#though both him and i know neither of us would study

[darkmatilda]

𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your relationship is still very new, and you're getting ready to tell the rest of the team about it. in the meantime, you find yourselves again in another unusual hotel...where suddenly spencer starts acting very strangely?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: glasses spencer reid x newbau!female!reader, fluff, intimacy conversation, spender being adorably shy

𝐚/𝐧: 'matilda how many more times are you gonna write that one bed trope' AS MUCH AS I CAN TILL I DIE btw i wrote this fic over a pretty long period of time, had a main idea (supposedly), but in the end i'm not happy with how it turned out—kinda all over the place. anyway, enjoy

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.8k

"My five dollars"

Spencer sighed and reached into his jacket pocket to pull out the slightly crumpled bill. You closed it in your hand, a triumphant smile on your face.

"Let's make bets more often, darling," you suggested.

When you used that nickname, his gaze briefly flickered over your face, as if studying whether it had been said purely in jest.

"You’re puffing up like you just invented the wheel," he said, gently shaking his head from side to side. "And just to remind you, all you did was park parallel."

"Parked parallel, indeed. And my coffee?"

He also handed you the paper cup he’d been holding while you performed those incredibly complicated car maneuvers that the bet was about. It was morning, the first day back at work. January, the first days of the new year. You had just arrived at the office parking lot in your car, after spending the night at your place. Everything around you still seemed to smell of that melancholic blend of the past mixed with the fresh scent of the coming months. And coffee, bought at the café on the way.

You took a tiny sip of the hot drink. Spencer, it seemed, hadn’t touched his even once. Both of you, consciously or not, were stretching out the moment just a little longer. And, truth be told, you could afford to. The parking lot around you was only beginning to fill with cars, suggesting the early hour. It was nice to sit there together, sharing the quiet without any discomfort.

You realized this was supposed to be your first day at work as a couple.

A warm, pleasant feeling spread through you at the sound of that word, even though you hadn’t said it out loud. It still felt a little unreal. You had grown closer during the New Year’s Eve party at your place. It was only after that shared—and not just one—kiss that a new perspective dawned on you about the past months of your relationship, revealing some undefined emotions.

"I was wondering..." Spender suddenly began, his brows furrowed slightly, pulling you out of your thoughts.

His gaze suddenly fell on his watch.

"We still have some time," you reassured him calmly. "Let me guess. You've been wondering what would happen if we crossed the DNA of a jellyfish that can reverse its life cycle with the human genome?"

A small smile flickered across his face, a touch of affection despite the rather serious expression on the rest of his face.

"That too," he admitted, nodding. Then he opened his mouth, with some visible hesitation, as if a particular question was troubling him. You shifted in the driver's seat, preparing for whatever he wanted to discuss, whatever he wanted to ask. "How...how are we supposed to act...you know, towards each other? At work?"

For a moment, your brain didn’t understand what he meant. But then, a fleeting oh escaped you as the meaning of his words sank in, and you realized that it was indeed something worth considering. Somehow, over the past few days, neither of you had brought it up. You had just gone back to work, without any reflection on the fact that none of your colleagues knew about the progress in your relationship. About how it had suddenly taken a step to a completely different level.

Spencer studied your face in silence, waiting for a response. As he looked at you, coming up with a logical solution became incredibly difficult. Before you finally said anything, you let out two half-intelligent mutters, like a fish thrown onto the surface.

"We have to tell them," you finally said, stating the obvious. "Somehow. Maybe...we can meet at my place this weekend. All of us. Or we could go out somewhere, and then tell them calmly."

"This weekend?" Spencer repeated cautiously.

It was Monday.

Suddenly, it became incredibly hard to read the expression on his face. He was facing you, his brows slightly furrowed, a look of uncertainty, almost withdrawal. The air inside your car thickened, making the silence even more palpable. He seemed almost concerned, downcast. You froze, wondering if you had really said something wrong.

"So until then," he started more quietly, "are we just supposed to hide it from them?"

“I'm not sure hide is the right word," you replied with a grimace. "I just...I meant, maybe we should wait. For a better moment, you know? Instead of walking into the office on the first Monday of the year, when half the people are still nursing hangovers, and saying hey, guess what? we hooked up!”

His expression hadn't changed, despite your pretty honest explanation.

"You don't like the idea," you stated, rather than asking. You made sure your voice sounded gentle, adjusting it to the situation. "I can see that, Spencer."

"Okay, you're right, I don't like it," he admitted with a sudden coolness, his lips tightening slightly between sentences. "Because...I don't get your reasoning. Or, maybe I just don’t know if this is really what you mean."

Slightly surprised, you shook your head.

"What else could I—"

"I don’t know if it's really about that, or maybe..." he cut off, looking into your eyes as if hoping you'd understand by now. But you didn't have the skill to read his mind, no matter how remarkable it was—it was also incredibly complex. "Or maybe...I don’t know, you just don’t take it seriously. That's why you don't want to tell anyone about it."

You gasped, finally understanding his behavior. Realizing the hidden concern.

"You’re worried I don't take us seriously?"

Spencer shrugged briefly.

"You know, if that's really the case, I'd rather know now..."

You leaned in to catch one of his hands, which had been clasped over his chest. You broke his defensive stance, pulling him toward you by his long fingers, simply holding it for a moment before speaking again. With a smile. A slightly amused smile.

"Of course, I take us seriously, you idiot," you snorted. A sense of relief washed over you. Earlier, he’d seemed genuinely worried, and you’d been expecting far worse things than the fact that your guy literally paled with anxiety over worrying you weren’t as invested in your fresh relationship as he was. Well, out of context, it sounded like a very serious concern. But the context was, you took it seriously, and you were incredibly happy he did too. "You know what? Maybe you're right. Why should we make idiots out of ourselves for the next week? Let’s just walk in like this."

You motioned toward your intertwined fingers, raising them as if they were a trophy earned through sweat and tears. Spencer followed their movement with his gaze, initially surprised, but then the corner of his mouth twitched, and he tilted his head with a quiet chuckle.

"We can do it your way," he said, taking control of your hands, clasping them with both of his. He looked relieved; your reassurance and the sincerity in your voice clearly calmed him. You smiled too, finally seeing that peace on his face. "I really don't mind waiting a few days. It might even be… interesting. One of us might not hold out and accidentally slip up."

You raised an eyebrow in a teasing manner.

"Another bet, Reid?" you clicked your tongue. You kept eye contact with him, feeling his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. He seemed so unaffected, as if he didn’t realize he was doing it. "You already lost five bucks about…ten minutes ago. At this rate, you'll be broke within a month, and we'll have to skip that overpriced coffee downtown. Now that would be a real horror story, speaking as a citizen of the first world."

"Didn't say anything about another bet!”

"Too late," you shot back, turning his hand and taking it in a more formal handshake. "Handshakes sealed the deal."

He rolled his eyes, but a half-smile lingered on his face. He still hadn’t let go of your hand.

"I think we should get going," he said reluctantly.

You sighed with the same enthusiasm. You really felt stuck to that seat, right next to him.

"You know, being late on the first day of the new year should be fully justified..."

"We really need to go."

He was right. But before either of you could move to get out of the car, he leaned forward. Gently cupping your cheek, he drew you in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch, and for a brief moment, the world outside seemed to vanish—just the two of you, in that quiet, perfect stillness.

His face suddenly turned to the side, noticing something through the windshield. You frowned and looked in the same direction.

"That's Gideon," you remarked out loud, even though both of you had already spotted the silhouette of your coworker stepping out of a car that had just parked a short distance ahead. He wasn’t looking your way yet, but he could at any moment. "Quick, hide!"

Okay, you were completely honest with yourself. It wasn’t about being afraid of getting caught. After all, there was nothing strange about two coworkers arriving at work together in the same car—it was even very eco-friendly. You just liked the idea of shoving Reid under the seat. And the poor thing, so thrown off by the mock authority in your voice and the situation itself, did it without a second thought.

When Gideon finally noticed you, you cheerfully waved at him.

"Fuck," you muttered suddenly.

"What is it?" Spencer returned to his seat, adjusting his glasses on his nose. "Do you think he saw me?"

You shook your head.

"I just realized…this is your car."

*

"Okay, draw a straw."

"Morgan, how old are you?" You shook your head in disbelief, staring at the man standing across from you in the motel lobby. The place where you were spending the night this time was very tidy, with subdued colors, but, as tradition demanded, there had to be some sort of problem. You had one room for two, but one of them only had a double bed. So, you had to decide which two lucky people would share it. "Five?"

"And a half. Listen, we have to decide somehow. Let fate do it. The two who pull the shortest will sleep together. Simple as that."

Before you could say anything else, Garcia approached, weighed down by her bags. Yes, her—rarely did any case require her to be on-site, but it wasn’t completely unheard of.

"Oh, come on, Sweetie," she muttered to you, setting her luggage down and hunching slightly to catch her breath. "Let him feel like a kid again for a moment. He doesn’t get the chance often."

You sighed in resignation, but before you could pull one of the purple straws (how did he even get them?) that Morgan was holding in such a way that their lengths were hidden, you glanced around briefly. Sometimes you arrived at hotels at different times, some getting there faster, others later. Spencer and JJ had just walked in, both wearing coats to shield them from the cold January air. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him and his fogged-up glasses, which he quietly cursed under his breath—judging by the movement of his lips. However, you quickly composed yourself, returning to a neutral expression. It had only been two days since your agreement to keep the details of your relationship hidden, and so far, neither of you had slipped or forgotten to keep quiet around the others. Well, out of the two of you, you were probably struggling with it more—being a bit of a clinger, sometimes even your body would naturally gravitate towards his when standing next to him.

“Why are you standing here?” Spencer asked, approaching you. “Is there a problem with the rooms?”

“Is there ever not a problem with the rooms?” you responded, laughing. “Some poor souls are going to have to share a bed,” you explained, making brief eye contact with him. You were sure only he could catch the emphasis you placed on poor souls.

Of course, you wouldn't mind ending up in the same room. It wasn't about the fact that you were together—before, you’d shared rooms and even beds, and you were used to it by now. You would've probably offered it yourself, if it weren’t for the potential suspicion and that silly bet, which was starting to lose its point in your eyes. Maybe you should’ve just told them a few days ago?

“Oh,” he said shortly, crossing his arms with a bit of stiffness. His brown bag hung from his shoulder. He held your gaze for a moment, but his expression wasn’t as amused as yours. His brows furrowed slightly as he cleared his throat. “Poor them. Who’s it going to be?”

You slightly puffed out your lips slightly, watching him with a sharp look. What was it that made him so uneasy—the fact that you might not be in the same room this time?

“We were just about to decide,” Penelope replied, glancing at her friend with a teasing smile. “Morgan’s going to show us a game he learned today in kindergarten."

 JJ couldn't help but snort.

 “Just draw a straw…!”

You couldn’t recall another moment when all of you, every single one, rolled your eyes in perfect unison. But that’s exactly what happened when Derek once again enthusiastically explained the rules, as though they weren’t already ridiculously simple. In the end, each of you reached for one of the straws he was holding.

JJ went first. She pulled hers quickly, and it was of regular length, so it was immediately clear she wasn’t one of the poor souls. She raised her hand in a mock display of triumph, earning a few amused chuckles from the group.

Your turn came next. You approached the task with a certain gravity, as though the fate of the night depended entirely on the straw you chose. You studied each one carefully, as if their lengths could somehow be deciphered from the way they were arranged.

You wouldn’t have minded drawing the shortest straw. But only on one condition. 

Morgan looked at you with mock sympathy. Your straw wasn’t even half as long as JJ’s, which seemed to settle things. Now, it was just a matter of figuring out which of the remaining two—Reid or Garcia—would end up joining you.

Spencer reached out with a calculated, deliberate motion, his eyes immediately darting to yours when his straw turned out to be...one of the longer ones.

You shot him a look of bitter disappointment before your gaze shifted to your soon-to-be roommate. Penelope didn’t seem disheartened—on the contrary, an enthusiastic smile lit up her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but you caught the fleeting shift in her expression and the subtle flicker of her eyes.

“Oh no,” she suddenly gasped, her voice filled with exaggerated horror, even though she’d just seemed perfectly content, or at least not displeased, at the idea of sharing a room with you. “No, absolutely not. There’s no way I’m sleeping in the same room with her. Do you guys even know how loud she snores?”

Lies! You wanted to yell, but stopped yourself as realization dawned. Garcia was a good actress—you had to give her that—but her flair for dramatics always bordered on overkill, making it far too easy to catch her in a lie.

“I’m not used to traveling as often as you guys are,” Penelope continued in the same over-the-top tone. “I barely get a wink of sleep in a new place when it’s quiet, let alone with someone next to me snoring like a steam engine…”

“Love you too, Pen,” you muttered dryly.

“Someone has to switch with me, please,” she concluded, clasping her fingers together in a dramatic plea and pulling off the best puppy-dog eyes you’d seen in a long time. Well, at least since the time Reid had tried to coax you into reciting one of your old, cringe-worthy high school poems—the existence of which you’d only ever confessed to him.

“JJ?” Penelope turned her hopeful gaze toward her.

“Not a chance. My straw was the longest,” JJ replied, smug and immovable.

“Don’t even think about asking me,” Morgan chimed in before anyone could so much as glance in his direction.

And so, all eyes inevitably fell on Reid.

He awkwardly scratched the back of his ear, not looking directly at you.

“Well, I always carry earplugs with me…”

“Then it’s settled!” Garcia declared, hoisting her luggage with sudden determination. One of her heavy bags was thrust into Morgan’s arms so abruptly that he staggered backward under its weight. “Sweet dreams, everyone! Don’t let the bedbugs bite, and may the sheep you count tonight be extra fluffy and adorable. Goodnight!”

Just before she fully turned to leave, she sent you a quick, knowing wink.

You shook your head in disbelief, but the faintest smile danced on your lips. You didn’t even bother questioning how she knew. Only one conclusion circled your mind. Penelope could be really impossible. Thankfully, being impossible didn’t disqualify her from also being the best friend under this vast, sprawling sky. Period.

*

"What do you think about starting a tier list for all the hotels we stay in?” you remarked as both of you crossed the threshold of the room. Your eyes immediately landed on its unexpected feature. “Or at least the weirdest ones. Like the one with walls the color of cat pee where the power went out in the middle of the night. That one’s definitely at the top..."

"I don’t really get the point of a mirror on the ceiling," Reid said after a pause, looking over his shoulder at you. He was standing a few steps away, near the bed in the glaring white room with birchwood floors. "Who wants to look at themselves while trying to fall asleep?”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was joking or not. He raised an eyebrow too, not understanding why you did that. Okay, he wasn’t joking.

"You know, the main point isn’t really to look at yourself while falling asleep," you explained, with a bit of amused pity. Your gaze also briefly lingered on the glass surface above the bed, designed to reflect the bodies of people lying in bed. You thought it was a surprising addition but weren’t planning on spending too much time on it for now. You just wanted to get your shoes off—shoes you’d been wearing since sunrise—and finally lie down on something soft. "By the way, I’m taking a shower first."

Spencer only muttered something under his breath in response. Before disappearing behind the bathroom door, you cast one last glance at him. He seemed quiet—strangely quiet. Not that you were expecting his usual chatter after a long day of work; it could weigh on anyone and leave them feeling subdued. Maybe he just needed an extra moment to unwind, and that’s where his restraint came from.

Anyway, you took a quick shower. The pressure of the hot water nearly scalded your skin, which meant you’d be spared the bitter complaints, grumbling, and dramatic resignation threats from Morgan the next day. You felt too tired to linger under the stream for long. After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower, changed into your sleepwear, and gathered the clothes you’d worn all day from the floor.

You and Spencer passed each other in the doorway without a word.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you frowned. The bathroom door shut behind him, and some concerned question froze on your lips. For a moment, you stood still, debating whether you should ask it. But then the sound of running water reached your ears, and you figured he probably wouldn’t hear you anyway.

Instead, you decided to climb into bed, wait for him, and ask about it then. Whatever it was clearly weighed on him, and the fact that something was bothering him bothered you. Funny how that worked, right?

You spent that moment lying on your back, eyes wide open, afraid you might accidentally fall asleep if you closed them. A comfortable bed during a case—it felt like pure luxury. You were waiting for Spencer to finally emerge from the bathroom so you could curl up next to him, fall asleep to the fresh post-shower scent of him, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Just like you had spent half the day after the New Year’s party at your place—wrapped around each other, arguing over who would get up to make coffee and whether you should start cleaning up the mess from the night before.

You tucked your arm beneath your head, gazing at your fully-covered form reflected in the ceiling mirror.

“Did you find a portal to another galaxy in there or what?” you finally called out, impatient. He’d been in there way too long. And coming from you—a known lover of long, indulgent baths—that was saying something.

“Sorry,” he murmured as he finally emerged from the bathroom, wearing a gray t-shirt instead of his usual neat work attire and tie perfectly knotted at his neck. He still had his glasses on, which he might’ve forgotten to remove, judging by the way he slid into bed to your left without taking them off.

You watched him closely, rubbing at your tired eye. The shower had managed to wash away about half of the tension from Spencer’s face, but the other half stubbornly remained.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” he said softly.

“I didn’t have to,” you admitted simply, watching as he carefully adjusted himself, finding the right position. The lamp on his side of the bed cast a warm glow over his skin. You were both half-sitting, you comfortably propped up against the soft pillows, and him barely leaning back against them. “But I wanted to. We really lucked out with this room, huh? Penelope is one of a kind.”

"Did you tell her about us?"

"I didn’t say a word. She's just more observant than the rest”

He nodded, agreeing with you. You thought he might say something else about it, maybe make a joke about the bet, but he didn’t. You yawned.

"You seem tired.”

“How did you figure that out, Sherlock?” you asked, your sarcasm light, without a hint of malice. “You too, by the way. Although, it’s not just that you seem tired—you are tired, at first glance. Or maybe something’s bothering you. Or maybe both. Am I right?”

He shrugged slowly.

“No, as far as I know.”

“Oh, come on,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. You pulled your knees closer to your chest, shifting into a full sitting position with slightly bent legs. You leaned forward just enough to gently take his glasses off and fold them, your fingers brushing briefly against his cheek. He didn’t look at what you were doing, his gaze fixed on your face under the soft fall of his lashes. The wonderful color of his eyes, the slight hesitation in your movements as you moved a little closer to kiss him—a fleeting, tender press of lips.

“Something’s going on, and you can tell me about it.”

“Or we could just go to sleep,” he suggested quietly. “It’s been a long day. You must be tired, I mean, you yawned a little while ago.”

You tilted your head, studying him thoughtfully. Was he really trying this hard to dodge the topic? How could you get him to open up?

“I know blackmail isn’t exactly healthy for relationships,” you started finally, turning his glasses over in your hands, “but I’m not giving these back until you tell me.”

Both corners of his mouth twitched at once.

“Oh no, what am I going to do now?” he replied with feigned concern, gently shaking his head. Then he lowered his voice.  “This is exactly what I’d say if I didn’t also have contacts with me.”

"Sometimes I just want to…ugh."

"Violence isn't too healthy for relationships either."

"Just like not opening up. Remember what we talked about a few days ago in the car? You were worried I don't take you seriously. How else am I supposed to prove I'm serious if I don’t ask what’s wrong when I can tell something’s off?"

Your explanation sounded a bit jumbled, but he had to get the general idea. The reference to that specific conversation and his own words seemed to hit a sensitive spot.

"I didn’t want you to feel like you have to prove anything to me," he quickly corrected, swallowing hard. His chest fell, and the sigh felt like surrender. "I'm sorry. I just don't want you to worry about it. It's nothing serious. I’m just tired...and a little stressed."

"Stressed?" you repeated, surprised. "You're stressed? But about what?"

He hesitated for a moment.

"Just... about this," he said vaguely, his gaze shifting from you to your reflection in the glass ceiling. "Us, I mean."

"What do you mean?" you asked quietly, still confused, gently shaking your head. "We've shared rooms before, so if it’s about that, I really don’t get it."

"Yeah, but never like this. In a room with a king-sized bed and a huge mirror right above us," he explained, his voice tinged with embarrassment, clearly wishing he could just stop talking. "Okay, I know this sounds dumb, I know it does, but I don’t know why it’s messing with my head like this. I just...I kinda thought maybe you'd want to..."

"Spencer," you interrupted, saving him from going any further. You saw a flicker of relief in his eyes. You weren’t sure what emotion was bubbling up inside you now—whether it was still confusion or just pure amusement. "You were worried I’d want to have sex with you?” 

You didn’t even need to wait for his answer to know you’d hit the nail on the head. Considering how your relationship had grown out of friendship, slowly evolving over time and shared experiences instead of a sudden burst of passion, you weren’t surprised you hadn’t yet taken that step together. It was something special in its own way—there had never been any pressure, and you hadn’t expected that he might feel the exact opposite.

So when you finally figured out what had been bothering him all this time, you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and genuine.

"You were right, you know. It does sound kind of dumb," you said, unable to keep the smile from your face. His expression remained unreadable, his posture betraying a hint of anticipation as he waited for the rest of your reaction. "But also…I don’t know, kind of adorable? But seriously, Spencer, we don’t have to do anything if you’re not ready."

"It’s not that I don’t want to at all," he clarified quickly, almost too firmly. "I mean...it’d be our first time. Together. That’s what I mean. And I guess I just didn’t expect it to...happen tonight, here, of all places."

"I didn’t either," you admitted truthfully, the smile still lingering on your face. Unlike him, you didn’t feel even a hint of embarrassment. "I figured we’d just go to sleep, especially since we both already admitted we’re exhausted."

"Fair point," he mumbled.

"Honestly, this has to be the biggest example of overthinking I’ve ever seen anyone put themselves through, Spencer," you teased lightly, shaking your head.

For a moment, he stayed silent, but it felt like he was letting out a breath he’d been holding.

“You’re gonna have to get used to that,” he admitted finally, his voice soft. But then, you caught the faint glimmer of a smile tugging at his lips.

He even started to laugh, a quiet chuckle filled with a sort of amused self-awareness. Meanwhile, you leaned out of the bed to place his glasses on the nightstand on your side. If he wanted them in the morning, he’d have no choice but to reach right over you.

“But just for the record,” he began after a moment, as you reached for the edge of the blanket that had slipped off you earlier, pulling it back up to wrap around yourself. Your head was only inches from the pillow now. You gave him a questioning nod. He, too, was getting ready to lie down, finally looking genuinely relaxed. “How pathetic do you think that was, on a scale from one to ten?”

You just rolled your eyes, not even dignifying the question with an answer.

“In the interest of science,” he pressed, “one to ten?”

“Pathetic enough that you’ll need to redeem yourself a little in my eyes,” you sighed dramatically. “Go on, I’m waiting for your ideas.”

“I think I might have a few,” he replied with a soft chuckle.

You prolonged the kiss, savoring the deep sense of comfort it brought you. The two of you lay face to face, and you gently brushed a few still-damp strands of hair from Spencer's forehead, though they stubbornly fell back into place. Eventually, you gave up with a soft sigh against his lips. Spencer kept his eyes closed, lost in a quiet bliss, even as you pulled back just slightly, leaving only an inch of space between you.

"Can I turn off the light now?" you asked, as always. The question had become a tradition since you'd learned about his complicated relationship with darkness.

He hummed in agreement, nodding faintly. Leaning over him, you reached for the bedside lamp on his side. The room was instantly bathed in darkness, your reflections in the mirror above fading into obscurity.

You didn’t fully return to your original spot. Instead, you shifted closer, resting your head comfortably against his chest. The hotel pillows were unbelievably plush, you had to admit, but that night, you chose this over anything else.

"You’re not asleep," he noted gently after about fifteen minutes. He cleared his throat. "During sleep, a person’s breathing becomes slower and more regular. You know, if you’re uncomfortable here, you don’t have to…"

"I’m listening to your heartbeat," it slipped out of you. Though it was true, you hadn’t planned on admitting it out loud. "Nothing sinister, just to be clear. I’m not planning to rip it out of your chest or anything like that. It just works for me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Like those videos that imitate the sound of a crackling fireplace. Pretty calming."

"My heartbeat reminds you of the sound of a fireplace?" he said, a glint of confusion in his softly hoarse voice.

You sighed, in the darkness, he couldn’t see the faint smile painting itself on your face, pressed against his chest.

"Sweet dreams, silly."

tag list: @she-wont-miss @mggslover @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella @re1dsb1xch @trulymadlydarling @cynbx @penelopegarciaismygf @awordsmith

[whatifitis]

♡ you happened - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Did I just... fall in love with the worst person to fall in love with?! *crashes out in a grocery store*

WC: 2565

CW: fluff, friends or something to lovers, use of swear words ☝, joke about death/banter, also not proofread and I've veen awake for almost 24 hrs and my last sleep was 4 hours long :D

Your whole life, all you ever heard was “Oh the two of you are so cute together!”, “Just wait, you two were meant to be”, “Never say never!”

Everyone, your family, his family, neighbors, even staff at restaurants and cafes you frequented thought it. Spoken as if it was written in the stars that you and Lando Norris were fated. You’re not kidding when you say that both your families have placed bets on when you two would finally end up dating… turns out the person who gets closest to the day will win $1,000. 

