#I went through hell trying to draw the second one
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Headlock.
#tifa lockhart#sephiroth#final fantasy vii#ff7#ff7r#my art#fan art#I lied. I like the first 1 better#I went through hell trying to draw the second one
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doodles
edgar vargas and squee by johnen vasquez
scriabin by zarla-s
#sunny's art#vargas#edgar vargas#vargas zarla#scriabin vargas#zarla s#scriabin#doodles#YOU THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME . . . . !!!!#well HELLO !!!! I'M BACK !!!!!!!!#got a new brush . what do you think of it do you like it#okay i want to ramble about these wait a second#the first one looks a bit different to the rest because i was just trying new stuff .#if i spend a long time without drawing i'll forget how to draw and well it happened#i've changed my art style like 3 times now but i still draw side profiles the same . looks weird ugh#the mug says “ JESUS loves me BECAUSE no one else will ” btw . meta gave me the idea actually . thanks meta .#about the second one . finished that one like ten minutes ago . missed drawing todd aw#i just find their whole relationship so amusing .#like yes i went crazy for like a month and now i have a brother-husband and a kid ?!#they complement each other so well though . i love them#THE UNO ONE omg i've had that idea for like A YEAR NOW and i just drew it lol#i wonder how long it would take scriabin to notice though .#when i showed this to meta she said : “ oh wow !! edgar's finally winning at something !! ” and it's SO TRUE#wonder how he does it !#and the last one . i got the idea when i was looking through zarla's account searching for fan art .#love it so much though they look like their lives aren't a living hell#anyways i'll probably make more of these . who knows#going back to school on monday . and of course i had to get inspiration four days before going back .#please PLEASE I DON'T WANT TO GET BACK TO SCHOOL . PL#okay byeee enjoy these . eat my starved followers . EAT !!!!!
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❥ being megumi's kindergarten teacher
warnings: fem! reader, teacher x single dad trope, BREEDING, rough sex, spanking, toji is a whore, not proofread at all (i wrote this while i was at work), toji is a decent father in this, megumi and tsumiki mentioned
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 628
i'll be so fr i do not like this but,,,whatever
The first thing Toji Fushiguro noticed about you was your hips. You were bent over your desk, shuffling through some children's drawings, trying to find Megumi’s from the day before. Tojo tried with all his might not to smack your ass, but his kid was watching. Gotta make a good impression, right?
Toji waited until Megumi ran off to play with his playgroup to hit on you; he was a good dad in that sense. He waited until your back was turned, hunching over your form with a smirk on his face. The heat from his breath tickled the baby hairs on your neck, his hands hovering just above your belly.
“I never knew Megumi had such a fine teacher,” he would purr in your ear, messy bangs hanging over his face. You’d blush and turn around, not expecting Toji to be that attractive. Tsumiki usually dropped Toji off, her class was just down the hall from Megumi’s. But damn, Mr. Fushiguro was fine as hell. You’d lecture him about how he was being entirely too inappropriate, fraternizing with his son’s teacher. But Toji remained smug as ever. Tsumiki never dropped Megumi off again after that day, it was just Toji.
His favorite part of the weekday was dropping Megumi off, walking over to you, and admiring how your face exploded in a bright red hue the second Toji opened his scarred lips, He loved seeing your modest skirt wrapped so perfectly around your hips, around your waist. How the turtleneck sweater you wore hugged your breasts so perfectly that it had to be intentional.
Every weekday, Toji would flirt with you. Whispering filth into your ear when the kids were distracted with their fingerpaintings. His large hand would grope the fat of your hips, squeezing them between his fingers while he inserted the most lewd ideas in your head. “I wonder how pretty you’d look bent over for me, hm?” he smirked, removing his hand from your hips as the first bell rang. “My place, Saturday, 10 PM. Don’t be late.”
And you were there right on time, wearing the sluttiest dress you had. Toji practically pounced on you, dragging you up the stairs of his townhouse and throwing you onto his messy bed. He instantly tore that dress off of you and that cute matching underwear set.
You’d yelp in surprise as his fingers plunged into you from behind, scissoring you open with ease. He’d pull his fingers out of your dripping core, shoving them inside your mouth for you to suck. He wouldn’t even wear a condom before pushing himself into your tight cunt, why would he? Wouldn’t you look so cute with another one of his babies in your belly? Tits full of milk for him and his brat?
Toji didn’t stop after his second orgasm, no sir. This motherfucker went seven rounds with you; seven fucking orgasms rippled through him as he filled you up once more from all different angles and areas of his townhouse. Bent over the kitchen counter, mating press on the living room floor, riding him on the couch while the TV played. Toji didn’t care how overstimulated you were, you were his. And you were gonna belong to him even more as soon as he knocked you up.
Of course, you went to work the following Monday, insisting on not sitting down because it’s ‘important for the students to see an adult not being lazy.’ When in reality, your ass stung so much from Toji’s spanks that it was painful to sit for long durations of time. Every fucking morning and afternoon that week, Toji flashed you his usual shit-eating grin because he knew you would come crawling back to him, begging to be fucked stupid once more.
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#toji fushigro x reader#toji fushiguro smut
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hell bent | yoon jeonghan
› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, fluff, smut (18+) › word count: 12.7k
› 🎧: this man – jxw
› special thanks to @gyuswhore who helped me proofreading this 🩵
› this is part 4 of the curse - hannieween fest
› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️
› warnings: hurt/comfort! major character death scene (it's not described in great detail), resurrection, grief, injury, blood, alcohol consumption, smut with plot, sex dreams, unprotected p in v, creampie and pull-out method, corruption kink, exhibitionism, love making, jeonghan is down bad, breeding kink, oral sex, pussy drunk jeonghan, buff jeonghan. pet names: baby (hers)
› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂
hell bent
JEONGHAN SAT ON THE GROUND FOR WHAT FELT LIKE AN ETERNITY. He stared at the horizon until the darkness dissolved and the sun rose. The weight in his arms increased as the seconds went by until he grew numb and cold in the morning mist.
He blinked when the sunlight started to hurt his eyes. His throat was sore and dry from screaming, and his fists were bloody. But that did not matter. All that mattered was gone. He looked down where you lay motionless in his arms. Cold and bloody.
Hours had dragged on, and the time to move was drawing near. But he feared that if he moved, reality would set in. He cupped your cheek, kissing your forehead before pressing his own on yours, and waited. He waited for you to open your eyes, to feel your take in a breath.
It was over.
He got up, carrying your limp body in his arms. Once on his feet, the weight of your body caused a deep blow to his chest.
You laid on the backseat of his car as he drove aimlessly until he found a place deserted enough to hide. A place to bury your body.
The hole he dug in the ground was surrounded by trees, small patches of grass that grew small flowers attracting butterflies in, and in the distance, he could hear the chirping of birds. You looked peacefully asleep once he laid you there.
It was over. The torture was over. The pain, the suffering, all of that. And for a small moment, he thought you were smiling.
When Jeonghan stumbled upon the headquarters, he did not even bother knocking, because they saw his car parked on the driveway of the old manor.
Seungcheol opened the door, a bewildered look on his face, mouth parted, brows drawn inward. “What happened to you?” he asked, stepping aside to let Jeonghan in.
Jeonghan hugged his arm to his body. “Is Joshua here?” he asked instead, hurrying to the hospital wing of the manor.
“What’s happening?” Joshua raised his head, standing up from the desk pushed to the far end of the long room. His gaze fell on Jeonghan and got to work in an instant. “Sit,” he motioned to one of the beds.
Jeonghan obliged, letting out a pained groan as he sat down. “I need a favor,” he forced out, sitting still as Joshua grabbed a pair of scissors, cutting through Jeonghan’s zipper hoodie to reveal the deep cut from the shoulder to the elbow.
“Tell me what happened to you,” Joshua asked softly, it sounded like a routine question. But Jeonghan knew it was genuine curiosity. Joshua sat down on a stool beside the bed, examining all the damage done.
“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan muttered. “I need you to do something for me.”
Seungcheol stood before the bed, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m listening.”
Jeonghan took in a breath, mustering the courage to speak as pain throbbed inside him. “In the outskirts of Veridian Bay, some three kilometres south, are three dead hunters.”
“Shit,” he hissed. “Demons? Were you with them?”
Jeonghan shook his head, swallowing hard. “I killed them.”
Both Joshua and Seungcheol stopped dead in their tracks. Hunter deaths were common, and they were just reported, families were contacted in some cases. But most of the time, they went unnoticed. But hunters killing other hunters was something out of the ordinary.
“Jeonghan, what happened?” Joshua asked slowly and with a tone laced with concern.
Jeonghan shuddered, shaking his head again. “I can’t,” he choked out. “I just need that taken care of. I couldn’t go back to get them.”
Seungcheol ran a palm on his face, and Jeonghan knew he would not let this go easily. But he just nodded and turned around to strut out of the hospital wing. “Consider it done.”
Jeonghan and Joshua waited quietly, sitting very still until the loud noise of the front door slamming shut announced that they were alone. In the distance, the roar of Seungcheol’s bike echoed throughout the clear of the vicinity, growing more and more distant as he drove away.
Joshua continued working, cleaning the wound on Jeonghan’s arm, sending glances to his face to both measure how much painJeonghan was experiencing and to wait for him to talk.
“They killed her,” Jeonghan croaked, closing his eyes as a painful shudder swarmed inside him, threatening to break his mind.
“The hunters?” Joshua murmured.
“They came for her, I couldn’t do anything. She was gone before I could get to her,” he whispered, his face contorting in pain from the first puncturing of the needle stitching his skin back together, and the image of you lying on the ground.
“It has been months since we last talked, Jeonghan,” Joshua mentioned, carefully closing one stitch. “What changed?”
Jeonghan shook his head, refusing to open his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me,” Joshua replied, his gentle tone easing some of the anxiousness in Jeonghan’s mind.
Jeonghan opened his eyes, finding his best friend sitting beside him. “Do you know anything about bonds?” he asked, waiting until Joshua nodded reluctantly. “Pacts, deals, promises… everything we were taught in training, you know that they are binding contracts with demons.”
Joshua frowned. “Did you make a pact with her?” he asked knowingly.
“Much worse,” Jeonghan replied, adding an empty smile that felt crazy to him. “She was bound to me and I to her since we were born.”
Joshua blinked a couple of times, tilting his head to one side and lowering his medical tools just a little. His gaze glided over the features of Jeonghan’s weary and dirty face, waiting for him to elaborate.
“You know,” Jeonghan asserted once his best friend remained quiet. “Did you know about this?”
Joshua sent his gaze upward, outlining the corners of the room pensively. “I’m never on the field, not like you and Seungcheol. I stay here, I patch all of you up and in the meantime, I hear the stories you bring from out there.”
“Please get to the point,” Jeonghan gritted, bracing himself for more physical pain as Joshua resumed stitching his arm up.
“I’ve heard stories, yeah,” Joshua mumbled, carefully adding another stitch. “When you told me about her, I just wondered about it. But you never showed up again, so I couldn’t tell you anything.”
Jeonghan sighed in resignation. “She is my soulmate,” he said, the word coming out with enough weight to make his heart protest in pain.
“How do you feel?” Joshua pulled back to take a surveying look.
“I buried her… She’s gone,” Jeonghan mumbled dejectedly, his gaze falling out of focus, lost in the distance. “She’s gone.”
The small patches of flowers surrounding the place where you lay, would they grow over you? Do you like flowers?
“Sounds like you cared about her,” Joshua whispered, finishing up the last stitch.
“Everything happened so fast,” Jeonghan went on, swallowing his tears. “I couldn’t get to her in time. I felt her pain. I felt the last beating of her heart.”
Joshua stopped, the pause was minimal, but it meant something. “You felt it?”
Jeonghan nodded in sharp, but tiny motions. “They tried to cut her wings,” he whispered in a near-crazed look flashing his eyes. Jeonghan was lost in the memory, trying to retrace every move he made upon finding you, but he could not remember what he did to those hunters.
“Jeonghan, what do you mean you felt it?” Joshua pressed, his tone more urgent and Jeonghan could tell that his friend was worried about him.
“The bond. We can sense each other through it,” he said, his voice breaking halfway through the sentence.
“But not anymore?” Joshua prodded, his tone gentle and cautious, fearing that his friend might be losing touch with reality.
“Not anymore,” Jeonghan breathed in, his chest stammering as he suppressed a sob, tears welling up in his eyes.
“And the bond?” Joshua lifted his gaze from the work he was doing, his tone rose in worry.
“It’s still there,” Jeonghan sniffled, crestfallen as tears rolled down his cheeks. “It’s still calling me to her, there’s just no receiving end.”
Joshua left his tools on the cart beside him, discarding the rags filthy with blood. He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders going slack. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he muttered, gently patting Jeonghan’s back, then bringing his hand to the back of his head, caressing as if to soothe him.
But there was nothing that could ever soothe Jeonghan’s pain. The emptiness inside him seemed to ache at its edges, his mind felt shaken with the reality he was thrust into. It seemed insane that it had been hours since he kissed you, eager with the prospect of starting fresh with you.
And now you were gone.
There was no point in cursing at life’s way to mock him anymore. Jeonghan thought this was the way he was paying for all the times he neglected you, all the times he hurt you. But the selfish part in him wished that life had given him the opportunity to say goodbye to you.
Jeonghan’s heart broke the night he lost you.
Despite everything that happened, he tried to move on. He convinced himself that life still went on and that you would have wanted him to move forward.
He kept your memory alive through small things. Some mornings he would go to a diner and order pancakes with syrup and bacon. When he was alone in his room, he would pretend you were there with him. He would imagine hearing your laugh, the small sounds you made when you slept.
It was the first month since you were gone. Jeonghan never had the opportunity to know what your favorite flowers were if you even liked receiving flowers. So he routinely left a different bouquet of flowers on the grave he made for you. He left lilies, the first time he went to visit you, one hand holding the bouquet, the other holding a bottle of rum.
He sat on the ground, leaning back against the trunk of a tree. The clear was quiet and dense with humidity, his senses stimulated by the smell of wet grass and dirt.
There was a peace that filled the emptiness inside him as he sat beside your grave. As though the bond could rest easy once he was there, even though there was no response from you.
Jeonghan grabbed the bottle with one hand around its neck and tipped a generous amount of rum in his mouth. Exhaling harshly, he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “At least we have our answer, eh?” Jeonghan muttered glumly.
The next time he went there, some three weeks later, he brought you petunias. He thought that they would look good along with the wild chamomiles that were growing around you. This time he realized that he did not bring a bottle with him, and he did not need it. He just sat there, content with the peace that being near you brought him.
The third month you laid there, he brought you peonies. This time, he bought them with the memory of your glinting eyes the last and only time he saw you with joy and love glowing all around you.
He stood before the grave with his hands inside his pockets, looking at the ground adorned with flowers. “I don’t even know if you liked flowers,” he said, an empty smile curving his lips. “But I don’t know what else people leave on graves.”
With a tired sigh, he sat down on the ground, tucking his legs in a butterfly position. His fingers toyed with the grass growing in patches beneath him. The stillness of the clearing offered him the moment for reflection; he ventured again with questions about you. He never wondered about what the afterlife would look like, but sometimes he liked to think that there was some preternatural way you could listen to him.
“Shua saw me with flowers this morning,” he said, chuckling awkwardly. “He said nothing, just told me to come back before sundown. I think he’s known for a while that I come here to visit you.” He raised his gaze, finding the sunlight filtering through the thicket of the trees, bathing him. “He’s a good friend, I think you would like him.”
Jeonghan lowered his gaze to the flowers sitting on the ground. He propped one elbow on his knee, resting his chin on his fist. “I almost didn’t come here this time,” he muttered guiltily, filling his chest with air to try to push the ache inside him.
It was as though the mere thought of not coming here to visit you made the bond protest. When you were alive, it was the mad craving for you that did not allow him to stay away for long. Now, it was just a thing that pulsated inside him, calling for you.
He breathed in, filling his lungs with the humid air of the quiet forest, trying to gulp down the knot coiling around his throat. “I miss you,” he whispered to the ground, his eyes brimming with hot tears. “I wish I could go back and do things differently with you… I wish I hadn’t been so stupid.”
He stood up, dusting the dirt from his hands while contemplating whether he wanted to say goodbye to you or not. Instead, he turned and walked away from the clear, enjoying the chirping of the birds keeping you company as he returned home.
Jeonghan returned to the manor, where he had been living since that night. The smell of food distracted him before he went to his designated room, so he just walked to the kitchen, finding Joshua busy preparing dinner.
“You’re back,” Joshua muttered gently, but the look he sent was weary. “I thought you’d be gone for longer.”
“There was not much to do,” he muttered offhandedly.
Joshua set a plate on the small dining table motioning to Jeonghan to the chair. “That’s for you,” he said.
“Thanks,” Jeonghan replied, sitting down with a tired groan. He kept an eye on his friend, pacing around the kitchen of the old manor. “What’s up with you?”
“Just thinking,” Joshua muttered, serving a plate for himself, and sat down in front of Jeonghan, occupying a space on the table too. “Ever tried summoning her?”
Jeonghan’s eyes went wide, his heart stammering for a split second. “What?” he choked out.
Joshua took the fork into his mouth and nodded, munching his food with ease, as though he was having the most normal conversation on the planet. “Have you ever tried summoning her?” he repeated slowly.
“No,” he replied, his tone coming out like a question.
“Mmm, I see,” he said, taking his cup to drink with long and generous gulps.
“Why?” Jeonghan asked, but his friend kept drinking.
Joshua shrugged. “I just thought that you might’ve tried it at least once.”
“Why would I do that?” Jeonghan frowned, the ache palpitating strongly in his chest. “She’s gone.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that,” Joshua replied, lowering his gaze in shame.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning your cheek against the side of his head. The sighs slowly turned into moans, spilling out of your lips relentlessly as you rolled your hips on him, fucking him slowly. “Jeonghan,” your voice called.
“I know, baby,” he replied, enjoying the feeling he got whenever he was with you, it was bright and alive and dancing on his skin. “I feel it too,” he whispered.
You moved your hands to cup his face, pressing a hard kiss on his lips as you started moving your hips on him faster. “I love you,” you breathed.
Jeonghan moaned, wrapping you with his arms to flip the positions on the bed, pressing your body against the mattress. “I love you,” he replied, a shudder overpowering him, making him utter your name, over and over as he made love to you.
He pressed his body against the hard mattress, calling your name again as he woke up violently with an exasperated sigh. Rubbing his hands against his face, he shook himself from the merciless dream he had of you. “Gods,” he choked out, covering his face in shame, breathing hard against his hands. “Fuck, fuck!”
The hole in his chest pulsated painfully, desperately calling out to you to no end. As he closed his eyes, gathering himself, he saw you in the eye of his mind. Your sweet smile, every curve of your body.
It seemed a true tragedy that he could feel you in his dreams only. He felt your skin, he felt the bond responding to you the way it used to when you were alive. It was the first time he dreamed of you since you left, and he suspected it would not be the last.
This was his burden to bear. And he would have to endure it.
When Jeonghan first met you, he could not make sense of the pull he felt. His surroundings warped and everything focused on you, on your face, your eyes, even your smell. Jeonghan did not feel the very particular repulsion he always felt whenever he came in close contact with a demon.
But he wished to. He tried to force himself to recoil at the thought of you, after he met you. But everything inside him made him want to walk right back to that pub where you used to work. In the back of his mind, he saw the doors to the pub, the bar, he wanted to go there one more time and see you.
It felt wrong. It felt so dirty and sticky to even think about you without recoiling. But Jeonghan was strong-willed, and very diligent on his job, so he just kept himself to his business. Tracking and getting rid of demons. But somehow, he could not get near you again, even if everything in his life obligated him to track you, hunt you.
Time went on like this, his mind plagued with the morbid curiosity to go back to that pub and see you again. In his dreams, he saw your eyes, he heard your voice make out the same exact words you told him the night he met you. He heard your voice utter your name, the sound echoing in the back of his mind as he tried to continue with his life.
Until one night, when something unfortunate happened.
It was one of those sleepless nights, Jeonghan decided to go on a night watch out of town. He was tracking some demon activity he was informed of nights ago. This demon apparently had a pattern which was not a rarity, demons could tend to go for certain humans at a certain time, it was not weird.
But apparently, this demon liked to hunt a particular kind of human; humans that were either wanted criminals or suspects of a crime, people that liked transgressing against their own in the worst ways imaginable. And that was something worth noting to Jeonghan, it made this demon easy to catch.
Or at least, that is what he had thought.
Night after night, Jeonghan had no luck falling asleep and when he went out to track this demon, he had no luck focusing on the task at hand. He was on the verge of calling it a night, wanting to fall asleep in his car, or in the nearest motel he could find. Walking aimlessly on the side of the road, he realized that it would take him about twenty minutes to get to where he parked his car and sighed.
A small shiver ran down his spine as if the line of his back was being stroked with the tip of a paintbrush. His eyelids fluttered in response, and his chest felt strange, like overcome by a fuzzy sensation.
He needed to be alert, he thought. A demon was around, and he could sense it. Stopping his lazy gait, he sent his gaze to scope his surroundings, through the thicket of trees flanking the lonely road.
But as the feeling inside him returned, and more intensely, he realized that he was in danger. A rustle of leaves echoed at the other side of the road where he stood, and slowly, a figure emerged from the trees, it moved gracefully and gently. A pair of dark horns distorted the shadow.
As he reached for the knife strapped to his thigh, he realized that he only felt endangered because it was you who moved through the shadows of the forest. And he wanted to avoid you above all.
“I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see you again,” your voice reached him like a gentle caress on his mind.
“What are you doing here?” Jeonghan said, not removing his fist from the handle of his knife. “Are you following me?”
You tilted your head to one side, a smirk spreading on your lips. “Why, are you afraid of me?” you mused, laughing lightly. But when he did not reply to your quip, you just shrugged. “I came out because I was craving a snack. But I think you might suffice.”
His fist tightened around the handle, his eyes quickly reading your stance, but you remained leaning on your side to the trunk of the tree.
“Relax, hunter,” you said, tossing your hair from your shoulder to your back and crossing your arms. “Have a little laugh, you look tense.”
Jeonghan stood his ground, lifting his chin to analyze you a bit further. “Did you kill any humans tonight?”
“No, not yet,” you picked your nails, trying to appear as uninterested in his questioning as possible, but your heart was running a mile per second. Being around Jeonghan was thrilling, it made you feel full in your chest and every nerve beneath your skin to call for him.
