#would you love me if I could give you nothing? would you love me simply for existing? and I had nothing to give you or offer

[wonustars]

In Front of Me (Teaser)

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriend to lovers, angst, smut (18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: TBA (this teaser: 679) ⊹ release date: TBA

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time. ⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, bestfriends to lovers (?), unrequted love, emotionaly stunted charcters, wonwoo has a bit of an ego, toxic!wonwoo&reader. (more tags and smut tag added to full fic when posted.) ⊹ note: im really excited to share this with you all. its not by any means done but heres a teaser for now since ive been away for so long ♡ also the teaser is not edited so pls just ignore if theres typos hehe. lov u all pls come into my ask box cuz i refuse to shut up abt this story :p.

⊹ masterlist, taglist, fic playlist.

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.

Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the break up, to lose feelings first, every decision was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up to your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his bestfriend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

{໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১  ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆˙}

Less than fourty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence is perfectly normal, then maybe, you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he had witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin of all people solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he can keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.

⊹ a/n: if u want to be apart of the taglist please fill out the form, comment or send an ask! please note that i'll only add those who have an age indicator somewhere in their blog! thank you ♡

[seungkw1]

love me right — ksy

♡ pairing: roommate!hoshi x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], humor ♡ wc: 4.1k ♡ warnings: oral (f. & m. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), multiple orgasms, a lil spit play, head pushing, thigh riding, somnophilia, cum eating/swallowing, cumming in pants, like 2 seconds of angst, praise kink, hs is down bad for reader, gendered pet names (baby, good girl, pretty girl, etc), bit of fluff at the end ♡ a/n: this is part 2 to make me !! finally got this written hope yall like <3

Ever since you sort-of-accidentally had sex with your roommate for the first time, he’s been nothing but a fucking menace. 

Not in a bad way - no, despite the fact that he's kind of an actual insane person he's always been and continues to be a very considerate and agreeable roommate. There's no problem with your living arrangements. 

The problem is how fucking insatiable he has become. 

You previously never thought there could be such a thing as too many orgasms, but Soonyoung really is testing your limits. You've never had so much sex in your life - and you're not mad about it by any means. But your roommate-turned-friend with benefits is absolutely, utterly, wholeheartedly obsessed with having his entire face buried in your pussy at all possible times. And you love every second of it. 

Sure, sometimes your clit kinda feels like it's gonna fall off. Most of the time you've barely recovered from the last set of two, three, four orgasms (the current record is six, a record he's determined to beat) before he’s back between your legs again. But the constant cunnilingus leaves you more sensitive than ever before - and the more you squirm beneath his tongue and scream and cry as he takes you to paradise, the more it gets him off. One time you were wailing his name so much that he actually came in his pants, fully hands-free. The man simply worships you. 

You've had various kink-related conversations over the past couple months of nonstop boinking, as these things come up. You wouldn't necessarily say Soonyoung is into anything too crazy (besides the occasional burst of tiger roleplay, anyway), but so far he's been enthusiastically down for everything you've expressed interest in. He’s the very definition of matching one’s freak. 

“You know what would be hot?” Soonyoung asks you one day, approximately two minutes after you woke up and emerged from your room.

“Good morning to you too,” you tell him through a sleepy yawn.

“What if,” he continues anyway, “hypothetically, I were to wake you up one day by eating you out?”

“Soonyoung is it nine in the morning,” you reply as you give him a dull glare. You go to make yourself a cup of coffee, but he extends a full mug to you. You take the cup - it’s fresh, piping hot. 

“Oh, thanks,” you say, surprised by the kind gesture.

“So?” he prods, eagerly awaiting your reply.

“I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t be mad about that,” you answer with a small shrug.

“NOICE,” he exclaims, pumping his fist in the air.

“BUT-” you quickly add. “That cannot be an everyday thing.”

“Right, of course not,” he agrees with a nod. “Soooo, when can I try it?”

“Well, I can’t tell you that,” you reply straightforwardly. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, that would like, defeat the whole point.”

A wide grin spreads across his face, but he shakes it off right away, playing it cool. 

“Okay cool, well I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, grabbing your hand and shaking it vigorously. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

You roll your eyes at him. 

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you gibe, but your face cracks into a smile. He pulls you in and kisses you. 

“Love you too.”

You freeze. 

You may have been intimate with him more times than you can count, but your relationship is strictly casual. You only kiss when you're fucking, and the words I love you have never once been uttered by either of you. You know he probably was saying it facetiously, but the way he said it was so nonchalant. So… realistic. You stare at him for a second, not knowing how to respond. His smile slowly drops. 

“Oh, sorry,” he apologizes. His ears immediately turn red with embarrassment. 

“No no it’s fine,” you babble, trying to backtrack. “I just wasn't expecting…”

“I was just kidding,” he responds. Then his eyes widen. “I mean not like that, it's not that-”

“It’s fine!!” you quickly interject before he can say anything else. “I know what you mean.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs again. He suddenly realizes he's still holding onto your hand - he swiftly lets go. 

“Thanks for the coffee,” you tell him politely with a smile, trying to change the subject. 

“Of course,” he replies, trying to smile back at you, but you can tell he's still sulky. He departs from the kitchen without saying another word. He emerges from his room about a minute later in athletic gear, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. 

“Off to workout already? I thought you were going this afternoon” you inquire, but he's already breezing past you. 

“Yeah, Mingyu just texted me and wanted to meet earlier,” he answers as he grabs his keys. 

It’s a bad lie, and you both know it. But you don't press him further. 

“Okay, have fun!” you say cheerfully. But an air of tension remains. 

“Thanks,” he replies, turning back to glance at you for only a brief second. 

“Hey,” you say softly. “Soonyo-”

He's out the door before you have a chance to finish even saying his name. 

You stand there for a few moments, staring at the front door, wondering if you've just fucked everything up. You didn't mean to, of course. You were just so taken aback by the stupid L word. It's not something you ever expected to hear coming from Soonyoung’s lips, not about you anyways. But now it has you thinking. Was he simply joking around? Or does he actually have… feelings for you?

A small blip of a thought enters your mind: and do you have feelings for him?

You push it away before you can think about it any further. 

The next few days are undoubtedly a bit awkward. Soonyoung is clearly avoiding you - not in a malicious way, but he just so happens to have business elsewhere whenever you're at home. 

You're mildly annoyed, but more so you're feeling gloomy about the whole situation. You never meant to do anything to push him away - near-constant fucking aside, Soonyoung truly is a good friend. And now you find yourself missing him. 

After an entire week of this nonsense, you decide to confront him. You pretend to be going to sleep, anticipating that he’ll spend some time alone in the common area. A few minutes later your hunch is confirmed when you hear the tv come on, its volume low. You quietly open your door and sneak into the living room. You approach the couch slowly from behind - when you arrive at it, you jump around and plop down next to Soonyoung. 

“FUCK,” he yelps, nearly jumping out of his seat.  “You scared me!”

“I'm horny,” you tell him bluntly, scooting up next to him. “Let me suck your dick.”

Soonyoung stares at you, looking into your eyes that are now mere inches from his. You can tell he desperately wants to say yes, but he resists. You give him a flirty look, trying to entice him. 

“Pleaseeeee?”

“Well, I was gonna watch a movie…” his sentence trails off, unfinished. He tries to shift his focus away from you, but his eyes keep flickering back to yours. 

“Seriously?” you ask, crossing your arms. “Since when do you turn down head?” 

“Y/n…”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. 

“Yes?”

He looks you in the eyes again, then sighs. 

“I dunno, I’m just not in the mood right now,” he finally answers. He looks away sullenly. 

“Are you okay?”

He looks back at you. He clearly wants to tell you something, but he hesitates. 

“About the other day…” he finally speaks. He pauses, in case you have something to say. You don’t; he continues.

“I didn't mean to make things weird. When I said that I loved you.”

“You didn't,” you assure him. You note that he didn’t say anything about it not being true, but you try to ignore that right now. 

You take his hand in yours, patting it softly. He looks at you, surprised by the gesture. 

“I was being weird, that's on me.”

His mood cautiously lightens. “You sure?” he verifies. 

“100%,” you say with a nod. He smiles at you. 

“Now will you please put your dick in my mouth?” you request again, looking into his eyes seductively.  

A smile creeps onto his face. 

“I mean if you're gonna be this fucking hot…”

You give him a mischievous smirk. You tug at his tshirt; he immediately takes it off. He groans as you grab his dick through his sweatpants, his cock starting to harden instantly in response. One thing about Soonyoung - you can do the bare minimum and he’ll have a boner within five seconds. You lick your lips, stroking him slowly through the soft gray fabric. He lets out a deep exhale, relieved by your touch - it had only been a week, but he missed you badly. He craved your touch, craved how insane you make him feel. He drops his head back, his legs spreading as he settles into the couch, shifting his pelvis up so you have full access to his groin. You rub your hand over the thick bulge, squeezing and pulling lightly, causing him to let out a pathetic-sounding moan. He is putty in your hands. 

About a minute more of your over-the-pants handjob and Soonyoung is rock fucking hard. You slide off the couch, taking to your knees between his spread thighs. You pull at the elastic waistband, tugging it down over the pulsating bulge in his underwear. You place your mouth on him through the fabric, letting him feel your lips, your hot breath on him. 

“Stop teasing me,” he begs after you plant several more kisses on his clothed dick. “Please.”

You gaze up at him, your eyes filled with lust. You reach into his underwear, retrieving his cock, prompting further pathetic moaning. He is leaking with precum - you take him in your fist, stroking up and down at a pace that he finds painfully slow. You place your lips atop the head, lightly sucking up his juices. He cries out as you then swirl your tongue over his tip.

“Aaaah,” he groans, his voice turning gravelly.

You grab his balls and take the rest of the head into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks as you begin sucking on it slowly - each motion of your lips long and drawn out. Saliva accumulates in the back of your mouth - and an overwhelming wetness accumulates in your underwear.

You draw your head back, gazing up at Soonyoung submissively. You collect your saliva, spitting it onto his cock - it trickles downwards. Wrapping your hand around his girth you spread it over his full length, coating his cock with your spit. 

“Oh wow,” he mutters, nearly going cross eyed. You take his cock in your mouth once more, swallowing more and more of him until his entire length is down your throat. 

“Goddamn baby,” he growls as you bottom out. You begin to bob your head, sucking him off. The sounds being made right now are grotesque - slurping and gagging from you, moaning and grunting from him. But it's only turning you on even more. 

“Ohh that's a good girl,” he grumbles as he pets your hair. You increase your pace - saliva coats your lips, dripping down your chin, spreading across your face. The utterly sloppy head has Soonyoung writhing beneath you, babbling unintelligibly as his orgasm draws near. 

“Feels so good baby.” 

“Fuck you’re so hot.”

“Pretty girl sucking my cock so good right now.” 

His other hand ventures to your head, holding you down as his hips jerk and shake. Your throat aches from him fucking it, your eyes well with tears - but your clit throbbing against the stickiness that has flooded your panties proves how much you fucking love this. 

“Ohhhhhmygoddddd,” he groans through gritted teeth. “Fuuuuck, y/n… I’m gonna cum…”

He pushes your head down as he releases, giving you several hard thrusts as his cum spurts down your throat. You let him fill you up, eagerly swallowing each burst of his load. His hips slow as his climax wanes. His arms plop onto the couch cushions, his body sinking into the sofa as his body relaxes. He drags one hand to your face, grasping your jaw gently as he slowly pulls you off of his sensitive throbbing cock. He wants to look at you so bad, see that pretty little face with those pretty swollen lips covered in both your juices - but his energy is too drained to even lift his head. 

