#the miracle of sound in motion

[spilladabalia]

Steel Pole Bath Tub - Down All The Days (Pogues cover) (django kill)

[hoshigray]

But like…sugar daddy!Nanami bending you over his pool table and just fucking your brains out🙈‼️

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: missed writing for nanami, let's gooo!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: sugar daddy! Nanami x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - sex on a pool table - finger sucking - lingerie - breast fondling + nipple play - standing (bent over) position - praise - Daddy kink - pet names (baby, good girl, honey, love, sweetheart, sweetpea) - protected sex (bc he's a gentleman, lol) - mention of drool/spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

“—Mmmph! Ohhh…Kent—Oooh!”

“Yes, baby…God, you look so good.”

“Your fingers; you’re going too…Mmmm…”

Being a sugar baby is a blessing in its own way. Not having to worry so much about your financial situations as they’re taken care of in your day-to-day life can be a bit overwhelming to comprehend in the days you forget entirely; however, you can’t lie that it’s not a nice lifestyle to live in. All your money troubles no longer being a constant weight on your shoulders, moved aside for you to enjoy your life as freely as you wish compared to before.

And what’s better is that the man taking care of said troubles was indeed a miracle worker — and quite the looker. Nanami Kento, your sugar daddy, took you in when you put your online advertisement looking for a sugar daddy, and you can only thank the stars above for such a wonderful man to come falling from the heavens above to put your mind at ease.

And trust and believe that he’s done so in ways more than one.

He had you bent by his pool table in the living space of his penthouse, your legs spread for him to have your skirt lifted to your waist. It’s easier for his hand to go to your lacy panties and slide his fingers in to meet your folds. And after a few minutes, he’s already made you a complete mess just by the thickness of his digits. 

You squirm, gripping the billard stick that rests on the velvety skin of the pool table. “Hahhhn, ohooo, stoop, don’t rub there—Hic…!” Your hands grip the shoulder of his work shirt.

“Oh? Don’t like it when I do…this?” The blunt of Nanami’s fingertips scrapes the upper wall of your vaginal walls with a curled motion, and you lament with the jerk of your thighs. “But all I’m doing is rewarding my baby.”

His reward was specifically targeted to what you were wearing. Your opened buttoned-up shirt exposed your recent purchase of a new lingerie set; the complex design of the intimate clothing and the bold hue of the color–your favorite color–complimented your skin enchantingly. The blonde man behind you couldn’t keep his eyes and hands off you the moment you meekly showed off the bra of the set. 

“And judging by how tight you’re squeezing my fingers,” he says to your ear while another graze of your inner walls has you arch towards him. “You seem to love this, right, honey?” His free hand was groping one of your breasts; the material of the laced bra felt pleasant to the touch along the squish of your mound.

“Hoooh, ohhGod, Kento, please,” you were a whimpering mess literally in the palm of his hand; he’d made you come once already, so your insides had yet to subside from the acute height that kept you trembling to his touch. “I caan’t, no moooore…If you keep up, I-I’ll—“

“What?” He kisses your cheek, nearly having you give to your knees. “Don’t wanna cum on my fingers?” You shook your head hurriedly, enticing your neck for him to lay more gentle kisses. “What do you wanna cum on then, sweetpea?”

You use your hips to answer, grinding your wet southern lips on the zipper of his expensive, linen dress trousers. Yet, while he returns the motion with synced ruts to your chasm with the tent of his groin, it’s safe to say he doesn’t mind the mess. 

“This,” you moan with more rubs on his pants. “I wanna cum on you, Kent. Please, lemme cum on you…”

The sound of his chuckle has you twitching on his digits, wailing when he stretches your opening with a scissoring motion. “Good girl, asking so nicely…” With a hum, he withdraws his fingers from your warmth and brings your pricy underwear down to your thighs, brushing its garters. After bringing his trousers down and freeing his erection from his briefs, he grabs for the condom from his pocket to release from its wrapper. Once the rubber is on and fitted, Nanami guides his cock to the hole of your vagina. 

The insertion of the cockhead has you gasping sharply, the cue stick in your grasp being the only thing you can use as security as your sugar daddy pushes every inch of his shaft inside you. You could never get used to the girth, the stretch of his limb so euphorically good, and the graze of the tip on the sensitive itches that make you hiccup. And the hilt of his pelvis meets your folds, sighing now that his entire cock is finally one with you.

He rocks back and forth leisurely, careful not to have you released on him just yet. Both his hands now meet your chest, fondling the flesh of your breasts in such a loving fashion that you whimper with the pull of his dick. God, the way his tip perfectly rubs on your inner texture has your brows furrowed and eyes sewn shut, wanting to truly indulge in the sensation that piques the delicate keenness of your nerves.

“Ahaaa, ohoofuck,” you jolt when he suddenly throws a rough thrust to your ass; the stick in your hand hits two Aramith billiard balls to the long rails of the table. “Yesss, right there, Kentoo…! Feel so good…”

“Yeah, honey?” The weight of him on your back as he bends his frame above yours, speaking softly to your ear as if wanting you to shiver on his chest. “Feeling good?” You nod hurriedly with the tweak of your nipples under the rough pads of his fingers. “All cute and good for me…Want me to make you feel even more good?”

“Yes…Daddy,” Oh my, you used the title—a step you were cautious to use at the moment yet albeit eager for the results. And the sand-haired man snaps his hips abruptly, causing a shriek to sneak past you without noticing.

He’s done with the slow pacing—the rhythm now increased to a rapid cadence that evokes more sounds to escape with every rock of your figure. Gosh, you hope you weren’t leaving scratch marks on this man’s pool table. It would make you feel terrible damaging his property. However, that sounds like a worry to check back later when you’re not squealing your mind out.

“—Oooh!! F–fffshiiiit, Daddy!” Your eyes roll up at the scrape of your G-spot. “N–Not shoo fa—Ahhhh! T’oo muuch…!”

“But you’re too close to slow down, love,” Nanami kisses your cheek before slithering his hand to stuff his fore and middle fingers into your mouth. You sounded too cute mewing for him while sucking on his fingers. And it doesn’t help that the erratic ruts to your cunt have you shrilling even more, drool trickling down to your chin just to fall on the table surface. “Come on, sweetpea, let it all out…Hnnmm, let me feel it.”

The piston of his pelvis smacking the skin of your ass with the thick digits stuffed in your mouth is too much to follow through, the climb of your climax becoming more complicated to avoid as the milliseconds rush away. You submit to your growing dizziness as your peak shakes you down.

The orgasm has you screaming out loud, your legs trembling with the flutter of your walls around Nanami’s dick while he slowly plunges himself in and outward, relishing the snugness of your slit. You suck on his fingers hard, nearly choking on spit when your body is experiencing the pulses at its own pace. Your elbows wobble, giving way for you to slump down and accidentally hit an object ball with the cue stick, knocking onto another and pushing it an inch away from a pocket.

Nanami chortles, straightening himself to massage your waist through your aftershocks. “Nice backspin, sweetheart.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Ryomen Sukuna getting on his knees for his wife

Pairing: Sukuna x wife!reader

Word Count: 1,2k

Synopsis: For more than 500 years, you waited for your husband's return. When he finally shows himself again in Shibuya, he can't help but worship his wife the way she deserves it

Warnings: no smut but this is a tease y'all, language, violence, Jogo (lmao), this is just Sukuna hehe

You can’t help but smile to yourself, the intoxicating smell of death and agony filling you with nothing but joy. Oh, how much you long to finally see your husband again, to feel his arms wrapped around your body. How long has it been since you’ve last seen him? A few hundred years, maybe more. They were too keen to keep him from finding a new vessel, to come back into your open arms. But you’ve waited.

A huff escapes your lips. And now is finally the time to greet him again.

Without gifting them a single look, you walk past all those disgusting humans begging for their lives, the floor plastered in crimson. Is he responsible for this?

“Such a mess”, you mutter to yourself, a shiver of excitement running down your spine.

It has to be him, without any doubt. When you heard about his awakening, felt the fear that ran through the jujutsu community, you knew it was Sukuna. Good that brat decided to swallow his fingers you preserved so carefully for this exact moment.

You stroll into the train station of Shibuya that radiates so much unpromising energy that it’s hard to keep your cool composure. Where is he? What is he doing? Surely, he has a masterplan in his head already. But where is he?

“You.”

With a swift motion, you pin the strongest curse nearby against a wall, staring right into his widen eye.

You. Jogo has no idea who you are and where you came from. But he didn’t feel your presence until know, wasn’t even able to see you with your movements being so fast. Are you a special grade curse?

No, you have to be way above that level – way above him.

“Who are you?”

“You’re not in the position to ask questions. Where’s Sukuna?”

That threatening tone in your voice along with the sheer power you radiate. You…You…

Are you the queen of curses, Sukuna’s wife?

“I’m…I’m searching for him as well.”

It’s a miracle Jogo was able to press out a response, given the way your eyes are darted towards him. There were always rumours about your existence, that the king of curses himself has in fact a wife. But no one ever saw you, no one really believes that someone like him would fall for something pathetic like love.

“Then go ahead. I’m waiting.”

But oh he does. Your sheer presence is proof alone. His feet carry him down the hallways of Shibuya train station by themselves, the frightening sound of your sky-high heels against the floor sending shivers down his spine in waterfalls. One wrong movement, one unthoughtful word, one change of mind and he’s dead. Wiped from this earth forever with a swift motion of your little finger.

“Why are you searching for him, curse?”

Jogo swallows hard, thick fear running through his veins. What is he supposed to do? Lying? No, the chance of you knowing immediately is too high. He can’t afford your resentment.

“I would like to ask him to fight on our side.”

A cruel laughter escapes your lips before he even finished his sentence, cold eyes glaring at the back of his head.

“Listen sweetheart, Sukuna doesn’t do things like favours. But you know what? If you manage to find him, I’ll talk to him about this. After all, you’re here to kill these jujutsu sorcerers, right?”

He doesn’t reply when it hits you with full force. The stinging presence you missed so much these last decades, the unpromising change in the air. You and the curse in front of you stop in your tracks at the same time, eyes darting towards two girls who kneel on the ground.

Above a pink-haired boy, feeding him fingers.

His fingers.

Finally.

“Get away from my husband, girls. He’s already taken.”

A little movement of your fingers is enough to shoot them right into the next wall while you make your way to the puny figure leaning against the wall.

“Take care of them, curse. I need to look after my husband.”

Your usual composed heart almost beats out of your chest when you come near him, the power vibrating through his body becoming stronger and stronger every second. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for.

“Wake up, Mr. Drama. Your wife missed you”, you purr while placing your hand around his delicate neck.

Oh, the way his blood pumps through his veins, the feeling of his useless heartbeat against your tingling fingertips.

“I’m getting impatient, Sukuna.”

Your nails dig into his tender flesh until a trail of blood runs down his neck.

“So impatient…”

Suddenly, you find yourself pressed against the wall Sukuna was laying against just a moment ago, a hand wrapped around your neck.

And then you meet his eyes. The stone-cold red eyes that already caused so much pain, eyes that make every human cry out in sheer panic.

The eyes you longed for every lonely night.

“But I will forgive you. After all, I was gone for quite some time. Right, princess?”

“I’m not your princess”, you mumble against the force of his hand.

Your wrap your longing arms around his neck, pull him even closer, let him choke you even harder. Oh, you want to swallow him whole, want to feel him as close as possible. With a swift motion, you tear away the fabric that hides his upper body from your gaze.

“I’m your queen.”

Sukuna doesn’t waste another minute. His lips find yours. Longingly, passionate, so intense that you threaten to lose balance. His tongue re-discovers your mouth all over again, teeth nibbling on your lips so roughly that blood spills.

“Oh, how much I missed you”, he mumbles against your lips.

His hands roam around your body, hold your waist in place while he gets lost against your intoxicating mouth. The mouth he thought about all this time, the mouth that is capable of doing way more than talking.

“How much I longed to see you again.”

The king of curses gets on his knees, presses his head against your belly, cups your butt with his needy hands.

“Let me worship every inch of your body.”

“Just like you should for keeping me waiting”, you breathe out, a satisfied smile decorating your puffy lips.

“I will make it up to you, darling. When I’m done here, I’m all yours again”, he promises with low voice, still kneeling in front of you.

The world around you goes silent, both girls and Jogo staring at the scene in front of them in sheer disbelief. Is this the king of curses, kneeling in front of a woman and apologizing? This is absolutely impossible, almost absurd.

“You’re always mine, Sukuna”, you reply before pulling him up and getting a taste of him all over again.

“But before that, we should kill everyone around here, am I right?”

His breath caresses your cheek in sheer excitement, eyes soaking you up.

“That’s my wife.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee  @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

[loveinhawkins]

gently prise the feeling out

ao3 Written for @steddie-week Day 2 prompt, “hands.”

It’s the movement that catches Steve’s eye: Eddie’s hands flexing gingerly as they walk through the woods.

At first Steve dismisses it as a nervous habit—honestly, he’d say Eddie’s holding up pretty well for someone who recently swam into an alternate dimension—but then his flashlight illuminates the side of Eddie’s face at just the right moment, and he sees the clenched jaw of discomfort.

“Are you hurt?”

Surprisingly, Eddie doesn’t look like he’s been found out; he just looks puzzled. “Uh, no?”

“Your hands,” Steve clarifies. “You keep…” With his free hand, he imitates the motion.

“Oh,” Eddie says. “I didn’t know I was—it’s nothing, man, really, just—” He laughs slightly. “Was swinging the oar around, managed to hit a bat—Jesus Christ, those fuckers are heavy. Honestly, it’s, uh, kind of a miracle I hit it at all, d’you remember how shit I was at baseball?”

“You weren’t that bad,” Steve says—vaguely recalls the days of shared phys ed and thinks, you were just left-handed, and no-one threw the ball at you properly.

Eddie’s lips twitch into a smile. “You’re very generous, Harrington,” he says; the words sound like they’re placed somewhere in between teasing and genuine. As he speaks, he subtly shakes his hands out.

Steve angles the flashlight down to them. “Lemme see.”

Eddie blinks. “You’re kidding.”

Steve stands his ground, just raises an eyebrow expectantly. Robin and Nancy aren’t that far ahead; they’ll catch up again in no time.

Eddie shakes his head in disbelief. Scoffs. “Um, I think I’ll live, Steve. I can’t believe you’re even—like, you’re—” He gestures wildly, and it takes Steve a second to realise that he’s referring to the bat bites.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Steve says with practised confidence; right now, he doesn’t have time to be anything else.

“Then I’m fine, too.”

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes; he doesn’t want to be locked in a stalemate out of their mutual stubbornness.

“Dude, I could’ve already looked by now.”

Eddie actually rolls his eyes at that. He turns his hands over quickly, darting in and out of the flashlight’s beam like he’s saying ta-da!

“Wow,” Steve says in mock astonishment. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you were five.” He makes a beckoning gesture, like an impatient teacher waiting for homework.

Eddie smirks as if he’s trying not to laugh outright. And then he joins in on the act, too, stomping over with theatrical reluctance.

“Watch the vines,” Steve says, amused.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says, “that’d be a real stupid way to go.” He stops right in front of Steve—and this time, he shows his hands properly: cupped together, arms outstretched.

“Can you just—need ‘em a little more—” Instinctively, Steve puts a hand underneath Eddie’s, gently pushes them up, further into the light. “Yeah, there.”

Eddie’s skin is cold to the touch; it reminds him of how Robin’s hands had felt the night of Starcourt and, less distressingly, whenever she’s nervous before a practical music exam.

He moves the flashlight back and forth in assessment. It doesn’t seem like anything’s swollen—he remembers the ache of his own hand that night in ‘83: the erratic pulse of Christmas lights as if they were possessed; the crack of the baseball bat; Jonathan and Nancy’s screams.

But what the flashlight does expose is…

“Ouch,” Steve says sincerely.

Eddie’s hands are embedded with splinters.

Eddie shakes his head again. He nods at the bandage across Steve’s middle. “C’mon, man, I don’t—these aren’t exactly war wounds.”

Steve decides not to fight him on it. Opts for a lighter touch, “No more oars for you.”

Eddie chuckles the tiniest bit. It’s a sad sound.

“Yeah, that’s not—they’re from Rick’s. The, um, the boat, y’know? I…” Eddie bites his lip. “It’s kinda… fuzzy, but I’d fall asleep in there, like just for a second, and then I guess I’d—” His fingers twitch above Steve’s palm. “Panic.”

Steve can picture it: Eddie starting awake, hands scrambling across the rough wood, as if in desperation for it all to be a nightmare; that maybe if he kept searching the splinters would melt away, transform into the softness of bedsheets.

“Remind me later,” Steve says, and he pats the unmarked skin of Eddie’s knuckles in reassurance. Keeps his touch there so he’s still partially holding Eddie’s hands up. “I’ll get them out with a pin, I’m good at…” He falters at Eddie’s silence. “I’ll be careful,” he says—it feels important, suddenly, that Eddie should know.

Eddie looks at him. The reflection of the flashlight’s glow flickers in his eyes.

“Yeah, I know,” he says softly.

One of his hands tilts ever so slightly, fingertips brushing against Steve’s palm. Then he steps back, hands falling down to his sides.

Steve resumes illuminating the forest floor. They walk on, and in the quiet, the air feels different, changed—for the better, Steve hopes: like something tender’s been exposed to the surface.

[spideyriki]

oh man if u could so sub hybrid!hee or jake i’d love u forever … ur kitty jungwon one was so good !!! looking forward to more stuff from ur blog :D

puppy boy!

pairings: sub!jake x dom!reader

c. warnings: hybrid puppy!jake, mommy kink, pegging, drooling, collars, finger sucking + lmk if i missed anything!

w. count: 1.3k+

a. note: i'm so so sorry, anon, for how long overdue this was :(( i hope you like it tho, feedback n reblogs r always appreciated <3

it was late in the night and you were still busy doing your assignments, jake had supposedly gone off to bed hours ago.

"mommy", jake's small voice called out to you, snapping you out of work trance. you hum out confused as you turn around and see jake looking at you, an adorable pout adorning his face and his pretty pink collar still securely around his neck.

"what's wrong, jakey?",

jake's big puppy eyes looked nearly on the verge of tears, his puppy ears laying flat on his disheveled hair. unable to resist, you open your arms to invite jake to sit on your lap. in an istant, jake planted himself on your lap, the sound of his little bell from his collar jingling at how quickly he ran into your lap. despite his tired face, his tail wagged happily as your hand gently ran up and down the small of his back and his face burried in my neck.

"hurts, mommy...", jake whined out quietly.

"what hurts, pup?" you ask, concerned. jake's face flushed and he hid deeper in your neck, as his little puppy ears twitched. jake's hand gently holds your wrist, shyly guiding it down to his crotch and oh.

it was a miracle how you hadn't noticed how hard jake was earlier when he walked into your office, considering the large bulge his pajama shorts were barely covering. you coo at jake before your wrist palmed his covered erection, moving in small circular motions. at your teasing touch, jake lets out a pitiful whimper, subconsciously bucking his hips up into your touch.

"mommy, please fuck me...", jake's pout deepened as he continued grinding into your palm, his tongue mouthing your neck, letting his saliva coat your skin as a purple mark forms there for him to admire after.

you let him continue his ministrations for awhile longer until you notice his hips desperately bucking up into your palm and his hands travelled all over your body until he finally reaches up to squeeze your breast, a whine is ripped out of him as jake feels his orgasm approaching.

"i've barely done anything puppy and you're already such a mess", you taunt.

jake's cheeks flushed a red hue, his drool sliding down your neck, unshed tears brimming at his big puppy eyes and at some point, jake's hips had changed into a humping motion, trying to chase as much friction as possible.

at all the tell tale signs of his impending orgasm, you pull your hand away from his clothed dick, depriving him of his much needed release.

"mommy!", jake cries out. his eyes that were previously closed shut, jutting open to look at up at you as tears threaten to fall.

you quickly shush him and rub up and down his back in an attempt to soothe your puppy. your fingers reach to pull down his pajama pants, jake lifting his hips to help ease you. as the garment is removed, his throbbing cock jumps out, smacking his stomach. his tip an angry red as precum glistened on his slit, a drop of precum gathers and falls down the side of his long length, down a prominent vein. jake bites his lip as your thumb swipes at his slit, gathering his precum on it before bringing it up to your lips to wrap your tongue around the digit, humming out slightly at his taste, your beautiful eyes never once leaving his.

as you release your thumb, you usher jake off your lap. another sad whimper exits your puppy at the loss of your close proximity.

"take off your clothes, pup", you instruct jake as to which he quickly obeys. while jake, hurriedly strips himself, you clear your desk and reach in the drawer drawer to pull out jake's favourite strap.

by the time you turn back to face jake, he's completely nude. his pretty cock standing proud against his stomach, hard and aching. a small smile etches onto your face at jake's eagerness, his tail continuing to wag happily.

your fingers tap the desk once, immediately jake is bent over your desk, his back arched and resting on his forearms, just as you've trained him to.

reaching up, you ruffle his hair, "good boy, jakey", you praise, his ears perking up at the praise as he mumbles a shy thank you.

your hands roam all over his body, stroking from his shoulders to his slim waist before finally reaching his ass. gently you squeeze and massage his cheeks, rubbing the skin softly before your finger circles around his tight hole which flutters around nothing.

slowly, you push a finger in. his hole practically swallowing your digit. gently you gradually add more fingers into jake to stretch him out. as you begin to thrust your fingers into him slowly, jake whines out, rolling his hips back against your fingers.