“But you will,” he said, realizing that it was you, the demon he was looking for. The demon that only fed on men that hurt women and children.
“Well, a girl’s gotta eat,” you sighed, pushing yourself off the tree and taking a step toward him.
He tensed up at that instant, one foot stepping back but then he decided to hold his ground, trying to resist walking away. You were dangerous, and he did not know what set you apart from other demons.
You ignored the fact that he still had a hand on his knife, and he was very much as lethal as you were. Taking some steps to where he stood still, you coiled one finger around a strand of hair, smiling when you realized that he was not afraid of you, but weary.
“You seem like you need a night off,” you pointed, coming closer to him to take a fuller look at his face, seeing the bags under his lifeless eyes, and the dry skin on his lips.
“Don’t come any closer,” Jeonghan warned, rigid with the question of why he could not make his muscles move in any direction.
“Or what?” you asked, standing in front of him. “Are you going to kill me, hunter?” you asked, your eyes glimmering in the dark, full of curiosity.
“If you take another step I might,” Jeonghan replied with certainty, something in him stirring with a strange fascination when you smiled at the clear warning.
“No, you won’t,” you countered, giving him one of those looks that made him feel more uneasy. “You’re not at full strength, you’re tired, and hungry. And worst of all, you feel like you can’t move, am I right?”
It was like you could read into his soul, he thought. Your words were like wildfire spreading inside him, it made his insides boil with rage. Part of him wondered why he was made this uncomfortable and angry at something one demon said. Demons spoke out of the need to lure hunters into a trap, and this was no different. But this trap seemed so tempting.
To drive your point further, you took another step, inches away from Jeonghan.
“I make you nervous,” you whispered, fascination glinting on your eyes as you wallowed. “What are you going to do, Jeonghan? You can’t run away, and you can’t attack me, so what’s your next move?”
His breathing shifted when his name fell from your lips. He had never felt this way, he realized. The quick pulse, the fluttering in his stomach, the shaky breathing, he knew how nervousness felt, but this was entirely new to him.
“Hm?” you pressed, tilting your head to one side as you nearly stood on your tiptoes to level with him. “Come on, no one’s going to judge you if you run away, and I won’t tell a soul,” you showed him a mischievous smile, one that he might have hated if it were not for the tight feeling invading him wholly.
As you stood before him, one thing became painfully clear to him: he was attracted to you. It was something simply physical, or that was what he tried to convince himself. Maybe it was your pretty face, your velvety tone, the grace in which you moved. Not only that, as he casted a look down to meet your face, he also had a glimpse of your frame and the thought of wanting to meet every curve of your body was alluring.
So alluring that he wanted to surrender to it.
At that, your eyes shone more intensely. Again, as though you had a secret line to his thoughts, and you just had discovered what he was thinking.
But you sighed with faux disappointment. “And here I thought you were fun,” you pouted in mockery. “Pity. I guess I’ll just go and have fun elsewhere,” you moved again, walking around his body once, as though taking another full look at him. “Bye, hunter.”
And then you sunk into the line of trees again, disappearing from his view. But his senses were already tuned and following you, so he could hear every step you took down the forest. And he could not help but take a step in your direction as well.
That night, he chased you down the forest, his heart beating in a frenzy, his mind blank but with only one intention. You started sprinting, laughing lightly when he kept with your pace and ran closely behind you.
When Jeonghan was finally within reach, he grabbed your arm, turning you around and messing up your step. You stumbled back against a tree, realizing that he had calculated this because his arms were caging you in on both of your sides.
Jeonghan brought a hand to your throat, his fingers pressing on your skin harshly, his strength subsiding once he felt your pulse. But his face, riddled with confusion and frustration at the same time, his mouth parted a little as he could not bring himself to say anything. His gaze swam over the features of your pretty face, stopping once on your eyes, your lips.
The moment was deadly quiet as you witnessed the fire inside him die down slowly once he came in contact with you, skin on skin. It was game over, you knew it, and Jeonghan did too. There was a quiet exchange of glances right before Jeonghan dipped his head and you closed your eyes, gulping on air as his lips met your own with a swift kiss.
What possessed him to do that, Jeonghan did not know, but he was not in the position to ask himself any more questions because he did it again. Kissing you now with abandon, his lips sinking in between yours, making out with you like he never had with anyone else. You moaned into the kiss, sending him into a frenzy.
It was as though you were both committing a crime, and none of you would say a word. You grabbed him by the flaps of the black leather jacket, pulling him impossibly closer to your body, the proximity making your chest feel fuller, your blood heating up.
He released his grip on your throat, his fingers sliding down your torso to undo the button of your blouse. The next moves were rushed, as though neither of you wanted to stop and question what you were about to do. And the forest around you stood silent too, being witness to the fateful deed.
In seconds, Jeonghan had you pressed against the trunk of the tree, your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt hiked up your tummy, your chest naked and exposed to him. You sneaked a hand between your body and his, reaching for his hard cock to guide it to your entrance for him to sink inside you, making you feel every inch of his dick in one go.
The first stroke set your whole body aflame. Your mouth fell open, but no sound came out as Jeonghan wasted no time and started fucking you with hard thrusts, not giving you time to adjust to the stretch of his cock. The wind got knocked out of your lungs with sharp exhales, but you kept yourself angled for the merciless rutting, unable to look away from the fiery obsession growing inside him, showing on his face.
Neither of you said a thing, just kept looking at each other, unable to speak, or to look away. The feeling was exquisite, invading every inch of your body, tingling beneath your skin. Jeonghan’s eyes glazed over, his mouth parting slightly but he kept himself quiet, fucking you to get rid of the thing trying to rip his heart out.
And when you reached your orgasm, it was the best feeling you had ever experienced in your life. It had you finally moaning out his name, clenching around him as he too spilled himself inside you with hard thrusts.
That was the night that kickstarted the deep craving and obsession you had for each other, the push and pull that Jeonghan could not make sense of until the night you told him of the bond. That was the night that Jeonghan regretted for a long time until he lost you.
“Hey, are you there?”
Jeonghan lifted his head, snapping back to reality. He had been contemplating for hours, sitting in the kitchen with a mug of cold tea in his hands. His fingers had grown cold again. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Mingyu opened the fridge for the fifth time that day, just to close it again. “Wonwoo and I are going to a Halloween parade downtown, see if we catch something fun. Wanna come with us?”
Jeonghan did not know for how long he had been sitting there reminiscing about you. In his mind, Jeonghan could still feel your touch on his skin, so it was difficult for him to assimilate what he had just heard, so he nodded again, accepting the invitation. “Sure,” he croaked.
“‘Kay,” Mingyu smiled giddily with the triumph of getting Jeonghan out of the house. “See you in the garage in five minutes.”
The streets were full of nocturnal life. People came out with costumes of all kinds, some of them were recognizable to Jeonghan, and some were not. It was a small city where the headquarters were located, but Jeonghan was not surprised to see a lot of people gathering there for the Halloween parade.
Demons ran amok in places like this, they practically crawled into these types of events, and humans were easier prey in crowded places. It was also easier for demons to mask themselves.
“We should go, Mingyu,” Jeonghan said, moving through the crowd and using Mingyu as a shield.
“Maybe we could move to the sidelines,” Wonwoo suggested, walking behind Jeonghan. “It would be easier to stay alert like that, we don’t have to be in the thick of the crowd.”
“Have a little fun, you two,” Mingyu said. He was a person that could find the good side to nearly everything, even this damned job, Jeonghan thought.
“I’m going to take a breather,” Jeonghan said, trying to cut through the crowd.
“Gods, you are one ray of sunshine,” Mingyu tutted. “Come on, this way,” he motioned to one side of the multitude of people, where they could cross more efficiently.
Jeonghan followed, walking away from the sea of people, and starting to thread through it to get to the other side of the street when he felt it. It was a rush, tingling down from the back of his head to the rest of his spine. It left him speechless, breathless.
“Wait,” Jeonghan blurted, placing a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder.
“What is it?” he frowned, sending his gaze through the sea of faces. The muscles of his jaw twitched, and as he drew in a breath, he exhaled: “Demon.”
Jeonghan stood frozen, eyes fixated on the pavement. “No,” he uttered dejectedly, straightening up to catch his breath. Not just any demon. He searched through the mass of unknown eyes, the masks, the makeup, growing more and more desperate as the feeling returned caressing his back, making him shudder.
“Jeonghan, what is it?” Mingyu muttered beside him, squaring up his shoulders after noticing the shocked expression on his face.
Yoon Jeonghan would know your face anywhere. Not just that, but the way the very air seemed to change whenever you were near.
“Mingyu, stop,” he whispered, digging his fingers on the muscle to bring him to a halt.
Mingyu dropped his jaw slightly, ignoring Jeonghan’s direct order and made a motion to step into the crowd again, a hand reaching for the knife on his back.
“I said stop,” Jeonghan ordered at once, his tone firm and snappy.
You moved through the sea of people, your eyes swimming all over the place in true amazement, your mouth parting as you looked at the costumes that the people around you wore.
Jeonghan shuddered, unable to blink in fear you were an illusion. But Mingyu saw you too, he saw your wings in full display, brushing against the humans around you, and he saw your black horns curving back from the crown of your head.
You laughed when a man dressed in a killer clown costume jumped on you, trying to get a scare out of you but failing miserably. The sound of your laughter made Jeonghan weak, it made him want to dissolve into the pavement below his feet.
“What the fuck?” Mingyu whispered, looking at you and then back at Jeonghan. “She’s a demon, what are we waiting for?”
“She’s mine,” Jeonghan snapped but did not look away from you. He simply removed his hand from Mingyu’s shoulder and started to walk slowly towards you as you moved through the myriads of costumes, wide-eyed in amazement.
As he came closer, reality seemed more and more like a joke to him. He tried to convince himself that perhaps he was dreaming again. But there was no denying the bond pulsating stronger as he approached you.
“Nice wings,” a guy said in passing, catching your attention but only for a fleeting moment.
You made no reply, only continued looking at your surroundings, the lights mirroring your dark eyes, full of hunger, full of life. Dark eyes that glided all over Jeonghan’s frame as he stood in front of you, perplexed to the point he forgot speech, he forgot how to use his mouth.
“What are you supposed to be?” you asked, tilting your head to one side.
Jeonghan did not know what to reply, as he was unsure that you even knew that you spent the last three months three feet below ground. You looked as alive as the day he told you he loved you.
You died, I buried you. Jeonghan’s mind reeled over and over. Your heart stopped beating, I buried you.
“I’m… I…” Jeonghan whispered, not by choice, but by the inability to raise his voice higher.
Your eyes went over the features of his face, and he expected eagerly to see a glint of recognition in them, but you beat him to it. “Do I know you?” you asked, your voice soft and gentle with him, but you did not know that your question might have been like a dagger to his heart.
His heart caved in, and he took the pain as he had been taking it for the last three months that you were gone. “I don’t think so, no,” he finally said, his pulse quickening upon realizing that the sound of his voice made your pupils dilate.
His voice. A very distant memory, like trying to recall a lost dream upon waking up from a long nap. You studied him with your gaze one more time, trying to figure out why his face meant something to you.
Jeonghan saw his two companions through the corner of his eye, but he ignored them, knowing the reason why you also looked so wide-eyed. “Are you hungry?” he asked, and seeing your brow furrowing, he quickly added with a thumb pointing back. “There’s a diner down the street, far away from all this noise.”
And far away from any potential casualties.
“I suppose I don’t get a name,” you quipped, and shivers ran down his spine.
So he tried to figure out if that brought back any memories when he said: “Only if I get yours first.”
Your gaze went soft, your breathing quickening slightly but only for him to notice it. You did not know your name, and the realization shook you so hard that it made you dizzy. “Yeah, I think I’ll go with you. If you’re buying.”
At that, Jeonghan mustered up a light smile, seeing that although your memories were gone, you were still you. “Yeah, I’m buying.”
He cast a look back only to make sure that Mingyu had understood why Jeonghan had ordered him to stop. And there was a knowing look mirroring back in Mingyu’s eyes, as he needed no explanation. Jeonghan nodded to him and then motioned you to follow down the street where the diner was located.
As you walked in front of him, he got a view of your entire frame. The t-shirt you had worn the day that you died was torn on the back midway through, for when those hunters tried to cut your wings. The rest of your clothes were dirty too, black with traces of blood and dirt, adding to the illusion of a Halloween costume.
“This place is good. I’ve been here many times before,” Jeonghan lied, keeping an eye on you to see if you were keen on catching his lies. “The pancakes and syrup are delicious.”
“Pancakes and syrup?” your eyes flitted to his face and back to the diner as Jeonghan pushed the door open, holding it for you.
Jeonghan nodded in short motions, his heart deflating a little when he saw no evidence that you had caught his lie. “You’ll love it.”
“Mmn,” you hummed confusedly, following him like a puppy that has just found a knowing elder. “I believe you.”
Jeonghan motioned to a seat of one of the booths and you slid obediently, crossing your arms on the table. He flagged down one of the servers and ordered for you only, glancing your way back and forth, tearing his gaze away only when you noticed his eyes on you.
“Eh,” you began, scratching an invisible itch on the back of your hand when the server kept looking at you weirdly until she walked away.
“It’s your wings,” Jeonghan pointed at your large, membranous black wings with the tip of his nose. “They look too real for a Halloween costume.”
You pouted, giving one of your wings a look. “They are real,” you muttered, seemingly offended.
Jeonghan sighed, unable to tear his eyes away from you. I’m glad they are, I’m glad you are real, he wanted to say but the words never came. “Yeah, I know.”
“These are too,” you pointed to the black horns curving back from the crown of your head.
“I know,” Jeonghan muttered, leaning over with a curiosity that he could no longer try to shake off. “Can you try to hide them?” he asked.
Your eyes were windows to your mind because they widened in shock for an instant. “Is that possible?”
Jeonghan realized that he never asked you how you did it, so he nodded and thought of a reply quickly. “Imagine them gone.”
Instinctively, your eyes swam upwards, focusing for half a thought and then your horns dissipated from his vision. “Oh,” you muttered, smiling in small triumph. “Did I do it?”
He smiled with you, unbeknownst that he had not done that in months. “You did it,” he said, his chest finally feeling whole and warm. “Can you try with your wings now?”
“Mmmn,” you frowned, breathing in and then they were gone too. “Oh, that feels weird,” you muttered with a small giggle that sent chills down his spine.
“Two coffees and pancakes with syrup for the young lady,” the server chirped, aloof that you had gotten rid of your horns and wings completely, serving the order and then walking away.
“Thanks,” he muttered, expecting for your first bite.
You were aloof to his scrutiny, sinking your fork into your food and taking one bite. You had the reaction that Jeonghan had secretly been waiting for, your eyes widened, glinting as you released a pleased moan. “Wow,” you muttered, wasting no time and taking another bite.
“Is it good?” Jeonghan whispered, keeping his eyes on you as you ate eagerly.
“So good,” you mumbled, your cheeks stuffed with your favorite dish. “I like this.”
“I’m glad,” Jeonghan replied meaningfully, trying for a second time to see if that brought any memories back. After seeing your reaction, he had no doubt in mind that somehow you were miraculously brought back to him instead, he was full of questions now, and he knew it would not be a straight answer to every single one of them.
“Penny for your thoughts?” you raised your eyebrows just as you were about to take another bite from your food. When he remained motionless, you added: “We’re strangers, I know, but I know that look.”
“Eh?” he frowned.
“You know, when someone wants to say something but doesn’t have the guts to,” you shrugged. “I don’t know much about things, but I can be a really good listener, and…” you sneaked a glance at his face and back to your plate. “You seem familiar.”
Jeonghan saw some glimpse of hope, but he remained careful. Nothing could be this good in his life and you coming back to it had to be another joke somehow. “Where do you come from?” he asked.
You pursed your lips, dubious of how to reply but you just went with what you could make out from experience. “I actually don’t know,” you said with an awkward air. “I dug myself out of a hole in the ground.”
Jeonghan showed you a sad smile. “That seems like a weird experience,” he commented just to keep you talking.
And it worked. “Yeah, I guess nobody thought of double-checking to see if I was really dead,” you smiled lightly but sent a quick glance to verify if Jeonghan would understand your dry humour.
“Or maybe you’re just a very deep sleeper.”
That made you laugh, the sound bubbly and airy. It surprised you for a second, but Jeonghan caught that look on your face despite him being overridden with a deep sense of joy when he heard the sound coming out of your mouth.
Jeonghan tried to keep his facial expressions in check, but he was so mesmerized that it showed in his glinting eyes.
“What about you, stranger?” you asked, pushing the empty plate aside and propped one elbow on the table, resting your chin on your hand.
“What about me?” he asked uncomfortably, coughing to shake off the deep wonder he felt.
“Where do you come from?” you asked innocently, shifting slightly on your seat to mask that you were also uncomfortable by the sense of familiarity his face gave you.
“I come from a town very, very far away from here,” he responded.
“Are you not hungry? You didn’t eat,” you said, taking the cup of coffee to your lips to drink one large gulp, you recoiled immediately, putting the cup down and using that hand to cover your mouth.
“What?” Jeonghan asked, frowning upon knowing that reaction. It was a natural instinct to recoil from things that could burn, humans did it. But not demons. Demons could not get burned from a hot coffee, much less feel like recoiling instinctively.
“It’s hot,” you said, lifting your eyes to him in shame as your eyes watered slightly from the stinging pain.
“Did you get burned?” Jeonghan pressed in utter bewilderment.
“Well, yeah, that’s what happens when something is really, really hot!” your eyes widened.
Then you did something that only sent him further down his intrigue, reaching out to grab the sugar to add two spoons to your coffee. You did this naturally and without much thinking. It was as though your memories were lost, but things out of habit remained with you. He wondered then if that was how you had instinctively found him. He wondered how strongly you felt the bond.
“Well?” you asked, stirring your coffee with the spoon with gentleness. When he just raised his eyebrows, you added: “Aren’t you hungry?”
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “No, I’m not,” he replied, clasping his hands beneath his chin and propping his elbows on the table. “You?”
You nodded. “I’m full,” you replied contently.
Confusion gripped him again, making him furrow his brow. “You’re not hungry anymore?” he asked, knowing that you could take one full meal, and still be hungry for more. Because no meal could satiate your need to feed on souls.
But you nodded cutely. “Yep, full.”
Another glimpse of hope. Something Jeonghan desperately wanted to cling to. If you could burn yourself, and feel full after one meal… not only that, but you miraculously and quite literally crawled out of your grave.
“Do you remember what it felt like?” Jeonghan whispered, so quiet that for a second he feared you would not be capable of hearing him.
But you raised your eyes. “What?”
“When you woke up in that hole, do you remember what happened before that?”
You shook your head slowly. “Nope,” you pouted once more. “How do you know I don’t remember?” you inquired, tilting your head to one side.
“I uh,” Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, flagging the server to ask for the bill. “I guess you’re familiar too,” he said, showing you a tight smile.
“Mmph,” you looked at him for a long moment, thinking that his eyes, the glint in them made you think of a spark before a fire.
Jeonghan on the other side of the table, was beginning to mortify with the idea that your temporary death might have inched you closer to becoming human. The time you tried to become human was through soul starvation, something that was slowly killing you too. And he thought that maybe you were only able to come back because you remained part-demon. A half-mortal.
Jeonghan also suspected that it was him uttering your name in the middle of the night the detonator for your resurrection if he could even call it that. Summoning a demon was a whole ritual, but you were bound to him and him to you, so everything that he thought he knew about it was uncertain too.
“I guess I should thank you for the food,” you toyed with the edges of the table without looking at him. “But I also don’t know why you’re doing this for me.”
“You have nothing to thank me for,” he said, realizing that his throat had gone dry with his thinking, he felt breathless, and it was not only because it was hard for him to sit with the fact that you were back, but also because he now had to make a choice.
If he was right and you were half-human now, you were also unaware of the bond. Jeonghan was face to face with the opportunity to finally let you go, and set you free from this vicious cycle. You would not be subjected to a lifetime of misery with him, being chased for being who you are and being with a demon hunter like him.
But there was another problem: he made a promise to you.
“Are you okay?” you whispered.
“Yeah, yes I am,” he cleared his throat once again, he pulled out his wallet and left a bill on the table. “Listen, I’ll show you a place where you can stay for now, alright?”
Before you could answer, he stood up from the table and walked towards the door of the diner, making you follow him outside.
“Where are we going?” you asked, trying to keep up with his large steps.
“A place where you could be taken in, a shelter,” he eyed you as you walked beside him.
“Will I see you again?” you looked panicked for a second, fear creeping inside you at the thought of him disappearing.
“No,” he replied shortly, lowering his gaze to the ground as he led you through an alleyway, knowing that the shelter would be just across from it.
Jeonghan could honor his promise to you. He would not walk away from you, he would not let you go. That would make the bond grow peaceful and content, and that would make his suffering end at once.
One undeniable truth was that if he could walk away from you, there would be no danger around you. Sure, you were still half-demon, so that would eventually put a target on your back. But he could keep an eye on you from afar, make sure you’re making the right choices for yourself, as you always have.
That way, maybe you could continue to have the life you always wanted. Maybe, in time, you would find someone who would give you what he never could, maybe that someone would be able to love you the way you deserve.
“Right,” Jeonghan breathed, trying to ease the pain in his chest. “I’ll be going now,” he muttered, slowly turning around and walking down the empty alleyway, every step becoming more and more torturous to him.
You watched him walk, the movement of his body growing weaker as the distance grew. “Hey,” you called, but he did not stop. “Stranger!” you began approaching him, but his steps took him farther from you. “Stop!”
Jeonghan did, breathing raggedly. Breaking a promise was hard, and the pain was nearly lethal. He vaguely remembered you saying something about breaking promises made to demons, but the pain numbed him to his last nerve ending.
You quickly made your way over to him, noticing that his body was shaking uncontrollably. “Hey,” you sighed, gathering yourself.
“What?” Jeonghan forced out, his voice quivering as he tried to stop the tremors. He was growing feverish, but as you closed the distance, he could regain some of his composure.
“I can’t let you go,” you frowned, unable to comprehend why you were so intrigued by him.
Jeonghan laughed dazedly, it was a mad laugh but not at you, but directed towards life and its crazy way to mock him. “You must,” he replied, the feeling coiling in his throat nearly strangled him. “Go to the shelter. They’ll take you in. You could start a life far away from this fucking mess.”
“Start a life?” you parroted again. “I don’t know my name, or who I am. Don’t go. Please?”