At first, it didn’t really bother you. It was quite easy to get on with life and ignore their antics. But as you grew older, it stopped being a little joke or little bits of hope within them. When you started dating your first boyfriend in high school, your family audibly sighed when you introduced them to him. The audible sigh was only the start as well. Soon they were making sly comments about how your boyfriend didn’t have green eyes like Lando or curly hair. 

When your family continued their behavior with the second boy you brought home, you stopped introducing them. 

The pressure didn’t just affect you and your love life. After some time, you and Lando stopped talking. After being inseparable since you were practically born, the two of you were pushed apart because of your families and their incessant need to hope for something truly insane. 

You think it had been about 9 years of no contact before you and Lando had reconnected. And the only reason that you two had found each other again was because you needed a new roommate and Lando was lonely…

It was awkward at first. The two of you had grown up and completely changed as people. The interests and hobbies you once had as children were now nonexistent in your lives today. Everything has changed: your favorite colors, foods, and movies. 

It took quite some time, but now you two know each other better now. Though Lando is rarely in the city where you two live, he’s always home when he’s there. The man never leaves the house and it was quite concerning at first. You wondered if he was deficient in vitamin D. The doctors probably thought he went out less than a vampire. 

The one thing that really helped the two of you to bond, besides having mandatory hangouts at least once a month, was when you had been infected with a cold and had somehow shared it with Lando. The two of you were almost bedridden for a week. To make sure neither of you would need to be sent to the emergency room, camp was set up in the living room. Who knew being cramped together in the same room for a week would make the two of you best friends again. 

Not only did you guys relearn each other's favorite colors and movies, but now you know his favorite video games and what his life is like. Lando also got to learn about what you studied in university and how you once duetted ‘Everyday’ from High School Musical 2 with Phoebe Bridgers at a bar in Manchester. After sharing this information, Lando had mentioned the fact that he had never seen any of the High School Musical movies. Sure his sisters had played it in the house as kids but he never paid any mind to it. Naturally, you forced him to watch all 3 movies and now his favorite song is ‘You Are the Music in Me’, HUMUHUMUNUKUNUKUAPUA’A was a close second though. 

And because you had forced him to watch all the HSM movies, he made you play some video games with him. After some debating, he had decided that the two of you would play ‘It Takes Two’. He claimed it was a great way to “create moral” and “bond” with each other. The only thing you had gathered was that you and Lando would make a terrible team no matter what you two were doing. 

Sports? Someone would break the other's nose by accident. Video games? A controller was going to get broken. 

You had also learned that the both of you liked to taunt and poke fun at each other in a way that would make others concerned. 

-=+=-

“Don’t you think it’s romantic? Dying for each other?” Lando said, leaning his head back to look at you and smiling cheekily. 

“I’d rather kill you myself, thanks.” you say, rolling your eyes and making Lando let out a chuckle. The chuckle then leads to a coughing fit. This in turn made you laugh and now then the both of you were having a coughing fit. 

Through coughs and grasps for air, Lando said “Karma, bitch.”

Some gaslighting from you may have followed after you’d hit Lando in the face with a pillow. 

“Lando, I swear. The pillow just levitated on its own and hit your face.”

-=+=-

You were sitting in the kitchen, working on your laptop when Lando came in and wandered over to the fridge. You watched as he opened the fridge, analyzed its contents for approximately 2 seconds before closing it and turning to look at you, “Heyyyy, y/n.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you respond “Heyyy, Lan.”

“So, uhm. Do you wanna go to the market with me? I need something for quick meals and snacks and I could use some company.” 

“You could use some company or are you still scared of the pigeons outside the market door?” you question. 

“Hey! Those beasts are out for blood! I swear on my future dog's life, TWO of them came for my head last time I went.” 

“Sure, big man. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” you say as you stand and walk over to pat his shoulder, “You’re driving though. These narrow roads make me wanna swerve into oncoming traffic.”

“Deal.” Lando says as he follows you out the apartment door. 

-=+=-

Lando had already parked the car and the two of you were walking to the doors of the market. You watched Lando try to “sneakily” tiptoe through the market doors, keeping an eye out for any potential threats (pigeons…). 

He was just halfway through the door when a customer in the store had accidentally dropped a box of cereal. Lando tripped and nearly fell before catching himself and trying to brush off the fact that as a grown man, he was terrified of birds. 

“Smooth.” you tease “Smooooth.”

Lando grabs a basket and walks quickly further into the store. Think it's to say he was at least a little embarrassed by what had just happened. By the time you managed to catch up to him, he was already at the opposite end of the store, browsing the tampons.

“Lan?”

“Yeah?” he says as he turns his attention back to you. 

“Is it that time of the month or something?”

“Nah. Just… looking…observing.”

“Right. I’ll just go and grab some crisps.” you say, pointing somewhere behind him. 

“Oh sick! I’ll go with you.” he says, skipping down the aisles. 

As the two of you debated between some of the options of crisps, the song being played in the market had changed and you’re confident that everyone had heard the gasp that escaped Lando’s mouth when he heard the opening notes of ‘You Are the Music in Me’. 

Before you could even register what was happening, Lando had dropped the basket on the floor and grabbed an abandoned whisk off a shelf, using it as a makeshift microphone for his performance. When it was Gabriella’s turn to sing, Lando turned the “microphone” to you, raising an eyebrow in anticipation. 

Reluctantly, you sang your bit, making a smile erupt on Lando’s face. Half-way through the song, Lando was running and jumping up and down the aisle, dancing and lip syncing to the song. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. You were also laughing at the realization that he was so embarrassed of being startled by cereal that he ran through the store to hide, but now he’s openly performing in the middle of the store, not caring who could be watching and judging. 

God, I’m in love… shit. 

No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening. 

No way you were in love with Lando Norris. You were never going to live this down. Some people in your family will be $1,000 richer. They will comment on this for the rest of your lives. You will have lost. They will have won. This was forever going to be something they would use against you. 

Fuck. 

After a minute, Lando had noticed the sudden change in your emotions. One second, you were laughing and smiling brightly at him and with him. The next, your face had dropped and turned to stone. Did he do something? Were you embarrassed? Of him?

“Hey, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Lando questioned, concern drawing his features. 

Too embarrassed to be truthful, you tried to think quickly and faked being agitated. 

“Yeah, you happened. Dumbfuck.” you say as you trudge past the man. 

Lando’s heart dropped. What did he do wrong? You’re clearly upset but he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t know how to fix it. 

He watched your back drift away and out the door of the market, standing with his feet planted in one spot, unable to move and chase after you to make sure you were okay. 

-=+=-

What the fuck did I just do? You thought as you leaned against Lando’s car, rubbing your hands down your face in frustration. 

This is insane. How are you in love with him? You mean,  it’s not that there’s anything wrong with Lando and liking him. But why did you have to be in love with him? Why must you be cursed with eternal mocking and teasing from yours and his family? 

And what were you gonna tell him? You were happy one second then mad the next. You almost yelled at him and ended up pushing past him, hitting his shoulder with yours pretty roughly. You crashed out in the middle of a grocery store…

Before you could come up with a game plan on how to explain this to Lando, or atleast come up with a good lie, Lando was already walking to you and unlocking the car. All he did was spare a quick look at you before getting in the car with the groceries. For the split second your eyes met his, you couldn’t decipher how he was feeling or what he was thinking. It was almost as if there was nothing there. 

When you opened the car door and dropped into your seat, he didn’t say a word. He barely paid you any mind. The whole drive back to the apartment was filled with an uncomfortable silence. His eyes trained on the road, never once moving off the road. If you were in the car any longer, you’re sure you would’ve suffocated under the weight of uncertainty. 

-=+=-

You walked into the apartment with Lando carrying the groceries, tailing you. Not only was the car ride spent in eerie quietness, but so was the walk to the apartment from the car. 

You heard as the front door clicked shut, standing by the kitchen counter and fiddling with your hands and tempted to pick at your nails, a bad habit you’ve had for years. 

Lando put the groceries onto the counter and flicked his eyes to your hands for a second “Stop picking at your nails. S’not good for you.”

Thank god. He spoke. So he’s not upset with you?

You watched as the man leaned his hands against the counter before speaking “So, you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he says calmly. 

“Hm? Nothing’s wrong.” your voice pitched higher than normal. 

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“I’m not the smartest person but I’m not stupid either, y/n.” 

“I didn’t say you were.” 

“Okay, so tell me what’s wrong. Everything was fine and then all of a sudden your face and mood had dropped. Not only that but you stormed out of the store after telling me that I happened?” he says, trying not to take his frustration out on you. Though you think he should for the way you had behaved. 

“I- I’m fine, Lan.”

“Stop lying. Please. I don’t like lies, especially not from you cause I can tell when you’re lying. You’re a terrible liar.”

Your jaw drops, “Am not!”

“Please. Remember when you ate that last spring roll and you tried to convince me that a squirrel came in through the window and stole it?”

“Okay, well. I see your point.”

“Exactly” he breathes out “So, what’s wrong? Why are you lying to me?”

With a deep breath and a ‘yolo’ you confess “I think I like you.”

“Why do you sound distressed?”

“Because this is distressing.” you rasp. 

“Why?!”

“Lan, you know our families and their incessant need to butt into our lives and force us together. If they found out, I would never live it down. My whole life, I’ve had to fight the allegations. But now?! Now they will forever taunt us with this information. Also I feel the need to point out that some people will be $1,000 richer because of this. Do you really want to give them that? Do you, Lando? Do You?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows. 

“Well, I mean… would it be that bad?”

“Huh?”

“Well, I think it would be okay? Like, I don’t think it’s a bad idea. And so what if they tease us for this? It just means that they maybe did some voodoo or paid an etsy witch… or we really are meant for eachother.” Lando says, his voice getting softer the more he spoke, as if he was afraid. Afraid of your reaction, what you would say, how you would feel. 

“I- I mean. There’s nothing wrong with it? I guess it’s just unexpected. And things like that make me panic. I think I blew this really out of proportion.” you wince. 

“Ya think?” Lando laughs “You stormed out the market and almost caused a scene.”

“Yeah… I also didn’t get my favorite ice cream and I’ve been craving it for ages.” 

“Oh, well… I actually got it for you. I remember you saying you’d been craving it and wanted to get you some. It was one of the reasons I asked you to come with me to the market. I also ended up getting it cause I thought it would be brownie points for if I had actually done something wrong. I also got brownies… for extra brownie points.” he, totally nonchalantly, winks at you. 

Maybe this won’t be so bad. You’ll be his and he’ll be yours and it will be simple. You truly did feel a lot for him, which was scary. But it’ll be worth it. It will also be worth all the teasing from your families and friends. When you’re with him, you still get butterflies and that in itself makes up for the lost time. And you won’t lie, you’d missed all those years spent apart. Now you’ve got each other and that’s all that matters. From kids to teenagers to adults, everything changed except for one thing, the love you had for the other.

[fastandcarlos]

First Newborn Moments : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: the first moments for you both after the emotional arrival of your daughter

No words could describe how you felt as your eyes glanced down to the little girl in your arms, everything that you had ever wanted. Charles was sat by your side, leaning across with wide eyes, studying the features of your daughter in awe. 

“Can you believe it?” You whispered across to Charles, unable to hide the smile on your face. “She’s just so perfect, so small, and beautiful, more than I could’ve ever imagined.” 

Charles nodded in agreement with you, brushing his hand over the top of her head. He didn’t know where to look as he took it all in, her brown eyes, the little dimple in her cheek, the way her mouth was slightly parted as she slept, it was all too much like a dream. 

“I feel like someone’s going to come in soon and wake me up,” Charles spoke, “tell me this is all some sort of dream, I feel so lucky right now to have all of this.” 

“I promise you that it’s all real,” you whispered, resting your head down against Charles’ shoulder. 

It was the moment the two of you had talked about for so long during your pregnancy, wondering how it would be and how overwhelmed you’d feel. Neither of you had prepared yourselves for quite how incredible it would feel though to finally have your daughter with you. 

“Can we swap for a moment?” Charles asked, desperate to have a hold of your daughter too. You nodded, watching as he nervously stretched his arms out to take her. “What do I do?” He grinned as you placed her down, scared for you to let go and let him hold her alone. 

“Just make sure you support her, body and head,” you told him, placing his hands exactly where they needed to be before letting go. “See, you’re a natural.” 

As you moved away, Charles’ eyes were still full of worry, slowly bringing her in towards his chest. “She looks so frail and tiny, like she could break at any moment. I can’t believe I’m actually trusted to take care of such a little human being.” 

Charles had made no secret of the fact that he was scared, terrified of messing up or doing the wrong thing. You’d spent many late nights wide awake talking about his worries together, with you constantly being on hand to reassure him, reminding Charles that you both would be learning for some time, after all, no parent was perfect. 

Your smile was wide as your eyes stayed with Charles, admiring how fondly he looked down at her. “She’s already relaxed in her daddy’s arms; you must be doing something right.” 

“Beginner’s luck,” Charles sniggered, momentarily looking up and across at you. “I can’t wait for everyone to get here later, my brothers are going to crazy when they see how beautiful she is, they’re already slightly obsessed.” 

“She has no idea how lucky she is, does she?” You chuckled, watching as your daughter’s eyes fluttered shut. “She’s got the most loving family in the world, and yet she’s got absolutely no idea who any of us actually are yet.” 

Charles leant across and pressed a kiss against the side of your head. “I’m going to make sure that she grows up knowing exactly how incredible you are and how hard your body just worked to bring her into this world,” he proudly told you. 

To say things didn’t quite go as well as you expected was an understatement, labour had been nothing short of a nightmare for you both. It had left Charles terrified, constantly wondering what was going to happen as midwives ran around you until your daughter arrived. 

“I wish I could sleep like this,” Charles chuckled, “without a single care in the world.” 

“I feel like I could sleep as well as she is right now, I’m absolutely exhausted.” 

Charles’ concerned eyes immediately looked across at you, weakly smiling as he met your eyes. He could tell how sore you were, even if you weren’t going to admit it, wanting to savour every moment that you could of having your daughter there with you. 

A sigh came from Charles as you let go of a yawn, trying your best to disguise it behind your hand. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll wake you if anything happens,” Charles suggested, nodding in the direction of the pillow behind you. “You need to be looking after yourself right now, you’re just as important as this one is.” 

“I’ll get some rest soon, I promise. I mean, we should probably get used to the lack of sleep now, right?” 

A quiet chuckle came from Charles, not wanting to disturb your daughter. His worried eyes still watched you, only relaxing when you propped yourself up and rested in the bed again, stretching your legs out to try and wake your body back up again. 

“I can’t wait to take this one to the paddock, show her all the cool things that her daddy gets up to.” 

Your smile was wide as Charles’ eyes lit up, excited for all the things he had to look forward to with her. “She’s going to be absolutely spoilt by everyone at that paddock, I think you’ll be a forgotten man when we take her, no one will want to pay any attention to you, just to her.” 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Charles proudly shrugged. “Just as long as she knows that no matter how much anyone in that paddock tells her they love her, they don’t love her anywhere near as much as we do.” 

“Trust me, with the way I know you’re going to spoil her, she’s definitely going to be a daddy’s girl,” you teased, resting your hand against Charles’ shoulder. “I can already tell from the look in your eye that our little girl is going to have you absolutely wrapped around her little finger.” 

Charles nodded, there was no doubt about it that your little girl was his new weakness, knowing that he would never be able to say no to her. 

He couldn’t believe what he did to get so lucky, not just to have his daughter, but you as well. It was the sort of thing Charles always dreamt about, but knew would probably never come true. Only for him, it did, and it was better than he could have ever imagined. 

As your daughter settled, Charles leant over once again and pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered, taking you by surprise. “Thank you for everything, for loving me, taking care of me, and giving me the greatest gift in the world. Nothing will ever be good enough to show you how appreciative I am that you’ve just made me a dad.” 

Your smile was wide as you glanced back across at Charles, “you don’t need to thank me Charles. I should be thanking you for being here, right by my side, and getting me through the last nine months. I love you.” 

“I love you too, more than you’ll ever know.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[sweatyracoon]

Can u pls do a story where like Hyunjin/Lee know is touching u during class? (Pls I’m desperate😭😭😭)

Casual Distractions

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: I'm so sorry it took so long. Life has been kicking my ass. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: smut, public scenes, social anxiety, threesome? Mxm, bullying, language

You were new to this college, and it didn't help that the language was more than difficult to learn. You were nearly fluent, but knew nothing if the inside jokes or curse words, which was almost everyone your ages' dialogue.

You found it hard to make friends after the transfer, but one person was always kind to you.

His name was Han, and his English was perfect almost. He helped you out in certain course since you shared them, helping you with your pronunciation and all that jazz.

He eventually introduced you to his group of friends that had been together forever. Eight in total.

They were known as Strays. They couldn't be more different from one another. And to top it off, most of them knew English. Two were Australian, and one had lived in America for a short time.

Ironically near you, actually.

All of them were polite to you, but you kept your distance, not trying to force yourself in.

It had been months since you met them all, and it had become routine for you to sit with them in the cafeteria per Felix's request.

You still kept quiet, not confident on your Korean yet.

One day, you and Han were having a study session at your dorm, and got on the topic of crushes.

"If you had to pick between any of my friends, who would you want to fuck you?" He asked randomly, his face blank as if it were the most natural question.

You nearly choked on nothing, staring at him in shock.

"Excuse me?"

He looked at you, confused.

"I said, if one of my friends-"

"I know what you said, Han! But why?" You scoffed, jabbing at his shoulder playfully.

He pretended it hurt, sticking his tongue to you.

"Who do you think is hot? That's what I meant, y/n! Gosh," He grinned, watching your ears turn pink.

"What makes you think I like any of them?" You ask, your fingers fiddling with the edge of your textbook.

"Girl. It's a hypothetical question.." His eyes squint at you in silent question, and smile playing on his face.

You pause to think, unsure if you should tell him, knowing he was a blabber mouth. But you could easily say it was hypothetical just as Han did.

"Uhh, maybe....Hyunjin? Or-"

"I knew it! I knew you like him- wait did you just say 'or'?" He paused his prediction, wanting to hear who else you were going to say.

"I was gonna say, or Minho, Han."

You both sat there, looking at one another. He blinked while you shifted uncomfortably, not used to long periods of eye contact.

"Why him? Have either of you even said a word to one another?" He flicked at his pencil, holding it as if he were going to write.

"Not really...he's just gorgeous, you know?" You mutter, turning your attention back to your notebook. You felt judged despite them being friends. It almost seemed as if he were disappointed.

"Your right," you could hear the smile behind his words, making you look back up, returning it brightly.

"To be fair, though, we're all gorgeous, girly," He pitched his voice, flashing his undone nails making you cackle.

He lightened the mood knowing you weren't feeling right with how it was going. It was the main reason he was your best friend. He understood.

You both continued to joke and study, getting ready for the upcoming class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, the only class you don't have with Han is the class you have with Hyunjin and Minho, ironically.

Hyunjin always says hello, and Lee Know just nods at you with a smile, but today, neither of them did so.

You looked at them multiple times, noticing how they glanced at you some times. It made you nervous. You wondered if you did something wrong that offended them.

They never sat next to you, but today they seemed farther than usual.

Their shoulders raised higher than they should be, almost making it seem like they were out of breath.

You were about to text Han in question, but the teacher called you out.

"Y/n, please step outside for your phone call seeing as it is more important than class,"

You looked up, seeing everyone's head snap towards you. Your heart stopped, "No, I-" your words got caught in your throat as you cleared it loudly.

You felt your face flush.

Sighing in defeat, you grabbed your belongings and darted out the door, catching the way Lee Know and Hyunjin looked at you with what looked like pity.

You held your head low, sighing loudly when you reached the empty hallway.

You walked towards the girls restroom, stopping before the janitors closet, just hoping for some quiet.

It doesn't last long.

You heard a door snap from behind you, making you jump, turning to see if you were in anyone's way.

But it was just the two boys you had been worried about all day.

"You okay, y/ninnie? We saw you freeze in the back," Hyunjin observed, his hands in his pockets as he stood to your right, Minho on the other.

"Oh! Yeah, M'okay. Just want the world to swallow me right now," you chuckled, your shoulders deflating.

"Don't worry about that asshole, okay? Just giving you a hard time," Minho scoffed, staring at the door leading to his classroom.

"Why are you guys out here, though? He's going over the test on Monday." You wonder, not wanting them to fail because they were worried about you.

"We just wanted to see you," Hyunjin said, making you confused.

"See me? You see me every other day," you reply, tilting your head.

"We just have something on our minds I guess. You are the only person we can talk to about it though," Hyunjin grinned, nudging against Minho, who smiled wickedly next to him.

Your heart dropped.

"A little Birdy may have told us something you said from yesterday," Minho growled, bringing his arm to cage your left to the wall while Hyunjin did the same on the other side. You squeezed, making them chuckle.

"Hans a liar," you whispered, feeling your face warm up.

"Are you sure, baby? Cause we can give you what you want," Hyunjin groaned next to your ear, your body shivering in anticipation.

"I-I-" you stuttered, your breathing suddenly shallow as you try to clear your foggy mind.

"Relax," Minho whispered.

Thats when you heard a door handle turning behind you, the wall disappearing that held you, making you fall. But Hyunjin was behind you in seconds, gently bringing you to the tile floor in the closet, Minho closing and locking the door behind him.

You three had officially now moved out of the public eye, away from any onlookers.

"This okay, Princess?" Minho asks as he kneels next to you, your faces inches away.

You breathe out a shaky yes before he nods, looking at your lips then back to you.

He leans in, locking his lips with yours as he started gentle, quickly becoming more rough but the second.

You moaned into Minho as you felt another pair of hands fondling your clothes breasts.

Hyunjin took his time, not bothering to take of your shirt, hoping you wouldn't look like walking sex by the time they were done with you.

He wanted to feel your nipple between his teeth, but he told himself to wait. That they can have you properly after school.

Minho growled into the kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat as you panted into his mouth.

"Let me have a turn, hyung!" Hyunjin whined as he played with your clothes nubs.

Minho pulled himself off of you, grunting. You didn't like the loss if contact, grabbing at his forearms.

"Finally," Hyunjin chuckled, grabbing the back of your head to pull you into him.

His lips crashed against yours, the rhythm easy to control.

Lee Know took his chance to run his hand up your skirt, fisting the fabric of your underwear before pushing them aside.

He ran his fingers through your slick folds, moaning at the feeling of your excessive wetness.

He shoved his middle finger into your hole, pumping slowly as Hyunjin sucked the air from you.

You were both moaning, the kiss getting sloppier until it was just wet pecks.

"Feel good, baby?" Hyunjin asked as he listened to Minho add another finger, the slickness making a sinful sound in the quiet closet."S'good,"

Your head tilted back, Hyunjin takes his chance to nip at your collar bone, leaving a trail of marks. He tried keeping them close to your neckline, hoping you could hide them.

You grabbed at his hair with a moan, pulling it gently as Minho quickened his pace.

He groaned against your neck, teeth scraping against the purple spots now blossoming on your neck.

They both kept at it until you felt the knot forming in your stomach.

"There!" You plead, Lee Know hitting your g-spot roughly now with three fingers.

"Here, baby?" He teases, now hitting it harder.

You were writhing underneath them as you felt your wife snap, your high washing over you suddenly.

Your body shook from overstimulation, nearly crying as they pushed themselves from you after you came down.

"That felt so good," You mutter, your eyes fluttering shut.

They both smirked at one another.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Minho pushing his wet fingers into Hyunjins mouth, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you.

The sight of them being intimate made your hole clench around nothing.

"Come over after school?" You asked them quietly, and try both nodded.

"we'll make you feel a lot more, I promise," Hyunjin smirked, pecking your lips gently. Minho did the same, helping you up.

All the way to class, you could feel your slick drip down lower on your thigh, making you both embarrassed and aroused as you thought about what they would do to you.

[inkskinned]

most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.

i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.

sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.

repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.

but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.

it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.

i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.

my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.

back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.

hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.

it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.

the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.

i love you, keep going.

[madamechrissy]

Keep This Low Key

💜 Pairings: Choso x F!reader- and Gojo x reader- Rating: Explicit- MDNI

💜 Contents/Warnings: Remember this is a slow burn. You'll hate Cho in this and reader lol. In this chapter, blow jobs, sixty nine, kissing, fingering and play. Jealous angst. Warning- the reader and Choso are with other ppl (intimately- reader w/Gojo in this chap- cho w/Amber) They're idiots. Plz don't read if upset about this kind of thing, Cho and reader are NOT dating but still. HEAVY ANGST this chap like I cried writing it.

💜 Word Count: this chap - 10.8k (longest so far!)

💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea. Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other?

No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?

✨️Comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoy ✨️

Chapter Three 💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜

Chapter Four

Choso’s POV

Choso and you are out shopping at the mall, it’s been so long since you all have done this, used to be a frequent occurrence for you. You both walk into Hot Topic, you giggle at the memories in the dark store with the blaring emo music, fingers brushing against a black anime shirt as Choso starts looking at some of the black spiky bracelets on the racks.