"mommy, puppy's already streched for you."

a small chuckle leaves you at his desperation. pulling out your fingers, you spit into your hand to lube up your strap.

once you deem your strap ready, your hands circle around jake's slender waist before pushing your large cock into his hole. a moan is ripped out of jake's throat as he feels you deep in him, his body and chest flushing. your body stilled as you waited for jake to adjust to your girth, not even a minute later jake's hips begin to move against you.

your fingers stroke his waist soothingly, as you admire the way his delicate hips move languidly along your cock, struggling to take in your full length. his ass cheeks jump at each of his own thrusts, desperate to feel all of you in him.

"you can go faster than this, can't you puppy?", you coo encouragingly at jake.

multiple whimpers resonate throughout the room as you watch him do all the work himself, his movements fastening.

finally taking pity on jake, you finally begin to thrust into jake. the tip of your cock hitting directly into his prostate, jake lets out a loud cry at the overwhelming pleasure.

your poor baby is a mess by now, big pretty tears rolling down his pink cheeks, a mantra of moans and 'mommy' leaving him. tongue lolling out of his mouth drooling all over himself and your desk as he pants.

"look at the mess your making, baby", reaching forward you shove two fingers into jake's mouth to which he immediately sucks on, gagging slightly as they reach the back of his throat.

at the new angle, your cock reaches into his hole deeper, repeatedly abusing his prostate. despite your fingers in his mouth, it does little to stop your puppy from drooling, his saliva rolling down your arm. muffled moans and whines alongside your groans and the sound of your skin against jake's rings through the room.

jake's throbbing cock hangs heavily between his thighs, droplets of precum falling onto your wooden floors at your hard and deep thrusts. your other finger, reaches up to pinch at his pink nipples, jake mewls around your fingers at the pleasure. more tears are streaming down his pretty face, his mind is only filled with the thoughts of you as you fuck him dumb.

his hands gently pull at your wrist, "mommy please, need to cum!", he hurries out before sucking on your digits once again.

you release his now puffy nipple and reach for his cock, stroking it quickly, in pace with your thrust.

"cum for mommy, puppy. be mommy's good boy."

at your words, your fingers toying with his cock and your cock continuously kissing his prostate, jake moans around your fingers. his back arching beautifully as his cock releases a nearly concerningly large amount of cum, your hand strokes him through his orgasm.

his moans now quietened down to whimpers from the strength of his release, your hips slowing before finally going still. you gently pull out of jake, removing your fingers from his mouth, a string of saliva connecting you.

immediately, praises fall out of you. jake lets you manhandle him gently until he's resting on your lap on your chair once again. a comforting hand patting over jake's back while pressing soft kisses wherever you can reach as he rests his head on your shoulder, arms wrapping around you tightly, his tail wagging as he basks in your praise.

©spideyriki 🍉

[wastefulreverie]

fixed point

“Would you like to know how much time you have left?” Clockwork asked.

Danny had never wished more that he’d died in something with pockets so he could hide his shaking hands. The endless ticking in the lair—hundreds of hands TICK TICK TICK -ing in perfect sync—had never sounded so ominous.

“I—” his voice rattled his throat, a raw thing “—I didn’t think you gave spoilers.”

With an absent spin of their staff, Clockwork shifted from adult to child and said nothing. Dread hung heavy in the air, Clockwork’s unblinking stare piercing through it all. Danny pointedly did not make eye contact. Instead focusing on the oscillating hands of the wall behind them.

He took a breath.

“Will it make it easier, knowing?”

Clockwork blinked once, face betraying nothing.

Dammit.

He wasn’t an idiot. There was really only one outcome of this conversation. Just as there had been the day he’d first pulled on his jumpsuit, walking—tripping—through the threshold. Life snuffed out of him in less than a second.

He brought his shaking hands together and met Clockwork’s even gaze.

And answered.

Thirteen days.

Seven hours.

Thirty-six minutes.

It was somehow both longer and shorter than he’d expected.

It was also a weight off his shoulders, at least in the beginning. It wouldn’t happen any earlier than the date Clockwork had recounted that night. Thirteen days of freedom. Peace. Liberation.

Because if he thought too much about the length of thirteen days, how three-hundred or so hours wasn’t enough time— it’s not fucking FAIR —he would be swallowed by the crushing anxiety that made its permanent home in his stomach.

So there was that.

He didn’t bother telling his friends. They were already all on edge, but if he could act like all was well he could ease their worries. Because ultimately they were just worried about him, and if he was fine they would be too.

He did, however, make contingency plans. Farewell videos on a USB drive taped to the underside of his bed.

He wanted Clockwork to be wrong. Some nights he laid awake, trying his damndest to find a way off this track. This self-fulfilling prophecy. But there was nothing. That moment had already passed with that stupid news broadcast that had glued him to the couch, shaking, as his parents had shouted and jeered at the screen. Dismissive. Furious. Invested.

They hadn’t noticed when he pushed himself off the couch and stumbled, shaking, to the bathroom to purge the contents of his stomach.

It was a miracle he’d only gotten a two-day suspension for slugging Wes in the face in front of the whole cafeteria. Even more so that no one had pieced it together from that.

No one saw him. But they would. When it was too late.

He couldn’t stop it. But as he didn’t acknowledge it in the waking world it wouldn’t exist. So he reserved his existential crises for when there was nothing to distract him from the looming, inevitable deadline.

He wished he could tell Mr. Lancer that whenever he was given detention that afternoon.

On the night of the twelfth day, he didn’t sleep a wink. No amount of coffee could keep his head above his desk that morning, and so, Danny spent his final hour in detention. He considered skipping. Detention was not the place for everything to come to an end.

But wouldn’t leaving—deviating from his normal routine—up the chances of putting events in motion?

Avoidance was his specialty, after all.

Jazz could write a paper on his coping tactics alone if she hadn’t already. 

At nineteen minutes Mr. Lancer stopped in front of his desk. It was only him and Valerie today, and she sat somewhere three desks behind and to his left of him. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, loose yellow sleeves draped over her hands. The bags under her eyes rivaled his own, even though he was sure there hadn’t been too many ghosts in the past week or so—but then again, he’d not been the most attentive to things on the ghost front lately. It was probably his fault she was here at all. 

“Mr. Fenton,” Lancer said. He forced his head to turn, a feat much more difficult than it sounded. His head felt full of lead. “Is everything alright at home?”

Danny forced himself not to cringe.

“Uh.” He ignored the sound of Valerie shifting in her seat behind him. Great. An audience. “Yes.”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been getting much less sleep of late, is all.”

Now this was a load of shit. Danny’s sleep schedule was normally trash. This current existential crisis was no more taxing than his normal night activities.

Lancer continued. “And your parents have—” he paused, eyes flitting somewhere behind him. “—in light of recent revelations, I just worry, Mr. Fenton.”

Hm.

Did he know, then?

Was this it?

Danny stared stupidly for a moment, forgetting to shut his mouth. And then shrugged.

Falling back on ignorance.

If he was honest, he hadn’t quite expected Lancer to be the one to put it together, but it also made sense. 

Lancer’s mouth thinned. “I know they can be intense, especially with the scrutiny placed on our school now. No one should feel scared to come to school. Or go home,” he said, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “This is a safe space.”

For a moment all he could hear was the drum of his heart in his chest. And then behind him, Valerie cleared her throat.

“With all due respect, Mr. Lancer,” she said, “nowhere is safe with that putrid ghost hiding among us.”

Danny didn’t turn around. Lancer’s reaction was subdued, but there was a protective fire in his eyes that confirmed Danny’s suspicions. He wondered how long ago he’d put it together.

“Ms. Gray,” Lancer said, “I see your point, but I’m just trying to ease tensions.”

Danny checked the clock.

Seventeen minutes. 

Maybe he should’ve skipped detention after all.

(No escaping the inevitable. No do-overs this time.)

Valerie scoffed. “So what? We let our guard down?” he chanced a glance behind him, and Valerie’s eyes were red-rimmed—from lack of sleep or otherwise he had no idea. “Someone here is a walking weapon and we’re supposed to ignore this? Fenton at least knows he’ll be safe at home, but what about the rest of us? We don’t get to go home to ghost-hunting parents—we have to hold our own.”

Lancer nodded. “I understand. I just think that it’s very frightening for all of us, ghost hunters or not.”

Danny’s voice cracked when he spoke. “Yeah.”

Valerie’s expression softened. “I didn’t mean to make light—”

“No. No, you’re right,” he said. “It’s not safe with Phantom as a student here. Whoever he is.”

She sighed. “Danny, I don’t know what it’s like with your parents, but—”

“But what?” he cut her off. “Because they’re ghost hunters they’re automatically the safest people in the room?” He lowered his voice. “You would think that.”

She froze. “What does that mean?”

Hm. Whoops.

“People don’t know what it’s like, I guess.”

Danny turned back around. Lancer’s stare was dripping with sympathy.

Fifteen minutes.

There was a scrape of a chair, a thud of feet, and a warm hand on his shoulder. Valerie released him just as fast. When he met her eyes, they were as wide as saucers.

“D—Danny,” she said with a note of panic. “You’re cold.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

She took a step back. He hadn’t seen her this scared since they’d been stranded on Skulker’s island together. He could see the realization dawning. 

“Val,” he said, knowing full well what was going through her head, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s not you,” she said, a desperate plea. “I can’t be this stupid.”

He sighed and Lancer stepped between them.

“Ms. Gray,” he said, “now let’s not jump to conclusions—”

“No!” she shook her head. “No, no, no! It doesn’t make sense. You’re—your parents hunt ghosts. Hunt Phantom.”

Danny crossed his arms.

“So do you.”

Lancer looked between them like Danny had announced that he liked eating golf balls. “What.”

Tears welled in Valerie’s eyes. “I trusted you!”

The minute hand inched forward.

Fourteen.

“You trusted me to what?”

Valerie clenched her fists. “Don’t do that! Don’t play stupid!”

“Ms. Gray—”

“I’m not playing.” Danny turned sideways in his desk, facing her head-on. “Tell me what you think I’ve done, Val.”

“Mr. Fenton—!”

“You replaced him. You replaced Danny. How long have you been pretending to be him? To be alive? How can you live with yourself, going home everyday and seeing his parents and—and—acting like you’re still—” she choked on her tears. “You terrorize this town, Phantom. I won’t let you take anything else from me, or anyone.”

Lancer’s eyes were wide. He’d never seen the man so shocked, in such foreign territory.

Valerie, on the other hand, was resolute. There was as much determination in her face as tears.

“I’m still me,” he said. “I died, but I came back. I never replaced myself, however that works. I am sorry, Val. There’s a lot that—”

“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! ”

“—that I didn’t mean to happen.”

Lancer slammed his hand on Danny’s desk.

“Can we all settle down!”

It all happened in a matter of seconds. The clock in his peripheral kept him tethered to the moment. 

Valerie reached behind her and pulled a blaster.

A flash of red—

(The minute hand moves.

Thirteen.)

—and a burst of hot pain through his side.

He crumpled forward, his head meeting the linoleum floor with a SMACK and somewhere above him a distant shout.

Everything from his side to his cranium THROBBED and it wouldn’t fucking stop.

(He’d taken hits from Val before. This shouldn’t hurt so much. Why does this—?)

Iron pooled in his mouth. 

Oh right.

Ectoplasm was thicker than blood.

Danny tried to push himself up from the floor but the world spun and his arms gave out below him and he slumped back down to the cold, hard floor.

The floor felt better.

Maybe he would…

Stay here for a while…

***

The television clicked on. A rerun of the six o’clock news.

He didn’t let Jazz turn it off.

“According to a recent report, there is speculation that our local ghost vigilante Phantom might be living among us. Care to tell us more, Lance?”

“Yes, Tiffany.” Lance Thunder’s stupid blonde hair was polished and perfect as usual and he wanted to wipe that stupid half-smile off the bastard’s face. “A ghost ID’ed as Walker —” at this, a crude picture that was mostly just a white blur appeared on the screen “— has publicly announced that our hero is a student at Casper High fooling us, flying under the radar.”

“And as far as we understand, tips from ghosts aren’t verifiable…?”

“Normally, yes, but there is evidence to suggest that—”

“This isn’t good for you,” Jazz hissed. “I know that it’s scary, but—”

“Exposure therapy,” he snapped back. “It’s gonna be the talk of the school anyway.”

She slumped back down onto the couch. “Take care of yourself.”

The door to the lab was thrown open. His parents marched through the kitchen and into the living room, perfectly eclipsing the TV.

“—telling you, Jack. The DNA scans are inconclusive at best. Their so-called ‘experts’ are out of their depths.”

“We’ll show them once and for all. If we can find out which student it’s using as cover—”

“—we’ll expose Phantom for the monster he is!”

His parents disappeared upstairs for the night, but he could still hear snippets of their vows to destroy him. 

He shot Jazz a tired look. “Easier said than done.”

***

Someone was touching him.

Everything on his left burned. Far above him were LEDs and beige ceiling tiles. He wasn’t sure when he’d been rolled onto his back. But he was now, and someone was pressing down on the spot that burned burned burned—!

Blood trickled down his throat.

How many minutes had it been?

How many did he have left?

There were voices, somewhere, but everything sounded like it was underwater. Maybe it was. Drowning would be preferable to many of the other deaths he’d prepared for. Still terrible, sure, but vivisection lowered the bar considerably. 

“—have you done!”

“He’s—” A girl’s voice wavered, quiet. “He’s Phantom. He’s not supposed to—to—”

Wow. Valerie had the decency to sound ashamed.

At least he could die knowing that his killer at least had a few shreds of regret.

(Is it sad that it’s more than he expected?)

“—little first aid.” The pain came in waves, and all Danny could hear was the rush of his stupid heart in his ears. “—expecting shootings in America, but not from a—” 

Just as fast as it came, the world melted away. His last grasp on consciousness slipped away.

(As fast as the click of a button.)

***

Wes had a punchable face.

But hey—that’s what you get for talking to the press. The accusations were written off as pretty baseless, but the damage had been done. He got inquisitive stares now and again. After all, Wes was a joke, but his interview put Danny’s name on the list of suspects and that was enough to fuck his entire life over.

After his two-day suspension, Danny had little opportunity to survey his work. Honestly, more people asked him about how bad he fucked up Wes’s face than whether or not he was Phantom.

(From what he had seen, it was in a perpetual state of purple and that was enough to curb his anger for now.)

So. He had two days off from school.

Danny went to see Clockwork.

Long Now welcomed him with welcome arms, and he broke down into a fit of whines and gripes about how it seemed like everyone was out to get him, that everyone wanted to put his head on a pike. Everyone wanted to ferret out the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Clockwork shared their sympathies.

“No matter what I do, I just—I’m a wreck. I think someone’s figured it out. That they know, but then I mention it to Jazz or Sam or Tucker and I’m just paranoid and I think I’m paranoid now and—” he groaned. “I don’t know what to do. I’m losing my mind.”

“You do know that it’s inevitable that the truth comes to light.”

He froze. “What.”

Clockwork shifted from senior to adult. “Your paranoia isn’t for naught. It’s a matter of time.”

No. This couldn’t be happening.

He’d figure a way out.

There had to be something.

“I thought nothing was inevitable.”

“Not nothing,” Clockwork hummed. “Often, it is nothing. But not this time.”

Their words shook him to the core. He’d suspected it, sure, but confirmation was—

“I know it isn’t fair.”

“Don’t tell me what is and isn’t fair!” Danny snapped. “Your entire life isn’t—isn’t under scrutiny for everyone. If they know that I’m me, I—”

He pressed his hands to his chest.

He would be finished.

One way or another, someone would find a way to put him on their table.

The government.

His parents.

Maybe someone else out for his blood.

(His body.)

“I can’t see what will happen past them learning the truth,” Clockwork said. “But it is a fixed point. Everything past that diverges, a thousand roads. Timelines. Possibilities. I can’t tell you what to expect. The best, the worst. I cannot offer that reassurance.”

“Oh.”

They nodded. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“I don’t want them to find out,” he said in a pathetic whine.

For a long moment, Clockwork said nothing. If not for the constant ticking of clocks, he would have thought they were frozen. But then Clockwork’s expression shifted.

And they asked: 

“Would you like to know?” 

***

…

……

………

Warbled voices were around him again. Different.

But this time more in focus.

“Sir, Ma’am, if you could leave the room—”

“I will NOT. That is my son, and I am not leaving until someone tells me why there is a HOLE in his chest—!”

And somewhere else, a shriek of sobs.

“We’re transporting him to the hospital, you can’t—”

“I did it,” said that same, sobbing voice. “I shot him. I shot him.”

More people were touching him and Danny didn’t like it oh god no no no —

“—get him on the stretcher—”

“—the hell DID you—”

“—Ms. Gray, you—”

“—no! I want to know why—”

“—securing him, just—”

And now time did slow.

The EMTs lifted the stretcher.

And his face lolled to the side, giving him a clear view of the clock.

The minute hand moved one last time.

Just as:

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t—he’s Phantom, I didn’t think that it would—!” Valerie, cut off, sobbing. “I’m so sorry, Danny. If you can hear me, I’m so sorry.”

And then there was silence.

Crushing darkness.

***

If he had any last doubts that his secret was out, they were snuffed out when he woke up in the hospital to the pained faces of his parents. Jazz was in the chair to his left, hair mussed up and asleep. His parents’ eyes were red with tears. In his delirium, he also noticed Sam’s backpack discarded in the corner.

How long had—?

“Two days.”

Clockwork appeared before him in their adult form. They swung their staff, looking rather pleased with themselves. Danny then realized the occupants of the room had been frozen as long as he’d been awake. 

“You’re recovering well, all considered.” Clockwork tapped a clipboard on a nearby table. “I will say, I am surprised that we took this route. It is what you might call a ‘spoiler,’ but it’s kinder than most.”

“Is it,” he said, voice hoarse.

Clockwork waited for him to finish coughing up his lungs before speaking again. “They’re handling it as best they can. I won’t say it’s great, but you’re on the way there.”

“I—what happened, again?”

And as he asked, it came rushing back.

Lancer. Valerie.

And paramedics?

Clockwork gave him a knowing smile. “Your teacher called an ambulance. In his panic, he might have let it slip that you were having a reaction because of a ghost weapon, and your parents were looped into the call.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Danny’s eyes found his frozen heart monitor, time stopped between beats. Below, his mother had tied off the top half of her HAZMAT suit and was wearing a black shirt beneath. He did notice that the contents of her weapons belt were emptied.

He turned back to Clockwork. “How did they take it?”

They shrugged. “Why don’t you ask them?”

“Wait—wait, I'm not ready.”

“How about this? I tell you how much time you have left.” They raised their staff. “Three—”

“Clockwork—”

“Two—”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Time in.”

[viloxity]

Fluctuating Skies (Part 1 of 2) — Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Female Reader

Part 2

Synopsis: The scenario where the Monarchs rule Earth and the Shadow Monarch finds you in the New World.

A/N: this is one of two parts (he’ll get more unhinged, don’t worry). additionally, this is cross posted on quotev under the same name (viloxity). Any and all feedback or comments are greatly appreciated!!!

You loved the sky.

The sky was beautiful, and perfect. It was never-ending; even when you stared until your eyes burned, you could never find the ending—or the beginning. You would stare, and stare, until you noticed the clouds. The way the clouds explored the skies’ vastness, steadily drifting towards their next unknown journey, gave you hope in this fickle world—a world where you were not sure if a tomorrow was guaranteed.

Each distortion that filled the skies—the skies you have started to despise—spelled an inevitable demise as humanity endured even worse losses. As you took exams at college, there were lines outside of hospitals. The day of your graduation, as you walked the confetti covered balcony, there were bodies lining graves—the A-rank dungeon break nearly flushed out a small city an hour away from you. That day, your supposed ‘celebration’ encompassed hesitant smiles and reluctant whispers that congratulated you on your success.

“At least we are still here.” You recalled a woman saying, scolding the looks on her family’s faces.

You looked at the sky, your tassel gently flowing with the motion of your head. Eventually, the monsters will take over this land. They will overwhelm humanity’s strongest fighters and wipe out the population in clusters. You could feel the anger pooling, then, at your helplessness. Average civilians were so weak, so useless. It hurt that you couldn’t even protect anyone, let alone yourself. Why, why were you born so weak—

Your emotions stilled at a cloud that slowly passed over the sun. Your heart was calm, beating slower.

Even when the world ends, the sky will remain unchanged—unchanged, vast, and still beautiful.

Then, the world ended.

You still remembered the day as if it were just yesterday, when the gates appeared—the roaring sounds oscillating across the entire country and its diameter devouring the peaceful summer sky. The action of itself was unjust—not because it triggered the apocalypse, but because it tied in a pacifist to the unyielding destruction of the entire world. There was a brief intermission between the gate openings and the flow of monsters; realization of the situation propelled Darwin’s theory of natural selection into motion. You were lucky to have broken out of your stupor, yelling out that everyone should run—maybe you saved some lives that day.

The screams were just as loud as the tremors that shook the earth once the rampage began. You could not focus on anything else but the shrieks, and the vile sounds of slicing of innocent faces you would now never get to meet in this lifetime. Once again, you were helpless to the world around you. No awakening, no power, no ability to do anything. The best you could do was silence your whimpers and hope it all stops.

Was your family okay? You thought as another scream fell silent. Where were they?

You looked at the sky for a miracle, but all you could see was that damned gate.

“Thank you.” The stranger’s trembling hands folded over the small bread bun, his eyes full of shame and gratitude.

You nodded, then smiled. “You can pick up water from the well just North of here.”