Jeonghan searched your eyes one more time. If he could not keep his promise, then at least he would give you back your name before walking away from you once and for all. “Your name…” he choked out your name, falling on his knees from the numbing pain he felt.
“That’s my name?” you whispered, trying to keep him on his feet, but he was growing heavy in your arms. “What’s yours?”
Jeonghan shook his head slowly, his eyes glazing over as he started to lose consciousness. “No,” whispered. “Go, forget me. Forget all this.”
“Please,” you insisted. Grabbing his face as he knelt in front of you, seeing his dark eyes, his soft lips. “I know you. I know I do,” you muttered, kneeling down so you could see him face to face.
He sighed, grabbing one of your hands and pressing it gently against his cheek, closing his eyes briefly. “My name is Yoon Jeonghan,” he muttered, bracing himself for the merciless thrill of the bond snapping in place one more time.
You sucked in a breath, your body tensing as the familiar feeling returned to your bones, coursing through your veins. “Jeonghan,” you breathed.
Jeonghan kept his eyes closed but shuddered as you uttered his name, choking back a sob. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, afraid of opening his eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t walk away from you,” he slurred the words, feeling lightheaded as his forehead fell forward, bumping with yours. “I’m sorry…”
“Jeonghan,” you whispered, your hands cradling his face shifted slightly in their place, feeling his skin.
He held his breath out of fear that you might reject the bond as he did to you many months ago. He wished to keep you there for a second longer, your forehead pressed to his, even if his lucidity waned, verging closer to passing out.
But then, you ran the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip softly, making him pull back slightly, opening his eyes to see your face. Something had changed. In your eyes he found the familiarity in them, you knew him.
He whispered your name carefully, fearful. “Baby?” he breathed, right before his head lolled to one side, his body following it to the ground, where he lost consciousness.
Jeonghan woke up abruptly, disorientated. The ceiling was one he had never seen before and that induced him into a panic that pushed him to sit on the bed where he lay. Lightheaded, he understood after some seconds that he was in a motel room. And that he was completely alone.
Had he been dreaming all this time? He rose from the bed going around it to look for traces of you. But he found nothing. Breathing fitfully, he took his hands to his head, forcing himself to focus.
The door clicked softly and was pushed open cautiously. As you entered the room, you sneaked a look directly at the bed, expecting to find Jeonghan still in his sleep, your gaze swam across the room, falling upon Jeonghan, who stood frozen directly parallel to you.
“Ah, you’re awake,” you chirped, entering the room and closing the door behind you. You had half expected to find the room empty if Jeonghan had woken up alone while you went to grab something to eat.
Jeonghan remained rigid, looking at you as though afraid he might wake up from a dream again. His breathing was ragged, and his vision began to blur.
“I hope you don’t mind I took your wallet,” you said, leaving a paper bag on the chair as you removed the zipper hoodie from your shoulders. “And your hoodie.”
“Wh-what—how…” Jeonghan breathed, shaking with so many emotions at the same time it was hard to focus, it was hard for him to command the muscles of his mouth to demand the answers he needed to know.
You approached him carefully, rubbing your hands together as though anxious. “You passed out last night,” you explained, though that was obvious to him, he did not need you to say that. “And I took you here because I don’t know where you live. And I don’t have a home.”
Jeonghan took in a breath sharply, tears spilling from his eyes as he listened to your voice. He raised one hand slowly, carefully meeting your cheek to make sure you were not an illusion.
You began to worry, your eyebrows pinching together. “Was I gone too long?” you asked meaningfully, understanding that he was in shock.
Jeonghan nodded slowly, the pain in his heart pulsating when you grabbed his hand on your cheek, pressing it against your skin before you wrapped an arm around his torso, so he did the same, hugging you tightly to his body.
“I’m sorry,” you cooed softly, trying to swallow your tears as he sobbed in your arms.
“I missed you,” he muttered, his body wrapping you completely, his face hiding on the curve of your neck, his arms grabbing you tightly to the point the air started to leave your lungs.
Your heart deflated upon hearing the raw sadness in his voice. “I know,” you whispered, feeling the bond deep inside you pulsating, feeling everything he felt during these months of your absence.
“I buried you,” he whispered, shaking uncontrollably, his fingers curled around your clothes, trying to hold onto you to never let you go again.
You caressed his back gently as he shook with sobs. “I’m sorry,” you said, feeling guilty for the pain he endured while you were gone.
Jeonghan grabbed your face, still finding it hard to believe that you were there, and you were fine. “How?” he asked, his voice waning over the emotions coiling in his throat.
“I don’t know,” you whispered, circling his neck with your hands as he moved to press a long kiss on your forehead.
It did not matter, all the explanations in the world would fall short of explaining the relief Jeonghan felt.
“I’m sorry you had to go through this,” you said, knowing that there would be no resolution to this.
“It’s okay now,” he replied, pressing his forehead on yours.
“Jeonghan,” you muttered, pulling back to see his face before asking: “Tell me what happened, please.”
He went rigid with pain in an instant, but he nodded slowly, moving to sit down on the foot of the bed to avoid growing weak in his stance. You sat beside him, reaching for his hand as though you could not keep your hands to yourself.
“Do you remember the hunters?” he asked, waiting for your confirmation and he proceeded when you nodded silently. “And do you… remember what they did to you?”
Your gaze fell out of focus as you tried to conjure the memory of the moment before your death. The memories were fragments of pain and worry; you remembered some things, and those were enough. “Yes,” you said.
Jeonghan bristled in pain slightly, but continued despite it. “You were gone for three months,” he explained, the pain from your absence still felt recent, the wound still fresh. It was baffling to him that you were now here, as though nothing had happened.
“How am I back?” you asked slowly, furrowing your brow slightly. “What did you do, Jeonghan?”
He understood at once that you were worried about what he could have done for you to return scatheless, or so you thought.
“I…” he lowered his gaze, growing ashamed of himself. “I think I summoned you in my sleep.”
“Is that possible?” you asked. “I thought you needed to do a ritual to summon me.”
“That’s the thing,” he raised his gaze again, shifting on the bed so he could face you better. “I don’t think that applies to people like us. I didn’t need to do a ritual, I just needed to call for you.”
“So you’re telling me that you did not say my name once for three months?”
Shame returned to his face, nodding silently without looking at your eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, his bottom lip trembling slightly. “I just couldn’t—it hurt so much,” he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Hey,” you whispered, bringing a hand to cup his cheek, forcing his brown eyes to meet yours. “It’s okay,” you showed him a light smile. “You did what you had to do.”
His eyebrows pinched softly. “Can you forgive me?” he whispered.
You sat on your knees beside him, grabbing his face fully with your hands. “There is nothing to forgive, Jeonghan,” you said warmly, pushing his long bangs away from his face. “I’m fine, and I’m here thanks to you.”
He wrapped his arms around your waist to bring you down with him to the bed. “I can’t believe that you’re back,” he said with a tiny tone. “I thought I would never see you again.”
Meanwhile, you were still trying to digest the fact that he lived through three months of mourning and guilt, while you just closed your eyes and woke up in a clearing with flowers around you. Confused, but with one thought in mind: follow the thing that pulled you to him.
Jeonghan caressed the side of your face with the back of his fingers, looking at you longingly as the pain inside him deflated slowly. “You’re half human now,” he told you, remembering the look on your face the night before.
You nodded, enjoying the gentle shivers that his touch gave you. “It feels funny,” you giggled slightly. “I’m weaker now.”
Jeonghan mirrored your smile, his fingers trailing down to grab your chin. “I guess I should be careful with you now,” he whispered, meeting your lips with his own.
The kiss ignited every single inch of your skin, drawing out a small moan from you. And for Jeonghan, it felt like he was coming back to life too, his lips searching for yours hungrily, emitting a small grunt into your mouth that only made you want more.
“Jeonghan,” you breathed when he stopped kissing you, but his lips lingered on yours.
“I missed you,” he replied in kind, his lips brushing against yours softly.
You moved your hand to caress his chest over the black t-shirt he wore. “Do you want to show me?” you mumbled, pressing a tender kiss on his lips.
He moved his hand from your chin to cradle your cheek, looking into your eyes. Jeonghan lost count of the times he wished to be this close to you again, to feel the warmth of your skin, to breathe in your scent. Unable to break away from you, he pressed your body to the mattress, climbing on top of you while kissing your lips hungrily.
You made a muffled sound on his lips, grabbing his face to pull him as close as possible to you. Kissing Jeonghan still felt electrifying, now that you were part-human. You were still able to sense him through the bond. Everything was the same except that your senses were slightly dimmed.
“What’s that?” Jeonghan mumbled between kisses.
“It feels different,” you breathed, grabbing his shoulders, feeling the edge of his collarbone with the pads of your thumbs.
“Different, how?” he asked, his gaze coasting over the features of your pretty face.
“Like the stronger part of me is numb,” you said, showing him a meek smile when the explanation felt ridiculous to you. But your smile faded, the glint in your eyes dimming a little. “I can’t see your soul anymore.”
Jeonghan tensed slightly on top of you. “You could see my soul?”
You nodded slowly, ashamed that you never told him while you were able to see that fiery flame dancing inside him. “Sorry,” you whispered.
“It’s okay,” he replied in kind, realizing the reason behind the weird looks you would give him, you could see through him quite literally. “I wonder how many other things will be different now,” he said.
You would probably age closer to a normal rate now. You were part-human, you could fill your tummy with human food, and you were at risk of falling sick like humans but the probability of that could be minimal.
“You still like me, right?” you asked with a playful giggle.
Jeonghan rolled his eyes, smiling with you. “Unfortunately, yes. I do,” he mumbled, lacing his words with sarcasm.
“How much?” you teased, enjoying that despite you were no longer able to see his soul, he was still an open book to you.
“Shut up,” he said, leaning over to press a tender kiss on your lips, muffling the sound of your giggle. “I love you,” he mumbled.
You closed your eyes, shuddering at the sound of his voice, the bond responding to it like a bolt of lightning shooting through you. “I love you more,” you replied sweetly, still grabbing his face with your hands.
At that, Jeonghan could have sworn that the pain he endured without you was cured. He released a groan into the kiss, his lips diving deeper into yours, only breaking away when your hands slipped beneath his t-shirt, and he helped you take it off.
He followed your body when you sat up on the bed to take your t-shirt off, and he quickly moved to take your jeans and panties just so he could have you wholly naked before him. There was no rush to relieve the pressure growing inside him, he just wanted to appreciate every curve of your body, to leave kisses on every inch of your warm skin.
And you could see that need in his eyes, it was visible how much he missed you. He stood on his knees before you, looking at you for one long moment. Your heart squeezed for him when you realized that, while you were delighted to explore the changes in your now partially human form, he was healing from the grief he felt when you were gone.
“Jeonghan,” you called, snapping him from the train of thoughts reeling in his mind. His eyes met yours. “Come here,” you said, raising your arms to wrap him in them when he pressed his bare chest against yours.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s okay,” you replied, parting your legs so he could slot his hips between them. You grabbed his cheek as he left one kiss on yours. “I love you.”
“I love you,” he gasped, moving his lips to leave a trail of kisses on your jawline, and your throat, humming when he realized that the scent of your skin remained the same. He delighted in the taste of your skin when he ran his tongue on one of your breasts, wrapping his lips around your pebbled nipple to tease it a little, just to hear the sweet sound of your moans.
“Jeonghan,” you sighed, bringing a hand to grab a fistful of his dark hair.
He hummed softly, his breath fanning on your bumpy skin as he moved to lick your other nipple, kissing it and grazing it lightly with his teeth. He pressed his lips on your sternum, resuming his trail of kisses down until he sank between your legs.
“Fuck,” you breathed, finding out that despite you were not at full power as you were, you were still very much sensitive. Your skin prickled when his hands slipped beneath your thighs, holding you as he placed the first kiss of many on your inner thigh.
Propping yourself on your elbows to look at him, he raised his eyes too, meeting yours right before licking a generous stripe on your folds. A shudder invaded you, reaching every nerve ending in your body, tearing apart your self-control. Your head lolled back, a pleased sigh escaping your lips as he worked his mouth on your pussy, practically making out with it.
The sensation was near-euphoric. It made your mind go blank. It left you breathless in an instant. You suddenly felt the weight of your absence, as if your body was gently reminding you that you had gone without his touch, even if you had not been aware of it. But a part of you was sure that you never wanted to go another day without his caress.
“Jeonghan,” you called breathily, running your fingers through his long hair, letting his tongue lap between your folds, drinking you in with raw moans.
Your orgasm came fast, faster than you wanted. Your jaw went slack with a loud moan, shuddering hard as he continued eating your pussy out, watching you come undone with lewd gasps until you let your body fall back on the mattress to enjoy the short aftershocks of your climax.
When he climbed back on top of you to kiss your mouth, you moaned when you tased yourself on his lips. Reaching for the belt of his jeans, you swiftly finished undressing him, not hiding how badly you needed him.
“Hey,” he breathed, touching the tip of your nose with his own. Your eyes met his as he lowered his bare body on yours, pressing his chest against yours.
You sighed, skin prickling when you felt his hard dick on your lower tummy as he kissed you again. “Jeonghan,” you moaned into the kiss. “Hurry.”
He obliged, smiling lightly at you before sneaking his hand between your pressed bodies, grabbing his fully hard cock to guide it to your pussy. His eyes swam all over the features of your face, nudging the bulbous head of his cock in your pooling entrance.
Your mouth parted, eyes widening in anticipation when you felt him. “Please,” you mouthed, bracing yourself for the electrifying feeling.
He swallowed hard, starting to sink inside you tortuously slow, delighting himself with the look on your face, the way a gasp left your mouth. You instinctively parted your legs for him, lifting your knees to your chest for him to push inside you to the hilt, and when he did, he released a raw moan.
Jeonghan pulled his hips back, to then push his cock in your walls slowly, as if testing you. He looked at you as he sheathed his cock inside you making you feel every raw inch, the vein in the underside of his shaft, the bulbous cockhead. He breathed out a broken moan, his face contorting in pleasure.
Jeonghan moved his hips, setting a faster pace on top of you when he made sure you had adjusted to the stretch of his cock. The smacking sounds of skin against skin became louder as he quite literally pounded on you, knocking the air out of your lungs with short gasps.
“Jeonghan,” you breathed, squeezing your eyes shut as you swore that you would burst from the pleasure building inside you.
As though on command, he slowed down the rutting of his hips. He breathed fitfully against your lips, leaning his forehead on yours as he kept his thrusts gentle on you, massaging your walls slowly with his cock. “You feel so good,” he whispered, swallowing hard.
“You too,” you sighed, feeling his scarred chest with your palms, keeping your knees up for him to sink his cock deeper inside you. “So good.”
Jeonghan shook slightly, lifting his hips so his cock slipped out of you, paused, and then sheathed himself back inside you, making you feel the length of his cock, every ridge beneath his bulbous cockhead, the warmth of the base of his cock. He smiled when you moaned, gritting your teeth to hold out for him, but pleasure consumed you quickly.
“Baby,” he whispered, framing your head with his arms before leaning to kiss you. “I love you.”
It felt like his dreams came alive to haunt him in real life because for a split second, he was fearful again that this might not be real. But you moaned into the kiss, holding his shoulders with your hands to keep yourself in control. “I love you,” you breathed.
He locked his lips with yours, moaning into the kiss, keeping his thrusts at the same pace that was pushing you to the edge.
“I’m close,” you gasped, pinching your eyebrows almost involuntarily.
Jeonghan planted a loving kiss on your cheek. “Let go, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll come after you.”
“Come with me?” you mumbled.
He smiled at you. “We need to be careful now,” he whispered, pushing his lips against yours tenderly.
“I don’t want to,” you said in defiance, caressing the line of his back until your hands reached his ass, palming him as he pushed his cock inside you.
He laughed lightly, ignoring your feeble attempt at trapping him with your hands. “Do you want me to come inside you?”
You nodded eagerly, unable to speak up, keeping yourself angled for his cock massaging your walls.
Jeonghan knew he had struck a weak point for you. He kissed you again, this time swiftly and chastely. “You wicked thing,” he breathed, pressing another kiss. “Want me to stuff you full of my cum?”
“Fuck, yes, yes, please,” you closed your eyes, inching closer to your orgasm.
He gave you an airy laugh, and you would have paid attention to it if it were not for the merciless shudder consuming you wholly. You cried out loudly as waves of pleasure washed over you, the pleasure so intense that your eyes brimmed with tears. “Jeonghan…”
Jeonghan reached to grab your hands, lacing your fingers with his, and putting them above your head as the pace of his thrusts became faster, harder. He moaned your name, making you think that he was coming with you, stuffing you full of his cum.
But then he pulled out with a raw groan, pushing his forehead against yours as he came on your tummy, ropes of warm cum spilling on your skin, dripping on your sides, trickling down your skin.
Not giving you the opportunity to protest, he kissed you. But you whined impishly in his mouth, making him laugh and press your hands on the pillows with more strength, easily overpowering you.
He stopped kissing you, pausing to look at your face. Once he saw you pouting, he started to laugh, his chest shaking against yours.
You tried to ignore what the sound of his laughter did to you. “You pulled out!” you whined, trying to free your hands from his grasp.
“We don’t know what could happen now that you’re human,” he replied with a dazzling smile.
Maybe he was right, but you just wanted to see that smile, to hear that laugh again so you continued with your childish act. “So what?”
He gave you an airy chuckle. “So what if I get you pregnant? Is that what you want?” he asked, but then something inside him shifted with the realization that it might be something you wanted.
“Maybe,” you replied, your gaze dimming but then you shook your head. “One day. Perhaps. I don’t know.”
He thought of coming up with a quippy response, but the feeling in his chest would not allow him. “Let’s get cleaned up,” he muttered.
After showering, Jeonghan sat at the foot of the bed, half-dressed and drying his long hair with a towel. He raised his eyes as you exited the tiny bathroom of the motel room, approaching him to stand between his parted knees.
“I bought us breakfast. With your money,” you smirked, putting your hands on his shoulders.
Jeonghan’s features broke into a smile. “That sounds great,” he replied, leaving aside the towel and grabbing one of your hands to press a kiss on your knuckles.
Then he gave you a look. One that spoke of months of thinking about you every day, of thinking about what he could have done with you. Life seemed so fragile to him, so fleeting after he lost you, that he kept thinking of the things he would have done differently. And now, you stood before him, a dream come true, the one wish he asked life to grant him.
“What?” you mumbled.
Jeonghan blinked repeatedly when you brought your hand to his forehead, pushing his bangs away. He smiled. “Do you like flowers?”
› author's note: so this kind of just happened. i am obsessed with these two 😭 and can you guys believe that i wrote my first major character death scene ever because of this series? insane
toodles
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© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.
#jeonghan smut#yoon jeonghan smut#yoon jeonghan x reader#svthub#thediamondlifenetwork#kvanity#ksmutsociety#jeonghan x reader#svt smut#hannieween's kinktober#yoon jeonghan fanfic#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#svt imagines#yoon jeonghan x you#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan fic#hannieween#hannieweenfest
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earth 42 miles showing up to his gf’s place unannounced and she starts freaking out and hiding her face bc he hasn’t seen her w/o makeup before
(I like this. Enjoy!)
No Makeup?
First of all, poor guy just wanted to see you
He knows you wear makeup and he's cool about it
He's never cared about no makeup or makeup
He thought you were pretty either way
He was just sorta confused whenever he came to the realization he had never seen you without make-up
He would ask you about it and if you put yourself down when you're not wearing makeup, like how you look without he gets offended for you
Even if he's never seen you without he's like a damn soldier
Literally arguing with you about how pretty you are without it even if he's never seen you without the makeup
But he's gotta admit you do some bomb ass makeup
He can't even draw that good on how you do makeup
Absolutely beautiful with and without he says though
So one time he was just tired as hell
He probably was coming back from a job and instead of going to his place, he went to yours
It was always a habit but this time he forgot to text you before he came over
He thought it was no big deal with sneaking in through the window
So that's exactly what he did
He just wanted to sleep in your bed man
But once he got there it took you a moment to realize that, oh shit, Miles was there
And your makeup was not
The second you start freaking out is the moment Miles ALSO starts freaking out
"What?! What?! Why the fuck are you screaming, ma?!"
You're trying to cover yourself and shit and he trying to calm you down
"It's just me! It's Miles!" Cause he thought you thought he was some intruder
Or that he walked in on you naked
In that case he's just standing there and watching because he's seen you before and wondering why you're still screaming
The thought of you hiding something or someone popped in his mind and he's so suspicious
He's walking to the bed and trying to pull the blanket off your head
"What's going on?" He's asking again and again like a kid when a parent is hiding something from them
"I'm not wearing makeup, Miles!"
Once you said that he couldn't help but freeze
He laughed
He couldn't help but laugh
It felt like something so silly
He actually felt a little bad that you wanted to hide yourself from him just because you weren't wearing makeup
He actually stole the whole blanket
You may have thought he would think you looked bad without the makeup
But honey no
He was actually staring but staring in awe
You look so pretty without it
It may be little imperfections you hate but he loves those imperfections
He is spending the whole time complimenting you and shit
Worhsiping tje ground you walk on because that's his fucking job
He just finds you so pretty without the makeup and with it
From now on he will watch you without the makeup and watch you just smiling a little while you put makeup on
Admiring with and without I say
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@mushystrawberries @sweetheartlizzie07 @itstooearly-its3am @Ihavetoexist @kaorussgf @samsketchezz @yas-v @lovelymiaablogss @sussybaka10 @shisuishoe @sairavity @moonlight-rosevine @spectr3inl0ve @najiiix @popeheywardssecretgf @edgyficuselastica @sylisan @onginlove
#earth 42 miles morales#miles morales x you#miles morales x y/n#miles morales#miles morales x reader#miles x reader#miles morales earth 42 x reader#earth 42 miles morales x reader#across the spider verse x reader#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#spiderverse x reader#into the spiderverse x reader
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oh my gosh! I am in love! pleaseee continue this
https://www.tumblr.com/saturnitystar/758532956071624704/chocolate-coated-hearts-rl?source=share
yesss i love barista!remus too much not to continue <3 !! i got so carried away and this was way longer than i expected it to be haha
chocolate-coated hearts | r.l. (part 2)
୨ৎ series masterlist
barista!remus x shy!reader
tw: fluff, use of y/n
The rain patters down mercilessly, the tip-tap sound from where it’s hitting your file awfully loud. You break into a slight jog, holding the black file above your head as if it would offer some sort of protection against the downpour.
