#Look at him. He's perfect in every way and there's no reason to dwell on this.

[thestarpalace]

Sometimes, when life's got you down, you just need to go relax with your best friend. (Feat. FinFin.)

Technically, a collaborative comic of sorts with Cam and I. We weren't sure who'd be best posting it, so I decided to take it on this time. It's also kinda, half-vent, half-fanart, half-system comic? …Truly, there's many halves at play here. More than usual, one might say.

[3rachaslut]

I would love to request gentle+ comfort sex with Chris where reader is upset and chris proceeds to love the sadness away?

bonus points if it includes daddy but you dont have too if you're not comfortable

are you KIDDING?! i have the biggest daddy kink ever hxvekwn hi twin! 🤍 also i feel like chan is such an amazing lover, like the way he would be so loving to you during sex omg it makes me cry :’(

also, take a shot each time you read the world beautiful xox

chan x female reader

contents: kinda angst but mainly smut. reader is going through some shit. pet names, daddy kink, fingering, domxsub kinda.

MINORS DNI !!!

you couldn’t really remember how long you had been feeling so drained, sat resting on the headboard of yours and chris’ bed, wiping away the endless tears that just kept pouring out of you. work was a lot right now and your self esteem was at an all time low. you usually tried to keep a handle on your emotions as best you could so you didn’t lose your head, but tonight, every thought spinning around your head left you feeling as if you were drowning. you were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts by chris calling your name, accompanied by a knock of the bedroom door. rapidly wiping the tears from your eyes, you try your best to throw a smile his way but there was no fooling him. as soon as he saw your red, puffy eyes and shaking hands, his heart sank.

“oh angel, what’s the matter” he gasps, quickly running to sit next to you on the bed. at his words, you couldn’t help but let out a staggered breath you didn’t realise you were holding. resting your tired head upon his shoulder, he wrapped his hand to cup your head against him, rubbing calming circles that eased the tension in your head slightly. “hey it’s okay, what’s happened?”

“chris.. i can’t do this.” you whine, ambiguity coating your sentence as you cling your arms around him.

“do what love? talk to me.” he pleas softly. you turn your head to look into his eyes and he plants a kiss on your forehead. “talk to me baby, i’m here for you. always.”

“it’s just everything. work is so stressful right now and no matter how well i do at a particular job, they always find some reason that im not good enough. i’m so busy with work that i haven’t had time to see my friends and family and you’re working so much more recently with your new comeback that i’m hardly seeing you and… i’m just… tired. i feel like no matter what i do, nothing is getting better. i feel like im stuck in limbo and i can’t see a way out of it.” you blurt out all at once, continuing on and on and all the while, chris is listening attentively to your words that are crushing him inside. his beautiful angel shouldn’t be feeling this way. he wanted to take all your pain away.

“anyway, i don’t really wanna dwell on it anymore. you’re back home and i haven’t really spent any time with you for ages” you tilt your head to look into his worried eyes and he smiles at you as best as he can. he is worried about you but he didn’t want to keep you talking about it if you didn’t want to as well. you would rant to him when you wanted to at another time if that’s what you needed. right now he knew that you needed a distraction. taking your cheek into his hand, he plants a kiss on your swollen lips in which you deepen. you’ve needed this for so long. you let out a relived sigh at his lips against yours once he pulls away and he rests his forehead against yours.

“my beautiful, beautiful girl” he whispers, causing goosebumps to form along the nape of your neck. you let out an unsure hum at his words. “you are, baby girl. absolutely stunning”

“i just.. don’t really feel like it right now. i mean, look at me. my hair is a mess and my eyes and face are all puffy-” chan interrupts by gripping your cheeks into his hands, making you look into his eyes. those gorgeous eyes you get lost in every time.

“baby.. you’re the most perfect, amazing, beautiful, sexiest girl i have ever seen” he says, tilting your chin back up to look at him, after looking down from shying away at his words of admiration. “look at me” and you do. your worries one by one beginning to float away just by looking at the man in front of you. your man in front of you.

“let me show you how beautiful you are baby girl. please. let me love your sadness away angel” he whispers out, slowly leaning over you and laying you down underneath him. you nod with a smile on your face. how could you ever refuse? he trails two fingers along the entirety of your upper half, starting at your left temple and all the way down to your waistband. your eyes flutter shut at the slightest touch that set fire to your skin. after years, he still had such an affect on you even with minimal touch. he hooks his finger around the hem of your pj shorts and pulls them down around your knees which you assist in discarding. continuing down your thigh, towards your knee and back again, shivers of anticipation took over you.