The man nodded his head, repeatedly murmuring ‘thank you’s’ with his voice growing hoarse as tears dripped down his eyes. He had not moved to start eating yet; you could feel his hesitance even after you gave him the bun. You nodded once more before making a swift exit. From a few meters away, you could distantly make out the sounds of biting and chewing.

Your heart felt content. It was warm, sometimes, but it was hard for the heat to linger long. It was hard to fan the flames in the first place; humanity had dispersed into fragments, with remnants of a sound society lost long ago. You also had not heard of a single word regarding your family, no matter how many villages you crossed or people you asked—you assumed them dead on the day of the Parade.

Yes, the day of the Parade. The day of the nightmare you wished to forget, the crossing of endless monstrosities, and the mark of the end of humanity. By some miracle, despite the constant onslaught of dragons and beasts crossing the gates, you lived. Back then, people agreed how fortunate you and others were to be able to hide—after all, if you didn’t hide, you ran. Yet, all you could feel was turmoil brewing within you.

Was it really something fortunate?

The people you loved; your family, friends, they were all gone. Your accomplishments, career, vanished the moment the gates flooded open. Back then, you were playing a game of ‘pretend’—those serene smiles and unsaid thoughts renounced the oncoming catastrophe as a tale of make-believe. You wanted to shout at the survivors that nothing was ‘fortunate’ anymore, that you all were apart of scrapped pages ripped from a fable that deemed your lives forfeit after its story reached the end. You were dirt on the ground, now; organic matter that existed as sustenance for better life forms.

Then, there was the sky. The sky you had loved and cherished deeply, was an entity that you blamed. It was the sky’s fault; something that symbolized tranquility and freedom was replaced as a symbol of the beginning of the end. Beautiful, were the bright explosions that blinded and wrecked cities. Vast, the lines of gates that it held. Limitless, the rows and rows of monsters it brought from within. No longer a constant variable in your life, it was something that reminded you of the day you lost everything.

At least, that’s what you thought back then.

There was more to life than you realized when you found the first village. You had trekked far from the city, and far from your home. You did not know where you were walking, and it looked fruitless based on the lack of your supplies. By a stroke of luck, a group came across you while you were slumped on the floor. They pitied you, offering to take you to their sanctuary—the last of humanity’s efforts to survive.

Upon arrival, you noticed the structure itself looked flimsy, with a handful of people walking through rubble and around deep holes in the ground. It also looked poorly built; houses were built from logs and leaves, with some looking as if they could fall over any moment. But, that didn’t matter—what mattered were the people. A person stood in the middle of the village; you could only make out his shouts and pointing in different directions to assume he was the leader of the village. You watched as men moved to build another house, the same poorly structured house, as others ran away to seemingly get supplies. The women occupied their time by cooking and playing with the children, and you nearly cried at how carefree the children looked.

Despite everyone’s losses, they still moved on. You all were specks of dirt in the ground, but together—as soil—you could erode even the hardest of rocks.

You stopped momentarily, turning behind a piece of wooden wall that was left from a now-destroyed-shed. You peeked around the corner, seeing the man feast on the tiny bun. Good, he was eating. You originally volunteered to assist outsiders, thus had been handing out bread buns the entire day to lone scavengers roaming the outskirts. Although you could no longer take care of your family like you used to, at least you can try to ensure the nourishment of others.

You sighed, relief sifting down your body. You shifted through your bag, feeling the weight of a singular item. You had one more piece left, meaning your work wasn’t over, but you had exhausted nearly the entire outskirts. Perhaps you should take another lap around again—

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw what looked to be a dark, blackened figure. It reminded you of the black spots you would get when you were dizzy or fatigued, so you turned your head for a better view.

There was… nothing. Everything was dark, covered by a half-broken roof and the rapid growth of moss and vines. You felt as if… something was staring at you. It was like a sharp pinch, as if there was a pair of eyes piercing like a needle into your soul. At the same time, you felt tired; enough so that if you were to close your eyes right now, you were sure the abyss would greet you in response.

Your eyes swept the shed, noticing a faintly drawn outline that was swaying within the void of darkness. You made contact with a pair of dimmed gray hues, its stare so bold and cold that a shiver quaked through your body. It was tempting to conclude that it was just some illusion, some petty trick on your mind so that the pill was easier to swallow. The longer you stared into the gray depths, the more you couldn’t look away.

What was this feeling?

It was not only that you felt your heart pump strenuously, but the surreality of your condition. You felt and heard your heart pump simultaneously with the feeling of adrenaline hitting your bloodstream. Your arms and legs tensed out of instinct, causing you to wince as your muscle fibers moved and pulled across your bones. The several cracks under the soles of your feet trembled slightly, as if matching your fear.

You wanted to look away so badly. You are too entranced now; a rabbit trapped under sharp claws as the wolf stared down its prey.

Please, please, please, look away.

No, this feeling—

You are remembering that day again. God, why even remember now?

It must be a coincidence—but it couldn’t be. It feels so much like…

Like…

Like those beasts.

Those beasts that walked where the sun did not follow.

They appeared in shaky and inky black forms. They would appear, and whatever they would do, would always result in a calamity. You heard the most screams from them, always.

“I’m paralyzed.” You thought, realization sinking in.

Is this the end?

Then, a sigh.

A deep, long, aired out sigh.

In an instant, all the pressure building within your frame vanished. The tension on your sarcomeres lessened, like a weight slowly floating off your shoulders. As the rush dissipated, you are left with trembling hands and shaky legs. Your senses came back to you, one by one.

Your head shot up, fearful eyes meeting wary ones. You see a figure, now—which looked to be a man—but it was odd. His frame was fluctuating between reality and obscurity, like he was struggling to pick the right balance of tenebrosity or to succumb entirely to the veil of night. His stare engraved holes into you; it was lucky that you hadn’t deflated into a balloon, most likely due to the restraint on his aura.

Aura… his sheer presence is powerful enough to knock you unconscious, that much you could tell.

To be truthful, you were clueless as to his actual thoughts. Initially, his presence was concealed—only emitting essence that you now thought was a warning. Maybe you pushed a button or two, seeing as he actually appeared in front of you. If anything, you were slightly grateful to know that you weren’t entirely crazy and that there was an actual person in the shed. However, you couldn’t read his expression at all; firstly because he wasn’t conveying anything, and secondly because you were too scared to try.

Neither of you moved; the shock having knocked the breath out of you and the stranger seemingly studying you.

Then,

“Go home.”

His voice was deep, so low in octave you imagined the sound waves still bouncing around your ear drums. In any other situation, it would’ve soothed you, as you envisioned singing lullabies or the humming of baritone tunes.

But, you also weren’t stupid. The man’s wording was specific—a demand. In a sense, he was a king; a ruler who offers you mercy after finding you in contempt of the sovereign because you tried stepping on his land. Unconsciously, your legs moved, recognizing that the lord gave you permission to leave—words your being waited on with bated breath to live another day.

So, you ran, not realizing that you dropped your bag of items, nor the growing smile on the stranger’s face.

That man, he never left your mind.

Somber gray eyes, and a complexion that rivaled Greek gods. His hair was as dark as the shadows devoured under his silhouette. He was more than ordinary, representative of a being that practices and deals in absolute power. There were only a handful of people who were gifted with abilities like that, back when the very first gates opened.

Right, now you remembered—they were called hunters. Hunters were classified into different rankings, all the way to S-rank and even national level hunters. To be a hunter, you were granted a certain seed of power.

If he were to be like anything else back then, could he have been a hunter? An S-class, even?

It was rare to come across ‘hunters’ anymore, the label long disbanding alongside the association that coined the term. When they appeared, it was considered a bad omen. Either they were chased by the Monarchs of the New World (for the risk they held) or isolated by the unawakened out of fear. Perhaps, the man was the last of the hunters—of the humans who could fight back at all.

Either way, you wanted to see him again. The more reflecting you did, the more you registered his seclusion; he is far, far from the remnants of civilization.

Regardless of the fear you felt, or the possibility of death, he was still human. He was someone who lost everything, just like you and everyone else.

The destination was a long and grueling walk from the current village you stayed at. Passing by outlanders, you gave out food and supplies as normal, while steadily making your way towards the shed.

Would he still be there? It was hard to say. Most remaining hunters were known to be nomads; staying in one place for longer than a day was like shooting fish in a barrel for their next enemy. You were not sure if he was a hunter in the first place, too—it was your latest profound superstition to be proven by whatever little luck you had left. As you treaded further, the familiarity of your surroundings fill you with perpetual dread. You began to second-guess your courage to embark on this trip in the first place, thoughts clouded and eventually drowned out by faint whispers inside decaying wooden walls. The moment your final step reached the broken shelter a hush filled the air, the shed girdling the edge of the forest encompassed by a heavy silence.

“Hello?” You called out to no one in particular.

You nearly surprised yourself with the surge of bravery to make out your greeting. You peeked into the shed, hands waving through vines. There was no one around the entrance, despite you hearing multiple voices.

Odd.

You weaved through a few cracks in the floorboard before being greeted by gray eyes. You jumped, obviously, because you did not expect him to be in such close proximity to you. He was a till a few feet away, but you could have never spotted him if he chose to sit closer to the wall. He was indeed discernible now, sitting under a small stream of light gifted by the sun. His shadow dragged along the box he sat atop of, sinking behind its crevices before pushing itself onto the wall and absorbing its shade. In any other universe, you would’ve described it as strange. In this case, you thought it supported how outlandish—and isolated—he must be.

“You’re back, what a surprise,” The man said, expression clearly detached. “I thought I scared you off.”

This was going to be difficult.

“Right. I was, but I thought it would be better to introduce myself since we got off on the wrong foot—“

A half truth, but you were also cautious.

“—my name is Y/N.”

He was burning holes into you again—the stare wasn’t any less discomforting than the previous time. His silence, too, was deafening. A sudden urge to scream to at least get a reaction out of him rose within you, but you quickly simmered it out.

The stranger’s eyes narrowed slightly as he let out a faint hum.

You winced. “I wanted to give you something that I couldn’t last time.”

You quickly plucked out a wrapped item, hastily tearing through the covering to reveal a bread bun. You weren’t able to catch a glimpse of his face, opting to shift the bread onto an elevated surface so he wouldn’t be incentivized to lunge at you.

“I hope that this helps you, even if it isn’t a whole lot.” You said, nervously picking your cuticles.

The silence was very, VERY heavy, and—can he please say something?

You looked up and caught the man’s wide eyed, dazed state as his eyes lingered on the bread. It reminded you of a skeptical stray cat at a crossroads when offered an open-hand. The man’s eyes met yours, then, and all you could think was how much better he looked without baring his teeth at you.

“You’re funny.” He dryly chuckled, faint smile betraying his nonchalance.

You offered a small smile, blissfully unaware of his next few words.

“I’m Jinwoo.”

And,

“See you tomorrow?”

“Are you a hunter, Jinwoo?” You asked after placing down the wrapped bread.

You wanted to use his name in some way, lest you forget it or say it wrong. It was ironic you carried over some of your social habits after the end of the world, like a puppy you once fed.

“You could say that,” Jinwoo replied simply.

“Could?” You echoed.

He must’ve noticed your frown, adding, “Not like it matters now.”

He had a point; the name lost its meaning awhile ago. Still, you were ruffled by his restrained disposition. Surely, the label still had meaning to him.

…No, that was an unfair presumption. Jinwoo knows his own memories and emotions better than everyone, especially you. Besides, it wasn’t worth arguing the semantics on the basis of mere suspicion.

Thus, you decided to let it go.

Ah, that reminded you—he never told you his last name.

“You don’t have family?”

“I did.”

You perked up. “…You lost them, too?”

Jinwoo closed his eyes, licking his lips. “Because of the Tragedy, yes, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Then, he squinted his eyes curiously. “I’m more interested in your story.”

You coughed suddenly, shocked by his gravitation towards you. Maybe it was because all you had to offer was bread and stories, or because you never took the chance to settle with your memories, but you felt compelled to talk.

And talk, you did.

Jinwoo was an excellent listener; he was levelheaded and passive, allowing you to just… talk, and talk, and talk (with a tendency to sigh or huff as remarks). You were spilling your family’s entire life story, grasping this fact in the middle of talking about your sister’s fiancé’s secret affair, but you found that you didn’t care. If you weren’t able to come to terms with your family’s passing before this, perhaps someone else can remember in your stead.

Did he care to remember every single detail, anyway? Probably not.

“Hold on—I lost track of the time. Crap, it’s getting dark.” You said, rushing to readjust your cloak. If you started the walk now, you might make it before it’s fully dark.

“It’s rather late, it wouldn’t be safe for you to leave.” Jinwoo said, rough voice clipping louder than your hurried shuffling.

“Did you like my stories that much?” You joked.

You waited a few beats of silence. “Sorry, bad joke; I wouldn’t have any place to sleep if I stayed, anyway.”

The shed violently shook at the end of your sentence, causing your heart to lurch in your chest. You latched onto the metal pole next to you, clutching tightly as you waited for the shaking to cease. Within seconds, Jinwoo was next to you, gently but firmly holding your arm; in moments, the quaking stopped.

“Must’ve been an earthquake.” Jinwoo noted, tone and expression laced with unconventional serenity.

Your quivering hadn’t stopped after the vibrations ceased. In fact, it increased exponentially because you were still trying to comprehend the glimpse of Jinwoo’s vibrant, deep purple eyes etched with absolute unadulterated fury.

You were deluded, you thought quickly as your breathing hastened. You were tired, surely.

“I should go home.”

His breathing stilled.

“Don’t forget about me tomorrow,” Jinwoo said, sounding strangely hollow as his iron grip slowly released you.

Once again, you ran away from his grasp.

[aligned-starz]

Mixtape - Mattheo Riddle

. * ꙳ ✦ ⊹Pairing : mattheo riddle x fem!reader

Warnings : fluff, use of y/n y/l/n, happy ending

Summary : who knew mattheo could be so patient?

Song : Somethin' Stupid - Frank Sinatra, Nancy Sinatra. * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

Mattheo Riddle's reputation preceded him: notorious for his quick temper and razor-thin patience. His tolerance for delays could be measured in mere molecules. For most, the prospect of having Mr. Riddle wait on them was akin to receiving a rare blessing or witnessing a miracle. Yet for Y/n, it was just another day in the life.

However, if you were bold enough to confront him about it, he would vehemently deny it, insisting that he never waits on anyone.

"What do you mean you don't wait on anyone, mate? Y/n's got you waiting like a dog on a leash," Blaise quipped, earning chuckles around the Slytherin table. Mattheo shot his friends a glare, a familiar grumpy expression settling upon his face at their teasing. It wasn't anything new.

"Aww, look at the state of you, you big softy!" Pansy's laughter and jest seemed to aggravate him further, evident in the forceful grip on his fork, which tightened by the minute. Theodore observed his friend, noticing something amiss. Mattheo would typically retort with a snarky response, but now he seemed so lost in thought.

Noticing his unusual change in demeanor, the group silently decided to shift the topic, directing their attention to Berkshire, who had become the target of their ridicule.

Lorenzo had recently found himself in an embarrassing altercation with the revered potions master. It marked one of the worst instances of public humiliation he had ever endured. Picture this: he was already five minutes late, had brought the wrong set of books, stumbled over his words while responding to Snape, AND managed to blow up his and his potions partner's cauldron.

Naturally, this series of blunders led to a sassy and cold scolding from Snape. To say that Lorenzo was left blushing scarlet by the end of class would be an understatement.

"Hi Matt!"

Clang! The loud sound of the fork hitting the cool stone floors of the grand hall echoed through the room, accompanied by Mattheo's accidental knee bump in surprise, drawing everyone's attention at the table. If that fork could talk, it would likely express gratitude for your sudden appearance, saving it from the clutches of Riddle's vice-like grip. As Mattheo turned toward you, the frostiness in his gaze thawed, replaced by a gentle warmth in his brown eyes.

Just a moment ago he was lost in his thoughts about you. Did he think of you so much to the point he had conjured you up in front of him? Where the hell did you come from?

Nott smirked at the interaction, Merlin's beard, this guy is whipped.

"You seemed to have dropped your fork, here." you remarked, catching his attention once again. His eyes followed your movements as you gracefully crouched down to retrieve the utensil from the floor. Standing back up, he met your gaze through his long, soft eyelashes while you held out the fork for him to reclaim. And in a trance-like state, he slowly reached out and took it.

Your hands touched. In that moment, a foolish part of him yearned for more, to pull you close and envelop you in the warmth of a hug, to allow himself to be vulnerable for once.

The soft snickering of his friends broke him out of his trance, and with a quick motion, he turned away from you.

"Thanks." His response was brief, but it brought a smile to your lips.

Despite the sudden change, he had subtly shifted along the bench, creating space beside him. It felt like a silent invitation for you to join him. So, without a word, you took your place and set down your plate, inadvertently brushing the back of your hand against his. Perhaps it was unintentional.

Mattheo froze once more, wrestling with his impulses. It took considerable effort to restrain himself, but there was something about you that stirred a tumult of emotions within him. Something that tempted him to lean in and shower your face with kisses. It was beginning to unsettle him.

He withdrew his hand and discreetly tucked it under the table, his gaze fixed downward, brows furrowed in frustration at the escalating intensity of his emotions. His friends looked at one another knowingly, before they continued to chatter about other topics.

As you settled beside him, he couldn't help but notice the subtle fragrance of your perfume, a scent he seemed to encounter every time you were in close proximity. It carried notes of vanilla, with a delicate hint of cherries. The aroma enveloped him, not in a way that hurt his nose, but in a way that stirred a dizzying sensation within him. His heart quickened its pace, and a tightness settled in his chest, each breath seeming to draw in more of your intoxicating essence.

Like smoking a blunt, but knowing it’s good for you.

You joined the chatter, contributing your opinion to whatever topic the group was discussing, he turned his head in your direction. His gaze traced every curve and detail of your face as you spoke. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you laughed in response to something Pansy had remarked, and he felt his own lips instinctively mirror the gesture.

He was going to say something, a witty remark or anything to get you to smile even further. But somehow he couldn’t find his words, his attention consumed by your captivating presence as he struggled to form a coherent sentence. Every gesture, every word you uttered seemed to mesmerize him. You’ve made THE Mattheo Riddle, speechless. 

Suddenly, Cedric Diggory approached, clad in his yellow and black robes. Mattheo felt a pang of discomfort stir within him as he watched your attention shift to the newcomer, your smile widening in greeting. He clenched his jaw, his gaze flickering between the two of you, a knot forming in his stomach.

“Y/n, would you like to continue our herbology project? We could get started early.”

His statement abruptly halted the lively conversation around the table. The group exchanged puzzled glances with one another before collectively turning their attention to Riddle. The air grew tense as the weight of his words settled over them, leaving everyone momentarily speechless. Except you, who smiled and chatted with the boy.

A profound sense of jealousy surged within Mattheo, causing his smile to form into a narrow line. You were too nice and oblivious to even notice the abrupt hush that fell over the group.

It wasn't that they disliked Diggory—far from it. It’s just that the group was well aware of Mattheo's possessive tendencies, especially when it came to the girl Cedric was currently chatting with. Their concern wasn't about Diggory himself, but rather the potential for Mattheo's jealousy to stir up trouble.

They all watched the boy closely, anticipating a cutting, sarcastic remark to shatter the silence. But it never came. Instead, he merely averted his gaze, displaying an unusual patience. As you stood up to resume your herbology project and leave, he offered you a gentle smile, a stark contrast to the tension everyone else felt.

The silence deepened after you left, each person at the table coming to their own realization. He didn't just like you. It became evident to all of them that Mattheo was deeply in love with you, so much so that his usual bad behavior seemed to dissolve in your presence. His rough edges softened, revealing a side of him they had rarely seen. It was incredibly uncharacteristic of him, unsettling his platinum blond friend. 

"Gods, so it's true then, you love Y/l/n." Draco scoffed and broke the silence, his voice a mix of bewilderment and surprise. Pansy quickly turned and swatted the back of his head, offering Mattheo an apologetic look. Mattheo appeared to be on the verge of exploding, his emotions barely contained as Draco's words hung in the air.

"Oh, fuck off, you ferret," he retorted, his voice laced with irritation. His words were sharp, cutting through the tension as he struggled to keep his temper in check once you were gone.

Malfoy's eyes widened as he coughed, his face flushing a deep red in response to Mattheo's remark. It was clear that the notorious "ferret" incident was something they would never let him live down. The group burst into laughter at the joke, everyone except Mattheo. He remained silent, still grappling with the complex emotions he felt towards you, unable to join in their mirth.

"And so he returns. Y/n leaves for a moment, and the devil horns sprout back," Blaise remarked, his words drawing Mattheo's attention. Mattheo's brows knitted in confusion—what did Y/n have to do with any of this?

"What are you all implying?" He gently shook his head, scanning the faces around the table. Each one met his gaze with a sly smirk, leaving him increasingly puzzled by their shared secret.

"You've got it bad for her, Mattheo. It's painfully obvious," Pansy declared, her words echoing the unspoken sentiments of the group. All eyes turned to Mattheo, anticipation hanging in the air, as if they were silently urging him to acknowledge what they all saw. Perhaps hearing it from someone else would finally make him realize the meaning of what he had felt.

“I like her?”

FLASHBACKS. * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

After a few hours at The Three Broomsticks, the group collectively decided to walk home because of the growing crowd at the pub. In the midst of Hogsmeade’s bustling streets, Mattheo trudged along with his friends, their laughter filling the air. Yet, despite the light atmosphere, Mattheo felt the weight of a particularly bad day settling upon him, rendering him silent. 