You were on the way back from the university, and had conveniently ignored your roommate’s reminders to bring an umbrella earlier that morning, because oh, are you sure you checked the forecast for the right day? and it hasn’t rained in weeks – why the hell would it rain today? Unfortunately, it did rain today.
The dampness soaked through your shoes as you moved, splashing upwards to wet your pants. You let out an exasperated sigh and lift your head, eyes darting around to seek shelter until the rain subsided.
In your peripheral vision, you could see a library – but that was way too chilly, given the way you were trembling. There was a bar, but… that was where your weird neighbour, Carl, went every evening. And you were in absolutely no mood to entertain his rambling. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as you trot a little further in an attempt to find a decent place. Wetness was seeping into your clothes, igniting a chill throughout your entire body.
As the seconds ticked by, you felt the frustration building up. Everything was just going so wrong today. Your lecturer had returned your analysis of Pride and Prejudice, and you had done so badly that it had to be redone. Plus, you were supposed to go out with Madison for lunch, but she had fallen horribly sick. And now, the torrential rain seemed to be mocking you – adding insult to injury.
The warm orange lighting of a sign came into view, and you squint your eyes to make out the words. Rubbing water off your face, you realise that the sign said Beanie’s. Well, it was a cafe – that was good enough. As you veered off the pathway to the right, you could smell freshly-baked cookies and coffee from the place. It better be warm inside, you thought. One more screw-up, and you genuinely believed you would burst.
You come to a stop outside the cafe, taking laboured gasps of air to catch your breath. You shake the water off your file and push the door open, stepping inside.
Fortunately, it was warm inside – you could feel the hot air blowing onto your skin immediately, drying your clothes from inside out. But to your misfortune, the heat seemed to be spreading to your face as well when you caught sight of the person behind the counter.
It had completely slipped your mind. But now it was all coming back to you, staring at his chiselled arms as he placed a plate of bagels on a tray. Your incident a few weeks ago, when you’d embarrassingly frozen on the spot and let the hot barista pick your donuts for you.
That had weighed on your mind for days, the way you had humiliated yourself in front of possibly the most angelic person on earth, and how said angel had treated you as though you were some kind of delicate flower.
You glance back out at the rain, drawing your lip in between your teeth as you contemplated your options. Either you went back out there, or you moved forward and ordered from Mr. Super Hot Barista. And you were definitely not going back into the rain.
Sucking in a deep breath, you brushed your soaked hair out of your face and wiped your hands on your sweatshirt. You shake off as much water as possible before walking towards the counter, feeling shivers run down your spine – from the cold or from shyness, you weren’t sure.
“Hi.” It comes out unnecessarily loudly, and you cringe. You actively try not to ogle at him, and your eyes fall on the tag on his shirt. Remus, it said. For fuck’s sake, even his name was pretty.
Mr. Super Hot Barista – Remus – looked up from the cookies he was boxing, his hazel eyes meeting yours. You could have sworn something like recognition flashed in his gaze. “Hey,” he smiled easily.
It was happening again, and you hated it. You felt your throat start to go dry as you held his gaze, and his smile slowly widened. You swallowed nervously, the quick drip, drip of water from your hair mirroring how fast your heart was beating. He very well knew the effect he was having on you, and was taking full advantage of it.
“So,” Remus started, “What would you like to order, sweetness?”
You thought you were going to pass out from the sheer amount of endearment in the nickname, eyes widening and cheeks turning pink. But you were a strong, independent young woman. And you were not going to let some random barista knock you off your feet.
“One small cappuccino, please,” you squeak, horrified at how small your voice was.
“Right,” he ducked his head to key it into the register, and you resist the urge to reach out and brush your fingers through his gorgeous curls. “And would you like any chocolate donuts with that?”
You swore your stomach flipped upside down at the comment – he remembered your little situation. Your hands come up to cover your reddening cheeks as you involuntarily let out an embarrassed groan.
The sound of his soft chuckle only exacerbates the sensation of your heart bobbing up and down in your chest. “Sorry, sorry – just messing with you.”
You let out a strangled sort of noise, still unwilling to look up and let him see just how flushed you probably were. When you press your face further into your palms, his voice softens. “Hey, I’m not trying to put you on the spot, I swear. I’m sorry.”
The slight tinge of guilt in his voice makes you look up immediately as you drop your hands to your sides. You see him standing in front of the coffee machine, preparing your cappuccino. “No, no. You’re not putting me on the spot, I’m just –” you sputter out, letting out a nervous chortle.
“God, you’re really embarrassed, aren’t you?” he breathes out in quiet laughter. “Calm down, pretty girl. I promise I won’t bite.” That majorly sucks, you thought. You envisioned how his lips would look biting into a cream puff, cursing yourself for even thinking of it a moment later.
“Okay,” you mumble, flipping your slightly less damp hair over your shoulder. And the next thing you utter, you don’t even think about it before saying it. “Don’t call me pretty girl.”
You immediately slap a hand to your mouth, eyes widening in shock at your own tongue. Literature students, and the yappers they are, Madison had once complained. Now you knew just how right she was.
Remus let out an amused snort, his lips curving upwards in a grin. “Okay, sorry, sweetness.”
“Don’t call me that either.”
“Someone’s picky,” he muttered, the smile still on his face as he pressed a lid onto the cup of coffee before pushing it towards you. “What can I call you, then?”
“Y/n,” you mumble, praying that your delight at having been asked your name was not showing on your face.
“Y/n,” he lets it roll around on his tongue, a sweet smile playing on his lips. He scribbles something onto your cup. “That’s a nice name.”
“You too,” you say without thinking, glancing downwards to pull money out the pocket of your pants. You look up to find him eyeing you with his eyebrow arched. A giggle escapes you as you point at his nametag. “Remus, right?”
He looks down at his shirt and chuckles, realisation lighting up his face. “Yeah, my name’s Remus.”
Remus glances back up as you drop the money into his hand. And you’re very careful not to let your fingers brush against his palm this time.
His smile was soft and sunny, making it feel like it had never even rained in the first place. “Bye.”
“Bye,” you echo, your heart fluttering in your chest as you offer him a smile. You turn around to find a table, and just then realise that the cafe was as crowded as it was the last time you were here, if not more.
You purse your lips worriedly. It was still storming outside, and you really needed to get started on your failed analysis and your newly assigned one –
“Y/n!”
You swivel back around to find Remus grinning at you. “You can sit here,” he gestures at the bar stools in front of the platform, which were unoccupied. “I get lonely anyway. It’ll be nice to have some fun company.”
“Oh,” you murmur, an unignorable sense of relief settling over you. “Okay, thanks.” You make your way over, setting your coffee and tote bag down on the platform before hauling yourself up onto the stool.
As he picks up donuts and packs them into boxes, you pull out your book and a stack of foolscap. Remus glances up at the sound, his face immediately lighting up. “M.L. Rio?”
You nod. If We Were Villains was the next book you were assigned to work on.
“That was a good book,” he says casually as he begins to work again. “Why, are you annotating it or something?”
You try not to beam. He reads, your brain was screaming at you. He reads and he has excellent fucking taste. Could he possibly be more perfect?
“Not just annotating,” you reply, a pleased lilt to your voice. “Analysing, for a project. Oh – I forgot to mention, I’m majoring in literature.”
“Literature, huh?” he grins as he sets his tongs down, and he looks almost bemused. “Interesting.”
You pull out a pen and begin to write, the smile never fading from your face. He lets you work in silence, the only sound being the metallic clinking of tongs as he packs pastries into bags and boxes.
“Hot take,” he says suddenly, a couple minutes later. You look up, surprised. “I don’t believe James was some sort of tragic hero, as people make him out to be. I think he was the villain.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he snorts, and a laugh bubbles out of you. “That’s a ridiculous opinion.”
Remus rolls his eyes. “As a literature student, I think you need to be more open-minded.”
“The title is ‘If We Were Villains’, not ‘I Am The Villain’!” you retort indignantly, earning a loud bout of laughter from him. He shakes his head indulgently, continuing to stack boxes. “Great point.”
You can hear the deadpan in his voice, but decide to take it as a victory anyway. Grinning, you get back to your book as a comfortable silence settles over the both of you.
It was hard, but you were trying your hardest not to glance up at him every once in a while. The glowy orange light on the ceiling shone down on him, and you felt your curiosity growing towards the pale scars that decorated his face.
Whenever he caught you staring, you immediately evaded his gaze and took a sip of your coffee, or jotted something onto your paper. You thought you may have seen him trying not to smile a couple of times.
You blink as you glanced at your foolscap, which was full of random squiggly lines and words written in an attempt to make it seem like you were concentrating. But it was absolutely impossible to focus with Remus in front of you.
You furrow your eyebrows disappointedly. It really was important that you finished this up by tonight, and you were obviously not getting any work done here. One look outside told you that, unfortunately, the rain had stopped and the moon had come out.
Remus perked up when he heard the shuffling coming from you. He looked up to see you packing your things. “Leaving so soon?”
“Sorry,” you mutter as you pick up your cup of coffee, almost finished with it. “I’ve got more work to do at home.” The stool screeches as you stand up, slinging your tote bag over your shoulder. You rake your fingers through your hair – you had spent so long in the cafe, it was completely dry now.
He smiles, “Nah, you don’t need to apologise. It was fun talking to you.”
Your heart smiled at that. “Yeah, I had fun too.”
He stays silent for a moment, observing you. Your face starts to feel hot again. “Okay then, I’m gonna go.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” he calls out, causing you to turn back around.
You tilt your head questioningly. “There’s a poetry reading happening here, tomorrow, at 5pm. You like poetry?”
“Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, I like poetry.”
He nods, the hint of a smile on his lips. “Come round if you’re free. I think you’ll like it.”
It felt like fireworks had begun to explode everywhere within you, from your head to toes and even in those little spaces between your fingers. “Okay,” you murmur. Your heart was tingling with excitement. “I’ll try to make it.”
“Great,” he grins, chucking his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the platform behind him. “Cool, then. See you.”
“See you,” you smile dazedly, pivoting and walking towards the exit with your coffee in hand. Your beam widened as you walked out, strolling back home as you sipped your coffee.
Remus had invited you to a poetry reading. A poetry reading.
Your cheeks ached from how hard you were grinning. You drink the last bit of your cappuccino, going to throw it in a bin on the street. That’s when you caught sight of something scrawled in black ink on the side of the cup.
There was a heart next to your name, and a number below it. Call me, pretty girl, it said in brackets.
You skipped all the way home.
#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin fic#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin#remus lupin headcanon#barista!au#marauders#the marauders x reader#marauders era#marauders fanfiction#marauders drabble#marauders fic#the marauders fanfiction#the marauders#the marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders x you#marauders x reader#marauder fanfiction#the marauders fic#the marauders fandom#marauders fanfic
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can we have the first meet soulmate thing for sorcerer! reader please?? w gojo only
jjk hcs: satoru meeting sorcerer!soulmate!reader
characters: satoru gojo x reader, megumi (mentioned), yuji (mentioned), nobara (mentioned)
warnings: u kill a cursed spirit, possible injury but not rly, mature language (reader cusses gojo out lmfao), the kids & reader lowkey bullying gojo lol, gojo is kinda suggestive at the end
AN: soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed somewhere on your body!! read the non-sorcerer version HERE
SATORU GOJO
being called in as back up for a mission involving a 2nd grade cursed spirit was not on ur to-do list today
but guess where you are!!
an empty mall!!
an empty mall where you’re currently watching 3 teenagers run around like headless chickens
the curse is ugly… as most of them are but..
this one is NASTY looking
several different colored eyeballs sticking out of various places on its body
it’s oozing some sort of greenish brown liquid
and the smell
dear lord it’s bad
the poor pink haired kid is simultaneously holding his nose and trying to fight the curse with one hand
and it’s main attack seems to be the ability to spit that greenish brown liquid at whoever it’s attacking, rendering them immobile
almost like a glue trap for mice
the curse backs the three kids into a corner and prepares to spit that sticky liquid at them
and that’s when you decide to make your entrance
jumping from the second floor of the mall, in front of the kids, and drawing your weapon
you block the attack and jump towards the curse
severing it’s head and therefore exorcising it in one quick movement
you sheathe your weapon and turn to the kids, “why the hell are you three taking on a 2nd grade mission?”
the pink haired boy from earlier explains, “our sensei was supposed to be with us but when we split up he went to the food court… and uhhh… we haven’t seen him since.”
you give the kids a sour look, “your sensei must be a complete moron”
all at once the kids agree
“he is” -the girl with the hammer
“yeah, pretty much” -the boy with the black spikey hair
“i mean.. kinda, sometimes” -the pink haired boy
you sit the kids down on a bench so that you can check over them and access any possible wounds
mama bear mode activated.
you ask the boy, who you now know as megumi, to get in touch with his sensei
when his sensei answers the phone, megumi explains that the curse has been exorcised
but before he can explain about your presence, you snatch the phone from him and let out a string of expletives directed towards the man on the other end
“you must be a fucking idiot huh? your kids could’ve died taking on a 2nd grade alone and you’re off being an irresponsible jackass somewhere-“
before you can continue you hear the dial tone
he hung up on you
without even saying a word
nearly growling in anger you shove the phone back to megumi and move over to yuji
you take his hands in yours and begin to wrap his hands in bandages saying, “you know, if you keep punching through walls you’re going to end up really hurting your knuckles”
as you wrap his hands you’re not really paying attention to your surroundings, so the smug voice coming from behind spooks you a little…
“it’s good that a pretty little thing like you came to the rescue or else my kids could’ve died since i was off being an irresponsible jackass”
he’s throwing your own words back in your face
whipping your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash, you prepare to launch into another ass chewing
but your words get stuck in your throat when you’re met with a tall, blindfolded, white haired man
a man known to everyone in the jujutsu world
Satoru Gojo
in response to your stunned silence he lets out a chuckle, “what? cat got your tongue, pretty?”
his mocking snaps you back into reality as you fire back, “no, i’m just surprised on how someone like you can be such a complete and utter dumbass!”
“awww cmon is that the way you’re supposed to talk to your soulmate?” he smirks down at you
you give him a confused look before it hits you
his first words to you from earlier…
“it’s good that a pretty little thing like you came to the rescue or else my kids could’ve died since i was off being an irresponsible jackass”
those exact words are printed on your back underneath your shoulder blade in neat handwriting
looking up at him with wide eyes, you watch as he turns his back to you, pulling off his uniform jackets and lifting up his shirt
ignoring the faint gagging sounds from his students
and there it is, printed in the exact same spot as yours, in your handwriting
“you must be a fucking idiot huh? your kids could’ve died taking on a 2nd grade alone and you’re off being an irresponsible jackass somewhere-“
“no. fucking. way.” you say in disbelief as he turns back to face you
“you have a dirty mouth, sweetheart,” he leans in and whispers softly in your ear, “can’t wait to see just how dirty it can get,” he leans back and says in his normal voice, “but we’ll save that for later!”
#jjk headcanons#jjk#jjk soulmate au#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk satoru gojo#jjk gojo satoru#jjk satoru#jjk gojo#gojo satoru fluff#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen gojo satoru#satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen satoru#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk megumi#jjk itadori#jjk nobara#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu satoru#gojou satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader fluff#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you
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Hello!! Can i request for ekko with an reader who likes to draw him a lot and he finds her Sketches on accident? Thank you!!
Secret Sketches (Ekko x Reader)
Warnings: slightly suggestive, like just a tiny little bit
Genre: fluff i guess
Word Count: 1k
Reader has no set pronouns
You loved sharing your art with people, especially with the Firelights' leader, but there was a secret sketchbook no one had ever seen, and you wanted to keep it that way. The fact that it was a secret wasn't a secret, pretty much everyone knew it, but no one dared touch it, mostly out of respect but also out of fear for your reaction.
However, every now and then Ekko insisted on seeing it, filled with curiosity.
"Come on, I'm sure that whatever's in it is amazing," he said.
"It's not that, it's just that it's a private thing, Ekko," you reminded him. "No matter how much you insist, I won't show you," you said, giggling.
"Well, it was worth trying," he messed with your hair and you let out a grumpy grunt.
Your relationship with him was the nicest thing you had, and even though you always teased and even flirted with one another, you didn't want to mess things. Things were good, there was no reason to change them. Nothing had actually ever happened between the two of you, but the tension was there all the time. With everything going on in Zaun, you both had other things to worry about.
Still, it was nice to dream sometimes. Nice to dream about you lying on his arms at night, legs wrapped around each other while he played with your hair. Or nice to dream about the mundane things, like cooking together and giving each other massages at the end of a long and tiring day.
Sometimes you shared small moments of peace. This was one of them, both of you in his office just talking about whatever, forgetting about all the horrible things for a while. You enjoyed being with him while he worked, not needing to fill the silence every single time and just took pleasure in his company. It was a good deal too, he worked on whatever it was that got his attention lately, and you could draw in peace. Draw him, specifically. Occasionally, Ekko would ask you what you were working on, but you simply brushed him off.
It was late now, every one else was asleep, but you two were still up, and it was beginning to get a bit chilly.
"I think I'm gonna go find a jacket or something," you told him. "I'll be back in a minute, don't set the place on fire," you teased.
"No promises."
He decided to clean up his desk a bit while you were gone because it was a mess, and in doing so he accidentally spilled some water when he hit a glass. Panic filled him quickly, because some of the water had reached your sketchbook. He grabbed it so it wouldn't keep getting wet and in doing so, some sheets of paper fell to the ground. The boy cursed himself for making such a mess in a matter of seconds and went to pick up the papers. Once he actually saw what he was holding, he paused. It was him in different settings, different angles but always him. He should've stopped himself but couldn't fight his curiosity and actually opened the book, seeing that every single page was filled with his features. Before he could continue going through it, you came back and you saw him.
"What the hell are you doing with that?" You instantly recognized your sketchbook and soon had a mix of emotions inside of you, anger and fear being the most prominent ones.
"I'm sorry I- It was an accident."
"How could going through my private things be an accident?"
"I spilled some water and then some sheets fell on the floor and I'm sorry I just couldn't help myself," he blabbered. The silence was awkward for the first time between you two until he broke it again. "Why me?"
You immediately knew what he was talking about, and there was no way you could evade the question or lie to him. "Ekko...," you said and looked at him. "Please, I don't want to embarrass myself again."
It was like you'd said everything without actually saying anything at all. He knew, and you knew he knew, and there was no going back now.
"So what, you think I'm that good-looking?" He teased and chuckled before getting closer to you. "Can't get me off your head?"
You looked into his eyes and then nervously swallowed. "To be honest, no, I can't," you said, "but only because you're a big dumbass."
He smirked and cut the distance between the both of you, placing his lips against yours. Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck while his were on your waist, pulling you even closer to him. "You wanna draw me naked next?" He said against your lips. You chuckled and lightly hit his shoulder before kissing him again, thinking that the jacket you'd brought minutes before was completely useless by now, Ekko could keep you warm for now.
#arcane#ekko x reader#arcane x reader#arcane x you#ekko arcane#ekko fics#ekko fanfic#ekko#arcane x y/n#arcane fanfic#arcane fic
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Just A Bedtime Story ch. 4
Summary: You are out for a swim during your work break, only to stumble upon a fight on the docks. A fight starring a very familiar face.
Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, introduction to Sevika and Nadia (my oc...though technically she's low-key canon lol), Canon typical violence (description of a fight), young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, reader using water manipulation, confirming friendship, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna)
Word Count: 3.7K
A/N: This is a bit of a long one sorry. I caught a little too much in their interactions. Next chapter we will finally get them all aged up!! I hope you all enjoy!
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The waters of the Undercity had always been a comfort to you--a second home. No matter how freezing--no matter how polluted they got, you always found yourself swimming within them.
People who knew you often said if you didn’t need to breathe, you would stay down in the inky depth. And they would be very much corrected.
It was truly too bad you hadn’t developed gills and webbed fingers.
You had just resurfaced to take a much-needed breath when a sound other than lapping water and the creaking of wooden ships caught your ear. It was faint. So faint you found yourself swimming out from under your boss’ dock and toward the sound.
Not only were you an avid swimmer, but you were nosy as hell. A nosiness that got you in trouble more times than not.
The closer and closer you swam, the clearer the sound grew.
Sounds.
Stomping and shuffling feet, grunts and shouts, bone hitting flesh, the sharp zing of a blade flying through the air and cutting through the skin.
It was a fight you were hearing.
You swam toward the ladder on the wall and climbed slowly upward, water dripping off your body and making too much noise. You doubted whoever was fighting could tell the difference between the water swooshing against the wood and your body leaving it, but you could never be too careful.
Peeking your head up over the wooden dock, you found a cluster of boys all around your age or older. You recognized them all instantly as the gang that thought they owned the docks. As the gang that tormented you to no end. Who you had stolen from only two months prior.
They had stayed under the radar since then. You could take a pretty good guess as to why, that being they were embarrassed about their defeat. They were bloodied, bruised, and some dead, and word of their loss had spread like wildfire.
Partially because you had fanned the flames.
But even when you knew they knew you had spread the word, they hadn’t come out of hiding. Not until now.
You pulled yourself a little further upward, trying to catch a glimpse of who they were beating on this time. Slowly and carefully you scanned over the scene and…
There.
You found them. Him. And fucking hell--
It was Silco.
You wondered what the hell he was doing all the way over here? Especially since The Last Drop, his territory, was located in the heart of the Undercity while the docks lay closer to Piltover’s borders. Too close to your liking but you really couldn’t do anything about that.
You wondered why the hell he would draw their attention when he knew they would be out for blood--his blood specifically. While Vander had beat them into a bloody pulp, Silco had killed a good handful of their members.
You had greatly enjoyed this fact, but it still didn’t make it a good idea for him to be wondering about over here where they knew the area best.
It was a ten-on-one fight. Seemingly unfair odds but somehow Silco was still standing. Somehow he was making it nine then eight then seven against one the longer the fight went on.
His movements, while not the most graceful, were ruthless. Movements you knew spoke volumes to the amount of fights he had waged. To the number of fights he had won.
You were awestruck by it. So hypnotized by his fighting that you failed to spy one of the fallen members get back up. To see him grab a loose plank of wood and rush at Silco, who was busy fending off two nasty-looking members.
You and Silco both didn’t see the plank until it was crashing over the back of Silco’s head. He went crumbling to the ground, his knives clattering beside him as he went.
The gang seemed to hesitate. Like maybe they believe he was faking it. Hesitated as if he were some beast who would snap up and crush them between his jaws, but Silco stayed down and your throat tightened.