“C’mere,” he pleads softly. 

You pull yourself back up onto the couch, pressing your body closely against his. You lay your head on his shoulder as your fingertips delicately trace up and down his cock - it pulsates at your touch. 

He turns his head to face you, his nose brushing up against yours. He lifts one hand, tenderly cradling your cheek. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice low and husky. 

You feel a pang deep in your stomach. You've been scared to admit it this whole time, but at this point it's undeniable: you are falling in love with your roommate. And god do you want to kiss him. 

“Yes,” you whisper, the word hot and breathy against his lips lingering before yours. 

Soonyoung grabs your face with both hands, pulling you deep into his kiss. His lips hungrily lock onto yours, his body stilling except for his chest, rising and falling with slow, heaving breaths. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, holding you tightly, refusing to allow any physical space between you two. You want to stay here for all of eternity.

Slowly, your mouths part - he gives your bottom lip a few more tugs before letting go. His forehead rests against yours, both of you exhaling deeply in tandem. His hands drop to your waist, touching you gently as the warmth of his breath greets your face. He looks into your eyes as he holds you. 

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

You nod. Quickly tucking his remaining erection back into his sweats, he takes your hands and pulls you up with him, kissing you with each step as you stumble together into your room. You plop onto your bed, pulling Soonyoung on top of you. He rolls over, holding you snugly against him, your legs tangling together as he starts making out with you again. Your aching cunt presses against his thigh as you wrap your legs around him; you begin to grind your hips slowly.

“Wait,” he pauses. He reaches for your shorts, sliding your pajamas and panties off of you. You kick them the rest of the way off, discarding them somewhere on the bed, your shirt quickly joining them. He yanks his own pants off; you straddle his thigh again, your soaked cunt greeting his skin. 

“Oh my god,” he groans. “It’s so fucking wet.”

Your hips begin again, dragging your pussy up and down his thigh, your juices spreading everywhere. You whimper at the stimulation, riding Soonyoung’s thick muscular quads as he wraps his arms around your torso. You cling to him as he draws you in close, his mouth wandering to your neck to plant a string of small kisses on the delicate skin. Ceaseless moans escape you as a fire builds in your gut, the burning pleasure of your climax rapidly approaching. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you cry out as you frantically get yourself off on Soonyoung’s thigh. You feel his cock growing hard again - it presses into your belly as it strains against the fabric of his underwear. 

“Cum for me babe,” his low voice speaks softly into your ear. 

Desperately grinding your pussy on his thigh, you finally release. You scream his name as you cum, legs trembling as your body shakes with vigor. Soonyoung holds you tight, kissing your cheek lovingly as you orgasm in his arms. 

“That's my girl,” he murmurs as he kisses your lips. You begin to come down, but your head is still spinning from the overwhelming stimulation. You try to catch your breath, slowing your breathing as Soonyoung rubs your back - but his touch and the warmth of his body sends you into a deep state of relaxation. He whispers something else to you, but before you can even process what he's saying, you are fast asleep. 

You’re awoken the next morning by loud, moaning cries.

Still half asleep, you begin to register a familiar bodily sensation. Only when you pry your eyes open and see Soonyoung situated between your legs, do you realize you’re the one moaning. His face is buried in your pussy, licking you slowly, tasting you, savoring every moment of having his tongue in your cunt. 

He lifts his eyes, noticing that you’re now conscious.

“Soonyoung what the fu- ohhh,” you question, but are cut off by his lips attaching themselves to your clit. 

“Good morning beautiful,” he mumbles into your cunt, refusing to take his mouth of you for a second. 

“Oh my god,” you groan. “I forgot I told you you could do this.”

He pauses, looking up at you. 

“Do you want me to stop-”

“NO,” you shout, louder than you meant. You lift your hips, putting your folds back in his mouth. He smiles into your cunt, eagerly resuming eating you out.

“Good,” he replies, barely audible as his tongue begins working into your hole again. 

Your back arches as his nose presses into your clit, making it throb desperately. He flattens his tongue, licking you all the way up, then swirling around the sensitive bud. 

“Ahhh,” you cry out involuntarily. “You’re gonna make me cum already.”

This only eggs him on further. He wraps his arms around your thighs, grasping you tightly as the tip of his tongue quickly flicks over your clit.

“How- fuck, how long have you been down there?”

He glances up at you again, sticking his tongue out exaggeratedly as he continues licking you. 

“I dunno, like five minutes maybe.”

“Five?!” you proclaim as your head falls back onto the pillow. You run your fingers through his hair. “That’s it?”

Soonyoung smirks, planting several kisses on your pussy. 

“You were already soaking wet when I got here,” he informs you. “Must’ve been dreaming about me.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” you pretend to be annoyed with him, but the moans escaping from your lips undermine your facade. 

“C’mon, you like it,” he teases.

“Yeah,” you admit. “I do.”

He grins widely. “Good girl.”

His praise and the way his tongue is now circling your clit send you over the edge. You whine as your orgasm approaches - loud, pathetic sounds filling the air as he sucks and slurps between your thighs. 

“Don’t stop,” you beg. 

The sensation builds and builds, making you squirm beneath him as every nerve in your body erupts with overwhelming delight.

“Oh fuck- I’m cumming,” you shriek as you reach your high. You cum on his tongue, long and hard - riding out your orgasm on his face accompanied by loud, unabashed cries of pleasure. As your body starts to relax, you release the tight grip you didn’t realize you had on his hair, stroking his head as he softly laps up your release. 

“Come here,” you tell him softly, but he doesn’t move. He seems to be even more relaxed than you are right now.

“Just a second,” he responds through deep breaths, his body sinking into the bed.

“Oh my god, did you…”

“Cum in my pants again?” he finishes your question for you. “Yeah. I did.”

He lifts his head, his eyes glazed over in post-orgasm bliss. 

“You’re so hot, I couldn’t help it,” he says with an amused grin.

Finally able to move, he rises - his underwear visibly filled with cum. He crawls back up to you, plopping onto his back right beside you. He peels the ruined underwear off, tossing them aside, then stares down at his own mess.

“Lemme just, um…” 

He goes to get up, intending to go clean himself off, but you pull him back onto the bed.

“I got it.”

You scoot yourself down, positioning your face near his groin. Slowly you begin to lick his own cum off of him.

“Jesus fuck, y/n,” he groans, his voice deep and low. “You’re filthy.”

“Don’t act like you don’t think this is hot.”

“Oh I do,” he says proudly. “Very fucking hot.”

He strokes your hair as you clean him up. As you finish he pulls you back up, laying you on top of him as he wraps his arms around you once more. Both of you are sweaty, and the embrace is nearly too warm - but neither of you want to move. 

You lay there in silence, your head tucked comfortably into his shoulder, peacefully listening to the songbirds chirping as warm morning sunlight filters into the room through the blinds. Soonyoung is breathing so steadily that you think he's fallen asleep underneath you, but eventually you hear your name softly muttered from his lips. 

“Hey, y/n?”

“Hmm?” you reply sleepily without moving. Soonyoung caresses your back, dragging his fingertips gently up and down over the soft skin. 

“What are we?”

You lift your head, propping yourself up by your elbow. You look down at Soonyoung - he gazes up at you, waiting for your response.

“I don’t know,” you answer after thinking for a moment. “What do you want us to be?”

He reaches for your face, stroking your cheek gently. 

“I wasn’t lying the other day.” He stares into your eyes. Despite the fact that he literally just had his face buried in your pussy, it feels overwhelmingly intimate. Your stomach churns anxiously.

“I really do love you.”

You knew he was going to say it, but your heart skips a beat anyway. Hearing him say it out loud, hearing him confess his love to you - it’s a thought that previously scared you. But you no longer fear confronting this reality. Now that you’re here, it feels comfortable, it feels right. 

“I’m sorry if that makes things weird between us, but it’s the truth,” he says timidly. “I just can’t deny it any longe-”

You cut him off with a kiss. 

You kiss him for far too long - but it’s never long enough. When your lips part at last, you gaze at him lovingly, a big, cheesy grin growing upon your face.

“I love you too, dummy.”

He stares back at you, mouth agape. He finally processes your words, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Really??” he asks you in awe. 

“Really really,” you nod.

He embraces you with explosive enthusiasm, making you yelp as he rolls over on top of you. You giggle as he gives you a series of rapidly-placed kisses all over your face. 

“Stop itttt,” you cry through your laughter. “That tickles!”

“Sorry,” he says with a big goofy smile. “I’m just really excited.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you say as you grab his boner that has quickly returned.

He beams at you. “What can I say, you make my dick happy.”

“God, you’re such a dork,” you tell him as you roll your eyes. But you guide his tip to your entrance, shifting your hips to take him inside you.

“Ohh fuuuuck,” he mumbles, his eyes rolling back into his head. He starts slowly sliding his overstimulated cock into you, grunting when his whole length is inside. He rests, unmoving.

“You good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, just trying not to cum immediately,” he says, grinning.

“Soonyoung, you are crazy.”

“Crazy for you,” he says with a kiss. 

You spend the rest of the day in bed together, making out, fucking, napping - anything, so long as you don’t have to leave his side. Soonyoung, being Soonyoung, tells you he loves you no fewer than 12 more times.

“So,” he asks as you intertwine your fingers with his, holding hands after he goes down on you for probably the fourth time today. “Does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now?”

You try to answer, but you’re trying to catch your breath after your millionth orgasm. 

“Hmmmm?” he pesters.

“Gimme a… fucking second…” you mumble, pushing him away playfully. He gets right back in your face.

“I’m not hearing no…” he says, kissing your nose.

“Oh my god, yes, Soonyoung. The answer is yes.”

He grins from ear to ear, then wraps his entire body around yours, clinging to you like a koala.

“Yayyyy!" he replies as he nuzzles his face into you. 

“You know,” he says after a few moments of silence. “I’m pretty hungry…”

“You better mean real food this time,” you tell him sternly. “I don’t think I could handle any more orgasms today.”

“Yes, real food,” he chuckles. “Shall I order delivery from that Thai place you like?”

“Yes please, I’m fucking starving.”

“You got it, baby.”

[justatypicalwizard]

Katsuki doesn't believe in love at first sight

Katsuki never believed in love at first sight. How could someone meet eyes and feel as if a thunder ruptured down from the skies and struck them? To love someone means to accept every part of them and to be able to incorporate them into your everyday life. It means building a brand new everyday with that person.

In order to do so you need to know a lot about them. Who they are, what are their plans for the future, what is their character and so on. Then you need to see if you are compatible in many spheres. You need to invite them to your friends group to see if it’ll hit off, you should try living together, they need to get to know your parents.

There are simply so many things to check off the list in order to be able to say you love someone. Otherwise it’s just empty words. I love you here and there. I love you for a week. I love you when you do as I please. Bullshit.

Mina constantly pestered Katsuki that his definition of love feels more like a chore or a job interview than like something a human would be able to accomplish. It wasn’t his fault he had some standards everyone else seemed to lack.

So even now Katsuki doesn’t like to admit that he fell in love at first sight, because it wasn’t the first time when he looked at you.