“i wish you could see how beautiful you look y/n. even more beautiful underneath me..” he teases as his delicate traces get closer and closer to your impatient pussy. you grind your hips upwards in response, now desperate for him to touch you and hum in aggravation when he moved his hand all together. he leans in toward your face and your breath hitches in your throat.

“baby..” chan hums warningly, raising an eyebrow at your gesture. “please…” you mewl out, your pussy throbbing at his dominant tone. “please what babe?”

“please… daddy” you utter and he instantly slides his fingers to rub your clit, your body jolting at the sudden touch. you let out a loud moan, your head tilts back and your eyes begin to roll back in bliss.

“good girl” he praises as he begins to suck marks against your now exposed neck. you begin to shake under him at the stimulation and he slowly trails his fingers towards your entrance. a staggered breath leaves your throat.

“look at me y/n. what do you say?”

“please daddy” you gasp out as he slowly inserts just the tip of his fingers into your wet cunt.

“please what?” he torments. “hmm?”

“please finger me daddy” you beg as he looks into your desperate eyes. you nearly scream out your last word as he shoves the entirety of his two fingers inside you, curling his fingers in just the right spot causing your legs to shake uncontrollably. moans were leaving your mouth relentlessly which only encouraged chris to go faster and faster. the sounds of your wet pussy filled the room and you couldn’t help but cover your face in embarrassment.

“don’t you dare hide that beautiful face from me y/n. fuck- love hearing the sounds your wet cunt makes for me doll” chan says, his voice slightly raised which only added to the arousal you were feeling. “fuck baby you’re so sexy”

“chri- daddy! i’m gonna come!” you nearly scream out as you feel the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone. your head is thrashing against the pillow and your hands desperately cling to the duvet under you. chan worked his fingers faster inside of you and your mouth gapes open. you look up to see his face only inches away from yours.

“then come baby girl” he whispers down you ear and you do. hard. your body contorts so much from your orgasm anyone else would think you needed an exorcism. screams and curses where flying from your mouth as you threw your head back towards the headboard.

“fuck- chri- daddy FUCK daddy ahh” you cry as you ride out your orgasm, attempting to catch your breath as you come down. chan plants kisses on your sweaty forehead and down towards the tip of your nose.

“don’t ever believe you are not the most beautiful woman in the world. at least in my eyes darling”

[specsthesecond]

❤️‍🔥

His molten tears fall down to your face but they don't burn.

He's wanted to touch you for so long. So many nights he's dreamt of this.

Your body under his, his fiery hands tracing the curves of your soft naked skin. His searing hot lips finally kissing yours, finally tasting you. Your own tears hiss into vapour as they streak down your cheeks, your sweat evaporating off your skin.

He knows he should be more cautious, neither of you actually know how well this fire resistant potion works but he's way too far gone now. He holds you so close as you get used to the strange feeling of his blazing skin touching you. You didn't expect it but under the deceptive wisps of flames covering him was a solid amalgamation of heat and you were touching it, you were touching him.

When he eases inside you, you both cry out your shared euphoria. His hot mouth can't seem to leave your skin, your hands can't leave his body. He bottoms out, hard sweltering cock deep inside you. The feeling is so strange but you have no time to dwell on it, his flame lights a fire inside you (literally and figuratively).

You look into his smoldering eyes, wiping away his tears as he sets a sensual pace. It's like he's trying to touch every part of you, like he'll never get to do it again and you can't help but share the sentiment. Your bodies mold together, so incompatible but it feels so perfect.

His fingers touch all the right spots, he's dreamed about exactly where he'd touch you in this moment. His blazing hot fingers rub your clit as his tongue scorches your throat. You cum together, he releases hot magma that has your walls clenching around him, begging for all of it. You wish you could keep him inside you forever.

You're crying again but for a different reason now. This has to end. The potion will wear off eventually and you'll be separated again. Now that you've had a taste how can you let go?

Your tears sizzle away when he gently cradles your cheeks in his hands. You squint through blurry wet eyes, his face says everything he can't say in that moment.

He'll never give up on you. He'll only let go temporarily for your safety but he won't rest until you find a way to be together like you're clearly meant to be, especially now that he's had a taste of you.