You rushed up the rest of the ladder, pulling the attention of most of the remaining members just as they went to beat Silco further into the ground.
“Little fishy,” You were disappointed to see Rotting Teeth was still standing, blood running from a deep cut on the ridge of his nose. “I’d say you were here to save your little boyfriend, but your weak as all shit.”
“Good to see your mush-filled skull can still come up with shitty insults.” He grits his rotting teeth at you.
“You still haven’t learned your place, have you?” You blinked at him slowly.
“My…place?” You spoke, mocking confusion. “I don’t know what you mean?” He growled, too easily annoyed.
“You bitch--”
“Oh, gods.” You groaned. “Where is the originality? Little fishy’s good, but bitch? Really? Everyone uses that.”
“Here’s what's gonna happen, bitch.” You shook your head in mock disappointment. “I’m gonna kill your boy toy and then I'm gonna kill you. Understand?” He pulled a very dull-looking knife from his pocket, brandishing it your way like it might scare you.
“No. I don’t think I do, because you won’t be killing anyone.” Rotting Teeth and his gang gave howling rounds of laughter at your words. Laugher you used as a slight distraction as you felt for the water below your feet. Water your magic sung the same melody with.
“Get--” But before Rotten Teeth could give his commands, you yanked the water upward, it hissing sharply as it shot between the planks.
Startled shouts sounded from the gang. Shouts that turned painful as you moved your hands around, guiding the water to shoot into their eyes and nose.
The breath in your lungs grew heavier the longer you used your magic. Magic you knew you could only control for so long before growing too exhausted.
So, with great effort, you willed the waters to wrap around the throats of the remaining eight gang members. They gave strangled and fearful yelps before you were yanking them towards the waters below with a great grunt.
As soon as you heard them splash into the cold waters below, you released your magic quickly. The strain of using such power had you stumbling forward, your vision blurring and every breath pulling in with a slight, whistling wheeze.
Janna had told you to start out small. Exploding the flask being a perfect example. It was at your skill level and you could do it without much thought anymore.
Fully manipulating water like it was a second limb? While very cool, it definitely was still something you were working on…even when you wished to prove the wind spirit wrong.
“You have magic.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement and it was coming from Silco who had at some point regained consciousness.
“Magic’s just a bedtime story.” You huffed and puffed out. Swallowing down air, you wobbled over to him only to nearly trip over his long legs, which were still sprawled out over the dock.
“Bedtime--I just saw you control water.” You gave another swallowed-down bit of air, your vision starting to focus and breathing finally beginning to even.
“I think that asshole hit you harder than I thought.” You knelt down in front of him, grabbing a hold of his head to shove it down and get a better view of the back of it.
“Get your hands off of me.” He hissed, slapping your hand away. You gave a little fake ow at the hit.
“Wow…not even a thank you for saving your life?” You gave a mockingly hurt shake of your head. “That hurts.”
“Oh please.” He all but rolled his eyes, pulling his legs under himself as he prepared himself to get up. “I had it under control.”
“Okay. Yeah. ‘Under control’. We can call it that.” Silco ran one of his hands over his face, showing off his newly split knuckles.
“Where did you even come from?” You held out your hand for him to take. He eyed it for a moment, as if to deny your further help, but reluctantly took hold of it. You helped pull him upward, savoring the feel of his chill skin against yours before it ended a few seconds later.
“Went for a swim. Heard you getting your ass beat--”
“I was not--”
“Swam over here and saved it.” Silco gave you an exasperated sigh through his nose. “This makes us even, ya know. You saved my life, I saved yours.”
“Fine.” He gruffly said. It pulled an all too cheerful smile to your lips that only seemed to annoy him further. “Just don’t tell Vander, yes?” The words quickly fell from him as he passed you. So quick that you almost didn’t catch it.
You had planned on telling Vander the next time you made your way to The Last Drop, but that look in Silco’s eyes…you couldn’t place your finger on it, though your ability to understand emotions was growing much better thanks to hanging around actual humans.
It was a look that was--near animals. Like the thought of Vander finding out you had saved him was turning him into a cornered animal. One that would snap its jaw at anyone that came too close.
Whatever it was, you didn’t like it.
You hopped to his side, wanting to follow him wherever he was heading.
“Okay.” Silco looked at you like he didn’t quite believe you. “If you really don’t want me to, I won’t.”
“But--why?” You gave a shrug.
“I cut into a fight you definitely could have won.” You added a bit of a playful tease to your tone. But even when you kept things playful, you willed your eyes to remain serious. To try and tell him silently you wouldn’t. “Why would I want to brag about my own dishonor.”
“Dishonor? I didn’t know there was honor between thieves and murderers to begin with.” Silco ran his thin fingers through his shaggy hair, trying to tame back the frizzled mess it had become in his fight.
Your own fingers itched as you watched him.
You wanted to do that.
“Oh yes. There’s a code and vow and everything. Very official.” You gave a dead serious nod. “Did you miss that meeting?” An amused smile pulled at the very corners of Silco’s thin lips. Lips you wanted to see sport a full smile. One you wanted wide enough you could look at the V-shaped chip there fully.
You felt bad about it, but damn it was cute. It just completely complimented him.
“Damn. Must have.” You gave him a small chuckle as you came upon your boss’ shop.
“This is where I work.” Silco looked over the gray, stone backing of the shop. Took in the small sign above the door and empty, fish gut-stained crates lining the back door.
“Are you working now?” You a small nod.
“Breaks about to end.” Silco gave a matching small nod, seafoam eyes landing on you once more.
“Ah.”
“Yeah.” Silence filled the space between you two. A silence you didn’t like and was quick to fill. “Why’d you come all the way over here anyway?” Silco ran his fingers through his hair once more, eyes falling away from you as he kicked at an invisible pebble.
“Vander’s helping open The Last Drop. Went for a walk. Ended up here.” You really couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your lips then.
Had he come here to find you? Had he come here to--dare you say--hang out?
It had a giddy feeling bubbling in your chest you had to shove far down.
“Do you want to come inside? I can introduce you to Nadia and Sevika.” He glanced back up at you, brows furrowing the slightest bit.
“And they are…?”
“My friends. Nadia is super sweet. She can clean and wrap your knuckles and take care of any of your other wounds.” Silco subconsciously looked to his bleeding knuckles. You knew he probably wouldn’t take the offer but it was there if he did.
“And the other?”
“Sevika?” He nodded. “Well, Sevika’s…Sevika.” You shrugged. “She’s great. I think you’ll like her.” You grabbed hold of the door handle, which was dented here and there. “Come on. I can sneak you some food too.” At the prospect of food, Silco perked up instantly.
“Fine. But only for a moment.” You beamed at him as he followed after you.
The clatter of plates and pots filled your ears as you shut the door behind Silco, the kitchen a beehive of cooks and dishwashers and the heavenly smell of food. The chef shouted something to one of the other cooks who shouted right back as you reached to grab hold of Silco jacket sleeve.
“Okay so…try not to be so tall.” You whispered, beginning to pull him from behind the wall.
“Wha--am I not supposed to be in here?” You shushed him much to his dislike.
“Technically no. Boss isn’t a big fan of men so…” You thought of how your boss didn’t even like Nadia’s husband, who was probably the sweetest man on this earth. Boss hated men so much she only hired women to work in her diner and on her ship. Hated them so much she only interacted with male customers if it was absolutely necessary.
Silco gave a great sigh, so you tossed him a mischievous smile.
“Don’t worry. She stays in her office most of the day.” But just as you spoke, the door leading out into the front of the house swung open, making you startle so bad it showed physically.
A lithe woman came through carrying a plate of food that looked like it had been picked through by an all too picky customer. Her wild, ruddy red hair had been wrestled into a ponytail that was fighting to escape its confines, and her pale, near pearlescent skin was covered in faint speckling of freckles.
“Chef, I fear they--” Her burnt gold eyes flickered over you, pinkish lips pulling thin. “What have I told you.” She spoke again, her accent thick yet added another layer to her melodic voice. “If you go for a swim you must dry off. Dragging a mess in with you.” She shook her head, “I left a towel for you--” Again she cut herself off when her eyes looked just past you to Silco.
“Nadia, this is Silco.” Her eyes lit in recognition of the name. A name that may or may not have been spewed from your lips many, many times since you first met him. She gave a small shake of her head once more, blowing a deep sigh from her lips.
“Take this,” She all but shoved the plate of food into your hands, before rushing you and Silco into the locker room. “Give me a moment.” She smiled kindly Silco’s way before rushing back out of the door, washing the room in silence.
“See. Food.” You flopped down on one of the wooden benches, crossing your legs as you placed the plate beside you. When Silco continued to stand in the middle of the locker room looking too out of place, you waved him over. “What? Are you scared?” Silco rolled his eyes, following your gesture and sitting down beside the plate.
“Of course not.”
“Then stop acting like a chicken.” You teased, grabbing a few french fries and all but shoving them into your mouth. “The fish is fresh. Caught it this morning.” You spoke around the food in your mouth. Silco’s nose wrinkled at you in slight disgust but he wasted no time in ripping a bit of the fried fish.
“You caught it?” You hummed in yes, grabbing a bit of the fish yourself.
“Boss takes me with her when she goes out to sea. Calls me her good luck charm 'cause we always catch a good haul when I’m around.” Silco nodded, chewing the fish slowly.
“Because of your magic?” You were quick to shush him again. “Oh, would you stop--” Another long shush.
“It’s not magic.” Silco rose a brow at you, not believing it for a second. “And if it was…sure. Maybe that’s the reason.”
“Is it maybe the reason you can swim submerged in the waters and not reap the consequences as well?” You watched him for a long moment, slowing your own chewing.
“I don’t like this line of questioning.” Silco ripped another bit of the fish off.
“Well, magic is rare. As you said, just a bedtime story. It is only natural I would be curious.” He popped the fish into his mouth.
“It is just a bedtime story.” You insisted, messing with a fry between your fingers. “But…probably. But I think it also has to do with how my guardian found me. Just a newborn drowning within them. Someone threw me in.” You held a hand up showing your inky black fingertips, the darkness fading out around your knuckles. Silco’s own eyes scanned them over, then your face. “Use to be worse. Use to have glowing black and red eyes too.”
“That is…horrid.” You shrugged, popping the fry you had been messing with into your mouth.
“Eh. Seen worse.” You mused, grabbing up another fry. Silco’s seafoam eyes darkened in understanding.
They’d all seen worse. Experienced worse.
It came with the territory. It was the unfair truth they all had to live or it would crush them if them is they tried to deny it.
“Why tell me?” Silco’s voice came out quieter. Soft. Like he didn’t even want to ask but needed the answer.
“Because you asked.” You shrugged again.
“That can’t be the reason.”
“I mean--it’s you.” Silco’s eyes narrowed slightly in confusion to your answer. “I--you’re my friend. We’re friends. And…I guess I trust you to know. I want you to know.” You suddenly felt your stomach hollow out and your palms begin to sweat.
Nervous.
He made you so nervous.
You hated it but found you wouldn’t try to change it.
“We’re…friends.” Silco carefully said. Like it was a secret itself.
“I mean--I guess we don--” Silco shushed you just as you had him. It was an unexpected thing for him to do. One that had you gasping.
“We’re friends.” He confirmed, offering you a small smile. A smile that only made your heart twist and turn in your chest. One you couldn’t help but copy and copy brightly.
“Yes. Good. I’m glad.” He gave a small nod, turning his all-too-seeing eyes back down onto the plate between you two.
Oh, you could giggle. Oh, you could jump up and down and giggle.
“After I get off of work--” But your words were cut off by the door to the locker door banging open.
Nadia was hushly shouting, grabbing hold of Sevika’s strong arm and yanking as if she could actually move the girl.
Silco was quick to his feet, readying for a fight he might have to wage against the girl. You watched his calculating eyes take in the muscle-ripped teen as if already searching for weaknesses to exploit.
Sevika went right up to him, bending down to look him straight in the eyes when she truly didn’t need to. It was just her way of telling him she saw him as inferior until he proved otherwise.
“This is him?” Sevika asked, eyes never once leaving Silco’s own.
“Sevika, enough of all this.” Nadia tried again, but Sevika was quick to shake her off.
“I’m not doing anything, Dee.” She responded nonchalantly, but her demeanor was anything but. Nadia turned to look at you for help but you just shoved another fry into your mouth.
Silco’d be okay.
“Awfully close.” Silco calmly said. Though, just like Sevika, his demeanor was anything but.
“Small room.” She shrugged. “Come to see her?” Sevika shoved a thumb your way.
“She found me wandering.”
“Wandering? So far from the heart of the city?”
“It gets a bit boring staying in one place for too long, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I guess I would.” Sevika leaned in ever closer. So close you were almost jealous, wanting to be that close to him too. “You gonna hurt her?”
“Hasn’t given a reason to.” Sevika nodded at this, gray eyes having yet to soften into their normal gaze.
“Play cards?” Silco nodded back.
“Of course.” Sevika's eyes finally softened, her plump lips pulling as she gave a laugh. Silco’s shoulders loosened as she backed away, looking back to you and Nadia.
“Didn’t tell me he played cards.”
“Why would I ask that?” Sevika gave a deep, almost irritated sigh that was only teasing.
“Come on, guppy. That’s the most important question.” You gave an elongated sorry. “Guess you wouldn’t ask, seeing as you suck ass at playing any kinda card game.” You dramatically gasped, throwing a fry her way. The bit of fried potato bounced off her skin like she hadn’t even felt it.
More shouting sounded from within the kitchen. Shouting that had you, Naida, and Sevika all tensing at the sound, Silco the only one not privy to who it belonged to.
“Boss’ll kill him.” Sevika laughed. “See you ‘round, Silco. If you escape.” And back out the door she went.
“Oh dear, oh dear.” Nadia was ringing her apron between her hands. “You must go.” She insisted to Silco, “Oh dear--forgive Sevika for us. Oh, and your knuckles.” She gave a look like his wounds were her wounds. “Forgive me. They look painful.”
“He’ll live.” You waved her off, the shouting growing closer. Shouting now joined in by Sevika trying to keep the boss at bay.
“Will I?” He asked as you shoved the half-full plate into his hands.
“Probably.” You gave him a mischievous wiggle of your eyebrows. He opened his mouth as if to say something against whatever you were about to do, but you grabbed his wrist and yanked him back out the locker room before any sound could leave it.
You’re boss all but bellowed your name, Nadia’s nervous voice trying to calm her down as you threw open the back door and shoved Silco out of it. You watched him stumble out, losing a few fries, before turning back around, looking very much bewildered.
“I get off work at seven. I’ll bring you dinner, yeah?” You called to him. Silco had just started saying your name as you shut the door in his face.
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#silco x you#silco x reader#silco x y/n#silco#silco fic#silco arcane#silco arcane fic#arcane#arcane fic#arcane season 1#pre-season 1 arcane#arcane season 1 fic#janna league of legends#sevika#sevika arcane#vander#vander arcane#the water's cold embrace#my fic#dividers by warthofrats
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Imagine C catching Mc and D making out on the couch of their dorm's common room 👀 I'm positively certain they'd ban D from ever inviting Mc ever again
the evening started simply enough. you and D were lounging on the couch in the common room, tucked away in a quiet corner. it was late, and C had gone out to the library, leaving the space to the two of you.
D was sprawled across the couch, somehow managing to look comfortable and slightly smug, like they were already reading the thoughts drifting around in your head. you’d been talking about nothing, really—college, summer break plans, dumb stuff—but with D, even the simplest things could become something flirtratious. they had this way of smiling with a slight quirk at the corner of their mouth, or of letting their fingers trace idle patterns on your arm that made your heart do a little flip.
it didn’t take long before D closed the distance between you, inch by inch, their fingers finding your hand, then your shoulder, moving slowly as if testing the waters. their gray gaze was both daring and playful, a glint in their eye that practically dared you to look away. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. instead, you felt your cheeks flush as they leaned in, catching your lips in a soft, warm kiss that seemed to ignite everything inside you.
the kiss deepened, growing from soft to heated, and soon D was leaning more into you, their hands roaming your back, your waist, drawing you closer, and you barely registered how your jacket had slipped off, how D’s t-shirt was now on the floor, until you were both half-leaning, half-sprawled against each other. the only sounds were your shared breaths and the soft rustling of fabric as the world faded, leaving just the warmth of their touch and the spark that crackled between you.
suddenly, the door to the common room swung open with an abrupt, almost dramatic force, and there was C, standing in the doorway. they blinked, eyes widening as they took in the scene. C went rigid, looking as though they’d stumbled upon you two smoking weed. their mouth opened, then closed, and for a split second, they looked like they might just turn on their heel and walk out.
“oh my fucking god,” C stammered, their cheeks flushing an almost comedic shade of red. “what the hell are you two doing?”
you and D snapped apart, sitting up in a rush, and it took all your willpower not to laugh, though your face was burning with embarrassment.
“C!” you managed to squeak, desperately adjusting your shirt. “it’s, um, not what it looks like?”
“really?” C replied, raising an eyebrow as they folded their arms, a familiar, indignant edge in their tone. “because it sure looks like this was headed somewhere.”
D, ever the unbothered one, gave a casual shrug, smirking just a bit as they ran a hand through their messy hair. “don’t get all dramatic, C. we were just hanging out.”
“hanging out?” C shot back, looking equal parts horrified and disbelieving. “is that what we’re calling the fact that you two were practically dry humping each other while being half-naked?”
D chuckled, clearly enjoying C’s dismay, leaning back into the couch with a look that said they weren’t about to apologize. “well, it wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. you’re the one who barged in.”
“this is my suite too, you know,” C muttered, rubbing their temples as if they were trying to will themselves to calm down. “plus, this is the common room, not your personal love nest.”
“it’s late,” D pointed out, undeterred. “who was going to walk in here at this hour?”
“me,” C replied, still glaring. “i was going to walk in. unless their—” they pointed at you, “—tongue down your throat made you get amnesia or something.”
you tried to hold back a laugh, mumbling, “C, it’s not like we planned for this to happen when you walked in…”
C threw their hands up, clearly done. “obviously! but do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be to erase this…this image from my mind?”
D leaned forward, resting their chin on their hand with a nonchalant grin. “think of it as expanding your puritan horizons.”
C gave them a look that could kill. “you have two seconds to get off that goddamn couch before i officially ban you from bringing anyone into this room ever again.”
“alright, alright, we’re up.” D held up their hands in mock surrender, but there was a glimmer of amusement in their eyes as they glanced at you. “guess we’ve officially been cockblocked.”
“i didn’t expect anything else, honestly,” you replied, throwing D a wry smile.
C shook their head, clearly still flustered. “i swear, you two, if you’re going to do this sort of thing, just do it in D’s room.”
D’s grin widened as they draped an arm over your shoulder, still shirtless, only making C roll their eyes at their unabashed nature. “oh, don’t worry. we’ll make sure of not being in your line of sight the next time.”
C looked like they were about to explode, taking a deep, steadying breath as they pointed toward the door. “out. both of you. now. get some cold air or get each other off somewhere else before i lose what little patience i have left.”
with an exaggerated sigh, D quickly got dressed and stood up, giving you a wink as they reached for your hand. “guess our night’s over.”
as the two of you made your way to the door, C muttered something under their breath that you couldn’t quite catch, but you were pretty sure you heard the words “unbelievable” and “absolutely shameless.” just as you reached the door, C called out, one last note of warning in their voice.
“and don’t even think about bringing that…” C gestured vaguely, as if searching for a word, “energy back here again when you come back, D. or so help me…”
D threw a grin over their shoulder, giving C a cheerful thumbs-up. “got it, boss. we’ll keep our ‘energy’ under control next time.”
“good night,” C snapped, practically pushing you both out the door, the exasperation plain in every line of their face.
as soon as the door shut behind you, you burst into laughter, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. D joined in, their laughter warm and genuine, a little spark of mischief dancing in their eyes. they gave your hand a squeeze, leaning in close with a smirk that told you they were ready to continue where you left off.
“next time,” they murmured, voice low and soft, “we’ll make sure to choose a place C’s snobby ass can’t interrupt us.”
you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the last of your embarrassment fade as you walked together down the hall, the warmth of D’s hand in yours, the quiet thrill of the evening lingering long after the laughter had faded.
#C and their anti-horny spray are goals ❤️#not today satan#ro: c lacroix#ro: d diaconu#if: the ballad of the young gods#interactive fiction#interactive novel#interactive story#twine wip#ro scenarios
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Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader
summery: you share your first kiss with Daisuke.
tw: idk, insecure reader?
a/n: this turned out kinda meh, starting to burn out, I'll start with the actual plot in the next one.
wc: 1.4k
Master List
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine
You hadn’t meant to peek. You honestly thought it was a book you forgot you brought. Well, that was until you noticed the leather book had no title, which you then assumed was a sketch book your parents gave you in a misguided attempt as a gift that somehow ended up in your book pile. But when you opened it you realized you were sorely mistaken, sketches of pokemon, digimon, and the crew littered the pages. This was Daisuke’s sketch book. Not only was it because no one else on board would draw pokemon (as far as you knew), but the farther into the book you went, the more the pages were just filled with images of you. Whether it be just little stick figures of you and Daisuke holding hands, or full on detailed sketches of your face, all the way to your name doodled on the corners with his last name (or vice versa).
Oh gosh, you felt like a monster. You weren’t supposed to be seeing these. Daisuke must've left it in your room by accident and here you were paging through it without his permission. You were a terrible partner. Snapping the book close, you squeezed your eyes shut. Why the hell did you keep looking? Damn you and your curiosity, you broke a boundary that you only hoped could be mended.
With determination to make this right, you marched out of your room, the small book clutched to your chest. Thankfully it wasn’t too late, you had just been getting ready for sleep when you stumbled upon it after all. Honestly, it was surprising Daisuke wasn’t with you already, the two of you shared a room more often than not these days. It wasn’t a far walk to his rooms, everyone's sleeping quarters were close to each other. Knocking on his door, you didn’t have to wait long, the open door revealing Daisuke with his gameboy in hand. “Hey,” You greeted.
“Hey,” He replied back, glancing up at you before quickly looking back at his game. “Jus’ give me a sec. I’m almost done with this level.”
“Okay,” You murmured, shuffling over to sit on his bed. That made Daisuke paused for a second, glancing at you once again and noticed your nervous expression. Biting his lip, he let out a groan when the game let out the familiar sound of losing, you had unintentionally distracted him and he failed again. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he tossed the handheld console to the side, plopping down next to you. He needed a break anyways, he had been trying to beat that level for thirty minutes straight.