A quiet ping of his phone tore him out of his work. A new message from someone he didn’t recognise. Without much thought he opened the text.

[Hi, you may not know me but we go to the same lecture on Wednesday at 1 PM. I heard you have neat notes and wanted to ask if it wouldn’t be a problem if you send me today’s ones. I  got sick and couldn’t come and I wouldn’t want to fall behind with the material. Thanks!]

Geez, was there a longer way to type it? Couldn’t you just write: can you give me notes? On the other hand he always complained about people being douchebags.

Clicking onto your profile Katsuki saw a cheesy photo and a few posts from your daily life and vacations. Nothing much to be honest. Yet, he could vaguely remember your face around the people who entered the lecture hall. It won’t hurt to help.

[Sure]

[File attached]

Pushing his phone to the far end of his desk he went back to work. A few minutes later there was another quiet ding and this time Katsuki felt irritation bubbling inside him. It was you once again.

[Thank you so much!]

[I owe you]

[If you ever need anything feel free to write]

Whatever.

It only took a week for Katsuki to be indeed looking for help from someone. Once in a while, during his hero training, he was forced to pair up with someone in order to work on his rescue skills. Usually they’d use dummies but some fucktard in the course planning team decided that it would be most helpful if the students could train with a real human.

Normally Katsuki would ask Mina. He’d swallow his pride and force himself to listen to her babbling for two hours. Just to get it done. Unfortunately, Mina dumped him today, leaving only a [sorry, not feeling well, find someone else]. Damned flu season.

Who was he supposed to ask now, Denki?

As he scrolled down his chats, your profile pic flew by making Katsuki halt.

If you ever need anything feel free to write.

Screw it, you said it yourself, might as well find a person already and move on with his day. He typed a quick explanation and pushed the send button. The day was nearing the afternoon when you responded.

[Sure, if it’s two hours I can make it. Send me when and where I should be]

He shrugged and gave you the address for today's training.

In the early evening Katsuki found himself trotting towards his usual fighting ground absentmindedly. He was thinking about something related to work at Miruko’s when the idea flew out of his head. You were there, he could see you from afar, walking in circles in front of the main door.

Were you an idiot? It was the middle of winter and the early evening cold tore through layers of warm coats to sink into your bones. Why weren’t you entering the building to warm up a bit.

That’s why Katsuki is so stubborn about the whole love at first sight thing. It certainly wasn’t that exact moment when his heart skipped a beat because of you. You were shivering, hiding your chin and red tinted cheeks deeper into the collar of your winter coat. When you spotted him you reached out a gloved hand and waved.

“What the fuck are you doing outside, get in there or you’ll catch another cold.” He persisted, ushering you towards the entrance.

“Wow, good evening to you too.” You looked at him from under your woollen hat, surprised to get yelled at first thing you see him. Though, you did hear the upcoming pro-hero Dynamite, who went to the same lecture as you, was rather intense. “I don’t know, this place just looks fancy. Didn’t want to stand inside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“So you stood outside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“Exactly.”

He let you in and showed you around. After leaving your coat and getting a warm tea (his idea), you were ready to help with his training. The support students and university staff running around asked you to take off any unnecessary piece of clothing such as jewellery or sweaters that could get in the way. You gladly went through with their instructions.

You b-lined another student, a senior support course, who showed you the place where you’d be waiting to be rescued. The spacious arena was moulded into the shape of a city. Some buildings were fine, others rundown as if a villain attack rolled over them. There were paveways and roads, streetlamps and plastic trees. You even spotted a car, though it didn’t look like it could take off anytime soon. 

“It will look the same over and over. You sit or lie down in the place where I leave you and wait for your hero.” Your guide briefed the rules. “And every time pick out a different scenario and tie the band in the place that is put on it.” He handed you a dozen of ribbons with small notes attached to them. The first one you grabbed read: broken arm (tie around elbow).

“Sure.” You nodded your head and he left you on the second floor of a wannabe office building. There were a few chairs scattered around and a table that had a weird bite mark on it. You obediently wrapped the band around your arm and sat down on the floor, waiting.

You wondered how it’ll be, to get fake rescued. You were never in such a situation, always watching the villains from the comfort of your TV rather than first hand. What was Dynamite’s quirk? Suddenly you felt stupid for not knowing. On the other hand, you were never up to date with new heroes and all the popularity polls or colourful magazines. Guess you’d just have to wait and see.

Katsuki didn’t leave you for long. You were counting the pieces of shattered glass beneath your feet when a series of explosions passed beside the building. The small pieces you were meticulously adding shook and you let out a squeak when something heavy hit the wall behind you.

“Shut up, it's me.” Craning your neck, you saw Dynamite’s face, upside down, looking at you. He was halfway through the window. “What have you got?”

“God, you scared me.” You chuckled but quickly shut your mouth. The guide asked you to play the best victim you can. Victims shouldn’t laugh.

Dynamite hopped in front of you and crouched to read the note attached to your elbow. He mumbled something in the lines of fucking scenario and looked you straight in the eye.

“I’m gonna get you out of here.”

There wasn’t anything dramatic going on, it was even quiet outside save for a few shouts here and there. Yet, there was just something in a bulked man looking at you and promising you protection, one secured by his own arms. You felt like the guy from the firefighters video.

You couldn’t stop the giggle at the thought.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Dynamite spat.

“Nothing, nothing.” You shook your hands in front of your still laughing face. “Oh shit, this one’s supposed to be broken. Okay, just save me already.” You really fought with the snicker but the cheesiness and awkwardness of the whole situation had you in a chokehold.

“Whatever.” The hero sighed, visibly annoyed, and scooped you into his hands like a sack of potatoes. “I’ll need you to wrap your legs around me. Push the broken arm into my chest and use your healthy one to hold onto me.”

You did as instructed and glued yourself to him as tight as you could. He still held you with one of his arms and just when you started to wonder how the two of you would get down from the second floor he jumped out of the window.

A scream escaped your lips but it was muffled by a loud explosion.

For the next two hours you flew through the air in Dynamite’s hands over and over again. He held you in different ways, depending on your supposed injury, but every time you landed into the safe zone, you realised you were the first or nearly the first. That guy was quick like hell.

The last scenario rolled over and it was a panic attack. You were supposed to be physically fine but otherwise unresponsive and difficult to work with due to your shock. Dynamite tried to take extra steps to calm you down, speaking about how he’ll take you to safety and how it will all be over in a second. It looked like he was having a hard time.

“I need to touch you to take you somewhere safe.” He said, wrapping one of his hands around you.

When you were both at the safe zone, with cardboard paramedics to take care of you, Dynamite did something different. Instead of leaving you in the place where the group of injured would grow, he carried you straight to the ambulance.

“She has a panic attack.” He said to the empty fake vehicle and you just couldn’t take any more of it. You erupted in a fit of laughter. Your body shook in his hands and you gripped the X on his uniform to steady yourself. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You tried to explain but the laughter squeezed your throat. “I’m a shitty actor.”

“I see that.” Dynamite grumbled.

“Do you really need to talk to cardboard people and empty vehicles for two hours every week?” You asked, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“Is it really that fucking funny?”

“No, no! I get it.” You finally calmed down, letting go of the front of his costume. “It’s not that funny, maybe a bit but not that much. I think I’m just in a good mood.” You shrug your shoulders. “It was fun, flying with you, like a free rollercoaster ride.” You gave him a big, big smile. A big genuine smile. A big, genuine, lovely smile, with your eyes closed and teeth out and cheeks tinted pink.

People are stupid. That’s what Katsuki thinks. It’s not love at first sight. It’s love because of a single sight.

Even though Katsuki came to some fundamental conclusions in the topic of love he would get all defensive and intense when he was asked about how the two of you met. It would sound way better if he could say the two of you met, then started to talk more, then went on a date and agreed to meet each other and so on. He just felt so stupid, so awkward and silly when he had to admit that all it took for you was a single smile to make his heart skip a beat.

The worst part? It felt a little pathetic honestly, as if people never smiled at him, but truthly they didn’t, not like that. Not like you.

Katsuki still doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Yet, every other piece of his meticulously calculated equation of love was torn down and rewritten, all of which he gladly took.

[a-b-riddle]

Runaway Love (kidnapper Price x captive reader)

cw: established kidnapping, violence, intimidation, unplanned pregnancy, miscommunicated threat of forced abortion, eventual Stockholm syndrome, housewife kink. Reader just accepts her situation at this point. Dub-con, non-con.

You couldn't think of anything except the pain that radiated with each step toward your room. You were lucky your work and home were the same place. It was incomprehensible, downright unbelievable how some of the other maids worked their shift and then either walked home or walked to the bus stop.

Granted, most of them weren't pregnant and had shoes that actually fit, but you didn't like to complain. You were lucky to have the job, even if it was back breaking. You had a roof over your head and although the pay was minimal, you were able to buy essentials and save up and with a baby on the way every penny saved counted.

Most importantly, you were free. You were safe and so was the baby. It had been the only reason that after almost a year, you had finally been brave enough to escape. Knowing that it would be hard to rebuild a life from scratch. Knowing that the consequences meant a punishment so severe you could only hope for death.

You had tracked your period religiously. Even with the stress of being held captive by a psycho military Captain, your cycles were fairly normal. So when you were five days off, you knew. In a moment in which you wanted nothing more than to be happy to finally be starting the family you dreamed about having as a little girl, fear enveloped you.

John had never mentioned kids. Only a wife. Someone to be at home waiting for him. Keeping the house in order and his bed warm while he was away.

All I need is you and the boys, Birdie. What more could a man want?

You considered telling him. Hoping that he would be as happy as you wanted to be. Yet anytime you came close to telling him over the next two weeks, horrible thoughts raced through your mind. What if he was angry? What if he blamed you even though he practically took you whenever he pleased? How would he terminate the pregnancy or would he be content in letting you give birth without any medical intervention and simply get rid of the baby after?

Would he just get rid of you altogether?

It was like the universe was telling you to run when shortly after you decided that telling him wasn't the answer, that he told you he was going on a mission. Won't be back for a couple of weeks. Sent the boys to pick up anything you'll need. I know you'll be good for me.

You had been good. For that last six months, you had behaved. Didn't pull away from his touch or put up a fuss. You lived in the epitome of domestic bliss, so John had no reason to send you down to the basement. Not when you had so many opportunities to try to escape and you didn't.

Granted, he had threatened to break your legs during your first and last stunt. You had been in the basement for three weeks. Living in near darkness as he brought all of your meals. You had been upstairs for about twenty minutes and barely made it to the door before he tackled you. Pinning you to the ground, breath hot against the back of your neck as he hissed in your ear. Ungrateful little brat.

Your apologies fell on deaf ears as he hauled you back down where you would stay for six weeks.

For months you built the relationship on a lie. A lie John deluded himself into believing. Anytime he told you he loved you, you repeated the words back. Wanting to scrub your body raw anytime he touched you and hating yourself anytime he made you come.

But it had been worth it. You were four months along, and given your ill-fitted clothes, not really showing, but knowing that in another five months you would be holding the baby you always wanted. A baby that you had went through hell for. Seeing his or her face for the first time, being their mom would be worth it.

You kept all of the lights off. It was a request of the motel owners to reduce their bills. So even if it was early December and you knew you would be walking back to a freezing room, they didn't give a shit. In truth, they were doing you a favor only charging you $400 in rent with unlimited access to their laundry services. You suppose having the pity of others did have its perks.

You hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights before pulling your shoes off your feet and plopping down on the bed. The grit and grim still felt thick on your skin, but you couldn't find the energy to care. You would shower and get on a fresh set of clothes you had gotten from the shelter when you first made it into the city, but for now you needed a moment. Just a few minutes to decompress.

A few minutes turned into five and then ten. Before you knew it, you had been laying in the bed floating in and out of consciousness for almost twenty minutes. You knew you needed to get up. Wash away the grime of the day that had settled on your skin. Your clothes smelling faintly of bleach.

Fuck you were tired.

You were always tired.

You got up and made your way to the bathroom, barely keeping your eyes opened. Not confident enough you would actually be able to take a shower without wanting to lay down in the tub and let all the strain of the day go down the train.

It's funny how the human body can make us teeter on the edge of sleep. We imagine things that may or not be there. But when you heard it, when you heard that voice coming from the corner of you room, you knew you weren't imagining anything.

"Wonderin' when you'd wake up."

[bpmiranda]

Tangled (Hugh Jackman)

A/N: fluffy, purely fictional, young!hugh(35s), 18+ f!reader, dog being man’s best friend

It wasn’t a secret that Hugh Jackman had begun to see someone. The paparazzi were always humming around in wait, waiting to catch the slip of a cap that revealed your face, a telling shot of your hair or your eyes. The media had speculations, that was all, and you knew they would be disappointed when they finally came to find out that you were no one special. No one of interest, really. You were his dog walker in New York. Someone he only occasionally spoke to when he was in the States, someone he grew close to from pure necessity. Your shared chats started off completely professional, setting dates and agreements on payment. Then you had begun to update him on the things his dog would do, it was innocent enough, and he appreciated how loving and dedicated you were to caring for his best friend. And then the conversation would shift away from dogs and professionalism to personal questions, nothing more intimate than how long you had lived in the city or what your favorite coffee shop was for a quick afternoon pick me up. Sure, he could’ve googled most of his queries about food or transportation in the city, but why do that if he could have the personal opinion of a local?

“Take 5th, then? Not 6th?” He asked you on the phone, already at the location he had been searching for, but simply not ready to end the call with you.

“Not unless you’d like to be harassed into buying subpar tourist souvenirs by street vendors.” You laughed and he couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face. “Did you find it?” You ask him, returning his attention which had drifted into the other sounds you make that often captivate him.

“Uh, yes, found it.” Hugh looked around at the little French bakery he was sitting in and nodded to himself. “Quite lovely. Won’t you join me?” He asked, throwing caution to the wind.

You bite your lip as you muse over the proposition. “What about the paparazzi?” You ask as you nervously wring your hands on the leash handle tethering you to his dog.

Hugh can’t help, but tease. “No, I don’t want to have lunch with them. I want to have lunch with you.”

Another laugh echoes through the phone line and his heart swells at the melody of it. Lord, he is in the deep end about you. “I think I should just drop him off at your place. I’d hate to get you caught on some TMZ tabloid over dating your dog sitter.”

Hugh chuckles softly, aware of your trepidations and unbelievably taken with the sense of privacy you think he’s got now. “We’re not that far apart in age, darling. It wouldn’t be the scandal you think and I assure you, I’ve got no problem getting a few pictures taken, especially of us together.” He says and you feel your cheeks heat up.

“I would say a decade is about as large as is socially acceptable.” You quip, trying to mask the fact that you’re incredibly flustered with him.

But his laughs tells you he knows you’re more anxious of him than of the cameras. “Tell you what. Let me grab you a coffee from here and I’ll meet up with you in the park? It’ll seem as if I’m simply picking him up, no possible misconceptions. Yes?”

You couldn’t very well say no to that. It would seem innocent enough, so you agreed. It was incredibly difficult to keep things casual in public when all you wanted was to kiss him, touch him, hold onto him as you made out on some park bench. But it would have to wait until you were no longer in the public eye. “Thanks again for taking him to the vet.” Hugh says as the two of you stroll around the park. “You know you don’t have to keep doing this. I’m happy to hire someone else. It could free us up to do other things.”

You give him a warning look and he simply grins at you, that ever so charming grin. “Then what would my excuse be for hanging around with you?”

“You don’t need an excuse, darling.” Hugh’s eyes scan over you, noting the way your leggings cling to your thighs and ass, your sports jacket snug against your breasts and your waistline. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands off you.”

“Hugh,” You whisper as he suddenly stands in front of you. His deep green eyes look down lovingly at you as he tries to take the leash from your hand, he dips his head down, and you feel his lips brush the apple of your cheek. “The cameras.” You urge, aware of the few men following you at a respectable, but obvious distance since you met up.

“It’s not like they don’t already suspect us.” He reasons, his other hand coming up to your waist and you still cling to the leash he is taking from you. “Let me kiss you.” He more orders than asks and you look up at him warily. “I love to spend time with you. I can’t keep sneaking around.”

Before you can answer, his dog barks loudly and tries to make a run for what you believe was a squirrel or some other dog. His leash tangles around yours and Hugh’s legs and you’re forced into his embrace as he catches you while you fall into him. The two of you laugh as you untangle yourselves from the leash and you playfully scold his dog before Hugh suddenly wraps an arm around you and brings you into a kiss. Your body melts against his as you return the gesture and you find yourself smiling as you hear the incessant shuttering of cameras in the distance. “Guess it’s out there now.” You whisper as you pull away, breathless while you look up at him dreamily.

“Guess it is.” He grins almost triumphantly as he refuses to let you go and leans down to kiss you again. More sweetly and slowly and you think you might faint from the romance of it all. Before you continue your stroll, Hugh bends down and caresses his dog’s head. “Good boy.”

This was based on a request! I love bf!hugh🥹💕

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened

[enhasparadise]

TOKYO ON EDGE. ˒˒ ﹙ niki! ﹚

╰┈⪼ moving to Japan wasn’t really on your plan through the year, but with your specialty being Japanese you had no choice but to accept. arriving in the middle of the year you found it strangely easy enough to integrate into your well-known class but over the days everything seemed to become boring and everything looked the same, the only thing that seemed to interest you was discovering the streets of Japan and the cultural differences with your native country. but, what you hadn't imagined was coming face to face with a car race, where one of the participants was one of your classmates, Nishimura Niki.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ street racer!niki x student!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 older brother!jay, best friend!sunoo, best friend!haerin, bully!woonhak and heeseung.

genre﹙💬﹚⸝⸝⸝ serie, street racing au, enemies to lovers, kind of bully!niki, slow burn.

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ harsh talking, mention of violence and bullying, mention of drinking and smoking, cursing, mention of mental health, niki’s really dumb sometimes.

words count ‎⸝⸝⸝ 2681 words

taglist ‎ ⸝⸝⸝ @r1kification @cherryrikis @moonpri @who-tf-soddhi @heeswif3y @yangjungwonnie comment to be added to the taglist !!

rain’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ screaming right now because I really love this chapter and how it’s start, also screaming because of the ending of this chapter since of what niki said. yes I’m fangirling over my own story, but anyways I really hope that you like how the story start and all that happened during this chapter.

all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

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001. what kind of starter pack is this ?

You didn't know if it was simply the universe that was playing with you, or fate that had decided that, from one day to the next, after discovering your new school, you would meet this boy who spent his days talking to you. get on the nerves.

The most annoying part of the situation wasn't even the boy himself, but no matter where you were you heard each of the girls whispering his name as if he was a real living god.

Nishimura Niki.

No matter when you heard his name, you found yourself getting annoyed. Yet he hadn't done anything wrong, he was simply everything you despised deep down. That satisfied look and that smirk that almost never left his lips no matter where he was.

Since you had accidentally crossed his path, and his coffee had accidentally spilled on his uniform, he had spent the rest of his time ensuring that your days at school were nothing more than simple moments of torture or complete boredom, except that, even without his presence you were already annoyed and angry enough so knowing that he could arrive at any time made you completely mad with rage.

“y/n are you even listening to me?” Sunoo ended up saying.

“sorry Sunoo, I’m not really focused, it’s just.. all of this annoys me” you ended up responding as a sigh left your lips.

"y/n we'll never move forward with the presentation if you're not focused, and spending your time thinking about Niki won't help us."

“I don’t think about him!” you replied, offended that your best friend would think that before looking around you. "why does this idiot have to be so popular.. he's not even that amazing.."

Sunoo couldn't help but look at you without understanding what could be going on in your head. You now spent most of your days complaining about one of your classmates that you hated while, during your first days here, you both spent your days laughing and talking about topics that you are really interested.

Now it was almost like you spent your days complaining about Nishimura Niki and saying how much you hated him.

Simply, while you were both in the library working on your history paper which was due the next day, your best friend was ready to give up on everything because you weren't even concentrating while on your side you were ready to hit yourself with one of the books on the table if you once again came to wait for this name which was driving you completely crazy.

So, after taking a deep breath to focus again on the work you had to do, you turned back to Sunoo who was completely absorbed in reading his lips.

"And why shouldn't we be allowed to watch on the internet? Sunoo it would go ten times faster and you know it just as well as I do"

"Because, I know you and you'll end up spending the rest of the afternoon glued to your phone and I'll find myself having to do all the work on my own.." placing one of the books right in front of you, he showed you a passage that he found interesting, "I think we can also add that with everything we have just found, it will make a link with the other subjects that we must address later.." he replied wanting to get you back to work.

And it didn't take another sentence for your attention to return to the book, reading what he had told you.

Except that, at the same time, some girls who were passing behind you found themselves whispering a bunch of things that you hadn't heard until one of them said Niki's first name and, in a few moments, Only seconds later you found yourself looking around you.

The library was generally not a very busy place during school days, so obviously seeing more and more girls present was not particularly a good thing. Especially if it had anything to do with that student you hated so much.

But then, trying to concentrate on your work again so that your best friend wouldn't end up forcing you to finish everything by yourself, you sighed, realizing that you were possibly thinking too much simply because you were already quite agitated with what had happened that morning.

"Can we take a break Sunoo? I really can't concentrate it's horrible.." a sigh left your lips as you put your pen on the table and turned your head towards your best friend.

"If you want.." he started before taking his phone out of his pocket and realizing what time it was, "shit.. I have to go anyway.. Sunghoon is waiting for me so that We're going to join the others for our dance class."

Then, as soon as he finished his sentence, he closed the book in front of him, before getting up. "We'll finish this tonight, I'll call you as soon as I have time, and answer this time because otherwise we'll have more time to finish everything."

“Okay Sunoo.. go ahead I’ll take care of putting everything away” you replied before seeing him walk away and the last thing you saw was his blond hair as he closed the library door .

A sigh left your lips, your eyes closing for only a few seconds but opening them again you noticed Haerin in front of you then almost inevitably a smile appeared on your lips.

"Did he finally let you go? I thought I wouldn't be able to come see you all afternoon if he stayed with you.." she said directly with a slight laugh.

"Just assume that you have feelings for him and it will be a lot easier for both of you.." you had barely finished your sentence when you noticed your best friend's expression, and almost inevitably you started to to laugh. “Will you help me clean up? We can go to Starbucks afterwards if you want, it’s been a while since I’ve been there and I really want to go together.”

A smile appeared on your best friend's lips as she heard the word Starbucks and she immediately stood up while carrying several books in her hands to go straight to put them away.

