#wanna guess how many pages i read

[kirbyddd]

[cloudybarnes]

Secret Admirer

Pairing: slytherin boys x reader

Summary: you never get mail in the morning, not until one day you receive a letter from an anonymous sender, a secret admirer. From that day forward, you’ve been getting letters, poems, and cute little notes each morning at breakfast. His words were sweet, and as you began to fall for them, your quest of figuring out who sent them only grew.

Word Count: 4.1k+

Masterlist

note: trying something new! basically I dont wanna spoil who her secret admirer is, so I’m gonna call it slytherin boys x reader hehe guess you’ll have to read til the end to see who sent her the letters ;)

✰  ✰  ✰

“Theodore Nott, I’m gonna kick your sorry ass!” You shouted. 

You reached across the table in the great hall where Theo sat directly in front of you. He had stolen all of the bacon off of your breakfast plate and refused to give it up. Mornings were always quite hectic at the slytherin table, but this was downright unacceptable.

“Nope,” he smirked as he popped a piece into his mouth, “they were all out when I went up for breakfast. This bacon is mine now, sweetheart.”

You huffed, and sat back down in your seat. “You’re ridiculous. If you weren’t so damn late all the time, maybe you would have had some bacon of your own.”

“Here (Y/N),” Enzo smiled from his seat right next to you. “You can have some of my bacon.” He picked the best looking pieces and put them on your plate. 

“Aw, Enzo!” You grinned as you picked a piece up and ate it happily. “This is why you're my best friend.”

“Hey!” Pansy shouted from the other side of you. “Thought I was your best friend.”

“You didn’t give up a piece of bacon for her,” Draco smirked, “you’ve been demoted.”

Mattheo gruffed. “Enzo, you’re kind of mean, you know that? (Y/N) complains she’s all out of bacon and you jump to give her a piece, but when I say I need someone to do my charms homework for me, you don’t even try to lift a finger.”

“Mattheo, how many times do I have to tell you,” Enzo said, “I’m never gonna do your homework. And it’s not fair to compare that to giving up a piece of bacon! I don't even like bacon all that much!”

“Dude!” Blaise gasped from next to Draco, “if you don’t like bacon you should have passed that down this way a long time ago.”

Pansy scoffed and shook her head. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“Hey,” you whined as you ate another piece of bacon, “I’m the least idiot of the bunch, right Pans?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, (Y/N/N).”

You grinned, about to rebuttal when the morning owl dropped an envelope in front of you.

“What’s this?” You questioned as you picked it up. 

“Uh, I think it’s quite obviously a letter, (Y/N/N).” Mattheo said as he stuffed his mouth full of bacon. “And, to think, you were trying to say you’re the least idiot of us.” He laughed.

“Oi,” Theo knocked his shoulder against Mattheo’s. “Leave her be. I’ve never seen her get a letter before, I’m curious.”

Draco shifted slightly in his seat. “Who’s it from, (Y/N/N)?”

“Nevermind who it’s from,” Blaise chuckled, “I wanna know what it says.”

“Why would you wanna know what it says and not know who it’s from?” Enzo asked, “That's like half the fun.”

You shrugged as you tore open the envelope. Opening the folds of the letter, your cheeks started to warm as you read what was inside. 

“What is it?” Pansy asked as she leaned closer, trying to catch a glimpse. 

“It says, uh,” you cleared your throat, a little bit flustered. “It says ‘people love to stare up at the stars, glimmering as they might in the night sky, yet everyone is too scared to enjoy the beauty that is the sun. you are my sun, and I would willingly go blind to catch even just a glimpse of you each day.’”

You friends all stared at you in shock. Draco, Blaise and Mattheo had their mouths hung open in shock. Enzo blushed a little bit, Theo had his eyebrows raised like he appreciated the words written on the page, and Pansy all but squealed as you read the letter. 

“Oh my god, I think I’m going to combust,” Pansy swooned. 

“Who’s it from?” Theo asked.

You shrugged, “I don’t know.” You flipped the letter to the back to see if it was signed at all. “It’s only signed with a heart.”

“That is so romantic!” Pansy squealed as she clasped her hands around your arm. “Our sweet (Y/N) has a secret admirer!”

“Wonder who it could be,” Draco said as he flicked his fingers in motion to hand him the letter. 

You complied, and passed the note to him. 

“I don’t know,” he said as he flipped it all around. “The handwriting sort of looks familiar.”

“Maybe it’s someone you know?” Theo suggested as he grabbed the letter from Draco’s hands. He took it upon himself to check it out a time or two before passing it to Mattheo’s eager grasp.

“I think it’s kind of funny,” Mattheo chuckled. “What if it’s some first year trying to make their move on you?”

You shuttered. “Merlin, I sure hope not. I honestly don’t think a first year would be able to write something so beautiful.”

“Yeah, no way,” Pansy shook her head. “Mattheo, you’re just jealous you weren’t the one who sent (Y/N) this letter. Maybe she’d give you a chance if you did something romantic, or just not annoying for once.”

“First,” Mattheo said, “ouch. Second, who says I’m not the one who wrote (Y/N) this love letter?”

“Mattheo, you wouldn’t know romance if it hit you with a ten foot pole.” Pansy said. 

“Hey!” Mattheo complained. “Someone tell her I’m romantic.”

“Hell no,” Draco scoffed. “You’re ‘bout as romantic as bloody boil, mate.” 

You laughed as Mattheo scrunched his face up. The bells chimed signaling the end of breakfast and the start of first class. 

“I’m not too worried about it,” you said as you stood and started packing your stuff up. “It’s just a little letter. No harm in it.”

“But you don’t want to know who sent it?” Pansy asked as she grabbed her belongings as well. 

You shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I’m not silly enough to expect something to come from this; it’s just a note. It could be a prank for all we know.” 

“No one who writes like that is doing it as a prank,” Theo remarked. 

“Well, still, whatever the reason may be, I’m not gonna go out looking for this person. No matter how sweet the words are.” You smiled, “I’m gonna head to class, bye guys.”

On your way to class, you couldn’t help but recite the words written in the letter. They had made your heart flutter, as stupid as that sounds. You slightly resented the way it made you feel as it was only a few measly words on paper, but the romantic part of you couldn’t help but want to know who was behind them. 

✰  ✰  ✰

In your last class of the day, you finally were able to see your good friend Luna Lovegood. You had been waiting all morning to have class with her so you can inform her of the letter you received that morning. 

“And it was just so poetic, Luna. No one has ever said anything like that about me before.”

She smiled at you as you mindlessly drew on your assignment. “I think it sounds quite lovely. Do you have any idea who it may be from?”

You shook your head. “No idea. I don’t even think I know anyone who writes, well, anything.” 

“What about that boy Enzo you always hang out with?” Luna suggested. “I’ve got him in my literature class, he’s very talented.”

You thought to yourself for a second. Could it be possible Enzo was your secret admirer? You’d been friends for so long, and he’d always be especially kind to you.

Well, he’s especially kind to everyone, now that you think about it. 

“I don’t know,” you honestly replied. “I guess I just never would have expected it to be one of my friends, let alone Enzo.”

“I wouldn’t rule out your group of friends,” Luna said with a smile, “it could really be any one of them.” 

“You think so?” 

“Well, maybe not all of them, but I think it could be a good place to start if you were wanting to figure out who it is.”

As you pondered over Luna’s words, Slughorn made it a point to reiterate there was no talking allowed during the assignment. 

You rolled your eyes and got back to work, waiting for this class to be over so you could finally figure out who wrote you the letter. 

✰  ✰  ✰

Back in the common room you saw Pansy, Draco, and Enzo sitting on the couches. 

“Hey, (Y/N/N)!” Pansy smiled as she scooted over and patted the spot next to her. “Find out anything new about your secret admirer?”

You smiled with a roll of your eyes as you sat with her. You kicked your shoes off and folded your legs under your body. “No, but I think I’ve got an idea brewing of how to find them.”

“Oh,” Draco smirked from the couch across from you. He folded his arms over his chest, “do tell, (Y/N), I’m very curious to see who it could be.” 

You shook your head, teasingly, “not a chance, Malfoy. I’m not giving up my secrets til I get to the bottom of this thing.” 

Draco raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, doll, if you wanna be secretive about your already secret admirer, I respect it.”

Enzo shifted in his seat a little uncomfortably. “It’s kind of strange though that they went out of their way to write something to you but kept it a secret. It just makes me a little apprehensive.”

“Oh, chill out, scaredy cat,” Pansy said. “(Y/N) will be fine, and if it’s someone weird at least she’s got us to look out for her.”

You grinned and wrapped your arms around Pansy’s neck. “Quit getting all sweet on me, Pans.”

She chuckled and playfully pushed you away. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not getting sweet, don’t get it twisted.”

You chuckled. “I think I’m gonna head up, got lots of scheming to get to,” you teased with a wiggle of your eyebrows. 

You stood up from the couch and Pansy stood with you. “Farewell, boys, it’s been awful as usual.” She said with a smirk. 

“Thank Salazar you’re leaving,” Draco said to her. “Your presence was such a nuisance.” 

Pansy snarled at him and dramatically turned away to head up the stairs. You and Enzo shared a short laugh before you followed her up the stairs to your shared bedroom. 

✰  ✰  ✰

The next morning, you were last to the dining hall for breakfast. 

“Finally, she makes it,” Mattheo called out before taking a swig of his orange juice. 

You huff and settle into your seat between Enzo and Pansy. “I know, I overslept something horrible this morning.”

Since you were so late, the kitchen staff had already stopped serving breakfast meaning you were going without this morning. 

Theo glanced at you from across the table and pushed his plate towards you. “Here,” he said, “take anything you want.”

You looked down at saw scrambled eggs, french toast, and sausage links on his plate. 

“Really?” You grinned as you grabbed a sausage link from his plate. 

Theo nodded, “yeah, can’t have you go without eating. Lord only knows what a monster you can be without food.” He teased with a small smirk. 

You crinkled your nose up at his and grabbed a piece of french toast as well. “I’m gonna let that slide since you were nice enough to give up your breakfast. Don’t make me regret my kindness.”

Theo chuckled and pulled his plate back to him, glancing up at you before delving back into his plate. 

Mattheo tried to reach his hand over to Theo’s plate but was met with a slap on the wrist. 

“Ow!” Mattheo said as he cradled his wrist in fake hurt. “Theo, how could you? I thought we had something special.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “You got more food on your plate then the rest of us combined. I think you’ll be alright.”

You chuckled, but a thought crept into your mind. “Hey, guys, uh, did the post come today?” You asked. 

Draco raised his eyebrow with a smirk. “Waiting for another letter, are we?”

Your face burned as you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. I kinda wanna get to the bottom of who it is.” 

“You’ll find ‘em, (Y/N/N),” Pansy said, “even if I have to interrogate everyone we know. We’ll get down to the bottom of it.” 

Just as she said that, the morning owl came swooping down towards you and dropped a small slip of paper in front of you. 

Draco smirked, “Looks like someone really wants your attention, (Y/N/N).”

You tried to hold back your smile as you unfolded the small post it note. 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read out to them, “'I love to see you smile, especially when you’re smiling at me.’ Aw, that’s kind of sweet, actually.”

“Don’t tell me you’re starting to get sweet for this mystery man,” Blaise interrupts. 

You shrug as you fold the note back up. “I don’t know, it is pretty sweet, no? And this must mean it’s someone I know personally because they said I smile at them.”

“Oh Godric,” Mattheo grinned, “you’ve fallen for a mystery man.”

“No I haven’t!” You protest. “I just think it’s sweet and now I know it’s someone I’m friends with and not some creepy first year.” 

“Wait,” Theo said, “how do you know it’s someone you’re friends with?”

“Because it says I smile at them,” you said obviously. “Who else do I smile at?”

“(Y/N), I hate to break it to you,” Pansy said as she placed a hand on your shoulder, “but you’re the most smiley slytherin I’ve ever met.”

You shrugged off her hand with a fake glare. “Hey! Give me some credit, I can be bad sometimes.”

Enzo chuckled, this is the first time he spoke all conversation. “You’re too sweet to be bad, (Y/N/N).”

You grinned and playfully bumped your shoulder against his. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just know it’s someone I know. I can feel it. It’s not some random person, it can’t be.” 

The bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast. You and your friends stood up to leave. You couldn’t help but think about the notes you received, pondering on who it could possibly be. 

✰  ✰  ✰

“Post is running late this morning,” Draco noted as the clock struck 8:26 with no sight of the morning owl. 

You were a tad disappointed. You had pondered all day yesterday about who it could be. You’ve narrowed it down quite a bit, and you think Luna may be on to something. While you don’t exactly think for sure that it’s Enzo, you do think you’ve narrowed it down to your group of close friends. 

You really just can’t see anyone else knowing you well enough to be this fascinated with you. The only one out of your friend group that you completely had ruled out is Blaise. 

Blaise was definitely out because out of the whole friend group, he was the least close with you. Frankly, you guys just don’t talk nearly as much as you talk to the rest of them. 

“Great,” Mattheo gruffed, “how will I be entertained this morning without (Y/N)‘s secret stalker and his confession of love.”

Okay, maybe Mattheo was out too. 

“Oi,” Theo piped up. “Don’t knock it too hard, (Y/N) seems to be enjoying herself with the letters.” 

You blushed a little as you shrugged. “I don’t want to seem weird by how invested I am in it, but I just think it’s sweet. No one’s ever really expressed this kind of feeling for me, so… you know,” you shrugged awkwardly, your face definitely beet red by now. 

“Well I for one am extremely invested in this,” Pansy said. “I’m lowkey jealous that I’m not the one with a secret admirer. What I wouldn’t give for someone to think of me that way.” 

“Maybe someday someone will like you, Pansy,” Enzo said reassuringly. 

“We might all be dead by the time that happens, but who knows, it might happen,” Mattheo said. 

Pansy gasped with a glare. “Wow what crawled up your ass this morning?”

Mattheo shrugged and focused his attention back to his breakfast plate. 

“Anyway,” Draco said, “I’m intrigued as well. I think I’ve got an idea who it could be, but I'm not quite positive.” 

You parked up at that. “Really? Who’s your guess?”

Draco smirked, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He teased. 

You glared at him, “Malfoy, if you know who it is you better spill.”

“I’m not saying I know who it is, I’m just saying I have a hunch at who it may be.”

“Oh!” Enzo exclaims as he points up in the air, “here comes the owl.”

You grin in anticipation as the owl drops a little note down in front of you. It was a larger note than yesterday, but this time it didn’t have something sweet written on it. 

It had a clue. 

“It just says ‘being your friend is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, though I’d be lying if I said i didn’t want to be more.’” You read. 

“So it is one of you!” Pansy shouted as she pointed her finger towards everyone at the table. 

Draco smirked, “that was my hunch. ‘Had a feeling it was one of these blokes.”

“And who says it’s not you, Malfoy?” Mattheo questioned with a raise of his brow. 

“Please,” Draco scoffed, “if I wanted to woo (Y/N) she’d be mine by now.” 

“Oh big talk from down that end,” Pansy rolled her eyes. 

“I could get anyone I want,” Draco puffed his chest. “I don’t need to be anonymous to do so.” 

“Hey, don’t hate on my letters, Draco.” You complained. “Least they got the balls to say something.” 

“Barely counts as having balls when they won’t even say who they are.” Mattheo countered. 

You huffed as your table fell into somewhat of a silence. Conversations picked up without you as your thoughts trailed off. 

Theo had been extremely quiet this entire time. While he was never the chatter bug, it was odd having gone almost the entire breakfast without hearing from him. 

As everyone else was engaged in conversation, you stared at the boy sitting across from you. His head was down as he played with his breakfast, pushing it around with his fork. 

You lightly kicked his leg under the table. 

Theo’s head perked up. His eyes stared into yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t remember what you wanted to say to the boy. 

His eyebrow raised in question as a small smirk glazed his lips. 

You blushed a little. “I-uh just wanted to see if you were alright. You didn’t really say too much the whole time we’ve been here.”

Theo shrugged as his smile dropped. “yeah, just don’t got too much input.” 

Your heart swelled. You really had turned each morning to revolve around you and your secret pen pal. 

“Sorry, Theo. I didn't mean to annoy you with all my talk of the letters.”

He shook his head. “You could never annoy me, doll.” 

Your heart beat like crazy. 

“Still, though, I feel bad about how much I’ve put into this. Let’s talk about something else.” You offered, “how’s class going?”

Theo chuckled and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Shit. I’m drowning in assignments and got two quizzes coming up that I’m just not ready for.” 

The bell rang. 

Theo groaned. “Got one next class. I think I might skip, though. Give myself some more time to prepare for it.”

As everyone started walking out of the dining hall, you grabbed Theo’s arm and pulled him back. 

His eyes widened slightly, but quickly reverted back to normal. 

“Maybe I‘ll skip with you,” you said, “if you’ll have me, that is. I can help you study. What class is it?”

Theo hesitated. “It’s, uh, herbology. ‘m not very good with plants and all that.”

You grinned, “I can help! I’m not too bad with flowers and plants.”

Theo nodded, “yeah, I could really use the help.”

“Okay, you wanna go to the library then?”

Theo shook his head. “I’ve got a good spot. Come on.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. 

You followed him all the way out to the courtyard towards the opposite end of the school. You walked until you reach a large bench with intricate designs on the backing and arm rests. 

Theo took a seat. “Figured this would be good as any. Least now we can look at some plants up close, eh?”

You chuckled and took a seat next to him. “Yeah, sounds great, Theo. You got your textbook?”

He nodded and dug through his bag to pull it out. Once he handed it to you, you started flipping through the pages to get to the important material. 

“I’ve got the herbology exam 4th period, so I can help you study and it’ll help me study too! Win, win.”

Theo grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “Sounds good, doll.”

Your cheeks blushed. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face. “I like when you call me doll.”

Your smile dropped. “Oh, geez, I did not mean to say that out loud.”

Theo’s face remained blank. That just made you more nervous. 

“Great, now I’ve weirded you out.” You exasperated. “I’m really sorry, Theo, I didn’t mean to-“

“I’m not weirded out, doll.” He cut you off. “Was just a little stunned is all. Didn’t expect you to say something like that.”

You thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than it already was, but somehow it did. 

“Well, still,” you mumbled as you looked down at the textbook again, “sorry.”

Theo sat for a minute, watching as you flipped through the book. Your eyebrows furrowed a little in aggravation. You were annoyed at yourself for how stupid you were being. It was Theo for Salazar sake. 

Though, you couldn’t help but admire the boy. He was gorgeous, for one, but he was also charming and witty. He was sweet and generous. You couldn’t deny you were attracted to him, but you had never thought he would see you in the same light. 

“(Y/N)?” Theo called. 

You looked up into his eyes. 

Theo stared at you, taking in each one of your features. Your eyes, your lips, your nose. You shifted a little, way too aware of his gaze on you. 

“Theo?” You called back. His gaze shifted back to your eyes. 

Before you could say anything, he softly spoke, “I’m the one sending you those letters, (Y/N/N).” 

You stared at him in shock. 

No way. 

“Y-you’re the one who wrote me the letters?” 

He slowly nodded his head. Theo’s lip was drawn in between his teeth. “Is, uh, are you disappointed?”

“What?” you exclaimed. 

He shrugged, “I mean, you just really seemed to like the letters, and I know you wanted to know who it was, so I just hope I haven’t disappointed you in the revelation.”

You shook your head. “Actually, it’s quite the opposite.”

Theo’s head shot up to look at you. “Really?”

You smiled and nodded. “Mhm, I like you Theo. I have for a while now, actually, I just thought you’d never give a chance.”

He laughed. “You thought I’d never give you a chance? I thought you’d never give me a chance.”

You laughed loudly together. When it finally subsided to quiet chuckles, you said,  “I really like you, Theo.”

Theo’s smile grew. In a quick moment, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. 

You gasped against his lips, and wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back. His textbook fell off your lap as he pulled you closer by the waist. 

You kissed him until you couldn’t kiss anymore. Finally pulling back, Theo’s grin was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, even with his lips a little puffy from your kiss. 

“I really like you, Theodore.”

He grinned, “I really like you, more (Y/N).”

[sunshine-on-marz]

Lost and found

Spencer Reid x Reader

In which Spencer almost loses the love of his life, literally and figuratively

TW: angst with a happy ending, criminal minds level depiction of violence, mentions of death, it takes a little to get to the actual plot but trust me it’s worth it, (tell me if i missed any)

Word count: 3.3K

To know Spencer Reid was to be absolutely enthralled by him. You were both 16 when you met, granted you were 16 in your junior year of highschool and he was 16 working on his 2nd PHD, but you were both 16 nonetheless.

It had taken some convincing to get a place in his life, not because he didn’t like you or your company, more because he was waiting for your ulterior motive to show itself, or for your patience to wear thin. It never did.

You knew vaguely about his mother, mostly through a news article you found from a few years back, talking about the prodigy like he was more of circus attraction then a 12 year old. It had mentioned that he also took care of his sick mother, and with his hyperfixation on finding a cure to schizophrenia, you’d connected the dots.