You'll find a way.

[dusterbishop]

have you come here to rescue me (all of this can be broken)

summary. || three timelines, you have watched remy lebeau die. you didn't believe you would earn a fourth chance to save him until you find a variant with no memory of his past, lost in a void of existence.

pairing. || gambit x f!reader (past relationship with current enemies-to-lovers)

count. || 2.7k

notes. || posted on ao3 here. warning for character death and violence. thank you for all the kind comments and likes! i'm happy i could share this with such a talented fandom.

part one. || part two.

You and Gambit meet before, eh?

Many times

Mais, pleasure’s mine, chér. Gambit’s never forgotten a beautiful woman

You draw your next card at random, and find yourself flat on your back, the back of your head still slick with the blood that pools beneath you. The hit from behind splintered your skull, but this body merely festers with a fading migraine. It is the closest you could get to avoiding death without skipping from this reality entirely. The pain has to keep you anchored, because you can’t count on Gambit to know what to do to keep you here.

Gambit, for his part, stares down at you. He looks like your Remy, which seems like such a strange thought to have. Of course he looks like Remy LeBeau. That is who he is in every lifetime. And yet it makes perfect sense that you halt upon this revelation for the very same reason.

Every Gambit is Remy LeBeau, and yet this one looks like Remy. He has the same strong jawline, the same furrow of his brow, the same black-rimmed red irises. He towers over you, the line of his shoulders set back and perplexed, at least until he crouches down to be closer to your level. Every movement is fluid, graceful. No sign of pain or hesitation. No snarl of distrust or blank expression of disinterest.

Found ya’, chér.

You would laugh if the back of your skull wasn’t just recently smashed in, new body or not. The daze of death’s lingering touch keeps you still as you stare back up at him. He had promised you would meet again, hadn’t he? In another lifetime, at least, he had. You are not the same body that he had been in love with, and yet some part of you can still smell the smoke in the air and feel the buzzing of kinetic lightning across your skin.

He is not your Remy. Not even if he’s looking at you with that same curious intensity. Gamblers could never refuse the call of the cards, and you have a stacked deck.

“Watch it, Cajun,” you tell him. Your voice is scratchy, grating the back of your throat. That explains the weariness in your joints, then. This version of your body is sick in some way. “I know how to wave a stick.”

A knowing laugh escapes him. “Oui, saw ya’ wit’ it. Don’ threaten Gambit wit’ a good time.”

Right, the flirting. Of all the swamp-dwelling boys you could have ended up entangled with, you just had to choose the one with that damned silver tongue. This version of Gambit is no different than the thousands of others you have witnessed in terms of that, at least. Perhaps thousands was even a conservative estimate. How many times have you crossed lives only to find a stranger wearing the face of the man you love?

God, you’re tired of it all. You don’t think you can handle another Gambit right now.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you sigh. “I’m not staying long.”

“S’il vous plait, you should.” He’s smiling, but you know that look in his eyes. Your gaze falls to the inner folds of his coat. You can barely make out the stitched lining where he keeps his cards, but you know that its there. He always had a habit of stitching the pockets in the same spot. Your Remy liked to command full control of the kitchen table to spread out his coat and ensure straight stitching. The cats liked it, too. You would come home to find them all clustered at the table, Remy idly scratching Oliver’s chin while he assessed his work, the other two boys stretched out languidly with them.

Gambit notices your attention, and his smile goes flat. “Where’ve you been my life, eh?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” you shoot back. The fatigue starts to settle deep in your bones. Maybe this body wasn’t sick when you borrowed it. Maybe this is just the effects of your time-skipping leeching over to another form. Your body feels like its burning a low-grade fever. “I don’t want to argue with you, Gambit.”

“Argue?” He looks almost offended at the mention of underlying tension. “Mon chér, you wound me. Dis is a civil conversation, non?”

“Don’t you get tired of talking?” You know he doesn’t. The two of you have spent so many hours sparring both in the danger room and verbally. He likes to make you take the backfoot in both fighting rings. At least, Remy did. This Gambit seems… off.

He almost seems familiar.

“Not when I’m talkin’ to you,” his smile edges with that coy charm. “Why don’ you tell Gambit about your travels?”

It feels like dunking your head beneath tumultuous ocean waves. Your gaze jolts to his eyes. His biggest tell had always been the way his pupils expand, consuming the ringed red of his irises. In some light, at some times, it almost looked as if he didn’t have irises at all. Just an all-consuming gaze of ink-black.

