilled, staining his red cheeks.

Hyunjin’s smirk widened. “Great. Now that I have your attention,” he said as he undid his belt and pulled it free, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter, hands moving to undo the button and zipper of his pants.

“Enjoy the show.”

“This feels so wrong,” you whispered as Hyunjin kissed down the valley of your chest. “Oh,” he said softly against your skin. “But it’s not real,” he reminded you. You let out a sigh, moaning as he sank his teeth into your skin. “Then why does it feel so real?” you gasped as he kissed his way back to your lips.

“Are you telling me you’ve never had dreams that felt real before?” he mused, not giving you a chance to answer as he took your lips in a messy, wet kiss, tongue moving against yours languidly. “No, I have,” you replied when he pulled away. “But they’ve never felt like this.”

Hyunjin chuckled, pushing his long tresses from his face as he knelt between your thighs. You hadn’t had the chance to notice until now that he was entirely nude. Your eyes traveled down his chest, taking note of his slim but toned body already glistening with a layer of sweat.

Before your eyes could continue past his navel, he clicked his tongue, almost in disapproval and you glanced back up to meet his gaze. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?” he asked teasingly.

You felt your cheeks burn under his heated gaze as he chuckled, his hand moving to push your knees further apart, spreading you more for him. You glanced quickly down, your own body obscuring your view of his cock as he guided the tip to your entrance.

“And you promise this isn’t real?” you asked softly, causing him to look up from where your bodies were about to connect. He gave you a breathtaking smile and nodded. “I promise,” he replied softly.

“None of this is real,” he added before slowly pushing into you. You let out a gasp as his length glided easily into you, stretching you open yet you felt no pain. No sting that usually accompanied the stretch.

It was entirely unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time. It was different from how Felix felt. Hyunjin was bigger, not just in stature. “Relax,” Hyunjin whispered, moving one of his hands to your thigh, rubbing soothingly. “That’s it” he continued as he glided further.

“Relax and let me in.”

“So f-full,” you murmured as you felt Hyunjin bottom out. He chuckled, his hand moving from your hip up to gently grope your chest. Your walls fluttered around his cock, gripping him tightly. “Such a responsive slut,” he chuckled and you moaned loudly.

Hyunjin gave you a couple slow thrusts, allowing you to feel every curve and ridge of his cock before he set a steady pace, pumping in and out of you at a torturously slow speed.

“Faster,” you gasped as you felt his thumb brush over your nipple. “Faster?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Please,” you pleaded. “Want more. Need more.”

Hyunjin chuckled, his hand moving back down to your waist. “If that’s what you want,” he replied, picking up the pace, his hips hitting yours with each thrust.

Your back arched off the mattress, moaning wantonly. It wasn’t like you shared any walls with any neighbors and regardless, this was a dream anyway.

Felix watched Hyunjin parted your thighs. From his position, he couldn’t see much but the demon had you completely naked and spread out before him.

“Please,” Felix sobbed softly as he turned his gaze away. He could hear your soft moans and the thought of watching another man have you the way he had you, the thought of another man making love to you, had his stomach churning.

“You’re going to want to watch this,” Hyunjin called but Felix shook his head, refusing to look.

“Watch this or I’ll snap her neck,” the demon snapped, his deep gravelly voice enough to force Felix to look back. He could tell Hyunjin had bottomed out, cock shoved inside you. “Just stop please!” Felix cried.

“Why won’t you just leave us alone?”

The demon chuckled but punctuated it with a groan as he pulled back, hips snapping forward and driving his cock back into your walls. You let out a moan, eyes still shut as Hyunjin set a steady pace.

“She gave me permission, you know,” he heard the demon say and Felix glared at Hyunjin.

“She’s asleep. How can she consent to this?” he growled, anger flooding his senses. Hyunjin chuckled, his hands moving to your hips and holding you in place as he continued you fucked you against the mattress.

“You like that, Y/N?” he asked, addressing you directly.

You moaned in response. “Words, sweetheart,” Hyunjin said, his voice steady and calm despite the way his hips moved. “Y-yes,” you choked out. Felix’s heart skipped a beat. ‘It’s not real. He has her under some sort of spell. She doesn’t know what’s going on!’ he told himself.

“She’s really enjoying herself,” Hyunjin said, addressing Felix now.

“Such a good little slut,” Hyunjin scoffed, giving you a harsh thrust, making you cry out. “Don’t hurt her!” Felix sobbed. “Please. Just… don’t hurt her,” he repeated. The demon chuckled lowly but said nothing else, slowing his thrusts to a roll. Your moans came from the back of your throat, deep and almost guttural.

“Hyun-Hyunjin!” you gasped. Hearing you say another man’s name had Felix crying harder. He felt entirely powerless. He could do nothing but sit there and wait for the demon to finish having its way with you and leave. He could do nothing but watch.