But you still didn’t want to assume.

“Hey Spence, why’re you so set on finding a cure?” You ask, gesturing to the 8th book on schizophrenia you’d seen him read in the 3 months you’ve known him.

“My mother” he says, closing the book and placing it infront of him. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I’m curious about what goes on in the mind of Spencer Reid” you smile “though, I’m sure you could tell me exactly what’s happening up there, down to the chemicals”, he laughs at that

“I could give you an idea” he says, you hover your hands over the book, he nods, you open it to the last page.

“508 pages, how long would that take you to read?” You ask

“A little under 10 minutes, if I had to guess, I don’t know how many words are on each page” he says

“Well I’m not counting so I guess we’re gonna have to stick with an estimate” you joke, he smiles again.

You sit in silence for a minute, just looking at each other, and the book. There’s a light tension, unasked questions float between you.

“Can I be invasive?” You ask, Spencer nods

“You usually don’t ask first” he smiles

“You suck” you reach to hit his arm, you don’t. “I won’t hit you before asking about your sick mother, actually”

“I appreciate that” he laughs “but what do you want to know?”

“What’s her name?” You ask, he seems a little shocked.

“Diana.”

“And you take care of her?” You already know the answer, but he’d never said it explicitly.

“Yea” he nods, he looks at you like he knows what you’ll ask next

“Well, tell me if there’s ever anything I can do to help. Her or you, I can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to do alone, props to you spence” you smile, and if someone saw his face right now, they’d assume you asked him- well not many questions would dumbfound Spencer Reid but that’s not the point.

“You’re not gonna ask if I hate it? Or if I want to put her in a home?” He asks, sounding more confused than you’d ever seen him

“Do you want me to ask that?” You counter.

“No.. not really” he looks at his hands, which are rubbing together. A nervous habit of his you’d picked up on rather quickly.

“Well then I won’t ask it” you smile, so does he.

It’s a week later when he tells you why he’d been so shocked that day.

You were on his front porch, about to meet his mother for the first time. He said she’d been having a good day, and though you weren’t exactly sure what that entailed, he said it with enough excitement that you decided to just ask later.

“When you first asked about my mom, you asked what her name was” he says, you nod.

“Thats usually my starting point, yea” you laugh softly “why, was that the wrong thing to ask?”

“No- no no no. It was the perfect thing to ask! I just- you were the first person to ask what her name was before you asked about what’s wrong with her” he says, and he looks sad, so you offer a hand. You know he’ll say no, but you don’t miss how he smiles everytime you offer.

“Wanna tell me about her? I never know what I’m walking into meeting my friends parents, I would’ve brought her flowers but I didn’t know what kind she liked” you say, and his smile goes from soft to wide and bright.

He is ineffably beautiful.

“She likes lilies” he smiles “and she’s really nice, when she’s, yknow” you just nod. And then he holds out his hand, you take it. And that’s the first time you ever touched Spencer Reid.

You met his mother that night, it was uneventful, but it was nice.

That’s a lot of your friendship with Spencer. Uneventful, but nice. More than nice, it’s wonderful. He’s wonderful. You’re there when he gets his first PHD at 17, your there when he has to put his mother into assisted living, you’re there when he gets the letter saying he’s been invited to the FBI academy, you even drive him to go meet Agent Gideon.

You see him off at the airport when he goes to Quanico.

And that’s the last time you see your best friend.

After a while weekly phone calls became monthly, and monthly became and occasional text on birthdays and holidays and informing the other of big achievements, but by his 3rd year as an agent, friendships were hard to maintain.

You’d accepted never seeing your friend again.

Spencer hoped he’d never see you again, because he knew he didn’t have the guts to reach out, and he knew that the only time his teammates seemed to see old friends was when they were a part of a case.

But he also knew you.

And he recognized your necklace the second he saw the pictures Penelope had on the screen.

“The second and third victims haven’t been found, but they’re believed dead” JJ says, Spencer barely hears it.

“I need air” is all he manages to say as he rushes out of the room. Derek went after him and caught him as he collapsed.

“Hey man, what’s goin on?” Derek asked him, holding onto Spencer’s shaking shoulders as he tries to stay upright.

“I can’t- she can’t- she can’t be dead” his words were barely audible and even less coherent.

“Do you know one of the victims?” Derek asked, and Spencer nodded.

He more than knew you, he’d held you while you cried, he’d slept in your bed the night his mom went into care, you were the only person there for him at his graduations, he’d helped you decorate your first apartment. You were so much more than someone he knew. And you were so much more than victim number 3.

“Spencer? Hello?” Derek’s hand waved infront of Spencer’s face as he zoned back into reality.

“Sorry” I he muttered as he started to stand up. He and Derek walked back into the briefing room, he doesn’t apologize for his outburst, he just sits and waits for Penelope and JJ to continue. They do.

“Well, 3 girls went missing in New York City within a span of a week. The reason we’re on this case is because they all worked for the same law firm”

Spencer takes a shuttering breath.

“The first victim, whose body was found dumped in a dumpster by a homeless man, was 56 year old Mrs. Shelly Kailee, a lawyer at Shelly and Dylan law firm, she was a co-owner along with her Husband Dylan. The two other victims, who are still currently missing, are Darleen Calvin, and Y/N L/N. Darleen is 28 and a practicing attorney at the same law firm, she’s only been practicing there for a few months after graduation from University of New York in January. Y/N is 25 and is working as a receptionist at the law firm while working on her law degree at Cornell. Both girls are reportedly very sociable and very kind, but from what we’ve been told, Y/N seemed to be more acquainted with everyone while Darleen seemed to just have a large group of friends. That’s the only information we have on them” JJ says. It seems everyone’s eyes drifted to Spencer, but his were dead set on your face on the projector. Smiling. You had the same smile. You were still wearing the same necklace you wore every day since he gave it to you at 18 when you graduated. You were still as beautiful as he remembered.

“She wouldn’t let anyone take her to a second location, not without a fight. We’re probably looking at a fairly athletic man, unless we find out that she sent someone her location. Then it’s probably someone charismatic, charming, played himself as a friend” he says, and everyone nods.

“You think she’d fall for that?” Morgan asks, he gets a few glares. But Spencer nods. “I think I saw her have a conversation with a homeless man once because she thought he might be lonely.” He says “so yes”. Hotch clears his throat “Spencer is there any possibility she’s.. changed since you knew her?”. Spencer shakes his head “we only really fell completely out of touch a few months back, she seemed pretty much the same the last time I called her, which was probably 6 months ago”

You could’ve cut the tension with a knife.

“Spencer I’m sorry-“ Emily says, he cuts her off.

“You can be sorry if we find a body” he says. And they get the message.

“Wheels up in 10” Hotch says.

Spencer works that case like a dog. There’s not a moment where he isn’t doing something to find you. Something to make sure you’re okay.

A few times, Derek had to pull him out of the police precinct, just so he’d get a couple hours of sleep.

He was beside himself.

Then the tapes showed up.

On the front steps of the police station, there was a box, with 4 tapes, each labeled with a date of the days you’d been missing, the most recent being from the day before.

The first started with a voice they later confirmed to be Shelly’s. A final message to her husband and kids. Tearful messages to each one about how much she loved them. And then a gunshot.

The second tape was worse. It was of you and Darleen. Spencer recognized your voice immediately, he could tell you were holding back tears. Darleen on the other hand was sobbing. You were both pleading for you life. You were a bit more composed, and he quickly recognized some of what you were saying as examples he’d said to you when talking about what usually does and doesn’t work on killers.

He never intended you to have to put those lessons to use.

And the selfish part of him wonders if you thought of him when you spoke.

The 3rd tape is the shortest. It’s just a gunshot and a scream. Your scream. He, for the first time in his life, sincerely hopes that you watched someone get killed.

The final tape is just you.

And it breaks him.

There’s a few seconds of silence before your voice starts.

“This is a message for Spencer Reid, and the rest of the FBI. My name is Y/N, and if you’re listening to this. I am dead.”

And his face falls.

“Spence, meeting you in highschool was the greatest thing I’ve ever done. And I love you, I love you so much Spencer. And I hope-“ the tape ends.

Spencer listens to that tape another dozen times.

The cops find Darleen’s body before lunch.

He doesn’t have it in him to care.

He listens to the tape again. And then it hits him.

You had never once said you met Spencer in highschool. You always, always made it a point to say that you were in highschool, but he wasn’t.

And it was currently summer, and the highschool was empty.

“Guys I know where she is-“

Hotch cut him off with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Spencer she’s dead” he said, his voice wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t gentle either. Spencer could’ve punched him.

“They’re at the highschool. Trust me” his voice was shaking, not with doubt, but with fear. Fear that both he and Hotch were right, and that in a couple hours he’d see you again under the worst possible circumstances.

But they went anyway.

He was zoned out most of the car ride, ignoring Derek’s questions of if he’s sure he can handle this.

For Spencer, it doesn’t matter if he thinks he can, because he has too.

He’s a few feet past the doorway when it really sinks in that he might leave the building again with your lifeless body in his arms. He pushes the thought aside. It felt like betrayal not to try and have hope, because for Spencer, you were hope incarnate. It would feel disrespectful to take that from you without asking first.

He heard it before anyone else did.

He all but ripped the door open, the local PD turning on their heels at his aggressive movements.

But there you were, in a chair, sobbing into your binds. He was infront of you in seconds, shouting for someone to cut the ropes holding your wrists and ankles as he removed the cloth from your mouth.

“You’re okay, you’re alright now, I’ve got you” his hands gently holding your cheeks as you leaned forward into his chest, your arms wrapping around his torso once they were cut free.

“I knew you’d come- I knew it. I told him but he said you wouldnt find me so- so in the tape- oh my god did he send you the tapes?” He cut off your manic rambling with soft shushing

“I know you knew, you always know, and yes we got the tapes. You did good, you did everything perfect. I understood.” He assured you, running his hands through your hair.

Emily came up to you and Spencer, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“Does she know where he is?” She asks.

He starts to speak, but you do it first. “Maybe the janitors closet? Or the bathroom? He- he made us scrub the floors, he was like- he was psychotic about it” you say, she nods and leaves the room, Spencer just tucks your head back under his chin.

“You’re doing so well” he whispers

“Spencer I want to leave” you cry

“Alright, alright. Let’s get you out of here” he says, slipping his arm under your knees and lifting you. You probably could’ve walked, but no one was shocked that he chose to carry you out.

He asked the EMTs more questions than your frazzled mind could even think of.

“Dr.Reid, she’s going to be fine. It’s cuts and bruises and maybe a few pulled muscles, she will be fine once she gets some fluids and a good meal in her system. “

He still didn’t believe it.

He didn’t believe it when the nurses told him the same thing, he didn’t believe it on the car ride back to the precinct after you were discharged, and he didn’t believe it when you sat next to him during your cognitive interview.

He’d fought Hotch about giving you one, but Hotch said that having a solid story will help make sure the man who did this is kept in prison for as long as possible, and you’d volunteered.

“You really dont have to” he says, you shake your head

“Spence i can handle it” you say

“Im not leaving your side.” He insists, you laugh a bit, which all but calms him down.

“I didnt think you would.” You offer your hand, and for the first time he accepts the invitation.

The interview makes you cry, which could’ve been predicted, but it still breaks Spencer’s heart.

After that he sets a semi-permanent ban on anyone asking you about what happened.

JJ brings you a change of clothes and you thank her profusely as she walks you to the bathroom and helps you wash your face and body as best as you can with wet paper towels.

Spencer anxiously waits outside.

“She’s with JJ, man. You can go outside and take a breather if you need” Derek offers.

“I’ll go outside and take a breather with Y/N when they’re done. Im sure this isnt where she wants to be right now.” Spencer says, Derek sighs.

“Spence, that girl might be one of the most well adjusted victims we’ve ever seen, she’ll be okay if you step away for 5 minutes-“ Spencer cuts him off

“I wont” he says “do you not get that? She’s well adjusted, Im not. I am not well adjusted to almost losing her and im not well adjusted to having her back so Derek would you please stop suggesting that I need space from her because space from her is the last thing I need right now” they stand in silence for a minute until you leave the bathroom.

“Spence? Everything okay?” JJ asks as she walks out of the bathroom after you, you quickly finding your place leaning against Spencer’s side.

“Yea we’re good” Derek answers for him, placing a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder, and leaving with a small nod of understanding.

Spencer guides you outside.

He sits next to you on the bench outside the precinct, your head on his shoulder and his arm around you.

“Im really glad you picked up on that” you say

“Picked up on what?” He asks, his hand moving from next to you on the bench to your lap, resting on top of your own.

“The highschool thing, i honestly didnt know if he’d even send the tapes, kinnda figured he was making them for himself” you say, interlacing your fingers with his “but I figured it was worth a shot”

“It was smart” he says, squeezing your hand “took me awhile to realize”

“Did it?” You ask “and here i was thinking you were a genius. Spencer when have i ever skipped a chance to brag about you?” You smile at him, he shrugs.

“I was under a little stress” he says, pulling you closer.

“I know, im sorry I scared you”

“Dont apologize, this is not your fault. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.” You just nod.

There’s silence for a while, it could’ve been hours, neither of you would’ve noticed, or minded.

“Do you want to move in with me?” He says it before he even realized he thought it, immediately looking just as shocked as you. “I am so sorry- i just- well i figured-“

“Spencer” you grab his hand. “We’ll talk about it” you say, and that seems to be the right answer as he wraps you into a hug.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay” he whispers, you nod.

“It doesn’t require moving in for us to stay in contact” you say

“But you’re so far” you just nod in response. “I dont want to lose you again” he whispers

“Spence you didnt lose me, im alright-” he stops you

“Thats not what i meant. Not entirely” he clarifies, you sigh and pull him into another long hug.

“My lease ends next month” you hum

“See you in Virginia next month?” He asks, you smile

“We’ll talk about it”

There’s never a conversation about if you’ll move in. Spencer just Venmo’s you (he got Garcia to teach him how) 300 bucks along with “plane ticket or take out dinner for a week” which makes you laugh, and it also makes you call him to ask approximately how much of your stuff would fit in his apartment, he says he’ll make as much space as you need.

A month later you show up to one of Rossi’s dinner parties hand in hand with Spencer, JJ hands Derek 20 bucks, and slowly, everything falls back into place.

(PS: Spencer makes sure you have everything you need to finish school online because he’ll be damned if you gave up your dreams for a man, even if he himself is that man.)

Remember to reblog with feedback!! Reblogs make the world go round and feedback helps artists keep creating!

This might be the longest fic ive ever written. This took 2 days and a few tears but finally it’s done. Im tagging the pookies bc Ykw i worked too hard not too @the-phantom-author @thesockbehindthewashingmachine @mariasont @st4rgzer @canonically-a-genloser

[lushrue]

hockeyteam!141 x figureskater!reader pt 2!

part 2 of this au finally! i'm so glad people like it! comment if you wanna be added to the taglist, already planning pt 3 so there will be more where this came from 💗

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

your name was announced through the loudspeaker as you skated onto the ice, all covered in sequins and polyester. you’d always thought it was a little bit silly, the conventions around figure skating costumes. that fit that Margot Robbie threw in I, Tonya about the ridiculousness of it? yeah, you’d had a moment like that once or twice. the rough fabric scratched your arms, the glint of the sequins drew focus away from your expressions. but you still felt elegant as you set your mark at center ice, hitting your starting pose in the silence before the music began.

breathe in, breathe out. focus. momentum is everything, remember your character, focus going into your jumps.

in the moment before your routine started, you flicked your eyes up and scanned the crowd. it was something that you’d done ever since your first routine that you took to competition. usually, you were looking for your parents, their smiling faces and the flash of your mom’s digital camera. now, though, it became more curiosity, finding a spot to let your eyes settle when you weren’t looking at the judges’ table. it was then that you saw them. four big, brutish hockey players sat shoulder to shoulder in the stands. the one with the mohawk (soap, you remembered) lifted his hand to wave at you, only for the man beside him (kyle, you guessed from this distance) to swat it down.

the shock must have played out on your face, because you saw price smirk as your music began playing. you let the sound seep into your bones and just like that, it all melted away and you skated.

…

the four of them watched pretty intently for the first few seconds of your routine. price was focused on the placement of your body, how you kept your center of gravity in the middle at all times. he had to admire how precise you were in your movements, like you knew the physics behind all of it. for all he knew, you did. he could tell you were skilled and he liked that about you. talent recognizes talent, or however the saying goes.

kyle was simply admiring your choice of music. Moonlight Sonata, though basic, was like black coffee, he thought. a classic choice that never really got old, but so many things could be added to it to make it new and exciting. and watching you skate to it, he felt like he’d never heard it before. he watched your face more than anything else. you were so expressive, a story playing out in your eyes, and he soaked it all up. it was like reading a novel, and this one was a page-turner.

ghost was watching the lines of your body. it was like you were painting the air as you moved, each flick of the wrist and lift of the leg deliberate and purposeful. it all served to make a pretty picture. every now and again, he’d look at the thin lines your skates left on the ice, the swirls and curves detailing everywhere you’d been. much prettier than the harsh notches he left behind when he stepped out of the rink, he thought. just like you, they were delicate.

soap was far less interested in the artistry or skill of it and more focused on you. the way your hair moved as you spun on the ice, the way your costume clung to your skin. he couldn’t even act as if he wasn’t watching disrespectfully, thinking of what your body might look like under the spandex and sparkles. you lifted your leg and began spinning, and soap thought he might keel over right then and there. ghost nudged him as he adjusted himself on the bench, a silent gesture that told him to behave.

johnny gestured to price behind kyle’s back, getting his attention. “didn’t i tell ya, cap? a right beaut, that one,” he said, earning himself a flick to the head from ghost. price chuckled, turning his attention back to where you were winding up for a jump. two turns in the air and you landed perfectly. he knew you would, you talented thing. “yeah. a beaut,” price responded, a small smile curving his lips.

...

you skated remarkably, in your opinion. it was a relatively simple routine, but with every completed skate, regardless of skill level, came a sense of accomplishment. as you hit your ending pose, you made eye contact with your hockey players in the stands again. ghost’s face was unreadable from this distance, but you caught the pleased expressions of the other three as they clapped for you. soap had a glint in his eyes that spelled mischief and made something in your stomach tighten. kyle was looking at you like the artist you perceived yourself to be, almost how you imagined someone would look at their favorite painting. and price’s face had pride written all over it. you caught an almost imperceptible nod from him, as if to say well done.

you bowed to both sides of the rink and skated off the ice, a performer’s smile on your lips. it wasn’t entirely fake, not like it had been at some competitions. this time, it was born of the idea that four of the men you’d been watching, nay, pining after for a month were finally turning their attentions to you. for the first time in a while, you wondered what someone besides the judges thought of your routine. the worst part was, you needed them to like it. you felt the intense need to please them, keep them coming back for more.

the four of them found you in line for the concessions, grabbing a hot chocolate to soothe your cold bones in between programs. your free skate was coming up next and you knew you’d need a little pick-me-up before then. as you thanked the high schooler who’d poured your drink, you turned to walk away and almost collided with a wall of solid muscle. price, you’d realize as you looked up. “told ya we wanted to see ya, bonnie!” soap’s voice chirped from behind the broad shoulders of the team captain.

you glanced around him, noticing kyle and ghost stood off to the side. kyle was all polite smiles and ghost looked as though he was aware of how much space he was taking up, supremely uncomfortable as people brushed past him. soap was stood off to the other side of price, arms crossed over his chest. then your eyes turned up to the captain himself, feeling a sense of pride radiating off of him. you weren’t sure why; this was a man who barely knew you. but it made your stomach flutter all the same. “good performance you put on out there, love,” he said, the rumble of his baritone voice more compelling when it was directed at you. you’d seen the boys scramble to follow his orders before during a game, but you’d thought it was just his rank on the team. no, you realized, it was definitely the voice.

“thank you,” you replied sheepishly, clutching the warm styrofoam cup in your icy fingers. “i’m glad you all liked it.” kyle spoke up, stepping a bit closer to where you stood. “liked it? i loved it! you’ll have to tell me more about how you choreographed it, the musicality was insane!” “easy, garrick,” ghost’s voice rumbled from where he stood, a bit muffled by the black surgical mask. “don’t wan’ to scare off our pretty bird.” oh, you could get used to that. you spoke up, your eyes flicking between the four of them. “actually, i still have another program to skate.” you hesitated, almost worried you were being too forward. but then you continued. why not live a little, take some risks? “if you all wanted to stay, that is.”

you didn’t have to tell them twice.

taglist: @cadotoast

[ilydeku]

teacher izuku...save me...i need more teacher izuku....

I WANNA BE SAVEDD

detention with teacher izuku

Detention serves as a form of a discipline, to ensure an unruly student would own up to their misdemeanors in a supervised setting. So why were you just sitting there smiling to yourself in earnest?

Well, quite frankly, it didn't feel like it in the first place.