“God, too many memories here.” He muses, looking at you with a little smile, you’re so pretty today, you’re just in some ripped jeans and a band tee, his band on you, more like how he remembers you. Though Choso adores each and every version of you over the many years, something is so sweet when you’re comfortable and casual with him like this.

“A lot of memories.” You agree, bending over then, those jeans are tight and form fitting, and the sight of your ass like this?

After he’d literally edged you a week ago, you all had done nothing but hang out, the entire time he’s constantly dying to taste you again, to touch you, but it seemed like you weren’t backing down, and neither was he. He feels horrible that you saw that kiss, the kiss that happened because the thought of you with Gojo had him feeling so petty, so stupid.

Now to think you saw him? How did it make you feel? How did Gojo make you feel, having left a bruise on your pretty neck, how did you like kissing him? The thoughts are destroying him, it’s as if you won’t leave his head, leave his every dream, he can practically taste you in his memories on his tongue. Like some drug he’s now addicted to but can’t have.

And you’re right there, but not there. You’re a little distant, and it breaks him, it confuses him, did you not want him anymore? Was Gojo in your head like high school, should he protect his heart? A million questions enter Choso’s already scattered brain while studying your delicate features, your pretty face that won’t leave his brain for even a second.

Sleeping with you had made every feeling from high school come back with a vengeance, and knowing Gojo is in the picture is torture, it’s as if you’re just out of reach, and now he knows that he hurt you too. After you all slept together and you had run, he’d been so upset, so worried about it, and you must have thought he had just dismissed what happened.

Choso jerked off before even coming to get you today, he’d hoped it would give him just a little clarity, but you fuck his mind up any which way. Just inhaling your scent when you hug him, that fruity shampoo you use, whatever body spray it is you’ve used since school days, takes over his senses, whatever he has left of them. Just feeling your warm body, your soft skin.

You walk up to him now, brushing against him, looking at the bracelets he’s completely forgotten about. “Those are so cool! You should get em, Cho bear.”

“You think so?” You nod, and he hums to himself, peeking over at them and snatching them up. “If you like them.”

“I do! Ugh we spent so much time here, oh and Spencers! We should go there next.” You giggle, the sound so pleasing to his ears, especially since you’ve been a little quiet and distant this week. He looks down at you, your eyes are glittering, you’re biting your lower lip.

“We will. What about this shirt, isn’t that your anime husbando?” You laugh at that, nodding. “Grab that one then. Oh, this skirt…”

“It’s too short!”

“Could wear it around me.” He says before he thinks better, and watches you blush all over as you do, down your neck and even your chest, while he holds up the little pink plaid skirt with chains.

“Wear it around you, why?” You finger the material, shyly looking down, Choso steps closer, leaning down and grabbing your hip, you suck in a breath, and he feels your body tense.

“Why wouldn’t I wanna see you in that? Die to see your pretty legs in it-” His phone starts ringing now, making him take a breath and a step back, you curiously look at it, lips tensing just a bit.

“Ah, is that the girlfriend?” You ask, putting the skirt on the wrack and turning away from him.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He wants you as his girlfriend, god it’s not even a good enough word for what he really wants, but how does he even say it!? How can he ruin you being in his life, what if he’s not ‘manly’ enough for you, too? What if he’s not good enough!?

He gulps down his words as you turn back and look at it, ringing again. “Well you can answer it, I’m just your friend remember, no biggie.” Your words make him sick to his stomach, churning all around, sure it’s true but…

Fuck, it hurts.

He doesn’t even care for this girl either way, she’s some distraction, and she’s overtly distracting him. She’s a huge fan of his band and has been, so she’s quite annoyingly persistent. She’s sweet and very pretty, but god just look at you, at how beautiful you are just existing near him, in his orbit, pulling him in with that gravity you’re clueless of.

Having pushed you in the dark recesses of his mind for so long and forcing himself to see you as a best friend had been so difficult, but since your intimacy it’s become impossible. It’s as if you both opened some can of worms you really should not have, but now he’s dying to do it again, again, again.

He wants you to cum all over his cock again, fuck especially without the protection, so insane it had felt, the only time he had done so. He wants to fill you up full of his cum, watch it ooze out of your perfect little cunt, just to put more loads inside of you. You do something to him Yuki never did, no one ever has, it’s things he didn’t even know he craved.

“Cho, it’s three calls, answer.” You sound irritated then, Choso sighs.

“It’s rude.”

“It’s not, go ahead.” Choso steps out now, taking a breath of air and entering the busy mall right outside of the open Hot Topic doors.

“Hello?” He asks, he hopes he doesn’t sound rude, but he’s annoyed that she’s called so much.

“Choso! Oh my god, listen, I have such a good gig for you all. I just had to tell you!” Amber says, oh yeah that’s her name… Choso forgets, it seems the only name ingrained in his mind is yours now.

“Oh shit, what is it?” He asks, he’s excited for such an opportunity, Amber has a lot of connections as well, but he is looking at you as you’re making purchases, curious what you got yourself. The cashier is making eyes at you, but who wouldn’t?

“It’s at a huge venue for the rockfest coming up! They said they’d love to have you, but you will have to come meet them so we can register and prep. Are you down this afternoon?” Choso pauses, he’d promised you the day together, you both had wanted to do the mall, food and hit the movies.

But the rockfest is huge and the biggest event there is for discovering new rock bands, with heavy hitters everywhere. He’s absolutely sure Megumi and Yuji will lose their minds when he tells them. “That’s an insane opportunity, you don’t have to do all of this you know.”

“Of course I do, I believe in you. Also, I’d love to see you again.” Her voice drops a suggestive octave, you come out with a little smile now, standing next to him and poking around on your phone.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be there. Can you shoot me a text with what time and where?”

“Sure thing, love. See you soon!” She hangs up now, and you frown a bit when Choso sighs.

“Everything okay?” You ask softly, a hand on his arm.

“Good news, she actually got me a gig opportunity at the rockfest coming up next week.”

“Oh my god that’s amazing!” You hug him, giggling, god you feel good against him. “I can’t wait! Listen I just bought you a bunch of bracelets and rings, you need new ones.”

You hand him the little bag to open, full of far too many of them, making him melt from such a cute gesture, you always do this when you two go shopping.  “No, don’t buy things for me!”

“They’re all cheap, silly.”

“But you didn’t get yourself anything.” He peers in the bag, you apparently decided against that skirt that would look so sexy on you. You usually don’t get yourself anything do you? You shrug a shoulder, smiling a bit.

“I’m good, Cho. I didn’t see anything that I needed. Um… ooh Spencers though, is that our next adventure? Oh my God, remember the adult section the first time we snuck in?” You ask, whispering conspiratorially, he laughs then, as the text pops up, and he sees he needs to be there in two hours.

“Shit, so the meeting is in two hours though.” You blink a bit.

“With your… blond friend?”

“Amber, yeah.”

“Amber.” You murmur. “Oh then… I guess get me home so you can get ready.” You start heading away, and Choso grabs your arm then.

“No, we can hit at least one more store!”

“No, you need to get dressed, get there… I definitely don’t want to delay a big opportunity for something-” His phone goes off again, and it’s a selfie of Amber, sticking her tongue out and in a bustier that hides nothing, saying she can’t wait to see him, and he watches your face fall as your eyes hit the screen.

“I don’t know why she’s sending selfies, it really is for the band I-”

“No need to explain. It’s cool.” You walk further, and he senses it, you’re upset, and what do you do when upset?

Run from him.

Choso catches up with you, his hand grabbing yours, and you stare at it for a moment, before looking back up at him, emotion making your eyes glassy, breaking his heart then, his chest feels like something is squeezing it, his throat closing up. But what you say and how you look at him don’t match, they don’t compute, and he doesn’t know how you feel.

“Come with me then! I would love it if you were there, and we can still spend the day.” He offers, but you gently pull your little hand out of his grip, walking out of the doors now, heading toward where he parked.

“No, it’s important shit. And she’d like you to herself I am sure, sounds… awkward I don’t know, spending time with you and her.” Choso runs to open the passenger door before you can touch the handle. “Thanks, Cho.”

The ride is quiet, far too fucking quiet, and when he puts a hand on your thigh over the denim, you just stare out the window quietly. There’s music playing but all he can hear is his heart racing, worrying he’s messed something up again, worrying about you and your feelings, confused and feeling like he just doesn’t know what the fuck he’s really doing.

“Am I fucking up our friendship?” He asks, and you look at him then, hand coming on top of his, exhaling.

“No, never. I’m sorry, I’ve been a little in my head.” He nods, looking at the road, feeling your fingers brush his knuckles, he nears your home which is spo close by, he’s been here a million times, it’s like clockwork to go there.

“We can always talk, you know.” He says, you just nod a bit, putting on a fake smile, he knows it’s fake, because that genuine one you just had at the mall has now completely vanished.

“It’s just in my head I think, my… thoughts.” After some more quiet, you both pull up. He tilts his head, leaning close as you unsnap your seatbelt.

“I’m always here. I’ll make it up to you, we can go out tonight to grab a bite to eat you think?”

“I’m sure she’ll want to. Don’t worry.” Your face is tight, your voice quiet,

“But I want to spend time with you. I miss you.”

“Cho, we just spent time…”

“I miss you.” He says again, you falter, when he leans close, cupping your face in his big tattooed hand, thumb brushing on your jaw.

“You want a good luck blowjob huh.” You tease, but your words are serious, he can feel them.

“A good luck kiss, only if you want to.” He murmurs, eyeing your plump lower lip, glossy as you run your tongue across them.

“You wanna kiss me?” He wants to laugh at that, how the fuck do you think he doesn’t always want to kiss you? Not just during sex, during any moment. “Thought it was just when we want to fuck.”

“Well do you even want to kiss me?”

“Of course I do.” You rest your forehead against his, leaning close, your noses just barely touching. “I’m aching for you.”

“Then why the distance?” His eyes lock on yours, pulling back, trying to study your beautiful face for some clue.

“I just thought I was being too much, and how you left things…”

“I’m sorry, I was being an ass. Edging your perfect pussy that way.” You exhale, leaning further, as his hand slips up your thigh, gripping your ass, pulling you further towards him, you let out this sexy little cry. “Let me make it up to you tonight, please… I’ll make you feel so good.”

“If we kiss and don’t… aren’t we breaking a rule?” You ask, and he wonders at these idiotic rules, were they so he didn’t fall for you?

They were failing.

“A prelude to tonight then.”

“You can kiss Amber though.” He scowls now. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, I’d love to kiss you, I love your lips, that tongue ring.” Your little fingers drift across them. “But just being honest, especially after that picture, she’s pretty hot you know.”

Choso glares more, tilting your chin up to look at him, as the car softly hums and he’s pressing you against him as much as he can in his little car. “I asked if I could get a kiss from you. You. Not her.”

You lean up, brushing your lips against his gently, pulling back and then leaning in again, another sweet brush, that destroys him then, his mind turns to complete mush as he feels the sensation of your lips. He exhales, dragging you onto his lap before he can think better, hands cupping your face and kissing over and over, as you press against his lap.

“Fuck you taste so good.” He murmurs, sweet like some sort of cherries, you whine out now, straddling him in tight jeans, your heat pressing against his clothed cock, making his cock strain from just that.

“Cho…” You whimper now, rolling your hips, kissing him messier, more desperate now, tongue all sloppy as you play with his hair with teasing fingers. Choso’s hands find purchase against the nip at your waist, pressing into your ribcage and earning a little sigh of pleasure when he gently presses you down more. “Mnh.”

“Lemme get you off, please.” You shake your head, taking a breath and leaning back.

“It’s fine, I’m fine- ah!” Choso’s grinding you against him, tip of him pressing against your folds, watching your eyes roll back, hair falling like a curtain as your back arches, he slides up your shirt, revealing a black lacy bra over your perfect tits, he begins to lavish your nipples one by one.

“Pretty titties… perfect little angel.” He watches you melt, your hands enwrapping in his long hair he wore loose today, manicured nails barely pressing against his scalp, just like when he’d drunk your juices out of your pussy last week.

“Please.” Is all you manage to whisper, Choso eagerly grinds you more against him, your breath catching, hot sticky wetness gathering on your panties when his fingers slip under the waistband of your jeans, he groans as he feels you. “Please, Cho… need you.”

“I need you to cum for me.” He presses his thumb on your clit, feeling your damn and sticky underwear, your slick drooling, he watches as your eyes dilate, and you keep grinding on his hard cock, that’s desperate to slide inside you.

His phone rings as you’re kissing him again, and he goes to turn it off on his car screen, only for Amber’s voice to ring out in the car, making you halt. “Cho, did you get the address love?”

You freeze now, he watches everything shift as you do, you quickly hop off his lap, zipping yourself up with shaky hands. “Yes I have it, Amber I’m busy-”

“You’re not busy.” You whisper, and Choso’s mouth drops open when you rush out of the car, he gets out and follows you right to your porch, you turn and shake your head with a fake smile. “Go, Cho. Tell me how it goes.”

“Will you stop running!? All the time!” He grabs your shoulders, and you can still hear her voice from the car, looking at it and then back at him.

“You’re confusing me. You say one thing and do another.”

“What!? What do you even mean?”

“You’re clearly very close, love, getting damn near naked pics, calling you three times in a row, then calling again?”

Choso scowls now. “And you and Gojo?”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “I haven’t talked to him since you edged me last week, I thought you were mad, I thought you… wanted me… to…”

You’re tearing up now, breaking Choso into pieces as he watches you, so fragile. He tries to cup your face but you push him away, sniffling now. “Please, please don’t cry, just talk to me. I thought you were still talking to him?”

“No! Because I thought you were wanting to be more. But I’m a fucking idiot oh my god. I’m just some fun distraction.”

“What do you mean, I thought you wanted just friends? You-”

“And we will be just friends. I won’t do that again.” You swipe at your eyes, and Choso’s heart breaks as it beats even.

“You’re always confusing me-”

“No, no it’s you who is confusing this. Acting like you think I’m so beautiful, making me feel that way, special. You shouldn’t do that to casual fucks.”

“You are beautiful, so beautiful god why can’t you see this? You are special, more special than almost anyone in my life. I don’t know how you think you’re not. Fuck this let me push this off-”

“No. It’s important. Even if I’m upset I’d never put your music off.” You take a shaky breath, kissing his cheek. “Amber’s upset. Go, and good luck.”

“Please, angel-” You shut the door quickly, rushing in your home, Choso’s hand is pressed on the door, leaning his head on it. “Please, let me in, let me talk to you. You’re wrong, I swear you are.”

You say nothing, Choso tries to knock, feeling emotions catch in his throat, but you say nothing, he can faintly hear a cry from there, pushing him to feel even worse. You weren’t even talking to Gojo!? And here he was, he’s been texting and calling Amber this entire time, but you…

“Please. Just talk to me, or I won’t go.” You open the door, tears streaking your cheeks.

“You’re being petty.”

“Yeah, I am.” He swipes the emotion from his eyes.

“Go, I want you to, I’m f-fine. I just… I thought we… just go.” Choso steps in, cupping your face again, thumbs brushing the apples of your cheeks. “Don’t do that, don’t look like that at me. We are only friends.”

Choso scoffs now. “I want you to cum on my face, on my cock, I want you moaning and writhing under me.” He presses you against the doorway, feels your desire with your every breath, but you shake your head, pushing on him.

“It hurts too much. I thought I could, but I can’t separate it. It’s too much for me, the desire… the feelings.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

Choso blinks in surprise. Could you possibly have some feelings for him!? Was it more than… “Feelings?”

“Cho, go. I’ll be fine.” You kiss his cheek now, how you used to, Choso gulps down the emotions.

“I can’t leave you like this.”

“I’m your friend. That’s it. We’ll do food and movies another day, yeah?” You gently push him out your door, smiling tremulously. “I think I’m PMSing, I don't know. I’m cool if you talk to her, fuck her whatever. Just tell me I guess.”

“Fuck her?”

“It’s cool, I swear. Go kill it, Cho bear.” You shut your door, he hears your lock click this time, your steps echoing.

He feels like a part of him is ripped in half in your absence, driving with no music, your sweet scent lingering in his car, your tears lingering in his mind. He had you in his lap, on his lips, isn't this what you both wanted, to have sex with no complications… but there are more and more complications every moment. And he left you there, to cry, sure you told him to leave, but this gnawing instinct makes him wish he had stayed.

Your POV

You see Cho and Amber on Instagram a couple hours later, with two huge Rockstars from popular bands that are running the show. You want to be so happy for him, and sure you are, but his hand on Amber's waist makes you ill, the way her hand is on his chest!? You can't stomach it.

You keep checking, wondering if Choso would message you. Call you. But the only messages are from Utahime and Satoru Gojo, who you've ignored ALL fucking week, waiting on Cho to make a move, only for him to have been clearly talking to this girl very regularly.

Sweet Cho Bear may be great as a friend and superb at fucking, but he seems to be the worst thing that could have happened to your mind. The way he so casually hurts you and puts you second is damn near debilitating, you’re tired of crying in your bed over him, when he was once the one who would comfort you, who would hold you while you cried over a boy.

Now Cho is that boy, and you're a whole idiot. You still can’t even process exactly what it is you’re feeling, was it just how good Choso made you feel? Is that all this was, a confusion from lack of experience, and his stupidly good skills? Or is it the moment you kiss him, and want nothing more than to lose yourself in him, when you feel his heartbeat against you…

When you call Utahime back on Facetime, she gasps when she sees you in tears. “Was it Gojo? Imma kill him.”

“No, no… it’s Cho.”

“Choso, what’d that sweet boy do!?”

“Ugh.” You take a breath, setting Utahime down on your dresser, deciding to start putting on makeup to hide your tired eyes and tear streaked face. “He’s got this girl, Amber, I saw them kiss.”

“Shit… but you all are friends with benefits not…”

“Yeah, I know. But ‘Hime, I felt so special, the way he looks at me.” You’re sniffling, and then you peek at Amber’s IG, poking around, jaw setting when on her Instagram she’s kissing Choso’s cheek. “Look at this.”

You send it to her, Utahime’s eyes narrow. “Okay no, that’s… I thought he didn’t wanna date? Wasn’t that the point?”

“Right, nothing serious. But she called him four times in one outing, fuck she came through the car bluetooth and cockblocked me.”

“Shit. Babe maybe no more sex, before you ruin your friendship, I’d hate you two not being friends.”

“I know, I know. I told him no more, I don’t think he got it though, he seems to say one thing and do another, and I’m just tired. And as for Gojo, I blew him off all week because I misread what Choso meant.”

“Well it’s still fuck Gojo till it’s backwards- and I don’t mean actually fuck him.” You snort.

“You just hate him.”

“Sure do.”

“But I’m feeling petty, and horny. And mad as fuck. Am I immature?” Utahime sighs.

“You and Choso both are naive little babies I think. Have you tried telling him how you feel?”

“He doesn’t feel that way, clearly. Look.” You send another pic now, one that Choso and Amber are tagged in, with the group of people preparing press for the show, Choso looks so fucking good, despite the girl clinging to him.

“Ah. Babe if you fuck Gojo I’ll come smack you I know this hurts but…”

“I’m not gonna fuck him, ‘Hime. Just maybe hang out and take an Insta pic and post it.” She smirks as you do.

“You petty ass bitch.”

“Bitch!”

“Fine. You have my blessing to be petty, but no dick.”

“Yes mommy.” You feel so much better, sighing. “Come see me when you get in tomorrow, please!”

“I will. Love you.” You disconnect the phone, peering at it to see if Choso has said any fucking thing to you, but you imagine he’s busy. He posts about the event, tagging Yuji and Megumi.

Nice to know the support you’ve always given him isn’t shit compared to a new pretty fan with connections. You yank off his band shirt, throwing it across the room, when Satoru’s text comes in.

Jock Gojo- you can’t stay angry at me I’m too pretty.

You find yourself giggling, rolling your eyes.

You- I’m not even angry, just had a lot on my mind.

Jock Gojo- Let me fuck your brains out then?

You- Nvm fuck you actually.

Jock Gojo- You’re punishing me :’( for being a dick on prom.

You snap off your bra, giggling a bit when he calls.

“What’s up?” You ask, popping him on speaker.

“Thinking about this mean girl, she was a nerd goodie goodie. She has a really nice ass…”

“Stop it!” You burst out laughing, slipping off your jeans now.

“Whatchya wearing?”

“Just panties right now.” You hear him exhale.

“You’re trying to kill me.” The flattery is getting you, especially feeling so damn inadequate with Choso right now.

“I am sorry I blew you off, it wasn’t you though. Do you wanna… I don’t know, catch up?” You’re digging through your closet now, tilting your head as you peer at the bevy of dresses you’ve bought for when you were with Ino.

“I’d love that. Are you free tonight? We can grab something to eat, see a movie… I dunno whatever you want. You can suck my dick in the theater!?” You snort again at him, rolling your eyes.

“You’re ridiculous, Satoru. But… yeah I’m down to go out. A movie doesn’t sound bad at all.” That’s what you and Choso were supposed to do, see the new Star Wars movie that’s out.

“It’s a date then. Wear something easy-access.”

“Oh whatever, you’re so dumb.” He laughs softly, the sound is always pleasing, Satoru’s voice is pleasing altogether with its deep timbre. “What time?”

“Well what movies are out?”

“Star Wars!”

“Nerdy ass. Fine.” You giggle now.

“I was supposed to go with Cho but he’s… got this girl and also a whole gig going for the band. We can see something else though?”

“I don’t mind. Alright I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

“Sure.” You both hang up, you keep looking through your wardrobe until you come upon a cute plaid skirt, similar to what Choso wanted you to buy, but this hit mid thigh versus exposing all of your ass.

The thoughts make your cheeks heat up, then your tummy clench, how he’d just been kissing you, touching you. For him, you suppose, he truly could be a friend with benefits, but you fail at it completely, and though you certainly don’t plan on fucking Gojo, you’re curious at things.

Could you feel good with someone else?

“Hey sweets… I need all this candy.” You and Satoru are checking into the movie, his hand resting at your waist.

“They overprice the candy!”

“I’m rich, I don’t care.” Satoru buys a copious amount of candy and then two giant slushies, amusing the fuck out of you.

“Is one for me?” You ask teasingly.

“No way.” He hands you a slushie and you have to admit you feel a little giddy and excited, which is lovely after feeling so down earlier. Satoru is basically a big damn kid and his energy is infectious. You’re shoving thoughts of Choso way down when Satoru nudges you as you all walk toward the theater.

You take a sip of your slushie, looking at him curiously. “What?”

“Your friend, yeah?” You blink and see him then, holding hands with her, in line to check in for a movie at the opposite side of the theater.

So…

Choso blew you off, didn’t see a movie with you and is instead with Amber, and isn’t even seeing Star Wars!??!

“Hey buddy!”

“Satoru no…” You hiss but he’s waving with a box of candy. Choso looks at him curiously, then at you, his jaw tensing, Amber bounces over, looking at Satoru and then you with a pretty grin.

“Oh damn, I guess I don’t have to worry about you, dating this hottie.” She clings to Choso and winks at Satoru, you feel sick to your fucking stomach, the one gulp of that drink you took making you want to now vomit.

“We’re not dating yet, she’s mean to me. And she’s a nerd and was dying to see Star Wars. You now pew pew pew.” Satoru starts acting like his candy is a lightsaber, you’d be laughing if you didn’t wanna punch your own friend in the face.

“Can we talk for a minute?” Choso asks, and you shrug, stepping aside and touching Satoru on the shoulder gently, earning Choso’s anger directed right at you.

“Be back?”

“Sure thing.” Satoru says.

Choso and you step aside just a bit, laugh without humor. “You’re not even seeing it? Even if you didn’t wanna go with me, you are seriously missing it altogether?” You ask quietly, and Choso shakes his head quickly, glaring over at Gojo.

“You said you didn’t want to go out tonight, remember? I wanted to go with you after.” His words are soft, as Satoru and Amber start giggling about something.

“Because it’d apparently be me as a third wheel. Damn.” You scoff, and Choso steps up to you closer, his violet eyes glossy with worry.

“I thought you were done with-”

“Yeah the Instagram pictures made me realize maybe I need to move on from whatever the fuck this is.” You hiss the words quietly, Choso steps back, hurt clear on his face.

“I wrote you.”

“You didn’t-”

“I did!”

You pull out your phone, seeing his several texts now, but you were so mad you put him on mute. You gulp, scrolling through as he repeatedly asks you out to eat, as he asks if you’re home, as he asks if you’re upset with him. You see sad emojis and heart emojis and ‘angel’ please messages, making you feel a pit in your stomach, but where had these been all day?

“Ah, well I didn’t see, but whatever. Have fun.” You turn to step away, and Choso gently touches your hand.

“You’re mad when you’re here with him?” He asks, and it’s your turn to narrow your eyes at him.

“I blew him off a week for some dumb idea that maybe you wanted to date.” You whisper, and he blinks, opening his mouth, but you hold up your hand. “This was a huge mistake, though you’re a great friend, I can’t just fuck you, I felt too much.”

“You think I don’t feel things for you? You think you aren’t in my mind?” He leans low, and you step back to breathe.

“If we want to stay friends we can never do it again.” Choso’s eyes get wide, you watch his lip tremble just slightly.