He hated the demon. He hated Hyunjin. And most of all, he hated himself for bringing that book into the house. Had he known, he never would have brought it in. He would have left it in Hongjoong’s shop for eternity. When everything was said in done, he would have to return the book to the shop in the morning.

“Oh fuck,” he heard Hyunjin growl. “She’s so fucking tight,” he continued. “Are you even fucking her properly?” Hyunjin scoffed, his voice strained. Felix felt anger and jealousy bubble up in his chest.

How dare he imply Felix didn’t satisfy you. The two of you had always been honest and communicated about your sexual needs with one another and never once had you expressed anything other than satisfaction. You often praised his performance.

You let out a small moan, almost a whimper of pleasure and it made Felix’s heart sink in his chest. He hung his head, silent tears falling from his eyes onto the material of his gray sweats. ‘Please let this end.’

“Fuck you feel so good,” Hyunjin murmured, slowing his hips and pulling from you. Letting out a whine, you reached for him, protesting as you felt him leaving your walls empty and aching for his cock to return. “Come here,” he said softly, grabbing your arm and gently but firmly pulling you up and flipping you over onto your stomach, facing the mirror.

He was behind you, pushing your knees apart with his own and guiding the head of his cock back to your waiting hole. You moaned as he slipped back in easily, his hips meeting your ass as he buried himself balls deep inside you. “Hyunjin,” you gasped.

He leaned over your back, keeping himself propped up as he wrapped his arm around your chest and resumed thrusting into you, the new angle allowing his cock to hit deeper and making you cry out. “Oh sweetheart,” he panted in your ear. “I’m gonna have you screaming by the end of the night,” he murmured before throwing all caution out the window.

Your fingers dug into the sheets under you as he pounded into you, the sound of skin on skin filling the room but not covering the sounds of your whimpers and moans.

Your mind went blank, almost numb as all thoughts left your mind and the only thing you could focus on was the mounting pleasure in the pit of your stomach and the flexing of Hyunjin’s muscles around you as he tightened his hold on you, hips slamming against your ass. Your moans and cries growing in pitch.

“That’s it,” Hyunjin grunted in your ear, his voice dropping an octave. “Scream for me. Say my name.”

“H-Hyunjin,” you sobbed, your body writhing under him from the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins. “Louder,” he ordered. “Scream it.” You cried out his name as he rammed all of his length into you at once, driving the head of his cock as far as he could and you swore you felt it in your stomach. ‘Is it bigger than it was a minute ago?’ You were sure he wasn’t that big before.

“What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”

You moaned, head lolling as he thrust into you harder. “Am I fucking you that good? Has your mind gone completely blank?” You moaned in response, eyes fluttering shut as your walls spasmed around his cock, gripping him tightly.

“Fuck, keep squeezing my cock like that and I’ll cum,” Hyunjin growled in your ear. “You want that, don’t you? Want me to fill this pretty cunt with my cum.” Your walls clenched around his cock again and his hand moved up, taking your jaw in his hand.

“Open your eyes, slut,” he growled. Your eyes fluttered open. The reflection in the mirror had changed. You were looking at yourself. Facing yourself with Hyunjin behind you, his red irises glowing in the dark and burning into yours.

His appearance in the mirror had changed slightly. Half of his blond hair was pulled up into a ponytail and two black horns were protruding from his forehead, curving back over his head and the tips curling inward on themselves. Your eyes widened. What the fuck were you seeing? Was this still a dream or was this real? The line between dream and reality had blurred and you couldn’t tell anymore.

“What are--” Hyunjin tightened his grip, holding your jaw in place. His sharp, pointed nails digging slightly into your skin. “Stop talking,” he growled. “Just lay there and take it like the whore you are.” Your walls clenched around his cock at the degrading name he hurled at you.

“Look at you,” he chuckled lowly. “So desperate to get fucked you’d let any man have you, isn’t that right?” he asked. ‘No,’ you thought. ‘That isn’t true.’ The truth was that you only wanted Felix. You only wanted your boyfriend. Even with this stranger fucking you in your dreams, you wanted Felix.

“No,” you answered, trying to shake your head but the demon’s grip was too strong. “I wasn’t asking you, slut,” he scoffed. You met his burning gaze in the mirror. ‘Not asking me?’ you wondered. ‘Who could he possibly be talking to?’ It was then you noticed something else just on the edge of the reflection.

A body sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. Your eyes widened. ‘Felix?’ It was indeed your boyfriend. His head hung in shame, wrists bound to the arms of the chair and his ankles likewise bound to the legs of the chair. “F-Fe-lix?” you stammered. At the sound of your voice, your boyfriend raised his head, eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

“No,” Hyunjin growled. With one final thrust, your eyes rolled back as your orgasm hit you. You felt Hyunjin tense on top of you, his own orgasm washing over him as he released inside you. You could feel the warm gush of cum enter your cunt and the stalling of Hyunjin’s hips as he buried his cock inside you before everything went black.