Filling the empty air was the clock that ticked so painfully slowly and the subtle scribbles of a pen from the teacher's desk. But not just any teacher. You steal a quick glance at Mr. Midoriya from behind your arm in wonder of his occupacy, one of the many in succession. Was he looking at you? Working on anything? He was concentrated on something, probably grading, and his expression showed. His focus, the way his eyes trailed, narrowing at minor mistakes and the occasional grin when a paper read reasonably. Ugh, he just looked so good.

The missing assignments splayed out on your desk remained neglected, barely signed by your name and date in effortless strokes. Guess taking time to focus on your own happiness comes with a price. You sigh, propping your arm up on the desk and resting your cheek on your palm. Despite your best efforts to focus on the present moment, your gaze inevitably drifted toward Mr. Midoriya once again.

Within minutes, the classroom began to melt, with him remaining at the focal point. The stark lines of desks, the muted colors of the walls, and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights all seemed to fade into the background. Mr. Midoriya stood out with a clarity that was both mesmerizing and disorienting. There was no doubting it, Mr. Midoriya was one hell of an attractive teacher, in all ways possible you might add. There was just nothing bad any student could say about him. He has everything. He embodied a blend of qualities that made him stand out perfectly: his sweet, engaging personality, the genuine bonds he formed with his students, and his dual legacy as a hero, both past and present.

The blurriness fades away and you're met with the piercing emerald gaze of Mr. Midoriya himself, his eyes vibrant and full. In panic, you quickly avert your eyes in embarrassment, your heart racing.

"Y/n," he directs, his gaze unwavering. After tons of X marks and overly excessive side notes that practically ran off the pages, the pen finally came to a rest as he filed his last graded paper and cleared his desk. "Have you finished any of your missing assignments?"

"Uh- no sir..." you mumble, staring at them with guilt.

"...Over the past 30 minutes, I've just finished grading all 20 of your class's assessments, y/n. Am I keeping you here for nothing?" He inquired sternly, but not so much of hard criticism. Even then he remained as patient and pleasant as he could be. In his voice lay genuine concern behind his words, a silent affirmation that he cared deeply about your progress and well-being. In a way, it stirred your heart into ache at the thought of disappointing him and that's exactly what you were doing. The knowledge that you were falling short of his expectations was crushing, but it also underscored how much you valued his opinion and how keenly you desired to meet his standards.

The silence that followed was thick with the weight of shame. Seconds ticked by slowly, and the distant chime of the hour alarm set on his phone seemed faint and irrelevant. Mr. Midoriya remained resolutely in his chair, his gaze fixed on a spot somewhere between you and the floor, thinking. Instead of eagerly releasing you from detention so he could go home, he decided uphold his role as a teacher and take matters into his own hands.

Mr. Midoriya rose promptly from his chair, with almost deliberate grace. He approached your desk with a quiet resolve, his footsteps clicking against the hardwood floor.

"You know, the grading period for this semester's almost over, I won't even be able to accept these anymore soon..." He stands over you, his figure casting a long shadow across your cluttered desk as he reads through the titles of the assignments. They were WAY overdue, some by MONTHS. Your head hangs low over your desk miserably. Your lack of input concerned him, and he takes a deep breath, his concern evident as he searches for a way to offer genuine support.

"Tell me, what's going on, y/n? Really," Mr. Midoriya asks, his voice low and gentle. He doesn’t stand over you in a domineering manner but instead squats down beside your desk, aligning himself with your level. His posture is open and inviting as he gazes up at you with empathy, his emerald eyes soft and attentive beneath his dark hair.

"..."

"I won't understand unless you talk to me, dear."

DEAR!??///// Your mind screamed in fluster. There was really nothing meant behind it besides a comforting invite, but still!! It made your heart flutter!!

You take a shaky breath, trying to organize your scattered thoughts. "I guess I...I can't focus," you answer hesitantly, your eyes trailing down every detail on his face. The faint, almost imperceptible scar on his cheek adds a rugged charm to his otherwise gentle features. He looked even better up close.

"You can't focus? Why not?" He questioned with a slight tilt of his head as if the answer was somehow written on your face. With the way your face flushed, it practically was.

"..." His gaze was intense, yet so tender. It felt like he could see inside of you and those thoughts of yours that unapologetically swam around him. Maybe he did and you'd never know. You find yourself caught between the comfort he offers and the dizzying effect he has on you.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, he went ahead.

"It's okay," he says softly. "You don't have to tell me..." Mr. Midoriya stood up and glanced at the clock on the wall for a moment and exhaled, deciding his next course of action. He reaches his hands to shuffle all the papers on your desk and sort them into a neat, thick stack.

He sighs. "...I don't usually do this but, tell you what. If you can complete all of these and turn them in to me before class in 2 days, I'll give you full credit," he announces, carrying a hint of encouragement. He smiles warmly as your face lights up in shock and simply nods in confirmation as if telling you 'yes, I'm completely serious'.

"Oh, thank you sir, but...I don't think I can-"

"Of course, you can! You won't get anything done with a doubting outlook like that, dear. Have a little more faith in yourself!" His hand presses against your shoulder softly with a gentle caress and you nod in bashful silence.

AKJSUGDDFYAVDHJAS

"Alright, you're dismissed y/n. Enjoy the rest of your day, but please use your time wisely, okay? I don't wanna see my student in detention!"

Mr. Midoriya truly is a wonderful teacher (and an attractive man).

[tesscourtes]

saw you had asks open, not a drawing request but wanted to know if there was any more story to your human bill’s punishment-for-weirdmageddon-is-to-turn-weak-human au, I really like it (sorry if you explained this a while back, I only just watched gravity falls😭I’m a late-comer to the fandom)

it’s just superepiccool to me, how are dipper and mabel about him being human now? Soos n Wendy, Stan and Ford? What was it like for them (especially Ford) when he just turned human? What was it like for Bill?

oh hey don't worry, I haven't really talked much about the details of the AU like ... ever. I just started reviving it because I got my partner into the show (they are also a new fan! yay, new fans! Funny enough I had no idea TBOB was coming out so the timing was mad exquisite.) and they have just been an amazing help shaping my messy thoughts and coming up with new, fun plots! It's also nice to know there's someone out there interested in it, so thank's for asking! Now that I read TBOB I want to change the premise a bit, but the core is still the same.

Let me tell you this AU is silly. I'm aware Billford is toxic and there are many corners to dive into to picture their messy relationship. But I kinda wanna keep the spirit of the show here and make it equally as fun as it is disturbing. Given that Bill canonically is trapped in endless Therapy gives me even more food to work with, he just out there being toxic and people repeatedly telling him to cut it out.

I'm not gonna go into too much detail because I'm actually working on the first comic chapter for this AU, but regarding the characters: Each of the Pines, as well as Wendy and Soos, are not happy seeing him, but individually grow more accustomed to him and with him. I guess going from "most accepting" to "least accepting", Mabel took it the best. I wouldn't say she was quick to forgive, but quick enough to give the guy a chance. And I honestly have to say that, although this is 100% a Billford AU, there's so many plot ideas for just Mabel and Bill and their amazing, chaotic shenanigans. Put these two together and the stories basically write themselves. Wendy is pretty similar, and the most chill in actually helping Bill figure out human stuff.

Naturally, Ford took it the hardest. I'm aiming for slowburn here, haha. They got to figure out some stuff that I'm so ready to put onto pages... Ford is a lot of emotions. Confused, angered, curious... Meanwhile Stan is Bills biggest hater. (There is a lot of bullying in this AU) He just keeps up with it because his Family makes him. He's very protective and tries to kick Bill out several times. Soos sticks with Stan, but he's also Soos and has a big heart, so in Bills eye, he's very gullible and a target he can mess with easily.

Dipper is not a fan either, he has a hard time adjusting to the triangle just getting to ... be there. He's suspicious for the most part and Bill has to try hard to get on his good side. But honestly he might be more upset with Mabel (and later on Wendy) for making friends with Bill so easily, even though he knows that's just their nature. I just recently started thinking about Gideon and how I'd like to include him, but nothing worth mentioning so far yet.

With Bill himself, one my favorite parts trying to portray so far is how he's dealing with his new mortality. He adjusts to the body fine, he knows how to navigate flesh, but he has a hard time accepting that it's his body. His new prison, essentially. If it's gone, he's gone. If he treat's it like shit, he feels like shit. Then we add the psychological aspect of things. And more importantly, we add Ford to the equation. When I tell you, that demon is experiencing psychological damage here, and it's fully his fault. TBOB really pointed out to me that I need to dive into his obsession with Ford. How do you even get a man you fumbled so bad, to even acknowledge you again?

I love yapping about this AU, thanks again for giving me the grounds to do so anon! I'm an insecure writer so it'll probably take another hot minute to choose which script feels best to draw out, haha. But I'm glad you seem to be up for the ride!!

[yutaholic]

smells like teen spirit (M)

PAIRING: Jeno (NCT) + reader (female)

SUMMARY: Jeno keeps getting on your last nerve, but you still end up in his arms with your tongue down his throat.

WARNINGS: strong language; some drug use; explicit sexual content

NOTES: 8.6k words; this is part two of a rose and her thorns, but can be read as a standalone one-shot

Chicago, 1991

A tale as old as time. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll.

That was our life that summer. Some of us in different doses than the others.

You sat on the bed with your legs bent, resting the notebook against your thighs as you scribbled out another page of the band’s escapades.

Though there was a connection with Mark, we agreed to keep things simple for the rest of the summer. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with the band. God forbid we earned a reputation like Fleetwood Mac’s.

Unfortunately, this agreement caused some awkwardness and I handled that the way I always did - with distance. If Mark couldn’t help but complicate things, then I would do him a favor and give both of us the space we needed.

It felt like shit, but I was used to being the villain.

Turning the page, you kept writing in the eerie quiet of the van. Haechan was bouncing his leg up-and-down at a mile a minute, thoroughly annoyed by Jeno’s delay. Mark was dozing in his seat, trying not to fantasize about you and the fucking heaven between your thighs, but he couldn’t help but watch you jotting down your feelings, your grievances, your hopes and your dreams.

He prayed that he was part of the latter.

The silence broke when the van door opened loudly, followed by a disheveled Jeno stumbling inside. “Goddamn, I am getting so much pussy on this trip,” he huffed, running a hand through his overgrown and severely damaged blond hair.

“Jeno, I swear to god,” you barked, scratching out the compliment you had given him at the top of the page. “If you give me an STD this summer, I will set your drums on fire.”

“You would destroy my child?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Jeno grumbled something under his breath about how you always rained on his parade of pussy and shut the doors. “Let’s get on the road,” he said irritably, shooing Haechan out of the driver’s seat and jerking the van in gear.

“We’ve been waiting for you, dumbass,” Haechan sniped. He’d been getting so annoyed and impatient he threatened to leave the bastard drummer behind and never look back. That bitch can walk, he’d declared moments before.

Mark stayed quiet in the passenger seat, sluggish with sleep. He looked to you again, watching you write in your journal and wondering what you were saying about him.

About all of them.

Jeno drove fast, but not a soul complained. The gig in Chicago was the most highly-anticipated of the trip.

The van hurtled down the highway, not stopping for several hours until you begged for a bathroom. After a quick gas station run, you put some fresh snacks into the cabinet and wrangled your hair into a bun on your head.

Jeno came in with a bag in hand and said, “I bought more condoms.”

“Good for you,” you deadpanned, wrinkling your nose.

“Although I heard Mark didn’t have to wear one,” Jeno added, tsking his tongue. “One of the few perks of being innocent and pure, I guess.”

Your voice was razor sharp. “Careful, Jeno.”

Both pleased and annoyed by your tone, Jeno asked roughly, “Did you at least remember to get your birth control?”

You wanted to shoot daggers into his face with your eyes, but refusing to afford him any looks was better. “Yeah. I got my Depo shot two days before we left.”

“How long does it last?”

“Three months.”

Jeno smiled wryly. “Well, isn’t that convenient.”

“That’s the whole point,” you mumbled. He was trying to get a reaction out of you, prodding at your buttons, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

There was a pause. “I’m ready when you are,” Jeno flirted, wiggling his brows at you.

“Who said I even wanna screw you?”

“You did. Many, many times.”

True, but no longer relevant. All things considered. You returned to your notebook and said, “That was before you became a penis petri dish of death and disease.”

“Ouch.”

My relationship with Jeno could best be described as rivalry. He never gave an inch and neither did I. It was my job to keep him humble.

And damn, what a full-time thankless job that was.

Jeno had been going out of his way to rile you up after your night with Mark. He couldn’t stand seeing you sulky. Mark’s pouting was beyond remedy, but yours could be managed with well-placed jabs.

He had you down to a science. Lighting a fire under your ass was all Jeno knew how to do. The more he prodded at you, the more flames escaped. And when you were angry, you couldn’t be sad.

Because there was nothing Jeno hated more than seeing you cry.

“Can you try to stay on beat this time?” Jeno chided, spinning a drumstick nimbly between his fingers.

Having been testing the microphone, you whipped around and snapped, “Fuck you, Jeno.”

An argument swiftly ensued, petty and heated. No surprises there. Mark and Haechan stood with their guitars and watched the back and forth with no end in sight, even as people poured into the club.

“Those two are going to kill each other,” Mark said under his breath.

Haechan scoffed. “Or make a ton of babies.”

Mark almost choked on the lump that shot into his throat.

You stomped over to Haechan, pointed at Jeno and said, “I can’t deal with this douche canoe anymore!”

To which Jeno shot back, “Just shut up and sing, ice crotch!”

Your eyes went wide with rage and you spun in Jeno’s direction, ready and willing to claw out his eyes. Haechan grabbed you by the arm and steered you back over to the microphone, officially sapped of all patience.

“In ten seconds, me and Mark are going to start playing,” he said hurriedly. “And both of you are going to look like losers if you’re not ready.”

You huffed a swear or two under your breath and gripped the microphone as Mark and Haechan got into position. Then you heard the tapping of drumsticks behind you followed by the roar of Mark’s electric guitar.

By the time the show was over, you were utterly exhausted. Between Haechan and Mark, your arms draped across their shoulders, the three of you sang tiredly along to one of your songs as the boys essentially dragged you down the hall toward the back door for some well-earned sleep.

Turning the corner, you saw Jeno with two beautiful blondes. You bristled with annoyance. They were giggling at every little thing he said like they were getting dick after, which you quickly realized was the case.

Not on my watch.

“Let it go,” Haechan said, but he knew it would make no difference.

Jeno did not deserve pussy after how badly he stressed you out. You wriggled out of Haechan and Mark’s arms and made a beeline for the drummer.

“Oh my god,” you said in a loud, obnoxious voice, greeting the girls as you cuddled up to Jeno and patted his chest. “You guys look so cute! But unfortunately, Jeno is only halfway through his chlamydia treatment.”

Wide-eyed, the girls looked at you in horror before sending vengeful expressions at Jeno, who set his jaw and bristled with anger.

You held your hand beside your mouth, pretending to whisper a secret, “Very contagious through bodily fluids.”

The pair of blondes scurried off. One of them gave Jeno the finger.

“I hate and despise you,” Jeno hissed, trudging down the corridor.

You were hot on his heels, ready to resume the argument from earlier. A moniker like Ice Crotch was not going to be forgotten. “Haven’t you had enough threesomes?”

“There’s no such thing as too many threesomes,” Jeno replied, heated. “And I’ve only had four.”

Haechan asked curiously, “You keep track?”

Jeno snorted. “Don’t you?”

“One is easy to remember. I wasn’t into it.”

Mark fell in line beside them and said, more so to himself, “I have questions.”

“I don’t,” you spoke up, backhanding Jeno’s burly arm to get his attention. “Jeno, you’ve got pussy brain and you fucked up the tempo.”

Jeno went quiet, which was the last thing you expected.

Everyone was tired and raw. We were a well-oiled machine, steaming ahead like a freight train, but with time, gears start to grind. When gears grind, they tear through flesh and bone.

I know my boys. It sounds cliche, and I agree, but I know them. We’ve been friends for so long and crossed hundreds of lines of intimacy reserved for soulmates. They can’t hide anything from me.

Especially the things they intentionally try to hide from me.

You knew you had struck a nerve, but you weren’t sure which one. You dug your heels in regardless, but you were miffed when Jeno said nothing and made for the door.

“Did he just storm off?” Mark questioned, equally bemused.

“He never does that,” Haechan said softly, turning to you.

You didn’t hesitate to stomp after him, and Mark and Haechan didn’t follow this time. When fire fought with fire, it was best to keep a distance to avoid getting burned.

The cold of Chicago’s night was bitter on your cheeks when you stepped outside and you pulled your jacket tightly round you. Jeno hadn’t jumped into the van yet. He was lingering in the lot, scraping his shoes across the asphalt as he puffed on a cigarette.

Closing the distance, you called, “The hell is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he replied, avoiding your eyes and blowing out smoke.

“You’re out of sync and you’re acting weird.”

Jeno narrowed his eyes at you. “We were all out of sync tonight. Why am I the only one getting called out on it?”

As usual, no matter how angry he made you, your first instinct when things were too tense was to smooth his feathers. His surface was rough, but at his core, Jeno was tender. You brushed your hand down his arm and said sweetly, “Because you’re the rock…”

"We’re all built on," was going to be the end of that sentence. Unfortunately, I never got to say it.

Jeno cut you off. “I don’t want to be your rock,” he lashed out, hissing your name. “Don’t you feel pathetic leaning on me all the time?”

You recoiled like you’d been slapped and that was when you noticed his eyes. They didn’t belong to the Jeno you knew, but to the monster that stole his mind and would eventually give him back by morning.

Wrapping your arms around yourself in comfort, suddenly much colder than before, your breath pillared into the night like the smoke from his mouth when you whispered, “I didn’t. Until you said that.”

Jeno blinked, realizing too late that he’d hurt you.

That was the thing about me and Jeno. We both thought the other to be fearless and unbreakable, but also knew who we were at each other’s cores. I was his mirror image and he was mine. The broken kids; the kids that just wanted to be loved. The pair everyone knew to be demons, but never stopped to think how we became them.

The fallen angels.

Anger faded from his face in an instant. “I didn’t mean it,” Jeno started, flicking away the cigarette and reaching for you.

You stepped back, not wanting to be touched. “You’re at your most honest when you’re high, baby,” you said sternly, fixing him with a look that rooted Jeno in place. “Don’t lie to me now.”

Jeno swallowed the lump in his throat. How could you always see right through him?

You wiped the tear that spilled down your cheek and escaped into the van, your safe place, your little haven. Jeno ran a hand down his face and cursed, “Fuck,” for hitting you where it hurt.

The rest of the night was tense and awkward, only slacking when sleep took hold. Everyone was painfully exhausted. Chicago had exceeded expectations and pushed all limits. The show was insane. The energy was incredible. I would remember that performance for the rest of my life.

Me and the boys may have been a little out of sync, but each of us gave it our all. We left nothing on the floor and held nothing back.

Haechan curled around you in the bed, keeping you warm. You claimed the bed together more often than not. Mark slept like a vampire, on his back on the floor with his arms at his sides. It was the weirdest thing you’d ever seen, but it worked for him somehow. He slept like a baby, the whistle of his snores filling the van.

Jeno sat in the driver’s seat, looking up at the stars, exhaling the smoke from a joint. He was wide awake, couldn’t sleep. An unfortunate side-effect of the shit he took to get high. The marijuana wasn’t simmering him down as hoped. He’d probably stay up all night and sleep the day away.

Glancing over his shoulder, seeing your pretty face made him smile. You looked even cuter when you slept, but it was frustrating as hell.

No one else noticed he was high but you. Did you really know him that well?

Of course she does, Jeno thought. You were his better half. That’s how it worked. He could never escape you. There was a point of no return when it came to intimacy. Not so long ago, you and Jeno soared past that point. Two reckless teenagers, young and wild, that found all their highs and lows with each other.

Jeno propped his legs up on the dash and closed his eyes, watching the memories like a movie in his head. Mark shredded the electric as if his life was on the line; probably to vent his sexual frustration. Haechan was a whirlwind of energy despite playing that boring ass bass. And you, beautiful you… Mark wasn’t kidding when he said you were a god on stage.

Chicago delivered on the show, but not the after-party. Instead of drinking and fucking the night away, Jeno was in the stuffy van watching the stars go by when he wasn’t stealing glances of you. He wanted to be in your arms, needed you to kiss him and tell him everything would be okay.

You were the fix he craved most of all.

In the time it took him to blink, dawn broke. The sun shone across Jeno’s face. He lifted a hand, shielding his eyes. He grumbled a little and turned in the seat to get comfortable, cursing at the awkward angle his back was in.

Your hand touched his shoulder gently and Jeno lurched in surprise, peering up at you. He’d never looked so weary and drained, but you could see the animal was gone from his eyes. “You’ve been up all night?” Your voice rang with compassion, and Jeno felt utterly undeserving.

He nodded, his eyes fluttering closed, unable to keep them open any longer.