Noticing how she reacted, a laugh left your lips once again and, taking the other part of the books, you yourself went through the shelves of the library to find the shelves where all the books came from.

Ten minutes later you finally left the library with Haerin following you. Except that, as soon as you left the library, your smile faded simply because you noticed a group of girls gathered in the same place, and you knew perfectly well what that meant. Niki was not far away.

“Oh my god do you think Niki is anywhere near?” Haerin asked, and as soon as her sentence was spoken, you remembered that she too, although she had feelings for your best friend, had a strange admiration with Nishimura Niki and you couldn't understand that.

“Please don’t say his name, it annoys me..” you replied as you placed your bag on your shoulder and began to walk to the end of the corridor to leave the room. 'establishment.

In spite of yourself, your gaze landed on this crowd of girls who looked like real kids, and you directly noticed Niki through the whole crowd. He wasn't doing anything in particular, he was just on his phone chatting with some boys in your class, and of course you wondered almost immediately what the girls saw in him. It was very obvious that he had absolutely nothing to do with them and that he simply preferred to ignore them, regardless of what she might say to him.

A sigh left your lips and you wanted to continue walking, but Haerin stopped you by grabbing your arm to make sure you didn't leave without her.

“Believe me, he’s an idiot, he doesn’t deserve your attention Haerin..” you told her, noticing that she reacted the same way as all the girls around him.

And almost as if he had heard what you had just said, Niki raised his head to look at you, and a few seconds later he put his phone away to walk towards you. What exactly was he looking for?

You didn't know him, but with everything you had heard you knew perfectly well that Niki didn't care at all about girls' feelings or just girls in general. Just you, he loved making your days difficult just by being near you. And unfortunately for you, today was likely to be even more complicated.

Haerin, noticing that he was approaching the two of you, couldn't help but laugh in the silliest way, but at no time did Niki's gaze fall on her, he was focused on you. And when he was at your side, he pushed Haerin to the side just to place his arm around your shoulder, which directly made you want to vomit and you almost immediately moved away from him.

“Don’t touch me, I don’t want a boy like you to touch me.”

“Oh come on y/n.. don’t you want to have fun with me? I know you like me deep down”

"Ew.. do you want me to vomit on your uniform or something? Considering the badboy starter pack that you are, I'm quite happy to hate you Niki.." you responded directly before releasing his arm from your shoulder and move away from him, visibly disgusted with how he was acting.

“A badboy starter pack? Can you give me a quick definition of what you mean by that?” He asked you and a laugh left your lips directly.

“I think you understand perfectly what I mean Niki, you’re stupid but not so stupid that you don’t understand..”

“Hey, he’s not stupid, shut up!” Shouted a girl who was around you, before other girls started saying any type of sentence to defend Niki. Except that no matter what she said, your view of Niki wasn't going to change, it was never going to change since Niki was just a miserable idiot.

"They're not wrong, I'm not stupid.." Niki defended himself as this most annoying smile appeared on her lips, and a sigh of annoyance left your lips at the same time.

"Oh of course niki.. you're the most annoying idiot I know in school.." you replied knowing that he wasn't going to leave you alone no matter what you said to him. "And to answer your question, they're the kind of bad boy starter pack, the ones who are really stupid, who react like real assholes and who of course don't mind hurting the girls who are interested in them simply to laugh about it behind..”

One of his eyebrows rose at your response before a laugh left his lips, finding what you had just said to him totally hilarious.

“Really y/n, it’s charming what you say about me” he responded so casually because none of your sentences hurt him.

“Oh shut up will you, you're such an annoying idiot, except girls never notice because of..” you looked at his face, a look of disgust appearing on your own face, “this what you look like.." then you ended up turning to all the girls around you, who were either looking at Niki in admiration or looking at you like they wanted to rip your head off for what you were saying about niki, then you came back to look at niki. “Seriously, are you lacking affection for all the girls to be so into you? Because it’s quite pitiful to be honest..”

The girls around you were almost going crazy over what you were saying but none of them seemed to come up to you, simply because Niki was right in front of them and they didn't want to in any way. that Niki sees them being violent.

“Oh but I'm not in need of attention, on the contrary..” Niki ended up responding in a very annoying way, “it's not my fault if the girls at school adore boys like me.. " the same smile was fixed on his face since the beginning of your conversation and it annoyed you greatly. “Too bad you’re not actually one of them.”

Hearing his last sentence you wanted to vomit because it seemed so pitiful and stupid. You just stared at him with a look of disgust on your face, unable to understand why Niki was bothering you like that when he could just be giving this attention to a girl who liked him more than you. . That is to say the only girl who hated him because of his troublemaker behavior and the way he annoyed you.

"Rather die than become one of your groupies who lick your coattails in the hope of getting attention that will never be given to me." you ended up answering, your hand gripping the strap of your bag so much you felt your blood boiling inside of you because he kept adding any sentence to see your reactions that he loved while you answered each time.

“Oh but I give them attention, there are just so many of them that I can't really give each of them attention for a day.”

"Yeah you're just a real idiot who plays with girls that's all"

“That’s what you think y/n”

“You make me want to vomit Niki… it’s surprising that I still haven’t vomited.”

“Oh stop y/n I know deep down you love me..”

"Shut up niki you really make me want to vomit you're so horrible and annoying.. then seeing how you act with girls it confirms that you're just an idiot badboy who has absolutely no interest in girls and who just spend their time breaking her hearts"

“I think the role of bad boy suits me well you know”

“So you confirm the fact that you are a bad boy and that you have the starter pack that I am with”

Niki looked at you blankly, almost as if you had just said the most incomprehensible thing imaginable. And around you you always heard the girls whispering or shouting all kinds of things about you.

“Being a bad boy doesn't give you a starter pack,” Niki ended up answering.

“Ah yes totally Niki, believe me you have a starter pack that fits the badboy label. Do you want me to make you a list?”

A laugh left his lips as he listened to you, before allowing you to continue speaking, knowing what you were going to say to confirm your words.

"So already, with what I've seen since I've been here you don't take authority seriously and you don't care what the teachers tell you, so that proves the first criterion of the bad boy, then in view of your hands you also spend your time fighting so that proves the second criterion." You paused in what you were saying just to look at him intently to notice every detail about him. "With your character and your behavior it's not surprising that you find yourself idolized by girls and then you don't even need.."

"In this case if I'm a badboy, that makes you a goodgirl, well if we stay in the cliché of course.." Niki ended up cutting you off, and as soon as you waited for his sentence you didn't know how you was supposed to get the information.

“And what does that mean Niki?” you ended up asking as your arms crossed over your chest.

“I think just as well as I do that you know perfectly well what that means y/n” he replied and you noticed that smile that annoyed you so much appear on his lips.

Something to which you hadn't responded simply because you knew that, deep down, Niki only did that to annoy you and he knew that it would work so obviously you didn't want to show him that he was right once. moreover.

“Seriously Niki shut up”

“Only if you confirm that you are the cliché of the good girl since I am, as you say, a bad boy with a starter pack to match..”

"Oh but you really are Niki stop lying to yourself.. you know you're just a bad boy playing it.."

“well I’m telling you that you’re a good girl, you just don’t notice it… but I’m going to prove to you that you are one”

[halfwayhearted]

Arda Güler fic where he feels you are being distant and starts to overthink which leads to him asking if you were going to break up with him out of nowhere and it causes a small argument…. angst to comfort perhaps. Get back to me as soon as possible. Thank you for your time!☀️

Velvet Mood — Arda Güler.

Pairing: Arda Güler x Fem!Reader

Summary: Something’s on his mind, and you don’t know what it is. You’re determined to find out; you just didn’t think it’d be about whether or not you’re planning to break up with him.

Word Count: 810+

Disclaimer/s — Nothing, angst to comfort!

A/N: I’M ILL. THIS. + their argument wasn’t what I had hoped but I lowkey got stumped so, let’s knock it off. Thank.

Arda was distant. Too distant. It worried you a lot.

It all began when you came home one day, utterly exhausted from a long day at work. You longed for nothing more than a shower, some food, and to collapse into bed. That was all you could muster.

Arda brushed a hand over your hair, and you felt the soft touch of his lips against your temple. “Hey, how was work? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“‘M tired,” you grumbled, “It was very grueling.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want to watch some TV?”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you shake your head in response to his question. “Not now, please.”

It was a small, simple response, yet it had him thinking the absolute worst. Most days, you’d agree and just fall asleep with your head resting lazily against his chest and your legs thrown over his lap. But to receive a ‘Not now, please’?

It was… different. He didn’t quite like it at all.

Since then, the things you used to do were starting to become memories. A simple thought now captured the feeling of contentment.

You tried to talk to him. He simply brushed it off. Brushed you off. In all honesty, you were slowly becoming tired of it. Day by day. Like a routine.

Today would likely end the same way. You’d try to talk to him, he’d give you nothing to work with, and then you’d call it a night. You’ve fought. Maybe not subtly, but you still fought. Tried to.

“Arda,” you started softly, “How was your day?”

His eyebrows raised for just a split second before he shrugged his shoulders. You saw the way his jaw clenched, it confused you. “It was fine. You?”

“Fine, too. Can… I want to talk to you about—”

That was when he uttered your name, cutting you off, “Listen, are you going to break up with me?”

What? You voiced your exact thoughts, “What?”

“Are you?” He echoed, his voice firm. Though you could tell he was clearly upset. Arda was upset.

You were at a complete loss for words. The only question that escaped your lips, filled with curiosity, was, “Where is this coming from? Did I do something, Arda? I need you to talk to me.”

Did I do something, you had asked. He could’ve laughed. “Did you? Or, did I do something.”

“No, you didn’t do anything. Where is this—I’m confused, why is this even a question? I love you, you know that. So, where is this coming from?”

“Don’t give me that,” the man sighed, averting his gaze. “You’ve changed. You seem tired. Tired with me. Of me. And if that’s the case, I need to know.”

‘Tired of me.’ Tired of him? You were never tired of him. You never have been, and you were sure you never would be. Ever. Your job had been weighing you down, of course, but you never thought it’d slowly but surely impact your relationship like this with your boyfriend. It never crossed your mind.

You felt a crushing weight of guilt in your heart.

Taking a step toward him, you began, “I’m not tired of you. And… no, I’m not breaking up with you. God, never that, okay? I’ve been working extra hours, and it’s starting to take its toll on me. I didn’t mean to put you in that position. I don’t want you to keep thinking that. Trust me when I say that I love you. Because I do. So much.”

His expression softened at your explanation. You weren’t planning on breaking up with him. Arda couldn’t help but feel a little foolish. He knew the promotion you got would have its effect. He just didn’t realize how worn out it’d make you.

It all started to make sense. Oh, how dumb.

The brunette felt his entire body relax and let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I should’ve just asked you. I didn’t mean to just let it out. Put you on the spot.”

“No, no, hey, I’m glad that you did,” you assured, quickly lifting your hand and using it to cup his jaw. “I’m glad that you did. I wouldn’t have found out how you felt. How about we make one of those calendars? We can set, like, dates, and days where it’ll be dedicated to just us. How’s that?”

“You’d let me know if you’re too tired for them?”

A smile slowly spread across your face, “I would.”

Arda hums softly at that, leaning down to place a gentle peck to your temple. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer to him.

“I’m really starting to hate your job,” he muttered.