He looks that way, now, staring down at you. Black-eyed and smiling like a rogue, his elbows perched idly on the curve of his crouched knees, hands freely dangling between you. Unarmed, almost, if not for the weight of cards pressed against the cuff of his sleeves. That brand of stitching is new. Your Remy would have been absolutely delighted to see that sort of innovation as much as he would have groaned about not doing it himself.

“Ace up your sleeve,” you say instead. Your head is rattling with a desperate panic. How does he know that you can travel?

Gambit flicks his wrist, the air rushes, and a splayed set of cards stare back at you. Four of a kind. A handful of aces, in fact. Your Remy would be in absolute stitches over it.

“Some, oui,” he says. He looks just as pleased with himself. He always did like to be the smooth-talker. The air whirs with quiet trepidation, charging, turning metallic in the back of your mouth. One of his brows raises the same moment you half-raise your arm, reflecting the same suit of cards back to him. His fingers reluctantly slide closed on empty air.

“So do I,” you tell him. You hold steady when he goes to take them back from you and nearly yank your arm out of reach when his fingers close over your wrist instead. He’s wearing his gloves, but even the slight warmth of his skin pressed against yours makes your mouth go cotton-dry.

“Houdini,” he remarks.

“Not quite,” you whisper.

“Non,” he agrees. He studies your hand for a long moment. The cards are his, of course. You had shifted time just enough to reach across it and claim your prize. Nothing more than a parlor trick in the light of what you have done lately. What is a suit of cards in the face of endless, staggering realities? If you don’t like the way a restaurant cooks a dish, you can cross time until you find the same dish cooked to mind-numbing perfection. If you miss the city bus because it showed up three minutes early, you can change lifetimes to delay the driver by five minutes, the extra two minutes only for good measure.

If you lose one Remy LeBeau, why not venture out to find him again?

And again?

And again.

You know the answer, now. Maybe part of you always did, yes, but the answer is staring you in the face. You cannot ignore him any longer. You cannot skip timelines and pretend that there will never be a Remy like yours again. He was yours because he was not perfectly brought up as a child and ended up with some nine-to-five office job and a three-bedroom home with a white picket fence. That Remy does not have an interest in a strange paradox such as yourself. Neither does the Remy LeBeau that ends up being a schoolteacher, or a stay at home dad, or a volunteer at an animal shelter.

Your Remy was imperfect, and that was why he was the only version of himself that you could love.

This version of Remy LeBeau is still holding onto you. His grip is firm, but not bruising. He’s holding you fast to keep you with him, not to hurt you. You’re too tired to attempt to escape. Every muscle in your body feels leaden and overworked. That’s the other answer demanding your attention, but you let the revelation slip from its leash and ignore it.

“I know what you are, chér .” His grip doesn’t change, but there’s a dangerous riptide swelling in his tone. “What you do.”

“Wayfarer,” you say. It feels flimsy to say it like this, laying flat on your back, Gambit poised gracefully beside you. Remy had been rather nonplussed with the title when you first told him about it. Non, mon coeur, you are Wildcard. Not even Gambit knows your next move.  

“You travel, d’accord?” With the hand still holding you fast, he rubs the calloused pad of his thumb against the rapid flutter of your pulse. It’s nearly enough to make you flicker out of time itself, consequences be damned. His next words are a wistful purr. “You can leave.”

You aren’t sure why the surprise that lances through you hurts so much. Of course, he isn’t your Remy. You know this. He may smile and banter and touch you as kindly as Remy does — as he did, past tense, it’s all beyond your grasp now — but that does not make you something for him to cherish.

It does, however, make you something to use.

“I am always here,” you start, settling into this waltz slowly. This was the other part of your existence that used to confuse Remy. Some part of you hardly understood it, either. You don’t know how every part of a jet plane or automobile works either, though, so it doesn’t phase you much anymore. You had tried to explain it with the T.V. analogy, like your other versions were playing on different screens even if you aren’t tuned in, but that only served to confuse him more. He did enjoy your choice of explanation in some way, at least, by fully indulging in references from his favorite T.V. shows. The conversation had derailed into you hitting him with a pillow, and then you had both unraveled into a different sort of banter.