You tugged at him, getting Jeno to his feet and ushering him to the bed, where he basically collapsed onto the mattress. Mark and Haechan were up, crawling around in search of coffee like a pair of zombies. Meanwhile, you let Jeno situate and draped the blanket over him, tucking him in, and brushed some of his hair back from his face.

Jeno took your hand and laced his fingers through yours. “Tell me you love me,” he said in barely a whisper.

“I love you,” you replied without hesitation, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing his knuckles. You stayed propped over him, wanting to be close so you could be sure he finally drifted off. You left a chaste kiss on his brow and coaxed, “Go to sleep, baby.”

Mark turned away. It wasn’t jealousy he felt, just longing. Seeing you so gentle with someone you were viciously fighting with the night before made him want you more. No matter what was said and done, there was too much love in this cramped little van.

When Jeno’s breathing leveled out and his hand went slack in yours, you finally relaxed. You’d be damned if he went days without sleep. There wasn’t much you could do, but the boys had their limits and you did your best to make sure they weren’t crossed.

Without another word, you clambered into the driver’s seat and turned the key, driving out of the club parking lot and onto the main road. You found a shopping center where Mark and Haechan could run errands while Jeno was out, and you pulled in.

Jeno slept well into the afternoon, stirring when the smell of hot food filled the van. Haechan used some of the gig money to splurge on delicious Chinese takeout.

You pulled out a foldable table from behind the cabinet and stood it up on the floor. The four of you sat around it and ate in silence, stuffing your faces until your bellies were full. You and Haechan gabbed a little, but not much. Mark and Jeno didn’t mutter a single word, both of them stuck in their feelings.

A far cry from how they would be that night.

One last show in Chicago. You were back on the same stage as before. It was the first time the band would perform an additional night at a club.

Jeno and Mark were squabbling, which was a rare enough sight to see. The two generally didn’t like to fuck with each other. It always resulted in fists flying and both were surprisingly really good at scrapping.

You looked to Haechan and rolled your eyes. Your best friend was smiling, on the verge of a laugh.

“We’re doing the third set,” Jeno said firmly.

“She can’t,” Mark replied, anger rising. “Her voice is fried from last night. The third set could knock it out for weeks and we’ll have no singer.”

Jeno shrugged. “She can take it.”

You were thoroughly annoyed. “She’s standing right here,” you spoke up, folding your arms. The audacity they had. It made you bristle, because you knew it had nothing to do with your voice and had everything to do with your body.

“What do you want to do?” Mark asked, softening his voice for you.

Jeno cut in, “Don’t ask her. You have to push her.”

You shot him a nasty scowl. “Stop pushing me.”

“Or what?” He smirked.

You shivered with irritation crossing dangerously toward rage.

“I don’t think you can do the third set,” Jeno said, challenging you, his smirk deepening. “Prove me wrong.”

“I’m not falling for that reverse psychology bullshit.”

“Coward.”

A smug look washed over your face as you hissed, “Don’t you feel pathetic leaning on me?”

The smile fell off Jeno’s lips. “I said I was sorry.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t care,” you snapped, but you definitely cared. The wound was still fresh and stung.

Haechan tilted his head when you looked at him. He was always your anchor in the rough seas of Mark and the violent winds of Jeno. “I’m with you, whatever you choose,” he said.

If I ever walked off that stage, my boys would follow. No questions asked. They would follow me into hell and back. Though the four of us would probably just live there indefinitely.

You straightened your shoulders and your tone left no room for argument. “We’re doing the third set.”

Jeno beamed victoriously. Haechan nodded. Mark gave a look mixed between concern and awestruck.

You sang until you were spent; brutally, wholly, and everything in between. Your legs felt like jelly when you walked off stage and your chest ached, lungs taut. The adrenaline, like a performance-enhancing drug, had run its course and you were officially on empty.

It wasn’t unlike you to push yourself to the absolute limit. You loved the stage. You worshiped the power that surged from your voice when you sang into the mic. Pipes for days, Haechan always said.

The dressing room was a sight for sore eyes. You dropped heavily onto one of the sofas and let your head fall back, closing your eyes. Your throat felt like you’d swallowed razors.

“Try not to talk,” Haechan said, holding up his hand when you shot him an irritated look. “I’m not telling you to be quiet. I’m suggesting you let your voice rest.”

You nodded and sunk back into the sofa again.

Mark was vibrating, the energy of the show still pulsing through him. Brimming with energy (the excess turning into courage), he walked over to you and bent down, pressing a lingering kiss to your brow.

You smiled, knowing it was Mark without opening your eyes.

Jeno finally deigned to grace the rest of you with his presence, bursting into the dressing room and exclaiming, “Holy shit, you killed it!”

“And this is where you take all the credit,” you rasped, wincing at the sound of your own voice.

“I’ll wait till you go to bed and then I’ll take all the credit.”

You lifted your head and narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t you have some ass to chase?”

Jeno licked his lips. “Nah. I only got eyes for you right now.”

“Pluck them out for all I care.”

“You wanna fuck me so bad you look stupid.”

You waved him away, settling down and closing your eyes again, and wheezed, “Have fun with your hand.”

Haechan sat beside you, picking up your legs and draping them over his lap. “I’ve never seen you so mad at him.”

“He just doesn’t stop,” you huffed. “You know when to leave me alone. Mark never pushes my buttons. Jeno just keeps fucking digging.”

Haechan chuckled. “That’s all he knows how to do.”

“Whatever.” You shrugged, feigning indifference.

Mark suddenly asked, “Do you love him?”

You sighed. “I love all three of you. He’s definitely my least favorite though.”

Mark gleamed proudly at Jeno, who scowled back.

“So, if we were drowning, who would you save first?” Haechan asked mischievously.

“Mark. Obviously.”

Mark’s grin widened, while Haechan gasped and put a hand over his heart like it was the ultimate betrayal.

“You can swim,” you said, patting Haechan’s arm over your legs. You opened your eyes and gave Jeno a vicious sneer. “Jeno’s the only one drowning.”

Jeno’s lips squared into a frown.

“What’s that mean?” Mark asked curiously, but Haechan stayed silent. He knew.

“Leave it,” Jeno warned, darker than ever.

The three of you did. Unlike Jeno, you knew when to quit.

Some people did drugs. Others did rock music. A few did both.

The boys dispersed momentarily. You were relieved when the dressing room was empty, leaving you to your thoughts and the searing pain in your vocal chords. Rubbing at your eyes, smearing your makeup, you didn’t hear someone come back in as you muttered to yourself, “God, my throat fucking hurts.”

“It’s probably raw as shit,” Jeno said, making you jolt. And roll your eyes. He cleared his throat and switched his tone to add, “Speaking of raw…”

“No.”

“You let Mark in raw,” he whined loudly.

You cut him a glare. “I wouldn’t let you raw me if you were the last man on earth.”

Jeno pouted. “Ow.”

With a scoff, you decided to turn the tables on him. “Why are you so hard for me the past few days? I can’t even brush my teeth without you humping the air around me.”

There was no shame to be found in Jeno. “I haven’t had you in weeks,” he groaned.

Your lips parted in surprise. “You’ve had every other girl in the country.”

“It’s not the same.”

You stood and crept close to him, close enough to ghost your lips over his mouth. Jeno went boneless, every inch of him fixated to you and what you would do next. He wanted you so bad he couldn’t see straight. So, you decided to yank the metaphorical rug out from under him, sniping, “You’re pathetic.”

“Are you really going to hold that against me forever?” Jeno asked, tensing.

No. It was just easier to be mad at him. That was the only way I could have some defense against the power he had over me.

“I’ll make you a deal,” you said, sliding your hands over his shoulders and winding your fingers into his hair. “Answer one question for me and I’ll forgive you.”

Jeno was one more breath away from kissing you. He knew it was a trap. You were luring him in and he was happy to swallow the bait. “Fine,” he replied in a husky voice, eyes on your lips. “Ask your damn question.”

“What are you taking?”

“What do you mean?”

You hardened your gaze on him and tugged on his hair. “Don’t play that with me. I know better.”

Jeno studied you a moment. You would keep yanking this thread until it unraveled. He pushed, you pulled. The two of you could play tug-of-war with each other’s heartstrings forever. Jeno decided it was better to rip the bandage off and get it over with it.

He reached to the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out a bag, and handed it out to you.

You took a split-second look at the bag and your jaw dropped, your arms falling as you snatched it quickly. “Cocaine? Are you fucking kidding me, Jeno?”

Jeno stole the bag back in the time it took you to blink, returning it to the safety of his pocket. “We’re supposed to do drugs,” he defended, rather unconvincingly. “We’re rockstars.”

“We’re teenagers that just graduated high school with barely enough cash for fuel and chips!”

“How I spend my cut of the money is my business,” Jeno shot back.

“This isn’t about the money.” You folded your arms, scolding him like a mother would a child; oscillating between angry and worried. “You know how dangerous that shit is.”

Jeno shifted his approach too, ever your mirror. “It’s the only way I can perform, babe. If I don’t have it, I can’t focus and I get too nervous.”

You softened even more, like Jeno knew you would. “We can get you something else,” you said gently. “Something better. Safer.”

He scoffed. “With our gas and chips money?”

You sighed, accepting a temporary defeat, but you pressed, “You’re doing it to get high. Not to concentrate.”

Jeno went slack, equally defeated, and reached for your waist. “I’m just trying to have a good time. We know this won’t last. We’re going nowhere.”

You lowered your head. “I know.”

The summer was half over and we hadn’t been scouted. Hope was replaced with disappointment and eventually, disappointment would flip to resentment. We never put it into words, but it was like a cloud following us, day and night.

Jeno took your face in his hands and tipped your chin up until you met his eyes. “Let me have this summer,” he whispered sadly. “Mark got you. I got this.”

Something inside you broke a little.

Yes, when the summer was over, you were Mark’s.

But the summer wasn’t over.

Jeno smiled in surprise when he felt the warmth of your lips on his, but he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and deepen the kiss. Feeling the heat of your body against his was what he’d been craving, wanting you to burn him alive.

My first instinct always was to comfort him. I would chip away at myself and give him every piece if it meant he could use them to stitch his wounds.

Believe it or not, Jeno was my first love, but a first love at fifteen means nothing in the grand scheme of things. He was my first everything, but we just didn’t work. No matter how hard we tried. There was a mad and intense connection between us, inseverable, but in the confines of a relationship, we were wild animals forced together in a cage.

I know few will understand us. Hell, even I don’t understand how I could have so much passion and fire for someone that stretched me thin and forever kept me at the brink of insanity.

But I was beyond questioning it.

Jeno slipped his tongue in your mouth and you grabbed his hips, pulling him flush against you. His kisses were surpassing hungry and landing somewhere near ravenous. The intensity must have scared him, because Jeno suddenly parted from you and took a step back.

You rubbed your lips bashfully, not realizing you were panting until it was the only sound in the quiet dressing room. And Jeno was breathing just as heavily.

“What’s wrong?”

Jeno shook his head. “I want you so bad.”

You snickered. Here you were on a silver platter and he was the one that put distance between you.

Though you opened your mouth to say something snarky, Jeno spoke up, “But you’re going to leave me.”

Your heart sank. It dawned on you; this summer was the end to a lot of things. Youth was ending. The band was ending and with it, all of your dreams.

And the tie between me and Jeno would have to finally be severed so my life with Mark could start.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. You didn’t want to think about Jeno and his broken heart. Or that the drugs you scolded him over were what he used to fill the void you left behind.

Jeno respected the hell out of you for having the strength to leave him. He never could walk away from you even though he knew it was for the best. You would spend your whole life trying to fix him while he would always use you as a crutch.

It wasn’t fair to either you or him.

“Mark is good for you,” Jeno said in barely a whisper, his eyes glistening.

You shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about Mark.”

Jeno swallowed the lump in his throat. Seeing his pain reflected back at him on your face was too much. “Get high with me.”

Your eyes went wide. “Why?”

“You’re my person,” he said, vulnerable. “The only one I’ve ever wanted to do it with.”

This was what you struggled to put into words - the hold this boy had on you. He was bottomless ocean depths.

“It’s always you and me. We do everything together,” Jeno continued, reaching for your hand and leaving a kiss on your knuckles.

You let him pull you back into his arms and asked, “What if I die?”

“I’ll bring you back,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your brow that completely melted you.

“What if you die?”

“Let me go.”

Your eyes suddenly shone with the threat of tears. “Never.”

Jeno leaned into you, stealing a kiss from your lips. “Just this once, babe.”

You paused, thinking it over. Everything inside you screamed, “Yes!” Jeno never failed to bring this side out of you - the reckless, starved one that didn’t give a damn about consequences. You always feared if that was the real you, the true you. “Just this once,” you said quietly, closing your eyes as Jeno sealed his lips to yours again.

The idea of getting high reached out to you with gentle, caressing fingertips, promising to banish the pain and numb the hurt.

Tearing himself away from you once more, Jeno walked over to the door and locked it.

Yet another first time with Jeno to add to my list.

You were caught off-guard at how fast the high kicked in and never before had you noticed how tense your body was until it wasn’t anymore. Your mind was even lighter. There was no more torment. You could feel that it was there, but it didn’t ache any longer.

The sensation was indescribable. You were whole, perfect, immortal and invincible all at once.

And that was how you found yourself on the couch with Jeno, pawing at each other like animals in heat.

“Jeno?”

“I know.”

You sucked in a breath as he nipped at your neck and asked weakly, “Am I going crazy?”

“Babe,” he said, meeting your eyes with a smirk. “You been crazy.”

You laughed and the sound was music to Jeno’s ears, making his smile widen.

Time blurred together. It could have been the next day or the next year for all you cared. All you knew was this moment with Jeno and how it lasted a lifetime.

You sank deeper into the sofa beneath Jeno’s weight. Your thighs were hooked on his hips, hands roaming his taut, muscly back. Both your shirt and his tee were somewhere on the floor, along with your bra.

Jeno kept grinding into you, each movement rougher than the last. “Fuck,” he swore, lips brushing your ear. “I just know you’re getting so fucking wet right now.”

He wasn’t wrong.

A wanton noise of pleasure escaped you and Jeno ate it up. You were burning by a thousand degrees, it was almost painful. You had never craved someone’s body on such a primal level before.

With Mark, it was love, but this? This was lust running wild with abandon.

The doorknob wiggled. You didn’t hear it over the loud thumping in your ears and neither did Jeno, who was far too busy bruising your neck whilst he kneaded your breasts, pinching your nipples to make you squirm. Haechan didn’t need to try the knob again to know what was going on. He turned to Mark, who was coming down the hall, and led him away.

“They’re working out their issues. Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said hurriedly. Mark hesitated, but didn’t argue. He was none the wiser. With the way you and Jeno had been at each other’s throats, it never crossed his mind that you would fuck him.

Meanwhile, you were discovering new uncharted levels of arousal, undulating beneath Jeno, trying to match his movements, which were getting faster and harder. The drugs in your system made everything feel more intense, all-consuming. There was no tension, no insecurity, just instinct and pleasure.

Jeno was definitely waiting for you to give him the green light, and you were enjoying keeping it from him, but the throbbing between your legs was unbearable.

You planted your hands on his thick chest and pushed, making Jeno prop over you and look into your face. “Wanna fuck now?” you asked sheepishly.

His pupils dilated. “I thought you’d never ask.”

You whined when Jeno clambered off of you, standing next to the sofa and unfastening his pants. Before he drew them down his thighs, he pulled condoms from his pocket and dropped them on your lap.

“Two?” You snorted. “My lucky day.”

“One for each girl. You know, the ones you chased away from me.”

Licking your lips as his hard cock sprang into view, you grabbed him by the hips and purred, “I called first dibs on that dick years ago.”

Jeno chuckled, but his expression changed on a dime when you leaned in. He watched you drag your lips over his abs, kissing and nibbling along his happy trail. His breaths stuttered as he said, “Whenever you want it, it’s all yours.”

You peeked up at him hotly. “I want it now.”

While Jeno fitted himself with a condom, you shimmied out of your pants and underwear, and the moment they were on the floor, you turned onto your knees, braced yourself on the arm of the sofa, and arched your back, sticking your ass in the air.

He wouldn’t be able to resist it for a second.

“Fuck you,” Jeno hissed, getting into position behind you and raking his cock between your folds, gathering your slick from tip to base.

You wiggled your hips. Your brain was clouded with lust and drugs, and something purely hungry for Jeno. Like he was your favorite meal. “Gimme it,” you huffed, glancing over your shoulder. “What the fuck is taking so long?”

Jeno gave your ass a smack, making you squeak. “You need to calm down,” he chided with a grin, still sliding his length between your slit. He was so riled up his hips jerked against you involuntarily.

You reached between your legs, getting a hand around his dick and steering it into your aching pussy. Jeno let you, biting his lip and smirking at how goddamn horny you were for him.

The head of his cock pressed into your entrance and you grasped the arm of the sofa with both hands as Jeno began thrusting forward, working himself inside until he impaled you on every last inch of his girthy cock. You buried your face in the couch, biting down on the stressed leather.

Jeno gripped your waist tight and drew you to him until he was balls deep in your tight heat, feeling your walls stretch and flutter around his length. The drugs amplified everything about you; your warmth, your scent, your sounds. He barely noticed the condom at all.

When he drew back and shoved his cock back into your cunt, you lifted your head and cried, “Fuck!”

“You’re so wet,” Jeno growled, sinking in and out to hear your slick pussy welcoming him back.

You whimpered. “Fuck you and that big dick,” you mumbled, but you didn’t mean a word of it. You weren’t sure how much you could blame the drugs anymore. You wanted him to plow the living shit out of you until there was nothing left.

Jeno took that personally. As a challenge more than anything. He squeezed your waist in his hands and smacked his hips into your ass, driving his cock into your core and giving you something to really whine about.

It was all you could do not to scream as he took you for all you were worth. You fisted the couch in your hands until your knuckles ached and you threw yourself back to meet his strokes, a noise escaping on your hoarse throat with every rushed breath. Sex was a drug all its own. It just felt too damn good.

Jeno kept his hard pace, making sure he landed flush against your heat every time, and brushed his hands up your body to wrap them around your throat and tip your head back. “Yeah, that’s my good slut,” he taunted, the smack of his body colliding with yours getting louder. “She’s taking all that dick, huh?”

The sounds you made were humiliating, but they only made Jeno harder. His grip on your neck had you slack-jawed, your eyes winched closed. Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him!

It wasn’t fair that he had that kind of power over my body. With him, I felt desired and powerful, and between that - untainted. Unbroken. Jeno never saw me for the damaged goods that I was. To him, I was always perfect. He completed me. No matter how unhealthy it was, I wanted it.

I didn’t need drugs. Jeno’s love was my high.

“Don’t stop,” you choked out, his hands heavy on your strained vocal chords. “Don’t ever stop...”

Loving me. Though the words wouldn’t come, Jeno knew them.

“Never, baby,” Jeno said, releasing your throat in favor of your waist, draping himself over you and burying his face in your neck. His hands wandered your breasts as he plunged in as far as he could go and stopped, leaving a few scattered, reassuring kisses across your shoulders.

Your body trembled when he bottomed out, aching with need and overstimulation. You swallowed to wet your throat, panting for air, and asked, “Why are you…?”

“You’re so fucking high, baby,” Jeno crooned, touching you gently and affectionately. “Just trust me.”

He was right. You were high on drugs and his body. You were a nerve laid bare, every brush of his hands enough to make you shiver. Your body pulsated, like you were being dangled over the edge, the pressure becoming too much to bear.

You held yourself up on hands and knees, tortured by the fact he was no longer moving inside you, but his hands playing with your breasts and his lips on your neck had your attention. The stimulation was sending more shudders across your skin, making you lean into his touch as your core throbbed for him.

“Part of you will always be mine,” Jeno whispered into your neck. “I know you’ll pick him over me, but part of you will always miss me.”

You tensed with unshed tears and cried, “I know.”

“I need you to know it’s okay,” Jeno said, turning your head and kissing you with so much pain and pleasure it knocked the wind out of you.

You kissed him back, reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair. It was a cruel curse - to love someone so deeply that was bad for you.

Jeno broke the kiss and rocked gently into you, staying in deep and lilting his cock inside your walls, the head of him kissing your cervix. Normally, you would have pushed at his hips for some mercy, but the high made you impervious to pain.

Suddenly, he thrust in hard but slow, arching his hips. You staggered out a moan and reached out to steady yourself, almost knocked off balance by his strength.

He did it again and again.

Tears pricked at your eyes. Jeno was hitting you with those drawn-out, domineering strokes, making you feel every inch of him slam against your sweet spot. He may have agreed to never hold you choosing Mark over him against you, but he was going to give you one final reminder of how absolute his control of your body was.

“I’m coming,” you warned, his name a mantra on your tongue as you took all he had to give. You were grateful for the roar of music coming from the other side of the wall, drowning out your cries and Jeno’s moans.

Jeno fisted a hand in your hair while the other still tugged and rolled your nipples. He kept his pace, hips slapping into your ass at a perfect rhythm, knowing you were on the edge of orgasm with the way your walls clamped down on his cock.