Felix woke with a start, sitting up and crying out.

It was morning. He looked around quickly, eyes scanning the room but he saw no sign of the demon Hyunjin nor did he see any sign of you. He glanced down and noticed he was naked. He looked around for his clothes.

‘What the fuck happened last night?’ he wondered as he turned, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he covered his face with his hands. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, not enough to hurt but enough that the blackness of his vision was littered with stars.

He finally pulled his hands from his face and sat up straight, inhaling deeply before letting it out. His clothes were on the floor beside the bed and he snatched them quickly, pulling on his sweats and then the shirt. He made his way over to the door, turning the knob and opening the door.

He was greeted by the sound of sizzling and the smell of bacon. He allowed his feet to carry him into the hall and to the top of the stairs where he heard soft voices and your light laughter. He hurried down the steps and turned around the railing to enter the living room.

In the kitchen, you stood at the range, cooking breakfast. You looked up, smiling as you met his gaze.

“Well good morning, sunshine,” you said as he stood in the doorway. “We have a visitor,” you continued, nodding towards a figure sitting at the table, hidden from Felix’s view with a newspaper. Felix murmured an apology as he walked into the kitchen, scratching the back of his head as he moved around the counter and over to where you stood, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Morning,” he murmured and moved to pour himself a cup of coffee, preparing it the way he liked before he sat at the table across from the figure. You moved to set a plate of food in front of Felix, a spatula in one hand and donning your pink apron.

“You didn’t tell me your cousin was coming to visit,” you said, lighting patting his shoulder as Felix picked up his fork. His eyes widened as you turned away and headed back into the kitchen. Felix turned his gaze from your figure to the newspaper before him. ‘I don’t have a cousin.’

You prepared another plate and walked over to set it in front of the guest. “Oh,” he said with a chuckle. “Thank you,” he added in an all too familiar voice.

A voice Felix thought had been part of the horrible nightmare he’d experienced.

He watched in horror as the newspaper lowered and the familiar face of Hyunjin appeared with a smile. “It’s just like Felix to forget to mention me,” he said as you moved back to load the last plate and take a seat between Felix and the demon now sitting at his dinner table, enjoying a breakfast cooked by you, his loving girlfriend.

How did you not recognize Hyunjin after last night? Did you forget everything? If the oblivious smile on your lips was anything to go by, Felix could assume you’d forgotten the events of last night.

“We had a rough night last night,” you said, turning your gaze on your boyfriend and smiling at him sweetly. “I hope he wasn’t too rough on you,” Hyunjin joked and Felix watched the way you inhaled a sip of your water and started coughing.

Before he could react, Felix watched with a mix of anger and jealousy as Hyunjin leaned forward and patted your back firmly, a look of concern crossing his features. “Are you alright, Y/N?” he asked. “I’m sorry,” he continued. “That was inappropriate of me.” You shook your head, taking another sip of water. “No, it’s okay,” you said, waving your hand.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Felix’s knuckles turned white, his grip on his fork handle tight as he tried to decide whether he should eat or stab Hyunjin in the neck. “I’m also sorry for dropping in like this,” Hyunjin explained. “Unannounced. It’s just that I’m passing through and haven't seen my dear cousin in so long.” Felix narrowed his eyes at the demon, wanting to smack that smug grin off his face.

You smiled kindly at Hyunjin. “Well you’re more than welcome to stay with us for a few days,” you offered and Felix felt his heart sink, his stomach dropping simultaneously as he looked from you to Hyunjin who was already looking at Felix. “That’s so kind of you,” Hyunjin replied, staring directly at Felix, his red irises burning into the latter’s eyes, holding his gaze.

“I think I’m really going to enjoy your hospitality.”

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

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silawastaken · 5 months

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Thinking about Chuuya- specifically in reference to school aus.

Because Chuuya is SMART okay. He is one of very few people who can keep up with Dazai's chaos, from a combination of knowing him for so long and also from just being smart himself. In stormbringer, Chuuya is shown to at least accurately estimate the answer to rather complex physics equations that cannot be done in your head. He does it anyway. He has an advantage in this where he himself needs to be very concious of gravity and its affects and how it works, and he also has years of first hand experience with how it works he can apply practically to the situation to make estimates easier based on prior knowledge and experience. However, the biggest detriment to that in Chuuya has probably never seen the inside of a school in his life.

It's reasonable to assume that he receives some form of education in the PM as a teen, especially given the fact he needs to work with numbers for running the jewel market. He runs that market with the most success it's hard in years if I recall correctly, while likely not knowing his seven times table. (In chuuya's defense- I don't know my seven times table either and I have a HISTORY with physics that is actually largely sunshine and rainbows so.)

but he does physics that people who've been in school for YEARS fuck up. Mentally.