He’s had a day full of disasters. From sticky butterbeer being spilled onto his sweater, to losing his favorite mixtape. The night sky filled with stars seemed to look upon him with pity, so much so that a sudden downpour of rain drenched the group. They shrieked and laughed as they ran away, leaving behind a Mattheo Riddle who also wanted to run, but noticed the untied state of his shoelaces.  

Mattheo quickly bent down to tie his shoelaces with a loud sigh. Raindrops pelted his back, adding to his already dampened mood. While his tipsy friends were away from his sight, Mattheo's thoughts lingered on the frustrations of the day, his mind clouded with a sense of fatigue and discontent.

He observed the droplets as they splashed around him, forming a small puddle beneath his scuffed Converse shoes. Without so much as a glance at his reflection in the water, he stoically continued to tie his shoelaces, his expression unreadable. As he moved to tie his other untied shoe, a sudden shadow eclipsed his vision, drawing his attention away from the task at hand.

With furrowed brows, he lifted his gaze, a blend of surprise and confusion crossing his features. However, his expression swiftly transformed into one of astonishment as he registered whose presence it was. There you were, holding your leather jacket aloft to shield Mattheo from the relentless rain. Stunned by your unexpected act of kindness, he found himself momentarily frozen in place.

“Well come on, hurry up!” 

Mattheo found solace from the Slytherin party amidst the rows of books, his headphones nestled snugly over his ears. Lost in the melody of his music, he was oblivious to the world around him, the rhythmic sounds escaping from his headphones and gently permeating the tranquil atmosphere.

Beside him, you sat down to accompany him. The library was completely silent, everyone else was probably at the party your friends had thrown, rendering the place empty. However, the muffled strains of Mattheo's music began to seep through his headphones, dancing faintly in the air.

You listened quietly as Mattheo sat with his eyes closed, completely engrossed in the soft melody emanating from his headphones. A gentle smile graced your lips as you watched his relaxed demeanor, his lips slightly parted while his chest rose up and down, the soothing music seemingly transporting him to a quiet state of mind. With his wounded nose, and bruised knuckles, who would’ve guessed he was listening to this kind of music.

You tilted your head, you didn't recognise this kind of music at all. Same as to the tape you found in the courtyard. Curiously, you tapped Mattheo’s shoulder, scaring him out of his tranquil state.

“Shit! Y/n, don’t sneak up on me like that.” Mattheo cursed in surprise, quickly pulling down his headphones and turning to face you, a mix of caution and annoyance in his eyes.

“What are you listening to?” you asked, genuine curiosity evident in your voice.

Mattheo hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his response. Finally, he met your gaze and replied, “Somethin’ Stupid, by Frank Sinatra.”

“Muggle music?” you questioned again, intrigued by his choice.

Mattheo sighed, turning back to face the table and crossing his arms. The solitude he had been enjoying was now broken by your company. “Yes, muggle music,” he replied, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “You wouldn’t know it.”

You silently absorbed his vague answer, a soft smile forming on your lips. Bending down to pick up your bag from the floor, you rummaged through its contents until your fingers brushed against what you were searching for. With a sense of anticipation, you pulled out a small, box-shaped mixtape. Scrawled across its surface in marker were the words, "The Smiths."

“Muggle music huh, like this I presume?” You held the mixtape up within his eyesight. Mattheo's eyes widened slightly in recognition as he realized that the mixtape you were holding was his own. He uncrossed his arms, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over his annoyance.

“You found it,” he breathed, his voice tinged with relief.

You nodded, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. “It was lying in the courtyard. I figured it must be important to you since you’ve mentioned before that you liked muggle music.”

Mattheo's expression softened, tilting his head with a smile, touched by your gesture. “You remembered?.. It is. Thank you.”

As he took the mixtape from you, his fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of warmth through you both. In that fleeting touch, a connection seemed to spark between you.

You've always been friends, but it was always just friends. Not close friends, or bestfriends. Just friends.

The library's quiet enveloped you once more, but now it was accompanied by a newfound sense of comfort and understanding. As Mattheo took out the previous tape, and put in his favorite one, you couldn't help but feel that this chance encounter had brought you closer together in an unexpected way.

Mattheo paused, a thought forming in his head.

"Do you wanna.. listen with me?"

The flickering light from the cauldron cast long shadows on the potions classroom walls. Mattheo stared in frustration at his potion, which was bubbling in all the wrong ways. He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his tousled hair.

"That's it. I can't do this. I’m a lost cause," he muttered, pushing the textbook away and slumping back in his chair.

You shook your head, a determined smile on your face. "You’re not a lost cause. Come on, we can work on it together. Potions is tricky, stop being so hard on yourself."

Mattheo looked at you, doubt etched in his features. "I’ve tried and tried, so many times I’ve lost count. It’s hopeless." He thought of Malfoy and his other friends who had tried countless times to help him pass this project, only to give up defeatedly.

You leaned in closer, your eyes filled with encouragement. "It's not hopeless. Let’s go through the instructions again, step by step."

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you grabbed the book and turned it toward him again, pointing at the list of ingredients. "Remember, you need to add the crushed pearls after the rose thorns. Not before."

Mattheo glanced at the instructions, "How do you remember all this?"

A smile spread across your lips as you chuckled softly. "I actually really enjoy this class. It reminds me of cooking. But enough about me, focus Riddle."

He turned his gaze to you and laughed softly, watching as you explained the potion once more. He noticed the twinkle in your eyes as you talked about a subject you loved, the way your hands moved to make gestures, and how your hair framed your face perfectly, even as the cold wind tried to blow it away. You looked like his favorite mixtape—captivating and cherished.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he turned back to focus on the potion. Despite his earlier frustration, he found it hard to concentrate when you were all he could think about now. But he wanted to impress you.

With your patient guidance, Mattheo carefully measured out the ingredients, adding them in the correct order this time. As he followed your instructions, the potion started to change color, transitioning from a murky brown to a shimmering gold.

A flicker of hope sparked in Mattheo’s eyes. "It’s actually working."

You smiled brightly. "See? I knew you could do it."

A loud laugh of triumph escaped from Mattheo's throat, and as he continued to brew the potion from memory, the shimmering gold color shifted into a soft beautiful pink, with a mother-of-pearl sheen.

"Well Mr. Riddle, I think we have a love potion."

He looked at you with gratitude in his eyes, acknowledging your role in the successful creation of the potion. You could've very easily given up on him, but you didn't.

"Give it a sniff!"

Mattheo leaned over the cauldron, inhaling deeply as the Amortentia potion began to release its powerful scent. His eyes widened in surprise, then softened with confusion. He straightened up, a puzzled look on his face.

"That's odd," he murmured, more to himself than to you. "I don't smell anything distinct, no new smells."

You furrowed your brows, leaning over the cauldron yourself to sniff the potion. Yet, no new smell arose. All you could smell was Mattheo's scent, and all he could smell was your scent. Both that have already been lingering in the air the moment you stepped into the classroom together.

"Huh, maybe I brewed it wrong?" He defeatedly sighed.

Mattheo was on his way out of the common room, ready to meet up with his friends for their usual late-night hangout. The laughter and chatter of Blaise, Draco, and Theodore echoed faintly from down the corridor. He was just about to push the door open when something made him pause.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar figure curled up on the couch by the fireplace. You were fast asleep, a textbook resting open on your chest and a few loose parchments scattered around you. The soft glow from the dying embers of the fire cast a warm, flickering light across your tired face.

Mattheo hesitated, torn between joining his friends and staying behind. His eyes softened as he watched you, noticing the way your hair fell gently across your face and how your breathing was slow and steady. You looked so serene, a contrast to the usually bustling common room.

Unable to help himself, he quietly walked over to the couch. Carefully, he gathered the loose parchments and placed them in a neat pile on the table beside you. He gently closed the textbook and set it aside, making sure not to disturb you.

Instead of leaving, Mattheo decided to stay and look out for you. He settled himself beside you, carefully plopping himself down to sit. You stirred slightly in your sleep, and Mattheo smiled softly, reaching out to adjust the blanket draped over you.

With you resting, Mattheo decided to make himself comfortable as well. He shifted slightly, allowing you to rest your feet on his lap. He pulled out his headphones, making sure his tape player was at a low volume. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes peacefully at your presence and the music playing in his ears.

END OF FLASHBACKS. * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

"Earth to Riddle," Draco said, waving a hand in front of Mattheo’s face. "Where are you, mate?"

"I like her."

Mattheo opened his mouth to speak more, but then closed it again, feeling a rush of clarity. He liked you. No, it was more than that—he realized he was falling for you. All those moments together, your kindness, your patience, your laughter—it all made sense now.

Without another word, he stood up abruptly, his friends laughing at his late realization. "I have to go," he said, his voice firm with determination.

"Yeah! Go get her tiger!" Theo cheered.

Mattheo ran out of the Great Hall, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed to find you. He needed to tell you how he felt.

The cold air nipped at his ears as he ran down the corridors, but he didn't care. His mind was consumed with thoughts of you. He recalled the softness of your voice, a soothing tune to his often restless thoughts, like the songs he uses to escape. He thought about everything he loved about you—the way your eyes sparkled with understanding, your infectious laughter, and the small gestures that showed your kindness.

Your patience with him stood out the most, especially during times when he struggled and felt like giving up. You always believed in him, offering encouragement and support even when he couldn’t find it in himself. Each memory of you fueled his determination, propelling him forward through the chilly air.

He sprinted down the corridors, ignoring the curious looks from other students. He knew where you’d be—near the Herbology classroom. As he burst out of the castle doors and ran toward the greenhouse area, he saw you standing there, leaning against the wall, completely unaware of the whirlwind of emotions that had driven him here.

You turned as Cedric pointed at Mattheo, a confused look both on your faces at the sight of him running toward you, when suddenly he shouted,

"Hey Y/n! I love you!"

My first upload received so much attention, I DID NOT EXPECT THAT AT ALL. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who commented and reblogged. It means a lot to me that people enjoyed my writing, and I hope you all enjoy this one too. To be honest, this work could've been better and I've been putting off finishing this since like forever. But @taylorisamastermind 's kind words inspired me to finish. Again, if you notice any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't!

Thank you everyone! xx

[my masterlist⋆｡°✩]

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 1- Mafia! Miguel O'Hara

        In this Universe, it was not just the villains' you had to be afraid of. In every corner of the city of Nueva York, there were members of the mafia. The amount of families that ran different parts of this city were starting to make one lose count. No matter how safe you felt, you weren't. Everyone, including you, knew better than to mess with anyone. It was best to keep your head down and mind your own business. At least you wanted to.

        It was just another ordinary work day for you. The alarm clock was put on snooze more times than you could count, and now you were running late. Hurrying down the street with a poorly prepared sandwich in hand, you begged to make it in time for work. It was a miracle that the clothes you wore even matched properly. Honestly, preparing the night before always sounded like a great idea. It was just a shame you were too tired to do so.

        Right as the signal changed to walk, gunshots were heard. Everybody ran the opposite direction, knowing better than to get anywhere near. Everyone, except you. Your lateness was going to get you either fired or killed. As of right now, being killed sounded better than being fired. At least it did in your mind before you actually ran towards your job in the mist of another gang war. The tears in your sandwich were going to be a grim reminder to wake up earlier tomorrow-if you lived till then.

----------

        Miguel sat in his vehicle, watching his men go at it with the members of the Vulture clan. He had warned them several times to do this inside, but what point was there to talk with idiots? Needing some fresh air, Miguel stepped out of his car. How much longer until the other side gives up? Wanting to reach for his own gun, Miguel heard the cries of a woman. It was an all too familiar sound. He knew of the effect he had on them.

"Oh?" A slight smirk formed against his lips as he watched you run through the middle of a warzone, "Qué idiota. (What a dumbass)" He muttered under his breathe.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I won't be late next time! I'm sorry!" You cried repeatedly as you fell on the ground, holding your head.

        Miguel found you entertaining. He drew his gun and proceeded to make his way over to your trembling body. Luckily, he only had to fire a few times before his foot was near your (h/l) (h/c) hair. With ease, he grabbed your arm and lifted you towards him. Like instinct, you grabbed onto him, apologizing like there was no tomorrow. A smug grin formed against his lips.

"Parece que me encontré con un perro callejero. No puedo dejar a una cosita tan bonita como tú aquí sola. (Looks like I found me a stray. Can't leave a pretty little thing like you out here alone)" He said lowly. Finally, you raised your head,

"I-I'm so sorry. I was just late for work and...and...You have a gun." Your words kept stuttered as your brain finally started to connect the dots, "I swear I didn't see anything! I'm just passing through! I'm so sorry!"

"What's your name?" Miguel asked as he led you to his car.

"(Y/N)" You replied, watching his every move.

        You were terrified. You had almost died and were saved by a mafia member. Now your life was in his large hands. His beautiful red orbs felt like they were staring into your soul. There wasn't even a speck of dust on this man's clothes. He was so tall and seemed to be on another level than the other guys. Perhaps owing your life to him was not so bad after all. He was handsome and honestly, if he asked you to do something, you probably would.

"Te haré un buen uso si te gusta lo que ves. (I'll make good use of you if you like what you see.)" Miguel's smirk only widen. It took you a minute to slap your flustered cheeks and get your head out of the gutter,

"Huh? I'm sorry, I don't understand Spanish." You politely told him, not wanting to anger the man with a gun. Miguel motioned you aside before entering the car as well,

"I asked where you worked. I'll take you there."

"Are you sure? I'm already being a burden to you."

"You'll be paying me back of course," Miguel's eyes pierced yours, "Just do what I say and we'll be even."

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

"Ugh, Qué descuidado. Nunca has estado con un hombre, ¿verdad? (How sloppy. You've never been with a man, have you?)" Miguel hissed as you sucked on his large cock.

        His hand held your head, guiding you down his shaft. Tears threaten to spill as you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. He was far too long and you had no experience doing something like this. Stroking your hands against his cock, you tried your best to please him. He did save your life after all. Swirling your tongue against his tip, you felt him twitch. He hand returned to your head and started to move you on his own. It hurt as he fucked your mouth, but it made you feel hot.

"Swallow." Miguel commanded as he shoved his cock deep into your mouth. It burned and hurt your jaw, but you did as he said, "Good girl."

        You let out a cough, trying to hold your composure. Miguel lifted you up and placed you on his lap. He slid your underwear to the side, sliding a finger inside your wet hole. Moans escaped your throat as you held onto his shoulders. His thick fingers stretched you out better than your own toys. It felt good. With a sudden curl, Miguel had you putty in his arms. Your moans were getting louder as your felt your climax approaching.

"Que guarra. A punto de correrme solo con mi dedo. (How slutty. About to cum with just my finger.)"

        If only you knew what he was saying. It turned you on more just thinking about the naughty things he was calling you. This sexy stranger who saved your life was now about to fuck you in his car. You should be regretting this, but your better judgement was telling you otherwise. Feeling Miguel remove his finger made you mewl in protest. His placed his fingers' in your mouth as he lowered your waist.

        Your eyes widen as you felt him slowly enter your throbbing hole. It was hurting. Your small hands gripped onto Miguel, trembling from the feeling of being stretched out. Instead of slowing down, Miguel held your waist and slammed you down on his cock. Your back arched as you let out a cry from your orgasm. He was so deep inside you. Your body felt so full that it made your brain all fuzzy. This was something knew that you weren't sure if you wanted to stop.

"Already? We still have 20 minutes until we arrive at your work. Don't give up on me now," Miguel told you as he thrusted his hips up.

        Another cry escaped your throat as you felt his tip hit your cervix. Miguel was enjoyed this by the lick of his lips. He demanded that you started moving. That hungry look in his eyes every time you bounced on his cock. You felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs were shaking as each thrust made your stomach turn. Sloppy moans and cries were all you can come up with as his cock bullied your cunt. This man was going to destroy you. Feeling his hands grip your hips was a sign.

"I'll take over now," Miguel's smirk never faded, "Voy a hacerte mi juguete personal, cariño. No tendrás que preocuparte por llegar tarde al trabajo si tu trabajo es mi polla dentro de ti. (I'm going to make you my personal toy, sweetheart. You won't need to worry about being late to work if your job is my cock inside you.)" He whispered in your ear.

        Whatever he said made your body shiver in delight. Miguel moved you against the car seat, slamming his hips into yours. He held your waist up, enjoying the view. Your lewd expressions were one of a kind. The way your boobs bounced with every thrust and how your body twitched when he pounded you were delightful. He could soak in every fiber of your being. You were his new favorite. Feeling your hole suck him made his smirk widen more.

        He moved your legs above his shoulders, enjoying your cried of pleasure as he ventured further inside you. His cock twitched as he neared his orgasm, wanting you to reach yours first. He leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth while his thumb rubbed your clit. His ears perked up as you called his name out. Your body arched once more as he cam on his dick. Miguel chuckled as he picked up his pace. He groaned lowly, shoving himself as far back as he could, coating your walls white.

"M-Miguel....That...was amazing," You barely breathed out. Miguel fixed his hair before reaching for your cheek,

"We're not done yet. We still have 17 minutes until you reach your job...If you decide to work there anymore when I'm done with you." He chuckled darkly, thrusting his hips into once more. You let out a cry, gripping onto the car seat,

"B-But I have...to ah...w-work for...ah~" Your words fell on deaf ears. Miguel was going to fuck the idea of work out of your brain,

"You got saved by me. Whether you like it or not, you're going to be mine now."

"M-Mig-"

"Not everyone gets a chance to be the leader's pet. Enjoy my cock inside you because I'm not letting you go."

        Only a whimper could escape your lips as Miguel kept bullying his cock inside you. Your legs started to grow numb. All you could feel is Miguel. 

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

"Everyone is dismissed." Miguel spat as he finished his meeting, "Lyla, make sure Peter gets informed on what we discussed. Make sure he gets here on time next time."

"Yes, sir." Lyla said with a chip.

        Once everyone was gone and the door was shut, Miguel moved back slightly. A smirk formed against his lips as he looked down at you. You had been under his desk during the whole meeting, sucking and playing with his cock. Miguel reached out to stroke your hair, enjoying you nuzzle your head into his hand.

"You've gotten better, cariño. How naughty of you to try and distract me while working." He said with a grin. You climbed onto his lip, bringing him in for a kiss,

"At least I was early," You said with a soft whine. Miguel agreed before filling you with his dick, "Mhpm, I-I was going to...hah...ask...if we can, ah, g-go for d-dinner." You whimpered, trembling at his brutal pace. 

"¿Cena? Estoy a punto de llenarte aquí y ahora. (Dinner? I'm about to fill you up right here and now.)" 

"M-Miguel..." You moaned, holding onto him as you felt your high approaching.

        Miguel licked his lips as he watched you melt under his touch. You had been by his side for almost a year now. The family was hesitant to welcome you, but quickly did once they saw how much Miguel enjoyed your company. Needless to say, you never had to worry about being late for work again. Your job was to keep Miguel satisficed, which was a simple task since you lived with him. From dawn to dusk, Miguel used your body to fuel his lust. He liked you far more than anyone before and that was not going to change anytime soon. You belonged to Miguel now and forever.

"Say it again for me." Miguel demanded as he laid you against his desk. You cried softly as he pounded your poor pussy,

"T-Thank you for saving me,"

"Una vez más. (One more time.)"

"A-Ah~ T-Thank y-you for saving me~"

"Good girl."

[majestyeverlasting]

A Little Less Restless

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (friends to lovers)

Summary: As Bucky finds himself within the still familiarity of Brooklyn, he comes to realize that he deserves nice things. And, most of all, that he deserves you.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I haven't posted any new writing in a bit, and it feels good to be resolving that (yay me). Please enjoy this piece I wrote today. Lot's of fluff and very obvious feelings. It's been a while since I wrote something for him. <3

Three knocks sound on Bucky’s front door as his reflection stares back at him in the bathroom. He's leaning close to the mirror in careful criticism. Enough to see the green flecks in his irises. The freckles on his cheeks from being in the sun. The pricks of hair making up his scruff. Then he eases back and squares his shoulders. They fall after he releases a breath. 

He prays he doesn’t look as restless as he feels. 

The smile you give him when he answers the door carries a warmth he isn’t sure he deserves. But he takes it because that’s all he can do. Enjoy it like a man who’s been cold his whole life. By some miracle, he feels himself smiling back in that small, weighted way of his. It was a trade off of sorts, and now you’re even. No outstanding debts. 

He motions you inside with a soft please, and you study him once you’re in the foyer. In the few seconds that you’re silently observing, Bucky wishes he knew exactly why. As tender as your gaze is, heat was already rising to his cheeks. But like everything else when it comes to you, he takes it. Looks right back at you shyly, pushes his hands into his pockets, and waits. 

“Your hair’s shorter,” you finally say, smile growing wider. “Did you cut it?” 

“Cut it,” he repeats like a question, hands moving to run through it. The previous night creeps back to the forefront of his mind. 

When he’d gone for a walk to get some air and inadvertently found himself being drawn in by the red, white, and blue barber’s pole spiraling on the next block. It’d been ages since he’d gone to a professional, but walking inside to the faint scent of tobacco and aftershave made him feel as though he’d never stopped. 

“Mhm,” you hum, certain. 

The stumped look on his face vanishes like it was never supposed to be there. “I went and got it trimmed at a place called Ricky’s last night.” 

“And you forgot that quickly?” Next thing he knows, you’re wrapping him in an embrace, peeking up at him after a few seconds, “I’m teasing.” 

He squeezes you back tighter. 

It’s you who eventually pulls away, and he finds himself trailing you as you venture deeper into his apartment, eyes roving thoughtfully. A coffee table now complements the couch in the living room. The walls are no longer bare. At long last, the space was beginning to look more like a home. 