“Fuck!” Another brutal thrust sent you into ecstasy. You shook and swore, trying to crawl away from him, but Jeno was on you, shoving you into the couch and riding out your high.

“Good girl,” Jeno hissed, watching you writhe beneath him. He went still and tipped his head back, letting out a tiny moan.

You blinked to clear your eyes. You could feel the bruises forming in your skin as Jeno pinned you to the couch. It only turned you on more. When you realized he was still hard, that he hadn’t come, you mumbled under your breath. He was supposed to finish with you.

Jeno’s eyes flickered. Another moan escaped him as you rolled your hips, desperate for friction. He drifted his hands to your hair, gathering it all in his fists.

You sat up and went to work, fucking him as best you could in your position. Despite the condom, your pussy wanted to milk every drop of cum out of his dick. Post-nut clarity hadn’t set in. Either the drugs or the orgasm made you even more feral for this dumb boy.

“Oh, fuck,” Jeno groaned, watching you throw it back, bouncing your ass on him, taking him like a fucking champ. His abs tightened as he tried not to pound the fuck out of you. Instead, he reeled his hand back and slapped your ass, goading you.

“Come for me, baby,” you said darkly, the room echoing with the loud, wet clap of your bodies meeting.

Jeno growled a low curse in this throat. Suddenly he was on the edge, driven by your command and that tight fucking cunt.

You shrieked in surprise when he flipped you over roughly, the sound devolving into a moan when he steered his cock back into your pussy, grabbed your waist, and drilled into you like he would never get the chance again.

He didn’t last long at that pace. Jeno threw his head back and came, one moan after another tumbling from his pretty mouth, each one more ragged than the last as he emptied himself into the condom.

You brushed your hands over his thighs and hips, whispering little nothings as he came, feeling him shake like a leaf as he buried himself inside you. Once Jeno settled down, you touched his chest and asked, “Holy shit. Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” he wheezed, voice cracking, all the air knocked out of him.

Biting your lip to fight a laugh, you failed to hide the smug grin taking over your face.

“Don’t,” Jeno said weakly, rubbing at his eyes.

“You just came so hard you cried,” you teased, pinching his nipple for good measure.

“Don’t make fun of me.”

Feeling him about to pull out, you reached for his waist and held him there, joking, “I will remember this, forever and ever, and I will bring it up every time you get on my nerves.”

“You’re the worst.” He sobered, leaning in close. “And you’re the best I've ever had.”

You smiled as he kissed you, sealing his words on your lips. Then you giggled as his mouth traveled over your chest, sucking on a nipple. Your buds were still stiff and Jeno couldn’t resist.

“I see how easy it is to get addicted,” you said when Jeno got up to discard the condom. “That shit is intense.”

“Told you.”

Sitting up, you ran your hands through your messy hair. You could only imagine how you looked; makeup smeared, glistening with sweat. “You know you have to stop,” you told him, making your voice gentle.

Jeno afforded you no looks. “Eventually.”

You were too tired to argue, sore and spent in the best ways. When Jeno returned to the couch, you welcomed him with open arms, pulling him close and steering him to lay his head on your naked chest. You stroked your fingers through his hair and over his broad shoulders, and whispered, “I’ll never let you die, Jeno.”

He stayed quiet.

“You’re not allowed to leave me.”

“Stalker.”

You snorted back a laugh. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Jeno lifted his head and nuzzled your cheek, teasing, “I just think it’s cute how obsessed you are with me.”

You kept touching him. His skin was just so hot beneath your fingertips, like caressing an open flame. “Are you really okay with dying?” you asked after a moment.

Jeno shrugged. “It’s unavoidable. I don’t see the point in sweating over it.” As he spoke, Jeno kissed at your neck slowly, curious if he could get you riled up again.

Your lashes fluttered and you shifted underneath him. Though he left you more than satisfied, the longer he kissed over your pulse and palmed your breasts, the quicker the ache in your core came back, ready to be filled up again.

Jeno reached down to cup your sex, running his finger over your swollen clit and swearing under his breath when he felt your soaked entrance, thinking how easily he could slide right back in and make you feel good. Both of you.

“If you died,” you stammered, struggling to form words as he touched you. “I don’t think I would ever smile again.”

Jeno was caught off-guard. He stopped pawing at you to look in your eyes, wondering if you realized just how heavy a thing that was to say. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he told you innocently, kissing the corner of your mouth with affection.

It was the first time you’d seen him so serious. Not hiding behind his usual humor.

Jeno was surprised when you pushed him away and reached for your pants on the floor. He watched curiously as you rifled through your pocket and withdrew a balled-up piece of paper and handed it to him.

“For the memoir?”

You nodded, watching him unfurl the page, your heart thumping harshly in your chest. “Yeah, I’m constantly jotting stuff down.”

Jeno’s eyes drifted over your words.

I can’t stand him. He infuriates me. He makes me crazy. But Jeno is the one person that knows me - the good and the bad, and accepts them both.

I love my boys, but he’s the one I don’t think I could ever live without.

Jeno peered at you with glassy eyes, shining with tears. “Damn it,” he groaned, crashing his lips on yours.

As expected, you made use of that second condom.

Jeno hooked your legs in the crooks of his arms and thrust languidly, staring down at you. Your eyes never parted as he gave you release once more, knowing when the summer was over, he would never get to touch you again.

When all was said and done, the two of you slumped into opposite sides of the sofa, soaked with sweat. Once you caught your breath and Jeno returned from tossing the condom, it was your turn to clamber on top of him, using his chest as your pillow. You rested your head on his shoulder and traced senseless patterns over his collarbone with your fingertips.

Jeno said your name. “I want you to be happy. That’s all I want, but I know I can’t give it to you. I tried.”

You closed your eyes. It would keep the tears at bay. “I know.”

“I feel sorry for you, loving all three of us. It can’t be easy.”

“It’s what I was made for,” you said softly, tightening your arms around him, lest he fly away from you and never return.

Jeno changed subjects before it broke him. “I’ve never felt so self-aware of how it feels to be young. And how it doesn’t last long.”

You nodded slightly. “This time is precious.”

“I wouldn’t say precious. Definitely fun though.”

You snickered, relieved to hear his humor coming back, but a somber feeling rushed over you. “Do you think we’ll ever get tired of it?”

“Of what?”

“The performing, the fucking, and… the drugs.”

Jeno paused. “You mean each other.”

You sighed tersely. There was no hiding it from him.

My biggest fear was that my boys would hate me. That I would be a bitter reminder of what could have been, how close we were to our dreams before crash landing back on earth, broken and bruised forever from the fall.

Jeno brushed his fingers up and down your back, and kissed the top of your head. “I don’t think we’ll resent each other if this fails, babe,” he said in a low voice. Some things just aren’t meant to be, he thought sadly. Like you and me.

“If that happened, I think I would die,” you whimpered, burrowing your face in his chest.

“Don’t talk like that,” Jeno said, running his hand mischievously over your thigh. “But stop being so afraid of death. You’ll waste your life running from something that is going to catch you no matter what.”

You tipped your head back to kiss him. “I just know the devil dreads meeting us. We’ll steal his throne.”

Jeno kissed you back hotly. “Hell yeah. I can’t wait to fuck you on it.”

You laughed.

Hard to steal something that already belongs to you, Jeno.

Copyright 2020-2024 © yutaholic (formerly zenyukhei) All rights reserved do not copy or translate without my permission!

[tr4gictea]

I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS FOR REQUEST BUT I DON'T WANNA OVER BEAR YOU SRRYY

What about a teen gn reader who looks average (in term of strength) but could OBLITERATE a ruin guard in like,, one punch

How would the characters react to that???

genshin + weak looking but strong!teen!reader

❥Masterlist

Tags: slight fluff, mention of injuries

Including: Xiao, Dehya, Lyney

word count: 1,203

A/n: Heyyy, guess who's not dead! sorry I haven't been around for like a year or two things for me have gotten busy but things are slowing down for me right now so I'm gonna be focusing more on writing now! I hope you enjoy :D

You had always heard stories of adventurers finding new civilizations, fight cool monsters, and traveling around the world. You were gonna be like one of those strong adventurers and be marked down in the history books. Though your training and honed your skills to your very limit yet your body stayed the same, growing at its normal pace. Sure you could punch through a brick wall but, you also looked as if you spent your days reading inside. But after a while you had come to accept that you would remain average size until you joined the adventures guild.

The adventure’s guild always had interesting commissions, from the mundane to the deadly. You joined looking forward to getting super hard missions where you could explore a abandoned temple and fight the spirt that lives there! Or a commission about a missing person who has been kiddnap by dozens of treasure hoarder and you have to fight your way through them! As Katherine hands you your first commission you read the page telling you to deliver mint to some guy. 

You look up at kathrine with a “are you joking” face. She only smiles at you and asks if you have any questions. You insist to kathrine that you are a strong individual and you can handle your own. She shakes her head saying that this is the best commission for your skill level. You went back and fourth with Kathrine about the commission before she gave up and gave you some hillcurl camp to clean up on the west side. Snatching the commission out her hand you rush off to complete it. 

It wasn't the intense adventure you hoped for but it was better than nothing. So you head out to the camp and when you get there you spot three hillchurls, easy enough. When you finish off

the last hillchurl you heard the sound of gears churning behind you. 

“WATCH OUT!” a mystery voice calls out. Quickly turning around you are faced 13 feet tall ruin guard. It lifts up its giant geared hand attempting to slam it down on you, you dodge out of the way by jumping back. This is the first time you've ever encountered a ruin guard and there was something you wanted to try with it. 

Throwing your weapon to the side you take a running start at the ruin guard. You can hear the stranger yell at you to get back when you leap into the air lifting your fist up pull it down right on the machine’s head. It flies back into a rock wall 12 feet away from you. Landing on your feet you watch as the ruins guard light flickers for a second then goes dark. Turning to the mystery person you are met with a look of…

Xiao: Shocked but doesn't care that much

Xiao was patrolling the area around Yaodie Valley when he came across you fighting hillchurls. You had an adventurers guild uniform on but you looked far too weak to be fighting such monster, and at such a young age. But you looked to be holding yourself well so he didn't bother you. Until he saw out of the corner of his eye an old ruin guard started to shuffle and activate. 

He yelled at you warning about it but to his surprise, you dropped your weapon and took off running towards it. He was about to intervene when you sent the ruin guard flying into a wall. He stood there for a second spear still out and in his fighting stance but, confused as hell. How did such a weak-looking child punch that machine like it was a stuffed animal. 

“Uh, Mr. Adeptus?” You said trying to get the man's attention. “are you okay?” Snapping out of his trance he circles around you checking for wounds, none were found except for some red on the fist. And without any word he disappears. 

Dehya: Worried but Amazed

While traveling to meet her newest client she stumbles on you collecting stuff off the ground while a ruin guard towers over you. You looked no older than 18 and even tho you had a weapon didnt look like you could fight. She shouts a you watch out and unsheft her claymore. As she is running towards you she sees you turn around send the metal heap flying into a stone wall with a singular punch. Stopping her in her track Dehya looks at the scene before her with her mouth agape.

“Hey kid!” she yells at you. “Are you okay?!” She began checking your body for injuries. That was quite a punch but she needed to check that you didnt break anything from that. 

“If i move your fingers like this do they hurt?!” She asked while bending your fingers slightly upwards.

“No ma’ma,” you resond 

“I've just never seen someone knock out a ruin guard with one punch! How did you even do that without break your hand?”

“I drink a lot of milk.”

Lyney: Excitement

Today was a day Lyney had all to him self, much to his dismay. Lynette was off on a solo mission and Freminet teaching some of their siblings how to dive. Lyney would have joined but those lessons were too slow paced for him and he'd end up getting board and leaving the group behind.

So now he was outside of the city walls looking for something that could entertain him. When he saw the slashing of a weapon out the corner of his eye and turned to see a teenager fighting a couple hillchurls. They looked skilled enough to take on a couple monsters but, defiantly not strong physically.

He was about to head out and look for something more interesting when he heard the gears of a ruin guard turn. He spun around to see you face to face with one of these machines. He saw you jump back nearly missing the hand crushing coming down on you. As he got out his bow to shoot the thing down he stopped himself as he saw you run and jump off a rock and landing a punch on top of its head sending it flying backward.

You turned to face him and his bow was still in his hand with a shit eating grin on his face.

"My archons that was amazing!" He exclaimed while throwing his hands up and trotted right up too you. "How did you manage to do that?" He was lifting your arms up and down like he was trying to find something to tell him how you knock the guard out in one punch. "Or is it just raw strength... Punch me."

"What?" He said that as if it was just a normal request.

"Punch me right here in the stomach, I wanna see something."

"Sir I just knocked out a whole monster and now you want me to punch you?"

"Yes, I don't know what's so hard to understand. you can take down an ancient machine with one punch but you look so... normal!" Rude. "I don't mean that in a bad way but I want to see how this is possible." for the rest of the day he spent it with you testing out your strength on different things. He should have more days to himself if it's gonna be like this one!

Requests are now open again :D

[yuwuta]

Wow I have been nonstop thinking about tennis king yuuta and his little baby boy I’m going to kill you (affectionate) - @yuutito

teeheeeeeeeee….. here’s some more, aleks :’) enjoy :))))))

“Everybody thinks he looks like me, but I don’t see it that way. Maybe it’s because every time I look at him, I see my wife and I’m reminded of her […] I’m a little biased so I see her in everything.” 

You find yourself with tears welling in your eyes the more you read into Yuuta’s latest magazine interview. Between his sweet quotes and the pictures of him with your son, it’s taking everything in you not to burst into full-blown tears. 

Your boys look so handsome. You and Yuuta shared your concerns with publicizing your child at such a young age, but you two came to the conclusion that you’d rather have the control in the narrative than to let private family pictures be leaked uncontrollably. As another point of reassurance, Yuuta’s career provided him with just enough lime-light to be a household name without the crazy fame and criticism that came along being a true celebrity. Besides—Yuuta talked enough about you and your son in press conferences and interviews that it was bound to happen sooner rather than later. 

The article wasn’t entirely about you, or your family—or at least, you’re sure it wasn’t intended to be; you knew your husband had a knack for rambling about his loved ones, even where work was concerned. As you continue to read, you find a segment where the author compared Yuuta’s current statements with something similar he’d said about you twelve years ago—at the very start of his professional career: “If I owe this [winning Gold] to anybody, it’s my girlfriend. She’s always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. I wouldn’t have qualified or even thought to qualify if it weren’t for her.” 

It feels like you and Yuuta were just two kids in love back then. You didn’t think it could be more than that—you didn’t think you could love Yuuta more than you did all those years ago, but somewhere along the way just being in love wasn’t enough to describe it; Yuuta became your partner, someone you loved fundamentally, but also because you couldn’t stand to see yourself without him. And just when you thought you couldn’t love anyone nearly as much as you love him, you turn the page to a picture of your husband and son peeping through the holes of a racket and your heart feels full. 

When you scan the image more closely, you realize that it isn’t just any racket—it’s an old one, one you’d given to Yuuta as a gift probably back in high-school. You had no idea he’d kept it, but you suppose you shouldn’t be all that surprised; Yuuta is nothing if not sentimental. 

“Ah, there she is~” Yuuta’s voice cuts through your thoughts. When you turn, you see him, with your baby boy on his hip, sliding the back porch door closed. 

Both boys approach you with a smile on your face, and you set the magazine aside to sit up in the lounge chair to greet them. Yuuta presses a kiss to your forehead, then your lips before you do the same to your son. Immediately after, he reaches his arms out for you, and Yuuta chuckles, “You wanna be with your mama? Can’t blame you, I missed her, too.” 

He hands the baby off to you, and takes a seat on the other end of the chair, reaching over to coo at his son as you smother his face in kisses. 

“How was the farmer’s market?” you question, letting the baby settle into your lap. 

“Good, he picked out some very bright peppers, and we got some more strawberries, know you’ve been craving them,” Yuuta smiles, reaching over to pat your son’s head, when the closed magazine catches his eye, and he reaches for it, quickly flipping through, “Ah—I guess that interview’s out. He’s grown so much, even though it was only a few months ago.” 

You find the blush on his cheeks beyond endearing. Yuuta always finds room to be bashful no matter how many times he’s waxed poetic about his love for you, or his family—his cheeks always stain pink like the first day you met him. 

“It’s sweet. You’re sweet,” you smile, sparing a hand to run through Yuuta’s hair, charmed by the way he leans into your touch, “I didn’t know you still had that racket.” 

“Of course, I keep everything you give me,” he says, earnestly. He closes the magazine and scoots a little closer, taking advantage of the proximity and of your touch to lay his head on your shoulder, “Did you… read all of it?” 

“Almost, but no, why?” you question, with a light-hearted grin, “Did you say something that would lead the world to believe you’re somehow even more in love with me? Because you might already be past the threshold, dear.” 

Yuuta hums. He reaches to take you son out of your lap and carefully shifts himself to that he’s laying down, his head on your lap, and the baby in his arms, happily giggling and cooing as Yuuta holds him up. He lowers and raises him back and forth a few times, nuzzling their noses together when their faces are close, before sitting him up on his chest.

Then he tilts his head up to look at you, wide, love-filled eyes blinking slowly before he says, “Maybe… depends on if me saying I want more kids is past the threshold or not.” 

[teamatsumu]

services. (fushiguro toji x reader)

summary: With how hectic your life is, you have no room for relationships. But you still have needs, and so you decide to pay to have those needs met.

word count: 4372

warnings: fem!reader, escort!toji, porn with minimal plot, smut, unprotected sex, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, daddy kink, choking, biting, this is so self indulgent pls dont judge me.

A million guesses in the world and you never would have predicted that you would be spending your Saturday night like this.

The only sound in your living room was the tick, tick, tick of the wall clock, as well as your occasional fidgeting. Your jeans rustled from where your leg was bouncing, an outlet for your nervous energy. You played with the sleeves of your sweater, rocking back and forth just slightly. You couldn’t decide what you wanted to blame this jittery feeling on, your anxiety or the cold. You wanted to go with the latter but you knew that what you were doing right now meant it had to be the former.

Who else would be waiting for a fucking escort to come to their house?

You looked at the clock again and rolled your eyes at your own antics. It was still ten more minutes before he was supposed to get here. Why were you already so clammy and shaky? This was pathetic. Well, getting an escort was pretty pathetic in itself, but this had to be a new low.

Honestly, you hadn’t expected yourself to be in this position. When a coworker had been venting about how your grueling profession and long working hours left no room for having a personal life, you had enthusiastically agreed. It was something you had been struggling with for years. It was the reason your last boyfriend had broken up with you, saying your job was way too time consuming and he felt ignored. He hadn’t been wrong. You were working more hours than anyone else you knew. And while you loved your job and wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world, you knew it meant sacrificing relationships. Sacrificing love and intimacy and even the simple act of a physical touch.

At this point you were so touch starved it hurt.

Your coworker had then recommended this escort service, saying that it had literally saved her life. An over exaggeration on her part, you were sure, but when you had looked at their website and seen how systematic and professional everything was, you really were taken by surprise. The website was clean and organized, and it took everything into consideration. Hell, they even had you fill out a consent form that was almost six pages long, and it had every kink and sexual option known to mankind. The website claimed that the service had a sophisticated algorithm to make sure it matched every client with an escort best suited for their sexual needs, and it encouraged you to be completely honest when filling the form.

Your face had burned as you read through the form, but you thought long and hard about every option you ticked yes or no on. You were lost, truly, because you had a lot of fantasies in your head but many were ones you had never tried before, even with previous partners. It made you hesitate, and you wondered if these were things you wanted to try for the first time with a complete stranger.

“Oh, trust me, you do.” Mei Mei, your coworker, had responded when you talked to her about your woes. She swung her leg and she took a swig of her coffee, leaning back and giving you a teasing smirk. “When I say these men know what they are doing, they know what they are doing. I would argue this is the best option if you wanna be adventurous in the sheets. Because no matter how you respond, the guy will know how to handle it.”

So after many days of ruminating and carefully curating your form, choosing yes on every option you wanted to try, you had taken a deep breath and submitted it. You felt instant regret as soon as you clicked send, wondering what the fuck you were doing. You were a successful career woman, and here you were, hiring a man to come fuck you in sinful ways. God, what had you come to? If your ex could see you now….

Over the next few days, you went through the payment process and finalizing a time slot for yourself. You talked on the phone to a very nice sounding middle aged lady who had the perfect customer service voice, who told you all the details you needed to know, how many hours your were getting, sending you a number where you could contact the agency afterwards, and a whole bunch of other stuff, finally ending it by letting you know the name of the man they had matched you up with.

Fushiguro Toji.

You gulped as you wrote the name down on the paper you were noting everything else on, tuning out her next words for a bit as you stared down at it. So this was the man you were going to have sex with. Was this okay? Or had you completely lost your mind and your self respect officially?