So he's far from stupid.

However- I am a firm believer in the Chuuya doesn't preform well in school. Regularly a B or C student. He doesn't fail, but he's not scoring the marks he could be.

Because things aren't explained the way he needs them to be. He questions why things work the way they do, explores other possibilities to a point where he confuses himself over the material because school only ever covers a surface level explaination of how and why things work, and expect students to just get it.

When Chuuya does understand something, he UNDERSTANDS it. It becomes common knowledge to him, he can remember it and apply it well in classes, any grades or scores on in class work about the material is scored high. But the second he's under test or exam conditions, he just blanks. It's not the stress or pressure, because he works well under both. It's the lack of practicality to it. It's question after question with no running line he can use to tie everything together and get it the way he needs too. On top of this, he doesn't understand the questions, with nuance and implications his brain isn't wired to pick up on, taking questions literally in a way that costs him marks repeatedly.

If he was in a college or university, he would do so much better, even under test and exam conditions, but while in high school I think that environment just would not work out for him.

As I can make anything about skk, the countermeasure to Chuuya not understanding the way certain things are explained is that Dazai explains them better in a way that's understandable and fills any of the gaps in his knowledge that trip Chuuya up because it should be 'common sense'.

In my head the ada and pm have a joint study group held in Fukuzawa's classroom after school onnnnn... hm. Tuesdays. Because by then the topics for the week have been established, and they each should have had at least one of each class. They all work on their school stuff until everything is covered and then they just watch a movie on the board in the class because it shuts them up (totally not because Fukuzawa has just a little bit of a soft spot for the rowdy group of teens all pressed up against each other sitting on the floor on a random tuesday in early decemeber because none of them really want to go home and it's too cold to go anywhere else. It's not like they're causing trouble or being annoying- they're watching Barbie princess and the popstar for the third time this term.) and they're not causing any harm.

Chuuya isn't the only one who struggles like this, just maybe the one who does so the most, but he would be an incredible physicist, and through support from a few of the nicer teachers and his friends, I'm sure he'd find a way to do well anyway.

I do know he'd get to college and have a realisation like 'huh? learning is actually kind of enjoyable' and that'd be it. He'd become a certified genius. A gilmore girls extra, if you will.

anyway autistic + dyslexic Chuuya who stuggles in school agenda is real.

#silas yaps #bsd #ao3 fanfic #soukoku #bsd fanfic #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs #skk au #chuuya #chuuya nakahara

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thatgirlie-diaries · 11 months

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Academic tips that work for me

Hello girlies! This is a post that I have been delaying for like 2 weeks, but now it's time or me to post it. In this blog I will give you all the things I do to keep myself getting high grades and maintain the "intelligent" persona I have worked for since I started studying my college career and fortunately others see me this way now.

I do not study hevy or know a lot about studying methods, I am more into "smart work > hard work" kind of thing

My personal tips

This are my tips being an auditory person focused on being effortless

Understand your learning style: Are you visual? Auditory? Or kinesthetic? By knowing this you can apply studying methods that are efficient for you.

Pay attention to your classes!: I think the main reason I slay effortlessly my exams is because of this so I only need a quick study. You will be saving future time since your study sessions will be lighter because you will remember lots of the things.

Participate / Ask questions: It's easy, you will get points with your teachers as a great student, plus you will get your questions solved.

Put your on a place you can't see it so it doesn't distract you, for classes or when you need to study / get work done.

Study in a place when you feel comfortable, it can be at an cafe or at the library, even in your bedroom at a desk, what matters is that you feel comfortable and that you get the feel of "this is a place where I can study / do my assignments" and not feel lazy or uncomfortable by "x or y" reason. As a plus, keep your space clean and only with the necessary at sight.

Use music that doesn't distract you and you vibe with: Listen to music that doesn't have lyrics, but that's a basic by now. What I recommend you is to listen to music that you just vibe with to get your desired mood and motivation. In my case, I listen to videogame soundtracks since it makes me feel relaxed or to classical music because I fee like "that business girly", either way music helps me concentrate.

Romanticize your studies: This can mean different things to all of you reading this post, I am talking about making your academic journey fun and pleasing rather than streesing! Some ideas are having cute stationery, take cute notes, act like one of your fav academic characters, have study playlists, drinking coffee, go to the library or to cafes, dress cute for school, read, light candles, watch "study with me" videos and study vlogs, create a pinterest board, stablish academic goals, etc.

Do your homework when you have free time at school / college or do it as a first thing after your schedule, this will help you save time. Think about it, if you do it while having free time at school / college you don't need to do it at home. And if you need to do it at home, if done as the first thing, you will either way get so much free time and can focus on other tasks or activities freely.