For the longest time, Bucky had only seen it as a place to rest his head after countless assignments that took him miles away. It didn’t need to be anything special, or so he thought. One of the first things you told him upon coming into his life was that he needed a constant. A place to come back to that he could make his own. That was his. He’d spent so much of his life serving other people and belonging to other people that he was finally learning what it meant to be his own. 

It was exhausting not being halfway across the world with a task to busy his mind. Brooklyn was still in comparison. A place where he could recognize street names, faces, point out buildings that used to be something else when he was a kid. And now there was you, who made being stateside worthwhile in a way he didn’t think was possible. He realized then, how much he’d deprived himself of meaningful connections outside of work. 

“It looks great in here, Buck. What’d I tell you?” Your earnesty is genuine. Makes him, as old and borderline cynical as he is, feel special. “You’re gonna have to start inviting me over more.” You shoot him a wink, and he freezes because of the weight of the implication. If you notice, you don’t say anything. 

A few months ago you’d been strangers crossing paths. Then acquaintances. Now friends who cared about each other a whole awful lot. Only, it was more obvious on your end. He kept most of his sentiments guarded, not yet ready for them to bleed out like an open wound. It didn’t help that you were always wielding a knife, coming closer and closer to cut through the wall he built around himself. 

“You can come over whenever you want,” he says. “I’m always here.” 

“When you’re not on assignment,” you add. “And I know. I just don’t want to scare you away.” 

Bucky frowns at the suggestion, but his lips eventually turn up. “Good thing you’re not a scary person,” he says, counting on earning a laugh. Something. 

And you do, right before shaking your head. “I’m serious.” 

“You couldn’t scare me away,” he assures. 

You nod slowly. “So how’ve you been?” There’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue, so he waits it out. It ends up punching him right in the gut. “You look…I don’t know.” 

It hadn’t been all too long since he’d come back from Morocco. Only a week. And it would be a while before he was sent out anywhere else. His mind was in the constant process of drifting to the type of thoughts all men sifted through when they have nothing but time. Those regarding purpose, belonging, and meaning. Not to a deep, crippling degree, but enough to make him want to spring into some sort of action. Find something to indulge in that wasn’t saving the world. 

Bucky swallows and shifts his weight. “Restless,” he offers. “Didn’t think you’d notice.” 

“I’ll always notice.” Silence stretches between the two of you and a siren wails in the distance. “Maybe we can go out tonight, just you and me. Is that something you’d wanna do?” The question sounds shy. 

What you didn’t know quite yet is that he’d probably do just about anything if it was with you. 

***

At the end of the night, it’s Bucky who pulls out his card and pays for dinner. Not even giving you the chance to think about digging into your purse. As an old tune continues playing overhead, your grateful eyes sparkle at him from across the table. 

Neither of you had dined here before. It’s one of the places Bucky said used to go by a different name and was run by a different family, Italians. You liked listening to him talk about what once was because it made you realize just how much he knew. Just how thoughtful and reverent he was when it came to the good memories he had. 

Being listened to so intently was new for him. But he enjoyed it. Especially when you’d ask questions or bring up a point he made further back in the conversation. By the time the waiter comes back around with his card and his copy of the receipt, the two of you are basking in the memory of the evening and thinking about what the rest of the night may hold. 

“This was really nice,” he says, folding his napkin and setting it aside on the table. Then his expression becomes consumed by a certain solemness. “I don’t know how well it comes across, but I need you to know that I appreciate you. A lot.”

Your heart nearly bursts. “I know, Bucky,” you promise. He still looks unconvinced, so you extend your hand face up on the table for him to take. “I know.” 

The cab ride back to his place is quiet. You hold onto his hand the whole way, relishing the feeling of his thumb tracing back and forth over your skin. It’s a gesture that says I’m here with, I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me. Brooklyn passes by in rushes of darkness peppered with light. Pedestrians walk alongside the streets, some holding hands just like the two of you. It isn’t long before the driver pulls up alongside the curb of the complex. 

It isn’t until you’re in the elevator that you’re sure that you want to stay. 

The two of you get off at the fifth floor. 

“Is it okay if I spend the night? If not, I completely understand. I know it’s such short notice,” you ramble as he’s turning his key into the door. He hopes you don’t notice the way he falters. But part of him knows you do. You don’t miss anything. Luckily for him, you’re just as fazed by your own question, holding your breath. 

It’s not until you’re inside that he graces you with an answer, “‘Course you can.”

Your shoulders drop in relief. What you’re not expecting is the laugh he tries to bite back. Maybe it was mean of him, but he liked knowing he could make you sweat. Sometimes it seemed like it was only ever you who made him openly anxious. 

“You’re terrible,” you accuse, failing at restraining a smile. “Absolutely horrible.” You’d forgotten to throw away an empty water bottle before you left, and it’s the closest thing you’re able to throw his way in retaliation. He catches it and tosses it in the trash himself. 

Mischief written all along his smile when he starts towards you. 

Partly scared and partly excited, you think to flee at the last second. After a few measly steps, you’re being pulled back into the firmness of his chest. He’s sure enough laughing now, the vibration rushing straight into your back right along with the warmth of his body. So are you. He only has one arm secured around your waist and, despite the fact that he’s not even trying, it's enough to hold you. 

“Wait, wait, wait—hold on a second!” your words come out giggly both because you’re anticipating some sort of attack, and because he’s never held you quite like this before. Unlike a normal hug, this feels like he has you rather than you having each other. It’s vulnerable. Dizzying. 

“You win, you win!” 

“What?” he laughs in surprise. His mouth is so close to your ear that you shiver. “Thought you had more fight in you than that,” there’s a playful warmth to his words. 

You shake your head in denial and relax back into him. You didn’t stand a chance of winning unless he let you, and you were more than willing to tap out early. Because even so, you were still in his arms at his mercy, and somehow that felt like the safest place to be. By the time you realize both of your laughter has faded to a thoughtful silence, he’s pressing a featherlight kiss to the shell of your ear. 

When he lowers his arm from around your waist, you turn around to face him. 

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. He suddenly looks boyish, younger. Having crawled out of whatever shell of crushing expectation and responsibility he usually resided within. 

When he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, his shoulders relax and his breaths slow. And for once, he indulges. In you. In the prospect of having someone to lean on and being leaned on in return. It’s a reminder that he’s allowed to experience nice things. To have a life to look forward to outside of lending himself to cause after cause. 

You’re soft, and warm, and everything good a person could be. He pulls away slowly after a while, blinking down at you with heavy eyelids. You’re looking right back at him like he’s the world itself. 

“Maybe you’re not so terrible,” you whisper, smiling. 

Of everything he was feeling now, restless wasn’t one of them. 

_

Thank you so much for reading! I promise I see every like, comment, and reblog and appreciate them all very much. 

To join my “taglist,” follow @taleseverlasting

[helluvapoison]

Lucifer x Imp!Reader

warnings: imp bigotry, heavy topics, lowkey angsty (happy end, i swear)

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• Secret relationship, baby!

• Let’s get into the hard part first, shall we? The discrimination of Imps isn’t something Lucifer set into motion. They helped him build Hell into what it is today—! Which is… flawed. Fuck, there’s no excuse. Know that he doesn’t condone it and he’s ashamed to admit he allowed it get this far

• That saying “history repeats itself”? Yeah, Hell isn’t immune

• It’s an elephant in the room situation when your and Lucifer’s feelings come into play. Along with the enormous power imbalance. He would never take advantage of that, by the way, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s there

• Those issues are in the beginning though. Yes, it takes a lot of time and many painful conversations but now? Undoubtedly worth it

• Lucifer is quite proud of himself for the charade he concocted. You pose as his employee! No one would question it and you could hang around as much as you like! It’s perfect, right?

• “It sounds like a shitty romcom plot.” You snort

Lucifer’s smile is unwavering, eyebrows high on his face as he awaits what he longs to hear.

“But?”

Sighing, you softly return his smile, “It’s perfect.”

• And like a shitty romcom, it is

• Naturally, there’s ups and downs

• For Lucifer, the worst is that he hates keeping you a secret. It’s not that he wants to dish it live with Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench, he’s rather private as is, he’s just so— happy! He wants to show how proud he is to be yours! Unfortunately, that would do more harm for all of Hell. Selfish as his wants might be, he wouldn’t do that. Especially if it meant putting you in danger

• Occasionally he takes you to meetings and events. You try and slip into the background, supporting him from the shadows. Even from the other side of the room, Lucifer’s eyes will find you standing amongst the other Imps. He accidentally ends up ignoring whoever’s trying to rub elbows with the King of Hell

• (Honestly, it’s a miracle no one has found you two out yet. His longing gazes are far from subtle)

• Sometimes those outings don’t end well. A blue blooded dickbag might’ve dumped their drink on you or shoved you because you were “in the way” or berated you in front of everyone. Lucifer sees red and the entire event is cut short via a demonic rage. On a positive note, his publicity goes off the charts! “King of Hell defends his people, no matter the race!”

• (A motherfucking miracle, I tell you)

• Lucifer likes to take care of you when those incidents occur. He feels guilty. For everything. Reassuring him has always easy for you in any other situation. This one just bleeds into something personal. A failure

• So, you let him take care of you. It improves his mood bit by bit. Could be pancakes! No matter the time of day, Lucifer’s go-to are pancakes. (He’ll simply die all over again if you let him feed you too) Could be a bath for the two of you to share, he loves washing you and putting a bubble beard on your face

• Sleepovers can be a tad difficult to pull off but no one disturbs him in the mornings. He loves having you in his arms all night long. Kissing your horns, forehead, eyes, nose and lips— yes, in that order— before wishing you only the sweetest dreams

• Lucifer has a rubber duck that looks uncannily like you sitting on his desk at all times

• Oh! And despite being an Imp, you’re still taller than your beloved short king. It’s slight but he adores the difference

♡ a/n: if i had a nickel for every time a blue blood fell in love with an imp, i’d have /three nickels HAHAHA

[wileys-russo]

Hey could i request a fic?

Maybe one where teenreader who plays for barça or arsenal gets a nose piercing behind alexia or leahs back ?

just putting this in the same universe and reader as stuck tiny silver flash II barça femeni x teen!r

"there is one other place i wanna go!" you piped up as jana had her car keys in hand, both her and bruna's arms laden with shopping bags as you motioned for them to follow you.

"pollito is this going to take long? i think my arms are going to fall off!" bruna groaned as you rolled your eyes. "nobody told you to buy half the clothes in here bru, sounds like a you problem." you quipped making jana snicker and her best friend kick at her with a scowl.

"what are we doing here? are you getting a hair cut?" jana questioned with a frown as you stopped outside a local salon. "oo you should get bangs! or dye it pink, or blue, or purple, or red, or-" bruna started to ramble before jana's free hand covered her mouth with a sigh.

"not exactly." you smiled innocently as both of their eyes narrowed. "why do i get the feeling we're being dragged into one of her little trouble making schemes." bruna mumbled to jana once her mouth was freed again, jana nodding tiredly in agreement as they both continued in after you.

"wait here, i won't be long." you promised as a worker guided you off and out of their sights. "should we have let her go off with a stranger? is that bad babysitting? was that responsible?" bruna questioned after a minute had passed, jana just shrugging as the two of them took a seat just outside the store on a bench in the middle of the shopping complex.

though when you finally resurfaced it confirmed her question that yes, this was in fact bad babysitting.

"dios mio what is that in your face pequeña!" you rolled your eyes as jana dropped her bags and hurried over to grab your cheeks, turning your head left and right with wide eyes.

"its just a nose stud compañero!" you brushed off both her and bruna's fussing. "how did you do this? did you forge someones signature?" jana questioned again in disbelief. "fraud is a crime pollito, you could go to prison!" bruna added on with a gasp as again your eyes rolled.

"relájese! está bien chica's. you have to be eighteen for a tattoo, sixteen for a piercing." you corrected with a grin, having been planning this for awhile now.

"they are going to kill you so i hope it was worth it pollito." bruna sighed and she didn't have to drop a name for you to know exactly who she was talking about. "i will hide it till it heals, then if they make me take it out it will not close, ningún problema." you shrugged carelessly.

"but you cannot take it out for a few weeks while it heals, sí? what about games? training? you also live with capi!" jana asked, crossing her arms and staring down at you with narrowed eyes.

"engaño." you smiled patting to your shopping bag full of makeup, patting them both on the cheek and striding off toward the exit.

"dios mio jana i was right. she has dragged us into one of her little schemes! estamos tan muertos." bruna moaned throwing her head back and dragging her hands down her face.

"hey! listen to me amiga." brunas eyes widened as jana balled her top in her fists, holding her tightly and yanking her forward so they were nose to nose, the fear obvious in both their eyes.

"the story you posted today? delete it. the ticket for the parking? burn it. the new clothes you bought? hide them. nobody can ever, ever, ever know we brought her here bruna. vale?" jana warned sternly as bruna nodded frantically and her best friend let her go as they hurried after you.

"oye, compañero i think this might be worse than when we got her and vicky drunk at bowling and they threw up everywhere." "imbécil! bruna what part of 'never speak of it again' do you not understand??"

~

you'd managed to keep your secret for a whole whopping two days by the time training rolled around, which was a god given miracle considering you lived full time with your hawk eyed captain.

careful makeup blending and a flesh colored band aid you'd cut into a tiny circle had served well to hide your new addition, making sure to keep alexia at arms length so she couldn't get close enough to really look at you.

though she was so busy preparing for the weekends match and all the media that came with the el clásico it wasn't hard to slip under her radar for once.

but there was one person you worried might be able to see through your attempted deception, and of course she was the first person you ran into that morning at training, considering she had a nose piercing of her own.

trusting you enough to find your way to the change rooms once inside alexia had left you to your own devices as she hurried off for a quick meeting with all the captains, as was tradition the last session before a game.

"bon dia pollito!" you tried not to tense as aitana appeared beside you, having parked a few cars down in the lot from alexia. "hola tana." you greeted her with a smile, quick to snap your head back forward, grateful she was on your left side and the hidden stud on your right.

the two of you made small talk about your days off as you wandered through the training complex toward the change rooms, the girl of course taking every opportunity to tease you were shorter than her, something that was not very common for the midfielder in a team full of leggy spaniards and scandi's.

but as you turned to push her away and she tried to grab you in a headlock, you gave yourself up by accident.

"espere." the smile dropped from her face and you deflated as she grabbed your jaw, tilting your head back and immediately spotting the backing of the stud in your nostril with a small gasp of surprise.

"tana!" you whined trying to pull away as her grip tightened and she shook her head before letting you go. "estúpida, is this new?" aitana questioned, sending you a warning glare not to be dishonest.

"maybe." you mumbled, giving her a smile as charming as you could muster as she hummed and went to walk off. "don't tell anyone, por favor tana por favor! i will do anything." you zipped around to block her path and begged, clasping your hands together.

"anything?" "anything, promesa! just do not tell, especially not alexia." you pleaded desperately. "vale pollito, i will keep your little secret." aitana started as you breathed out in relief.

"but, for a price." aitana smiled and the twinkle in her eyes had your guard up a little but you knew she had you against the ropes. “and what’s that?” you asked albeit apprehensively.

“no more messing with my things, no more letting mapi mess with my things, no more waking me up on the bus or the plane or the train with the ‘oh tana im bored entertain me!’, no more kicking the ball at my head or the back of my seat, no more squirting water at me and no more giving me the finger with the ‘oh look tana a bird!’. vale?” the older girl raised an eyebrow sternly as you nodded rapidly.

“vale, vale, vale. gracias!” you sighed in relief, squishing her in a hug as she chuckled and patted your back before you let her go, the two of you resuming your walk to the change rooms.

entering the change rooms you flashed a few smiles around as you sat at your cubby, pulling off your trainers and stashing them away as you rifled through your training bag trying to find the medical tape you knew was in there, your ankle a little tight today.

"bon dia pequeña mentirosa." a body dropped next to you, mapi grinning and kissing your cheek as you gagged jokingly and pushed her away, her locker next to yours.

"stop that. i will do it!" mapi rolled her eyes at your attempts to tape up your ankle, pulling your leg up onto her lap as you handed the tape. "something troubling you pollito?" mariona dropped down on your other side with a concerned frown.

"no, just a little tight today." you shook your head as now both older girls gave you a look, mapi strapping up your ankle. "está bien. if it feels off at all i will go see the physios, happy?" you looked between them as they nodded, mario messing up your hair and heading off for the pitch.

eyes roaming around the now half empty change rooms you caught aitana's eye who was talking with keira, and judging from the very slight narrow of the english womans eyes as they studied your face for a mere second or so longer than normal, you knew right away what they were discussing.

you shook your head at the midfielders, aitana sending you an apologetic smile and hurrying off before you could say anything, dragging keira along with her as you prayed to the high heavens both girls kept their mouths shut.

"what?" mapi chuckled seeing the strange look on your face, finishing up your ankle and glancing over her shoulder to try and see what you were looking at. "nothing, gracias maps." you smiled, pulling your leg back down.

"ingrid!" you called out to her girlfriend who was passing by, the norweigan raising an eyebrow as you held up a hair brush and smiled charmingly. "you could not have asked alexia at home?" ingrid chuckled as mapi kissed her cheek briefly and headed off to the pitch.

"alexia cannot even do her own hair, takes her about half an hour to slick it up into a ponytail." you rolled your eyes as ingrid started to brush through your hair, a comfortable silence falling between both of you as the rest of the team slowly filtered out.

"the baby can't do her own hair? awww." lucy teased, playfully kicking at your ankles with a grin as you tried to grab at her but winced as ingrid tugged on your hair in warning, still halfway through braiding it.

"oni!" you called out to your friend who turned around. "your girlfriend needs her leash and collar, she's acting out again." you sniped, lucy squaring up to you before ona rolled her eyes and pulled her away, chatsizing her quietly as lucy sent you a menacing glare as you gav her a fake scared face.

"you need to stop hanging around with maría so much liten, she is a bad influence." ingrid tapped your shoulders as she finished your hair. "she's your girlfriend!" you laughed as you stood, tucked into her side as the taller girls arm draped across you.

"i know, and every day she gives me reason to question why." ingrid sighed as you bumped into her. "no way, you two are so in love its disgusting." you gagged as ingrid playfully reached round to pinch your cheek.

"you will be in love one day liten, and i will be sure to remind your future partner that you think love is disgusting!" ingrid teased, letting go of you as you both smiled and gave a good morning to the social media admin filming the training arrivals.

"how do you know i'm not in love now? or that i will need a future partner?" you gave her a cheeky smile as her eyes widened. "are you-" you'd raced off before she could ask her question, the girl yelling after you that this conversation wasn't over.

"hola!" you launched yourself and near took jana down to the ground, her hands grabbing your thighs and hoisting you up into a proper piggyback with a grunt.

"i was thinking things were too quiet pollito, i was hoping you were sick and we might get a day off from babysitting." jana sighed dramatically as you scoffed. "babysitting! you need babysitting not me." you accused making her chuckle.

"i have to say pollito, you did a good job. if i did not know that you had the stud, i would not notice." bruna marvelled as jana promptly dropped you and grabbed the pair of you by the shirt, dragging you away from the rest of the group.

"what part of we do not speak of it did you not understand? nobody can know we took her there or that we knew about the stud!" jana warned bruna sternly who huffed and tried to pray her hands off her top.

"and you will not tell a soul we knew about it amiga, vale?" jana turned to you now, letting go of bruna and raising an eyebrow when you didn't speak, a roll of your eyes and a nod following.

"perfecta. remember compañero's, when in doubt; deny, deny, deny."

~

now your makeup and band aid combo may have done the trick for training, nobody batting so much as an eyelid of suspicion toward you.

but what you hadn't accounted for was your teammates being...themselves.

case in point; the water fight which broke out after training was finished.

you didn't think much of it at first, ducking out of the way of mapi's attack and launching your own on cata, laughing as patri and pina used you as a human shield, spraying lucy and mario over your shoulder as you copped the brunt of their own counter attack.

"vale! that is enough for today." alexia yelled out over the squabbles, though there was a hint of a smile on her face and you hadn't missed her spray her own bottle at a few of the younger girls when they weren't looking.

distracted by the feeling of your now soaking wet training top clinging uncomfortably to your body you snatched a towel off mapi, drying your face and arms and not giving it a second though.

that was when there was a tiny silver flash as your stud caught the sun and all hell broke loose.

"what is that?!" "a piercing?!" "who did that to you?!" "what did you put in your face?!" "you put a hole in your skin?!" "who said you could do that pollito?!"

your eyes widened at the questions fired at you one after the other, shrinking into yourself and starting to back away as the older girls advanced, mouths moving at rapid pace.

"don't you dare!" paños grabbed the back of your collar, snagging you as you tried to bolt, a hiss of pain leaving your mouth as alexia grabbed your ear next, dragging you inside and all sorts of angry spanish leaving her mouth.

"sit!" alexia pushed you to sit down at your cubby, flanked by ingrid, paños, irene and frido all glaring down at you. "when?" irene asked sternly as you huffed. "when what." you tried, the stony glares causing your stomach to flip.

"acting cute won't get out out of this one älska. the truth! now." frido warned sternly as you sighed, catching a few of the younger girls watching on curiously, but they all scattered as alexia met them with a hard stare.

"i got it on monday." you answered, looking down at the ground and pulling one knee to your chest, picking at your laces. "where?" alexia asked sharply. "a hair salon." you shrugged still refusing to look up but feeling their eyes burn into you.

"why?" ingrid questioned next. "looks cool and i can." you mumbled with a roll of your eyes. "don't you roll your eyes, drop the attitude." alexia warned as you huffed and mocked her quietly under your breath, whining as her hand smacked the back of your head.