“What’s up?” Diauke asked, tilting his head to get a better look at you.
“I’m sorry,” You apologized, holding his sketchbook out to him. “I didn’t realize it was yours and I looked through it. I should’ve stopped when I realized it wasn’t mine but I kept looking. I am so sorry.”
Taking the book from your hands, Daisuke put it to the side and instead gently grabbed your hands, a small smile tugged at his lips, “Hey, it’s alright. I don’t mind, not that big of a deal.”
You paused, staring at him, eyes wide and slightly confused, “You’re not angry? Aren’t those personal? I went through your stuff.” It was like you were trying to justify your guilt, not able to accept the fact that you had probably over thought the whole ordeal. Not able to accept the fact that you could be forgiven so easily. Why wasn’t he angry? Or annoyed? Sure, he always seemed laidback and carefree, but he was still human. You had seen him insecure, and bummed out, it wasn’t out of the wheelhouse to see him at least peeved as well.
“It was an accident,” He shrugged, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. “And it’s mostly just silly doodles, nothing to get upset about. I’d let you look at them if you asked…or even give you a few.”
“There seemed to be a few personal ones,” You murmured, hands tightening around his own, but your argument sounded weak even to you.
Letting go of your hands, Daisuke opened his sketch book and flipped to an image of you with little hearts surrounding it, a mischievous grin on his face, “You mean the ones like this?”
You opened your mouth, face warming at how nonchalant he was about it. Glaring at him you huffed, “I can’t stand you.”
“Is it a crime to draw the one you love?” Daisuke asks dramatically, putting a hand over his heart.
“Yes,” You responded in a deadpan tone.
With a pout, he replied, “Well, you can’t blame me for wanting to draw something pretty.”
Giving in to your impulses, you leaned forward and smooshed his cheeks in between your hands, “You can’t just say things like that and get away with it.”
Daisuke merely giggled, grin brightening under your palms. This was supposed to ease your cute aggression, not make it worse, but it seemed you still didn’t have a full understanding of your emotions. Perhaps you never will fully understand it, but what you did know was that you were going to make him pay for his crimes.
Leaning forward, you place a short kiss on his forehead. Your heart jumped when you made eye contact, his brown eyes shining, watching you in awe. It pushed you to go further, moving your palms from squishing his cheeks to holding his jaw, assaulting his face with fluttering kisses. You made sure you didn’t miss an inch, stomach twisting in knots at how much affection you were sharing, but also feeling oddly content. When you finished, you pulled away enough to make eye contact once more.
Daisuke felt his heart pound in his chest, his cheeks warm and eyes wide in awe. You had been pretty reserved in your relationship so far, not that he minded. You were clearly out of your depth, unsure how to accept and offer physical affection, but your kind actions and words showed how much you cared. Although he was also new to the whole dating thing, being affectionate with you had become second nature to him. Having you not only act first, but cross a boundary neither of you dared to cross took his breath away and made him feel all melty.
Sure, you hadn’t kissed him on the lips, but neither of you had done more than hold the other. The feeling of your lips continued to warm his skin, and he couldn’t help but wish you just laid one on him, but he also respected your wishes. If you weren’t ready for that, he wouldn’t push. He wanted you to go at your own pace since you were clearly more uncertain in the relationship.
“You missed,” Daisuke teased, watching you with a warm gaze.
Pouting Scowling, you smooshed his cheeks again, causing him to laugh. Your blood thrummed in your ears, your heart speeding up and you continued to feel more confident in your actions. You glanced down at his lips, should you…? Was that him giving you the okay? Were you even ready for that?
Apparently tonight was a night of acting instead of thinking for you. Relaxing your hold on his face, you placed the shortest peck on his lips in recorded human history. Daisuke barely felt it, but it still made his breath hitch. You had actually kissed him, lip to lip, the whole smoocharoo. You stared at each other, wide eyed and hearts beating in tandem. Such a simple moment for some was world changing for you both.
“Can…can we do that again?” Daisuke whispered, scared to break the atmosphere.
You nodded, a shaky okay spilling from your lips. It was Daisuke’s turn to act first, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips in a light kiss. You press your lips to his a bit firmer, but your inexperience shows as you're left unsure how to proceed. You felt a bit embarrassed, but it was hard to keep that thought as Daisuke smiled so much you ended up having to pull away.
“We gotta work on that,” He muttered, his grin betraying his giddiness.
“I think you just want more kisses,” You murmured back, feeling your heart skip a beat.
“Can you blame me?” He laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”
“Must be your lucky day then.”
“The luckiest.”
#mouthwashing x reader#daisuke mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing daisuke x reader#mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing daisuke#x reader
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All I had • Mattheo Riddle x f!reader
Requested: No well I lowkey did
Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x f!reader
Summary: After his girlfriend y/n is killed, Mattheo has to deal not only with pain and sorrow, but also cruel accusations (complete original prompt here)
Word count: long as hell 2.4K
Warnings: mentions of death, lost, and grief
A/N: When I had this idea a few weeks ago I didn't think it would actually be so hard to write and I hate it lol :) I can't remember for the life of me if people in universe know Voldemort wants to be immortal, so for this one be an angel and pretend they do :) Might write a part two with a certain someone if many people ask 👀. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.
Hogwarts, 1997.
The two Aurors were walking right behind him, firmly holding his arms to prevent him from running. Run where? he thought. Not that he had somewhere to go. Snape, who had always looked at Mattheo and his brother with an annoying suspicion, was walking ahead of them, his robes floating behind him. Mattheo didn’t know where they were going, or why. Not that he actually cared. Even though the Auros were leading his movements, his legs still seemed to be carrying him on their own, and if he didn’t try to resist, protest or at least ask questions to the silent Aurors, it was only because he didn’t have any energy or will to do so. Everything, including his body, felt numb and his mind was clouded, not functioning properly at all, barely noticing or hearing what was happening around him, instead full of the events of the night, as if it was trying to look for a reason. The only thing he could feel was the grip of the Aurors on his upper arms, the painful dryness of his blurry eyes, his throat sore from crying, his still wet cheeks, and this feeling of unbearable pain, anguish and confusion inside his chest.
After walking through countless corridors, they finally arrived in a smaller corridor, where Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were apparently expecting them. It often came as a surprise to those who didn’t know, but Mattheo actually held great respect for the old headmaster. How could he not? He was the only person his father had ever feared. Dumbledore was still the same as usual, looking calm and serene, while McGonagall looked at Mattheo with what seemed to be sadness. As they came closer, Mattheo saw a simple gray door on the right, which suddenly opened.
“Mr. Riddle,” Dumbledore said with a calm, almost kind voice, and Mattheo only raised his eyes towards him for a quarter of a second before looking at the ground again, “I will have to ask you to sleep here tonight. If you are in need of anything, please feel free to ring the bell. But I assure you, everything will be alright.”
‘Alright’? Mattheo would have laughed if he could. Behind him, the Auror snigged. Mattheo didn’t speak a word, and when he turned to pass the door, he saw Snape give him a more suspicious look than before. He managed to enter the room, which was a rudimentary bedroom with a bed, two chairs around a small rounded table with a small golden bell on it, and a sink. No window whatsoever, only a few candles floating in the air and drawing shadows on the walls.
“If you wish to turn the candles off, just ask them to sleep,” Dumbledore told him.
“We will be back in the morning,” one of the Aurors told the Headmaster, and then the door closed abruptly, leaving Mattheo completely alone with his thoughts and the cold silence of a cold room.
After a long, boring day of classes, he had spent the evening in y/n’s dorm, talking and cuddling, enjoying the comfort and peace only her could make him feel. Then Theo texted him, asking him if he fancied a smoke. Mattheo initially wanted to refuse, not wanting to leave y/n’s embrace, but she told him to go, that she didn’t want to keep him away from his friends. And so Mattheo went, going to one of the darkest corners of the castle where he and Theo knew they wouldn’t be caught by any professors and especially Filch. But the smoke break lasted much longer than usual, and when Mattheo went back to y/n’s dorm, planning on continuing their night together and eventually falling asleep with her in his arms, he walked by the castle’s courtyard and, in the dark of the night, saw something strange on the courtyard’s ground. Frowning, he had hesitated before slowly walking towards it, curiosity leading his mind. The closer he got, the more the strange “thing” on the ground, the clearer the mass on the ground got, and soon it appeared to be a body. Despite the fear that it might be someone he knew, Mattheo had quickened his pace, and barely a few meters later, he recognized whose body it was.
Oh, God. No, no, please, no. Not this. Anything but this.
At the second he recognized y/n’s body, he ran towards it and fell beside her, immediately holding her to his chest, gently shaking her despite his panic which grew every quarter of a second.
“y/n?! y/n, can you hear me? Baby?”
But he didn’t get any answer, and when he checked her pulse, he had almost felt his heart break from the pain.
“No, no, no, y/n, please! Fuck!”
Tears had started to feel, and he was now screaming. He didn’t know how long he spent here, holding her body as tight as he could, crying like he never thought he ever would and begging her to come back, to not leave him alone, but at one point, someone had seen him, had a loud gasp, and had ran to tell someone. Soon, Professor McGonnagall and two Aurors were here, and they tried to take her from him. He screamed and protested, not wanting to let her go, but they managed to separate them, and Mattheo was then led there, his entire being shattered in pieces and his mind unable to work knowing she was gone.
Not caring to take off his shoes, Mattheo laid on the bed, and tears started to run down his cheeks. She’s gone, she’s gone, his mind kept screaming, and yet, it refused to accept it.
This is just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. I’m gonna wake up soon.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink or eat, Mr Riddle? Professor Dumbledore insisted.”
Mattheo barely looked at the Auror sitting on the other side of the metallic table, and kept silent. He could hardly keep his eyes open, too tired from not sleeping at all the night before - and yet not feeling sleepy at all.
“Well,” the Auror continued, putting a long, thin black bow on the table. “I guess we can start, then. Mr Riddle, do you know why you’re here?”
Mattheo shook his head.
“Really?” the other Auror asked, sitting next to his colleague. “No clue? At all?”
This time, Mattheo raised his eyes towards the two men for a few seconds, and tried not to find weird the way they were looking at him - with disdain, coldness, and something he couldn’t quite get yet - as, after all, a lot of people looked at the son of the Dark Lord with suspicious - Snape included - or even fear, and he got used to it. Why would their eyes matter, when y/n’s eyes looked at him with nothing but love?
And now I won’t ever see them again. Mattheo felt his eyes becoming watery, and tried to fight tears as much as he could.
“Because y/n is gone,” he said, looking at the table.
“You’re right,” the Auror on the left said. “But allow me to be more precise, Mr Riddle. Miss y/l/n is gone… because you killed her.”
Mattheo’s mind, still as cloudy as the night before, suddenly cleared up like and working like a machine being turned on. He looked at the two men, and suddenly understood the reason they had been looking at him like that ever since they came into the room a few minutes earlier. They think I’m guilty.
This is a nightmare. This is a nightmare. This isn’t real. I’ll wake up any moment and see her sleeping next to me.
Shock, anger, and a bit of panic and confusion came into him like a gigantic wave. “What? I didn’t kill her! Why the hell would I kill her?”
This is a nightmare. This is a nightmare.
“Oh, you would be surprised at all the reasons why a man could kill his girlfriend. She caught him cheating, he caught her cheating, she saw something she shouldn’t have seen…” the Auror stopped, and looked at Mattheo with malice. “Or maybe he wants to prove himself to his father.”
If he could, Mattheo would have laughed. Here it is. The “son of the Dark Lord” bullshit. He ran his hand through his hair, and sighed.
“You think I killed y/n because my father asked me?” he asked, trying his absolute best to remain calm. “Why would I have accepted?”
“Well, you’re the second son. The spare. Your father likely planned for your brother Tom to be his second in command, and, if he were to die, his heir, didn’t he? And then, what do you have left, Mr Riddle? At best, you remain the spare and then your brother’s second in command your whole life, and in the worst case… Nothing.”
y/n. I would have y/n.
“Dumbledore told us your father tried to contact you last summer,” the second Auror spoke.
Mattheo felt annoyance growing inside of him, “and did he also tell you that I refused, and hid from him the whole time?”
“Yes,” the first Auror admitted. “He did say you told him that. But how can we be sure you didn’t lie?”
Mattheo closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
“So, you guys think I’m a murderer just because my father is? For no other reason than that?”
“Actually, Mr. Riddle, the main reason we do believe that, is because…of that.”
The Auror took the long, thin black bow he had put earlier on the table, and opened it before showing the inside to Mattheo, whose eyes opened in surprise.
“My wand?”
“Yes, Mr Riddle, we-”
“I lost it,” Mattheo interrupted with a louder voice, feeling his heart beat faster, “I lost it yesterday sometime after class. Where did you find it?!”
“You lost it?” the Auror asked while crossing his arms, sounding amused, “Well, did you tell anyone? Any teachers?”
“I went to tell Professor Snape,” Mattheo answered, “but he wasn’t in his office. I waited for him for almost an hour but he never came back. My friend Lorenzo saw me, I asked him if he knew where Snape was.”
The Auror shared a look that told Mattheo they already knew Lorenzo had seen him - and yet didn’t believe him.
“Now,” Mattheo continued, more annoyed by the second, “where did you find my wand?”
“Why, near you, Mr Riddle. When we found you near your victim’s corpse,” the second Auror said as if it was obvious.
The dark-haired boy stared at them in disbelief. “What? No, you’re…You’re lying.”
“And when we used Prior Incantato, we saw that the last spell your wand used was the killing curse.”
“That’s why he brought you here, Mr Riddle”, the second Auror continued immediately. “If we didn’t find your wand near you, our theory wouldn’t be based on anything. We might even have believed you when you’re telling us you didn’t kill miss y/l/n.”
“I did not kill her!” Mattheo screamed.
The Auror sighed, “Mr Riddle, please. Out of respect for miss y/l/n and her family, do tell us the truth. They deserve justice.”
“You’re lucky, you know?” the second Auror went on, “If it wasn’t for Professor Dumbledore, you’d be in Azkaban, awaiting your trial.”
“I’m innocent!” Mattheo yelled, feeling himself going mad. “I told you the truth!”
“Alright,” the Auror said with a loud voice, putting a clenched fist on the table. “If you didn’t do it, then who did?”
“How would I know?” Mattheo snapped. “I found her body in the courtyard, and I didn’t see anybody else.”
“See? You can’t give us a second option. Our talks with teachers and students told us Miss y/l/n had no enemies, was loved by both classmates and teachers alike, and her parents are good people. No one had a reason to kill her, except for you.”
“We don’t need to know the reasons on why you did it, Mr Riddle,” the first Auror said in an almost kinder, more patient tone. “Even though we have some ideas about the ‘why’. Just admit you did it.”
“Admit you did it because either your father asked you to do it, or because, despite your best efforts to make people believe you’re different from him, the truth is, you’re just like him.”
“I didn’t do it!” Mattheo screamed. “How many do I have to tell you?! I didn’t kill y/n! Someone must have taken my wand and killed her! How can you not see that?!”
The first Auror sighed, meanwhile the second clenched his jaw.
“Mr Riddle, y/n-”
“DO NOT USE HER NAME!” Mattheo shrieked.
But the Auror ignored him, closing his eyes for a second, “y/n had a family, friends, people who loved her, and a whole life with a bright future ahead of her.”
Yes. And all I had was her.
“You took enough from her. Do you take away from her grieving parents the satisfaction that their daughter’s killer is not in prison, paying for his crime.”
Mattheo put his face in his hands, feeling tears burn his eyes.
“I want to see my brother.”
“Your brother?” the first Auror asked, and this time he sounded genuinely surprised.
“Well,” Mattheo spat, raising back his head to stare at the two men, “someone should find y/n’s killer if I’m going to be in Azkaban soon, don’t you think?”
“So you admit it? You killed her?”
“No! For fuck’s sake, no I didn’t kill fucking kill her!”
They didn’t understand, Mattheo thought with desperation and frustration, putting his head back in his hands. Mattheo couldn’t even remember how life was before he fell in love with y/n during their third year. All he remembered is that two years ago, in their fifth year here, he finally gathered the courage to let her know how he felt, and, by some miracle, this beautiful, sweet witch with a heart of gold felt the same way about him. Ever since, all that was inside his mind was y/n, how his heart, life and soul belonged to her and her only, how she was the only one to not see him as Voldemort’s son but how he really was instead, how she was always there for him, especially when he started feeling anxious when his father came back after the Triwizard Tournament, and how their kisses, their hugs and cuddles and sleeping with her in his arms were the most important things to him. And now, he had lost it all.
The two Aurors suddenly rose from their chairs, and left the room, leaving Mattheo alone with his broken heart and nonfunctioning mind.
This is a nightmare, this is a nightmare.
PART 2
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Masterlist
#harry potter#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#tom riddle#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#angst#benjamin wadsworth#reader insert#hp fanfic#lorenzo berkshire#masterlist
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I want to see my man in pain, Adam break down after reader said they want to break up (fluff in the end pls) 😞
I reaaaally enjoyed writing this
I love pain 🥹
💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖
Used
Adam POV
It was a normal night. Out talking to some babes. Tellin' them how great I am. Because, well, I AM! HA! I'm the first fucking man! These bitches swarm me. Who am I to deny them. I check my phone a see y/n has text me. "Ugh, what do you want now you needy fuckin'" I can't believe what I'm reading.
"we're done."
My heart sinks. Why is it sinking. I don't care. I'm fucking ADAM!! Adam stands, pushing away the crowd of angels surrounding him and tries calling you. "Come on.. come on, pick up, you dumb bitch." No answer. NO FUCKING ANSWER. His head spins. Panic sets in as. This isn't happening. Not again.
You think you're better than me?! You're nothing! I'm Adam!! I can get ANYONE I FUCKING WANT YOU THINK I NEED YOU?!
I'VE GOT TONS OF BITCHES WAITING FOR ME!
I DONT NEED YOU I NEVER NEEDED YOU!
He tries calling you again. No answer. "FUCK!" He expands his wings and shoots up, smashing through the skylight. He continues to text and call as he makes his away to your apartment. "FUCKING ANSWER ME!" He screams into his phone. By the time he arrives at your apartment he calms himself down, "I can get them back." He thinks to himself as he lands on your balcony. "They didn't mean it. They couldn't of."
As he reaches for the handle of the sliding door his hand shakes. "No, no, no, no." He grips onto his wrist stepping back from the door, being stopped my the railing. He slides down to the floor. "No, no, no...." His voice cracks, fear, sadness, anger. He never let himself get close. At least that's what he told himself. After the second wife also betrayed him he swore he'd never care so he would never hurt. But somewhere along the way, he fell for you. Although he denied himself.
He rushed to remove his mask, feeling like he can't breathe. Once he got it off he threw it aside. Clutching at his chest as tears escaped from his eyes. "No, no, no.." he whimpered. He sat on the floor for an hour. Thinking about you. What he did wrong. If he did something terrible. Why you're ending it. There wasn't even anything to end and yet his world felt like it was crashing around him.
Once he calmed down he leaned forward and sighed. Wiping his cheeks as he stood up and put his mask back on. He reached for the handle, hesitating before opening the sliding door. He sees you in your bed, asleep. He closed the door quietly and just watched you. For about half an hour before he realised how much a creep he's being. He walked into your livingroom. He's been here plenty times before. He memorized the layout.
He walks over to one of your succulents. You loved them. Once he came over and accidentally knocked one on the floor. You were so upset. He didn't see the big deal but he still went out of his way to buy you a new pot for it and a new succulent altogether. Just something to say he was sorry without actually saying sorry. He smiled as he remembered your joy. He sat on the couch and waited.
A couple hours later he heard rustling in your room. He shot up from the couch and heading to your bedroom, freezing at the doorway as he sees you wake. You scream in surprise, falling off your bed. He noticed your phone falling off the nightstand with you. His chest tightens. Your phone. Those horrible texts. "Adam?! What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!" You yell at him, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He stands there, feeling awkward. "You want to leave me?" He asked, trying hard to not break his voice. You tut, he watches at you stand, wanting to help but to afraid to move. "You say that like you cared." You snap, picking your phone up from the floor. "Don't look at that." He took a step towards you, reaching out but you recoiled. "Why? You next me nasty shit? Telling me I'm worthless? That I was lucky to -" he interrupted, "y/n, I'm sorry. I just want to know what I did wrong."
Adam braces himself. For you to yell. For you to scream. For you to tell him you love someone else. "I just... I can't... I don't want to be a place holder for you." His shoulders slump down he hesitantly steps closer to you "What are you talking about?" He carefully slides his hand under yours "I don't want to be someone you just use until you find someone better." His fingers interlace with your as his other hand brushes your hair from you face. His breath catches seeing your red, watery eyes "I just want to be... I don't know, Adam."
His hand cups your face. He looks into your eyes and for the first time in eons he chose to be vulnerable. "Be mine?" He watches you shrug. Rightfully assuming you've misunderstood his request he clarifies "no, I'm asking. Be mine." The way you look at him makes his chest tighten in fear. "What?" He recoiled. "I mean, maybe we could start again? Like.. properly?"
"You mean like.. date? What happened to "I don't date. I'm the first man. I have the first penis ever bla bla!"" He glares at you. Of course you'd remember that. "I don't sound like that." "You do." Adam brow furrows in in frustration. "Whatever, y/n, please. I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you. Please don't leave me." He felt pathetic. He was pathetic. "I'll have to think about it." His chest tightened. His heart beating a million miles a minute. You'd see how pale he would be if he wasn't wearing the mask. "H-how long will that take?" He asked, desperation leaking out of him.
"I don't know, Adam." You shrug. The air was thick. He was struggling to breath and needed to get out of there. "I really care about you, y/n. You have to believe me, babe." He kisses your hand before releasing it. "Just.. uh... Delete those texts. I didn't mean any of it." He heads to the sliding door he entered from, opening it and expanding his wings as he jumps off. He looks behind to see if you watched leave like you've done so maybe times before. But you're not there.
It's been a month. A whole month. It should feel like nothing to him considering how long he's been in existence yet it feels like a years. He sees you about. With your friends. Getting groceries. Whenever his eyes catch on to you he freezes. No matter what he's doing.
He can't keep this up. He didn't want to pressure you. Make you feel like you had to choose him. But fuck he needed you to choose him. He was in his office. But he couldn't focus. He was so tired, not being able to sleep well without you. Even if he didn't sleep the whole night it was always nice knowing you were there no matter what. At least that's what he used to think.