Be organized: Have a bullet journal or use an app to keep track of your subjects and assignments. By this you will remember and keep in sight upcoming deadlines and events.

Take care of your academic relationships: I make sure that the people inside my circle of friends are girls (mainly, but boys too) who I feel comfortable, have fun with but also are similar to me in the sense that they take seriously her studies and are good teammates. Outside of them I also focus on other potential classmates that are intelligent and have similar values. There is no need to bother on the ones who don't attend classes, are irresponsable and don't even know what are they doing in the course.

Take care of yourself: Ask yourself? Will it be worth it while not sleeping enough, having a poor diet and exercise? By not letting yourself rest or have fun from time to time? By not practicing self-care? By not practicing any hobby or taking the time for your interests ? Please take care of yourself, girl, this is the lowest part of the pyramid. The reason to care is not only your wellbeing, but also because having a poor lifestyle can have bad effects for you that also affect your performance, and we won't like that.

Now go and slay your academic year / course! 𑄽𑄺ྀ

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mindfulstudyquest · 5 months

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❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗮 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗼𝘂𝘁; this is my personal way of coping with burnout, it may not work for you, but feel free to share in the comments the things that make you feel better when you feel this way ( blogger's note at the end of the post ).

𝟭. recognize the signs ( 🏳️ )

the moment of denial is over. i know, burnouts always come at the worst times when you have upcoming exams and a thousand things to do, but ignoring it won't get you anywhere, on the contrary, it will only prolong the worst, so recognizing and accepting the signs of burnout is the first step to getting out of it. if you don't end it, it'll end you, right? some common symptoms of burnout are exhaustion, excessive irritability, hormonal imbalances, change in appetite (too much or too little), sleep irregularities, increase in nervous tics.

𝟮. take time off ( 🫧 )

allow yourself to rest and recharge by taking a break from work or other stressors. depending on the severity of the burnout you may need an afternoon, or perhaps a couple of days to recover, it's not important, the important thing is that you reserve some deep rest that can really recharge you to start studying/working again. put off all non-essential tasks, put your phone on do not disturb mode and allow your brain to rest. if you have slept little in the previous days, taking a nap will not be bad.

𝟯. set boundaries + practice self care ( 🌱 )

establish clear boundaries between work and personal life to prevent burnout from reoccurring. prioritize activities that promote physical and mental well-being, such as exercise, meditation, and hobbies. i personally love taking care of my body doing beauty treatments that make me feel better about myself. i also deep clean my room and change my bedsheets, if it's true that the mess in our room is a reflection of the mess in our mind i can't see why it can't go both ways: removing the mess from my room is like cleaning my head from the stress in it.

𝟰. rearrange priorities ( 🐝 )

delegate everything you can delegate, you can't do everything alone and it's normal to seek support from colleagues and family. reorganize yourself so you have a plan to follow as soon as you recharge your batteries. ask yourself what led to burnout, was it the workload? in that case breaking it into smaller tasks could make it less onerous. maybe it was it's difficulty? maybe asking for help or using some time for additional research might work. in short, prepare a realistic scheme to follow to tackle the task.

𝟱. seek support ( ❣️ )

talk to friends, family, or a therapist about your feelings and experiences to gain perspective and emotional support.

𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 hi everyone, it's no secret that i've posted very little in the last week, but unfortunately i experienced a bad burnout that incapacitated me for a few days. family circumstances, academic stress and the arrival of spring have added up to take away the strength to do anything from me, but i'm here to recover and here is a simple guide that i always follow when i find myself in these situations. on the one hand i'm happy tho, it's my first burnout since i started university, eight months ago now, i remember that when i was in high school they were much more frequent and long, i feel i've become much more stable.

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writingwithciara · 8 months

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It's The Little Things ~Nico Hischier~

summary: y/n is unaware of how nico feels about her, until quinn brings it up

word count: 3.3k

pairing: nico hischier x reader

notes: nico is so precious and doesn't get as much love as he deserves ❣ so here you go nico girlies. hope you enjoy! [jealousy & some mention of sexual content at the end]

masterlist

y/n met quinn in the library at school. quinn was the only one there who didn’t judge y/n for constantly studying and trying to keep her grades up. he was also the only one who would stay and help her when the rest of her study group decided to ditch whatever they were working on to go to a party. no matter how many times she told him to go, he insisted on staying.

he became her best friend and she was his biggest supporter, on and off the ice. so when he was drafted to play for the vancouver canucks, they were both devastated. y/n still had a few years at school and couldn’t join him, but she was proud of him nonetheless. she promised to stay behind and look after luke when he decided to attend the university of michigan. and although she graduated the year before luke was drafted, she still stayed in town to keep him company.

when he was picked 4th overall for the new jersey devils, y/n went with him to newark where they found an apartment that was an affordable price for the both of them, with luke working off his hockey salary and y/n pitching in with whatever she could from her job as a waitress.

after almost a year of living together, they both decided that in order to save a little more money, that they would both move in with jack. and that was fine, for a while. but then the pandemic hit and they were spending too much time together. the boys started getting into more and more ridiculous arguments and it culminated with y/n deciding to find a new place to live. they all agreed that it was for the best, as it would save their friendship.

and it was convenient because their teammate nico was looking for a roommate. y/n didn’t know him very much but she moved in with him anyway.