When you finally hung up, you mulled over the option of just canceling. But the thought only annoyed you. Come on, Y/N, what’s the big deal? The lady on the phone said they were a large, country wide agency who had thousands of clients. So they’re probably doing something right. And who cares? You’re a hardworking woman, and you still have needs. You’re just fulfilling a need you have. That’s it.

Pull yourself together.

And so here you were, on a cold Saturday evening, waiting for this Fushiguro Toji to show up at your door. You nearly jumped out of your skin when the doorbell rang, just two minutes before the agreed time. You stood up quickly, swaying a bit because of how shaky your legs felt, before taking a deep breath and walking to the door. You put your eye up to the peephole, cursing when you saw only chest and shoulders, unable to get a glimpse of his face. You were so panicked that you didn’t even register that this meant he was extremely tall. You only clocked in that fact when you finally opened the door.

It was the first thing you noticed. Just how massive he was. Even though his loose sweatshirt hid most of him, there was no questioning how broad his shoulders were, or how he stood so tall that you nearly dwarfed in comparison. You felt your heart skip, swooning. 10/10 for the escort agency on the size kink option. This man was huge.

He had jet black hair, spiky but tamed, and it looked soft as hell. He looked down at you with a little smirk, and your eye caught the scar on the corner of his mouth. It somehow added to how sexy he was, and you swallowed hard. Yup, this guy was a walking wet dream.

You wanted to slam the door in his face.

He said your name questioningly, and you nodded to confirm your identity. Out of instinct, you said his name back, making him nod and his lip curl up just a bit more. You nearly shivered when his eyes quickly mapped over your figure. For a brief second, you wished you had dressed up a bit more than just your jeans and a sweater, but you doubted you could still look half as good as he did.

“C-come in.” You choked out, stepping aside to let him in. He lumbered inside, movements almost slow and lazy, but still smooth. Your breath hitched when his cologne flooded your senses. Fuck. He also smelled great.

Your hesitation only increased, but you shook your head. He’s probably been with a ton of women. His whole job is to look good and be good in bed. Of course he was attractive. The agency had promised that all their workers were physically good looking. You just hadn’t guessed they would be sex on legs.

By the time you closed the door, locked it and trudged into the living room, Toji was standing in the center of it, looking around with slow movements of his eyes. His hands were buried in the pockets of his jeans, and he was biting the inside of his cheek. He turned to look at you once you were in view again, and you watched him give you another once over. You tugged on your sleeves again, fueling your nervous habit. You heard him snort.

“My boss was right. You’ve never done this before.”

You blinked, not expecting him to say that, or have such a rough tone. It almost offended you, like he thought you were some loser. When he saw your scowl, he immediately raised his hands with a chuckle.

“Don’t mean it in a bad way, sweetheart. It’s kinda cute. Just took me off guard, considering the shit you ticked off on your form.”

Now that made you flush and fidget. The knowledge that this stranger knew everything you wanted in the bedroom was a little unnerving, and pairing that with how heated his gaze suddenly got, and you felt your core stir.

“Would you like some tea?” You blurted out, at a loss for what else to say. He raised his eyebrow in response, making you cringe.

“Or coffee.” You added weekly. “Or we could uh…. just start. Um, go to the bedroom? I don’t-” Your face was so hot, you wanted to cry. Finally, you sighed and gave up, feeling your shoulders slump. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

This made Toji let out a hearty cackle, walking to your couch and dropping heavily on it. He patted the spot next to him, which you promptly took, unable to meet his eyes any longer. You convinced yourself that you couldn’t have done this worse, so there was no way to go but up since you had already hit rock bottom.

“Why’d ya get an escort service?” Toji asked, snapping you from your thoughts. You looked at him and saw genuine curiosity in his eyes, under the bored veneer that stretched over his face. You shrugged.

“I work too much. I wanted stress relief. My coworker said your agency was good. Now I’m kinda regretting it.” You explained concisely.

The tiniest of smirks took residence on Toji’s face at your last words, his body turned towards you. He hooked his arm over the back of the couch, resting his head on his balled up fist as he stared at you. “You won’t regret it by the time I’m done with you, sweetheart.”

Your breath caught at his words, body stiffening. To Toji’s trained eye, your movement was obvious, and it made him chuckle.

“You like that? Well, I can’t be surprised. You’re big on dirty talk, aren’t ya?”

He moved closer as he talked, one hand reaching out until his finger was tracing down your cheekbone, over your jaw, up until he reached your lips. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and your mouth opened on instinct.

“Wonder what kind of talk ya like more? Praise? You wanna be called a good girl? Or maybe the other kind? Maybe you’re a desperate little slut?”

His voice was rough, the air was charged, and despite the cold, heat flooded your veins. You felt like you could barely breathe, afraid to make any motion that could push Toji away. You felt your core pulse when he leaned forward.

“You familiar with the color system for safewords?”

You nodded almost imperceptibly. He hummed.

“Good.”

And then his lips were meeting yours.

It was slow, lazy, like all of his movements. His lips dragged over yours in an almost sensual way. His hand cupped the back of your head and tilted it to his liking, deepening the kiss more. His tongue teased your lips until you parted them, darting inside to slide it over yours. Your eyes rolled shut, shivers running over your spine, hands reaching up instinctively to curl into the material of his sweatshirt. He facilitated every move your mouth made, as if egging you to keep going, and you responded in kind, arching closer to him, pressing harder on his lips, even licking into his mouth a bit, albeit shyly. You felt his mouth curl as he pulled away, a wet squelch as your lips separated. You whined in protest, not even recognizing your voice, and he chuckled.

“We’ve got all night, sweets. Take it easy.”

His hands maneuvered you until he had you in his lap, and it was your first taste of Toji’s strength. You nearly keened at how easy it was for him to pull you around, and you once again felt your insides clench. Being on top of him made you feel intimately all the hard planes of his torso, and you finally let your hands wander. Toji didn’t stop you, watching your fingers disappear under his sweatshirt and meet his bare skin. You sucked in a sharp breath, tilting your head up to meet his lips again as your hands began their exploration.

Toji hummed, letting you guide the kiss this time, and you realized that he had played his cards very carefully to make sure you would come out of your shell. The thought turned you on even more, and you were absolutely sure that you had completely soaked through your lacy underwear by now. You pawed on his shirt, tugging it a bit.

“Take this off, please.”

Toji bit at your bottom lip. “Please what?”

You felt yourself flush hot, picking up on his implication. Another thing you had mentioned on your form. Your body stiffened but Toji squeezed at your sides, hands slipping under your sweater to rub your skin.

“Say it, baby. And I’ll do what you want.”

His lips were wandering, past your mouth, over your jaw and down your neck until his teeth were nibbling on the skin under your ear. Your eyes rolled up, subconsciously grinding down on his lap.

“Please,” you gasp when he sucked hard, likely leaving a hickey. “Please, daddy.”

Toji groaned, the first noise he had made all night, and it shot straight to your pussy. He reached behind him to tug his sweatshirt off, exposing him in all his muscled glory. Your mouth watered at the sight, hands running over him freely. You couldn’t believe you had this man under you, letting you grope and feel him up like this, looking up at you with eyes so predatory it nearly set off alarms in your head. Your touch was getting more and more firm as you continued touching him, his hands pushing down on your hips to encourage the way you were grinding on him. You felt his erection rub right between your legs, where you wanted him most, and you bit your lip in response. He felt big. Definitely the biggest you had ever had. You didn’t even have to look at it to know it would be a tight fit, and the thought of it made excitement zip through you. Your initial nervousness was dissipating, and all your repressed urges were now floating freely in your head.

You needed him to ruin you.

The thought made your movements more frantic, tugging and pulling at Toji, moaning into his lips when his hands wandered under your sweater and groped harshly at your breasts. God, when was the last time a man had touched you like this? You were so wet it made your whole body arch, pulsing with need.

“Daddy. Want- want you.” You whimpered in his ear, feeling his intake of breath at your words. Toji tugged your sweater off, pushing you back so he could take you in. You knew you already looked like a mess, and the thought made your face heat up. Toji smirked at you, stretching the little scar on the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, you leaned forward, licking at the healed over skin. His grip on your hips got impossibly tighter, and you knew it would leave bruises. He stood up, making you quickly wrap your legs around his waist, before walking towards your bedroom, which you pointed out. His lips never left your neck, nipping at any part he could reach, licking over you. You wondered if Toji had a thing for biting.

He was indulging everything you wanted, but a part of you wanted to indulge him too.

He tugged off your jeans and panties as soon as he had you lying on the bed, leaving you in only your bra. Your shyness seemed to have melted away at this point, your brain so foggy with need that you couldn’t think of anything except having him on top of you. Toji was quick to discard his own jeans, leaving him in his boxers, which were straining against the daunting bulge of his cock. You licked your lips at the sight, and the action didn’t go unnoticed by the man, who gave you a grin.

“You want my dick?”

You nodded eagerly, spreading your legs on instinct when he draped himself over you, slotting himself in the space you created. He hummed and licked his lips, eyes wandering over your figure. You felt yourself clench again at the heat behind his eyes.

“Let me get a taste of you first, sweetheart. Then you can have me.”

And then he lowered himself until his face was level with your bare pussy, breath fanning over it in a way that made your eyes flutter. You shouldn’t be shocked at how brazen he was, since this was his job, but it still surprised you. Your thoughts quickly melted away though, when he licked a fat stripe from the bottom to the top of your slit, parting your lips until he could lick at you unencumbered, swiping his tongue over your heat over and over.

You gasped and arched into him, feeling shivers run down your spread legs. Fuck, he was good. Of course he was good. His movements were purposeful, like he had done this a million times before (which he probably had). His tongue seemed to know every little nook and cranny that needed attention, gliding over your cunt until he circled your hole, sinking into the opening. You cried out when the tip hit your walls just right, enough stimulation to feel good but not nearly enough to satisfy. His lips and tongue left you breathless and wanting more. His massive hands held your thighs apart, teeth nibbling at your clit slightly until you were whining under him.

“Fuck. Toji.” Your voice already sounded so wrecked.

When his finger tip prodded at your entrance, you barely had time to process before he was sinking in, knuckle-deep. You cried out at the intrusion, eyes rolling when he curled it and seemed to immediately find your spot. You felt his lips twist up into a smirk when you cursed, knowing he had you.

His movements were merciless, one finger becoming two and pumping in and out of you so fast you were sure he would rip you apart. No matter how hard you clenched, his fingers were undeterred, as if he was adamant on ruining your cunt. You could hear the squelching of your juices, the sound filthy and so sexy it put you right on the edge. Toji seemed to notice. His dark eyes burned into yours, mouth lifting from your clit to let his fingers do all the work while he watched your writhe under his touch.

“You gonna cum, babygirl? Gonna soak my fucking hand? C’mon, baby. Wanna feel this pussy drench me. C’mon. Cum.”

His voice was so rough, adding to the sensations until you felt dizzy, muscles snapping stiff as you came all over his fingers. The noises grew even wetter, your juices flowing past his knuckles and down to his wrist. He hummed his approval, the sound set deep in his chest, eyes zoned in on your fluttering lips. When he pulled out, you let out a long, deep sigh. Your legs were trembling as Toji made his way up to you, licking up your neck before nipping at your earlobe.

“You got such a perfect cunt, baby.” He moaned into your ear, hips grinding down and pressing his clothed cock against you. “Perfect little pussy, fuck. You tellin’ me you haven’t been feedin’ her with cock on a daily basis? Because that’s what she deserves. To be stuffed full with a big dick every night. Soppy little filthy pussy like that needs loving daily.”

You keened at Toji’s words, your breath catching at how lewd he was being. He hooked a thumb into his boxers and tugged them down until his heavy cock sprang free and hit his stomach, tip flushed an angry maroon shade and leaking precum. Your mouth watered at the sight, not even caring about how big he was or how wide he would stretch you. You whined and wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer.

“Need you, Daddy.” You breathed out.

“You have me, little girl.” He cooed, almost taunting. His lips were twisted into a wide grin, looking down at you with unbridled lust. You noticed how red the tips of his ears were, flushed down his neck as well. His hair was pushed back haphazardly out of his eyes, and his body was covered by a thin sheen of sweat. His eyes were blown.

When Toji finally sank his cock into you, in one slow stroke, he groaned and cursed loudly, sinking down to his elbows on either side of your head. He let out a long breath, cursing again before a large, rough hand came up and wrapped around your neck, squeezing the sides just a bit. You gasped and arched into him, eyelids fluttering. The light haziness in your head was now intensifying as Toji bullied his cock slowly but surely into your cunt, no matter how much it tried to resist the intrusion.

“Fuck.” His voice broke a little. And somehow, that was better than the orgasm he had just pulled out of you. Knowing you had that kind of effect on this man who had never met you before, that you were reducing him to this just by your body alone, made you feel powerful. You clenched around him on purpose, and his grip on your neck tightened, making you freeze. He looked down at you, his grin almost manic.

“You playin’ games with me, sweetheart? Nasty little slut. I never would’ve thought.”

He pulled out then, until only the tip of his cock was inside you, before surging forward, hips slamming hard into you. You screamed and arched, and Toji didn’t give you a second more, thrusting into you in earnest.

“You forgot I was the boss here, little girl. Me. Say it.”

You could barely choke the words out, having the wind knocked out of you with every brush of his cock on your g-spot.

“Y-you’re-” You screamed at a particularly brutal thrust, legs kicking and twitching. Toji’s grip on your neck tightened, and you could no longer breathe. Your eyes crossed at the feeling.

“Look at you. Can’t even say a word. Such a whore for daddy.”

When he eased his hold, you took in big gulps of air, only a few moments before he tightened his grip again. His movements didn’t slow down for one second, driving his cock into you at a maddening pace.

“I’m gonna-” You didn’t finish. You couldn’t. Because in that moment, your orgasm crashed into you like a freight train, so intense you could barely breathe, even despite Toji loosening the hold he had on your neck. Your vision blackened, stars bursting over it as you writhed and twitched under him. He didn’t stop fucking into you, didn’t even pause. He groaned when you came around his cock, and he kept going.

You realized that this was just the beginning of a very long night.

………………………………..

It was around 4 in the morning when you tapped out. Or rather, Toji finally let you tap out.

You had come so many times you couldn’t count. You had positively lost all feeling in your legs, and every muscle in your body was sore and buzzing. Toji had pulled and twisted you into every position known to man, spanked and slapped you around, choked you, tugged on your hair until your scalp tingled, and had stuffed his cock, fingers and tongue into your abused pussy so many times you felt like you were dying. It was the most you had ever felt, every sensation amplified, crying until tears soaked your cheeks, cumming until you just couldn’t anymore. He quite literally fucked the soul out of you, plain and simple.

Now you were lying on your side on the bed, watching with half lidded, barely open eyes as Toji tugged his clothes back onto his glorious, god-like frame. He had only a few marks. Your teeth marks on his neck and shoulders, and some scratches down his back. Compared to you, bitten and bruised all over, he looked unaffected.

He turned to look at you, smirking when he saw that you were already watching.

“You sure you’re done? Ya have me for two more hours at least.”

You nodded and let out an unflattering snort. “If I had to go one more round you might have to take me to the hospital.”

He let out a laugh at that, walking closer to you. He fished in the pocket of his sweatpants, pulling out a small, rectangular card. You could barely make out his name and number.

“Don’t call the service next time. Call me directly.”

You raised a teasing eyebrow. “You do personal services?”

He shrugged in return, sending you a sleazy wink. “Only for really sweet cunts like yours.”

You groaned and buried your face in the mattress, hearing him laugh loudly before standing up.

“I’ll see myself out.”

You didn’t move until you heard the front door slam, feeling your lips tug up in a smile. You would have to thank Mei Mei profusely for her recommendation. And now you understood that she didn’t exaggerate the effectiveness of this escort service.

This was definitely not the last time you would be seeing Fushiguro Toji.

[theemporium]

Hya! Dunno if you’re comfortable with it but can I request professor! Remus Lupin x college student! fem reader? like a super smutty smut where they both want each other badly but have to pretend they don’t and then they fuck

also, can I be 🍰 anon?

of course you can be, baby, the 🍰 is yours! and thank you for requesting!🖤

.

Everyone had their crushes. 

It wasn’t wrong to have feelings for someone, especially if you never acted on them. It was just a simple admiration of the person. From the way they looked to the way they acted to the way they spoke, it was just a simple admiration that made your stomach feel like it was bursting with butterflies and nothing more.

It just so happened that your crush was your professor of a class you didn’t even want to take. 

You needed to fill out your credit requirement for the term and you were grasping at straws when you realised your choices lied between a class with your old friend group, a class with your shitty ex-boyfriend and a class you couldn’t care less about. 

So obviously you chose the third one. 

However, what you weren’t expecting was a handsome man to walk through the door, briefcase in hand and blazer thrown over his other arm, and announce himself as your professor for the term. He didn’t look much older than you, maybe only five years at most if you were guessing (you would later realise it was a bit more than that). But all it took was one glance from the man and you were a flustered mess. 

It didn’t help that his class was difficult and you spent the few moments where you weren’t admiring Remus Lupin, being absolutely fucking confused. 

Your confusion led to many nights like such, huddled in the depths of the library at a late, ungodly hour. You were tucked away near the back, piles of books around you and not a single other human in sight.

You stared at the pages in front of you, the letters and numbers were starting to blur together and you weren’t any closer to figuring the assignment out. At least not tonight, but you were far too stubborn to give up. 

“If you stare any harder, you might set the textbook on fire.” 

You almost jumped out of your seat, your knee knocking against the table as you spun around to find Professor Lupin leaning against the bookshelves, looking at you with a mixed expression of curiosity and amusement. 

“Professor Lupin,” you murmured and cleared your throat, almost painfully aware of the messy state you were in. “What are you doing here?” 

“Is a library not open to everyone?” he asked, his brows raised.

Your cheeks heated up. “Well, yes—”

“Maybe I should be asking you what you are doing here,” Remus continued as he took a few steps towards the table you were sitting at. “It’s a Saturday night. Surely a young student like you has more interesting things to do than spend her time in the library.”

“I wanted a headstart on the assignment,” you mumbled out, almost embarrassed. 

Remus paused beside your chair and you were almost too aware of his presence. He glanced over your shoulder, reading over the textbook page and then the notes you had scribbled down, though most of it was incoherent. 

“You never told me you were struggling with the content,” he said, his brows furrowed together like the mere fact annoyed him.

“I…uh, I didn’t wanna bother you,” you admitedd, though you realised how stupid your excuse was before he even gave you a pointed look.

“I want to help my students,” Remus said, looking down at you with such intensity in his eyes that it made you squirm in your seat. “I don’t like seeing you struggle.” 

“Right,” you breathed out, blinking slowly. 

Neither one of you broke away from the eye contact, just staying locked in that moment. And then just when you thought he was going to look away—to turn away—his gaze dropped down to your slightly parted lips.

“Tell me you don’t feel it,” he whispered, his voice a little huskier now.

Your brows scrunched together. “What?” 

“Tell me you don’t feel whatever this is,” he said again, a little more determined this time. “Tell me you don’t feel it and I’ll walk away. I’ll leave you alone and stop convincing myself that maybe there is something.” 

You waited a beat, watching the way his shoulders tensed as he impatiently awaited your answer.

“I could say I don’t feel it,” you whispered and you could have sworn something in his expression broke. “But I would be lying.” 

Remus looked at you, he really fucking looked at you. There were a million different voices in his head screaming for him to just walk away. To just tell you his office hours and tell you to pop in if you had any questions about the course. He should just turn on his heel and walk out of the library before he did something he regretted. 

But what was one more regret in his life?

“Fuck it,” he grumbled under his breath as he took your face in his hands and kissed you.

It was fast-paced, messy and passionate but you wanted nothing more. You didn’t even realise he swiped your belongings off the table until his hands were gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you onto the table and standing between your legs.

“This is wrong,” he murmured against your lips, trailing down the expanse of your neck.

“I know,” you breathed out, your head falling back as his teeth light scraped against your skin.

“Tell me to stop,” he groaned as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. 

“Fuck me, sir,” you whined, your glossy eyes meeting his darkened gaze and whatever self-restraint he had quickly disappeared.

“Shit, baby,” Remus moaned as his fingers worked fast, pushing the fabric of your skirt until it pooled at your waist. His fingers tugged your panties down, pocketing them before his hands softly squeezed your inner thighs.

“Touch me, please,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his before your fingers tangled themselves into his messy brown hair and pulled him into a kiss. 

“Gotta stay quiet for me, darling,” he warned you, still acutely aware of the other people loitering around the library at this time. You both could get caught and get into so much trouble. He could lose his job and you could lose your place at the university, but neither one of you seemed to care all that much as your fingers nimbly undid the button of his trousers and slipped past the waistband to cup his cock. 

“Fuck,” you murmured, almost a little dazed like you hadn’t mean to speak aloud. “You’re big.” 

The smirk on his face was smug. “You can take it,” he told you, his hand cupping your face as your eyes met his once again. “Gonna take it like a good girl, aren’t you?” 