He checked his phone to see nothing from you. It was too much. He was alone. You were never coming back. No one ever comes back. Lilith left him. Eve left him. Now you. "Fuck. FUCK!" He picks up his coffee and punts it at the wall. He can't stay here. He needs to find you. He needs you back.
He swung the door open and there you were. He couldn't believe it. He thought you'd at least text him. Not show up at his office! His feathers were literally ruffled, his office looks like a bombs hit it. "Y/n?" He said softly, it was like time stopped for a minute. He wish it did. Then he could scoop you in his arms and never let you leave. He snapped back into reality changing his expression quickly, not want anyone to see a softer side to him. "Come in." He stands aside letting you in to his office. He hates that you didn't text. He would of cleaned up there were documents everywhere, a smashed mug on the floor and coffee stains on the wall. He hated it was such a mess for you. "Bad day?" You commented he grumbled in response. "There are no bad days in heaven." He mumbled as he slumps down on his office chair.
Resting his chin on the back of his hand as he watches you walk over to his office window, opening it. The musky smell almost dissipating immediately "So... I thought about it." He perks up, sitting straight, watching you like a hawk. "And?"
"and I'm willing to start again. Properly." He immediately bolts from his chair, wrapping his arms around you. "Fuck, thank fucking Christ. Don't do that to me again. Please." His voice breaks, wings surrounded the both of you. "Please, I'm sorry. I'll treat you so much better." "Promise?" "Yes, promise."
~♡✧。 I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! 。✧♡~
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin hotel adam x reader#adam x reader#hazbin hotel adam smut
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A tired girl is aching to get some sleep when her karma doesn't let her.
An act of laziness and, well, cheating got her to her lowest. The act being summoning of a devil, an incubus, to cure her boredom. This girl had her summer vacations going on and her friends had abandoned her on the very first minute of it.
So she decided to poke around and found out about a spell that summoned an incubus. Not believing in this nonsense, she decided to try it out. Well, there was an upside and a downside.
Upside -> She got a boyfriend who oozed out sexual energy like hell
Downside -> This boyfriend was not one who pampered her but was to be pampered.
Lavi was a fucking bitch in heat who always clung to Y/n.
Never letting her take a breather.
And a few times he was abandoned, when Y/n was going on a night out or something (not with her friends but just visiting a bar for a drink) then he would get very pouty and thus established some rules. One of them being, you going out with him and your friends only.
One fine evening, while You sat on your bed with Lavi on your lap, your hand combing through his hair, while he was going through some weird incubus hentai manga and criticizing it to be very inaccurate and boring.
Then, a sudden notification pop caught your and his attention.
A notification from your dead friends!
Grout Chat - Drunkard - Guys, Let's go on a night out. Playboy - Man, I was waiting for you to say that Bestie - I feel like i am dying. Finally someone revived the dead chat
Then, you start chatting with them, a huge smile etched on your face. A smile Lavi didn't want to be due to others. Only he should make you smile like that. You can smile only with him. And so on, the possessive thoughts went on....
You suddenly stood up due to which his body was forced out of your lap causing his mood to instantly change.
"The heck? Why did you do that?!" His expression of irritation is ignored by you, who was too busy finding clothes.
You start changing into a different pair of clothes. Very revealing clothes.
He was dumbfounded for a second before he also got up, excited to go out with you, excited for your first date or whatever humans call it.
After changing, you turn around to take a mirror pic and showed your dress to him, when you noticed his giddy smile.
Confused, you ask "Are you so happy to see me go out of the house or something?"
He looked at you, now he was the confused one as he declared,
"Cutie, aren't we going out together?" he asked before adding in,
"Didn't we already agree that you would always go out with me only??"
"Oh! nonono, there has been a misunderstanding here. I am going out with my friends for a night out, It's a friends thing and plus i thought i agreed to going out with you also and not you only"
In the blink of an eye, the mood changed. The room suddenly felt colder, your clothes too open and his stare too suspicious.
You didn't even realize you were holding your breath, your adrenaline, released due to your flight-or-fight instinct, already reaching every cell in your body already, until your notification sound pops. No, you were far too busy staring at those eyes, too fearful to break the eye contact.
You snapped your head at the direction of the nightstand, where your phone was kept.
But he forcefully held your jaw with one hand, snapping it back to re-establish the eye contact.
His nerves were popping out, eyes angry, pupils too small and his tail swinging wildy.
You tried to push away the hand on your jaw when he held your hand.
Now, the anger wasn't limited to his eyes only. It spread all over his face. His expression was terrifying you. He then declared, in a very deep voice,
"Going Out With 'Friends' Without Me?! Since When Were You Allowed To Do That?! Ha! Don't Make Me Laugh!"
______________________________________________________________
@meo-eiru(The image up there belong to her. I really admire, adore, worship, words are not enough! creators like these as they draw such good drawing with their imaginations! Like damnnnnn! and then there is me. A person who likes drawing but is a huge failure. (I swear, my human faces look like monkeys😂🤣😂🤣) Anyway, seeing the image, I had like a context for it. I don't know if this is good or not. My previous stories are trash because I, like, had no motivation to write but just wanted to. But this one fanart fired my imagination up and I just started writing.
Well, here we go again, with copying the text and pasting it. Lavi seems like the kind of character who acts cute and nice when you agree with him but the moment you are, like, opposing or simply disagreeing with him, he would get angry and very very scary. It is kind of similar to Silas but he won't get angry. He will just laugh freakily and like correct you with his alluring voice.
#yandere male#yandere darling#male yandere#yandere male x fem reader#male yandere x reader#yandere male oc#yandere male x you#yandere x reader#yandere male x reader#yandere boyfriend#yandere#yandere incubus x reader#yandere incubus#yandere lavi#lavi x reader#yandere lavi x reader
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so high school
satoru gojo x f!reader
**part of my gojo as taylor songs series
an: so sorry to the dream girl fans, had to expedite this one. taylor as gojo anon its your lucky day.
--
you were always under the impression that people like satoru gojo were perfect.
flawless even.
at times, you were even inclined to think that it was unfair; that some people were born with perfect looks, charming personalities, with intellect and intelligence to match. that they didn’t have to struggle.
though it seems at the current moment, you stood corrected. because the so-called rumors that you had heard about satoru – that he always participated in class, that the teachers loved him – they might have still stood true, but the underlying implication that was always insinuated, that he was naturally intelligent, wasn't.
it slightly cracked a sheen into the persona. you wondered if the girls in your english literature class would still giggle about him the way they did under their breaths if they knew. though knowing them, they probably would find some way to make his ineptness endearing.
“this is the quadratic formula. did you understand this one when we went over it in class?” you ask.
“yes.” satoru responds, seething.
“okay, so if that’s the case, can you solve this problem for me?” you ask.
you slide the paper over to satoru, eyes hopeful, as you watch a blank expression spread over his face. it’s something that he does often, or at least in this setting from what you can tell of the total of two hours that have passed.
the entire session seems to be a lot of talking into the air – with him opting to listen to you explain the question rather than try it on his own or admit where exactly it is that he needs help.
you’re not surprised that he has an ego about getting forced to do remedial tutoring.
“you know, listening to explain it over and over again won’t really help. you have to be able to struggle your way through the question on your own.” you respond.
satoru gives you a shrug, before taking the paper into his own hands.
“this is bullshit. and i get that i have to like know this shit because like…societies and shit before me knew it all but i don’t really understand the point. coach is just making me do this bullshit to keep me from playing more.
you pinch your lips into a line. the algebra teacher and basketball coach, masamichi yagi, had, in confidence, told you the exact opposite. that satoru was bright and talented – on the road to where he wanted to go – but his grades were going to hold him back if he didn’t try harder.
you can still hear his words in your head.
he can be tough to work with when he’s frustrated, but just try to get through to him. he’s smart enough to do this.
“i mean, the past societies and stuff learned it and emphasize passing it on because it’s actually really relevant to what you’re doing right now.” you respond.
“yeah, maybe for nerd shit that you do, but it’s not really relevant to where i want to go.” satoru responds.
you roll your eyes. he didn’t have to be irritating about it.
“and where’s that?” you ask.
and in a split second, you see satoru smile for the first time, this close. you weren’t a stranger to him at all – almost no one was with the way the basketball team's pictures were plastered all over the school in the yearbook – but you had never sat so close to him before, at least not in years.
he a dimple on the right side and three freckles on the left.
“i’m going to be a starting point guard on an nba basketball team.” satoru whispers.
“you want to go pro?” you ask.
“hell yeah. it’s all i’ve ever wanted since i was a kid.”
you smile. you had heard it before – that he was electric on the court – but you didn’t realize that it was serious enough to pursue a basketball career.
“i hate to break it to you, but the quadratic formula will be really useful to you in the future.” you respond.
satoru scoffs. you take the board from him, drawing out the trajectory of the line, as he explains.
“the reason that you use the quadratic formula is to find the solution of the equation. it can actually tell you more than you think – about where something needs to be in space, how fast it needs to move. if you’re standing all the way at the end of the basketball court, as far away from the net as possible, you’re not going to shoot right?” you ask.
“obviously not.” satoru responds, sarcastically.
“and you’re not going to try from right underneath the net?”
“not if i want to get my ass beat by coach.”
“so you know that you have to find the right spot to try from because it’ll give you your best possible shot at getting it into the basket. that’s how the equation works – figuring out the best possible spot to where your solution works.”
satoru rolls his eyes at you.
“so?”
“so. you should think about it like that. don’t make it so abstract because it’s honestly way too boring to try to do it that way. finding applications will help you get through how difficult it is. if you want to get scouted for division one basketball, you have to have good grades.”
satoru clicks his tongue in his cheek.
“do you want me to do the quadratic formula in my head every time i make a shot?”
you roll your eyes.
“obviously not. but you have to admit that something like that would be helpful. and it is helpful, for people who do engineering, fly planes, all of that type of stuff. the application will just make it more interesting or relevant for you.” you respond.
“how do you get through it?” he asks.
you pause.
“what?”
“your application or whatever. to make you do it without getting bored.”
you can feel your cheeks burn.
“i actually don’t have one. i was just making that up.”
satoru’s eyes widen.
“you gave me a whole inspirational lecture with shit you pulled out of your ass?” satoru asks, eyes incredulous.
you note that there’s a whisper of a smile on his face.
“part of the job is motivating students! and i don’t have one because what i want to do actually does have no application to this..” you respond.
satoru nods, before leaning forward on the desk, his cheek in the palm of his hand as he smiles.
“so what do you want to do?” he asks.
“what?”
“in the future. i’d love to hear whatever it is that doesn’t have a real life application to math, so i can use it as a backup plan if this whole basketball thing doesn’t work out.”
you glare at him.
“this is a tutoring session, not social hour.”
“oh come on. you’re no fun. i promise i’ll actually try if you tell me.” satoru responds.
you debate lying.
you debate lying because you know this is how he is, because you’ve seen him do this since the second he had his growth spurt in the sixth grade. tell different girls that they’re pretty, flatter them by asking them personal questions, and flirt like it was the air he breathed.
and it makes you mad – only because you were that girl in seventh grade. giggling to yourself about how he said your braids were pretty, asking about if you were going to the dance, and everything in between.
the only reason that the girls who whispered about him in your english literature class annoy you is because they remind you of yourself. though that stopped dead in his tracks when you realized that it was something that he did with everyone.
satoru’s eyes are expectant, waiting for an answer, and you convince yourself later that night that it’s why you gave in and told him what you’ve never told anyone before. not because he really was attractive and charming – but only because he told you his first.
“scout’s honor you won’t tell?” you ask.
satoru signals with the little cross over his heart, before giving you a nod.
“i want to be a singer.” you respond.
satoru’s eyes widen.
“you’d be great for that!”
“what?”
“oh, come on. you’ve been the lead of every musical since like freshman year. and i remember that song you wrote about cheerleaders or whatever in sixth grade, it was really good.”
you widen your eyes.
“you remember that?” you ask.
“what was it called? i just remember it was like cheer captain and bleachers or something like that. mei mei got really mad at the time because she thought you were talking about her.”
you laugh.
“it was called you belong with me. there was a lyric in it, she’s cheer captain and i’m on the bleachers. and she was right to be mad, because it was about her. i can’t even believe you remember that.” you respond.
satoru smirks.
“do you just think i’m some asshole? we’ve gone to the same school since preschool. i like to think we’re friends – that’s why i picked you to be my tutor.” satoru responds.
you didn’t know that part. you had figured that yaga had just reached out to you because you were one of the top students in the class.
“i don’t know. i didn’t realize you remembered all that! i kind of thought you didn’t even know my name.” you respond.
satoru smiles.
“your name is y/n. you used to wear pigtail braids in first grade with ribbons in them. you’re really smart and you always have been. you went to the dance in seventh grade with that robotics nerd nanami kento. and one time you picked me for heads up seven up in fourth grade.” satoru responds.
you feel your cheeks warm up.
at the heat of your infatuation with satoru, you had made your move in the only way that you knew how – by picking him in heads up seven up.
once in a while, you would get to play the game in class – when it was someone's birthday or you were waiting for an assembly to start. the teacher would pick seven students and the rest would put their heads down at their desks, with their thumbs up. the people who were selected got to pick anyone they wanted in the room and tap on their head. if the people who were tapped were able to guess who picked them correctly, they got to switch in.
you picked satoru. and he guessed correctly.
“kind of had a big fat crush on you after that, if i’m not going to lie.” satoru jokes.
“what? over the heads up seven up?”
satoru nods.
“you picked me out of a room of forty people. i was ready to propose marriage.” satoru jokes.
you snort.
“don’t say that. i totally would have said yes. i obviously picked you for a reason.”
satoru looks up at you, eyes wide in something you can’t really place, before he grins at you brightly.
“you bitch! we could have been childhood sweethearts at this point if you weren’t such a chicken.”
“me? you should have made a move. the ball was in your court after i tapped on you in heads up seven up.”
satoru sighs.
“oh ten year old satoru. dropping the ball as always.”
you roll your eyes, before sliding the worksheet back over to him. satoru groans, before sneaking the paper closer to him, and scratching his head as he looks at the paper. you lean over the tiniest bit of the desk, trying to make a mess of his scribbling, and making sure he’s on the right path.
“why’d you pick that one as c?” you ask.
“was i not supposed to?”
“i mean, no. i just wanted to figure out why so you don’t do it next time.”
it goes like that for the rest of the hour. he tends to make silly mistakes or get hopelessly lost in the middle, but answers one question correctly by the end of the session – which he takes as a win.
he says one thing that sticks in your mind before he leaves, with the same expectant eyes waiting for an answer as he hangs off of the door frame.
“y/n?”
“yeah?”
“when you become a big famous singer, will you invite me to your first show?” satoru asks.
you smile, before looking down at your hands and twisting the silver rings on your fingers.
“if that happens, sure. only if you invite me to the first game where you get to start.” you respond.
satoru grins brightly, his eyes crinkling in the smile.
“i'm betting on it. you and me.”
--
three months into tutoring – and a few ice cream cones and movies here and there – satoru invites you to go to a party with him.
“you know, i’m not really into the party scene, satoru.” you respond.
“but you’re into me, because i’m the love of your life, so you should come anyways.”
satoru does that often. flirt, make jokes about how the two of you are meant to be, and everything in between. troy and gabriella because you’re a brainiac and he’s an athlete. the best love story, since you’ve liked each other from the start.
but you know that he’s joking, because he does that with everyone. it doesn’t mean that it isn’t nice to pretend that it’s true sometimes.
“look, mei mei has a bunch of drinks that her dad bought for the party, so you should just come and let loose.”
you widen your eyes.
“you know mei mei hates me right?”
“it’s okay, being around her will give you more material to write for your songs. then you can sing it on your sold out world tour.” satoru jokes.
he also does that often. talk about your dream like it’s most certainly going to come true. talk about how he’s going to be front row, how you’re going to be the half-time show for his championship games, and how fans will adore your love story and humble backgrounds in tutoring.
“come on. i’ll pick you up at six, okay?”
at six pm, satoru honks the horn of his shitty honda civic for six minutes before you oblige and give in. and the party goes well – with satoru sticking by your side, introducing you to his best friend suguru, and making you do shots with cheap tequila.
it goes well until they start playing a mixed version of truth or dare and spin the bottle. you have two options when the bottle lands on you – kissing the person who span it or getting a truth or dare from them.
it’s not your idea of fun. because while you would have easily opted for just being asked truthful questions all night, you realize that the stuff that they ask and insinuate is no joke.
and after an hour, satoru kisses suguru – much to suguru’s dismay – and shoko gets dared to prank call her ex-girlfriend, utahime, which goes insanely horrible. it felt like intruding to listen to the two of them argue so openly on the phone.
when mei mei spins the bottle, it lands on you.
“please don’t try to kiss me.”
you pinch your lips in a line.
“i wasn’t planning on it. i’ll do truth.”
she breaths a dramatic sigh of relief. you shoot satoru a smile, who shakes it off as plain joking, before you swallow hard.
“fuck, marry, kill. satoru, suguru, and choso.”
you feel your eyes widen.
“was the game not kiss, marry, kill?” you respond.
“if we’re in the sixth grade.” mei mei responds.
you fidget with your fingers in your lap, all three of them expectantly looking at you, as you feel your voice shake.
“um. marry satoru. and then i guess…i’ll kill choso? and you know the last one.” you respond.
“and i thought we were friends.” choso responds, voice dripping with sarcasm as the group of them snicker.
“we can go do that right now, that’s not a problem. should we switch the game to seven minutes in heaven?” suguru responds, snickering over his shoulder with shoko who doesn’t entertain one second of his nonsense.
satoru is the only one who doesn’t say anything. and they move on just as fast, spinning the bottle over and over again, while you overthink what just happened – how awkward you were being, how satoru slightly shifted away from you on the hard carpet, and how you very desperately want to go home.
when you spin the bottle, you hope to god it doesn’t land on him. but it’s just your luck, because it points directly at suguru, who is now very smugly seated next to satoru.
“are you going to kiss me?” suguru asks.
you know that he’s joking. you know deep down that this is just something that makes them laugh, that deep down, you wouldn’t really have to if you didn’t want to, but that doesn’t make it any less embarrassing to be cornered like this.
“no.” you respond.
suguru feigns hurt.
“why not?”
you look down at your hands.
“i’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“i can fix that.” suguru responds.
you shake your head. and in the split second that passes, you can feel satoru’s hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you down the stairs and out the door, and leading you down the street to where he parked his car.
he’s quiet as he rummages in his pockets for his key, angrily yanking on the door, as you stand on the pavement.
“come on. we’re going home.” he responds, leaning his hands on the open door as he gestures for you to move to the passengers side.
you shake your head, feeling hot burning tears in your eyes, as you look at him.
“are you mad at me or something?” you ask.
“what?”
“i don’t know! i didn’t know what to say when mei mei asked me that. i don’t ever want to offend you or hurt your feelings or anything. and i wasn’t going to kiss your friend, you didn’t have to drag me out of there like that because i wasn’t even going to consider it.”
satoru sighs, leaning his cheek against the window, as he gives you a halfhearted smile.
“i’m not mad at you. or what you said.”
“okay, because i thought that was the best option! marry is objectively the option you save for the best person in the options because that’s the person you have to kiss too. like when you marry someone you obviously have to kiss them and you’re not going to kill them, so you save it for the best.” you respond, rambling.
satoru grins.
“you think i’m the best option?”
you groan.
“shut up. i don’t even know choso. and suguru is…suguru. no.”
satoru smiles, walking away from the open door, before reaching for your wrists and squeezing hard.
“i’m not mad at you. i just got…annoyed back there for a second.” satoru murmurs.
“at?”
satoru tries to stifle his sigh.
“i didn’t want suguru to kiss you.” satoru responds.
“that makes two of us, genius.” you respond, earning you a laugh from him.
“i wanted it to land on me. i know it’s just a game, but really. i wanted it to be me.” satoru murmurs.
you laugh.
“okay, satoru. truth or dare. i can give you one right now.” you respond, giving him a peachy smile as you wait for him to respond.
but he doesn’t. because all you see in the dim lamplight of the street is satoru, frowning at you. his eyes are expectant, but not waiting for an answer this time – but for you to understand what he was trying to say.
that he wanted you to kiss him.
it takes you five seconds. five seconds of bright blue eyes to get it.
“oh.” you respond.
you pause.
“really?” you whisper.
satoru shrugs. almost like he’s embarrassed.
you lift your hands, gesturing for him to wait right there, as you duck into the car from the door that he opened, and reach over the seats for the water bottle that you left in there a few days ago.
“fuck, ow.” you whisper.
“are you okay?” satoru asks, leaning closer to peek his head through the door.
“yeah. yeah. just looking for something.”
you find it underneath the seat – a wrinkled mess of plastic from the heat and three sips of lukewarm water left. you push out of the car, holding up the little bottle in between the two of you, to which satoru gives you a confused look.
“i wouldn’t drink that.” satoru responds.
you shake your head, before crouching to the ground, and placing the bottle on the ground. you gesture for satoru to join you, the two of you hunching over with your heads pressed together. and you reach forward and spin the bottle, only for it to point towards the car.
“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” you murmur.
you readjust the bottle, manually pointing it towards satoru, as you look back up at him and give him a smile.
“i don’t get it.” satoru responds.
“it landed on you.” you respond.
you watch satoru’s throat bob.
“what?” he whispers.
“i spun. it landed on you.” you respond.
you swear he’s blushing in the moonlight.
“y/n.”
“are you going to kiss me, satoru?” you whisper.
it’s a split second before satoru reaches forward, pulling you up by the wrists, and yanking you into the backseat of his car to do just that. you can taste the remnants of the cheap tequila on his lips, the feeling warm in your chest as he smiles – no, laughs – into the kiss.
in the seconds that pass, you lean your forehead against satoru’s, the two of you lightly panting as you catch your breaths – his hands warm on your waist and yours underneath his biceps.
“did you really pick me out of everyone to be your math tutor?” you whisper.
satoru laughs.
“i knew what i wanted. and i got her.” satoru whispers.
you get signed on to a record label a year later, two months before you graduate high school. it breaks your heart to leave him behind when the fall comes around.
--
four years later
“did the tour bus get stalled?” you ask.
yuki looks up from her clipboard, switching off the little knob on her earpiece, as she takes the open seat next to you.
“yeah. they’ve got it stuck inside the fencing outside the stadium, they’re just trying to push it through now.” yuki responds.
“can’t we just walk out to the car?” you ask.
yuki shakes her head again.
“fans go out the same way. if you want to avoid getting mobbed on the way out here, it’s best to wait.” yuki responds.