3 years later, and nico was her favorite person. she felt bad for replacing quinn but he constantly assured her it was okay. he also tried to convince her that the main reason she preferred nico was because she had feelings for him, which she denied every chance she got because she truly did not have feelings for him. there was no reason she needed to have feelings for him.

until there was.

after quinn tried to convince her the last time, y/n started noticing all the little things nico did for her. he would bring her back her favorite snacks after practice and he would run her a bath when he knew she had worked a double shift. he would leave her surprise notes all over the place and he would send her motivational texts whenever he could. when he was on the road for away games, he would call her or facetime her whenever he had a chance & if he couldn’t, he would send her a text to check in.

he bought her flowers ‘just because’ & he made sure she got the best seats at any of the home games.

she may not have had feelings for him but it was starting to feel like he had them for her.

---

“so what did your boyfriend do for you today?” quinn chuckled as soon as y/n accepted his facetime request.

“he’s not my boyfriend, quinn. we're just roommates.” y/n rolled her eyes. “and he doesn’t do these things every day. just when i'm having a particularly tough day. well that’s how it used to be. but lately, it’s been happening more and more. i'm starting to think that nico might have feelings for me.”

“yeah, probably. he asked luke about you when you guys met but luke didn’t give him the information he wanted.”

“what did he ask about?”

“he wanted to know what your status was. if you were seeing someone or not. but luke wouldn’t tell him.”

“if luke knew all of this, why did he and jack think it would be a good idea to live with him?” y/n set her phone down and looked at the apartment door. nico was supposed to be home shortly and she wanted to make sure he didn’t hear any part of the conversation.

“because they’re idiots, obviously. maybe they were hoping you guys would get together by now but it doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen any time soon.”

“he’s my best friend.”

“ouch.”

“okay he’s my alternate best friend.” y/n smiled. “what do you think of me being with nico?”

“i honestly think you guys are good for each other. it's like you’re each others missing piece or something.”

“quinn, i obviously love him. but it’s not like that. maybe we are soulmates, but i believe it’s only on a platonic level.”

“call it what you want but i do know that your dynamic with him is way different than your dynamic with me.”

“how so?”

“he does things for you and i just don’t.” quinn chuckled.

“that’s because you just suck, hughes.” y/n smiled. she heard the door open but before she could hang up, nico appeared behind her.

“hey quinn.” he waved and then turned to the table behind him, producing a fast food bag.

“i'll talk to you later. bye huggy bear.” y/n quickly hung up and turned to face nico. “what’s the occasion?”

“nothing special. just thought you’d be hungry & i know you haven’t had a good burger in a while so i stopped by that diner you love and got you a burger and some fries. oh and one of those specialty milkshakes and a slice of cheesecake for desert.”

“it’s from tops?”

“yes ma’am.” he smiled, knowing he had just made her day.

“you are the best roommate ever, nico!” y/n threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“i know.” he hugged her back just as tightly and was reluctant to let go but he knew he had to let go eventually so she could eat.

that was the night that y/n started seeing nico differently. she stopped seeing him through her ‘platonic glasses’ and started seeing him with the ‘heart glasses’. there was no way she could tell quinn though.

the next few nights were lonely since nico had to go to a handful of away games. the apartment was empty, quiet and it lacked nico’s presence. y/n couldn’t stand it.

just as she walked into his room to look for his favorite sweater, her phone rang in her pocket. she picked it up and immediately answered when she saw his request for a facetime.

“hey. how's the trip?”

“it’s nice. we won last night’s game.”

“i know. congrats on the goal, by the way. i screamed so loud when it happened and i think our neighbors hate me.”

“that’s impossible.” he smiled. “nobody could hate you.”

“miranda might.” y/n heard jack say somewhere in the background.

“who’s miranda?”

“she’s a girlfriend of one of the guys. she's not very big on any of the single players hanging out with a girl. she doesn’t believe that a guy and a girl can be just friends.” nico chuckled, suddenly seeming tense. “i gotta go but it was nice to see your face, love. i'll call you tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“okay. good luck tomorrow.” she smiled and when nico ended the call, she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. something about the call seemed a little off and she needed to get down to the bottom of it.

it was another few days before y/n heard from nico. she sent him a bunch of congratulatory texts after the team won 3 games in a row, with nico scoring at least once in all of them. she even tried calling him but it went straight to voicemail every time.

on the night the devils were set to be back at home, y/n got ready in her custom hischier jersey and the coat he got her for her birthday. luke called her just as she was about to leave.