You nodded dumbly. 

“Atta girl,” he groaned before he pushed his trousers down to his knees, his boxers quickly following as he fisted his hard cock, giving himself a few strokes before he stepped further before your legs. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping them locked around him as he slowly slid inside you. Your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt, a pathetic whimper leaving your lips as he bottomed out inside you. 

“Sir,” you gasped out as he slid out before his hips roughly thrusted back into you. 

“Shh, baby, you can take it,” his whispered praises washed over you, settling a warmth in the pit of your stomach. “You’re doing so well for me.” 

His lips were on yours again when your moans and whimpers became too loud and he feared somebody would hear you. His hands gripped your waist, your body jolting with every thrust as your nails clawed at any inch of him you could get your hands on. Your walls squeezed around him, tight and warm and so fucking welcoming that he never wanted to leave. 

And he couldn’t bring himself to do so even after you finally came, following himself seconds later as you both stayed there, propped on the edge of the table with Remus still deep inside you. 

“Sir—”

“Remus,” he corrected as he pressed a bruising kiss to your lips. “Call me Remus when I’m inside you, baby.”

.

[wtftarot]

PAC: The Sun

The Sun stands as the counterpart to the Moon. Representing clarity, the Sun leaves nothing in shadow. It speaks of blessings and growth. What do you need to learn from the Sun today? Let's fuck around and find out.

As always this reading is meant for entertainment purposes only and is not a substitute for professional advice in any way. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.

Masterlist

Pick the Sunflowers, the Kid or the Horse and head on to your reading.

The Sunflowers page cups Rx, Justice, 7 swords, the Fool, three cups, the hierophant Rx, temperance rx

A lot of things are lookin hazy for y'all, huh group one? The energy here is super interesting. First, y'all are entering an era that will redefine what you think it means to have a balanced life. You'll figure out what it means for you specifically. Which is awesome but that's not the focal point of your reading. There's something here that feels very sneaky, not in a harmful sorta way, more like a heist. It's like you're heisting yourself back. I fuckin love that. I think y'all may have lost yourself or a part of yourself somewhere along the way. The cards aren't saying how or why, which I feel is significant. While whatever happened had its impact, it's so much less important than this, than you, finding yourself again. Now you're scheming and plotting ways to get yourself back and it's beautiful. There's so much excitement and joy here. You may still have to hide them because of circumstances outside of your control but you're not burying them. You should feel absofuckinlutly no shame about it, fyi. You had to adapt, that's all. Now though, you are plotting and planning yourself towards a life that you don't have to adapt yourself to. The clarity you're getting is clarity of self. Things in your life feel a little hazy and off because they kinda are. You only "fit" your life as it is now because you lost those parts of yourself. Things were always 'off'. You edited yourself to what the situation called for. So, as you find yourself, you won't 'fit' the roles in life you used to. You're stepping into a life that gets you. A life where those parts of you are celebrated. Moving forward you may not get many satisfactory answers from sources outside of yourself on what to do. That's cause this is a time where you are creating the answers. You may find yourself doing a lot of inner-child work in the next few months. Deconstructing outdated teachings, or just seeing through bullshit you once thought to be true. Your awareness of when you are or are not acting in favor of your true self is being heightened. Now, this all feels like the inner-shift that has to happen before the external changes. So, you may wanna seek out some alone time or journal your thoughts cause I'm willing to bet you'll be having some epiphanies or ah-ha moments. This is awesome, babe. It's gonna be beautiful to see.

random ass vibes: Cats, 8,888, the wizard of oz, My Chemical Romance, shout out to all y'all with adhd/autism. religious upbringing? Red, "you can't buy happiness- steal it", goldenrod, something about acrylic nails? first time getting them? owls.

The Kid

The Sun rx, Nine of Swords Rx, Four of Cups Rx, Page of Wands, Knight of Cups, Eight of Wands Rx, Nine of Wands Rx, King of Swords Rx

This reading was interesting as hell to do. The short version is: Y'all are intuitive, you're just not letting yourselves simply BE intuitive. You try to force things or second-guess others and it's fucking you over. 

There is a message that you may be spending too much on different divination tools when you don't need them. This reading is cool and frustrating. I had to walk away from your cards because every time I tried to read them, the message was muddled and contradicting itself? I'm writing this a day later because now that I'm not trying to force it, it's flowing like the goddamn Mississippi. I didn't even plan to get back to your reading yet. It's like 6,7 am? I was just drinking my coffee and the reading became clear. Which is the whole ass point of your reading. Everyone has different intuitive psychic skills and different skill levels but if y'all chose this group? Y'all are pretty fuckin psychic. Or you could be if you got over some self-doubt and shit. When I said you're not letting yourselves be intuitive, I mean you may be relying too much on divination tools and signs instead of your intuition. You can strengthen your intuitive gifts, and learn to interpret them more accurately but you can't force it. It seems like you've become so focused on trying to pick up on things psychically, that you're not even living in the moment anymore. Which leads us to the other side of this coin. When you're determined to know and see more when there's nothing there, you can start to take your anxieties for hits cause they're the only thing you got. It's sorta like how when you're looking into a dark space, and you start seeing things that ain't there. Which understandably makes you freaked out, then when the anxieties don't come true you doubt yourself cause your "intuition" was wrong. Truth is not everything is a sign or a hit. Sometimes a number's just a number and a bird's just a bird. A bad feeling in your gut is just your gut feeling bad. Truth also is sometimes true psychic hits are kinda dumb, most of the hits I get regularly are just my cat needing something. It's okay if your intuition is just when produce is on sale. You ARE psychic. You're also human. All of this is confusing and that's okay. We're always confused until we figure things out. This all came out with the Sun in reverse because y'all expect your intuition to be clear the way your other senses are clear. You're looking outside of yourself for something that dwells inside of you. The advice here is to learn to trust your inner instincts. I keep hearing "Play psychic games". Scry out what animals you're going to see the next day. Try to intuit what suit a card is before you turn it over. Being psychic isn't (always) foreshadowing doom, it can be super fun. Try to get readings on non-serious topics. Let your intuition flow and play.

y'all have no random ass vibes because you need to stop relying on external confirmation of your intuition.

The Horse

This reading may be triggering, I'm not sure if feelings of not deserving love are a trigger but just to be safe. If you struggle with depression, anxiety, or the like please seek professional help. I'm just a chick with a computer and a deck of cards. Remember, don't do anything to compromise your safety.

I took some time between readings, and leading up to your reading horses kept popping up everywhere. I knew this reading would be different. I did pull some cards, but they feel unnecessary because y'all's guides are just talking to me. Why are y'all so convinced you won't get a happy ending? Mind out of the gutter, please. Thank you. You seem to be utterly convinced that you will never have a solid, safe, joyful life? "None of that is for me" is what I keep hearing. It's like there is one way to be happy, one sort of life that leads to happiness, and if you do not conform to that you're just doomed to die alone in squalor? There's this energy of I cannot do things my way and be happy. I can't be myself and loved. I just heard " I don't get to.." As in I don't get to be myself. I don't get to be loved. I don't know who made you feel that way but they better fucking hope I never see them. Or better yet, hope that future you never meets them. Cause sweetie, this reading? It's about your comeback. And HOLY FUCK YALL THIS WILL BE A HELL OF A COMEBACK. There's this overwhelming feeling of happy, unbridled defiance rearing its head in you. If you haven't felt it yet, you will soon babe don't worry. This may just be a heads-up. Defiance in the face of every fucking thing that makes you feel like you'll never get what you want. SPITE. That's what yall are embracing. I FUCKING LOVE THIS ENERGY YALL. SPITE IS MY ENTIRE LIFE PHILOSOPHY. This may be sort of a "villain era" for you. You're gonna be spitting in the face of everything that made you feel like you'd never be enough. YOU ARE ENOUGH. I want to be clear, you're not going to wake up and suddenly be immune to all the bullshit you've been told. You are however going to wake up and decide to live in defiance of what people have told you. That's why it'll feel sort of villainous, you may not feel like you deserve happiness (yet, give it time). BUT is 'deserving" it going to stop you? HELL NO! This is giving happiness is the best revenge. Those fuckers saying you can't be you and loved? They're gonna have to sit and WATCH YOU. And you get the pleasure of shoving your success, your happiness DOWN THIER FUCKING THROATS. Sometimes, you have to move towards things before you feel deserving or ready, so you can learn to feel deserving and ready. It's gonna take some work and strategizing, (y'all may wanna chat with some of the people in group one) I am so fucking pumped for y'all. If y'all don't feel this energy yet, you will soon I promise. In the meantime, maybe make a happy-upbeat revenge/spite playlist. Cause above all, this is about being HAPPY.

Random ass vibes: Danger Days, snakes, cats, 666, y'all may wanna look up Hopepunk, zombies,

[cocogum]

The Great Wave - Chapter 1 Review

‼️ SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER ‼️

Warning(s): mature themes, descriptive language, proceed with caution.

Before I start, I'd like to say that I initially added a lot more to this, but since tumblr had to censor it, I had to level it down a little...

I guess I just got carried away with it because of yumalia lol

So yeah...hope tumblr doesn't flag this again....

Alright everyone you know the drill.

LET’S ALL GET IT OUT OF OUR SYSTEMS AND GO CRAZY OVER HOW THESE TWO FUCKED SO MANY TIMES‼️‼️‼️‼️

Good job you two honestly I’m so happy these two got to have fun together like this 🥰🥰

Like no joke the first time I started to read the first chapter, of all the ways I thought it would start, I DIDN’T THINK THEY’D BE FUCKING I legit thought I was interrupting them my god-

I was so SHOCKED wtf??????!!!!

Like yes but what????

Ankama wasn’t kidding when they said they’d go mature mode and INSTANTLY cram in adult themes. The unexpected (but still warned) change was so sudden that that’s how you know Ankama has been keeping themselves tamed in the seasons because they couldn’t pull this shit off so easily like Japan.

Now let’s analyze the first thing that’s in the very first chapter.

The s** 👹👹

Okay I know how laughably this sounds because the FIRST THING in the first volume that we get to see is Yugo and Amalia’s private time.

And I’m not ashamed of loving it. Even now I still can’t believe that this can literally be considered soft corn. I won’t be surprised if more than half of the chapter ended up on that infamous site 💀(if u know, u know)

By the way I love how Amalia’s hair grew cuz I was starting to get sick of seeing her with a short ponytail all the time AND I LOVE HOW WE FINALLY SEE HER UNTYING HER HAIR CUZ MAN ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE SEEN HER LET HER HAIR OUT

But their private moment(s) really made us understand just how much they care for one another. The way that they are sleeping together NAKED like this so comfortably too confirms that they have done these kinds of activities before.

The ambiance and the colors truly encapsulate the tranquility and peacefulness they both share in this moment. You can even feel the sunshine’s rays touching your skin.

AND I’M ALL HERE FOR IT. They genuinely look so cute and in love together like that I just wanna tear that blanket away and dhskdkfkksskskkdksksd.

If anyone is wondering why Yugo still keeps the dofus on him, it’s because the dragon, Rodalström, that Armand defeated is still alive. A necrome can never truly die so Yugo has to essentially keep the dofus on him at all times just in case the dragon would set free someday (i feel so bad for Qilby due to this decision…dude is the only one between his siblings who can hear these two banging💀)

While looking through these same pages over and over again (I still haven’t stopped), I began to seriously wonder what kind of positions they would do together.

We’ve seen two particular positions they have used in this chapter and it was the “lotus” position and the “woman on top” position.

These are very accurate positions for these two mainly because of the level of intimacy it provides. It’s not rough, extravagant, or even too lewd. It’s simply just right.

They are so intimate with one another that they even hug while keeping the pace. And I think it is wonderful to see these two just being happy and satisfied in each other’s arms like this.

It's such a sweet moment for these two that you really can't look away (i'm definitely not saying this to justify why I keep overfixating these panels). You can even see Yugo choosing to keep his eyes open during it all just to look at Amalia enjoying it.

My guy clearly loves the view please!! 😫😫😫

You don't think seeing her liking it makes him even more excited righ-

Some parts during their intimate moment had their arms, which were groping A LOT of things, somewhat censored by the blankets they still had on each other. So, to have a clearer view of what happened under the sheets, I decided to outline their covered arms to give you an idea of where those hands went.

At the very beginning, Yugo is woken up by Amalia kissing his cheek. But after that, his body looks much more awake when we see a panel of Amalia's hand under the covers reaching for something. This immediately makes Yugo wide awake, to the point where he's already sweating a bit and blushing very hard as he says, "You're...tireless!"

After some outlining made by yours truly, it was painfully obvious where Amalia was reaching for and- DEBHUHUFUWHYUHFUYHUWUEFHUWHFUEFHUEWH

GURL STOP OMG SHE'S TOO BOLD I CAN'T WITH HER I LOVE HER OMG SHE KNOWS WHERE TO REACH YES DO IT WAKE HIM UP!!!!

The fact that she instantly knew what to do when she wasn't getting enough attention from him after that cheek kiss alone sends me 😭😭

But it's not like Yugo's the innocent one here for not trying anything. On the contrary, HE'S TOUCHING HER TOO.

THAT GUY KNOWS WHAT'S BEST TO GRAB.

He's a man after all, so what'd you expect lol

He KNOWS that her ass is THICK, SO WHY WOULD HE NOT TOUCH ONE OF HER BEST ASSETS!?!?!?

You can tell these two obviously do more than just two “sleeping” positions, but since they were messing around in the morning, I can give them a pass for being sweet and tender with each other at this moment, just this once. They must've done A LOT more yesterday night since Yugo did say she was tireless as soon as he woke up. These two are adventurers at heart, so why wouldn't they explore each other more thoroughly-

Given that we’ve only seen the "lotus," the "woman on top," and a simple embrace, I would like to suggest a few more positions that would suit them well. These recommended positions are so accurate to them and reflect their dynamic that I wouldn’t be surprised if they have done these before (or will eventually 👀).

While nitpicking every single panel of their “morning routine” I learned two things thanks to this start:

1) Yugo’s a bottom but is able to switch.

2) Amalia is insatiable in bed. Girl is hungry HUNGRY. Because judging from how Yugo and her were fully naked and laying in bed in the beginning, that means they had finished screwing with each other a while ago BEFORE AMALIA JUST JUMPS BACK INTO IT. SHE’S LITERALLY TIRING OUT A DEMIGOD ALIEN JUST FROM GROPING AND TAKING HIM-

If a scene like this wasn’t what I thought would happen at the beginning of the first chapter, then Amalia getting choked to death had definitely thrown me off guard. Like many other readers, I already knew that this wasn’t actually real and was only happening in Yugo’s head but it still felt very off-putting to see her struggling to breathe. The way Yugo panicked and tried to help only for him to scream and cry when he realized she was on the verge of dying was powerful.

And that’s when we find the anomaly in this chapter.

The dragon that appeared in Yugo’s head.

I initially expected Toross to be the one tormenting Yugo but I guess it ended up being this dragon.

The dragon figure seems to feel severe hatred for Yugo for all the calamities he let happen in the World of Twelve and how he seems to be living a good life at the moment while having the six primordial eliatrope Dofus and the Eliasphere in his possession.

The theories immediately started flooding in on who this dragon could possibly be and here’s what people came up with:

A) The dragon is one of the six primordial dragons from the World of Twelve named Grougalorasalar.

He’s the guardian of the Eben dofus and used to have been sealed in Joris during the Dofus era. Some have theorized this dragon to be him because of how physically similar they look.

Although he looks identical, there is no logical reasoning to support his hostility towards Yugo, let alone his ability to infiltrate his mind. Furthermore, the way he acts and thinks around Yugo, assuming it is actually him, is illogical given his involvement in Ogrest's rampage.

B) This dragon is, in actuality, Draconiros, the dragon of dreams.

His job is to govern the dreams and nightmares of the twelvians. People suspect he might have taken the form of Grougalorasalar while talking to Yugo.

Despite never meeting Yugo, he could have watched over the twelvians through their dreams. This means that he might have seen Oropo's dreams, as well as Yugo's own, giving him insight into Yugo's future actions and indirectly caused consequences. If true, this theory would explain why he holds a grudge against Yugo. It currently stands as the most compelling theory among all others.

C) The Great Dragon. Yugo’s father could be the one able to invade his mind and blame him for all sorts of things.

It's hard to ignore the fact that the Great Dragon appears to have been absent during some of the biggest catastrophes in the Krosmoz. Despite countless calamities happening all around the world, the Great Dragon seemed to have done nothing to prevent them, nor did he even show up to witness them. This is why his presence felt non-existent in the world. If he doesn't care about the world, why would he have any interest in what Yugo has done?

D) Osamodas himself could be the one speaking to Yugo while taking the form of Grougalorasalar.

It's worth considering that Yugo may face blame from the god of beasts. Additionally, it's intriguing to note that the osamodas race will play a significant role later on. This is evident from Aurora and her family's return to the Sadida kingdom.

So far, these are the only theories out there that we have for this dragon. That, and the fact that it might as well be a whole new character that we haven’t seen before.

The thing that truly makes this interaction between Yugo and the unknown dragon feel severe is the fact that the dragon tells him that despite sharing dragon blood, he truly detests him.

Imagine having to know that a millennial dragon hates you despite sharing the same blood.

Of course, the interaction couldn’t have stayed for very long because Amalia immediately interrupted it by screaming Yugo’s name. Yugo looks completely out of it, huddled up and shaking in fear. I understand that he saw what could be a future threat but this whole situation must’ve looked so off-putting from Amalia’s perspective: they were fucking, they started levitating because of the six eliatrope Dofus residing in him, and then they both suddenly fell on the floor and she saw Yugo curled up and crying, freaking the fuck out.

Amalia doesn’t understand but she still goes to him and immediately tries to calm him down by embracing him. But despite everything he’s seen and the fact that he interacted with a mysterious dangerous beast, the first thing that Yugo says amidst his crying is: “I thought I lost you…”

Look at the sheer terror in his eyes.

He genuinely looks like he thought he lost everything at this very moment. His body is shaking and is still processing what he just saw and heard.

He even APOLOGIZES to her, thinking that seeing her dying in his arms was somehow his fault.

Her life is such a huge priority for him that that’s immediately the first thing he’s afraid he’ll lose the most.

That’s when Amalia suddenly says the words: “Calm down, it was just a dream.”

…

A dream??

You mean to tell me that this whole time, Yugo was sleeping?

So this whole “wrestling” scene never happened?

I believe there’s been some kind of misunderstanding when we first read this chapter.

I feel like we thought Yugo and Amalia had been messing with each other in the morning and that’s when Yugo suddenly received a flash of imagery and words from the unknown dragon before Amalia snapped him out of it and that’s how they ended up on the floor together.

But it turns out that wasn’t technically what happened.

Because if this intimate scene was real, then why would Amalia say he had dreamt?

I believe this is what actually happened:

Yugo and Amalia were peacefully sleeping together after spending the night awake (because what do you think a fully naked couple does in bed). When morning arose, that’s when Yugo started having a wet dream of Amalia and him getting in on again and right when things were starting to get better for Yugo, the dream started to twist itself and change out of its own will, forcing the one good thing about the dream to leave, which was Amalia, by making her choke to death to finally reveal the dragon. The dragon haunts his mind and spills his hateful thoughts to the eliatrope causing him to suffer alone until Amalia snaps him awake and manages to unknowingly free him from the torment. Yugo must’ve fallen on the floor while having the nightmare and Amalia simply got down from the bed to wake him up.

(this still doesn’t change the things I said about the types of positions they have, how Amalia has her own nicknames for Yugo like ‘little princess’, and how Amalia is in bed though because dreams often depict and copy real-life behaviors from the mind of the person dreaming. it’s actually funny that Yugo had a WET DREAM about Amalia and him. despite getting so much action with her, his mind doesn’t leave her alone lol)

When she regards his shaking form that it was only a dream, however, Yugo insists how real it felt. That’s when he decides to stand up and claim he needs some air to think. The fact that he has said the same thing back in Season 4 Episode 1 when he had Oropo in his head, shows how his insistence of wanting to be alone after getting scarred, has become a pattern.

Amalia understandably (and predictably) gets angry at Yugo for leaving but her behavior also raises a few questions. Does this mean she’s angry that he wants to be alone every time he gets nightmares? Does he receive incessant nightmares on some nights? If that’s the case, then how often does this keep occurring? Or is this the first time he does this? Is she angry because he tends to quickly leave when he thinks he needs to deal with something on his own like how he did in Seasons 2 and 4?