And you laughed. Of course he did. He would. All you did was let out a laugh, “But, you love me.”

The Güler man hummed once more, “I love you.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr ! ౨ৎ

[ghostradiodylan]

Probably a lukewarm take, but other than the (lack of an) ending, the Laura and Ryan scenes are some of the worst written and conceived parts of The Quarry.

And this is completely separate from whether Ryan is interested in Dylan (he is, but that's another post and not important to this rant) or Kaitlyn; even if Ryan had no other potential relationships in the game, even if Laura wasn't practically married to Max, wearing his ring around her neck the entire time they're talking, it still would feel flat to me because nothing about it is earned.

Laura is on a killing spree with the single-minded goal of saving Max. She genuinely believes the only way to do that is to kill Chris Hackett. Even if you've made her argue with Max to the extent that they can, they're still a strong unit when she goes out to solve this werewolf thing once and for all. Even if you don't believe in love think their relationship would survive all this trauma, she deeply believes she owes it to him to rescue him, that is her entire guiding ethos during the game.

Ryan is going with her to try to keep that from happening because Chris has been his friend and mentor for years. We know Ryan has an absent mother, unmentioned father, and a potentially turbulent family life, and he's been coming to HQSC for so long that it feels like home to him, that Chris and his kids feel like family. Laura has already killed Kaylee. Even if Ryan completely bought into the werewolf thing by now, that would be a tough pill for him to swallow, given his reaction to her death.

Then, they fall in the titular Quarry and suddenly have the option to express a completely unearned sort of camaraderie with each other. Why is Laura asking Ryan about his love life in the first place? The question about him being single makes sense as a dig, but it doesn't make any sense for her to ask about him being a 'brooding and mysterious loner' because... she hasn't actually seen him do anything brooding or mysterious? How did she even get that impression? If Laura's got some kind of borderline psychic intuition then this is really the worst possible use of that ability--she should have foreseen her need to go to that motel and stay the fuck out of locked storm shelters instead.

It doesn't make a lick of sense for her to say that Kaitlyn looks up to him either. She hasn't seen that. Hell, we as players haven't even seen that! Kaitlyn seems generally tolerant of but unimpressed by Ryan. She has the option to be impatient with him multiple times and even get the chyron that she's ‘losing respect’ for him if he suggests she take the gun and go after Nick instead. This seems like an objectively good idea, since she's a much better shot than Ryan, a fact which the game keeps telling us despite refusing to give her a gun until the last possible second, though maybe the concern is that she'd have to drag Nick back to the campfire herself. (Honestly, I think Kaitlyn could do it, I think she's like a mighty ant who can lift many times her own weight, but that's not what this post is about.)

Ryan, for his part, shouldn't really be willing to talk about any of this with Laura either. He canonically doesn't even want to talk to his coworkers about his animation school decision (in the office scene with Dylan and at the campfire with Emma if you choose truth like a lunatic) and he's known them for at least two months, if not for years attending the same camp. But he met Laura a few hours ago and is suddenly willing to spill his guts about who he does or doesn't have a crush on and who does/doesn't have 'the hots' for him, despite the only experience they have together being her leaving his friend of several years dead facedown in a pool and expressing a strong desire to kill his father figure? I simply do not buy it.

I'm not sure if this was supposed to go along with the relationship system that they scrapped or what (there's not a single shred of Ryan and Laura stuff in the datamine that I've been able to find), but all it really serves to do is muddy the waters by trying to force some level of intimacy on Ryan and Laura before the big confrontation at the Hackett House. But that confrontation itself should have been the thing that forged that intimacy between them and allowed them to go on to fight Silas together.

Overall, I think it's a major sign that the back third of the game got a very rushed and, frankly, bad chop job (which we know is true) and that they struggled to tie the resulting loose threads off in a way that made any kind of narrative sense. It's a shame, because the writing in The Quarry is actually way better than most people give it credit for, it just wasn't allowed to pay off in a lot of ways that clearly were intended.

[separatist-apologist]

We Could Call It Even

Summary: Newly made and terrified, Elain Archeron's human fiance tells her of a creature that could turn her back and keep them together and Elain will stop at nothing to make rumor a reality.

There is no force that can undo fate. No magic that can unmake a mating bond. And Lucien Vanserra isn't about to let his mate throw herself in the path of certain death on a fools hope. Lucien will be forced, instead, to watch her love another man for eighty brutal, miserable years.

While Elain Archeron will have to contend with a life she hoped to never live…and a mate she never wanted.

Thank you @shadowisles-writes for the moodboard!!

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

-

“Return to me quickly,” Graysen told her that morning, wrapping a wool cloak around her shoulders. “Return to me human.”

“And…” Elain’s bottom lip trembled as she swallowed her fear, “And if I don’t?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he replied, clearly convinced this was going to work. Elain, though…she was uneasy as she set out. She left in the dead of night to cross back over into Prythian. The closer she got, the more her magic stirred in her chest, crowding against the edges of her vision. 

She shoved it down. It wasn’t natural, she reminded herself. Wrong. She wasn’t faerie, she was simply a human trapped in faerie skin. Like the old stories where faerie magic could trap a child if they weren’t careful or a bargain was worded poorly. She simply needed to break the spell.

True love wasn’t enough, though in the stories it always was. Elain found herself frustrated when she couldn’t keep the magic at bay, her knees sinking to the snow as she crossed the border into Prythian.

Her visions had always been chaotic and half-formed. Disjointed, she supposed. With her forehead pressed to the cold ground, Elain groaned, trying—and failing—to banish what now burst brightly behind her eyes. 

Autumn leaves burning, smoke curling like shadow toward a darkened sky. A ruined, burnished crown clattering to white marble floors. Spring blooms bursting through the ground, the petals opening as rain cascaded from the sky. A night sky, alive with vivid lights dancing across an otherwise empty space. 

Elain gasped. “I hate you,” she whispered, unclear if she was talking to herself or the powers that coursed through her. She’d clenched her jaw so tightly she tasted the coppery tang of blood and her fingers had curled into the frozen ground, causing several of her nails to break. 

It was fine, she told herself, though in truth it wasn’t. Blood oozed over one of her nail beds, dripping three bright red spots over the stained, gray snow still gathered beneath a shady spot. It reminded her of gardening, a hobby she’d promised to give up once she was married. Graysen said he didn’t want a wife with dirt under her nails.

Back before the cauldron, she’d hoped to reason with him. Now, though, it seemed a fair compromise. He’d get an immortal wife that would almost certainly cause them to be shunned from society. And besides, she’d still have a say in the grounds. She could design it, plan it…just not execute her vision.

Graysen expected her to journey on foot to Night Court where she’d board a ship. No human ship would take her toward the faerie held territories, which meant Elain had to make her way back to the one place she’d hoped to never step foot again. It meant using more of the magic she hated. Feyre had once tried to show her and Nesta how to winnow. Nesta had refused the lesson outright but Elain, afraid she’d lose the last place she could stay if she refused, did the lessons. 

Screwing up her face, nose wrinkled, Elain called on the well of magic bubbling in her stomach. It made her want to vomit when she felt the edges of the world press in on her, constricting her breath. It was only a moment, dumping her just on the outskirt of Velaris, but enough to elicit a soft sob from her throat.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It was unfair. 

Elain wanted to rage at the few people lumbering down the street, awake despite the glittering stars overhead. Didn’t anyone care? It was as if nothing had happened. She knew they all wanted her to just get over it. Was that what Feyre had done when she’d turned? Elain wracked her brain for the memory of how Feyre became fae, but it eluded her. Elain simply didn’t care how Feyre had handled the loss of her humanity.

Feyre had likely celebrated, Elain concluded as she marched her way down the sloping road to the harbor. She’d probably been overjoyed to shed her old skin and take up the mantle of power and beauty. It suited Feyre so well, which only angered Elain more. Where was Feyre’s grief? The years of life stripped away in favor of binding her to a man she barely knew and was so old, he’d participated in the first war against the humans? 

Elain’s fingers curled to fists, feet stomping on the cobblestone. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t see the figure overing at the waters edge where stone met wood.

“Going somewhere?”

That voice clanged through her, bringing with it a veritable rising tide of emotions. Yearning. Hatred. Desire. Loathing. Elain whirled just as Lucien Vanserra, Seventh Son of Autumn, lowered the hood of his cloak. His expression was cool, arms crossed over his chest and legs spread a shoulders width apart.

She tried to shove wordlessly past him, but he used his body to block her.

“Move,” she ordered.

He didn’t.

“Turn around and go home,” he said instead, nodding his head in the direction behind her.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she whispered, her body trembling as she faced him. The wind dragged the soft, masculine scent of him directly to her and every inhuman part of her wanted him.

Elain had never hated herself more. Shame welled up in her—this was a betrayal to her engagement, to the man she’d left behind. She wasn’t supposed to want someone else. 

Lucien cocked his head, oblivious to the slant of her thoughts. Was this his poor attempt at flirting? Or worse, had he somehow known she was coming and intended to drag her off until she was so beaten down she agreed to whatever nefarious plans he had? 

“Let me guess…you think you can make a bargain with a death god in exchange for your humanity?” he whispered, banishing Elain’s shame in favor of pure, undiluted fear.

“How—no—he’s not…he’s a—”

“There is no such thing as benevolence in this land, Elain,” Lucien ground out, looking as if he hated her. Perhaps he did, though that bothered her, too. He wasn’t allowed to hate her—only she could hate him. 

“You don’t know everything—”

“And you don’t know anything,” he shot back, his contempt dripping from his words. “You’re a child fumbling about in the dark, content to damn us all if she can live out a fantasy—”

Elain slapped him. She hadn’t even thought about it. Her outrage had simply consumed her and she’d decided to hit him a split second before she did. Lucien staggered back a step, his fingers grazing his cheek as that golden eye held her wholly in place.

“Don’t you dare speak to me that way,” she whispered, voice trembling. “You are nobody. You have no home, your family hates you, and your friends would discard you the moment you’re no longer useful to them. Don’t presume you can stand there like an authority and speak down to me.”

Lucien’s brown cheeks went ashen at her words. 

“You might be right,” he told her, drawing himself to his full height. He was tall, she realized. And fae. Unlike Feyre’s mate and his friends, with their short hair and rounded ears, Lucien looked so very faerie with that magical eye and his long, auburn hair half braided off a face that had once been handsome before he’d ruined it. 

“Get out of my way—”

“I may be all the things you say, Elain, but at least I am not so spoiled, so selfish that I’d risk the lives of everyone so I might be happy.”

“Why shouldn’t I be allowed to be happy? I’ve never been given a choice—”

“You’re exercising your choice right now!” he shot back, his voice drowning hers out. “No one stopped you from hiding away with a human. One bad thing happened to you, and now you think you’re owed far more than you’ve ever given.”

“You don’t know me,” she whispered.”

“I don’t want to know you,” he replied, his own voice shaking. “Elain, from Feyre’s stories. Too spoiled and self-absorbed to care if her sister was starving, too. If she was safe, if she was happy, if she had anything comforting. She did one helpful thing once, and thinks it makes her some kind of saint.”

Elain could feel the tears gathering in her eyes. “You let Feyre die.”

“You did so first. I heard, when Tamlin came to collect her, that you hid behind your father and your sister. When a faerie general demanded I tell her Feyre’s name, I kneeled silently and let her torture me. I saved her life in the first trial. You let a faerie take her in the night. Don’t mistake us as equals, Elain.”