Not that Remy ever let you get the last word, though. Tuning the channel, he had said seriously, as you had writhed beneath his touch in a breathless rush. Smart-mouthed, smooth-talking swamp boy.

“Some part of me stays here. A variant,” you continue. Gambit waits, those slivered-red irises trained intently on your expressions. How strange to have him staring at you with such suspicion. You could never lie well to Remy LeBeau no matter the version you stumbled across. You could hold back, yes, but he would always know anyway. You have learned to stop hiding from him. It is inevitable that you will admit your life to him in some way, either by choice or by necessity.

“I am here,” you say. “Like I’m sitting in a coffee shop in Paris, reading the morning newspaper, playing the crossword. I can see the empty grid in my head. I know the clues.”

There’s a familiar furrow in Gambit’s brow. You’re suddenly glad he’s holding your hand before you end up surrendering to the urge to reach out and smooth it away. Not your Remy. A touch from you is not the sort he hungers for.

“Paris, eh?” He presses his thumb to your pulse. You wonder if he feels the leap in your heart beat at the touch. “Wha’s got you wandering da Void, then?”

“I didn’t choose to be here,” you admit. “I got… reset, I guess. My mind went to the next version of my body available.”

“Reset sounds awfully dire, I t’ink.” He gives you a pointed look. “Wha’s got you?”

For one long, awful moment, you almost tell him the terrible truth. You almost tell him that you went looking for a version of him that was familiar enough to soothe the gaping hole in your heart. That you found a Gambit that was witty and kind despite his shitty upbringing, one that liked to make you laugh and could keep up with the practice drills you still put yourself through. A Gambit that wasn’t afraid that you would one day vanish and be replaced by some version of yourself that he didn’t love.

You want to tell him that you found a Gambit that you had wanted to keep safe, and he was shot in the back trying to do the same for you. You tore yourself apart to take down the men that did it to him. You died with him and you still woke up within one breath and the next. You had to wake up and hear his voice, except this is not the Gambit that died because of you, this version does not know what he holds onto so tightly.

You want to tell him that three other versions of Remy LeBeau died just as terribly, and you just keep spinning the roulette wheel, and you just keep living.

“That version of me died,” you say. “Shot in the stomach.”

He’s looking at you as if he has never seen such a phenomenon. You suppose, technically, he hasn’t. He used to be one of the lucky ones that didn’t know you even existed. There goes that winner’s streak.

“Do’ya have t'die to… reset?”

You think about lying again. God, you wish you could. “Not always.”

He raises a brow at that, but you don’t offer to elaborate. Instead, you let the cards in your hand release from this reality with a soft whir of energy. Your head feels stuffed with cotton, or perhaps rocks. Maybe this is your mind finally burying itself alive in rebellion of your time-skipping antics.

“Tell ya what, chér.” His fingers loosen their grip on your wrist only to tangle with your own, intertwining your hands. Your breath catches. It’s the only split-second warning you have before he hauls you up to your feet, one hand entangled with yours, the other supporting the small of your back to keep you balanced. You have to shut your eyes against the vertigo that thunders in your head.

“Don’t die,” he continues. “Paris ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, hein? No reason to go dere.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” you grit out. You think you might throw up. Or pass out. Your free hand grips onto the lapel of Gambit’s coat hard enough for your fingers to grow stiff. His hand on your back is a solid, anchoring weight. It supports you more than you would like. Relying on him could be a dangerous game.

Still, your power is a raw, aching nerve burning through your veins. You couldn’t switch without tearing yourself apart, not as exhausted as you are. Considering that this Gambit hasn’t driven a knife into your back, either literal or figurative, it’s easier not to resist when he makes a soft hum and sweeps you into a bridal carry. You keep your eyes closed, and try to ignore the burn at the back of them. A part of you waits for his sound of pain, the impact of bullets thudding into his back. Another part wonders if he will be vaporized from existence by the TVA, just a second before your hands meet.

The third, quieter part of your mind just thinks: Remy.

Gambit, the fourth ace in your suit, doesn’t do any of those things. He adjusts your weight, testing to see if you will squirm out of his grasp, then he begins to walk. He’s strangely quiet. It’s almost a relief in the wake of your draining, familiar conversation. How many times will you have to reintroduce yourself to a Gambit? What could you possibly offer this fate-curious, battle-wary version of the man you love? It’s the sort of question that makes you reconsider your choice to stay.