“Do you not want me anymore?” He asks, and you shake your head, disbelieving he can’t notice what he does to you when he’s touching you.

“I wanted you too much. I was stupid, not you, you’re great at it, at sex… at being unaffected, nonchalant. At doing your thing. I am the one that couldn’t do it. So we should forget it all, every bit.” You hate the words spilling from your lips, but you know they’re necessary.

“Forget it?” You nod now, trembling as you stand there, your heart pounding out of your damn chest. “How can I forget you in that way, your taste, your lips on mine… your body? How your back arches as I’m making you cum?”

His words make your mind flit with images, you shake your head, shutting your eyes and pushing them away as much as you can. God just with words he fucked you up. “You’d had to forget it when you and Amber fuck anyway, so work on it.” Choso gasps softly, his handsome face falling.

“So it meant nothing.” Choso’s words are broken, but it’s just not fair to say it like that, it’s not fair to do this to your heart, you know him and have known him, so you know it’s not intentional. But it doesn’t make it hurt less.

“It meant too much.” You step away then, putting on a little smile, walking back to Gojo and putting your arm in his as you look at Amber, who’s clinging to Choso when he walks back up. “I hope you guys have fun, can’t wait for the concert.”

“You should bring him!” She pokes at Gojo with a giggle.

“I think I will.” Choso glares at you, the look of fucking death, and you get some small satisfaction that you shouldn’t.

You’re done being dickmatized by your best friend, you’re done falling for him so fast and so hard, you’re done with all the feelings that have been driving you since Senior year of high school pooling at once. When he’d let you know so casually he was in love with Yuki, and if he’d wanted you all this time, why did he never make a move?

“Sounds good man I love to see ya play.” Satoru is so unbothered, you wish you could have a teeny bit of that yourself.

“Appreciate it. Have fun, angel.” He says to you now, right in front of both of them in a soft tone, you catch his eyes and feel every emotion, you feel the weight of such simple words, like he’s claiming you his, like he’s telling you so much more without saying it truly.

“Have fun Cho bear.” You say with a bright smile, so fake, and you can tell he knows it’s fake by his frown, but Amber is tugging him away.

“So… he was the fuck buddy.”

“Satoru!” You smack at him, he just smirks, shaking his head.

“It’s obvious.”

You sigh, handing the usher your tickets as you and Choso walk your separate ways, as you always have you suppose, it was foolish to think so much would change from a couple of experiences. He was so in love with Yuki he was about to buy her a fucking ring, of course he was upset that night, and it had been you who brought it up, not him.

You caused this.

“I’m sorry maybe I should’ve told you?”

“Nah, we’re on date number two, and I told you I have regulars. Not that I’ve been with them all week.” You raise your brows in surprise, Satoru pops down in the theater, with big recliner seats, you both settle in and ease back.

“Oh? Actually, me either.” Satoru slurps on his drink, sticking out his tongue now and making you laugh softly as the lights dim.

“Blue! Like my balls after our date.”

“Oh god.” You shake your head, and you picture it, Choso next to you so fucking excited, the both of you have seen every single Star Wars movie absolutely ever, this was the first he’s missing.

You can’t even be mad at him, Amber is pretty, clingy and not in a friend zone like you. If you both were meant to be, wouldn’t you have by now? But your mind drifts to him, missing him though you’ve seen him all day, but it’s Satoru Gojo sitting next to you, annoyingly whispering every time a character pops up, asking who the hell any of them are.

But it’s not annoying then, it’s nice. You could be alone, and not with a handsome, tall white haired little shit, your first kiss. Satoru could have been your first everything, but of course you weren’t ready back then. He has a big hand on your bare thigh, thumb brushing against your skin in little circles, as he’s popping candy into his mouth, making you wonder at his metabolism.

“Who’s that!? Is that yoda?” You giggle quietly, leaning on him.

“Grogu. It’s like a baby yoda.”

“It’s cute! I want one.” You nod in agreement.

“So cute, right? He’s actually old though.”

“Explain, I’m so interested.” His fingers slide higher, making you tremble now, you take several breaths, as they dance against your skin, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches.

“Are you now?” You find yourself leaning against him, kissing a little trail up his cheek and ear, his fingertips press into the plush of your thigh as you do, that little shitty guilty feeling gnawing at even that.

And why?

You and Choso were friends and you yourself had said ‘no attachments, no emotions, no drama’ and couldn’t make it past three times fucking him (and two ridiculous times of him eating you out… fuck it makes you clench thinking of it) and you caught feelings. It’s pathetic that it happened so fast for you, but how could someone not fall for Choso Kamo? He certainly doesn’t even comprehend the effects he has on people.

“Mmm…” Satoru’s little breathy cry does something to you, as do his fingers brushing higher when you nip on his earlobe, before turning your eyes back to the movie and holding his hand. “Fuck.”

He leans to you now, kissing a trail up your neck, you all are not surrounded by anyone at all where you are and hidden mostly in the recliners, you let your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your neck, when his tongue laps out at your skin, and he’s slipping the hand up further. You’ve been edged twice this week, you can’t help but shift your hips closer.

Satoru kisses you lazy and sensually, biting your lower lip between his teeth, then lapping his tongue along it, cupping your face, you’re enjoying his kisses, the butterflies he stirs even after years. Satoru may have been an asshole back in high school, but he was a hell of a distraction right now, especially when he’s rubbing you over lacy panties.

“You’re gonna distract me from… the…” You’re trying to keep in your little cry, biting your lip when he presses on your clothed clit, finding you damp and sticky, he exhales against your ear now.

“You’re so wet, though. Need me to take care of you?” He asks, you tense then just a bit, but your body reacts, getting wetter and wetter with his practiced circles, he slips his fingers under them now, finding your bare pussy.

“Not saying so.” He laughs, kissing you again, you cry out ever so softly into his lips, hips rolling as his finger teases your entrance.

“She says so.” You lose yourself for a moment, before getting a bit of a clear head, realizing where you all are, he slips a finger inside your slick walls, you clench around the invasion of it, long and sinking deep. “Fuck you’re tight.”

“We shouldn’t here, though.” He pouts in the dark theater.

“You’re mean to her.” He sucks on his finger now, and the sight of Satoru’s pouty lips licking your arousal fucks you up, your brain short circuits for a minute. “You’re as sweet as these candies, fuck.”

“You do go on.” You kiss yourself off him now, before shifting your skirt down a bit, blushing in the darkness. “Okay I need a sec.”

“Gotta play with your pussy?”

“Shush!” You sneak past him, he’s grinning all handsome, and for a moment you think, fuck this is nice, and maybe you could forget this feeling for Choso.

Until you walk by him heading out of the bathroom.

You turn away, and he’s calling your name softly. “What?”

“Can we talk tonight, please?” He asks, standing just a little away from you, the theater is empty as everyone is nestled inside each show, just a person or two walking across.

“What’s there to talk about?” His dark brows lower.

“You really don’t ever want to again? To feel that again?” He cups your chin in his hand, tilting your gaze up to him, to your sweet best friend that currently makes your mind haywire.

“Of course I do. But it means more to me than it does to you.”

“How do you even know that? Have you asked me?”

“I can clearly see, each time we do something you have no problem being with another girl.”

“We haven’t-”

“It doesn’t matter. We won’t again, go enjoy your movie Cho bear.”

“I hurt you.” His words make you pause, you shake your head quickly. “I have hurt you, I can tell it. Written all over your beautiful fucking face.”

“Don’t say shit like that. I’m trying to get over you.” He blinks in confusion, you turn away and he follows you in the damn bathroom. “Choso, seriously, leave me the fuck alone.”

“Get over me? Get over what, being my friend?” You lean against the sink, looking at him exasperatedly.

“I’m still your friend. I always will be. It was a mistake, everything.” You hate that the tears are back.

“How was that a fucking mistake? Feeling you cum around my cock like that, drinking you up?” You whine pathetically when his hands are cupping your face, and he’s bent so low. “No way it’s normal to feel that.”

“So what, you’re saying I’m good in bed? Thanks Cho, so are you, but we can’t do it. I can’t hurt like this. Now go.”

“So you can be with Gojo?” You shove him then, you shove sweet ass Choso Kamo, your best friend, and he looks at you, shocked.

“So you can be with Amber. Funny, I couldn’t in years do shit like she could for your band. Good pick.” Choso steps back up, his hands now on your waist, big strong hands that you wonder at, how much could he throw you around if he tried, if he’d have more chances.

Hands that simultaneously drive you with need and drive you to insanity, god you wish you never knew how good it was. “I want you.”

“What, now that you see me with someone? All week you haven’t said or done shit. I’m not a game.”

“I’m not playing a game.”

“You may not know it, but you are. And my mind is the fucking victim.” Choso slams his lips on yours now, not the sweet way he kisses, no it’s brutal, it’s so different, you cry out, clinging to him, before pulling back and gasping. “I said no more of this.”

“Say it, that you don’t want me to. That you don’t feel this.” You’re shaking now, as his hand comes over yours, your eyes shut with the overwhelming sensations he’s fucking you up with, the way his big hand entwines with yours, and now your lips are tingling from him.

“It hurts too much to see you with her.”

“What do you think it’s like for me?”

“It’ll ruin us if we do it again.” Choso rests his forehead on yours. “I wanted you to choose me, just once.”

“What!?” You step away then, finally able to breathe, rushing out. “You told me to go, I wrote you-”

“Just because I said to, doesn’t mean I meant it.” You watch the hurt and confusion, making you feel like shit. “I fucked up asking you to do this. Blame me, it wasn’t your desires or ideas. Please, have fun, and forget any of this.” You put a hand on his shoulder, hating when a tear falls.

But you can’t let him keep hurting you like this, building your hopes up just to shatter them the fuck down, even if he’s so sweet he doesn’t know, or doesn’t mean to do it. You have to pull back, even as he’s trying to pull you close, and you watch him bite his lower lip.

“Let’s both leave right now.” He says huskily, you shake your head.

“It’s a terrible idea. I’ll fall more.”

“Fall? You’re…”

“Forget it, please. I don’t want to lose you in my life, but if we go any further, I won’t be able to pull back.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” You inhale and exhale, before turning away and walking back into the theater, trying to forget the hurt look on his face.

It’s not much longer that you certainly forget that sad look on his face, when you’re walking out into the chilly night and Satoru throws an expensive jacket over your shoulders. When you see Choso in his car with his head tilted back, and you worry, is he devastated, have you made a terrible decision? What if he truly did feel things for you-

Then you see Amber pop her head up, giggling.

Oh.

Oh.

She kisses Choso, he is presumably kissing his fucking cum off her lips, you feel your heart beat erratically, walking past with Satoru then, of course you have the shit luck that they parked right across from you all. Satoru comes to open the door when Choso’s eyes lock on yours, and his panicked face says everything you needed to know.

He never loved you, he never even cared, if so how could he so casually profess one thing while doing the absolute opposite? He rushes out of the car, and Satoru’s pretty blue eyes narrow a bit when he’s standing right in front of you, and you look down to see his pants unbuttoned just a bit.

You told him just friends, it appears he’s taken it seriously.

Were you some stepping stone for Choso’s hoe era?

“Your button.” You say softly, he hastily buttons it, and Satoru snorts now.

“Nice man, car blow job?”

“Can you shut the fuck up.” You glare, and Satoru’s chuckling, completely unbothered, Choso’s hands are clenching into fists.

“Gonna be mean to him? For what?”

“He left you at prom-”

“We were seventeen. It’s in the damn past. Your girl is pouting by the way, pay her some attention.” You say now, slipping into the car.

“I need to explain things to you.” He murmurs, leaning close, and you just sigh, shaking your head. “It’s not what you think, and you said just friends.”

“Yep. Just friends. Bye now, Cho bear.” You shut your door, Satoru puts an arm around you as he revs up the car, and you lean in, kissing him deeply.

“Mmm, I like petty you.” He teases, you snort, burying your face in his neck. “Can I get a car blow job too?”

“Oh drive, Gojo, jesus.” He’s laughing, pulling you against him as you all leave the parking lot, you could swear you feel his eyes on you, but you really are past fucking caring.

Maybe dick is really what you need to get over him?

Choso’s POV (A few minutes earlier)

“No, you shouldn’t…” Choso’s struggling to pull Amber off him, her mouth is latched on his neck, hand stroking his cock, visions of you flitting in his mind, of you telling him you don’t even want to be intimate again. That you made a mistake of being with him.

It makes him feel horrible, did he take advantage of you in some way!? He’s so clueless of these things, he’d tried to text you over and over before he agreed to go to this movie, and then when he saw you with Satoru!? Fuck it hurt, but he’s pushed you there, you were upset and he shouldn’t have left.

You say one thing and mean another, how can he read you, how can he understand you? How can he just go back to friendship, fuck you all were so dumb for this, completely underestimating what would be there. He kissed Amber once, and it was nothing like kissing you, her body against his and lips now are just no comparison, when he had your sweet lips.

Your moans.

Your breaths.

The way you…

Fuck now he’s thinking of your body, gorgeous, your smooth skin, every curve and line he wants to devour, all while Amber is stroking his cock. He knows you’re probably going to be with Gojo, have you already done things? He sees visions of Gojo fucking you, on your hands and knees maybe, your ass arched in the air, with his experience is he so much better?

Will you cum for him like you do Choso, will he get to drink up those juices from your perfect plump little pussy? Will he have you fingers gripping his hair, those blunt nails pressing against his scalp, your slick heat enwrapping him? Amber giggles since now Choso is completely hard, even though he’s upset, the thought of you like that makes him go insane with need.

To claim you, to make you his. But you want nothing to do with him, he’s fucked it all up somehow, and he truly doesn’t know how to make it right, how to say the words out loud that are eating him alive. How to say how much he’s falling for you, how amazing you are, how he dreams of you…

“Lemme take care of you, Choso.” Amber cooes, and Choso feels terrible, guilty as fuck, but why? You two aren’t together, now he doesn’t even get to kiss your perfect lips again. You don’t want to anymore, because of him.

You weren’t together, just friends you both said.

But you’re not just his friend.

Before he knows it, so lost in thought, Amber is undoing his pants, he pulls her hair now, earning her moan. “No, no! No, shit… sorry for pulling your hair, but… y-you can’t. Shouldn’t- mmm!”

Choso whines out and gasps when she takes his length in her mouth, swirling her tongue and humming. “Mmm, you’re fucking huge.”

“Please don’t do that, get up-ah.” She sucks so hard, he bucks up, his hand accidentally shoving her further by some stupid instinct, she’s bobbing up and down him, clearly an insane level of experience. Sucking him up like a vacuum, swallowing his cock whole down her throat, her long nails digging into his jeans, pressing against his thighs.

He leans his head back, he’s been as edged as you this week, and it does feel good, if you ignore the sinking in his stomach, when his eyes come to focus, and you’re by the car right across from him, Gojo’s jacket on your shoulder. You look right at him for a moment, and he panics, as Amber giggles, leaning up now.

“You’re the biggest guy I’ve sucked, fuck you’ll feel good in me.” Choso immediately zips up his pants, running out of the car, and when he sees you, he knows then.

Shoulders slumped down.

Eyes glossy and glittering.

Lips set in such a tense line.

He knows it, then, you won’t forgive this, in his desperation to explain, you have no care to hear, you’re so withdrawn he doesn’t even know if you’ll be his friend, and how could he blame you? Begging you to be with him, only for you to see something like that, and now you’re kissing Satoru right in front of him, knocking the wind out of his body.

He almost collapses as you drive away, numb and mindlessly going through the motions, you must think he is a liar, you must think you were right, he’d hurt you, truly hurt you. You’ve been his rock for so long, so important to him, so important to even his little brother, like family for so long, now he’s going to lose you, and now he know everything he’s losing.

Choso: Please, please it’s not what you think. Angel…

Read.

Choso: I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, it wasn’t what you think, and… I think of you. I think of you constantly, always.

Nothing.

Choso: Cuss me out, do something, say something. Please, I understand if you hate me forever, but this wasn’t intentional, and I’m confused, I don’t know what we are, I don’t know what to do.

Read, and nothing.

You read each single one and say nothing in response, Choso drops Amber off with a faint good bye, he doesn’t kiss her, he barely talks to her, she’s babbling away but his heart is being ripped from his chest. If you hadn’t already done things with Gojo, surely you would now, and what if he is so much better than Choso could be?

Rich, always so fucking popular, the head of the football team, good with ladies, fuck you fawned over him, when he had it so bad for you. You would doodle Satoru Gojo and you in wedding clothes as he’d sit at study sessions, and the fear of him pushed Choso even further to lose his mind and thoughts with Amber, but now even he doesn’t know if he can forgive himself.

Not for hurting you like this.

Choso: Please, I’ll do anything, just talk to me. Just… still be my best friend, even if I want you as so much more, I’ll take it, I’ll take just that again over none of you… please.

You don’t read it, your green dot is off line, seven minutes ago.

Choso sobs into his hands, sitting on his couch, thinking of the hurt on your pretty face when you saw it, fuck did you feel unwanted? When all he wants is you, but how could you know now? How could you know that he does, when you saw that.

Did you really feel like this ‘distraction’ or a game to him? You’re more than that, so much more. As he curls into a ball and sobs, he hates himself then, why can’t he know better, do better, why can’t he just know what’s right? You should hate him after this.

He’s losing you, and he never even really had you, not in the way he wants, he craves, he needs in his soul. After a long time, he falls asleep with streaks of tears drying on his cheeks, eyes heavy and reddened and sore. He is dreaming of you, snuggling next to him, heat on his leg, your smile so sleepy and cute. Your hair is a mess, and you’re in his tee shirt.

How can he lose you like this?

Your POV

“F-Fuck, Satoru!” You’re crying out as he’s pumping two stupidly long fingers deep in your pussy, and Satour’s moaning into your mouth, you’re literally on your front porch in the middle of the evening as he’s pressing you against your door, scissoring his fingers in and out. You’re clinging to him, he’s doing it so well your mind is shut, your eyes rolled back.

“Hear her, fuck… slutty pussy.” He huffs, grabbing you rough, he’s not delicate or careful like Cho, his grip on your thigh is bruising, your hands glide down his abdomen then, finding his cock over his pants, your phone is incessantly buzzing in your purse, you know it’s Choso, but you don’t really care right now.

“Please…” You whisper out.

“Please what, pretty little slut?” He murmurs, you should be offended but you’re not, you want more of it, to feel mindless, numb, good.

“Make me cum.” You’re hastily unlocking your door now, Satoru’s hands both press against your waist as you shut the door, and he has you picked up, effortlessly, your legs wrap around his hips as you all kiss, over and over.

“Bed?” He asks, you nod barely, pointing and he’s carrying you right to it, laying you down, somewhere Choso really has never been.

Fuck can’t you get him out of your head!?

You reach down between you both, stroking Satoru’s length, he’s long and curved, your thumb brushes on precum, earning his pink lips parted, a red flush on his porcelain skin. “I was missing all this?” He asks softly now, shoving up your shirt and revealing your tits that squish in his grip.

“Y-you were a dick.” You mumble, he chuckles, sucking on your nipple now, sliding panties down your thighs and rolling on your clit with his thumb until you’re dripping down his fingers.

“I still am a dick, baby, you’re just horny and mad.” He taunts, he’s somehow infuriatingly perceptive for an idiot.

“Just shut up, Satoru you talk too- ah!” Satoru’s got you flipped now, fucking obscene, dragging your pussy on his face, still in his fancy ass dress shirt, you’re still in a skirt and a top yanked down, his cock sprung in your face. “I haven’t…”

“No sixty nine?” He smacks your ass, and you tremble, bracing yourself on your arms as he drags his tongue between your folds. “Such a goodie goodie.”

“Fuck you, Satoru.” He laughs, breath tickling, so you suck him down your throat, he tastes good, his tongue is godly, but you just don’t feel that thing. You don’t feel whatever the fuck it was, and this proves it.

You shove it back as he shoves his cock in your mouth, swirling his tongue around your clit and then shoving his two fingers in your cunt again, playing with you over and over, pumping in and out, you’re clenching them like a vise as he sucks your little clit in his mouth. You grind on him weakly, crying out around his length, hair falling against his thighs.

He has his pants and boxers still half way on, your hands cling to them as he’s relentless with his tongue, sucking all of your juices up as his fingers fuck your gummy little walls. He’s hitting every spot you have, grinning against you whenl you’re cumming on Satoru Gojo’s face.

He’s moaning as he smacks your ass, still fingering you. “There, fuck… if you keep… I’m…” Satoru cums then with a groan, pulsing deep in your throat, you swallow the salty and slightly bitter taste down, his hum on your clit making you cum as you do, shaking when you cum again and finally pull up, shutting your eyes.

What have you done? Just what Amber was doing to Choso, and out of what, jealousy, need? Are you any better?

Satoru exhales, tapping your hip, and you ease off him, nervously looking away. “I’m sorry I came quick, your throat…”

“No, no! It’s good. I came clearly.” He exhales, planting a kiss on your lips, his glittery eyes dilated. “That was…”

“Fucking awesome, sweets. If you give me a bit, we can actually fuck.” He teases, dragging you on his lap now, you giggle then, breathless.

“Not just yet, this was a lot more than I expected already. We don’t even date or whatever.”

“You worry too much. If it feels good just do it.” You contemplate his words, more seriously than he intended. “All right, I’m out then sweets.”

“No pussy you’re out?” You raise a brow, he grins.

“I have your pussy all over my face, so shut it.” He smacks your ass once more, hopping up and getting dressed, you start to realize what happened, it’s slowly sinking in more and more, when you walk him to the door and he winks.

“Try not to look so pleased, Satoru.” You say, he grins bigger, snatching up his coat and throwing it on his shoulders.

“Got you off enough, I should be pleased. Don’t ignore me for a week again, it makes me sad you know.” He pouts, you can’t help but sigh, he’s gorgeous, he’s talented and fuck that was good.

But…

It feels so impersonal?

“Am I like a booty call now?” You ask, trying to hide your anxiousness with him, he shrugs a shoulder.

“I don’t take them on dates, I have standards. But I don’t label, so chill.” He pats your head now, winking. “I’m like your revenge fuck.”

“Oh god.” You roll your eyes.

“Nighty night. Text me.”

“Good night Satoru.” Satoru literally hops and prances to the damn car, but you feel it, the emotions choking you already, where Choso had snuggled and kissed, or he had tried to- you’d stopped it- Satoru’s prancing to his door and zipping away, clearly he got some of what he wanted from you.

Is this who you are now?

You take a shower, resting your head on the wall, shutting your eyes as you see it, over and over, Choso and Amber in that car. But you told him you were done, you told him there was no sex anymore, so what was wrong with what either of you did? What was this feeling like hot fire pokers in your throat, this clutching and pulling at your heart?

Tearing you in two.

If you were just horny and edged, Satoru should have scratched every fucking itch you ever had, he’s perhaps more skilled than Choso at a woman’s body, you’re sure fucking him would be fun, and there’s just no feelings. He would have been a perfect friend with benefit, not Choso Kamo, the man that you look into his eyes and he sees you, truly sees you.

The man you want in bed with you, every night, you remember all those nights sleeping next to him on the couch, hearing his gentle breathing or little snores. And now you think you can’t even be his friend, it hurts too much, and you think it’s pushed you here to do this, something you would never, but the rejection from Ino stung and now Choso?

Drying up you see the twenty messages from him, each one hurting more and more as you read through them all, especially the last one, which is like a knife to your fucking heart.

Cho Bear: Please, I’ll do anything, just talk to me. Just… still be my best friend, even if I want you to be so much more, I’ll take it, I’ll take just that again over none of you… please.

That was an hour ago.

You can’t talk to him now, you can’t look at him now, after what you just did, the tears start falling from your face, it felt so empty and hollow, pure pleasure without those feelings. Without feeling like the most beautiful, important girl in the fucking world, without Choso’s sweet and sincere words. The way he’d held your face and just looked at you.

It was never just getting off with Choso, the moment he kissed you, you irrevocably fell for him, and now you feel nothing but despair.

How does doing something not ‘wrong’ feel this wrong.

You put the phone down, you can’t face him, you can’t call him, you’re still so upset with him and now with yourself. You find yourself curled in a ball on your bed, a bed Satoru Gojo had just been in, fuck it happened so fast too, and now you know it even more so.

You’re in love with Choso.

What have you done?

What has he done?What have you both done?

A/N- Yep. It's a mess, I am sure ya'll are as upset and mad as I am writing these two fking idiots, but it's a slow burn despite their immediate physical connection. I always enjoy your thoughts, how was this angst omg! This actually made me upset but remember I write happy endings <3

Taglist: @erencvlt @antisocialinlw @aquamarine001 @maskedpacific @mima0127 @yxnnu @lana18918 @bigbird789  @angellliqua @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @aldebrana @staygoldsquatchling02 @bts-psycho @lillycore @mysticalnightbeliever @wystriz @tokyolhtl @imabyssa @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @ivyvenus333 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @sparklydeerface @10honeybee01 @marie-is-in-the-dark @lavender-hvze @angelcakkess @bellasworlds-stuff @pauliiis-stuff @mysouleaten @city-of-lovers @teddiiursula @flowerbbybananamilk

(tagging the rest in commentsss)

Chap Five

[chuulyssa]

​🇭​​ 🇴 ​​🇲 ​​🇪​​ 🇼​​ 🇴 ​​🇷 ​​🇰​ .