"that hurt!" you rubbed it with a scowl as she now rolled her own eyes. "cannot have hurt more than putting a needle through your face pequeña." irene added on with a scoff as you fell silent again.

"i think it looks badass pollito." pina piped up from a few seats down, paling at the looks it earned her and hurrying over to hide behind patri.

"sí i agree, makes her look tough. which is hard with this cute little baby face!" mapi cooed as she appeared now, pinching your cheeks and admiring the small stud with a nod of approval that had you grinning.

"maría! stay out of it." alexia barked as the girl rolled her eyes, one of the few who wasn't scared (most times) of your fierce captain. "why? she is sixteen now. i had ear piercings at five!" mapi brushed off the issue ignoring her girlfriends eyes baring into her.

"ear sí, not face!" alexia scoffed crossing her arms across her chest. "its not like i got a forehead piercing, so dramatic." you muttered, shrinking and shuffling across a little closer to mapi at the glares which met it

"would you like to say that a little louder?" ingrid sent you a challenging look as her girlfriend wrapped an arm around you. "leave the nena be, it is one little stud. relajarse!" mapi waved them off again.

"who took you to get it nena? you do not drive." paños asked firmly as you couldn't help but let your eyes flicker briefly to jana and bruna who were frantically shaking their heads and waving their arms about. "deny, deny, deny!" jana mouthed at you.

but all it took was that brief millisecond for irene's head to snap around, catching both younger girls in the act as they froze. "you went shopping with the idiotas on monday!" alexia realised as now her head snapped around.

"we didn't know she was gonna do it we took our eyes off her for like a minute and she came back with it! promesa!" bruna blurted out as jana winced and smacked her hand against her forehead.

"you are the worst secret keeper ever!" jana hissed, both of them sprinting off as paños and irene chased after them. "you are taking it out älska." frido stated bluntly as you frowned. "no way!" you protested with a shake of your head.

"yes way. we can do this the easy way or the hard way älska, your choice." the swede warned as alexia and ingrid hummed their agreement and seeing them start to advice mapi's arm left you and she slid slowly away.

"mapi!" you gasped as she darted away. "traitor and a coward!" you yelled after her as she made a heart with her hands and hid behind lucy who rolled her eyes and pushed her away.

"easy or hard nena, choose." alexia warned firmly as you shook your head. "its not coming out, i paid for this!" you decided firmly, standing and holding your head high, hearing a few of the other girls whistle and shake their heads at your words.

"you get her legs, i get her arms, ale takes it out." frido instructed, all three girls nodding as you attempted a getaway, trying to climb up and over the small retaining wall of your cubby but being promptly dragged back down and restrained.

"did you even wash your hands! this is unsanitary alexia i could get an infection!" you yelled trying to squirm away but with no luck as alexia held your head still with one hand and you winced as with one little twist she'd plucked the stud from your nose.

"when we get home i'm searching your room for any other studs and they are being flushed down the toilet. get your bag!" alexia warned as you kicked away ingrid and frido with a scowl. "you're both on my list." you warned seriously, cata and salma oooohing at your words.

"you don't scare us liten." ingrid laughed unbothered, frido mirroring her expression with a smirk. "remember when mario lost an eyebrow? she was on my list." you spoke calmly, packing your belongings up.

"or when pina's cubby had that awful ant infestion? or patris car tyres kept magically deflating? also on my list." you slung your bag over your shoulder, smiling at the somewhat apprehensive looks now present on the tall scandis face.

"adios, traitors." you patted their shoulders as you passed, following after alexia. "pollito are we still on for-" mapi fell silent as your head whipped toward her. "you are also on the list, maría." you warned calmly, narrowing your eyes.

"i helped you create that list!" mapi gasped in disbelief. "sí, and now the student has become the master." you pointed at her menacingly, alexia growing impatient and grabbing you by the straps of your bag hauling you out of the change room.

"vamos pequeña, stop threatening everyone." alexia chuckled dragging you out with her to the carpark as you waved goodbye to a few of the staff, the older girl amused at how quickly your demeanor changed.

"they were not threats, they were promises." you huffed with a deep frown, kicking at a rock. "are you going to be moody and pouty all afternoon over a tiny little stud? estúpida." alexia cooed as you glared at her, sliding into the now unlocked cupra and tossing your bag in the back.

"do you want to be on the list ale?" you warned, shrinking at the fierce glare which it rewarded you with. "discúlpame?" the blonde asked scarily calm with a raised eyebrow. "nothing, lo siento." you mumbled sinking into her seat as she smirked and started up the car.

"buena nena, thats what i thought you said."

[just-jordie-things]

dreams to be desired - fushiguro megumi

word count: 7.3k warnings: swearing, implied smut (smutty without being smut bc i'm shy) summary: you know megumi dreams about you, but he’s still too reserved to make the first move.  oh well, you’ll just take matters into your own hands. more info: all characters are aged up! jujutsu tech is a college in this fic

It was getting warm in the small dorm, and if Megumi thought twice about it he might have been uncomfortable with his shirt sticking to his back, but any thoughts of getting up to turn on his fan went out the window as a gentle pair of hands grabbed the offending material and teasingly began to lift.

(y/n’s) giggling was soft enough in his ear that he almost couldn’t hear it over the deafening sound of his own heart pounding.  He tried to steady his breath so that he could better focus on the girl in front of him.

It was a miracle that she was here, sitting before him in his own bed.  He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve her presence at this time of night, but upon feeling the cool pads of her fingertips tracing upwards over his abdomen, he let the thought disappear with that of the fan across the room.

“Your skin’s hot,” She murmurs, her lips still close to his ear, before she leans back to look at him.  “Maybe this should come off, hm?” She asks, tugging further on his tee shirt.

Reaching one hand behind his back, he made great haste in pulling the shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor without a glance.  The sudden burst in confidence wasn’t like Megumi, but deep down he knew this was a rare opportunity, and he wasn’t about to waste a single minute.

(y/n) grins in amusement, which slowly fades into a smirk as her eyes wander down his exposed chest.  She leans forward on her knees, her eyes slowly falling shut, but before she could plant her lips on his, his hands stop her.

Her eyes open suddenly, brow raised in curiosity as to why in the world he would stop her.  He’s smiling at her.

She looks down at his hands on her waist, fingers tracing the lacy edges of her tank top.

“Your turn,” He murmurs, azure eyes trailing slowly down to where his hands held her shirt- if you could even call it that.  The thin black fabric left very little to the imagination, and yet his heart was racing as his hands slowly slid under the fabric, curling around her waist.  “Fair’s fair”

She’s giggling again, and Megumi wonders briefly if it’s possible to get drunk off of a sound.

“I ‘spose I can’t argue with that”

He’s heard that teasing lilt in her voice before, that false saccharine that makes him second guess his every move, his every word.  Normally he’d fluster, turn away with a ‘tch’ and hope that his dismissal was enough to make her leave him alone, so that he could hide his red tinted ears that always gave him away before the blush on his cheeks.

Tonight he doesn’t shy away from her playfulness.  Instead, his lips curl into an almost devious grin as she follows his command.

She shoos his hands away from her waist, taking the hem of her shirt in her hands and pulling the fabric upwards in a tantalizingly slow motion.  Megumi’s tempted to rip the fabric clean over her head in one foul swoop, but he bites his lip and does his best to remain patient.

If she wanted to make a whole show of it, then who was he to rush things? He’d waited this long for his shot with her, it would be silly for him to complain about how slowly she took her clothes off.

Besides, to his amusement, he finally got to see what her preferred color of lingerie was.

Pink.

He had to admit, he was a little surprised.  His mouth watered.

She’s wearing her own grin as she finally clutches the skimpy tank top in one hand, letting it fall to the ground to be forgotten with his own shirt.

Megumi lets himself marvel at her beautiful, perfect, angelic body for just a moment longer.  Slowly, his hooded eyes trail up her torso , creeping over every inch of exposed skin and lacy pink fabric until they meet hers.

Without a second longer wasted, the pair dart towards one another, lips colliding in a heated kiss.  His hands wander everywhere they can reach, warm palms leaving goosebumps in their wake.  He’s humming, almost purring, contentedly into her mouth with every soft patch of skin that he’s able to touch.

Her hands reach for his chest again, smoothing over his collarbones before trailing down, down, slower with every passing second.  He’d never pegged her for such a tease, or perhaps she was just trying to take in as much of him as he was of her.  Her hands finally pause just above his trousers, fingers just barely hooking into the fabric.  Just enough to make him shudder at the thought of them traveling further.

“(y/n/n)...” He murmurs, lips tracing up her jaw on one side, the other side cupped securely in his large hand to keep her in place.

“What?”

“(y/n)...” He voices again, reaching a tender spot just below her ear.

“What?” She asks again, beginning to laugh.  But it wasn’t her previous flirty giggle, it was a boisterous cackle.  A masculine one.

Megumi retreats from her neck, his brows in a knot.

“Did you say (y/n)?” She asks, but it’s most certainly not her voice.

In fact, it’s clearly Yuuji’s. ___

Megumi shoots upright in bed, chest heaving from the harsh awakening.  And to his dismay, there was Yuuji, bent over and cackling so hard his face was red.

“Have a nice sleep?” Yuuji asks when he finally catches his breath.  He brings a hand to his face to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“I was,” Megumi grumbled.  “What’re you doing in my room?”

“Well, I came to see if you wanted to go on a run with me,” Yuuji says, plopping himself into Megumi’s desk chair, swiveling back and forth like a child.  “You didn’t answer the door, figured I’d wake you up, you don’t usually sleep in.  But you must’ve been reeaall comfortable”

He’s grinning so wide that Megumi’s surprised his face doesn’t split right in two.

“Shut up” He muttered, dropping back down onto his pillow.

“(y/n/n), ooh, (y/nnn),” Yuuji mimics.  “You said her name a lot”

Megumi grabs the sides of his pillow with his fists and closes it tightly against his ears.  It’s not enough to drown out Yuuji’s voice in the slightest.

“I knew you had a thing for her.  I can’t wait to see her reaction when I tell her you were having a wet dream about her,” He giggles, and despite all his teasing, his cheeks were flushed pink at the thought.

“Don’t you dare” The annoyed boy growls, dropping his pillow and sitting up again to properly glare at his so-called friend.

“Oh come on, she’d love it!” Yuuji exclaims.  “She has a thing for you too.  Wouldn’t be surprised if she’s had her fair share of steamy dreams about you”

Megumi rolls his eyes.  Of all the possible people that could have walked in to hear him muttering her name in his sleep, Yuuji was probably the worst possible choice.

Why couldn’t it have been Inumaki? At least he wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone.

“So, a run?” Yuuji asks.

Megumi grabs his pillow from behind it and chucks it at him.  Yuuji dodges with ease.

“That a no?”

“Get out”

When he’s gone, Megumi collapses back into his mattress, hiding his face in his hands and groaning.

This is what he gets for enjoying something for once.  He can’t even have a scrap of peace in his dreams. ___

“(y/n)! Nobara!”

Yuuji jogs to catch up with his classmates who had just been wandering towards the front gates.  Both girls stopped in their tracks, turning to see their pink haired friend breaking into a sprint.

“Why’s he running so fast?” (y/n) asks.

“I don’t know.  But it’s too late to out run him now” Nobara mutters, placing her hands on her hips as she glares at their approaching classmate.

(y/n) hums in agreement.

When Yuuji finally gets within hearing range, she calls out to him.

“I thought you were going to run with Megumi?”

“Oh, he was not in the mood” Yuuji laughs as if it was an inside joke.

(y/n) and Nobara shared a look, each telling the other not to ask what was so funny, for the sake of time.  Sometimes the things Yuuji found funny didn’t make sense, and it was just better to go along with it.

“Well, we’re not in the mood either,” Nobara speaks up.  “We’re going shopping”

“You can come if you want,” (y/n) offers kindly, earning a side glare from Nobara.  “But we’ll be out all day.  Might be worth it to wait around to hang with Megumi instead”

“I don’t think he’s going to speak to me for the rest of the day,” Yuuji shakes his head.  “Maybe the rest of time,” He mutters.

Both girls don’t really react.  It wasn’t unlike Megumi to be pouting and dishing out the silent treatment to Yuuji.  Or anyone, really.

“But he’d probably still speak to you (y/n)” He adds with a high pitched lilt to his voice.

(y/n’s) brows furrow.

“Huh?”

Yuuji does a little shoulder shimmy that only furthers her confusion.

(y/n’s) eyes slide over to Nobara, hoping the short haired girl would provide some insight to their friend’s weird, weird antics.  But she only rolls her eyes and scoffs.

“Spit it out, Itadori” Nobara barks.

Yuuji giggles, hiding his grin behind his hand as he stares at (y/n), who’s growing increasingly concerned for his well being.

Maybe I should hang out with him more, she thinks.  Is he not getting enough attention..?

“I can’t tell,” He says, still squealing behind his hands.  “But it’s juicy!”

(y/n) blinks, wondering where in the world Yuuji got hot gossip from.  Not that he didn’t have friends, anyone who’s ever met him was his friend.  But there weren’t exactly a lot of people at Jujutsu Tech, and everyone got along fairly well.  So juicy gossip was hard to come by.

(The closest thing that ever came to it was when Panda caught Maki blushing over a photo of Yuta, but as soon as he dared tease her for it, he was on the ground.  So that was deemed off limits)

“Spill!” Nobara darted forward, grabbing Yuuji by the shoulders.  “Spill! Now!”

“I told you! I can’t!” Yuuji shrieked.

Nobara grimaced, and began to shake him by the shoulders at a dangerous speed, sending his head knocking back and forth.

“If you don’t tell me the juicy gossip right now I’ll murder you!” She threatened.  “Is it about me!?”

Yuuji grumbled noises of protest until she stopped shaking him.  His eyes blinked heavily as he tried to fight the dizziness that washed over him.

“I think ‘m gonna be sick” He muttered, holding a hand to his head.

(y/n) frowned, stepping forward and raising his head to check his eyes.

“You’re fine,” She told him with certainty.  “But you better fess up before she freaks out.  What’d you hear?”

“Is it bad?” Nobara asks, her lips curling into a frown, (y/n) looks over at her, wondering the same thing.  Why else would he be so weird about spilling the beans that he brought up first? “Are people talking shit about me?”

“Are people talking shit about her?” (y/n) whips her head around at lightning speed, and her fists grab the collar of his uniform, dragging him in close.  Close enough that he can see the violent glint in her eye that she usually only gets when she’s taking down a curse.  He swallows thickly, never having been so intimidated by the normally sweet girl.

“N-no!” Yuuji shakes his head rapidly.  “No one’s talking shit about anyone!”

(y/n) drops her hands from his shirt and takes a step backwards so she was out of his personal space.

“Oh” Nobara mumbles, almost sounding disappointed.  (y/n) and Yuuji share a confused look, before (y/n) gets back on track.

“Then what is so juicy that you’re giggling?”

Yuuji’s bubbly laughter returns as he remembers what he was so giddy about in the first place.  (y/n’s) eye twitches with impatience.

“Someone has a crush on you” He sing-songs.

(y/n) blinks wide, almost owlishly so, slowly processing his words.

A crush?

“Ohmygosh!” Nobara squeals, suddenly sounding just like Yuuji.  She bounces on her feet and nearly pushes (y/n) aside to get up in his face.  “Who! Who! Who!?”

This time when she grabs him by the shoulders to shake him, Yuuji is quick to pry her hands off.

A crush on me? (y/n) ponders to herself.  As intrigued as she was, her heart sinks a little bit as an awkward feeling spreads throughout her stomach.  Guilt, perhaps.  The feeling surely crept around her insides like guilt did.  I already have feelings for someone, she winced.  And those feelings are definitely not going anywhere anytime soon.

“It wouldn’t be right if I-”

“Itadori Yuuji if you don’t tell me right now I’ll kill you!”

“Would you stop threatening me?” Yuuji shrieked.

“Then stop baiting us and spill-!”

“Nobara,” (y/n) spoke, catching both of her friends’ attention.  “It’s okay,” She says.  “He doesn’t have to say anything”

“What!?” Nobara and Yuuji squawk in unison.

“I don’t need to know,” (y/n) shrugged lamely.  “It’s fine”

“Seriously?” Nobara gawks.  “Someone’s in love with you and you’re not dying to know who?”

“I didn’t say that exactly” Yuuji mumbled under his breath.

“No,” (y/n) replies nonchalantly.  “I don’t need to know.  Clearly they don’t want me to, so it’s not my business, right?”

“No!” Nobara hollered.  “It’s all of our business!”

(y/n) chuckles to herself at her friend’s bewilderment.  She supposed it made sense.  Anyone who’s heart wasn’t spoken for would have happily accepted the news of a secret admirer.

“You made it our business,” Nobara glared Yuuji down, shoving her finger into his chest.  “And if you don’t tell us right now who (y/n’s) little valentine is then I’ll-”

“Yeah yeah, you’ll rip my throat out,” Yuuji put his hands up in defeat.  “Look, all that’s fair of me to say, is I caught him this morning when I was trying to have a running buddy,”

That piqued (y/n’s) interest, and suddenly she was all ears to what Yuuji had to say.  Because to her knowledge, Yuuji had only visited one person this morning.

“But he was fast asleep.  Like a baby.  A little baby dreaming and moaning, (y/n/n), oh (y/n/n)...” He trailed off making kissy faces while Nobara’s jaw dropped open.

“No way Megumi had a sexy dream about (y/n)!” She screeched.

Yuuji could have sworn he saw birds flee from trees upon the high pitched scream.

“I said I couldn’t say!” Yuuji declared, raising his hands in innocence.  

“But you did,” Nobara accused, a wicked grin on her face.  “That’s fucking crazy! I can’t believe Megumi’s got a thing for you!”

She spun around on her heel, curious towards (y/n’s) reaction.

“Yeah, wh-who knew…” (y/n) mumbled, eyes glazed over as she was clearly somewhere else at the moment.

Nobara and Yuuji glanced at each other, indulging in an excited look.

Surprise, excitement, nervousness, desire, happiness, all these emotions hit (y/n) like a truck.

Megumi had a dream about me? A sexy dream? The thought made her stomach flood with butterflies.  

“But that- that doesn’t mean he has feelings for me,” (y/n) stammers out, finally looking over to her friends, as if waiting for them to confirm with her.  “Right? I mean, anyone can have, uh, wet dreams.  It’s not like you have control over them”

Nobara rolls her eyes.  “Don’t be stupid”

Yuuji giggles some more.  “Only one way to find out!”

“What’s that?” (y/n) asks.

“By messing with him!” ___

With the plan of shopping officially scrapped, (y/n) wipes her clammy palms on the front of her uniform skirt.  As fun as the idea was at first, now that it was in motion, she thought she could puke.

It’s just the butterflies, she tells herself.  She’s never really been a shoot-your-shot kind of girl, rather a hope-they-can-feel-me-staring-and-that’s-enough-to-let-them-know-I’m-interested type.

“That’s idiotic!” Maki had barked in response.

(y/n) wasn’t sure when Maki and Toge had gotten roped into this, but here they were, involved, in… whatever this was.  A trap?

It was sort of a trap, she supposed, just not the fun kind that resulted in exorcizing a curse.  The nerve wracking kind, where she had to go persuade Megumi into making a move without giving away that Yuuji blabbed his fat mouth.

“(y/n), listen to me carefully,” Maki said, in the sweetest voice (y/n) had ever heard from her.

The intimidating woman placed her hands on her shoulders, and crouched over enough to look her directly in the eyes.  All of the contact made her fluster and her face feel hot.

Fuck.  If I fluster this much now, how am I supposed to seduce Megumi into admitting he has feelings for me? God, I’m such a fool, I should put a stop t this before I can’t turn back-

“You’re hot,” Maki states, matter-of-factly.  “You’re the hottest person here,”

Nobara scoffed, earning a swat to the back of the head from Yuuji.

“And anyone would be so lucky to have sex dreams about you,” Maki continued.  Every word boosted (y/n’s) confidence, but the butterflies in her stomach continued their ruthless crusade.  “And men are stupid.  Especially Megumi.  He’s stupid for not making a move.  And now you have to make him pay, understand?”

(y/n) gulped, and nodded her head.

“So.  Be a big girl.  Hike up your skirt and unbutton your shirt.  Then go seduce the hell out of him”

(y/n) nods again, fingers readily undoing the top button of her uniform, revealing her collarbone.

“Are we sure that I can’t just ask him on a date?” She asks.

“Tch,” Maki’s lips curled into a devilish smirk.  She reached forward, grabbing the second button of (y/n’s) shirt and in a swift motion popped it open too.

Did she have first hand experience in seduction or something? (y/n) wondered as she stared down at the tease of skin that was exposed.  Just a little bit of cleavage, she supposed just enough to make someone want to see more.

“This is much more fun.  Yeah?” Maki asked, followed by a wink.

(y/n) let out a shaky breath.

“Fine,” She agreed, earning quiet cheers from the group of friends who were here to support this ridiculous plan.  “Okay.  I’m gonna go do it” She said, more to herself than anyone else.  And with that, she spun on her heel and headed off to find her target.

As she wandered the campus, she tried to keep her thoughts confident.  She was beautiful, and she knew it,  but that didn’t mean her confidence was always at it’s peak.

Maybe Gojo would have been a good person to get confidence advice from, she thought briefly, but it was too late now to track down her teacher.  The plan was in motion, and she needed to see it through before she could chicken out.

Besides, she was curious about this dream of Megumi’s, and if this was how she was going to get answers, so be it!

She finally found him just as she was heading out of the school, he just so happened to be jogging up the stairs.