Stay with a Gambit with ulterior motives, or move on to another life with no guarantee of who will meet you there? Well. When you put it like that, there’s no other option at all.

And, as if he can read your mind, Gambit begins to explain.

[worldlxvlys]

one choice

part 6 of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of sex, cursing

a/n -> hope u like <33

read the previous part for context !!

MATT’S POV

when my eyes fluttered open, i was immediately met with a pillow that wasn’t mine. i knew this pillow though, and those sheets.

i had forgotten where i was momentarily, until i looked over and saw her. her eyes were closed, lips parted slightly while she slept peacefully.

she looked angelic, the soft rays of the sun seeming to make her glow. she moved around in her sleep last night, leaving her barely covered by her blanket.

i couldn’t help but let my eyes wander her body, taking in every feature. her smooth skin was littered with dark marks all over, and the blanket left little to the imagination. before i knew it, i was hard again.

it took everything in me to fight the urge i had to take care of it right there next to her. what would she think if she woke up to me jerking myself off to her sleeping form?

oh my god, what was gonna happen when she woke up? she would want to talk about what this meant for us, but i couldn’t handle that.

what if this was a one time thing? what if she wanted nothing to do with me after this ? did i fuck up our friendship? i had to get out of there.

i got up quickly and quietly, careful not to make any noise while i got dressed. when i was done, i pulled her blanket over her so she was fully covered. i looked around for a pen and paper to leave her a note, as i didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

ok, she has nothing to write a note with. i’ll just leave her a text.

well i could have done that, if i had realized i completely forgot my phone in her room before i left. i didn’t make this realization, however, until i had gotten back home.

so not only did she think i was the type of guy to fuck and dip, but i also couldn’t avoid the conversation that i was running from in the first place.

it’s not that i never wanted to talk about it, i just wasn’t ready for our friendship to change yet.

was running away the best way to handle the situation? definitely not, but i only had so much time to decide what to do before she woke up.

so basically, my overthinking ended up screwing me over. doesn’t it always ?

what was wrong with me? this was the girl who made me feel safe and loved, and now i couldn’t even talk to her. how did i manage to fuck up this badly?

one choice. one choice stemming from my fantasy-filled thoughts is all it took. and the decision i made last night led to more poorly made choices. choices that i wouldn’t have made had my brain not been corrupted by her.

her face, her smell, those perfect little moans that fell off her lips, she had a way of making me ignore every logical thought that my brain produced. i was so desperate to finally have her in the way i’d only dreamed about for years.

now if i didn’t fix this, i wouldn’t have her in any way.

———

READER’S POV

when i woke up, matt was gone. the spot where he had slept next to me was cold, meaning he hadn’t been there for a while.

for a second, i questioned whether last night was even real. had i really fallen so deep into my delusions that i started to believe them? i found the thought to be worrisome, but i tried not to dwell on it as i got up and made my way to the bathroom.

when i caught a glimpse of the hickeys decorating my skin i felt relief wash over me. i wasn’t going crazy. just as quickly as it came, the relief was replaced with a new feeling; embarrassment.

i seriously let myself think that he would want something more. hell, he marked me like he did. but he didn’t treat me like i was his best friend, he treated me like i was a one night stand.

maybe he had a valid reason for leaving. i tried to talk myself out of the rabbit hole of assumptions i was about to go down, and picked up my phone.

once a few hours had passed without him returning my texts or calls, i knew. he was done with me, he had to be. why else would he just leave without warning and ghost me?

i should’ve know this was going to happen, people always leave me in the end. it just never occurred to me that matt could be just like everyone else.

——

MATT’S POV

when i got to her house, i let myself in using the key she had given me. “y/n?” i called her name, not receiving an answer.

i pulled out the ice cream i had bought her on the way to her place, putting it in the freezer for her.

when i got to her room, she happened to be fresh out of the shower. she wore nothing but a towel, her eyes widening when she saw me.