ʟɪɢʜᴛ ʏᴀɢᴀᴍɪ !

↷ A/N ─ the long-awaited full ver of this drabble is here! will proofread this tomorrow oml it's 3am here again

★ COUNT ─ 1.3k

!! TAGS ─ light x reader, pre-kira!light, gn!reader, oral (m receiving), deep throating, slight (?) exhibitionism

★ PROLOGUE ─ giving your boyfriend head under the desk while he studies

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

The two of you were walking back home after school, neither of you speaking a word as you went on in silence. It was like a silent agreement that you would go to his house today instead of yours. After all, pissed as you were, academic stress did not help in uplifting your mood. Luckily, you knew just the way to relieve your worries while also getting your assignments done - and so did Light.

"Hello, dear," his mother greeted you warmly. "I assume he's tutoring you again? I sure hope he isn't too harsh on you."

"It's alright, Mrs Yagami," you smiled back at her, inwardly elated at the fact that some day the title you called her would belong to you.

"I don't understand, dear," she continued, "why do you need tutions from him in the first place? I mean, you do quite well as it is."

"I don't mind it," Light interrupted her before going up to his room.

You took off your shoes and shot her another kind smile before following your boyfriend. Behind you, you could hear Mrs Yagami mumble, "Kids these days."

The door shut behind you. Light immediately kept his bag in a corner and sat down on his chair. You looked at him with a bored expression.

"Already? You're not taking the 'tutoring' part seriously, now, are you?"

"Well, I have to," he said, taking out his Maths notebook and pen. "Your mother-in-law has entrusted me with this task."

You rolled your eyes.

"I don't study."

"I do," he shrugged. "And so, you must too."

"Nah," you flopped on his bed in a starfish position. "I'm going to catch some sleep."

"No, you aren't," Light said firmly and got up to hold you by your arms. He dragged you towards the table, pulling out a chair for you to sit near the desk so that you could keep up with his lessons.

"I'm not studying with you," you scoffed.

Light stared at you for some time before muttering, "Fine. You know what? Fine. Go to hell."

You chuckled and he shot you a petty glare. Opening his notebook, he started solving questions rapidly, not sparing you even a single glance and pretending as if you were as good as part of the wall.

You sat there doodling on a spare book you found. Your chin was on the table, and you were rethinking your decision to come to his house. With a sigh, you realized that you'd have been sleeping soundly in your cozy bed right now had you gone to your own house.

After a few minutes, you saw Light's pen slow down a little and an irritable look on his face.

"Y/N, look, if you can't make yourself useful, then you might as well go home. Seriously."

"What?"

"I said go home."

You blinked in confusion. Useful? Like how? You looked out of the window thinking of excuses to stay in his room. It may not have occurred to you then, but you really did want to stay in his company after all.

And then you got a brilliant idea. Of course! It'd help both you and him destress, and probably leave him flustered enough to do your homework as well. You could-

"Give you a blowjob," you repeated your suggestion to him while he looked at you with wide eyes.

"...Y/N-"

But you cut him off by pushing the chair you were sitting on away and dropping to your knees. He looked at you with a bewildered expression as you fumbled with his belt, desperate to free his obviously strained erection.

"Really, now?" you said in a mocking tone. "Already? I didn't even do anything yet!"

"Well, if you're gonna sit there looking like that, this is bound to happen."

"You could've been subtle about it though," you pushed the chair away to get a clear view and comfortable access to his cock.

"Wait, you're serious about this?"

"Um, yeah?"

"But what if someone heard us?" He protested. "My parents are down there. Heck, Sayu is down there! This is not a sound proof room, we're gonna get c- ah!"

You cut him off with a little lick to the top of his cock. With your right hand you gripped his base and lowered yourself to him.

"Say it again," you said with an amused smile on your face, lips pressed against his dick. "Let me hear your pretty voice."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he slowly reached out to dig his fingers inside your hair giving you the consent you were looking for.

"Thats a good boy," you whispered, making him shiver as your warm breath breezed his cock.

Your grip on his dick tightened ever so slightly as you got ready to suck him. His fingers were tangled in your hair while his other hand tried it's best to solve the math equations for his assignments.

You licked the tip again. Light's hips jerked upwards but you pushed him down with all your might.

"Stop teasing," he breathed, looking away as if to hide his fluster.

You rolled your eyes before finally taking him, inch by inch, inside your mouth. You felt your lips stretching to accommodate his thick dick. It was an uncomfortable experience, but the little grunts that escaped your boyfriend made it worth the pain.

As your lips hit his base, you felt your saliva drooling over his cock, and immediately lifted your head back up, just to take him entirely again.

Light groaned. You tried to smile, but your work was more important. You bobbed your head up and down his dick, occasionally tracing his balls with the tips of your fingers.

"Oh god, no, what if someone sees us," Light said between moans of pleasure. "But, baby, please don't stop now."

You lifted your head completely to look him in the eye. He whined at the lost contact, and tried to push you back.

"Did you lock the door?" You said with an annoyed huff.

"Fuck, no, let me-"

You gave his dick a few pumps to stop him.

"Too late now. I guess everyone's watching Light Yagami groan and come all over his study table."

Light widened his eyes, which was a struggle considering your soft hands manipulating his movements.

You laughed at his pathetic state before taking him in again. You bobbed your head up and down, tapping his inner thigh in a rhythm.

Under your touch, meanwhile, Light was a whimpering, moaning mess. One hand was still in your hair while the other hand completely abandoned his futile efforts of doing his assignment and now lay scratching his table.

"Oh, oh god, oh fuck, yout ake me in so well," he threw his head back with pleasure. "More, more. God, i think I'm coming already."

At this, you gave him a smug look and pushed your head down on his cock until it hit your throat. Your eyes watered, but you didn't let it ruin the moment. Light almost let out a loud cry, both his hands attempting to muffle his voice as if on cue.

You choked and gagged, while he groaned and kicked his legs in the air.

"Fuck, fuck, shit, shit, I'm coming."

Your nails dug into his thighs to form crescent moons as he emptied his cum into your throat, careful not to let any of it spill on the ground or on the chair - anywhere his mom or sister could examine and catch him red handed. After making sure to take all of it in, you finally lifted your head up, licking his entire dick in one, long stroke before licking your lips and winking at him.

Light groaned at the smirk on your face.

"You're such a bad influence. Bad influence on the perfect Light Yagami."

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

tagging: @zharickmedrano

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© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[riddlemearose]

Late to the party, but I have some thoughts on the latest Linked Universe update.

Wars spends the whole update essentially studying Wild in an attempt to sum him up and work him out.

–> He stays back so he can analyse Wild's fighting style. Him comparing it to Twi's is interesting for a variety of reasons, none of which I have the energy to list so I digress. –> Wars also pretends to forget Wild's background as a knight, either as a way to compliment Wild or draw a connection between them.

Also credit where credit is due for Wild acknowledging a knight is only as competent as their weapon is good.

Without a weapon or access to their items, the majority of the Chain is dead in the water.

Very little talking or casual interaction. Unlike Hyrule & Legend; Time, Four & Wind; or Twilight and Sky, Wild and Wars are very specifically positioned as far away from each other as they can feasibly be, as seen below.

Wars may be trying to bridge the gap between them with his words, but neither he nor Wild are particularly comfortable here.

Wars is relying on Wild’s experience, allowing him to take the lead as a sign of trust, so he's legitimately surprised to learn the difference between Shrines and Dungeons

Most of Wars�� dialogue for the whole update, but also notably when Wild is explaining the role of the shrines, is vague and open. This can run the risk of coming off either passive aggressively or uninterested in Wild’s mind, given the perception he currently has of their situation. This is not a criticism of Wars, bc it shows that Wars isn’t as confident in this as he’s pretending to be.

More on the arm joke in a moment, but Wars straight up doesn’t know how to respond to humour being used as a coping/deflection mechanism, which is 100% Wild’s go-to response. -> Wars is probably still working on determining exactly why Wild is deflecting, while Wild is trying to work out what the point of all Wars’ questions is.

Note that Wars isn’t offering any information back (nor is Wild asking for it) –> this is very one-sided, so it’ll be interesting to see how quickly Wars will notice (bc Wild definitely doesn’t want to initiate any conversations, given he thinks Wars is angry with him and won’t realise for a while that this is Wars attempting to work out where they stand)

Okay, the Arm Joke gets its own section, bc I think it's a very interesting part of the comic.

Wild joking about "hopefully still having his arm", while yes being a TOTK reference, also gives Wars some unfortunate insight into Wild's era. It'll be telling if Wars takes that as a reflection of Wild's impulsivity over the dangers of his era though. That runs the risk of making or breaking their interactions right now.

Additionally, Wars also accidentally misunderstood a fundamental aspect of Wild's era in his reaction to Wild's joke.

In basically every other era but Hyrule's, life planning is common bc their eras are "safer". So Wars' "where do you see yourself in 5 years" question would not be abnormal to 6 other Links. But to Wild, (and to Hyrule, even tho he's not here for this) thinking 5 years ahead is incomprehensible, because of how difficult life is. Life is still day to day to both of them. There's no reason to think 5 years ahead when you're still trying to manage potential foot shortages and monster incursions.

So Wild's making light of how dangerous his era is, bc that's the norm - to never assume your life will be a long one, but to have at least had a good life while you've got it - which Wars unfortunately but understandably gets mildly irked at, bc to him it's a simple question of "what job do you want to be doing and how are you going to get there".

I don't think Wars cares whether Wild does or doesn't want to be a knight. I actually think he would mind what answer Wild gave, so long as he got an inclination of what Wild's ambition is. He wants to know what Wild wants to do with his life, but that's a tricky thing to think about, given the world Wild comes from and Wild's own identity issues.

But that kind of question – given the state of tension between them and Wild assuming that Wars is just angry with him, not trying to get to know him better – runs the risk of making Wild close off more bc he may perceive that he's being judged for not giving the 'right' answer.

Art by @/linkeduniverse.

[novaursa]

Twin Fires

- Summary: Both you and Aegon have no problem expressing your desires openly and torment everybody in the Red Keep.

- Pairing: reader (twin!wife)/Aegon II

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N. For full chronological order of these works visit my blog. The list is pinned on the top. Or, you can read it as a one-shot.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 2 665

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

You sit on the chair beside Aegon, your hand resting lightly on his arm. The room is filled with the dull murmur of the small council meeting, the voices of the Lords Tyland, Larys, Jasper, Otto, and Grand Maester Orwyle blending into an almost rhythmic drone. You can see Aegon's eyes glazing over as his mind drifts away from the discussions of grain supplies and tax levies. You know exactly where his thoughts have gone.

Aegon shifts in his seat, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest. He can't stop thinking about the night before, the way your skin felt against his, the warmth of your breath on his neck. The council's voices fade into the background as he remembers the way you gasped his name, the look in your eyes as he pulled you closer. His lips twitch into a small, satisfied smile.

"Your Grace," Otto's sharp voice cuts through Aegon's reverie. "Would you care to join us in the present? We were discussing the matter of the Dornish threat on our southern border."

Aegon blinks, attempting to pull himself back to the present. "Yes, yes, of course," he says, though he has no idea what Otto was talking about. His mind is still on you, on the way your hair spread out across the pillows, the way you whispered his name.

Otto's eyes narrow. "It seems your thoughts are elsewhere, Your Grace. Perhaps you would care to enlighten us on what is so captivating."

Aegon feels the eyes of the council on him, but he can't help the smirk that forms on his lips. "Just thinking about my Queen," he says, his voice low and suggestive. "Last night was... eventful."

You feel your cheeks heat at the memory and the implication of his words. The council members shift uncomfortably in their seats, while Otto's face turns a deep shade of red.

"Your Grace," Otto says through gritted teeth, "perhaps now is not the time for such... reflections."

Aegon laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Oh, come now, Otto. Surely even you can appreciate the joys of marriage."

Tyland coughs, trying to hide a smile behind his hand, while Larys's eyes gleam with amusement. Jasper seems to be studying a particularly interesting spot on the table, avoiding looking at anyone.

The Grand Maester clears his throat. "Perhaps we should return to the matter at hand," he suggests diplomatically.

"Yes, let's," Otto agrees, his voice tight. "As I was saying, the Dornish—"

Aegon's thoughts drift away again, this time to the look on Otto's face when he walked in on the two of you in the gardens. Aegon had you pressed up against the stone wall, your skirts hitched up around your waist. Otto had stammered and turned bright red, backing away as quickly as he could.

"Y/N," Aegon says, turning to you with a wicked grin, "do you remember when Grandsire walked in on us?"

You can’t help but laugh softly, nodding. "Yes, I do. He looked like he was about to faint."

Otto's knuckles are white as he grips the edge of the table. "Your Grace, please," he grinds out. "This is neither the time nor the place."

"Lighten up, Otto," Aegon says, waving a hand dismissively. "A little levity never hurt anyone."

The tension in the room breaks slightly as the other council members chuckle. Otto, however, looks like he's about to explode.

"Perhaps we should adjourn for today," Aegon suggests, rising to his feet. "I believe we've accomplished quite enough."

Otto opens his mouth to protest, but Aegon is already moving, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet. "Come, Y/N," he says, his voice low and intimate. "Let's continue this discussion elsewhere."

As you leave the room, you can feel the council's eyes on your back, but you don't care. All that matters is the warmth of Aegon's hand in yours, and the promise of what the rest of the day holds.

Aegon leads you through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, his grip on your hand firm and possessive. The flickering torches cast long shadows on the stone walls, creating an intimate atmosphere that sets your heart racing. The echoes of the small council meeting fade away, replaced by the anticipation of what is to come.

Instead of heading to your private chambers, Aegon pulls you toward the grand library, a place of quiet refuge and intellectual pursuit. The scent of old parchment and leather-bound tomes fills the air as you enter, the dim lighting from the candles casting a warm glow on the rows upon rows of books.

"I've been thinking about you all morning," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can't wait to continue where we left off last night."

You shiver at his words, your own desire mirrored in his eyes. He leads you to a secluded corner, hidden from view by towering bookshelves. Aegon presses you against the polished wood, his hands eager as they roam your body. The library's quiet solitude only adds to the excitement, the risk of being discovered making your heart race.

But just as Aegon is about to pull you into a passionate kiss, a soft cough from behind a nearby shelf makes you both freeze. Aegon straightens, his head snapping towards the sound. Emerging from the shadows, a book in hand and expression stern, is Aemond.

"Aemond," Aegon says, a smirk playing on his lips. "I didn't expect you to be lurking in the library."

"I can see that," Aemond replies dryly, stepping into the candlelight. "Must you always be so public about your... activities, brother?"

Aegon laughs, the sound deep and unabashed. "Why not? What's the point of being king if you can't enjoy yourself?"

Aemond rolls his eye, clearly unimpressed. "There are other ways to enjoy oneself that don't involve making a spectacle."

Aegon pulls you closer, his hand slipping around your waist. "But where's the fun in that, brother? Life is too short to be so serious all the time."

You can feel the tension in the library, but there's also a hint of amusement in Aemond's gaze. He shakes his head, exasperated but not entirely unamused. "You are impossible, Aegon."

"That's why you love me," Aegon replies, grinning. "Now, if you don't mind, we were in the middle of something."

Aemond raises an eyebrow. "Clearly. But perhaps you could exercise a bit more discretion. The walls have ears, and not all of them are friendly."

Aegon waves a hand dismissively. "Let them listen. Maybe they'll learn something."

You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you. Aegon turns his attention back to you, his eyes dark with intent. "Shall we continue, my love?"

Aemond sighs, shaking his head again. "Very well. I'll leave you to it. But please, try to keep it down this time."

As Aemond turns to leave, Aegon can't resist one last jibe. "Don't be jealous, Aemond. You'll find your own fun one day."

Aemond pauses at the doorway, glancing back with a faint smile. "One can only hope."

The door closes behind him, and you and Aegon are alone once more. Aegon pulls you into a deep kiss, his hands eager and insistent. The interruption seems only to have fueled his desire, his need for you more urgent than ever.

"Now, where were we?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice a seductive whisper.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Right here," you reply, pulling him closer.

As the passion between you reignites, the lingering humor of Aemond's intrusion adds a layer of excitement to the encounter. The grand library might have its hidden eyes and ears, but in this moment, all that matters is the fire burning between you and your king.

Your bodies are entwined, the weight of Aegon's heated skin pressing down on yours as you both clutch desperately at each other in the dimly lit library. The scent of parchment and aged leather fills the air, mixing with the intoxicating musk of your fervent lovemaking. Aegon's platinum blond hair falls over his eyes, glistening with sweat, as he murmurs your name — Y/N — with breathless urgency.

"More, Aegon," you gasp, fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer. His lips are on your neck, your shoulders, everywhere at once, as if he can never get enough of you.

"You always want more," he grins against your skin, his voice a low growl of pleasure and amusement. "And I always want to give it to you."

You arch against him, your breath catching as he moves within you, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. Your world narrows to the sensation of his body, the heat of his touch, the sound of his ragged breathing mingling with your own.

Just as the world is about to shatter into a million pieces of ecstasy, the library door slams open with a thunderous crash. "Aegon! Y/N!" Dowager Queen Alicent's voice rings out, sharp and furious.

Aegon jolts, startled, and the sudden motion pushes him deeper into you, causing you both to cry out in unexpected bliss. The impact sends you both stumbling backward into a massive bookshelf. There's a moment of stunned silence before the entire row of shelves begins to topple like dominos, books cascading to the floor in a chaotic storm of paper and bindings.

As the dust settles, you find yourself pinned beneath Aegon, both of you as naked as the day you were born. His violet eyes are wide with a mix of shock and lingering desire, but there's a hint of laughter in them too. You can't help but chuckle softly, the absurdity of the situation taking hold again.

Alicent stands there, her face a mask of fury, flanked by a pale and trembling Grand Maester Orwyle, who looks like he's about to collapse. His precious tomes from the Citadel lie scattered and crushed around you.

"Mother," Aegon starts, still half-laughing, "I didn't hear you knock."

"Knock?" Alicent's voice rises in pitch, her hands clenching at her sides. "You have no sense of shame or propriety! Look at you both!"

You glance at Aegon, then back at your mother, feeling no shame whatsoever. "We were...occupied," you say with a coy smile.

Aegon shifts slightly, still positioned rather intimately, and you can't help but stifle a giggle. "We were, indeed," he agrees, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Alicent throws her hands up in exasperation. "Occupied! In the library! Grand Maester Orwyle has important matters to discuss, and you are here...doing this!"

Orwyle makes a strangled noise, his eyes darting to the ruined books. "My...my tomes..."

Aegon looks around, still atop you, and shrugs. "They can be replaced, Orwyle. Unlike my dear sister-wife, who I cannot get enough of."

You can't help but laugh, reaching up to pull him down for a quick kiss. "Flatterer," you murmur against his lips.

Alicent's face turns an even deeper shade of red. "Enough! Both of you! Get up and get dressed this instant!"

With exaggerated slowness, Aegon finally rolls off you, standing and offering you a hand up. You take it, rising gracefully despite the chaos around you. Neither of you bothers to cover yourselves, reveling in your mother's discomfort.

As you both dress leisurely, Alicent mutters angrily under her breath, and Orwyle looks like he's aged a decade in mere minutes. The library is a mess, but to you and Aegon, it's just another amusing chapter in your reign as King and Queen.

Once clothed, Aegon winks at you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Shall we continue this...discussion later once more, my love?"

You return his smile, feeling the heat already rising again between you. "Oh, absolutely, Your Grace. I can't wait."

Alicent groans, turning away with a huff. "Seven save me," she mutters, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. Despite her anger, even she can't deny the unbreakable bond you share with Aegon.

You and Aegon stride through the open doors of the library, a sea of wide-eyed servants parting before you. Whispers and shocked glances follow your every step, but you and Aegon remain completely unaffected, wearing expressions of amused indifference. The thrill of your recent encounter still lingers, and you can feel Aegon's hand subtly brushing against yours, a promise of more to come.

"Well," Aegon muses loudly, his voice echoing down the hallway. "Since the library is no longer an option, how about the throne room next?"

You hear a gasp from a cluster of maids, their faces a mix of scandal and fascination. Just as you are about to reply with a cheeky retort, Alicent's voice rings out from the library, where she is still consulting with Orwyle. "Aegon! Y/N! I swear by the Seven, if you even think about it, you'll both be confined to your chambers for a month!"

Aegon grins, leaning close to whisper in your ear. "I think she's bluffing. The throne room would be quite the statement, don't you think?"

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Perhaps another time, Aegon. We should at least pretend to heed her warnings once in a while."

He sighs dramatically but nods, his arm slipping around your waist as you continue down the hall. "Very well, my Queen. For now."

The next morning, the sun filters through the windows of the council chamber, casting a warm glow over the ancient stone walls. Alicent paces back and forth, her brow furrowed in frustration. Across from her, Otto Hightower sits at a polished wooden table, his expression calm but concerned.

"Alicent," he begins, his tone measured, "we need to address the behavior of the twins. This...scandalous display cannot continue. It undermines their authority and brings dishonor to the throne."

Alicent stops pacing, turning to face her father. "Believe me, Father, I am well aware. Yesterday's debacle in the library was just the latest in a long line of their...indiscretions."

Otto sighs, folding his hands on the table. "We must find a way to curb their impulses. Aegon and Y/N's bond is undeniably strong, but it is also causing disruptions. The court is buzzing with rumors, and the smallfolk are beginning to talk."

Alicent nods, her frustration evident. "I've tried talking to them, scolding them, threatening them with confinement, but nothing seems to work. They simply don't care."

Otto leans back in his chair, considering. "Perhaps we need a different approach. Something more...persuasive. Have you considered involving the High Septon? His influence could carry weight, even with those as headstrong as Aegon and Y/N."

Alicent's eyes widen slightly at the suggestion. "The High Septon? Are we really at that point, Father?"

Otto nods solemnly. "If we are to maintain order and respect, we must consider all options. Aegon is King, and Y/N is Queen, but they must learn that their actions have consequences beyond their own pleasure."

Alicent sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Very well. I will arrange a meeting with the High Septon. Perhaps he can impress upon them the seriousness of their duties."

Otto reaches out to place a reassuring hand on her arm. "It is for the best, Alicent. For the realm, and for them. They must learn to balance their love with their responsibilities."

As Alicent nods, determined but weary, you and Aegon lounge in your chambers, blissfully unaware of the conversation taking place. Wrapped in each other's arms, you share a lazy, contented morning, your laughter and whispered promises a stark contrast to the serious discussions unfolding elsewhere in the Red Keep.

Aegon presses a kiss to your temple, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. "What do you think Mother and Grandsire are plotting now?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "No doubt some scheme to rein us in. But we have each other, Aegon. Whatever they plan, we'll face it."

He smiles, a slow, lazy grin that makes your heart flutter. "Always, my love. Always."

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 ♡

akaashi keiji x f!reader

you and your boyfriend are no strangers to overthinking — so when your period doesn't arrive on time, you take turns calming each other down.

"I'm late." Akaashi lifted his head from the manuscript he was editing, his glasses strewn haphazardly across his face. You were standing in the threshold of your shared study, having just returned from your second anxiety-induced bathroom break of the night.

Your boyfriend of five years turned in his creaky swivel chair to face the calendar tacked on the leftmost wall of the room, littered in neon post-it notes and defaced by both of your penmanships — Akaashi's short and slanted, yours perfectly proportioned.

Ever the editor, he said, "But I thought your draft wasn't due until next week." Being a romance author and dating a literary editor certainly had its perks, but in this moment, you couldn't decide whether to feel distressed or endeared by his misinterpretation. You took a deep breath and tried again.

"...not that kind of late."

It took him a second to understand. But when he finally did, the brain fog immediately cleared from his eyes.

"Oh — oh," he said, setting down his red pen and standing from his desk. "You're absolutely sure?"

You nodded. "Three days, to be exact."

Ever since you and Akaashi had started dating your senior year of college, you had been tracking your periods in hopes of preventing an unplanned pregnancy. You were both open to having kids — after all, you two were arguably the most responsible ones in your friend group, and baby fever passed between the two of you as easily as the common cold. But neither of you expected to have a child this early into your careers, and the mere idea was enough to make you feel queasy.

"Hey, hey," Akaashi interjected gently, reading the expression on your face like an open book. He walked around his cluttered desk and pulled you into his arms. "It's okay. I know we both have a tendency to overthink —"

"A great trait to pass onto a baby," you volleyed back.

"But if you really are pregnant, we would handle it," he continued, however amused by your quit wit. He tucked your head beneath his chin. "We'd ask all the right questions, read all the right parenting books. I'll hold your hand when your get your blood drawn, even though it makes me want to collapse."

Despite yourself, you chuckled at that.

"Besides," he added. "We practically raise Bokuto together already."

You were laughing even harder now, the waves of anxiety flooding your chest now subsiding, if only for a moment. Akaashi was the only one capable of doing that.

"Ugh," you cried, pulling away from him to massage your tired eyes. "How did this even happen?"

"I think you know perfectly well how this happened."