“We had no choice—”

“How very convenient,” he sneered. “Is that you have no choice, or you simply refuse to acknowledge your own agency?”

“This is why you remain alone, you know,” she said, wanting to hurt him as badly as he’d hurt her. She wanted to scar Lucien emotionally for daring to say the things she only ever privately thought. “And you can defend Feyre all you like, but if I went to her and showed her what you said, she would never forgive you.”

“I don’t care. Give me the ticket.” He held out his hand.

“I’ll scream.”

“Go ahead. Scream as loud as you like. Let the authorities come and take us both before Rhysand.”

Elain’s stomach bottomed out. “Please—”

“Give me the ticket.”

“You don’t understand—”

“The ticket—”

“I love him!” she cried, the tears she’d been holding back finally spilling like a dam. “Can’t you understand that? Or are you so cold you’ve never once experienced love. I will be careful how I word it, I’ll—”

“He’s a death god,” Luicen repeated, a strange, almost sad look crossing over his features before they hardened back into ice. “He’s not required to honor his bargains and you are not clever enough to beat him on your own.”

A horrible, cruel idea was forming in her head. “Come with me, then—”

“No.”

Lucien spoke the word flatly, devoid of all the hatred that had spilled from him before. Now there was simply nothing, as if his soul had left his body and all that remained was a creature that could do nothing but deny her passage. 

“He could break the bond.”

“Nothing can break the bond,” Lucien informed her in that same, soulless voice. “The Mother made it, and only she could unmake it. Just as nothing can unmake you—your human form is gone, burned away by death. If you beg the death god to free you of your faerie form, there will be nothing left of you but ash.”

“How do you know?” she demanded, wanting him to yell at her again. Anything but whatever this was. 

“I was there,” he whispered, shadow flickering over his russet eye. “He is a god, bound to the land as punishment for a crime lost to time. It wasn’t written down because we had no language, were still creatures running on four legs. Humans were mere thoughts, beasts more accustomed to the seas than to land. To think you could outsmart him is folly and foolishness. Turn around and go back to your home, Elain. Put this idea out of your mind.”

“I promised,” she half wailed, despair replacing her anger. “If I go back—”

Lucien cocked his head, some of that fire flickering back to life. “Yes?”

She pulled the ticket from her pocket and slammed it roughly into his chest. He didn’t move, fingers brushing hers as he took it before it fluttered between them.

“Even if he didn’t want me, I would never want you.”

His lip curled over his teeth. “How very fortunate for me.”

She knew it was a lie. Feyre had told her the men felt the mating bond far more strongly than women, and rejecting it often made them insane. It was tempting to break the bond right then and there and prove Lucien right. He’d accused her of being spoiled and selfish, caring only about herself. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Maybe she was vindictive, too.

But Elain was suddenly tired and a little afraid. Anxious, too, that Graysen was going to change his mind when she told him there was no bargain to be made. Suddenly Lucien didn’t matter. The fight had simply gone out of her, blinked out like the stars overhead. The sky, once inky black, had lightened to a pale violet. At any moment, the sun would fully break and the world would see her for what she was.

And she was terrified Lucien was right about her. Every accusation he’d made against her was true. She hadn’t cared, though she had known Feyre was allowing herself to be the martyr if she and Nesta were happy.

And she had hidden, hadn’t thought even once to suggest herself in place of Feyre. She’d just wanted that creature to leave, and if that meant Feyre had to leave with him, well, so be it. Knowing that Feyre had told him that, when Feyre had only ever told her such kind things about Lucien, brought back more of the shame from before. 

“None of this would have happened if you’d stood up to your High Lord,” Elain whispered, holding his gaze. Lucien’s mouth went slack and right then, she knew she’d wounded him just as thoroughly as he’d wounded her. “I may be spoiled, but you're a coward. You did this to me. I will never forgive you for it.”

She turned, then, needing to get far, far away. Elain only dared to look over her shoulder once, but Lucien was gone. Had he ever been there? The ticket was gone from her pocket, but all that remained was the tell-tale racing of her heart. She didn’t know what to do with herself, but she knew she couldn’t stay in Prythian. Feyre would learn she’d been here, if Lucien hadn’t already raced off to tattle on her.

Elain winnowed again, dumping herself with a sob on the border between Spring and the wall. Curling her knees against her chest, fingers balled into fists and pressed against her chest, she sobbed like a wounded animal. It was unfair. Nothing was as it should be. Was it selfish to simply want? Spoiled to hope for something? 

She hadn’t thrust them into poverty.

She hadn’t done anything. Lucien didn’t know anything. He was living his same life, marred only by her presence. She doubted he’d been thrilled to learn they were mates and now he was punishing her for it. Elain decided to discard his words, wiping her eyes on the edge of her sleeve. 

Elain couldn’t go back that night. She needed Graysen to believe she’d at least tried. Instead, once she felt like she could walk away, Elain stumbled through the familiar woods of the village she’d once resided in for the cottage that now rotted on the very edge. The door had been replaced, propped up to keep animals out. 

Elain stepped inside, shivering violently at the memories that came flooding back. She’d been happy here, somehow. No one else had been—Feyre and Nesta would rather have died than return. But Elain remembered how they used to sleep in that too-soft bed, jostling for blankets and space when it got cold. 

She remembered how she’d curl up around Nesta, who seemed to radiate warmth even when she was bone thin and hungry, or how, when Feyre had gotten sick, she’d slept on her back so Feyre could rest her head against Elain’s shoulder. Her younger sister had still sucked her thumb back then, whimpering softly for their mother who’d been dead for years.

Before, in the giant estate, Nesta had been consumed by her lessons and Feyre had taken to all but living in the trees, wilder than an animal. Elain had felt so isolated, trying—and often failing—to find friends that filled the gnawing void in her chest. Those friends had vanished along with the wealth, but Feyre and Nesta had remained.

They’d been her only friends for years and Elain had clung to it, in her way. Perhaps she’d done it badly, selfishly. Perhaps it was spoiled to wish nothing had ever changed. Maybe Lucien was right about her, but that didn’t mean he understood why. He didn’t know her at all, only what he believed because she hadn’t fallen into his arms.

Maybe she was spoiled and selfish, but at least she wasn’t mean. She wasn’t bitter. Lucien could only see the ugliness but standing in that cottage, Elain could still see the beauty of it all. The hope, the joy, the love. And maybe she was simply more human than she wasn’t. Humans were all the things he’d spat at her. Was she supposed to be ashamed?

Elain sighed, making her way to that one room where the bed remained. The window was still in tact, keeping the elements away. Everything looked exactly as it had been, though somehow less bright. In her memory it was all so beautiful, but here in the early morning light, it was dull. Empty.

Ordinary.

There was nothing special about any of it. For some reason, that was the biggest disappointment of the day. Elain sat on the edge of the bed, kicking up a cloud of dust that settled in her lap like fallen stars. She decided to stay for the night before trudging back to Gray and hoping he understood why she couldn’t go.

More than anything, Elain was terrified he was going to change his mind once he realized the only life available to them was one of tragedy. She wouldn’t age—but he would. They’d likely never have kids given how difficult it was for the fae to conceive. He’d be shunned from society for his choice, forced to live as an outsider.

She almost didn’t blame him if he decided she wasn’t worth the hassle.

But to Elain, it was worth it. Even if it meant watching him grow old and die—at least they’d have the time together. 

Elain ate from the rations in her little bag before curling up on the bed. It was too early to sleep, but with nothing else to do, she drifted in and out. When she couldn’t, she stared up at the ceiling and tried to banish Lucien’s voice from her head. He had no right, she decided, to say those things about her.

To her.

Night was worse—the wind howled, rattling the thin glass in the rotting wooden frame. Animals clawed at the structure before the world fell eerily silent. She supposed it was like that—the darkness was at its zenith, scaring even the wind itself. It didn’t stop her from feeling as if she was being watched. 

The dawn broke, bringing with it the realization that she’d made her choice, had burned all the bridges she might one day need to return. There was nowhere to go but back home. Elain set out, bones aching from her restless sleep, mind racing with all the possibilities of what might be waiting for her. 

It was nearly noon by the time she reached the fortress. The doors were opened to her immediately, and the sentry waiting just inside greeted her with a nervous smile. The staff was growing accustomed to her presence, their wariness often replaced with a pitying smile. It was better, she supposed, though Elain wasn’t certain she wanted to spend the rest of her life being pitied, either.

Graysen was up, dressed in his fine breeches and a rather nice blue and black jacket. He paused in the stone hall when he saw her, shadows half obscuring his face. “You’re back,” he exclaimed, eyes falling on her pointed ears. “You’re back early.”

“I can’t go,” she whispered, deciding she would just lie. She’d intended to tell him the truth, but fear gripped her heart. “When the captain learned, he…he said it was an ill omen to travel to a death god—”

“Not a death god,” Graysen interrupted, but Elain knew Lucien was right. Damn him all the same, but he was right.

“Yes, Gray. A death god,” she repeated gently. “He turned me away.”

“Then we’ll lie—”

“They can read minds, remember?” she said, telling yet another lie. He didn’t know it wasn't entirely true, though. Graysen’s face fell as he walked to her, skimming his fingers over her arms.

“What happened to you is an injustice. Is there no recourse, then? They’re just allowed to harm you and I have to sit here and make my peace with it?”

His concern was a balm for her wounded feelings. “I’m alive, at least.”

“That you are,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Still, there was a tightness to his features she didn’t like. He’d been too hopeful and now they were dashed, ruined and wilted. 

“Are you reconsidering?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “We will continue with the wedding.”

Elain sighed, relief replacing the heavy weight of fear. She could still have the life she wanted. 

And maybe, someday, she’d find something to restore her humanity.

Lucien Vanserra be damned.

[lilacxquartz]

pregnancy woes;

toji fushiguro x pregnant!reader

summary: lil drabble post, i might do more pregnant reader x jjk in the future but i got a request for a milf reader x any, so here we go! requested by @lolitamermaid123 — i hope this was what you were looking for🩵

tags/themes: pregnant reader, very in love toji, praise, validation, suggestive undertones, massage — w.c: ~700

ao3 • masterlist • more drabbles

Nothing prepared you for how lovesick Toji would be when you were carrying his second child. The guy had always been sarcastic, maybe even arrogant, but never before had he been this obsessed with you. From the moment your stomach started showing visible signs of growth; he simply couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

Despite this, you didn’t quite feel the same. You didn’t deny that the miracle of life or what have you was a beautiful prospect, yes, but it was also exhausting on your body. You were not only constantly in a state of simmering fatigue, but you were once again feeling all sorts of puffy and achy with very little that could be done to alleviate the symptoms.

Yet, Toji didn’t quite see it that way. Or maybe he saw it differently. To him, you were the living embodiment of what could have been perfection in his eyes.

Every morning, without fail, he would roll over to his side and wrap his strong arms right around you and pull you in as close as he possibly could. He would bury his face right into the crook of your neck with his large hands palming over the swell of your stomach while acting surprisingly sweet—given who he was and what he did for a living.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his breath hot against the exposed area of your flesh. His voice was lower than usual and thick with sleep.

You mumbled something out in response, although it was barely coherent. You tried to shift away slightly because as it turned out, you didn’t quite feel as hot as you usually did and his touch would only feed your insecurities even further.