“hey lukey boy. what's up?”

“just excited to see you. i miss you.”

“awe. well i miss you too.” y/n smiled. “can you put nico on?”

“i would love to but i have no idea where he is right now.”

“okay. just, um, let him know i called and wished him luck tonight.”

“are you coming to the game?”

“of course.” she smiled again. it was hard not to smile with luke. he was sunshine. “gotta cheer on my 2 favorite players in the league.”

“hey, i heard that!” jack shouted from behind the camera. he suddenly appeared but he had a smile on his face, meaning her comment didn’t offend him. “i'm sure quinn wouldn’t be too happy to hear that either.”

“i can have more than 1 favorite player, jack.” she shook her head. “but seriously. good luck to all of you tonight. can't wait to cheer you guys on.”

“can’t wait to see you.” jack waved goodbye before disappearing off camera. luke just chuckled and looked back at his phone.

“we gotta go. see you shortly?”

“you bet. bye luke.” y/n hung up and grabbed her keys. the arena wasn’t far and the weather outside was nice so she decided to walk to the game.

when she got to the arena, she showed her id to security and they let her in, shielding her from fans. she made her way to her reserved seat and noticed a brunette sitting in the seat beside hers. the girl looked up at her and smiled.

“hi. i'm miranda.” she held her had out and y/n shook it before taking the seat next to her. “are you here for luke?”

“no. well, yes. but not just luke.” she watched as the players began skating out onto the ice to practice. she waved to luke and jack as they passed by the glass.

“oh. are you jack’s girlfriend then?”

“what? no. just a former roommate and really good friend of some of the team.”

“oh. that’s awesome.”

“who are you here for?”

“my boyfriend is on the team.” miranda watched the players until she found the one she came to see. y/n watched as the all too familiar 13 skated by them. he waved to miranda and caught y/n’s eye before looking down and skating to where jack and luke were. “that’s him. isn’t he so cute?”

“yeah. totally.” y/n watched as nico kept glancing up at the 2 of them.

down on the ice, luke noticed nico’s change in attitude. “dude, what is going on with you lately? first you ignore y/n for days with no explanation then you have your girlfriend attend the game, knowing full well that y/n would be here & also knowing that miranda doesn’t like her already.”

“she’s not my girlfriend, luke. just a fling.”

“a fling for what? what’s the point of breaking 3 hearts at once?”

“you know why i need this.” he glanced over to the stands and only saw miranda. she smiled at him and blew him a kiss but he just waved back. “what do you mean 3 hearts? the only hearts that are going to be breaking are mine and miranda’s.”

“in case you haven’t noticed, y/n has feelings for you. i can guarantee you’re breaking her heart and making it worse by ignoring her and keeping secrets from her.”

“yeah right, luke. there’s no way. y/n and i are just roommates. she's made that point about a billion times.”

“believe what you want, but we have a game to win, nico.” luke skated over to the bench while nico took his spot on the ice. he constantly looked over at the stands to see if y/n was there. she was but he noticed she was wearing a different jersey than the one she arrived in.

after seeing nico interact with miranda, even if it was brief, y/n suddenly felt wrong for wearing his jersey number while sitting next to his girlfriend. so she went and bought a 43 jersey instead and quickly changed into that, shoving the hischier one into her bag. when she returned to her seat, miranda looked at her.

“cute jersey.”

“thanks.”

at the end of the 2nd period, the devils were up by 2 and they were playing really well. y/n looked down as jack and luke looked up at her. nico waved to her but before she could wave back, miranda was waving instead. nico smiled and looked at his teammates. y/n pulled out her phone and pretended she was just checking her messages.

“hey, i gotta head out. can you tell nico that something came up and that i'm sorry & i'll see him when he gets home?”

“yeah of course. it was nice meeting you.” miranda and y/n waved goodbye to each other as y/n left the building. the air was a lot cooler than it was when she walked to the arena. thank god her coat was able to keep her warm.

she walked into the apartment and quickly turned the game on. the game was almost over and the devils were now down by 2. y/n suddenly felt bad for leaving, having been told by jack, luke & nico that she was their good luck charm. but nothing could make her stay at the game.

when the final buzzer went off, signaling the devils had lost, y/n clicked the tv off and headed to her room to change. she would normally do something to comfort nico after a loss but she figured that since he had miranda now, he wouldn’t need her to do anything to cheer him up.

about an hour later, y/n was in her room when she heard the door slam shut. rapid footsteps could be heard in the hallway before they stopped outside her bedroom door. y/n knew it was nico just by the gentle knock.