"Of course, I know," you drawled. "But we had a plan. A well-thought-out, career-oriented plan. You would go to grad school, I would publish a few more novels —"

"All of which we can still do if we become parents," Akaashi replied, taking both of your hands into his. "Y/N, I am well-aware of the fact that we both love planning our lives to a tee. In fact, your thoughtfulness and attention-to-detail are what I love most about you."

Your face flushed at his affectionate words.

"But maybe it would save us both the mental energy to let life surprise us every once in a while," he finished.

"With a baby?"

"With anything! Including the possibility of a baby." He pushed your hair of our of face and looked at you in sheer adoration. "I love you, Y/N. There is no other person I'd want to become a parent with. So while an unplanned pregnancy sounds daunting, I will be right there with you. We'd figure it out. Together."

Perhaps it was the steady confidence in his eyes — or the potential pregnancy hormones coursing through your bloodstream, but you started to cry. Taken aback, Akaashi immediately took you back into his arms.

"D-Did I say something wrong?" he stammered. You shook your head against his chest as you wept.

"No. No, you said everything right," you reassured him. "God, if this actually happens, Keiji, you're going to be an incredible parent."

Now it was his turn to get emotional.

You turned off the lamps at your respective desks and headed to the pharmacy two blocks away from your apartment, the sidewalks bustling with native bar-hoppers and starry-eyed tourists. You'd both walked this path several times before and had always returned with a bundle of items: Red Bull, microwave popcorn, the occasional pack of condoms. But never a pregnancy test. "Is there a specific brand that gives you the most accurate results?" Akaashi asked, immediately pulling out his phone to do some research in the middle of the family planning aisle. "It says here that digital pregnancy tests are generally considered more accurate, but you can get a pack of three analog tests for nearly half the price..."

He paced up-and-down the rows of tests, comparing and cross-referencing them like he did each of his authors' drafts.

"I mean, why don't we just buy them all? It can't hurt to cover all the bases," he murmured, grabbing one of each brand from the shelf and dumping them into your open arms.

"Keiji," you laughed, amused by how serious he was about all of this. "Don't you think we're being a little hasty?"

"You're right," your boyfriend said, shaking his head. "I haven't even checked the expiration dates on any of these — "

"No, that's not what I meant," you repeated firmly, meeting his frazzled gaze with your now-steady one. "I think we should buy only one pack. Your pick."

He looked at you as if you'd just suggested he dive off a steep cliff. "Are you sure?" "Yes," you promised him. "I don't even think I have enough pee for all the pregnancy tests I'm holding right now." His shoulders slumped from the steep drop in adrenaline, and he pressed his lips into a tight, nervous line before admitting, "I just want to make sure I'm doing everything right." "You already are," you reassured him, shifting all of the pregnancy tests over to one arm and reaching out to squeeze his shoulder with the other. "You don't need to overthink whether or not you're doing a great job, because you are. I wouldn't have let you possibly impregnate me if you weren't."

He released a shaky sigh, a sheepish smile on his face as he asked, "Can I still consult Google reviews?"

After finally selecting a pregnancy test and a pint of ice cream to share, you and Akaashi paid for your items and walked back to your apartment arm-in-arm.

"Do you remember the day we met?" he asked, the sounds of the city rumbling between you as you walked.

"Of course I remember. I wanted the last desk in the front row of our senior writing seminar, but someone got there before me," you said teasingly. "Though I think it was for the best. I developed a crush on the back of your head almost instantly."

"You did not."

"I'm not even kidding. I'm pretty sure I based all of my fictional love interests on you that year."

"That I picked up on."

"You did not."

He chuckled. "Don't get me wrong, I had to ask Bokuto to read your stories because I thought I was insanely self-absorbed for suspecting you'd base any character off of me. I'd never had anyone describe me so accurately. So...deeply," he confessed. "I was flattered. Truly."

You couldn't help the blush creeping up your neck. "I guess that's what I get, asking my crush to peer-review my work."

He bent down to press his lips to your temple. "I'm glad you did."

You climbed the stairs back to your apartment and unlocked the door, the small space crowded by stacks of books and half-empty mugs. You imagined what it would be like to rearrange the furniture to make room for a crib, what it would be like for you and Akaashi to read to your baby all the books you'd loved as children. The mere idea was enough to make your eyes well up again.

God, you thought to yourself, tearing open the box of pregnancy tests and inspecting the thick packet of instructions. Would you actually be disappointed if this test came back negative?

"I'll be right here if you need me," Akaashi said, gesturing to the couch. You nodded, walked into the bathroom, and closed the door.

After five minutes of working yourself up to peeing on the stick and another two of actually doing it, you ushered your boyfriend back into the bathroom. You'd placed the test face-down beside the sink, not wanting to know the results without him. Your heart hammered violently as you considered this piece of plastic's inane ability to tell your entire future in just a few measly lines.

"Hey," Akaashi reassured you for the millionth time that night, intertwining your hand in his. "No matter the outcome, I've got you."

"I know." You nodded. "I've got you, too."

His expression softened. "You ready?"

"Yeah," you said, and you meant it. After all, Akaashi Keiji had spent the past five years holding your heart with more patience and consideration you ever thought you deserved, and you had dedicated yourself fully to doing the same for him. You took care of each other amidst all anxieties. That alone was enough to assure you that, whatever the future held, you would be just fine.

Squeezing each other's hand one last time, you took a deep breath, reached for the pregnancy test, and turned it over. @miyasmagnolias, 2025

[cruel-seduction]

Please stay?

Summary - Y/N never expected to fall for Tom Riddle—let alone be dragged into his cold, calculating world. Their relationship is anything but conventional, full of manipulation, games, and secrets. But when Y/N begins to pull away, refusing to let herself become just another piece in Tom's twisted plan, the truth about their connection forces both of them to confront feelings neither of them ever expected. Can Tom learn to love in his own way, or will his obsession with control destroy everything?

Glimpse - His knees hit the ground, his gaze locked onto yours, something unspoken hanging between you both. His hands twitch at his sides, his breath slow but measured. And then—in his own way—he gives you what you asked for.

"I will never be the person you deserve," he murmurs, voice rough, edged with something unreadable. "But I will treat you as you deserve to be treated. I will try my best"

It’s not perfect. It’s not a romantic declaration. But it’s Tom. And for the first time, he is trying.

a/n - Hello, my certified cutie red flags!!! In the starting the reader will look like a pathetic person with no self respect but trust me it gets much better. AFTER ALL you know your worth. And I can’t write about a girl with no self respect. I am so sorry 😔😔😔. Divider Credit goes to @bernardsbendystraws.

The sky is heavy tonight. The kind of oppressive, ink-black stretch of nothingness that seems to press against the castle like a living thing. Even the stars refuse to shine, swallowed whole by the thick storm clouds slithering across the heavens. A biting chill cuts through the air, sharp and merciless, the lingering dampness from the afternoon rain clinging to the stone walls of Hogwarts like an unshakable ghost.

You pull your cloak tighter around you, fingers numb from the cold, but it’s not the weather that unsettles you. It’s him.

Tom Riddle walks beside you, his steps eerily soundless against the damp grass. His dark robes move like liquid shadow, effortlessly blending into the night, making it seem as if he’s not walking at all but simply materializing forward with each step. You used to take comfort in the way he carried himself—like a king, untouchable and certain of everything. But lately, certainty feels like something slipping between your fingers, something you can no longer grasp.

You steal a glance at him, watching the way the dim torchlight from the castle catches on his sharp features. There is something unnervingly perfect about him—his pale skin unmarked by time, his high cheekbones carved by something otherworldly, his expression unreadable as ever.

You wonder if he’s even real.

Because lately, it feels as though you are losing him.

He’s always been distant in a way no one else could be, keeping the world at arm’s length with cold, calculated detachment. But with you, it has been different. Not soft—Tom Riddle is not a man who indulges in softness—but something just as fragile. Something that could almost be mistaken for tenderness if you weren’t careful.

It was in the way he let you closer than anyone else, the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long when you spoke, the way his hand would ghost over your wrist as if grounding himself. It was in the way he would listen, truly listen, in a way he never did for anyone else.

But now? Now, his patience frays faster. His touch lingers less. Now, when you reach for him, you are met with nothing but air.

You don’t confront him. Not at first. Instead, you try harder.

You remind him of the quiet moments. You stay up late to help him study, even when he doesn’t ask. You sit beside him in the library, carefully passing him books before he even has to request them, anticipating his needs before he speaks.

You let your fingers brush against his when handing over a quill, searching for the ghost of something that once was.

But it is never returned. His touches are colder now, calculated in a way that makes you feel like a pawn rather than something cherished. There are no more absent-minded gestures, no more moments where his hand finds the small of your back without thinking.

And still, you do not speak of it. Instead, you watch.

You start noticing things.

The way his jaw tightens when you linger too close. The way his fingers curl ever so slightly when your voice is too gentle. The way his dark eyes, once alight with intrigue when they settled on you, now hold nothing but unreadable emptiness.

It is suffocating. The slow unraveling of something you never had words for, slipping from your grasp with every passing day. Tonight is no different.

You sit beside him in the dim candlelit corridors, your books spread out between you both, but it is silent. Too silent. Tom Riddle is many things—brilliant, ruthless, endlessly composed—but he is not quiet instead he is sarcastic.

But now, he reads in absolute stillness, the flickering candlelight carving harsh shadows across his face. You watch him, fingers curled tightly in your lap, your throat tightening with every second that stretches between you.

Say something. But you don’t. Because you’re afraid. Afraid that if you speak, the truth will slip past his lips— That you are not enough. That you were never enough.

So, instead, you say, “You’re tired.” It’s an offering, a small piece of normalcy, an attempt to breach the invisible wall between you. His dark lashes lift as he glances at you, his expression unreadable. Then, after a pause— “I have work to do.”

His voice is smooth, effortless, but there’s something clipped beneath it. Something that makes your chest tighten. You swallow. “You should rest.” A flicker of something crosses his face, but it’s gone before you can name it. He exhales slowly through his nose, setting his book aside with deliberate care.

“I don’t need rest, Y/N,” he says, and for the first time in days, you hear something sharp beneath his words. Frustration. At you.

You should leave it alone. You should nod, change the subject, let him be. But you don’t. Because you can’t take it anymore. You tilt your head, voice quiet but firm. “Then what do you need?”

A second of silence. Then— His gaze darkens, his entire body tensing, as if you’ve just asked something he’s unwilling to answer. But he doesn’t have to. Because you already know. You can see it in the way his fingers tighten on the armrest, in the way his throat works around words he doesn’t say.

He is slipping from you, and neither of you knows how to stop it. And for the first time, the weight of it crushes you whole. And you left. 

Hogwarts always hums with whispers.

They slither through the corridors like living things, curling around corners, tucking themselves into the spaces between students. You’ve never paid them much attention.Until now. You’re not looking for it, not eavesdropping, not chasing ghosts through the castle. But sometimes, the truth finds you whether you want it to or not.

The voices are hushed, just around the bend in the empty corridor. You wouldn’t have stopped if not for one single, cutting syllable— "Riddle."

Your stomach tightens instinctively. Not because of fear, but because it’s been weeks of this—of something shifting between you, of watching him slip through your fingers like water, of knowing and not knowing all at once. So you listen. "...come on, you really think he gives a damn about her?" A laugh—low, smug. "Riddle doesn’t care about anyone. She’s just another pawn in his little empire, like the rest of us."

The words should bounce right off you. They should feel absurd. A reach. A lie. But the response— Tom’s response— Never comes.

No denial. No sharp, clipped correction. Not even an ounce of amusement. Just silence.

And somehow, that silence is a knife through the ribs. You don’t even realize you’re backing away until your heel catches the stone step behind you. The sound barely registers. The hum of students in the distance is nothing but static. All you can hear is the echo of that damning silence ringing in your skull.

He let them believe it. He let them reduce you to something disposable, something useful, something beneath him. And he said nothing.

It’s not fire that burns through your veins. Not a dramatic, gasping devastation. It’s cold. Cold like the winter frost clinging to the stone walls. Cold like his fingers when they stopped lingering against yours. Cold like the way he looks at you now—like he’s forgotten how to be anything else.

You find him that night.

Not because you need him to deny it. Not because you need reassurance or soft-spoken words to piece you back together. But because you refuse to let him walk away from this without owning it.

The Room of Requirement is dimly lit when you step inside, your breath steady, your fury simmering just beneath the surface. He stands near the towering shelves, his back to you, his long fingers curled around the edge of an open book.

He doesn’t turn around. He felt you the moment you stepped inside. You know he did. The air thickens. Silence stretches between you, sharp and suffocating. You let it fester for exactly three seconds before you speak.

"Tell me I was just a game to you." His fingers still on the parchment. "Tell me," you continue, voice low, controlled, "so I can walk away."

Nothing.

Not a single breath of a response.

Your jaw tightens, nails biting into your palms. "No clever words? No manipulation? Just silence?" You let out a sharp laugh, one that barely contains the bitterness bleeding into your chest. "How strategic of you, Riddle." His posture remains perfect, unaffected, as if your words barely graze him. But you know him better than that. You know what to look for.

The faintest twitch of his jaw. The way his fingers tighten just so on the book’s spine. He swallows. Then, slowly, he closes the book, placing it back onto the shelf with calculated precision.

You cross your arms, raising an unimpressed brow. "Say something, Tom. Anything. Unless you’d rather me assume the worst."

He finally turns.

His dark eyes meet yours—still unreadable, still calm, but beneath it, something lurks. Something careful. Controlled. He steps forward. You don’t move. The dim light of the torches casts shadows across his face, making the sharp angles of his features even more devastatingly severe. He looks like something sculpted from darkness itself—something untouchable.

But you’ve touched him. You’ve known him.

Or at least, you thought you did.

His gaze drops to your lips for half a second. Then, back to your eyes. He studies you like a puzzle, as if trying to find the exact shape of your anger. Then, quietly— "You seem upset."

You laugh. The sheer audacity of it knocks the air from your lungs. "Brilliant observation, Riddle," you sneer. "Ten points to you." His expression doesn’t shift. He waits.

You shake your head, stepping closer, refusing to be the first one to look away. "So? Is it true? Have I been nothing but a convenient distraction for you?" Another unbearable beat of silence.

You expect an argument. A deflection. A game of words where he twists things back on you, makes you doubt what you heard. Because that’s what he does. That’s what he’s good at.

But instead— He gives you nothing. No lies. No truths. Just silence. The emptiness of it hollows out your chest more than any cruel confession ever could.

And suddenly, you understand.

Tom Riddle is a man who will never be honest about what he cannot control. He is a man who will never let himself be seen—not fully, not in the way you thought he had let you see him.

And the worst part?

You don’t know if he’s staying silent because he doesn’t care. Or because he does.

Your throat tightens, but you refuse to let it show. Instead, you tilt your chin up, exhaling slowly through your nose. "Right," you murmur. "Got it."

You turn, walking toward the door, forcing every step to remain steady, to not betray the way your ribs feel like they’re caving in on themselves. Behind you, Tom remains motionless. Watching. Silent. He doesn’t call after you. He doesn’t stop you. But he also doesn’t tell you to leave.

And that, somehow, makes it worse.

The halls of Hogwarts had never seemed so cold.

You’ve always known how to handle Tom Riddle. How to wear your strength like armor, how to make sure your words cut sharper than a blade. But now… now it’s different. There’s something behind his silence—something that gnaws at you more than any insult could. So you change.

You work harder. Push yourself to exhaustion in every class. You’ve always been brilliant, but now you push it further, always one step ahead, one move too sharp. You stop seeking his approval. You stop trying to meet his gaze.

You mirror him.

Cold. Detached. Untouchable.

If he can be like that, then why can’t you?

You don’t need him. You tell yourself that, every time the ache in your chest grows too heavy to ignore. You can’t allow yourself to need someone like him—someone who would so easily abandon you in the name of his control. You don’t need his warmth, his approval, his twisted little games.

Instead, you dive deeper into becoming something else—something better than him. You perfect the art of indifference, make it so tight you can’t feel a thing. The way you look at people changes, the way you speak shifts. You’ve learned to show no weakness.

Tom notices.

He watches from the shadows, silent and calculating, as you slip from his grasp. You used to be so sharp, so fiery,funny, sarcastic, cheerful, a force he couldn’t ignore. But now? Now he watches as you become a replica of everything he despises in himself, not that he will ever say it out loud. Hardened. Detached. Unreachable.

It pisses him off more than he wants to admit. He doesn’t want you like this. He never wanted you like this. He can’t stand it. The way you hold yourself back. The way you don’t show anu ounce of feeling

He hates it. And he hates that you think you have to change, to become something you’re not, just because of him. 

He tries to fix it.

Not with words. Not with warmth. Not with care. No. He tries to pull you back in the only way he knows how—through control. He corners you after classes. Put his hand on the door before you can leave. Block your path in the hallway. His presence is suffocating, but you don’t flinch.

You don’t even look at him. His eyes narrow, his lips tightening into a thin line. He can see the walls you’ve built. He can feel how cold you’ve become. He hates it more than he hates anything else.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks, voice laced with a mix of frustration and something darker. But you don’t answer. You don’t even look at him. You just walk past, ignoring him like he doesn’t even exist.

And it drives him crazy.

This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be. He’s Tom Riddle—he’s always been able to control everything, everyone. But you? You’re slipping. Slipping through his fingers, and he can’t get a hold on you anymore.

It infuriates him. The fact that you don’t need him. The fact that you’ve become this stranger he no longer understands.

But you? You don’t even care.

In the end, he’s left standing there—staring at your retreating form, realizing he’s losing you in the only way that matters to him: control.

And for the first time in his life, Tom Riddle feels something that isn’t power. Something sharp, unfamiliar. Something he’s never had to acknowledge.

Love? Care? Fear?

The days stretch on in silence between you and Tom. You don’t speak to him. Not a word, not a glance. You’ve locked yourself away in your routine, pushing forward like nothing has changed, though everything inside you feels fractured.

Tom doesn’t seek you out immediately. But it's not because he doesn’t care. It’s because he doesn’t understand it—what this is, what you are, how you’ve slipped so easily through his grasp.

People don't walk away from him. They never have.

He’s Tom Riddle—his name alone commands respect. Authority. Power. People cling to him. They crave his approval like a drug. His cold, calculating nature and the control he exudes make it impossible for anyone to slip away. But you? You’ve walked away, and that doesn’t sit right with him.

It unsettles him in a way he cannot even begin to articulate. He’s used to being the one with the upper hand, used to manipulating the people around him until they bend to his will. But this—this—is different.

And for once, he’s left standing there, unable to do a damn thing about it.

Tom watches you from afar.

Every moment you ignore him, every second you smile at someone else, every time you don’t acknowledge his presence—it stings. He watches you from across the courtyard, from the hallways, from the edge of the shadows.

It drives him mad. The way you’re slipping from him. The way you don’t need him.

And worst of all?

He can’t control it.

It’s late one night, the library unusually quiet, and there you are, sitting alone, exhausted. The stress of the past few days hangs like a weight on your shoulders. Your hands grip the edges of the book in front of you like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

And then, like some predatory shadow, he’s there. Tom Riddle.

You don’t even look up. You already know he’s standing there, that familiar presence looming over you.

“We need to talk,” his voice breaks the silence, cool and commanding.

You don’t bother to look at him. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” you reply flatly, not willing to spare him a glance.

Tom doesn’t take rejection well. He never has.

He doesn’t wait for your permission. In a single fluid motion, he slams your book shut, his hand still resting on it as his dark eyes bore into you. His voice is low, dangerous, like a storm brewing on the horizon.

“That’s not an option,” he says, a quiet rage simmering beneath the surface.

Your patience snaps. You look up at him now, your eyes blazing with fire. “I am not one of your followers, Riddle. You don’t get to control me,” you spit the words out, each one a jab.

Tom’s jaw clenches. His expression tightens with something you can’t quite place, but it’s raw—almost desperate. “That is not what I’m trying to do,” he says, voice tight, controlled, but something beneath it betrays him.

“Then what are you trying to do?” You stand, the fire in your voice only intensifying. “Because I don’t know what I was to you, Tom. A game? A challenge? Something to entertain you fucking dick—”

“Stop.” His voice cracks like a whip, and it cuts through the tension, sharp and unforgiving. He takes a step closer, a flash of something unfamiliar in his eyes, but he doesn’t reach out to you. Doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t move to claim anything.

“I never lied to you,” he says, and the words seem so damn final. “I never played you.”

“But you let them think you did,” you counter, your voice small but vicious in its accusation.

Silence falls. The kind of silence that feels like it could shatter everything in the room. He doesn’t deny it. Not this time.

He’s done it. He’s let the whispers—let the rumors—fester in the air, letting them become truth in the eyes of everyone else. The things they said about him. About you. About how he doesn’t care.

And this is where Tom falters.

For the first time in his life, he’s standing there, feeling something—but it isn’t control. It isn’t power. It’s raw. It’s human. And he doesn’t know what to do with it.

He doesn’t know how to fix this.

You stand, ready to leave, but before you can take a single step, his hand catches your wrist.

It’s not a harsh grip. Not a demand. Just a touch—one that shouldn’t feel as damning as it does.

"Don’t go."

It’s not an order. It’s not manipulation.

It’s a request.

A quiet, almost broken thing.

And that stops you cold.

Because Tom Riddle does not beg.

Your breath is uneven as you turn back to him, searching his face, looking for some flicker of deception, some indication that this is just another game, another tactic to keep you under his thumb. But what you find isn’t calculation. It’s not cold control.

It’s something raw. Something real.

"Give me one good reason," you whisper, your voice dangerously close to cracking.

For a moment, he just stares at you, something shifting in his dark eyes—something unreadable, something vulnerable. And then he says the words that shake you to your core. "Because I don’t know how to be without you."

It’s not flowery. It’s not poetic. It’s just true.

Tom Riddle does not understand love the way normal people do. He doesn’t offer promises of forever, doesn’t whisper pretty words into the air like they mean nothing. But he understands you. He understands this.

And for him, admitting that he needs someone? That’s bigger than any declaration of love could ever be. Your chest feels tight, emotions threatening to drown you, but you force yourself to stay steady. He has cracked something inside himself, something he has never dared to expose before.

But it’s not enough.

"Then be better," you tell him, voice firm but not unkind.

His fingers tighten around your wrist, his breath a little uneven, but he nods. He doesn’t promise—because promises mean nothing without action. You slide your fingers between his, lacing your hand with his. "Come with me."

The Room of Requirement shifts and bends to your needs, pulling from the deepest corners of your desires, your emotions. When the door materializes, you push it open and step inside, pulling him in with you.

The room is bare. Empty. Except for a single tulip in the center of the space.

The air is thick with unspoken words. Tom watches you carefully, as if trying to decipher some grand meaning behind your every move. You step forward, plucking the tulip from where it rests, before turning back to him. You hold it out to him, the petals soft against your fingertips. "Get on your knees."

His dark eyes flash. Tom Riddle does not kneel. But then again—Tom Riddle has never cared about anyone enough to chase them, either. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. You don’t move. You don’t waver.

His jaw tightens, tension coiling through his frame. But then—after what feels like a lifetime—he does it. He lowers himself. Slowly. Controlled.

His knees hit the ground, his gaze locked onto yours, something unspoken hanging between you both. His hands twitch at his sides, his breath slow but measured. And then—in his own way—he gives you what you asked for.

"I will never be the person you deserve," he murmurs, voice rough, edged with something unreadable. "But I will treat you as you deserve to be treated. I will try my best"

It’s not perfect. It’s not a romantic declaration.

But it’s Tom.

And for the first time, he is trying.

You kneel in front of him, pressing the tulip into his palm. His fingers close around it carefully, as if he’s never held something delicate before.

"This is your last chance, Riddle," you whisper, voice laced with finality. "Don’t waste it."And in that moment, as he holds onto the single flower like it might shatter in his grasp—he knows he won’t.

[gdinthehouseee]

Stars Rewritten: KWON JI-YONG x READER

summary: after he left you, you never heard from ji-yong again. or, that was the case, until you finally saw him again at a fashion show---where the walls you had spent so long building up around your heart finally crumbled down.

word count: 5062

tags: angst to fluff; exes to lovers, arguments, dramatic asf, you have a slight panic attack so please click off if you feel it's too much, hurt/comfort

ao3 link -- smau bonus

The air inside the Chanel afterparty was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and fine champagne, a blur of murmured conversations and polite laughter. Paris had a way of making everything feel ethereal—timeless—but the moment you locked eyes with Kwon Ji-yong, time felt like it had stopped altogether.

He stood near the bar, one hand lazily wrapped around a crystal glass, the other tucked effortlessly into his pocket. Even in a room full of icons draped in couture, he stood out. Always had. And yet, it wasn’t the sharp lines of his suit or the effortless way he carried himself that held your attention. It was his eyes. Dark, searching, and unreadable. They traced over you like a memory long buried, one he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to unearth.

Your chest tightened. You should’ve known he’d be here. Fashion and Ji-yong went hand in hand—just like you and him once did. Still, nothing could’ve prepared you for the way seeing him again would make your pulse stutter, for the way his presence still felt like a song you hadn’t heard in years but somehow still knew the lyrics to.