“matt?” she asked before rushing over to me, pulling me into a tight hug. the water droplets that coated her skin soaked into my t-shirt, but all i could focus on was the fact that she was in my arms.

i inhaled the scent of her fruity body wash, eyes falling shut as i rubbed her back soothingly.

she then pulled away, smacking me upside the head with her heavy hand. “don’t do that again matt, i thought i scared you off. i thought you hated me- i thought i lost my best friend”

i cupped her cheek gently, “i could never hate you, and i’m not going anywhere. i was just overwhelmed, but i shouldn’t have just left life that. i’m sorry, i was gonna leave a note, but then i couldn’t find anything to write with. and i was gonna text you but i left my phone here and-”

“matt, it’s ok. i’m just glad that you’re here now” she whispered. “but there’s nothing to be scared of, i mean- last night was just the heat of the moment, right? i mean, it had to be, why else would you leave like that” she whispered the last part to herself.

shit. this was the problem, i didn’t know what the night before was.

i didn’t know what i wanted, and i didn’t want to hurt her in the process of figuring it out. what i did know, was i wasn’t going to lose her because i got greedy. so, i decided i would figure it out later, but for now: “yeah, that’s all it was”

“so, we’re good?” she asked. “we’re good” i confirmed.

“good. then i’m gonna get dressed and then we can watch something?” she posed the last part of the sentence as a question.

“yeah, and i brought you ice cream” i told her, watching her face light up at the news. “wow, you thought you really messed up, huh?” she asked as she grabbed her clothes to change into.

“i did really mess up, but i won’t do anything like that again” i told her. she just smiled at that letting out a quick, “i know” before moving to go back into her bathroom.

“wait, you’re seriously going into another room to get changed? did you forget how we spent last night together?” i joked. admittedly, it was probably a little too soon to crack jokes like that.

“last night never happened” she spoke before closing the door.

shit, why did that sting a little?

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 1,542

Warnings | +18, smut dubcon(?), somnophilia, pussy worship, pussy eating, tongue fucking, fingering, male masturbation, Jungkook is desperately horny, cumming on her, body worship, breast/nipples worship, explicit language and descriptions, kidnapping, Jungkook is absolutely obsessed, this is not for minors.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | Third chapter of Happy Ending arrived, enjoy your reading, my dears 🥰❤

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

That same night, a shadow wandered around the young woman's apartment. It had not been difficult to get there, as he had already thought, those windows were too old and easy to force, he could not allow Y/N to live in such a place. If a novice like him had managed to open the window facing the kitchen so quickly, then an experienced thief would have been able to do even better. He looked around, scrutinizing every nook and cranny, being very careful not to make any noise, noticed a pizza box on the table, with Coke cans scattered around, was very careful not to step on a single one - mentally cursing at the girl's mess - and headed for what he guessed was her room.

He opened the door slightly, which squeaked faintly because of rust, but that was not enough to wake the girl who lived in the apartment. Y/N must have been a very heavy sleeper, the boy thought. Jungkook was there for one simple reason, to take Y/N away and make her live a better life with him. Normally an art professor would not have made that much money, but professor was not his only job, he thought with a grin. The school's principal, Kim Seokjin, had his hands in everything, and someone like Jungkook was right for him. He then looked around, studying the environment to get an idea about his beloved's tastes, finding a variety of references to anime and manga, as well as books and flowers. Nothing that hinted at a passion for fashion, but of that Jungkook did not worry, he would see to it that she was dressed cute and perfect, just for the pleasure of his eyes.

Reaching just to one side of the single bed, he stared at Y/N sleeping blissfully with only part of the blanket to give her warmth, the tender lower lip protruded invitingly and Jungkook felt the urge to squeeze it between his teeth, tasting its softness. He shivered slightly when he took a flap of the blanket, pulling it aside. He slowly uncovered Y/N's body, revealing something that made the man's brain go haywire. Y/N slept in only a tank top and panties even in winter. It was a comfortable habit for the girl, but for Jungkook it was like a wedding invitation, literally. His eyes did not break away from the bare skin in the slightest while enough light filtered through the window to make that vision heavenly for him.

He slowly knelt down, a hand flew within inches of her calves, he did not know whether to touch her that way or not, she was not conscious, it would not be right, would it? The boy found himself gritting his teeth, it would only be a caress, a gentle caress. He gently laid his fingers on one calf, held his breath at the smooth sensation of her skin against his fingertips and continued with the slow ascent, felt his lips dry up when, having reached her knee, Y/N decided of her own volition to spread her leg wide, leaving a wide view of her intimacy covered by the blue panties, at which point Jungkook's blood concentrated in one spot. He took that sign as a Y/N response to continue. He climbed onto the bed gently, positioning himself right on top of the young woman, his hand opening on her inner thigh, the softest and most tender part of her leg, felt that buttery texture under his fingers and did the same with the other, thus bringing both legs apart for him, he sent down watering at that scene so erotic that it nearly drove him mad.