The seduction plan left her mind for a moment, replaced with more innocent thoughts of how cute he looked in his casual clothes.  She especially liked when he wore a plain white button up and trousers, as simple as it was, it just looked striking on him.

“Hey, (y/n),” Megumi greeted upon nearing the top of the steps where she stood.  

His eyes noticeably widened for a moment, taking in the shorter length of her skirt that showcased her long legs (did they even have an end?) and was her shirt unbuttoned more than usual?

“You goin’ out?” He asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

“No, actually,” (y/n) replied, and reminded herself what it was she was after.  “I was actually looking for you”

“Oh?” Megumi hums, tucking his hands in his pockets.  “Well, you found me”

He’s standing just a couple steps from the top, so he’s just about eye level with her.  Boldly, (y/n) takes a step forward, closing a significant amount of space between them, leaving only a few inches of room between her body and his.  

“I like that shirt on you, you know,” She says, doing her best to keep her voice even, and surprisingly, it was well.

Megumi had to hold his breath to keep himself from choking on air.  She liked how he looked?

“I think it makes you look taller” She adds, gaining a little more confidence in her words.

“Maybe you’re just short enough that I always look taller?” Megumi replies, but his voice is just a little more quiet than he means it to be.

Was he nervous? Was this little stunt actually working?

“You might be right” She smiles.

“Is that why you were looking for me?” He asked, raising a brow.  “To compliment me?”

She lets out a little giggle, and the sound instantly brings back images from his dream last night.  It sounded nearly identical to the hazy, flirty giggles she’d made in his subconscious.

Thinking about that now makes his stomach drop and his face suddenly feel warm.  He hopes- no- prays that he’s not blushing right now.  To any deity that would listen.

“No, you just distracted me, s’all,” She finally answers him.

Megumi’s holding his breath again. He distracted her? When she’s standing there looking like that?

“I was looking for you because I could use some help with a history assignment, and I know you’re the go-to.  Do you have a minute?”

Even if he was overwhelmingly busy, he still would have nodded his head and happily spent the rest of the night helping her with her studies.

“Yeah, sure” He says with a kind smile.

(y/n) grins ear to ear.

“Perfect,” She says.  “Come with me”

With that, she’s grabbing his wrist and pulling him behind her.  He stumbles for a second, surprised from the contact and sudden control she took over him.

He’s not sure he’s ever really touched her, beyond some training, or maybe if they were squeezed next to each other on the couch for movie night.  But having her pulling on his arm as she leads him who knows where had his heart racing more than it probably should have.

She brings him all the way to the library, which is empty seeing as it’s a weekend and everyone is doing anything but studying right now.  He’s sure most of their classmates aren’t even on campus.

“What’s the assignment for, again?” Megumi asks.

“The Paranormal of the Middle Ages,” (y/n) replies, which isn’t a lie, she does have to write a paper, but it’s not due for another few weeks.  Normally she wouldn’t get started on it until the week it’s due.  

History is her best subject after all.

“Any recommendations on where to start?”

She finally drops his hand, turning to look at him.  She’s still awfully close, he has to tilt his head down to meet her gaze, which he quickly turns away from, scanning the bookshelves.

“Uh, actually, yeah I do,” He says sheepishly.  “Here, follow me”

She follows the command, and keeps up with his quick strides to the corner where the history books were stocked.

When he gets to the shelf he was looking for, he quickly scans along the spines of books to find the one he’d read just a few months ago.

“Looking for something specific?” (y/n) asks, standing close by his side.

His eyes barely meet hers before returning to the books, unable to look at her when she’s this close.  

Does she even realize? She’s not usually like this, right?

“Yeah, I actually read something I read not too long ago.  It’ll do for your report, but, uhm, you might actually like it”

“A personal recommendation,” (y/n) muses with a smile.  “I’m sure to like it then”

He finally finds the text he was looking for and he thanks the stars he did because his head was starting to feel dizzy and light from her sweet perfume lingering around him.  Despite how cloudy it made his head, he hoped the scent lingered on him later.

“There you are,” He says, plucking the book from the shelf and handing it to her.

(y/n) steps even closer, and he hesitates on the thought of stepping back, but ultimately decides he’d be an idiot if he didn’t entertain every second of having her this close to him.

When she takes the book from him, her fingers brush over his for just long enough that it couldn’t have been accidental, but he’s too consumed by his own nerves to call her on it.

“It- uh- it should have everything, I don’t think y-you’d need another one, for the report,” He’s stammering, and she looks up at him, still smiling.  Was she enjoying this? Was this on purpose? “Unless you want? Do you need more than one source?”

He knows that she heard him, but she just stands there, her eyes flickering between his curiously.  Was she reading him? Is that what this was? Some test? She wanted information out of him?

He was so busy investigating this little act, if he could even call it that, that he almost missed her setting the book back on the shelf.

“Megumi,” His name falls off of her lips, in almost a coo it’s so quiet.  “Are you nervous?”

No, of course not! He wants to deny right away, but she’s peering up at him from under those long lashes of hers, and she smells so good that he thinks he’s already putty in her hands, and it would be useless to try to convince her of anything else.

“What are you doing?” He asks instead, in a hushed voice as if there was anyone who could overhear.

But again, it’s a Saturday, and they’re in a library, completely alone.

(y/n) turns, biting her lip to keep herself from smiling too much.  She leans back against the bookcase casually, before shrugging her shoulders.

“Can I tell you something personal, Megumi?” She asks, softly, because he leans in a bit closer when she whispers, and she likes having him too close to her.  “It’s a little embarrassing,” She says, smiling down at the ground.

He steps closer, nodding his head.  He reaches a clammy palm to the back of his neck, anxiously rubbing the spot.

“It’s silly, but I thought you might be able to help,” She says, tilting her head to the side as she looks up at him again, wanting to watch his every reaction to what she was going to say next.  “There’s a guy” She whispers, even softer than before.

Fuck.  Seriously? She wants boy advice? Megumi mentally face-palms.  He has to fight to keep his expression neutral.  I thought for a second there she could have been coming onto me.  Clearly she just wanted advice from a friend.

“A guy?”

She nods, not breaking eye contact with him.

“Yeah, a guy,” She sighs.  “And I really like him.  I can’t stop thinking about him, it’s driving me crazy” She lets her eyes flutter shut, her head falling back, pushing against the books behind her.

Megumi’s eyes wander the features of her face, and he feels ridiculous for thinking about how perfect she looks, even more angelic than she had in his dreams.  How could she stand here, and look this good, smell this good, and talk to him about how some guy makes her feel.

“You- uh… you sure you don’t want to talk to Kugisaki about this?” He asks, and starts to brush past her to leave.  “I’ll go find her”

(y/n’s) hand grabs his wrist before he can walk away, and her grip isn’t strong at all, but it’s enough to make him stand before her.

“No,” She hums.  “Talking to her won’t really help me, I don’t think”

Why the hell am I the go-to? Megumi thinks.  We’ve never once talked about this stuff.  Anyone would be better to confide in than me.  

But he lets out a breath and nods, staying put in front of her.

“Fine,” He mumbles.  “What is it then? You want to ask him out or something?”

A beam spreads over (y/n’s) lips.

“Sort of.  Not exactly,” She says, her eyes trailing away from his, daring to land on his pink lips for a few seconds too long for it to be discreet.

Unconsciously, and anxiously, Megumi licks his dry lips and hopes she would get this over with quickly.  He’s so close to her, and with her back to the bookshelf, he feels increasingly more tempted to close the last of the distance between them, shove her back into the shelf and kiss her senseless.

He shifts on his feet, trying to think of anything but that.

“I kind of want to make him squirm first,” She admits.

You’ve already got that mastered, Megumi thinks, only sort of bitterly.

“See, he’s really been on my mind, Megumi,” She sighs, and he wants to scowl at her for saying his name like that, like she was out of breath.

Against his will, his dream resurfaces in his mind.

His eyes glance down to her mouth, turned into a little pout.

“It’s been distracting, honestly.  I can’t go a minute without thinking about him, I can’t focus on work, or training.  I was supposed to go shopping with Nobara today, ya’know,”

Curse her for saying things that should be breaking his heart, but the look on her face is all too enticing for him to walk away from.  He’s trying not to frown, but the more she talks about how this guy has occupied her every thought, the more stormy he feels.

I’ll have to get a name out of her so I can find him and scare the shit out of him, a lightbulb blinks over Megumi’s head.  Surely he’s not deserving of all this attention she’s giving him anyways.  No guy deserves a girl like her.

“I think I’m getting off track,” (y/n) giggles again, and Megumi’s eyes snap back to hers.  He realizes he’s been staring at her lips for far too long, and heat crawls up his neck.  “What the real problem is I can’t even escape him in my sleep” She says.

The heat in his neck and face is replaced instantly with ice cold fear.

“Like- like in your dreams?” He stammers, more nervous now than he had been during this entire interaction.

(y/n) nods slowly, keeping her eyes on his.

“Yeah,” She mumbles.  “Like in my dreams,”

How could she have known? Yuuji? Would he have really told her? No, maybe he didn’t, maybe this is just coincidence.

A small smirk tugs at the corner of her lips, and then she’s leaning forward, pushing onto the tips of her toes to reach impossibly closer to him.

His eyes, blown wide, follow her every movement, until she’s hovering just before him, the tip of her nose almost brushing into his.

“Thing is,” She murmurs, cool, strawberry mint breath fanning over his lips, and he has to fight his own eyes to stay open.  “I know he thinks about me too,”

His fingers twitch at his sides, dying to reach out and grab her by her hips, like it was the sole purpose of his hands.

Her cruel eyes rest on his lips, because she can’t help herself.  They’re pink, and look plush, and she can only imagine how amazing they’d feel against her own, against her skin, anywhere he’d like to place them, she’d surely let him without any fight.

She lets her gaze meet his slowly, letting him know exactly where she was looking, and exactly what she was thinking.

Megumi thinks he’s never felt so much pent up tension in his life.

“But I just can’t seem to get him to make a damn move,” She finishes her thought while she tries to pick out every shade of blue in his irises, which are nearly blown by his pupils.

(y/n) thinks she’s never felt so in need in her life.

She’s glad that she talked her friends out of spying on this little scheme, instead talking them into an all day shopping spree- which once she’d suggested, Nobara had practically dragged the whole gang out to the front gates.

“So Megumi,” She hums, leaning away from him, resting her back against the bookshelf again, amused at his rigid stance.  “Any thoughts? What could I do to make it clear to him how I feel, because to be honest with you, he seems a little dense at times”

She takes him in, all of him, now that she has a little distance from him.  Which isn’t saying much, since he’s literally standing toe to toe with her.  His height towers over hers, so even if she’s not on the tips of her toes to be face to face, it still feels like he’s completely surrounding her.

His fingers are tapping at his leg at a rapid, unsteady pace.  He bites his lip roughly and then releases, tongue darting out to soothe the ache, and his eyes can barely stay on her.  But even as they dart around, they always make their way back, and there she is, still staring at him.

She waits patiently, because she has all the time in the world.

This is a test, Megumi thinks, his thoughts running through his head a million miles a minute.  It has to be a test.  And I’m failing by just standing here and not saying anything.  She’s going to walk away if I don’t say something.

He’s not sure where this came from, this sudden change in demeanor, the change in her uniform, all of it.  It’s truly dizzying, and he’s not thinking clearly.  He doesn’t like having a hazy mind, he likes to stay sharp, vigilant.

But how could he be expected to do that when she’s here before him like this?

So he doesn’t say anything at all.

He just acts.

His lips are against hers and she’s shoved into the bookshelf so fast she squeaks in surprise before melting into him, and passionately returning the kiss.

His large palms grab at her lips, keeping her flush against him and while also keeping her pinned to the shelf.  She hums into his mouth, a little sound of delight as her own hands grab the collar of his shirt, fisting the material tightly.  It almost grounds her, because as soon as Megumi kissed her, she was ten feet off the ground, and then fifteen, and soon she was floating away into the clouds.

(y/n) gasps as he prods her mouth open, his tongue swiping over her bottom lip before temptation gives in and he sinks his teeth into it.  She whimpers when he releases and goes back to kissing her feverishly.

His palms are hot even through the material of her shirt, and she’s dying to feel his skin against hers.

Megumi decides rather quickly that he wants to take his time devouring her, and to do that, he was going to have to find a more comfortable position so that he wasn’t craning his neck so much.

Acting quickly, his hands wandered down from her hips, and he had to crouch a bit just to reach her ass.

“Jump” He ordered gruffly, and (y/n) wasted no time in following the instruction.

His hands held her securely as she wrapped her arms around his neck and jumped into his chest.  Her legs wound around his narrow hips with ease, and as soon as he had her pressed into the shelf again, Megumi was kissing her exposed collarbone, grazing his teeth ever so gently against her skin.

(y/n’s) fingers tangle into his hair as his lips travel up her neck, pressing featherlight kisses against the more sensitive skin.

“Megumi,” She mewls as his nose prods against her earlobe so he can reach the sweet spot at the junction of her neck and jaw.

It’s like her voice goes straight to dick, and heat pools in his lower abdomen.

In return, he sucks harshly at the spot he’d previously been leaving little kisses.  Her fingers tighten in his hair.

“Megumi,” She calls his name again, breathless, while hands sliding down the nape of his neck before they grip his shoulders.  He pulls away, panting slightly as his hooded eyes meet hers.  “Why didn’t you…sooner...”

She trails off, her lust blown eyes falling to his swollen lips, and she almost forgets her question as she thinks about grabbing his bottom lip with her teeth and sucking on it to her heart’s content.

“What is it, angel?” He murmurs, pushing his nose against her as he blindly leans in to steal another kiss.  “What do you need?”

His lips brush over hers as he speaks, and a shiver runs down her spine that she knows he feels, because she can feel his smirk on her own lips and she wants nothing more than to never speak again so that she can always have his mouth on hers.

“Need you” Her voice is so small that if she wasn’t whimpering directly into his mouth he would have never heard it.

Fuck, is Megumi glad that he got back to the school just in time to catch her on the stairs.  What luck he had to run into her when he did.

He grins, before sealing their lips in a messy, hot kiss.  (y/n’s) hands claw at his shoulders, and then grip the material of his shirt, so tight her knuckles ache.  But she’s overwhelmed with the heat- the heat of his body, the heat between her legs, the heat of his skin.

A coy smile curls at the edge of his lips, and as desperate as he is to keep her mouth occupied by his, he can’t help but tilt his head back, just enough to get a good look at her.

At first she tilts forward, chasing his lips, before realizing he wasn’t going to cave back into her.  Her bottom lip juts out in the slightest pout as her eyes flutter open.

Her brows draw together in the smallest movement.  Her eyes are puzzled, but she doesn’t ask him why he stopped.  She simply takes the time to admire her features, while he does the same.

Megumi’s eyes trace every inch of her face, as if he hasn’t already committed every feature, every dip curve and freckle, to memory.

He’s smiling, and not a teasing little grin he’s been giving her, he’s really smiling.  Out of bliss.  

She smiles back at him.

“It was me, right?” He mumbles.  “That you were talking about?”

Crinkles form at the corners of her eyes as she lets out a short giggle.

He’s the cutest.

“Of course,”

He had been fairly certain she was talking about him, but he still feels a little relieved hearing her confirm it.

“There’s no one else for me,” She adds, reaching a hand up to his jaw, laying her palm there softly.  The pad of her thumb sweetly brushed over his skin.  “Besides, I’ve never had a guy have a wet dream about me before, so I figured I’d give ‘ya a chance, right?”

Megumi’s sweet expression soured in an instant, his brows furrowing and his lips pulling into a deep frown.  (y/n’s) laughing like it’s oh so funny, and he’s contemplating dropping her and walking away.

(He’d have to be pretty stupid to do such a thing, but the thought does cross his mind)

“I fucking knew he told you” He grumbled bitterly.

(y/n) shrugs, her free hand reaching up so that her fingers could gently rub the knot away from his brows.

“He meant well,” She hums.  “Don’t be too upset”

Megumi rolls his eyes.  Says the one who isn’t humiliated.

“Would it help if I told you about the dreams I’ve had?” She asks, making his eyes dart back to hers, wide and curious.

He thinks she’s joking at first, but her expression is genuine.  His mouth moves to tell her yes I would very much like to hear about the dreams you’ve had about me, but his mind is too busy trying to imagine the dirty images that’s played behind her eyelids at night, so no words come out.

(y/n) giggles, and pushes off of his shoulders so that he would let her go.  She’s shorter than him again as she lands on her feet, but she quickly reaches on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“If you wanna come with me to my room I’ll tell you all about ‘em” She says with a grin.

Megumi blinks, his lips parted as he stares down at her.  (y/n) loves her newfound power of stunning him to silence.

She shrugs casually, and turns around, about to head out of the library without another word.  But just as she’s about to take a step, two arms wrap around her middle, and she’s lifted off the ground, with her back pressed to his chest.  A yelp escapes her before a string of delighted giggles.

“Well let’s go there, then!” Megumi cheers, racing towards the library’s doors.

(y/n) pretends to fight him to let her free, but her hands remain gripped to his forearms, not a single part of her wanting him to let go. ___

bonus:

“So…” Megumi drawls, a bit out of breath as he lays on his back, the comforter on (y/n’s) bed tangled around his legs.  “What exactly did Yuuji tell you?”

(y/n) laughs at the memory that feels like it was forever ago but it had only happened that morning.

He lifts his head to see her from where her head was at the end of the bed.  She’s too exhausted to crane her neck to look back at him.

“He was just excited to tell us that he had some juicy gossip, and then said it wasn’t his place to actually tell us” She recalled for him.

Megumi’s ears focus on only one word, his eyes widening as his heart plummets to his stomach in embarrassment.

(y/n) musters up what little energy she could to prop herself on her elbows so she could amuse herself with the pale expression on his face.

“Need some water?” She teases, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.  “You drank all of mine on break three, so you’ll have to go get more”

That brings some color back to his cheeks.

“So… everyone’s gonna know?” He mutters to himself.

If Nobara knew, everyone knew.

“Oh, they already do,” (y/n) confirms his newfound fear casually, as if she was telling him the weather.  “Who do you think told me to come seduce you?”

She wiggles her eyebrows at him playfully, while Megumi groans and falls back onto her pillows, covering his hot face with his hands.

He wasn’t going to hear the end of this. ___

no original thoughts mind on megumi xoxo ~ jordie

[puppetmaster13u]

Hear Me Out

Yokai Amity. What are yokai? Japanese spirits. And not just ghosts, a majority of mythical creatures? Yokai.

So how did this happen? Well, like most things, it can be blamed on the ghost portal in the Fenton Basement. And a lot of ecto contamination. Because while they're a small city? They're also in the middle of nowhere, meaning a lot of their foods and crops, they grow themselves. And the ectoplasm? Started sinking into the ground first. Y'know, where every plant grows and then both humans and animals proceed to eat it? Made even worse when those like Overgrowth or Vortex came through? Yeaah, it'd be a miracle if they didn't get contaminated and no surprise that most don't notice their humanity slipping with time with how it's happening to everyone.

Which kind of makes the situation Danny has found himself kind of hilarious? At least to him. The trenchcoat dude seems to be having an aneurism or something similar.

"So... not a meta?" the tiny vigilante child clarified again, head tilting from where he stood at the head of his group. Honestly Danny was enjoying this from his place sprawled across the park bench Honestly Amity had spoiled him with benches designed for extra limbs.

The blonde man seemed absolutely done with everything, hands twitching as though about to cradle his head in his hands or grab something. "No," he wasn't shouting but it was close. "For fuck's sake- your all lucky not to be cursed or worse-" He turned towards Danny. "Why the fuck didn't you?"

The hainu shrugged, wings doing more of the motion than the rest of him. "They're babies-" Or at least one of them was, borderline liminal as they were. "You play along with toddlers." Honestly he saw why his old rogues found this fun, even if he'd never go as far as they did.

The entire team of vigilante children bristled, one opening their mouth to protest before trenchcoat-soul-dude glared at them all before turning back towards him.

"Though what the fuck do you need that for that you'd steal it- not that any artifact like that should be in a bloody museum and not locked away where idiots can't get to it."

He snorted, the sound more dog-like. Or really more yeti-like, what with how he was taking lessons from Frostbite which meant large chunks of time in the Far Frozen.

"Technically I don't need it, my kid does," Danny held up a finger, marveling slightly at the clouds. It was quite different compared to Amity, what with how everywhere was so ecto-infused that the sky was effected.

"And what does a hainu need with-" the trenchcoat man motioned to the cursed object, which honestly wasn't that bad. But...

"Oh no, he's not a hainu, he's furaribi." Danny honestly wasn't surprised that Jordan wouldn't turn out the same as he, de-aged or not. Not that he was memory-less or anything, cores didn't lose that easily, but he did still have the physical brain of a child.

"Adopted?"

"Nope," he hummed, going over the list of things he still had to do today before returning to Amity. Sam had asked him to get a few more flowers to test how ecto would effect them and he had to pick up some computer parts for Tuck.

"How the fuck."

"My sister's a kitsune, my other sister is a shirouneri, my mom is a shishi, my dad a baku, godfather's an itachi, my boyfriend a raiju, my girlfriend a kirin, and my other girlfriend a yosuzume," he ticked off his fingers, not seeing anything wrong with it. Not like people could get into Amity easily after the whole GIW thing.

"... what the fuck does your family tree look like, mate, because that should be bloody impossible."

Danny shrugged, giving a sharp toothed smile. Yeah, the realms didn't care about that with how malleable ecto was.