“come in.” she set her book down and sat up straight as nico walked in.

“why did you leave?”

“it didn’t feel right being there. your girlfriend doesn’t like me and even though she was being nice, i could tell it was fake.”

“so you left? since when has one person not liking you ever stopped you from doing something?”

“when the person is dating my best friend & doesn’t like me, that’s where i have to draw the boundary line, nico. keep my distance as much as possible to convince her there’s nothing going on between us.”

“she’s not convinced at all. she yelled at me after the game because she didn’t get the right vibe from you. she also asked me to ask you to move out.”

“you’re joking right? unbelievable. un-fucking-believable.” y/n got off her bed and grabbed a bag.

“what are you doing?” nico approached her and tried to slow her down but she kept throwing clothes into the suitcase.

“what does it look like i'm doing? i'm giving you space so you can keep miranda. in the meantime, i'll just stay with luke and jack. no big deal.”

“yes. very big deal.” nico grabbed her wrist gently and halted her movement. she dropped the tshirt she was holding and looked at him. “i don’t want to be with miranda. i made sure to tell her after the game & that’s when she yelled at me. assumed it was because of my commitment to you.”

“there’s no commitment. we're just roommates, nico.” y/n went to grab the packed bag but nico stood in her way.

“before you go, i need to ask you something.”

“what?”

“do you really believe we’re just roommates? or do you feel a connection too?”

“no idea what you’re talking about.” she went to move around him but he held her in place by placing his hands gently on her shoulders.

“why is this so difficult for you to grasp, y/n?!”

“what are you talking about?” y/n sighed.

“i’m talking about the fact that i have been in love with you for the last 2 years and i thought i was making it obvious when i would do all those things for you. like, what type of roommate buys flowers for the other person for absolutely no reason? what type of person leaves notes for his roommate to find? what kind of guy would draw a bath for his roommate after she got home from a double shift? what kind of person would drop a significant other if they even said one bad thing about their roommate? a person who has no idea how to express his feelings with words, that’s who. i am that type of person, y/n & i need you to believe me.”

“why couldn’t you just come out and tell me how you felt, nico?”

“i told you. i’m not good at using my words when it comes to feelings. but i like you. i like you a lot. and admittedly, using miranda as a way to get over you was the stupidest thing i've ever done because it didn’t work.” he looked down at y/n and sighed. “earlier at the game, i think i felt my heart break like 4 times.”

“what do you mean?”

“well, the first time my heart broke was when i saw you looking upset when you met miranda. the second time was when i saw you had changed out of your hischier jersey and into a luke jersey. made me feel like crap for some reason. the third time my heart broke was when luke scored, you cheered louder than anyone but when i scored, you didn’t get as excited. and the fourth time was when the team lost. i looked up at the stands to see your reaction, only to find that you had left. you never leave the games and when miranda told me you were gone, i got upset and she yelled at me for caring more about he fact that you were gone more than the fact that she was there.” nico reached for y/n’s hand and sighed. “i am so sorry for everything, y/n. miranda meant nothing to me because whenever i was with her, i was thinking of you.”

“i love you, nico. and i’m sorry for not noticing the underlying reason behind all the things you did for me. i thought it was just what a good roommate would do. and i didn’t do anything for you. which i now realize makes me a terrible roommate.”

“you’re not a terrible roommate, y/n.” nico placed his hand on her cheek and smiled. “you’re always there for me when i need you & you always do something to cheer me up if my team loses. you're the best roommate, whether you believe it or not.”

“but you lost tonight and i didn’t do anything for you.”

“you just being here is enough, trust me.” his eyes flicked down to her lips before traveling back to meet her gaze. he didn’t waste anymore time. nico closed the gap and placed his lips firmly on hers. y/n kissed back quickly and pulled him closer.

as the kiss deepened, all of their jealousy was swept away.

nico placed his hands on her waist gently as he laid her down against her mattress. he hovered above her and she tangled her hands in his hair, biting his bottom lip in the process.

his grip on her waist tightened and a low groan came from his mouth as she gently tugged on his hair.

“how do you always look so hot after a game?” y/n asked as she broke the kiss to take a breath.

“only after a game?” he raised his eyebrow.

“oh shut up.” she smirked and pulled him back in. she flipped them over so she was straddling him and nico gazed up at her with he most amount of love he has ever had. or was it lust this time? he didn’t care as he pulled her down for a night neither of them would never forget.

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taglist: @worldlxvlys @heavenlyhischier @chrisloyalgf @lhughes43 @ijustreallylovethem @captainboomaray @eberles

#nico hischier #new jersey devils #nico hischier imagine #nico hischer x reader #nhl #hockey player fic #nico hischier fic

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