Regardless of what the case may be, Amalia doesn’t waste time and immediately dresses herself up with her vines like a boss ass Queen just look at how refined and elegant she looks while changing✨✨ I love her so much 💕💕

Also vinillain noticed how these two dumbasses don’t HAVE ANY BEDROOM DOORS. How do they actually get any privacy if their bedroom has a huge ass hole with no door?? It’s so bare that it doesn’t even have a curtain to cover the front of their room!! Like did these two not realize that literally anyone can just get right in their room? I get that they’re royals so they would know that no one would be this dumb enough to simply get in like that but the entrance of the room is so big and wide that anyone can just pass through it and be able to see their bed from where they’re standing!! You can even see the bed frame right there in just that panel for crying out loud!! I get that the sadidas are a pretty open race BUT THEY’RE NOT THAT OPEN TO EACH OTHER-

Besides this stupid choice of not having any doors, I love how the kingdom made a few adjustments to the throne room because they initially only had one seat. Even when Armand was king, there was still one place. Aurora had to sit in a small space next to him lol. Note that Aurora used to sit on the right side like how Yugo has to do now.

I already talked about this to vinillain but I told them that because of how the throne was arranged when it got split into two, I feel like the ones who sit on the right are the ones who come from other kingdoms aka if they’re from another race. I believe that the reason why the throne had only been one seat in Seasons 1, 2, and the ovas, was because the only ruler at the time was King Oakheart. The ruling seat might have also been divided in two when the queen was still alive. Amalia might as well have simply chosen to sit in Armand’s place because it used to be his which would be cute if that was the case.

I like to think that Yugo deserves sitting in Aurora’s place because he’s submissive-

Speaking of Armand, the mural wall that Amalia made the artist make was such a wonderful decision. She really did love her brother despite the many quarrels they used to have.

This man entered the legend ❤️

After the interaction between Amalia and the painter, I noticed the royal advisor (or so I think) about to approach Amalia with something to discuss. Despite not having entered the throne room yet to listen to her people's grievances, the advisor seems to have something confidential to share with her, as he didn't choose to wait until she got there. Although we don't know what that "something" could be, Amalia immediately stops him, explaining that she just got out of bed and needs time to process everything.

I think we'll see what that 'something' could be about in the next chapter, though. Looking at the crowd awaiting Yugo and Amalia in the throne room to discuss their business with them, I have a strong feeling some of those problems would involve the elite eliatropes.

We can even see how the mood in the throne room looked very tense between the sadidas and the eliatropes. Some of the sadidas looked perturbed, and there's a good chance they're acting this way because of the eliatropes. Not only that, but the eliatrope kids looked super uncomfortable because of the tension going on. Even a sadida was eyeing an eliatrope in a pretty judgemental way (you can see it on the right panel).

They were all waiting for Amalia and Yugo so they could speak about their problems to the two royals so I wouldn't be surprised if some problems would be about the eliatropes staying.

I understand that when we last saw the sadidas, they were pretty much okay fighting alongside the eliatropes during the war against the necromes. But that was because it was a war. They were extremely short-handed, so they were perfectly fine with having them by their side. But now that the war is over, it's possible that many of them feel a bit awkward having to share their lands with eliatropes. Imagine living on these lands since the dawn of time and you suddenly have to live with people who are not even from your planet one day.

In short, Yugo and Amalia should get more intimate moments, the dragon in the dream has a good chance of being Draconiros, Yugo should stop dealing with his problems on his own, Armand is a chad, the two royal seats scream power couple goals, I need that sadida and eliatrope drama, and I’m waiting on what the advisor has to say.

@geekgirles @onyichii

[starboyyoongi]

reckless. min yoongi au

⭑ summary: a dinner date with friends takes a turn for the worst when yoongi finds out something that he wasn’t supposed to know about.

⭑ pairings: min yoongi x black!female reader

⭑ warnings/tags: mentions of blood and murder, cursing but not too much, mafia!namjoon, mafia!jimin, reader is the head of the mafia, reader doesn’t make an appearance

⭑ notes: this is a super condensed drabble-like version of a fic idea that i have that isn’t completely fleshed out nor is it written yet. i thought about keeping the fic to myself until i actually wrote it, but decided that i wanna share it in small drabble-like increments like this instead (: (kind of like my own little way of getting my creative juices flowing i guess). feel free to leave your thoughts and i hope that you guys enjoy! x

THIS IS SO fucking boring, yoongi thought to himself as he dropped his gaze to his paper once more.

he couldn’t tell you what page they were on nor could he tell you what they were even talking about. all yoongi knew was that he was going to have a lot of catching up to do once the meeting was over and he was not looking forward to it at all. his mind starts to drift once more and he wonders how you did it. how were you able to pay attention in these meetings? how were you able to stay awake without banging your head against the table every five seconds? how were you able to do this back to back for sometimes a week straight?

yoongi will admit that he underestimated this part of the job. when things were initially thrusted onto him months ago, he found himself worrying about everything under the sun; how to talk to the other executives, how to manage the company’s payroll - shit, he was even worried about the plants in the lobby. it was silly, yes, but yoongi was truly clueless about his new position.

he still remembers the relief he felt when he was told that he’d be having someone guide him along for the first few weeks. it was one of the many things that you had set up before your sudden departure and yoongi couldn’t have been more thankful.

but the meetings.

god, the fucking meetings.

that was something that he wasn’t prepared for at all.

yoongi had no problem talking.

despite how nerve wracking it could be at times, yoongi was a natural at talking in meetings. so much so that he’s lead a couple of them himself and had everyone in the room singing him praises for days afterwards. talking was the last thing that min yoongi ever had to worry about in a meeting.

no, what was really his problem - his achilles heel, if you will - was having to hear others talk for long periods of time. he hated it. no, he despised it. yoongi despised how much time he had to waste listening to a room full of men drone on and on about things that they clearly didn’t care about let alone took time to read up on - another thing that he had come to hate about the meetings, too. seeing the look of shock on the other executives and assistants faces whenever he spoke was enough for yoongi to know that he was the only one in the room who actually knew what he was talking about.

he softly scoffed and shook his head.

what a bunch of morons, he thought.

yoongi’s mind was about to wander off again, but his thoughts came to a sudden halt when the lights flickered back on and the projector began to get shut down. breathing out a sigh of relief, he pushed his chair back and glanced around the room. the meeting was finally over.

yoongi stood up and began to gather his things which wasn’t much to begin with. a few of the associates started to come up to him and greet him before striking up meaningless conversation. he answered back with a small smile on his face and feigned interest in his voice; this was nothing but routine as usual for him. after another five minutes of fake smiles and promises of catching up over some lunch and golf, yoongi was finally able to leave.

as soon as he stepped inside of his office, yoongi threw his things down on the nearby coffee table and took a seat on the couch. just as he was about to shift into a comfortable position to lay down in, there was a knock at his door. he contemplated over whether or not he should answer.

maybe if i stay quiet they’ll go away, the tired man thought to himself.

“mr min? are you in there?” a familiar voice called out, words slightly muffled by the door.

yoongi sighed.

“yes, jongho, come in,” he replied.

jongho, his assistant, poked his head through the crack in the door and smiled before walking in. yoongi took note of the papers in the younger man’s hands and silently prayed that they weren’t for him. he couldn’t handle any more paperwork for the day.

“you look like shit.” jongho said as he took a seat across from yoongi who was now sporting an irritated look on his face.

“wow, jongho, thank you so much for noticing. anything else you wanna point out?” yoongi asked in a sarcastic tone.

jongho giggled and shook his head before saying, “i’m just messing with you, sir. seriously, though, you look pretty tired. is everything okay?”

yoongi nodded and replied, “i’m fine. that meeting just sucked the life out of me is all.”

“figures. i saw lee on my way here and had a feeling that the meeting was shit as usual.”

“that bastard never knows what he’s talking about yet still shows up and wastes everyone’s time. why do we keep doing business with him anyways?”

“he’s an investor, mr min. but if it makes you feel better, y/n didn’t like him either. she always hoped that he’d have an accident and wouldn’t show up.”

“of course she did,” yoongi muttered with a small smile upon hearing your name. “anyways, what’s up? are those papers for me?”

“no, no, these are for me. i just came in here to remind you that you have dinner with kim and park tonight” jongho said.

“thank you, i almost forgot about it. the dinner’s at eight, right?” yoongi asked as he rose to a standing position.

jongho followed suit as he answered, “yes. do you need me to get anything for you to bring later?”

“no, that’s okay,” yoongi said with a wave of his hand. “we’re eating at jimin’s anyways and i usually don’t bring anything, so.”

jongho nodded in response. “alright then, sounds good. i have to go and fax these documents, but is there anything else that you need from me?” he asked.

yoongi shook his head and waved his hand once more, signaling to jongho that he was free to go. once the door was closed shut, he settled into his chair and logged back into his computer. as he waited for the screen to load, he glanced at the time, but quickly wished that he hadn’t.

12:45 PM.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…” yoongi muttered.

⭑ ⭑ ⭑ ⭑

maybe it was the long day that he had or maybe it was the glass of whiskey that he had before he came, but yoongi was almost positive that there was something wrong with his eyesight. he blinked once, twice, three times before he glanced at namjoon then at jimin then back at namjoon once more. the older of the two casually sipped away at his champagne while the younger wiped his red stained hand with a napkin.

sucking in a breath, yoongi asked, “are you two going to tell me what the fuck is going on or am i supposed to pretend that i don’t see all of… this in front me?”

silence.

“hello? i know that you two heard me. answer my question” yoongi said, annoyance clear in his voice.

silence.

yoongi’s grip on his wine glass tightened.

“answer me right now or i swear to fucking god—” yoongi started saying, but he was cut off by namjoon who finally decided to speak.

“i’m not the one who’s covered in blood here. if anything, jimin should be the one to explain himself.” namjoon spoke.

jimin scoffed and quickly replied, “you may not be covered in blood, but the both of us are responsible for spilling it.”

yoongi’s eyes widened at jimin’s words.

“excuse me? what is he talking about? what are you talking about, jimin?” yoongi asked as he looked between the two.

his words, however, fell on deaf ears. neither namjoon nor jimin were paying attention to him. the pair was too busy bickering with one another and throwing around curse words instead.

“why the fuck didn’t you clean yourself up afterwards? you knew we were having dinner tonight.”

“you say it as if i purposely decided to show up in bloody clothes.”

“did you not? you’re literally sitting at the dinner table looking like you just finished slaughtering a fucking pig.”

“i mean, well, technically i did slaughter a pig tonight. so…”

now yoongi was really confused.

“wait, you— you slaughtered a pig before dinner? the two of you?” he asked in a confused tone.

“no, yoongi,” jimin said with a sigh. he looked away from namjoon then to yoongi as he continued. “we didn’t- i didn’t kill a literal pig tonight. i killed a man.”

yoongi couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“you killed… a man.”

“yes.”

“and now you’re covered in blood.”

“yes.”

“his blood. that man’s blood.”

“yes.”

“not a pig’s blood?”

“not a pig’s blood,” jimin confirmed before chuckling. “jeez, why are you acting like you’ve never seen someone covered in blood before? did y/n not come home looking like this?”

yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed. he shook his head and said, “no. she didn’t. why would she come home looking like that anyways?”

now it was namjoon and jimin’s turn to be confused. they glanced at one another before turning to look at yoongi who looked just as, if not more, confused as they did.

“yoongi, do you…” namjoon started slowly, pausing for a moment to think about what he was going to say. “do you know what y/n does? like, what she really does?”

“she runs the company that her father left for her,” yoongi answered almost immediately. “why? is there another company that she’s running or something?”

jimin jumped in and said, “not a company per se. more like a… a business of some sort. well, businesses.”

“businesses?” yoongi parroted. “what do you mean by ‘businesses’? namjoon, what the hell is jimin talking about? matter of fact, no, what the hell are you two trying to get at? what’s going on?”

jimin and namjoon looked at each other once again, this time with an unreadable expression on their faces. a sudden wave of anxiety washed over yoongi as he watched the pair with curiosity. he didn’t know it then, but what was about to come out of their mouths would ring in his ears for days to come.

“yoongi,” jimin started in a low, serious tone. “i’m not sure what y/n told you, but… the company isn’t the only thing that her father left for her. nor is she just the head of it.”

namjoon continued in the same tone, “y/n isn’t just another name in the business world, yoongi. she is the sole heir of the jade dragons.”

yoongi’s stomach started to turn.

“heir? she’s the heir?” yoongi muttered.

namjoon nodded in response.

“heir… so that means that she’s…” yoongi couldn’t say it. his tongue felt heavy and it was like the words were all of a sudden stuck in his throat.

he started shaking his head in disbelief.

this had to be some kind of sick and twisted joke, right?

“no,” yoongi said with his voice raised. “no, you’re lying, namjoon. you have to be. you have to be fucking lying to me right now.”

yoongi suddenly stood up from his chair, prompting namjoon and jimin to the same. jimin glanced at the wine glass that yoongi hadn’t put down since the conversation started and noticed how much tighter he was gripping it. it looked like it was about to break any second.

“yoongi, i know you’re in shock right now,” jimin said in a worried tone. “but i think that you should put the glass down. you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“that’s what you’re concerned about? and not the fact that you two have been fucking lying to me this entire time?” yoongi asked in disbelief.

“yes. i mean, no. i mean— look, i can explain everything, okay? i just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“tell me it isn’t true.”

“yoongi, i…”

“tell me it isn’t true, jimin.”

“i can’t… yoongi, i can’t.”

no.

“jimin, i swear to fucking god. tell me right now that it isn’t true.”

please, jimin.

“it’s true, yoongi.”

please.

“no. it can’t be.”

please.

“it is, yoongi. it’s true. we’re not lying.”

please.

the sound of the wine glass suddenly breaking filled the room. yoongi could barely register the small pieces of glass that were now digging into his skin and drawing blood. namjoon reached across the table to assess yoongi’s hand, but he moved his hand away and stepped back.

“she’s the head now, isn’t she? she’s the head of the jade dragons.” yoongi spoke quietly.

namjoon lowered his head and sighed before making a noise in agreement.

yoongi opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. he didn’t know what to say. what was there to be said, anyways? the woman that he once knew was now a stranger—a fact that yoongi tried to ignore since the day that you left, but was now irrefutable—and so were the two men that stood in front of him.

strangers.

the four of you were nothing but strangers to one another.

and maybe that’s all you’d ever be now.

[wuntrum]

do you have any tips for an artist who wants to start making one off comics? i really enjoy your artistic direction and style of story telling so i’m very interested in your thoughts on it

yes, definitely!!

-read lots of comics! and a variety of them, too--both ones in the sort of genre/style you'd like to make, but also ones in completely different genres, lengths, places of origin, traditionally/indie/digitally published, simple to experimental formatting, etc

-in relation to the last one, if a comic you read really speaks to you, take some time to study some page layouts from that comic! how do the panels vary from page to page? how much space is the text taking up? what sort of "shots" (to borrow from cinematic language lol) are they using? these shouldn't be fancy, just little thumbnails, but i find it really helps. here's a few i did from a guest in the house by emily carroll

-start smalllll. its really important to build up your stamina, just like with any new sort of skill. if you wanna make a graphic novel thats 200+ pages long, you should make some comics that are 1, 20, 50 pages long and see them through to the end before taking on a super big project.

-this is related to the last point, but i think keeping your cast of characters small at first can also help build up your comic stamina. signals was the first longer comic i made, so i specifically really wanted to focus on just jeanne (and occasionally her parents and peers when they showed up)

-character sheets are helpful, but i also think the easiest way to start getting your characters drawn consistently is through actually drawing the comic! there's also gonna be panels where they look "off" or whatever, and its literally fine, i promise

-through the smaller comics, experiment with how you go about writing your story! theres no right or wrong way to write/plan out a story so, it takes some trial and error to figure out what will work best with your work flow. for me, i've found success in making a timeline of events for the story -> loosely guessing how many pages i'll need/want per section of the story -> freewriting (trying not to edit too much, just dumping all the words out) -> thumbnailing/loose sketching/editing text (all sort of happens in the same step; i find i need the layouts in front of me to understand what i need/don't need from the text i wrote) -> tight sketching -> final . but, if that flow doesn't work for you, try something else! i know a lot of comics people find success in writing a script first, with indications of page and panel-by-panel breakdowns

-take shortcuts often and without guilt. its a lot of work to make a comic! theres just a lot of drawings involved, that most people aren't gonna look at for very long! i especially recommend for infrequent/difficult things, like buildings or crowds or cars or bookcases, using some sort of 3d asset/brush to make your life easier. if you can reuse a drawing and change the crop/expression, do it!

-use some sort of tracker to track your progress on how many pages you've sketched/inked/finished. even if you don't have an external deadline, i think it's still good to give yourself some sort of timeline to work on (i recommend setting "ideal" goals and "realistic" goals, especially if you're working/still in school/etc). for signals, i used google sheets, because you can set up columns to be attached to little circle charts, so as you check off your progress, you can really easily see how much you've done/how much you have left to do (as i type this i highkey forget how i did that before, with signals, so...you might need to do some sheets experimentation to actually do this lol. but there's probably other trackers you can use too)

-understanding comics and making comics by scott mccloud are both great books, highly recommend them (easy to get second hand/from your library/🏴‍☠️)

-lastly, haveee funnnnn

[dyaz-stories]

Hey there! Just wanna know, what the heck happened in the JJK manga? Is it already over? Did the characters FINALLY mourn Gojo?! I gave up trying to read the manga after 236, so I just decided to randomly hear from others. But anyways, what happened??

Hey there! BOY AM I HAPPY TO DISCUSS THAT.

(I'm sorry I have so many thoughts and you've given me an excuse to ramble so this is going to be long)

There are two chapters left in the manga, it will end on September 30th. The chapter that just came out, chapter 269, was, however, really bad imo and a terrible use of time considering how little time Gege has left. I get that he had to wrap up quick, but in my personal opinion, it's inexplicable that he'd dedicate a whole chapter to what we just saw.

(More under the cut with spoilers for chapter 269)

Okay, so, the characters spend half the chapter arguing about how they could have done a better job fighting Sukuna, even though at this point, the losses are minimal. Most of the characters who were possibly dead are fine and dandy actually (Yuta, Higuruma, Todo, Kusakabe). Choso is still dead, but he gets a little line about how that's sad (and his death scene was really good and effective, so I'm not that mad about it, even if he's a character I really loved).

It kinda feels like Gege is justifying the way the fight went, which is a bit weird. In story, I think this could make sense if it was fueled by grief and loss and more of a "this person could have been saved! and this person didn't have to die!", but it feels kind of matter of fact tbh, with Maki being pretty much the only one displaying emotions. Even she seems to be arguing about efficiency, not really about saving human lives? Other characters' responses aren't much better. Yuuji in particular looks like he's super numb to everything, which again, yes, that's a trauma response, but it doesn't make for interesting storytelling and it's not going to be explored further, so... what's the point.

Also think that Yuta desecrating Gojo's corpse isn't explored enough. He did something horrifying that turned to not be that useful — going with the manga's message that the end doesn't justify the means — and he seems fine. I guess Maki yelling at him could be explained by the fact that she was strongly against this action, but it's never made explicit, which is a shame. (think it's more implied it's because he endangered himself and she has feelings for him)

The other half of the chapter is spent on a plot point that I don't think had been developed before that, about the new shadow style. This feels like the last arc Gege wanted to have and Sukuna's fight went on for too long so he had to scrap it. The point is essentially that the head of the new shadow style school is trying to become the head of Jujutsu Society as a whole now that the clans have collapsed. There was a binding vow that made it so the head of the school could steal years from people who had learned the style and add it to their lifespan. Anyway, Mei Mei steps in and makes it so the style can become more widely used.

(If you're bored reading that, yeah, so was I)

It's not useless exactly — it definitely goes towards the manga's message of ending the cycle and starting off with a clean slate, so that's a win — but it feels super rushed. It didn't have to be rushed, could have been a decent arc, it just isn't, and again, I don't think that's a great use of pages this late in the story.

Last but not least, Gojo. Gojo gets two mentions in this chapter.

The second one is in passing, when Hakari defends Yuta's usefulness.

And the first one, oooh boy the first one,

is about how this was all Gojo's fault from the get-go anyway 😃

And again, some nuance here. Kusakabe specifically says that the kids have nothing to apologize for — which I agree with. His point is that it was Gojo's responsibility to kill Yuuji. Essentially, the idea is that he was the adult, and in not doing that, he's responsible for the kids having to live with all the consequences of his actions.

Which aaaaah I'm losing it here! Yuuji was a victim of Kenjaku's machinations from the get-go, so would it have been right to kill him? Isn't this just a trolley problem — kill Yuuji and save innocent people's lives? But then, Yuuji, Sukuna and Kenjaku's actions led to the end of jujutsu society as we know it, more or less directly, which could lead to a better future, so was he actually right, in a purely consequentialist approach?

I don't think any of that is particularly interesting to discuss at this point tbh. I feel like that had already been dealt with. I'm just deeply confused as to why we're dealing with this when there were three chapters left before this one instead of focusing on closing the curtain on beloved characters, Gojo in particular.

Anyway! Bad chapter imo. Boring. Bad use of the characters and their relationships with one another. Really questionable use of time. Gojo was not mourned and in fact it's almost like he's never existed or never mattered to anyone. No Shoko here, not a hint of sadness from Yuta either, which I had hoped for.

I'm still looking forward to the last two chapters, and I hope they'll leave more room for the characters to, you know, have feelings.