“Oh no you don’t,” he teased as he pulled you closer, not quite letting you get away. He could see right past you and you were being harsh on yourself—like usual—and for no good reason.

“Toji, please…” you sighed into a weary groan, appreciating his effort but feeling groggy from all of the exhaustion. “I feel so bloated and big… you wouldn’t get it…”

Toji however simply rolled his eyes. “There you go again, talking down on yourself like that. You have no idea how sexy you look to me right now and it hurts.”

You tried to stretch the remainder of the sleep away to little avail, leaning your head back against him as you finally gave into his hold. “Yeah, well it’s hard to feel sexy right now.”

He shrugged as he didn’t back down, digging his lips even further into your skin while planting lazy kisses along your neck and shoulder. His voice was laced with want and need the more he pressed himself right against you, unable to quite let you go, if at all, “You’re not seeing my vision then, huh? You don’t get it. You look so hot, so incredible like this…”

Finally, you managed to thaw into a slight smile as his words were finally starting to get to you. Even if you didn’t quite believe him fully, Toji had a knack for making you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world. His attention to you was dedicated and you were his only focus.

“Would be better if I wasn’t so achy though,” you slightly whined while attempting to straighten out your back.

He hummed at your statement, seemingly forming an idea in his mind. “How about a massage then? Give me an excuse to keep my hands on you.”

“That could be nice…” you admitted.

“Yeah,” Toji murmured, repositioning you gently so that you laid against his lap with your back in between his legs. You could tell that he was very excited to this, given what else you felt. “I’ll knock those knots clean out of you, babe. You won’t even know what tension is.”

“I’ll hold you to that one,” you replied, feeling already relieved from just how well his hands could work into your shoulders, kneading and squeezing in all of the right places.

In turn, he leaned down to press a kiss on top of your head as he slowly felt you come undone and relax in his company. “Trust me,” he added, “I'll do anything to help you feel good, you’re doing all the hard work after all in getting our next kid here. So leave it to me to take care of you.”

[turcott3]

be my baby

brandt clarke x fem! reader

warnings?: kissing, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, flufffffff

masterlist

-

“mmm” you groaned as you were awakened by the sensation of your boyfriends lips latched on you neck, his hands placed around your waist, you hands finding their way to his torso.

“good morning.” he says quietly, pressing smooth kisses to your jawline as you smiled, eyes lightly shut, content with your boyfriends affection.

“morning.” you sigh, opening your eyes, taking his cheeks into your hands and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“you look so beautiful right now.” he smiles, brushing the hair out of your face.

“right now?” you reply, cocking an eyebrow.

“i mean, you look perfect all the time, i just wan-“

“brandt i was kidding, thank you m’love.” you mumble against his cheek, his hands wandering closer to your bum.

“always.” he replies confidently, running a soft thumb over your cheek bone, bringing your lips back to his lovingly. you felt a certain electricity in this kiss that told you this was gonna go all the way. your heart thumping in your chest.

he helped you tug your shirt off over your head, hardly connecting your lips, his hands cupping gently around your exposed breasts, giving them a slight squeeze, rolling over so he’s leaned over you in nothing but boxers, what he slept in.

“can’t wait to love on my girl.” he mumbles, kissing your jawline, running his hands down your waist.

“can’t wait to show her how beautiful she is, and how much i love her, and how good she is for me.”

“brandt please.” you whine, growing wetter by the moment, trying to nicely get him to shut up and fuck you. he chuckles as he runs two fingers over the fabric of your underwear, pushing it to the side.

“patience baby, promise we’ll get there.” he giggles.

“you’re taking forever, less talking, more fucking. and kiss me please, i miss your lips.” you frown as he smiles, bringing his lips back to yours with no hesitation, sliding himself inside you simultaneously, your moan muffled by his lips. you could feel the smile on his cheeks as he thrusted deeply and slowly, feeling every inch of his thick cock pumping in and out of you. you gripped onto his back as he picked up his pace a little bit, his lips latching back onto your neck just like they were when he woke you up, nipping lightly in the skin as your fingers tangled in his soft, ginger, locks .

“so fucking good baby, so good for me.” he mutters, locking eyes with you as he snapped his hips into yours, a moan quickly turning to a yelp.

“oh my god brandt.” you groan as he speeds up, your walls tightening slowly around him as he hounded your pussy, pumping as deep as he could get, leaving room for absolutely nothing else.

you locked eyes with him, your heart growing more and more as you saw nothing but love in his eyes. you could feel how pure his love for you was simply in the way he held you as he made love to you. he held you like you were a delicate piece of art work, he would never dare to hurt you. he wouldn’t dream of it.

you were obsessed with the way his cock fit inside you, the way his lips fit onto yours like a perfect match, the way his grip on you was so protective, and loving. you were obsessed with him, and he pushed you to your limit, quicker than you ever could with any other man.

“you’re getting so tight, fuck, cum for me baby. i’m getting so fucking close.” he grunts as your nails dig harshly into his skin.

“fuck.” you whine as you’re pushed over the edge, spilling over into your climax as his cock twitches, filling you to the brim with his own, the milky substance dripping from you as he pulled out breathlessly.

“made such a mess.” you tease as he runs his tip through it.

“i did.” he smirks, you reaching down to pump his, still hard, cock.

“again?” he asks and you nod, him instantly diving back into you.

-

“whatcha making?” you ask, drying your hair with a towel as you walk into the kitchen after a quick shower to recover from the multiple fuckings you’d just received.

“well, i’m making waffles, but im trying this new batter i saw.” he says, nodding to a box on the counter.

“you saw where? brandt we never go grocery shopping.” you laugh.

“instacart exists y/n. we are adults okay.” he scoffs, sliding you the box.

“protein waffles?”

“yeah, i figure it would be good since we just worked out intensely for like two hours.” he says in that voice you always adore.

“yeah i guess you’re right. you know, you’re really getting me in shape.”

“guess we should keep it up huh?” he says with a cheesy grin, turning his head to face you and you giggle, latching onto his arm, watching him open the waffle iron.

“yeah we should, maybe even more.” he say raising your eyebrows.

“and i thought i was the dirty one.” he scoffs, making you a plate and handing it to you, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as you made your way to the couch.

“enjoy my love, i hope they’re good.” he says as you walk off.

“baby, anything you cook and put effort into is good.” you reply, taking a bite.

“really? i really don’t feel like im a good cook. i don’t know maybe i just didn’t pay attention in the kitchen that much when i was growing up. my mom loves cooking, im really surprised she didn’t teach me at least the….” he continues, but you’ve tuned his voice out, watching your boyfriend talk was one of your favorite things, god he yapped, but you adored him the most for it.

you watched as he continued talking about cooking, making each waffle carefully, his tongue occasionally poking out of the corner of his mouth during pauses between sentences, zoning out on his gorgeous jawline and perfect side profile.

“y/n? y/n.” he finally says, snapping you back into reality.

“what? huh? sorry.” you reply, him giggling at the bright shade of red your face turned when he caught you admiring him.

you’d never adored a guy so much. his cheesy giggle, his ginger hair, his bright smile and most importantly the way he treated you, it was pure perfection.

he was the one lover any girl would dream of, you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him again, as soon as you could.

[twilightarcade]

if I was a character I would've gotten non binary headcannoned so hard

[a-blip-of-billdip]

this isnt what i usually post on this blog but I'm already sick of all the memes and 'jokes'. I am almost certainly leaving the fandom for good now because of the book of bills release and NO it is not because billford's community has an influx of supporters.

So the worship and romanticization of asylums and other abusive practices for mental health have been steadily gaining traction in recent years, especially with the rise of tiktok's toxicity.

SO many people, especially younger people, regularly talk about how they want lobotomies or how women they don't like should be lobotomized. They get tattoos of lobotomy like it's some quirky fun thing and not one of the most horrific tortures someone can endure.

These same people, ESPECIALLY leftists, will look at anyone they disagree with or don't like and say "get institutionalized, loser" or "et therapy" and it's always in a mocking way. it's always in a policing way.

because these people know that mental wards strip everyone of their freedom and their bodily autonomy. they know these places arent for healing--theyre for silencing.

So the amount of people i see treating bill being institutionalized like a good thing---even the writers and alex himself?

Yeah. Im out ✌🏼

[adonis-koo]

not only would sweet nothing!JK love MC if she was a worm, he would build her an entire tank full of fresh mulch and it’s own eco system <3

[triglycercule]

i come up with ideas based on the most random things because wdym i just rambled on about fucking fingers and decided,,,, heh,,,,, yeah. this is a good idea. well i mean i do think it IS a good idea but also like in hindsight and out of context i do think its totally fucking stupid. angel92 ahh post 💀💀💀

anyways i was thinking about mtt and fingers and which ones they would lose as a result of being with eachother but then that also means that i'd have to give specific meanings to the fingers (ughhhh,,,,,) ok lets see. pointer finger would represent precision and clear vision because you literally use it to specifically gesture to things. middle finger is like ughh vulgarity and hatred because its the middle finger. the ring finger (heh! i already spoke about this one because of the myth that its connected to the heart and also holds wedding rings) represents love and the pinkie represent promise (PINKIE PROMISE!) and the thumb represents basic functioning and interpretations (because the thumb helps us literally hold things and also thumbs up and down shows your view on things)

i think if i just tack this idea onto the other post about ring fingers then it would be kinda unrealted + plus too long SO ITS GOING HERE. all the mtt are missing ring fingers because i said so. dust is missing an index finger because if the trio break up he's the only one that wouldnt have anywhere/one to go. also he'd struggle to smoke and i think that horror would always complain about him smoking so it'd be like horror's still kinda there warding him off from smoking even though he's not there anymore. horror would lose his middle finger because he'd probably be the most agressive against kist in mttpoly and now without them there he's kinda chilled out. but also the agression and spark isnt there and now he's stuck in plain old boring regular horrortale again which isnt all that fun,,,, even if dust an killer sucked fighting was a way to pass time. but horror would never admit that. and i think killer could lose a thumb (ill be fr im just running out of fingers to use here. next thing yk i'll start talking about TOES) and then he'd struggle to hold knives normally now. he literally can't hurt others the way he hurt horror and dust (but also that could also mean that killer just has to come up with more creative ways to main. or also his reduced actions could result in him causing less trouble and therefore having less threats. depends on if killer wants to be a bit more knife happy or just chil,,,,,, you KNOW i gotta go with the knife happy idea mtt NEVER get a break and if they do i immediately forget about it)

dude imagine them with all these missing fingers 💀💀💀 that shit would lookd SO weird

[slytherinslut0]

jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons

author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.

-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.

Draco Malfoy.

Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.

“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”

Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.

Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.

His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.

He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.

“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”

He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.

Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.

“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”

He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.

“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”

Blaise Zabini.

Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.

He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.

When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.

This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.

He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.

You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.

After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.

“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.

Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.

Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.

His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.

You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.

He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.

“Who was that guy, darling?”

You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.

“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”

He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”

You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”

Mattheo Riddle.

“Who the fuck-“

Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.

You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.

You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.

Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.

You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,

“Is this fucker bothering you?”

Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.

“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“

He’d heard more than enough.

“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”

Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:

“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”

Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.

And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.

When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”

You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.

Theodore Nott.

He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.

Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-

Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.

Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.

Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.

His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.

He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.

“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”

As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.

Tom Riddle.

“AVADA KEDA-“

Lowkey kidding but not really.

No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.