He didn’t look away. Neither did you. So, you did the only thing you could—you closed the distance.

Ji-yong watched as you approached, his lips curving slightly—not quite a smile, not quite a smirk. "Didn’t think I’d see you here," he murmured, voice smooth as ever.

"Paris is big enough for the both of us," you replied, tone casual, though your heartbeat told a different story.

"Is it?" He tilted his head slightly, studying you. "Funny. I feel like I see you everywhere."

"Sounds like a personal problem."

You refused to be the first to break. A quiet pause. He probably didn’t mean it literally, but the weight of his words settled between you. Did he mean in headlines? In music? In memories?

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink. "Still quick with the comebacks, I see."

You shrugged. "Some things never change."

His expression flickered—just for a second. Barely noticeable, but you caught it. A shadow of something deeper, something raw. "Some things do," he said quietly.

That—that was the first real crack in his composure.

Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to keep your expression unreadable. "Well," you exhaled, glancing around, "it’s good to see you’re still doing well."

"Are you?" His voice was softer now, but there was an edge to it—like he wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer.

"Of course," you answered, maybe too quickly. Too smoothly. Because what else were you supposed to say? That seeing him still made your heart ache? That Paris, no matter how romantic, still felt empty without him?

Ji-yong hummed, swirling the liquid in his glass. "Good." But he didn’t sound convinced.

You should’ve walked away. Should’ve let the moment pass, let him become just another face in the crowd, another ghost of your past that didn’t deserve to be resurrected. That would’ve been the smart thing to do—the safe thing. Just two people who used to know each other, exchanging polite words in a city meant for strangers and lovers alike. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Ji-yong had never been just someone you used to know. He had been your beginning and your ending, the song that played in the quiet corners of your mind long after the music had stopped. And now, standing in front of him again, feeling the weight of his gaze, hearing the softness in his voice that made old wounds ache—you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to pretend he was just another person in the room.

"Did you ever miss me?"

His voice—so much quieter, so much heavier—cut through the space between you.

"Did you?" You shot back immediately.

Ji-yong didn’t answer right away. He just stared, gaze unreadable, jaw tightening slightly like he was debating whether or not to tell the truth. Finally, he exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You always did know how to turn things around on me."

You smirked, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Guess some things really don’t change after all."

A flicker of something crossed his face—something almost nostalgic. Almost sad.

Before either of you could say anything else, someone called his name. His momentary distraction gave you the chance to take a step back, breathe, and remind yourself that you weren’t that person anymore—the one who used to fall so easily into his orbit.

His gaze flickered back to yours, as if considering whether to pull you back in or let you go. And then, with one last lingering look, he gave you a slow, almost reluctant nod.

"Enjoy your night," he murmured before turning away.

Ji-yong didn’t look back as he disappeared into the crowd, but he felt you lingering—like a song stuck in his head, like the one thing he thought he’d buried but never really could. His grip on his drink tightened, his pulse a little too quick, his thoughts a little too loud. He had spent so long convincing himself that time had dulled the edges of what you once were, that he had moved past the ache of losing you. But seeing you tonight? Hearing your voice, sharp as ever, watching the way your lips curled into that familiar smirk—it unraveled something in him. You still got under his skin. And maybe the worst part? Some small, stupid, hopeless part of him wanted to believe that he still got under yours, too.

The night air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of Paris beneath it—the soft wail of a saxophone from a street musician, the muffled laughter of strangers, the city breathing all around you. The elegant wrap draped over your shoulders did little against the chill, but you weren’t sure if it was the cold or the lingering weight of Ji-yong’s presence that sent a shiver through you. The party inside carried on without you—glasses clinking, laughter rising and falling, conversations blending into a meaningless hum. But out here, on the secluded balcony overlooking the city skyline, everything was still.

The cigarette between your fingers burned slowly, thin wisps of smoke curling into the night air. You took a slow drag, letting the warmth settle in your lungs, but it didn’t help. Nothing did. You exhaled, watching the smoke dissolve into the sky, your thoughts spiraling. You shouldn’t have come tonight. You knew there was a chance he’d be here. A part of you had even tried to prepare for it—but how do you prepare for seeing someone who once made you feel like your entire world revolved around them?

"You never used to smoke."

Ji-yong.

Your fingers twitched around the cigarette. You turned your head slightly, just enough to see him standing there, hands in his pockets, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“Not everything stays the same, y’know.” You mutter before taking another slow drag.

His gaze flickered, his jaw tightening for a fraction of a second before he stepped forward, resting his forearms against the railing beside you. Close, but not close enough. He let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. "Didn’t think I’d ever see the day."

You arched a brow, finally looking at him fully. "What, me smoking?"

He tilted his head, studying you the way he always used to—like he was peeling back layers, searching for something just beneath the surface. "You hated it. You used to steal my cigarettes just to throw them away."

You exhaled a humorless chuckle. "Maybe I just wanted to piss you off."

"Is that what this is, then? Still trying to piss me off?"

"Not everything is about you, Ji-yong."

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached over—slow, deliberate—and plucked the cigarette from your hand. You let him. He studied it for a second, rolling it between his fingers like he was trying to understand something unspoken. Then, just as slowly, he lifted it to his lips, taking a drag. Your stomach twisted. The sight was familiar and foreign all at once.

He exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the night, before finally speaking—softer this time.

"You used to say my name differently," he said quietly, tapping the ash off his cigarette.

Your breath hitched. "Don’t do that."

"Do what?"

"Talk like—like we’re still the same people we were back then."

A humorless chuckle escaped him, low and bitter. "We’re not. That’s the problem, isn’t it?"

You didn’t answer. Because he wasn’t wrong.

He took another slow drag, his shoulders rising and falling with the inhale before he turned to fully face you. "You never answered me earlier," he murmured.

"About what?"

"If you ever missed me."

Your stomach twisted. He said it so simply, like it wasn’t the very question that had kept you up on too many nights, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he had ever done the same.

You wanted to lie. You wanted to tell him no. That you had moved on, that the years apart had erased him, that the sight of him standing in front of you now didn’t make old scars ache.

But your silence said more than words ever could.

Ji-yong’s lips pressed together as he studied your expression, as if searching for something—an answer, a confession, proof that he wasn’t the only one who had spent all this time wondering what if.

And then, barely above a whisper, he spoke.

"I missed you."

It shouldn’t have mattered—it shouldn’t have felt like a punch to the chest, like something raw and aching unraveling inside of you. But it did. You tore your gaze away, focusing on the city lights in the distance, anywhere but him. 

"Don’t do that, Ji-yong." You repeated.

His brow furrowed. "Do what?"

"Say things like that," you muttered, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. "Like it changes anything."

"You think it doesn’t?"

It was your turn to huff out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "It’s been years."

"And?" His voice had an edge now, something frustrated, something almost desperate.

"And we ruined each other," you shot back, finally meeting his gaze again.

Ji-yong flinched, just barely—but you caught it.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was deafening, stretched tight between you like a thread on the verge of snapping. The air felt heavier out here, thick with the past, with every unspoken word, every unsent message, every lingering memory that neither of you had truly let go of. It was in the way Ji-yong’s gaze flickered, searching your face for something—a sign that you still felt it too, that he wasn’t alone in this quiet ache. It was in the way your fingers curled against the railing, gripping it as if it could steady you against the pull of him. So much had been left unsaid between you, but standing here, so close yet so impossibly far, you realized something terrifying. Maybe the past had never really let go of either of you.

"You really believe that?" he asked quietly.

Your fingers curled into your palms. "I have to."

Ji-yong inhaled slowly, like he was trying to keep himself together. Then, before you could react, he took a step closer. Too close. Close enough that you could smell his cologne, something familiar, something that shouldn’t still feel like home. Close enough that the warmth of his body seeped into yours, despite the cold air.

"Then tell me to walk away.”

Your pulse jumped. "What?"

"If you really believe that—if you really think we ruined each other—" he tilted his head, voice low, challenging, "then tell me to walk away."

You opened your mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.

He searched your face, something vulnerable breaking through his mask. "See?" His voice softened, barely more than a breath. "You can’t."

"That doesn’t mean—"

"It means everything," he interrupted, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. "We don’t end like this."

Your throat felt tight, emotions clawing their way up. "Ji-yong—"

He leaned in just a fraction more, voice barely above a whisper.

"Say it," he murmured. "Say you don’t miss me, and I’ll leave. Right now."

Your heart pounded. Because he was calling your bluff. Because you couldn’t say it. Because, no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much had broken between you—he was still the one person who could undo you completely.

And he knew it.

"You think this is fair?" You shot back, voice sharper than you intended. “Showing up after all this time like it means something. Like you didn’t—" You stopped yourself just in time, but it was too late. He caught it.

His jaw clenched. "Like I didn’t what?"

You swallowed, pulse hammering against your ribs. Walk away? Give up? Break me? The words were right there, but you couldn’t say them, because then he’d know. Then he’d see just how much of you was still tangled up in him.

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "I’m not playing games, if that’s what you think."

"That’s funny, coming from you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means this is what you do," you snapped. "You disappear. You come back when it’s convenient. You say just enough to make me wonder, just enough to make me—" You cut yourself off, breath shaking.

Ji-yong took a step closer. "Make you what?"

You clenched your jaw. "I don’t owe you an answer."

His expression flickered, something breaking through his mask for just a second before his voice dropped lower, rougher. "And who do you think lost?"

You huffed a bitter laugh, voice rising. "I don’t know, Ji-yong! You tell me! Because from where I’m standing, it sure as hell wasn’t you."

His eyes flashed. "You think I walked away easily?" His voice was sharp, almost disbelieving. "You think I just—what? Moved on? Forgot about you?" He let out a humorless laugh. "You have no fucking idea."

"Then why did you?"

"Why did I what?"

"Leave!"

Your voice cracked, but you didn’t care. The word rang out between you, cutting through the tension like a blade. Ji-yong’s breath hitched, his entire body going still.

"You think I wanted to?" He finally said, voice low, hoarse.

You scoffed. "I don’t know what you wanted!" You were almost yelling now, hands shaking. "Because if you wanted me, you should have fucking stayed!"

"You think I didn’t try?"

"You didn’t try hard enough!"

The words came out louder than you intended, your chest heaving with the weight of them. And for the first time tonight, Ji-yong flinched. The silence that followed was suffocating. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you, like he had to physically stop himself. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter but no less intense. "I still love you."

Your breath caught.

Ji-yong swallowed hard, his gaze burning into yours. "Not past tense. Not something I got over. I still fucking love you, and I think you know that."

Your fingers curled into fists, nails digging into your palms. "I—"

He took another step forward, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, close enough that your body betrayed you, leaning ever so slightly in his direction. "Tell me to stop," he murmured. "Tell me to let you go, and I will."

Your chest rose and fell rapidly. You should say it. You should end this now before you drowned in him all over again. But the words wouldn’t come, and he saw it. His lips parted slightly, his hands twitching at his sides, like he was holding himself back from touching you. And then—

"I can’t do this," you whispered, stepping back.

"Why?"

"Because," you breathed, voice breaking now. "Because if I let myself believe you, if I let myself want this again—" You exhaled shakily, blinking up at him, heart on the verge of breaking all over again. "I don’t think I’d survive losing you twice."

Ji-yong’s expression crumbled. His mouth opened, but for the first time tonight, he had nothing to say. And neither did you. The silence between you wasn’t thick with anger anymore: it was replaced with heartbreak.

"That’s all you’re going to say?"

"What else do you want from me!?"

"I want you to tell me the truth," he shot back. "I want you to stop acting like you don’t feel this."

"Feel what?" Your voice was sharp, a desperate edge creeping into your tone. "Whatever this was, it ended. You made sure of that."

His jaw tensed. "You think I had a choice?"

"You always had a choice!" You snapped, stepping forward, your anger swallowing the hurt. "You could have fought for me, for us. But you didn’t. You left, and you—" Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to keep going, keep pressing where it hurt. "You let me think I wasn’t enough for you."

Ji-yong's eyes flashed with something unreadable, something raw. "That’s not fair."

You let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, and what part of this is fair?"

He clenched his fists, exhaling sharply. "You think I wanted to leave? You think I just walked away without looking back?" His voice was rising now, matching yours, the heat between you bordering on explosive. "You have no idea how much I wanted to stay. How many nights I lay awake wishing things were different. Wishing I could be selfish enough to keep you—"

"Then why wasn’t I worth it?"

The words came out before you could stop them, loud and broken, filling the space between you like a gunshot.

Ji-yong inhaled sharply yet again, as if the weight of your words had knocked the air from his lungs. His mouth opened, then closed, his expression crumbling for a split second before he masked it again.

"Don’t," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "Don’t say that."

You let out a shaky breath, your throat burning. "Tell me I’m wrong, then. Tell me that when you left, it wasn’t because you decided I wasn’t worth the effort."

He stepped even closer, his voice low and urgent. "I never stopped loving you."

"Then why did you break my heart?"

The question shattered between you, both of you breathing hard, chests rising and falling as the weight of everything you’d buried finally cracked open.

"I don’t know," he admitted, his voice almost desperate. "I don’t fucking know. All I know is that being without you felt like hell."

Your breath stuttered, the world tilting beneath your feet, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a tidal wave. Too much. Too much. Too much. It clawed at your chest, curling tight around your ribs, making it impossible to breathe, impossible to think. This was dangerous. He was dangerous. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the room that mattered. The way his voice softened when he said your name, like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers all over again. The way your body still knew him, still ached for him, even after all this time.

And it terrified you.

Because if you stayed, if you let him keep talking, keep looking at you like that, keep picking apart the walls you spent so long building—you knew you’d crumble. You’d let him in again. You’d let yourself hope. And hope was the most dangerous thing of all.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms, grounding yourself in the sharp sting of it. You had to get out of here. Now. Before your heart could trick you into believing this could end any differently than it did before. Before you drowned in him all over again.

You took a shaky step back. Ji-yong’s eyes tracked the movement instantly, his entire body tensing like he knew exactly what you were about to do.

"Don’t," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but it might as well have been a plea.

Your throat burned. Don’t what? Run? Leave? Break his heart the way he broke yours?

"I can’t do this," you breathed, shaking your head as you took another step back. Then another.

Ji-yong moved instinctively, reaching for you, his fingers just barely brushing your wrist before you yanked away.

"Wait—"

But you were already turning, pushing past him, your breath coming in uneven gasps as you shoved open the balcony door and disappeared into the dimly lit hallway. You didn’t stop. Didn’t let yourself look back, didn’t let yourself hear the way his breath hitched when you slipped through his fingers.

You wove through the crowd in the main room, your pulse pounding in your ears, drowning out the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. The air inside was suffocating, thick with perfume and cigarette smoke and everything you needed to escape. You barely registered the curious glances thrown your way as you reached the entrance, shoving the door open and stepping into the cool night air. Only then did you finally exhale, your breath shaky as it left your lips in a sharp rush.

But it wasn’t enough.

The city lights blurred as you stumbled forward, needing distance, needing space, needing to outrun the ghosts of his words—I never stopped loving you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to breathe, to push him out of your head, out of your heart, out of your bones.

But even as you walked away, every step putting more distance between you and the only man you’d ever truly loved—you knew it wasn’t over.

Not yet.

You pushed yourself harder, each step taking you farther away from the noise of the venue, from him. The streets blurred around you as you walked, each step fueled by the need to get away, the need to breathe air that wasn’t saturated with him. You didn’t want to be there anymore.

Eventually, you found a quiet alley, tucked away between two tall buildings, far enough from the crowd to feel safe, but not too far that you’d lose yourself completely. You sank down to the cold concrete, pulling your knees to your chest, desperately trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart. You tried to force your breathing into something steady, something normal. You were fine. You had to be fine.

You were fine.

But then the panic started to creep in. That tightening feeling in your chest, the same feeling that had gripped you all those months ago. The fear, the helplessness, the suffocating weight of the past, of the break-up, of everything you hadn’t been able to say or let go of. The walls you’d built around yourself trembled. You weren’t fine.

The panic slammed into you full-force, and for a second, it felt like you were falling apart all over again.

This was dangerous.

Just like before. Just like the night he left.

You gasped for air, but it wasn’t enough. Your chest constricted, your vision blurred, and you swore you could hear your pulse pounding in your ears. You weren’t going to make it. You weren’t going to survive this. You needed to breathe, you needed to stop thinking about how close you were to that awful, broken place you’d sworn you’d never return to.

And then, you heard it—footsteps.

No.

You jerked your head up, eyes wide with panic, just in time to see him standing there—Ji-yong, standing in the dim light of the alley, his gaze locked onto you like he’d been tracking your every movement.

You tried to push yourself up, to move, to run. But your legs were weak, too weak, your knees buckling as your breath came in jagged gasps. You couldn’t escape this, couldn’t escape him.

“Stop.”

His voice was firm, but not harsh. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your wrist before grabbing your arm. Not painfully, but just enough to hold you still, enough to make you realize you couldn’t keep going.

You froze. The panic still gripped you, tightening your chest with every labored breath, but when his touch grounded you, something about the way he held you still made it worse. You hadn’t expected him to follow you. And now, here he was, like he’d found you in your most vulnerable moment.

He didn’t say anything else at first, just stood there, his grip on your arm gentle but firm, as if he was waiting for you to speak, to explain why you were falling apart, why you couldn’t keep it together. And then he spoke again, softer this time, with that quiet urgency that made your insides twist.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know.”

The words hit you like a wave.

You didn’t have to pretend. And that was all it took.

The tears you’d been holding back came crashing forward, hot and fast, spilling down your cheeks as your body started to shake. You tried to stand, tried to push through it, but the moment your legs gave out, Ji-yong’s arm shot around you, pulling you into his chest, catching you before you could hit the ground.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, his voice full of surprise, full of something else you couldn’t quite name. His arms tightened around you as you gasped for air, your whole body shaking from the intensity of it. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

You shook your head against his chest, unable to stop the tears, unable to stop the sobs that tore their way out of you. You hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to be here, hadn’t expected to break down in his arms again. But somehow, despite everything, despite how much you tried to push him away, you felt something in you soften, a part of you finally willing to let go.

He didn’t say anything more. He just held you, letting you cry against him, his grip never tightening, never too forceful, just enough to remind you that he was there.

Ji-yong's chest tightened as he held you close, his heart breaking into pieces with each sob that wracked your body. The way you trembled in his arms, the rawness of your pain—it was all too much. His mind replayed every moment, every misstep, every word he’d said or hadn’t said, and it all came crashing down on him. He had been the one to walk away. He had been the one to push you out of his life, to let pride and fear dictate his actions. And now, seeing you broken in his arms, it felt like he had destroyed something precious. The guilt gnawed at him, sharp and unforgiving. He was the reason you were hurting, the reason you’d built walls around your heart. His choices, his mistakes—he had caused this. The weight of it threatened to crush him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed you, that he had broken something that could never be fixed.

"I—" You choked on the air, the pain in your chest too much. Your heart ached, and you thought you might break again. But you couldn’t keep pretending. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. "I still love you, Ji-yong… I—I never stopped. But I’m so… so scared."

He didn’t say anything, didn’t even try to pull away or give you a soft smile to ease your discomfort. Instead, his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as though he wanted to absorb your pain, to make it his own.

“I can’t open up and have you leave all over again.” 

His voice cracked as he whispered, “I’m so sorry… for everything. I—God, I was stupid. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you, how much I was pushing you away. I thought I could handle it, thought I could fix everything, but I only made it worse.” He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “I’m sorry for leaving you when you needed me most, sorry for all the things I didn’t say, all the things I didn’t do. I’m sorry for every mistake, every time I made you feel less than—less than everything you deserve.”

His hands, which had once been so sure, trembled as they cupped your face, lifting your gaze to meet his. He could barely hold himself together, his own tears falling freely now. “Please… I’m begging you. Give me another chance. I—I swear I won’t mess it up this time. I can’t lose you again. I love you. I never stopped. Please, just—please don’t give up on us.”

The raw desperation in his voice, the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world, made your heart ache all over again. He wasn’t just apologizing; he was pleading, his voice breaking with the weight of everything he had failed to say before. And even though every part of you screamed in hesitation, you couldn’t help but feel the tiny spark of hope that maybe—just maybe—this could be the moment everything shifted.

“I’ll never give up on us,” he continued, his voice steady now, full of resolve. “I swear.”

A shaky laugh escaped you, despite the tears that still clung to your lashes. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

And with that, Ji-yong’s lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, as if testing the waters, before deepening into a kiss that spoke of all the things you’d both been too afraid to say. It was gentle, full of longing and the sweet promise of healing. The kiss was the beginning of something new, a new chapter where the mistakes of the past could be forgiven and the love between you could bloom once more.

When he pulled away, his thumb gently stroked your cheek, and he smiled—a smile that was as soft and loving as the words he had just spoken. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I know,” you whispered back. “I love you, too.”

taglist: @thanosscrossmain @maskedcrawford @mirahyun @riddlerloveb0t @onyxmango @sherrayyyyy @seunghyunwifey @petersasteria @allthoughtsmindfull

[yulin-pop]

i just saw your headcanon of Ace + Deuce w the same crush, but what if reader ended up w another person? (u can choose who you prefer to write)

⤷ ✧ 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭

order 91 | headcanons | Heartslabyul+Malleus|Gender Neutral

❀ NOTE: I chose the most ironic candidates, They never stood a chance against them

Of course they would know you had a crush, they both feigned surprise and begged for names and how and when this crush started. I mean, seriously, who could’ve caught your eye? You wouldn’t tell them which gave them both at least a little hope it could’ve been one of them.

Though as you dropped more hints, they learned they were an upperclassmen.

Well, sucks for them but just because you have a crush doesn’t mean it will be reciprocated— but they were proven wrong.

You would gush about the interactions you shared with your crush to the two, leading to some snooping. But they would never seem to catch you talking to whoever this mysterious yet charming guy was.

That was until you came forward with some news at lunch, with glimmering eyes and flushed cheeks you announced…

➺ Riddle Rosehearts

“Me and Riddle are official.”

Neither of them are happy, far from it. They hide their true opinion of it. Yeah, they would be upset no matter who it was but Riddle? He was a psycho when they first met, caused a lot of trouble for all of them and somehow you caught feelings for him.

But you have a rebuttal towards Ace, he was your first bully when you came to Night Raven but you’re still friends. One can argue he’s still your bully actually.

But then they find it hard to imagine Riddle in all those rants you went on about. Before you and Riddle began dating, you freaked out when you went on a study and brunch date with him.

He wiped your face and leaned in close enough you could feel his breath against your ear. Good for you (I guess) but it’s hard to see Riddle doing that.

Their first reaction is to go to Grim and just unleash every thought they had on the matter at him.

“I mean seriously Riddle? He’s shorter than both of us! Isn’t it crazy since I was always the closest. I walked [Name] to class multiple times but it’s special when Riddle does it. It’s so dumb. I bet they’re both too shy to do anything to the point where they just look into each other’s eyes. That’s so awkward!!” Ace rambled.

“Yeah!” The only thing Deuce could do was agree since Ace was already saying everything on his mind.

I think the first week they’re in disbelief and just go silent whenever you mention Riddle. The second week is when the teasing starts. By teasing they’re actually helping you since when you see Riddle, they push you into him. Which always leads to Riddle catching you and both of you getting flustered.

As much as they did like you, as said by Grim, they need to accept it. Deuce seemed to be the most crushed out of the two but that’s just because Ace hid it behind indifference.

They’re both the people who will always be on your side when you and Riddle have a fight. They don’t just blindly agree though, if you did something wrong they’re going to tell you.

It’s hard to say if they will lose feelings for you after you started dating someone else. I think they won’t ever lose the affection they had for you but the crush and the potential you had together will be pushed to the back of the brain for as long as you were happy with someone else. That’s what mattered more.

➺ Cater Diamond

You shoved your phone screen in their faces and showed a video recording of Cater confessing to you with a poster and flowers. The video ending with you hugging Cater and his arms wrapped around you.

Okay with Cater it’s not as big of a surprise. He wasn’t clueless in dating but not what you would call “experienced”. Looking back at everything you gushed about it did sound like Cater.

All the mentions of selfies and how he would always take pictures of you, remarking how cute and photogenic you were. It checked out seeing how often he posted you in the past few weeks, they’re kinda mad they didn’t realize it sooner. Of course there was a whole post on his MagiCam announcing your relationship. Just to be expected of Cater.

Deuce asked if you were okay with your relationship being out there like that and surprisingly you were, not caring how embarrassing it could be.

Ace is the one who makes you feel embarrassed about it though. He points out and laughs at all the photos Cater posts of you two. And yeah he left some satire hate comments.

The first week is almost unbearable, especially because Cater is pretty open about how his happy-go-lucky mood is because of you.

“After months of constant rizzing and going out on dates, they said yes.” He would proudly proclaim to whoever asked.

Ace accidentally cut him off mid sentence to tell him to shut up and then Deuce has to apologize. Ace is slightly hostile to Cater while Deuce is just short with him but that eventually goes away.

Whenever Cater is anywhere near by. Ace says “Oh look it’s your boyfriend go kiss him!” But before you could react Cater is already walking over and steals you for whatever reason.