“if we have to wait, i’m just going to go lie down in the dressing room. come get me when it’s here?” you ask.
yuki gives you a nod as you walk off to the other side of the stadium, the heels of your feet aching from the high stiletto boots you were wearing breaking halfway through the performance, as you shake through the messy tresses of your hair.
“it was so nice to meet you, man. you said she was over this way?”
you feel your eyes widen as you turn your head to the left – to the voice that you can recognize anywhere – and feel a dry patch in your throat. at the sight of satoru, an obscenely tall version of satoru, standing three feet away from you, talking to one of the members of your crew.
you watch as satoru gives a polite smile and walks down the way towards your dressing room, already six whole paces in front of you from how long his legs are now, as you follow behind him, wiping away the darkness of smudged makeup under your eyes and brushing down the beads of your dress.
it can’t be him, can it? you desperately wished there was something else to wear besides the bedazzled bodysuit you were wearing currently.
you watch as satoru knocks on your door, expectantly waiting for a response at the door, as he wipes his hands against the sides of his pants. and you walk up right behind him, nervously clearing your throat, as he turns around and gives you a wide smile.
“ah. right, hi! i was just looking for you. my name is…”
“satoru.” you finish.
there was no way he thought you actually forgot him, did he?
satoru unclenches his shoulders, an immediate pang of relief spreading through his face, as he gives you a smile – a dimple on the right and three freckles on the left – as you feel a pang of hurt in your chest.
he looks good. he looks even better than you left him, his striking white hair longer than it was before and the smallest amount of wrinkles around his eyes.
“you remember.” satoru responds.
you bite on the inside of your cheek, to stop yourself from smiling at him fully.
“do you just think i’m some asshole? we’ve gone to the same school since preschool.” you respond.
satoru rolls his eyes at the words – the same ones he said years prior – as he crosses his hands over his chest. and you can’t help but contain your excitement and lean forward, a gesture he returns as you bury your face into the crook of his neck and squeeze hard.
“satoru, oh my fucking god. you should have told me you were coming.” you respond, leaning back as he reaches up to cup the side of your cheek and smile down at you.
“how could i?” he asks.
“you could text me. i have a phone.” you joke.
satoru gives you a smile.
“you know, when you change your number, that means i can’t text you.”
you groan, smacking your palm against your forehead.
“shit. i totally forgot. i was just so stressed out at the time because…”
“because someone leaked your phone number and people were calling you at every hour of the day. i know.”
you feel your chest pang, mainly at the fact that satoru was here – that he thought you forgot him and, in earnest, you really had forgotten him. that he was keeping tabs, that he knew everything that you were up to in the years since you separated – from your phone number getting leaked to the fact that you were performing tonight – and you couldn’t say the same.
you frown.
“right. i’m sorry, i meant to give it to you, i just…”
“were going through a lot at the time. first world tour, six grammy nominations, and some friends who weren’t the greatest, i gathered.”
you sigh.
“you don’t know the half of it.” you respond.
satoru shakes his head.
“i mean, i do. but i’d love to hear it from you, if…if you ever wanted to tell me?” satoru asks.
he has that same look in his eyes. timid, expectant eyes, shy and waiting for an answer.
“of course i would want to tell you.” you whisper.
satoru smiles.
“good. i’d love to hear it.” satoru responds.
it doesn’t feel real. it doesn’t feel real that four year ago satoru kissed you in the moonlight on a horribly paved street, that you had to leave him behind on that same cobblestone four years ago, and now he’s standing in front of you – the two of you the same as before, satoru the same, maybe even better, than the way you left him.
“what are you doing here, satoru?” you ask.
he smiles, before reaching into his pocket, and pulling out two little pieces of paper. he hands them over to you, as you read the fine print.
July 19th
San Francisco Golden State Warriors versus Los Angeles Lakers
“i’m the starting point guard for an nba basketball team. i promised you an invite to my first game.” he murmurs.
you press the tickets close to your chest, as you give him a nod.
“y/n. the tour bus is here!” yuki screams at the end of the hall, frantic hands waving you over, as you turn back to satoru with a pinched look.
he smiles in response.
“don’t worry. i’ll see you in a week.” he responds.
--
the week that follows is agonizing.
you scavenge every corner of the internet to find out everything about him known to the public. where he lives, what he’s been up to, what team he plays for.
he’s the starting point guard for the lakers, his hometown team for where he’s lived for the past four years. it seems that he had made his escape from the suburbs around the same time that you had, by playing division one basketball at the university of southern california, before getting a straight bid into the nba.
he’s the youngest starting point guard in history. he’s broken his own all time record multiple times and was one of the youngest people to get signed on with the league.
he likes to cook. suguru made his way onto the team with him. the two of them are a dynamic duo – famous for their hilarious interviews. he’s a father. he adopted two kids that lived in his neighborhood after their dad tragically passed away – megumi and tsumiki.
and most of all, he’s the same as you left him. because in every interview you watch, you hear the same thing.
“satoru, which artist is on your pregame playlist?”
“if you could go to any concert, which would it be?”
“who do you dream to collaborate with in the future?”
it’s the same answer every time.
y/n l/n, of course.
you can hear his voice in your head already.
i knew what i wanted. and i got her.
--
the stadium is an overstimulating amount of loud – something exacerbated by how nervous you are – as you walk down the steps to the court, stomach erupting into a nervous mess of butterflies.
satoru gifted you courtside seats to the opening game. and if he was going to follow suit like he always did, his kids would be sitting right next to you, dead center to watch him play.
you catch sight of his white tufts of hair at the center of the court, fans in the stands excitedly pointing at him practicing free throws with his teammates, and snapping pictures. you see a group of girls in his jersey giggling at the side, zooming in to take photos and loudly talking about how hot he looked when he pushed his hair back with a headband during the game.
girls on twitter loved the headband. it seemed that among most things, one thing never changed – how much people adored satoru.
as you get closer to the lights, you can tell that people notice your attendance, hushed whispers and pointed fingers at you as you make your way down to the waxed court, your shoes clicking on the wood, as you walk over to your seat.
you hope satoru doesn’t think it’s too forward that you decided to wear his jersey – with his last name spelled out on the back – as you take a seat.
you wipe your sweaty hands on the pleats of your white tennis skirt, fiddling with the beaded bracelet on your hands, as one of satoru’s teammates eyes widen at the sight of you, before they all but run over to smack him across the shoulder.
satoru looks over at you, giving you a soft smile, as he drops the ball and starts making strides over to where you’re sitting. you can feel your cheeks burning as you stand up, waiting for him to fully approach and he does the same thing he used to – wrapping his hands around your wrists as he leans forward, the smallest sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“i’d hug you, but i’m a little gross right now, brainiac.” he murmurs.
you shake your head.
“no problem. these are nice seats.”
he smiles.
“i’d let you bring a friend, but i had to save –”
“the other two tickets for your kids. megumi and tsumiki. they’re your neighbor's kids, who you adopted after their dad passed away.” you finish.
satoru widens his eyes, before poking his tongue in the side of his cheek, and giving you a grin.
“did your research, did you?”
you shrug.
“i did. but i’d love to hear about it, if you’ll tell me...” you respond.
satoru laughs.
“tsumiki is a really big fan. megumi doesn’t believe me when i said that you and i used to date, but he doesn’t believe anything i say anyways. they’re my favorite people in the world. and i love to make dad jokes.” satoru responds.
you smile. of course he does.
“i’m excited to meet them. i’ll give tsumiki a whole personal concert. signed cds or vinyls, whatever you want.” you state.
“i’d withhold that for now. i think she’s going to have a heart attack from excitement all at once when she realizes daddy is dating her idol.”
you feel like you’re in high school. you feel like it’s thursday after lunch and satoru’s walking you to class, making jokes about how the two of you are going to end up together. saying you’re troy and gabriella, about how no one will understand each other like you, about how you’re going to be at the halftime show performance at his championship game.
“one last thing.” satoru states.
“what’s that?”
he reaches into the pocket of his shorts, procuring a set of blue earplugs and placing them in the palm of your hand.
“i remember you hate how loud it can get. and this is going to be ten times worse than our shitty school gym, so wear these.” satoru states.
you can’t help but frown at the thoughtfulness, looking back up at the bright smile he’s giving you, before squeezing his hand. satoru leans forward and pinches the softness of your cheek, before running back to the center of the court and practicing with the team.
you can tell that some of them are jeering at him – giggling behind him as he shoots from different parts of the court, and you memorize the permanent smile that seems to be etched on to his face. suguru gives you a wave, before blowing you a kiss, which earns him a hard shove from satoru on the court.
--
two months later, the two of you follow the same routine. satoru travels around the country for his games. you do the same for your tours – and whenever the cities overlap, which coincidentally every week they almost do – the two of you get dinner, eat breakfast. he insists on sleeping on his couch so you can take his bed, but you convince him to stay and just share.
satoru says the overlap is fate. you tell him that he’s ridiculous. he says that it has to be fate – that you have to be meant to be, because you get back into it just as quickly as the two of you fell into it.
satoru tells you that he’s proud of you. your fans post videos of him at your shows – bright smiles on his face as he sings along to all of the words of your songs. you decide to surprise him at the third show he comes to, by singing his favorite song – you belong with me. you both joke about how mei mei is pissed wherever she is.
you tell satoru that you’re proud of him too. you watch every game courtside and really, are just in awe of him as you are when you were seventeen, blue paint splattered on your cheeks as you cheer him on – the muffled sounds of the crowd in your ears. you always carry three pairs of ear plugs, the extra two for megumi and tsumiki.
you think you love him. you think you always will. you realize that no one was ever going to have your heart like he did.
satoru has a home game in los angeles in late august. and his manager invites you to the afterparty two minutes away from the stadium, your transportation arranged with megumi and tsumiki.
you think they’re adorable. you think satoru is the best dad.
at a whopping seven years old, tsumiki reminds you of satoru. full of energy and light, she talks a hundred words per minute. the second you walk into the afterparty, you watch as she beelines to the big group of people, suguru quickly picking her up as she starts chattering loudly.
megumi’s the opposite. a little shy for his age, you swear that he squeezes your hand harder as you stand at the doorway of the crowded room. and true to satoru’s words – he really didn’t believe that you and satoru used to be friends, let alone date, but states that it must be because satoru did some black magic on you.
he makes jokes like that all the time.
“you okay?” you ask.
“yeah. have you seen my dad?” he asks.
you frown.
“no.”
megumi gives you a halfhearted sigh.
“okay.”
megumi gets nervous. the only people he feels comfortable around are satoru and tsumiki.
“you know, your dad never changes. he used to do this to me all the time too.” you state.
“do what?”
“drag me to parties. it’s not really my scene.”
megumi smiles.
“really?”
you nod.
“i wouldn’t even know most of the people there. one time he took me to the birthday party of a girl who literally hated me.”
megumi laughs.
“of course he did. some romantic he makes himself out to be. but really, i don’t care. i just hate waiting for tsumiki to come back.” megumi states.
you smile in response.
“well, how about we wait in the kitchen? there’ll be less people there.”
you tug megumi along to the kitchen, quickly lifting him to sit on the counter, as you rummage through the fridge – trying to catch your breath from whatever alternate universe you’re living in.
you’re in satoru’s house, with all of his friends. his kids seem to like you. he scored the most points out of the game, including the winning shot with six seconds left on the scoreboard. you have no idea where he is or what you’re doing right now or –
“hi.”
you slam the door shut, only to find suguru getou towering over you, with a smile on his face.
“hi.” you respond, reaching up to tuck the hair behind your ears as you take a step back.
“it’s been a long time, girl scout.”
you try to stifle your sigh.
“sure has been.” you respond.
“satoru’s really keen on hiding you away.”
you awkwardly nod, twisting the silver rings on your hands, as you give him a smile.
“we’re just getting to know each other, that's all.” you respond.
suguru widens his eyes.
“what is there to find out? you’ve known each other since you were toddlers.” suguru responds.
you shrug.
“i don’t know. a lot of time has passed.” you murmur.
suguru pinches his eyes shut, in frustration.
“you’d think that would make the two of you more eager.” he responds.
“what do you mean?”
“if it were me, if i felt the way the two of you obviously do, then i’d get a move on. i’d be unable to contain it.”
you glare.
“you don’t know how we feel. and there’s a lot on the line here.”
suguru crosses his arms over his chest.
“do you like him?” suguru asks.
“what?”
“because he loves you. basketball has always been his dream, but even more so when he realized that it would be a reason to talk to you again. he’s listened to all of your albums the second they came out, seen you perform every time you came around these parts, and cursed the hell out of every movie star asshole who has talked shit about you publicly or hurt your feelings.” suguru responds.
you sigh.
“i’ll ask you again. do you like him? because he. loves. you. you make him so nervous that he won’t make the first move, just like he wouldn’t when you were sixteen.”
“of course i do. i –”
“do i need to threaten to kiss you again?” suguru asks.
it’s right at that second that satoru parades into the kitchen and you can tell from the way that he yanks suguru back by the year that he only heard the very end of the conversation.
“that joke doesn’t get any funnier the fifth time you say it.” satoru seethes.
“get a move on before i do, dumbass.” suguru responds, giving satoru one last shove before walking off.
you don’t have time to think about his words, but one thought crosses your mind – that suguru might have been so insistent at that party all of those years ago, because he knew it would push something forward between the two of you.
he sure had a strange way of being a wingman.
at the sight of satoru, megumi’s holding his little hands out – something satoru obliges to as he picks him up – before turning over to face you.
“do you want me to kill him?” he asks.
you smile.
“i know he’s just kidding.” you respond.
satoru rolls his eyes.
“i was kind of hoping you would say yes.”
“did you used to date suguru too?” megumi asks.
you widen your eyes.
“absolutely not. just your dad, no one else.” you respond.
“god megumi, that’s not just something that you can ask someone.” tsumiki murmurs, padding into the kitchen with pink cheeks, as she wraps her arm around your leg.
you return the affection, reaching down to push her bangs away from her forehead, as you look back at satoru. he stares a little too long, before looking over at megumi and whispering.
“can you and tsumiki take a walk real quick?”
megumi gives him a nod as satoru sets him down, the two of them walking away hand in hand to the other side of the room, as satoru turns back to you, reaching forward to wrap his hands around your wrists.
“hey.” he whispers.
“hi.” you whisper back.
he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours.
“did you enjoy the game?”
“sure did. tsumiki and i shared rainbow airheads. and megumi gave me a really big hug after you won, which almost made me cry.” you respond.
“i’ll say. i almost cried when i saw all three of you hugging on the jumbotron.”
you lean forward, pressing yourself against his chest, as you link your arms together behind his back. you can hear suguru’s words racing through your mind – if it were me i wouldn’t be able to contain it, do you like him? because he loves you – and it makes your skin burn.
“hey. you okay?” satoru asks.
you say the only thing that you can think of.
“yeah. i’m just…really happy..” you whisper.
satoru pinches your cheek.
“me too.” he responds.
“ever since i left, my life has changed, so drastically, so quickly. i went from being a girl from a small suburb in new york to being someone that…that a lot of people knew about. wanted to know about. sometimes this stuff makes me feel like i’m not really that person anymore.”
you pause.
“but every time you look at me i can…i do feel like that again. like someone who was in high school, who hated school dances, and did the morning announcements. someone who loved you. who was with you.”
you sigh.
“no one’s ever had me like you. i don’t know if you’re joking when you say it, but it really is fate. you really are….are my soulmate or my invisible string or whatever. you…you’re it for me.”
satoru lets go of your wrists, before reaching for the closest cupboard and reaching for a bottle, and placing it flat on the floor. he’s crouching on his knees, your chest so full of love you can barely stomach it, as he gestures for you to crouch on the floor close to him, his cheeks pink in the light.
you watch as he spins the bottle, only for it to miss and land on the fridge.
“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...” satoru responds.
he reaches forward, twisting the bottle so it faces you, before looking at you expectantly. the same way he looked every other time – waiting for you to tell him what your dream job was, waiting for you to kiss him, and now waiting for you to confess for a second time.
“are you going to kiss me, y/n?”
you whisper it against his lips.
“guess what?”
“what?”
“i knew what i wanted. and i got him.”
--
an: our very first ttpd gojo as taylor <3 this post was sponsored by @yuutito, @neptuneblue, and @um-no-ok through my participation in fics for gaza! thank you so much for donating - I hope you liked the piece!!! i went a little bit over the promised wordcount as I started writing, but left it as is to be posted since we met the goal. a reminder that i'm still taking submissions for my wips (i'll be putting a new one up) and for requests!
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hehe i loved your short hinny fic!! it was soo great!! ❤️❤️❤️ can you please write another hinny fic, maybe hbp and include lots of yearning from harry 🙈🙈 whether that yearning is satisfied is completely up to you!!
thank you so much, anon, that's very kind ❤️ i managed to scramble something up based on your prompt, and had lots of fun doing it. i couldn't make hbp work, so i hope you don't mind i went with early dh instead. i hope you enjoy some angsty yearning courtesy of our very own hj potter!
***
Don’t look at her.
Harry repeats those words to himself like a mantra as he absent-mindedly stacks different kinds of desserts on his plate. The air under the marquee has become thicker now that several guests have stood up to dance, and Harry has started to feel very uncomfortable in Barny Weasley’s sweatier-than-normal body.
He grunts at the dessert selection available on the buffet table, wondering what kind of boring wedding does not serve treacle tart. But then again, he has never been to a wedding before, so what does he know, really.
He walks away in search of somewhere to sit down, carefully trying to shut down his peripheral vision, his gaze dutifully fixed right in front of him.
Don’t look at her.
Since after the ceremony, he has decided to avoid looking at the dance floor at all costs. He is convinced this is the safest way to keep his mind clear, without being distracted by stupid promises made to stupid best mates, or by the temptation to throttle big-headed Quidditch players - nobody in particular, of course.
He slouches in the first empty chair he finds, his eyes focused on his plate and the assortment of sweets he is never going to eat. He nervously starts drumming with his fingers on the table, while conversation and laughter bubble all around him.
He could take a look at the dancefloor, he reckons, just to check that Ron and Hermione have not started bickering. A quick peek won’t hurt anybody, right?
Do not. Look. At her.
Except that he cannot not look at her. He cannot help but make silly excuses to steal a glance at her every now and then; he cannot help but look for her in the colourful crowd. He cannot help but know exactly where she is under the marquee, even when he is talking to somebody else, when he is eating a bite, or when she is joining Luna in her extravagant dance.
Because Ginny is pure, burning light. He is drawn to her like a flower is drawn to the sun, and he does not know how to contain this dangerous feeling building up in his chest. It’s powerful, urgent, and it makes his heart ache like never before.
Defeated by his own sorry arse, he looks up and quickly scans the room, trying to convince himself that he is actually checking on Ron and Hermione. He is not fooling anyone, really.
It only takes him a split second to find her. Because this time she is not talking to somebody else, or eating a bite, or dancing with Luna. This time she is right there in front of him. No, she is actually walking towards him.
Oh bloody hell.
The room seems to blur around her, its noise and chaos fading to a hum as Harry helplessly watches her drawing closer and closer.
He wishes he had the strength to stop her, he really does. But there’s only so much that a man can do when the woman he loves walks towards him surrounded by that golden aura of light, so painfully beautiful, so painfully real.
And just like that, she sits in the empty chair right next to him. She doesn't say anything, yet he understands everything.
Silence has always been easy with Ginny. It has been easy for longer than he can remember.
He really should have known, the miserable prat. He should have known that love is a quiet, secret language shared through the simplest of glances. Love is moving together without speaking and understanding each other in a way that no one else ever could. He should have known that clammy hands, fumbling conversations and awkward silences over hot chocolate at Madam Puddifoot’s are an absolute pile of nothing compared to this.
And yet - he couldn’t have known, could he, that he would have found love in a hard, blazing gaze, in the sweet sound of laughter lingering in the air, in little elbows and butter dishes, in a gloriously setting sun. Maybe the realisation would not have struck him so hard, if he had. And maybe, with Ginny, he cannot have it in any other way.
He does not know for how long they remain sitting like that, a foot from each other, without uttering a single word. Their bodies are not remotely touching, and yet he feels engulfed by her, by her flowery scent, by her blazing and unwavering light. Their bodies are not even touching, and yet he feels her warmth everywhere on his body, under his skin, brushing his soul.
The other guests might think he looks like a miserable sod, stiffly glued to his chair just to be around her, just to drink her in for one more minute.
Or maybe they just think he is the weird cousin who creeps on younger girls at family functions. Whatever. He is not even sure he cares.
After all, she has not left yet. She is, too, sitting there on the edge of her chair, incapable of walking away. She stays, and that’s all that matters to him.
A sudden glint of yellow, and Harry notices Luna waving at Ginny from the crowd, calling her to the dance floor.
They both sigh. The spell of silent and blissful oblivion around them is broken once again.
‘I think I’m going to join Luna,’ Ginny says quietly.
He is so grateful, like a pathetic, smitten idiot, to hear her voice again. Even if what she says rips a hole through his heart.
When she finally does get up from her chair, it looks like she is wearing a weighted vest around her shoulders. He feels something breaking inside of him.
‘Oh.’ He chokes, clears his throat. ‘Yeah. Have fun.’
Her beautiful, sad eyes linger on him for a moment too long before she gives him a curt nod, and slowly walks away.
What a stupid thing to say, he tells himself. What a stupid, idiotic thing to say, when all he should have done instead was ask her, please stay. Please don’t go, please don’t leave me. I can’t bear to be away from you, I just can’t let you go. I’m sorry. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. I am so sorry.
A miserable man, he is. A miserable, miserable man who is about to go on a suicide mission but has to push away the only person who makes him feel truly invincible.
Would it be so bad to dive into the crowd, grab her hand, hold her close to his chest, and drown in that blissful oblivion again? Would it be so bad to kiss her soft, burning red lips, horrifying all the guests and the Weasleys together, hearing someone try and remedy the scandal by explaining that Oh but he’s not really a cousin, you know, more of a distant relative.
Maybe he really should go in there, ask her to run away with him and be just the two of them forever, forget about Dumbledore’s instructions, sod all this Chosen One nonsense. Choose his own happiness, just this once.
But then a silver lynx brings the news that the Ministry’s fallen and chaos unravels. He later ends up wondering to himself if those stupid, idiotic words will be the last ones he will ever say to her.
#hinny#harry x ginny#missing moment#deathly hallows#they'll get their happy ending#eventually#for now just let them be angsty#ginny weasley#harry potter
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