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

(In case it's not clear: Hainu Danny, Furaribi Dan, Kitsune Jazz, Shirouneri Danny, Lion Dog Maddie, Baku Jack, Itachi Vlad, Raiju Tucker, Kirin Sam & Yosuzume Valerie) (Also feel free to come up with what everyone else might be) (Highly recommend yokai.com for a quick summary of each creature)

[captainsophiestark]

Unexpected Guest

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: Dating a vigilante sometimes leads to a few false alarm scares, but Dick Grayson couldn't be happier with how well his partner rolls with his crazy family.

Word Count: 1,410

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Crash!

My eyes shot open at the sound of a noise from the living room of the apartment I shared with my boyfriend, Dick Grayson. The man in question still snored peacefully next to me, annoyingly, but a quick glance at the clock told me why. It wasn't quite 5am, and Dick had been out patrolling until one in the morning. I listened carefully for any other noises in the apartment. I didn't want to wake my poor boyfriend up unless I absolutely had to.

After a few minutes of nothing, I heard another crash followed by a tense voice and what sounded like hushed swearing. This time, I didn't hesitate to roll over and whack Dick on the chest, hard.

His eyes shot open and he was half sitting up when I managed to throw a hand over his mouth to keep him from giving away that we were awake. My wide eyes must've tipped him off to something being wrong, because I immediately saw him shift from sleepy to ready for action.

Slowly, I dropped my hand from his mouth and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"There's someone in our living room. I heard two crashes and someone swearing."

Dick nodded once, then motioned with his hands while mouthing 'stay here'. He hopped off the bed, grabbing his escrima sticks from where he'd thrown them onto the dresser, then stalked towards the door with catlike grace and stealth. After a minute, I decided I couldn't just let him go alone, superhero or no, so I grabbed the bat I kept by my side of the bed and followed after him.

Dick popped out the door, and after a moment without hearing anything, I followed, bat at the ready. I found my boyfriend with one hand on his hip, weapons down, staring into the kitchen. I followed his gaze to find none other than Jason Todd in our kitchen, a mixing bowl and some eggs in front of him and a look with a significant lack of guilt on his face.

"What? I was after somebody and it dragged me all the way to Bludhaven. I needed a place to crash that was closer than Gotham."

Dick and I both shook our heads. As the oldest of a very high number of siblings, his apartment had become a second home base for every single other batkid. When we'd finally moved in together last month, he'd warned me I needed to be prepared for things like this.

"Glad you know to help yourself, Little Wing," said Dick with a sigh, waving one tired hand to Jason before turning and heading back to bed. I squeezed his shoulder and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he passed me, then headed into the kitchen with a smile.

"My tax for you making me think I'd have to fight off an assailant with a bat at five in the morning is my own serving of whatever you're making," I said, taking a seat on one of the kitchen island stools. Jason raised an eyebrow at me.

"You're not going back to bed?"

"Nah. Unlike Dick, I got to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour last night, so the adrenaline dump isn't threatening to put me to sleep. I'd rather hang out with you, especially since you're a better cook than Dick and I combined. I'm not missing out on that."

Jason snorted, cracking an egg and resuming his cooking all the same.

"Dick contributes nothing to your combined cooking score," he said. "I'm pretty sure he's burned cereal before."

I laughed. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're right. He's gotten better though. We watch the Food Network and look up recipes to make together, and I can trust him with way more than I used to be able to."

"If you could teach him anything it'd be a miracle," said Jason with a snort. I just hummed, trying to pick up some new skills of my own as I watched Jason cook.

"To be totally fair to him, I once forgot what I was doing and strained soup because I was on autopilot for pasta."

Jason barked a laugh, unable to hold himself back, and looked at me with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"Really?" I nodded. "That's pathetic."

I just shrugged. "Yeah. But at least there's not a lot of places to go but up, after that."

"I guess so."

Jason and I chatted as he cooked and I watched, keeping our voices low so Dick could sleep—although, after the night he'd had, he'd probably sleep through a train in our living room. After breakfast, Jason decided to go down for a nap on the couch, passing out almost as soon as we'd put the last few dishes in the sink. I just smiled, threw a blanket over him, and wandered back into the bedroom to find Dick.

It was late enough in the morning now that my boyfriend was officially up and about, stretching by the bed with his hair still a little messed up from sleeping. I grinned and flopped down against the headboard as he crossed the room to the dresser to pull out clothes.

"How's Jaybird?" he asked. "Still a good cook?"

"Still a great cook. And he's good. He seems a little wiped out from patrols and stuff, though. He's taking a nap on the couch right now."

Dick smiled and shook his head. "I get up and he goes to sleep. Typical."

"Clearly he's avoiding you."

"Clearly."

Dick and I shared a smile, and then he sighed.

"I'm going to take a shower. Hopefully Jason will be up by the time I'm out, because I actually have things to do today."

I smiled, shifting on the bed to pull the covers over myself. "I'm sure you can be quiet if he's not. Wake me up when you're out of the shower, okay? A post-breakfast nap sounds too good to resist right now."

My boyfriend laughed. "Alright, will do. I'll wake you and Jason up when I'm out."

"Mhm. Good luck with him."

"Thanks, I'm gonna need it."

I closed my eyes, getting comfortable and ready for my nap, but before I drifted off I heard Dick's shuffling footsteps crossing the room to stand by my side of the bed. A second later, he sat down next to me, the bed dipping under his weight. I cracked an eye open to squint at him.

"What do you want?"

He grinned at me and chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to interfere with your nap. I just... I wanted to say how much I appreciate you, and how good you are with my family. They mean the world to me, but I know having vigilantes dropping in at all hours of the day and night can be a little much to deal with. So thank you for being so wonderful about it, and about them."

I sighed, sitting all the way up and propping myself up on my hands to look Dick in the eye.

"Dick, I love you. And I love your family. Sure, it took a little getting used to some of the vigilante stuff, but the longer I know them the more I love them. You don't have to thank me for anything. They're my family too."

Dick absolutely beamed at me, wrapping one arm around my back and pulling me in for a kiss. I immediately reciprocated, tangling one hand in the hair at the nape of his neck. I smiled into the kiss and a moment later, Dick deepened it. We were right on the edge of escalating into something more, but both thought better of it at the last moment.

"I should take a shower," he said, still looking a little reluctant as he pulled away.

"Yeah, and you should stop interrupting my nap."

Dick snorted, rolling his eyes as he finally stood and headed for the bathroom. I grinned after him as he went, flopping back down onto my pillow only as Dick closed the bathroom door.

I took a deep breath and sighed, a smile on my face, as I closed my eyes for the second time. I heard the water start in the bathroom, and a faint smell of breakfast still hung in the air. I was surrounded by people I loved dearly, and who loved me right back. No matter the scare Jason had given me when he'd shown up, I couldn't ask for a better start to my morning than this.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

DC Taglist: @luv-ghostie

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Irresistible {5} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: You’re finally accustomed to life in the paddock but still have no interest in the sport. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, panic attack, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 3.3k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Charles liked to watch you sleep. He could happily spend all his time memorising the way your eyelashes fanned out, fluttering now and again with whatever dreams you faced. He found peace with your relaxed state, your head on his chest, your legs tangled with his.

That peace was broken with your phone's vibrating alert.

Charles should have ignored it, let the call go to voicemail but he was angry that his time with you was disturbed. Easing you on to your own pillow, he spared a glance to check you were still asleep before swiping your phone up.

“Hello Max,” he answered as he closed the bedroom door. “How can I help you?”

Max ground his teeth at the idea of asking anything from Charles, but he took a calming breath first. “Can you pass the phone Y/N?”

“No,” Charles replied after a long pause meant to torture the Dutch driver.

“Why not?”

“Because she is asleep.” Charles pulled the phone away to hang up but Max’s voice sounded in the quiet room.

“It’s never going to work out,” he stated bluntly. “If it’s not your career, it’ll be your family, but one will be ruined.”

Charles' hand tightened around the phone and it was a miracle the screen didn’t crack from the force of it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then you are as stupid as you act.”

The call ended and Charles liked to think he hit the red button first before he tossed the phone onto the couch and collapsed down beside it. His peace was well and truly gone as Max’s words repeated in his head, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already told himself. He had tried to listen to reason and failed miserably. He had to have you, and it was more than just infatuation. He wasn’t just tempted by you, he was consumed by you.

He could never let you go.

“Who were you talking to?” you murmured as Charles climbed back into bed. Sensing the cold space beside you, you had woken to hear Charles on the other side of the door.

“No one, ma biche,” he soothed as he pulled you back where you belonged. You cozied your head on his chest and listened to his rapid heartbeat begin to slow. “Sleep now, we have an early flight.”

—

The room spun at a dizzying speed and you closed your eyes as you held on tighter.

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Charles chuckled, catching the office chair and jolting you to a stop.

“I’m so bored,” you complained as the room still continued to sway. “Do you ever get to finish early and, I don’t know…do something fun?”

Charles massaged your shoulders, the most he could get away with as a friendly touch. “It’s busier this weekend,” he apologised. “It’s the 70th anniversary of F1.”

You might not know much about the sport but you knew that. There were signs everywhere to remind you.

“We’ll do something fun after the race,” he promised before his and was called.

Something had been happening with the car, so the readings or data said, and it took all of Charles' attention between practices. More than usual. You were left to try to form your own entertainment but it was a losing battle.

It appeared the party was moving from the garage to the hospitality building so you followed, clutching Charles shoulder with instant regret for spinning in the chair.

“A little dizzy?” he teased quietly in your ear. “Or are your legs still weak from this morning?”

You lightly slapped his chest and as the motion of the earth moving under your feet subsided you put a respectable distance between you both. Charles just couldn’t help himself when sat beside you as the meeting continued over plates of food, his hand finding your thigh after ‘dropping’ his napkin.

“Why don’t you go for a drive and I’ll meet up with you for dinner?” he offered, seeing your eyes glaze over when his engineer started talking statistics. He slipped his keys into your hand and kissed the air beside your cheeks. You would have preferred a French kiss but the friendly one would have to do.

You were grateful for the escape he offered and clutched the keys as you stood up, excusing yourself from the table. “What’s the speed limit around here?” you teased as you backed away.

Charles' eyes narrowed in warning but it only made you smirk as he growled, “Bambi…”

Xavi cocked an eyebrow at the nickname, his eyes looking between the two of you like he was trying to connect the dots. “Why do you call her Bambi?”

“Because my mother is dead,” you answered, knowing how quickly questions were dropped when death was mentioned. Charles choked on the drink he was sipping but you were already out of the door before he could say anything.

You could taste the freedom on your tongue as you rushed through the paddock but it came to a halt when Max stepped out of the Red Bull garage. Decked out in his navy shirt and matching trousers, you couldn’t actually recall seeing him in anything except the merch.

“Should I tell security that the woman who looks remarkably like you went that way?” he asked, pointing in the opposite direction. “You are running from them, aren’t you, schat?”

You laughed at the idea and leaned closer. “Someone may or may not have let the air out of Lewis’ tires...”

Max’s eyes sparkled with mischief and he grabbed your hand, tugging you back into his hospitality unit.

“What are you doing?” you asked between giggles.

“Can’t have this someone getting arrested, not on my watch,” he promised as he led the way through the building to a private room similar to Charles’. “We can hide in here.”

“Let me guess, the name on the door will protect me?” you joked as you took a seat on the couch and picked up the PlayStation controller. “What are you playing?”

He turned the tv on as he sat beside you. “FIFA, but there’s other games over there.”

You reached for the stack of plastic cases and rolled your eyes at the F1 game as you shuffled through the titles. You hadn’t heard of half of them, but the ones you knew of were what Charles played at home.

“Don’t you have a debrief or whatever?” you asked curiously. He seemed like he had been relaxing in the room for some time given the half full bottle of water and protein snack wrappers on the coffee table.

“Not for me, my car is running good. Is that what Charles is busy doing?”

You sent him a peeved look at the mocking tone and he sent an innocent smile back. “If you don’t have a meeting, does that mean you can leave?”

“I probably shouldn’t stray too far, but I don’t have to stay here. Where were you thinking of going?” he asked as he saw you toying with the key to a Ferrari.

“I don't know,” you admitted, “anywhere that is a change of scenery.”

Max sat up and swiped the keys. “I know somewhere. It’s not much of a change but it’s close by.”

“Can I have my keys back?”

Holding them over his head, he backed away to the door and opened it. “Come and get them,” he dared.

Your faux huff of annoyance only made him smile more before he pulled his facemask on. “You’re a child, you know that!”

He chuckled as you followed him out of the room and when you drew level with him he dipped his head down. “If you really think that I’m a child then you shouldn’t be dreaming about me.”

“Gross,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“You didn’t deny it though.”

A laugh bubbled up and you elbowed his ribs. “Shut up. And just to confirm, I don’t dream about you.”

Max looked straight ahead as he turned out of the hospitality building and down the path that went to the car park. “No, you probably dream of brown hair and green eyes.”

You stumbled over a crack in the concrete before you recovered with heated cheeks. “Yes, Harry Styles is frequently in my dreams. You don’t happen to have his number by any chance?”

“Even if I did, I don’t think I could give it to you,” he said after a few steps.

“Why not?”

Blue eyes burned as he stopped to face you, his fingers reaching for your cheek before he caught himself and pulled back. “I’d be too jealous, schat. That’s why. Now are we breaking out of here or what?”

Less than fifteen minutes away Max pulled into another racetrack and you groaned as you heard the whizz of engines flying by.

“I thought you were taking me somewhere different!”

“It is different,” he argued with a laugh as he was given entry by someone in a Red Bull shirt. “MotoGP is way more insane.”

“Moto…w-we should head back.” The high scream of the motorcycles tore past again as you stepped out among the almost empty grandstands. Your eyes could barely track them with the speeds they were reaching, but you couldn’t look away.

“We still have plenty of time,” Max said, clearly interested in the race that was going on. “Do you want to get a closer look? We can go down to the team.”

Your hands began to shake and you buried them in your pockets as another pair of riders flew into a corner together. The tail of one motorcycle clipped the other and they both went crashing to the ground, skidding across the track and into the gravel. Nausea knotted your stomach and you dropped down into the seat, burying your head between your knees as you drew ragged breaths into your lungs.

Engines idled and sirens rang, but your heartbeat was louder than it all.

“Schat? Hey, talk to me,” Max called out but you couldn’t hear him over the throbbing beat in your ears. He tried a few more times before he fumbled for his phone and for the first time he hoped he would answer.

Charles apologised for his phone interrupting the meeting and usually he would have turned it off or on silent but you weren’t with him. Paranoia, protectiveness, call it whatever, but it made him leave the phone on loud.

He nearly declined the call when he saw Max’s name come up but something turned in his stomach as he innately knew it would be about you.

“Scusami,” he said as he left the room to take the call, dreading what he would hear. You assured him that Max was only a friend, but doubt ate at him every time he thought of the two of you hanging out. He knew Max wouldn’t keep you in the shadows, he knew Max could give you the relationship you wanted. He hated Max for reminding him constantly when you weren’t around to hear it.

Charles accepted the call and lifted his phone to his ear but he wasn't prepared to hear your sobs.

“What the fuck, Max!” Charles growled as he arrived, having sped from the nearby Silverstone track.

Max was stressed and combed a hand through his hair, grateful that Charles answered the call. “I don’t know what's wrong with her.”

Warm hands tore your face mask away and the air was no longer as hard to breathe. Those same hands cradled your cheeks and wiped away the tears that ran down them as they lifted your face.

“Breathe, biche,” Charles whispered as he pressed his forehead to yours. “Big breaths. In and out, that’s it. In and out. Good girl.”

You missed the touch of his skin as he pulled away to glare at Max. “What the hell were you thinking bringing her here?”

Max wiped his face, his cheeks coloured from the worry he felt as he watched you fall into a state of cold panic. He had called Charles, not knowing what else to do and your broken whimpers went silent as soon as he arrived.

“I didn’t know this would happen, obviously,” Max growled back. He hated how quickly you calmed at another man’s touch, how you hadn’t even reacted to his attempts to help. “Is she afraid of motorcycles?”

Charles softly brushed his hands over your hair, feeling the damp sweat from your fear, before he cupped his hands over your ears. It didn’t stop you from hearing his soft words. “Her mother died on one.”

Charles wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap, cradling you close as he glared at Max who looked ill. You couldn’t imagine how you looked, but you figured it was worse. “I swear I didn’t know,” Max muttered, reaching for you only for Charles to shield you in his arms.

Charles scoffed. “Because you don’t know her, so stop trying to and just leave her alone.”

Your strength was slowly returning and you shifted in an attempt to stand up but he held you closer. “He’s my friend, Charles.”

Charles' lips brushed the shell of your ear as he whispered, “He wants to be more, ma biche.”

The crash wasn’t as severe as your mind had assumed when you heard the sirens and the race was restarting, the engines revving as they left the pit lane. The sound had a shudder run down your spine and Charles felt it before realising why.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Charles soothed as he stood up.

“I can carry her,” Max offered, but Charles cut him off with a glare.

“She’s mine- uh, my step sister,” he stammered as he kept walking further from the track.

“Put me down, I can walk,” you said as you arched your back and he was at risk of dropping you. When your feet were back on firm ground you turned to Charles and your eyes softened at the protective look in his. “Thank you for coming here for me-“

“Always.”

“-but I’m fine now,” you continued as you took a step closer to Max. “We’ll meet you back there, okay?”

Charles' head snapped side to side with a sharp shake, “No, not okay.”

Max’s ego seemed to be revitalised with the small step you took and he moved half in front of you. “Mate, you’re not her boyfriend or her father, so stop thinking you have a say in what she can do.”

“She’s here for me, she’s travelling with me,” Charles stated coldly before he looked around the MotoGP buildings with distaste. “And I know what’s best for her.”

“Enough!” you shouted and you put yourself between them. “I just want to go, please.”

Charles sighed at the soft plea and nodded reluctantly. “I’ll see you in the garage.”

You watched him leave in another Ferrari that he had likely borrowed from his teammate, Sebastian, while Max opened the passenger seat of Charles’ car for you. 

“I didn’t know about your mother,” he said softly as he buckled his seatbelt and turned the engine on.

You turned your gaze out the window and shook your head. “Don’t worry, it was years ago. I barely even knew her.”

You felt his hand on your thigh and you closed your eyes as they stung with fresh tears. “I’m so sorry, schat. Let me make it up to you, tonight. Let me take you out on a date, a proper date this time.”

“I can’t,” you mumbled to your lap.

“Why not?”

A fair question, you thought, but not one you were prepared to answer when neither of you had been so bold as to admit what both of you knew. “I can’t date you, or anyone.”

Max’s hand retreated and he scoffed. “Charles.”

“I can’t date anyone when I am in love with someone else. What I need is a friend.”

The tension in the tiny interior grew and Silverstone approached, before Max finally nodded. “Friends, okay. I can be your friend, schat. I’ll be the best fucking friend you have, and when this man you love fucks up and breaks your heart - I’ll be there to put it back together. Okay?”

The declaration had been weeks in the making and you choked down the sudden lump of emotion in your throat. You prayed the day would never come that Charles broke your heart but still found yourself nodding. “Okay, but Max…a friend wouldn’t call me schat.”

He smiled and shrugged, content that you hadn’t just shut him down completely - which would have been the kind thing to do. “I’ll just have to find another name for you then.”

Max walked you back to the Ferrari garage, ignoring the looks he received from the mechanics questioning his presence, but he wanted to make sure you arrived without incident. He was still feeling guilty for the panic attack that had left you drained and you promised you would rest once you were inside. 

Charles barely looked up from his seat on the couch in his room, but you knew he knew you were there from the way his shoulders stiffened. Sitting beside him, you took one of hands and inspected the short nails and the ruined cuticle before enclosing it in yours. 

“I wasn’t sure you were going to come back,” he admitted, barely above a whisper.

“There is only one place I want to be. This…friction between you has to stop. He is my friend and nothing more,” you said as you tipped your head onto his shoulder. 

Warm lips pressed to your forehead. “It felt like you chose him over me. I could hardly think clearly enough to drive.”

“Never, Charles. I love you, as crazy as that may be. No one will know me like you do, Charles. No one else could make me crazy enough to think we could ever have a happy ending - but you do.” His shoulders bounced with a small laugh and you shifted onto his lap so you could cup his face in your palms. “Max knows my heart belongs to another man, to you. He knows friendship is the only thing I can offer him.”

“I don’t like it,” Charles grumbled, his hands finding their way to your waist.

You laughed and kissed his pouting lips before pulling back. “You don’t have to like it, but I need friends. I moved to a new country and then spent four months with one person.”

“Two,” he interjected before zipping his mouth shut.

“I haven’t been able to meet anyone except for your friends and there is a pretty big shortage of females around here.”

Charles inhaled deeply before sighing. “I understand, Max is the closest to a female you could find.” His lips kicked up in a smirk and he tensed, expecting your punch to his shoulder as he laughed. “No, no, I do understand. I didn’t even think about how lonely you must be, I’m sorry, ma biche.”

You accepted his apology with another kiss and smirked when he pulled you closer on his lap. “Is this the cure for my loneliness?” you asked as you felt him growing hard beneath you.

“I don’t know, but I think we should test every possibility.”Your response was stolen by a knock at the door and Charles groaned as he was told to start warming up for the next practice. He dropped his forehead to yours before shifting you back onto the couch as he stood up and rearranged the bulge in his trousers. “Fuck, I was warming up.”

Chuckling, you made yourself comfortable on the couch with his jacket as a pillow. “Put all that energy to good use and wake me when you are done.”

“Oh I’ll wake you, ma biche,” he said with a wink, “but you didn’t say how.”

Click here for part six.