➺ Trey Clover

“I managed to confess to him… Trey said yes.”

They were surprised, Trey was a wild card but it’s not like he was the worst out of the upperclassmen. But it all made more sense how when you would come over to Heartslabyul, you’d always go to the kitchen saying you’re hungry and wait around until you found Trey. Not only that you wouldn’t even eat. Same with how you randomly took an interest in baking and started taking lessons from Trey.

Deuce is awkward and Ace is slightly irritated but both congratulate you but Ace mentioned how it was weird you had to confess. Though that led to you going into a strained retell of how you confessed and how Trey reacted and how wonderful it all was.

Trey did seem sort of distant when with you but that really didn’t seem to affect how you were with him. Ace and Deuce got the slight impression Trey was inexperienced. Deuce wasn’t one to judge but Ace was the one to scoff at it.

Trey wouldn’t mention it unless anyone asked, more importantly when you saw him at lunch or during school Ace would try to push you over to him but you insisted you wanted to leave him alone. Why is that? You two didn’t seem to interact much even though you were dating.

Ace and Deuce mentioned this to Grim, just because they were nosey and all. “Seriously you think they’re distant? Man if only you KNEW… [Name] is almost never here because they’re out with Trey and when they are home they’re talking about how much they want Trey to come over.”

So that’s how it was, they’re the more hidden couples but in private they act completely differently. Additionally, that explains why you’ve been texting them less after school. They don’t have a lot to say besides the normal anguish that comes with unrequited love.

-ˋˏ Malleus Draconia

“I think me and Horton are dating?”

Oh yeah that’s pretty normal, just you announcing your possible relationship with the most powerful fae in school and the future king of Briar Valley. Now what’s with that vague wording?! It’s either you are or you aren’t.

They shake you and demand answers out of you. But you can’t answer some of them. The truth is you confessed but you received a vague answer back. “How cute… I admit somehow my heart aches with approval.” That’s all you got back.

Now Ace, you and Deuce began theorizing what it meant. You hoped it to be acceptance but the other two prayed you’d be rejected. You’ve told them everything about this “Horton” which was later to be discovered as Malleus Draconia… Despite the discovery, you still had feelings for him.

They knew who they were up against though. But they weren’t even sure if it was a competition since you’d had an interest in him and he may like you back. But they’ve never been the types to back down.

You raved about it over and over to them, though they would talk down your excitement. You were really happy and it’s not like they don’t want you to be happy but… you’re not even dating so just hold your horses. They tried to make so points like Malleus is the heir to Briar Valley so there’s issue with that and his emotions can cause devastating storms so leaving him on read may or may not tear down Ramshackle.

Regardless, you planned to meet with him again to confirm the status of your relationship and Deuce and Ace turned to Grim once they realized they couldn’t stop you.

They were trying to force Grim to go along with their plan of talking you down from dating Malleus, then to stop you from meeting with him at night by any means necessary but Grim could only do so much.

The next morning, you had small bags under your eyes but were brimming with joy, talking about how you love Horton. Besides how politically crazy your relationship is for Malleus, they’re supportive as long as you’re happy. Nothing changed much besides the fact you always want to talk about your boyfriend.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve was cleaning up in his room, Eddie and Dustin playing outside while the food was waiting to get done in the oven. Claudia had to go out of town, so Dustin was staying with him, which meant Eddie was over all the time. Not that Steve minded. He wasn't scared of Eddie being a vampire now, and neither was Dustin. Steve was fixing his bed when Dustin's grinning face appeared in the window before quickly disappearing. Steve rolled his eyes and continued fixing his bed. Suddenly, he froze and looked at the window. Dustin's face appeared, and disappeared again. Steve shrieked and ran out of the room. He burst out the back door and found that Eddie was using his vampire strength to throw Dustin up in the air. He caught him every time, but. . .

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND?! DO YOU WANT HIM TO LOSE MORE BONES?!" Steve screamed.

"I don't have collarbones due to a genetic condition, Steve," Dustin said, once Eddie set him down. "Not because they fell out of my body."

"You need to relax. He's perfectly safe with me," Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Our mom - I mean his mom would not like this at all," Steve said with his hands on his hips.

"I'm going to call mom and tell her you called her mom. She's so going to cry," Dustin said. "She's not going to be able to hear anything else."

"Why don't you go ahead and clean up? Dinner's almost done," Steve said. "And clean under your fingernails!"

Dustin mocked him with his hands as he went inside. Eddie laughed, and Steve whirled on him.

"What?" Eddie asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?!"

"He could have been hurt!" Steve exclaimed.

"I couldn't say no to the kid. He gave me the puppy dog eyes," Eddie pouted.

"I keep telling you! Don't look him in the eyes! That's how he gets you!" Steve said, slapping his hands for emphasis.

"How can I say no to him when you have a hard time saying no to him?" Eddie said.

"That's exactly why I'm so hard on you," Steve smirked.

"You'd make a good dad, you know?" Eddie said, stepping close to him.

Eddie stepped right into his space and placed his hands on his hips. He squeezed them before wrapping his arms completely around Steve’s waist, pulling him closer.

"Yeah?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Eddie said.

"Thanks for not saying mom," Steve said.

"You're welcome. Look, the kids joke about it way too much, and I know you have nothing against it, but you say a joke too many times, and it starts to get stale," Eddie said, rolling his eyes. "You have to let it breathe. . .Besides, I know how much you want to be a dad, baby, and I wish more than anything that I could make you one."

"I wish I could make you a dad, too," Steve said softly.

Eddie grinned and patted his butt affectionately.

"OH MY GOD! ARE YOU GUYS DATING?!" Dustin screeched.

The back door was open, and Dustin was standing there, gaping. Eddie and Steve shared a look. Sometimes, they'd get this look in each other's eyes, and the other person somehow knew what they needed to do.

"We're just friends," Steve scoffed.

"Eddie called you baby and grabbed your butt!" Dustin exclaimed.

"I was being friendly!" Eddie said defensively.

"You don't slap a friend's ass and you don't call them baby!" Dustin yelled.

"Maybe you don't do that with your friends," Steve sighed.

"Maybe you should, though," Eddie grinned. "It's a wonderful experience."

"Look, Dustin, Eddie and I are just friends. We both like women," Steve said.

Dustin took off his hat and scratched his head. He studied them and sighed.

"Okay. I can't tell you how I know this but. . .there's this thing I just learned about. It's called bisexuality," Dustin said.

Eddie and Steve shared another look, trying not to laugh. They turned back to Dustin.

"So, tell us more about this. . . Bicycle?" Eddie asked.

"No, it's bilingual," Steve said, snapping his fingers at him.

"That's when you like more than one language, Steve," Eddie said, rolling his eyes.

"BISEXUAL!" Dustin yelled.

"Bicentennial?" Steve asked, screwing up his face.

"That's when you like more than one centipede," Eddie said seriously.

"BI - SEX - UAL," Dustin said slowly.

"Oooh, bisexual!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Oh, yeah, I've heard of that. That's when you like more than one sex position," Steve said.

Dustin stared at them, blinking rapidly as his cheeks grew red with annoyance.

"It's when you like more than one gender," Dustin said in a calming voice, and they burst into giggles. "YOU - YOU WERE YOU JUST MESSING WITH ME?!!"

"Yeah, we figured it out a while ago," Eddie cackled.

"Someone has to keep your tone and ego in check," Steve said.

Dustin sighed and face planted into the grass. Eddie laughed and picked him up off the ground. He hugged him tightly.

"We love you even if you are a butthead," Eddie said.

"I really think this is great," Dustin said, his voice muffled by Eddie's chest.

"We figured," Steve grinned as Dustin pulled himself out of Eddie's arms.

"You said that you'd wish more than anything that you could make Steve a dad," Dustin said to Eddie. "How far would you go to make that happen?"

"I'd sell my fucking guitar if that's what it would take," Eddie sighed.

"Are you serious?!" Steve asked, his eyes soft and wide. "But you love that guitar."

"I love making sure that we have a future we both want more than the guitar," Eddie said seriously.

"So. . .you love Steve more than the guitar?" Dustin asked.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie said, flashing his dimples.

Steve crashed his lips to Eddie's, pulling him in close. He poured every feeling he had into the kiss and then pulled back, leaning his forehead against Eddie's.

"I fucking love you. You don't have to sell your guitar, though. We can figure out what kind of future we want without selling it," Steve said.

"Really?" Eddie asked.

"I love that guitar. You love that guitar. I especially love the way you look playing it. So sexy," Steve said, biting his lip. "You're worth it, Eddie."

"You're worth it, too," he whispered.

They pulled away from each other and found Dustin beaming at them.

"Awesome," he breathed. "Dinner's done, by the way. . .oh, Mom said that you're never to call her Claudia again. It's Mom from here on out."

"I can live with that," Steve grinned.

"So, you seriously can't tell us how you know about bisexuality?" Eddie asked as they walked inside the house.

"It's not my secret to tell," Dustin said.

"Ahhh," Steve and Eddie said.

"Gotchya," Eddie grinned.

"But I can tell you this, it has made me question my own sexuality," Dustin said. "Ever since Suzie broke up with me. . .I don't think I care if my next partner is a guy or a girl. I'm undefined, I guess. In fact, Will's been looking pretty cute lately, ever since he's been mostly hanging out with me. . . I guess I like that he's interested in my inventions."

"That's really great," Steve grinned.

Eddie clutched his chest as Dustin walked in front of him.

"I'm so proud of you, man," Eddie said. "We both are."

"Thanks," Dustin said.

As Steve was pulling the lasagna out of the oven, Eddie was heating up a mug of animal blood. Dustin set the table and let Steve serve the food. Eddie leaned against Steve, smiling at him as he sipped his blood. Dustin was no longer paying attention to them but focused on his food.

"This is good practice, don't ya think?" Eddie asked Steve.

"Definitely, I think if we can handle Dustin, we can handle anything," he laughed.

"Do you think - ," Eddie stopped himself and frowned.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Do you think that I would - ,"

"I think that you would make a wonderful father, Eddie," Steve said. "I know any kids would be safe with you. I was just - "

" - being a worrywort?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah," Steve said sheepishly.

Eddie leaned forward and kissed him. Steve winced.

"Oops, sorry. Forgot about the blood," Eddie said.

"I am trying to eat here!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Eat your lasagna, Garfield," Eddie said.

Steve laughed and leaned his head against Eddie. Yeah, the future was clear to see, and it was a bright one. Steve watched Eddie drink out of his Garfield mug. God, one of their kids was going to be named after that goddamn cat, weren't they?

[captain039]

PART 4 Blood, Fur and Magic

Vampire Viktor x reader x Werewolf Jayce

Warnings: Vampire things, werewolf things, light swearing, possessiveness, smut, sexual, intimacy, poly relationship, angst, violence

Previous part <-

You’re scared, of everything that’s happened, of yourself, of whoever keeps haunting your dreams. It’s always cryptic messages, accept the bond, we have given a gift, never useful information. You’re tired, you haven’t slept properly in days and you’re angry. This magic or whatever it is reacts to your emotions and since you’re constantly on edge and angry it is too, you’ve noticed runes over your body, like they’re etched into your skin glowing blue over your arms, hands and torso. You don’t know what they mean, neither do Jayce or Viktor, the runes on the hexcore are different to the ones littering your body and sitting there with your top off so they could copy them was horrifying. You were a tomato the whole way through sitting there beet red while Viktor copied them onto paper and Jayce studied them. You thought at least Jayce would take mercy but no, he was too engrossed in finding out what they meant to even care. You know it was for science but still, you’ve never shown a man anything besides legs and arms and face.

You sit on the couch trying to focus on the book you’re reading but finding it difficult you make a noise of frustration the runes on the back of your hands pulsing in response.

“Tea?” You jolt but see Viktor in the kitchen putting the kettle on and nod muttering a thank you as you run a hand down your face and place the book down. You hear another set of steps leave Viktor’s room and figure Jayce is either grabbing food or going to the bathroom. Jayce sits by you though and you give him a small brief smile.

“Are you ok?” Jayce asks and you give him a small look.

“Right,” he mutters looking embarrassed.

“Do you need anything?” He asks hesitantly.

“Sleep without dreams or visions or whatever the hell they are” Your voice is snappy without meaning to and you tug the blanket you have over yourself closer.

“I’m sorry” you mumble.

“Can I do anything to help?” Jayce asks and you glance at him before shaking your head he looks sad when you do and you sigh a bit. You hesitate but begin to move you lean closer to him resting your head on his shoulder hesitantly. Jayce is quick to catch on, he lifts his arm and wraps his strong arm around your shoulders keeping you close. You melt into him he’s a little too warm but it’s comforting. Viktor comes over with two cups of tea in hand he gives one to you before sitting on the other side of you where you were previously. You lean against Jayce and sip on your tea in silence for a while enjoying the presence of both men. Once you’ve finished you put the cup on the coffee table before leaning back against Jayce his warmth and light cologne make you drift off to sleep your body heavy.

Jayce feels you slump heavier against him and glances down seeing your eyes closed he smiles to himself gently guiding you to lie on his lap instead. Viktor shares his thoughts and gently lifts your feet onto his lap so you’re lying down instead. Jayce sighs and leans his head back against the couch staring at the ceiling, he knows it’s been hard on you to accept this, it’s been hard on all of them, Jayce with being taken away and changed, then the explosion, Viktor practically pronounced dead than changed and now you with magical abilities he’s never seen before. His hand rests on your shoulder absentmindedly tracing random patterns, he wonders why you see those figures in your dreams, they’re definitely the same mages that took him dark blue hooded robes and no faces. He glances at Viktor who’s clenching his jaw a little harshly, his eyes swirling more red than normal, he notices Viktor’s irritableness, the soft snarling or hissing he does the quick snapping nature is unlike him.

“What?” Viktor asks voice low.

“You need to feed” he mutters careful not to wake you.

“Not till I find a solution” Viktor snaps back he’s got one hand resting on your calf the other clenching the armrest of the couch.

“Viktor there is no solution, I offered already” he whispers.

“I said no Jayce, I won’t-“ he breaks off eyes hard.

“You won’t hurt me” he offers softly but it doesn’t sway him.

You sleep well no dreams or strange visions, you wake up to soft snores above you and smile briefly to yourself. You feel Jayce’s thighs under your head and you glance down yourself seeing your feet in Viktor’s lap. He has his eyes closed but he sits up straight, ridged. He must feel you awake because his eyes open and meet yours an intense swirl of red and purple in his eyes his hand gripping your calf a little tighter. You frown at his tense posture and carefully sit up. He doesn’t let you move your feet though, keeps them in his lap.

“Vik?” You ask softly his eyes snapping to yours again. Jayce wakes behind you his hand touching your back instinctively.

“He needs to feed,” Jayce says voice husky from sleep behind you.

“Viktor” you sigh.

“No” Viktor snaps at both of you harsh and firm making you flinch. It feels like a stab and you notice your runes glowing in response to it.

“Viktor you’ll die” Jayce says firmly.

“I won’t let that happen again!” He adds his voice thick with emotion.

“I said you wouldn’t hurt me” his voice is pleading.

“I killed that nurse!” Viktor says harshly.

“Viktor you just woke up, neither of us was there for you,” Jayce says sounding guilty.

“If not him then me,” you say even if the idea scares you, he’s done it before in your dreams.

“Jayce is strong enough to pull you off if it gets too much” you add and Viktor looks at you again. He looks between you and Jayce, eyes calculating before he looks away again.

“I mean you’ve done it once before in my dreams, I felt it” You shrug and his jaw ticks.

“Viktor please, you won’t hurt her, I’ll make sure you won’t” You feel Jayce’s hand move from your back to give your side a gentle squeeze. Viktor sighs running his hand over his face and through his hair.

“You’ll pull me off, you promise?” He asks Jayce.

“I promise,” Jayce says.

“How do we-?” You trail off a bit.

“Lie back” Viktor orders and you flush but nod. You glance to Jayce who gives you a small nod. You wait for him to move off the couch but he doesn’t and you grow embarrassed before lying back in his lap. Viktor moves over you his face hovering above yours you feel your heart racing in your chest your mind going a million miles an hour. You see Viktor’s eyes go more red, his eyes pinpointed to your neck. You tilt your head as he leans closer breath fanning your neck.

It’s the same feeling two pricks of ice in your neck making you gasp and grip his arm. Viktor lets out a rumble that shakes his whole body before he presses closer and sucks harder. You make a small noise feeling a sudden warmth flood your body, your mind going a little hazy. The runes appear again on your skin glowing brightly thrumming with your heart quickly. Viktor lets out a small growl pressing himself impossibly closer again, you feel hazy, and dizzy you grip his arm weakly and let out a small weak moan.

“Viktor” Jayce says but Viktor doesn’t listen.

“Viktor” Jayce growls something more beast than human and Viktor lets go of your neck. He pants heavily and you let out another weak moan at the loss of warmth, only the dizziness and a small throb in your neck left. Viktor swipes his tongue over the two bite marks and it makes your whole body shudder. He stays there a moment and you feel lips press to your neck before he lifts himself to look at your face. You feel embarrassed with how warm you feel now, it feels like you can feel your blood thrumming through his body and your own, the runes on your body pulsing in time with it.

“Are you ok?” Viktor asks worry and you notice the red in his eyes gone, now there normal purples, blues and light reds.

“I’m uh-“ your voice is breathless and you flush furiously at how pathetic it sounds. You clear your throat blink and nod a few times.

“I’m fine, um- water?” You say and Viktor nods getting off you. You sigh in relief sitting up way too fast your head spine.

“Easy,” Jayce says voice a low rumble that makes your body shudder and magic spike.

“Don’t do that” you mutter without thought.

“Do what?” He asks frowning.

“Nothing- don’t worry” You flush and take the cup quickly from Viktor get up on shaky legs and manage to get to your room. You put the glass down before you drop and close your door falling on your bed and panting heavily, your stomach clenches in a need you don’t quite understand and you suddenly feel yourself embarrassingly wet. You just got turned on by Viktor drinking your blood, and Jayce’s voice.

You want to die, you want the world to swallow you up so you don’t have to exist. You drink the water and sigh softly at the coolness. You shake your head furiously muffling your groan into your pillow.

Viktor feels alive, the thrum of your blood in his body. He’d never felt anything like that, it was so much better than the nurse's blood, he could taste the ancient magic in your blood almost like a spice. He lost himself the moment it flowed onto his tongue, your weak little moans made a different hunger flare in him. You gripping him like a lifeline, he had pressed himself close and not close enough he needed more, he needed you shaking around him while he drank you.

“Viktor” he jolts at his name being called. He can feel your arousal with your blood so fresh coursing through him.

“What did you say?” Viktor asks.

“Are you ok?” Jayce says. Viktor thinks it sweet, but that show of power from Jayce forcing him to stop sent a different kind of shudder through his body, the same want and need but for a different person.

“Yes, I am” Viktor nods. He glances to your door your state of arousal slowly lowering.

“Feel better?” Jayce asks and he nods looking to his hands in his lap.

Jayce could smell it, the desire the burning need from both of you. He could’ve moved, could’ve stood by instead of had you lie on his lap while Viktor drank from you, or was for purely selfish reasons. You’d look so peaceful in his lap, you smelt so good like home with a tinge of magic in your veins. When Viktor drank from he felt you warm up, smelt you grow wet from it and it took every ounce of control not to snake his hand between your two bodies and add to the situation. The small moans you let out made something deep and primal in him come out. Watching Viktor shake on top of you, hearing the deep satisfied rumble he let out made his beast purr, he had his hand on Viktor’s neck in case he needed to pull him off, but he also held it there, gently gripping, gently ran his fingers through his growing coffee brown locks which made him shudder even more.

What was happening to you all?

next part ->

[the0doreslover]

Theodore nott | miscommunication

pairing: theodore nott x reader

warnings: angst to fluff, readers a bit annoying at first, use of y/n, mattheo riddle and hermione being a dream team, not much tbh, not proofread

summary: you get in your own head about people’s opinions and almost cost your whole relationship, but hermione and mattheo are not about to let that happen

it just wasn’t fair.

Because of the colours he wore he wasn’t allowed to love you?

He’s the one who holds you at night

He’s the one who helps you study

He’s the one who makes you smile

Bullshit, it was all bullshit. You were both happy loving each other in secret until a few weeks ago when he found you in the astronomy tower.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and placed a gentle kiss to the side of your face. You looked back at him and gave him a small smile.

“What’s wrong?” he asked you

“nothi-”

“don’t give me that, what’s wrong?”

“do you not worry about our future?” you sighed

“not really, why?” he unwrapped his hands from your waist and turned you to face him.

“do you think we even have a future?”

theodore took a step back “i do, do you not?”

“I just think” you looked down “we’re setting ourselves up for failure, Think about it theo, everyone will have an issue with us, which is why we have to love each other in secret. Why are we doing this to ourselves.”

he took a breath in “do you want to tell people about us? i don’t understand”

You felt bad, but you couldn’t explain it to him.

“No- no that would make it worse”

“y/n do you think this is fair” he scoffed

“think what is fair”

“us having to hide because people have their opinions”

“theo-”

“no! this is not how i want this to go, i love you” he waited for you to say it back.

“i love you” he walked closer to you lifting your head up with his hand.

he waited for a few seconds before sighing and turning towards the railing

“theodore” you could tell he was angry

“you had no issue saying it to me last night, or the night before that when you were practically throwing yourself at me-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you” you seethed “i think we need to seriously think about us theo”

“what’s there to think about?”

“well we clearly have an issue if you think this can work just like that” you walked away from him

That was the last time theodore had spoke to you in four weeks.

The valentines ball was tonight and you had no issue missing out, infact that was your plan. No theo, No point, even though you knew it was your fault, that stupid outburst you had on the astronomy tower had been haunting you.

“God why are you not ready? The ball is starting soon” hermione gasped at the sight of you in your blanket.

“i’m not going hermione”

“like hell you aren’t, get up and get ready” she snickered

“no, i’m really not going” you asserted.

She came and sat on the edge of your bed, her hair was pinned up and she was waiting to put her dress on. “What’s wrong? do you not have a date? neither do i, i’ll go with you”

“No hermione it’s not that i promise”

“then what is it?”

you sighed running a hand over your face “What would you do if i told you i loved someone”

“i’d be incredibly happy for you”

“but what if i told you i loved someone that everyone would have an issue with”

she thought for a moment “then i’d say tell theodore you don’t care what others think and you want to be with him.”

registering what she said you felt yourself smiling

“y/n we both know how bad it gets when you get in your own head, next time speak to me, we all know about you and theodore. You’re not slick” she laughed

“thank you mione” you pulled her into a hug

“you can thank me by getting ready, and fixing it with nott”

“how’d you know there’s something wrong”

“come on? sweats, seriously?”

That’s how you found yourself in the middle of the great hall with a glass of fred and george’s famous ‘fruit punch’ in a long dress and uncomfortable heels contemplating whether or not you should just go back to your dorm.

Theodore was in a similar position, he stood with a glass of ‘punch’ leaning against the wall watching his best friends dancing.

“Theodore stop being grumpy and come dance” pansy called out to him.

“i’m good thanks” he grumbled back.

He watched as mattheo walked towards him before leaning on the wall next to him.

“You’re a stupid man theo”

“tell me something i don’t know”

“you should go and dance with her”

“who?”

mattheo laughed silently before pointing his head towards where you stood looking bored and theodore’s breath caught in his throat.

“why- why would i dance with her?”

“you forget that i’m your bestfriend, you’re not slick”

“she doesn’t want to dance with me”

“For gods sake Nott!”

both boys looked to where hermione had magically appeared out of nowhere

“Go and dance with her!”

Theodore was in a bit of shock actually.

“You know what maybe i’ll go and dance with her” mattheo rolled his eyes and began pushing himself off the wall.

Theodore pushed him back and placed his drink in his chest. “No way that’s my girl”

Hermione and mattheo watched as he strolled over to you.

“We make a good team granger” mattheo smirked

“back off riddle”

“dance with me?”

“… yeah sure”

you sighed for what felt like the 100th time that night, you had sat yourself on a random table next to a few sobbing girls when you noticed theodore walking towards you.

Quickly you stood up before he got to you so you were face to face.

“Hi-” you both said at the same time making you both laugh slightly

“I’m sorry!” you quickly rushed out before he begun talking

“no, i’m sorry”

“what are you sorry for theo? i started it, i got in my own head can we forget about it?”

“You dressed up looking all gorgeous, i’ve already forgotten about it” he grinned extending his hand towards you “will you dance with me”

Grabbing his hand you pulled him towards you and smashed your lips onto his, wrapping your hands around his neck you felt instant relief when he reciprocated your actions and begun kissing you back.

When you finally broke the kiss, there was a shared understanding in your eyes, and with the taste of reconciliation lingering in the air, you and Theodore shared a knowing smile. The tension that had built up over the past weeks seemed to dissipate completely.

"Shall we actually go and dance now?" Theodore suggested, his hand still intertwined with yours.

A sense of relief washed over you, and you nodded,

He guided you toward the dance floor, and as you began to sway together, the world around you blurred, and all that mattered in that moment was you two, not anyone else who had an opinion, they could fuck right off.

“by the way, everyone knows. We’re not slick baby”