He felt powerful as never before in his life, he could do anything he wanted to her and she would continue to sleep blissfully. The young girl's tightly closed eyelids cast lash shadows across her cheeks, she was so serene in sleep that Jungkook found her enchanting, so much so that he leaned over her, stealing a sweet kiss on her cheek, in love with that pure little fairy of his. His. He watched for a possible reaction, but she continued to sleep. Not content, he descended lower, to the tender breasts enclosed in that wide camisole, lifted the pale fabric finding himself face to face with what, he knew, would become his favorite damnation, studied with hungry eyes the perfect color of those still soft and relaxed little buttons, barely touching with a finger the velvety, graceful circle of an areola. He trapped the tender nipple with his lips, sucking it tenderly inside his warm, moist mouth, felt it plump under the strokes of his tongue and found himself nibbling on it without too much pressure, sending small, sweet twinges to the young girl's sleeping body. Y/N, for her part, turned her head slightly, opening her mouth slightly in a moan that her brain could not fully register.

Jungkook cupped the other breast, stimulating it with the tip of a finger, squeezing it lightly before devoting his mouth to it as well, and the more he engulfed that tender flesh, the more his cock throbbed uninterruptedly in search of its dose of forbidden caresses. A pop resounded from the room as he let go of his grip on the young girl's now abused nipple, went down with moist kisses all along the girl's chest, with his sweet prey's breathing rising in response, thus reaching the lower abdomen licking a small trail around her navel, moaning silently at the taste of that skin that he would also have gladly bitten into, but he could not risk waking the girl up in the midst of his fun, so he merely descended lower and lower, reaching to the fabric of her panties. With the tip of his nose he pressed against her covered pussy, ecstatically inhaling the natural scent of her essence, he felt himself salivating and his own boxers got a little wet, he pressed his erection against the mattress moving slightly to give himself some relief, not satisfied he peeled back the fabric of the panties and almost thought he would come there on the spot. The rosy flesh of the folds opened under the pressure of his index finger, revealing the swollen clitoris and the sweet slit from which sweet transparent liquid was already leaking.

Jungkook gave a long lick that from the young woman's narrow entrance reached up to her clitoris, encircling it with the tip in a tender and insistent caress; on another occasion the boy would have cried out in the most bewitching pleasure, but he forced himself to enjoy that taste in silence. Y/N unknowingly thrust his hips into the man's ravenous mouth in a soft, slow rhythm that delighted Jungkook. That to him was the ultimate proof that the girl accepted his intimate attentions without regret. He used two fingers to stimulate the young woman's lit and pulsating clitoris, continuing with the tip of his tongue to penetrate the tight and wet slit, sucking the small quivering lips together with the unconscious girl's legs, continuing to poke and pull at that pearl now stiff and ready to explode between his index finger and thumb, teasing the soft flesh ever more insistently. "Mm... Ah...!" the girl's back arched slightly, exposing more and more of her intimacy to the boy, her body tried to keep up with that forbidden pleasure, in her mind Y/N was dreaming, dreaming of Jungkook and in her dream the boy was doing to her just what the real Jungkook was joyfully enacting in reality.

He willingly swallowed the young girl's fluids with yet another tongue caress, then replaced his fingers with the latter, cradling the pulsating clitoris in velvety lashings, penetrating the now-soaked entrance with his fingertips, the girl rigidly propped her feet up on the mattress, opening her mouth wide and frowning in a shrill howl, which was prolonged when her clitoris succumbed to extreme pleasure following a light bite from the boy, his teeth weakly crushing that taut pearl, now at the 'extreme and that gesture was enough to release its violent contained pleasure. Jungkook detached himself from Y/N's quivering body, lowering his pants and boxer shorts, took his already dripping cum cock in his hand and leaned over Y/N beginning to pump himself several times, ran his thumb over the scarlet tip increasing the speed of his thrusts, before pouring out a large amount of cum with a choked cry, smearing the girl's breasts and panties with the sticky white liquid. He looked at his work of art with devotion and affection, stroking his cock in an attempt not to let up again on those gentle discharges of pleasure, until it became completely soft again. He adjusted his clothes, retrieving tissues from the girl's bedside table to wipe off his semen, silently praying that the sweet, spicy taste of Y/N would never disappear from his tongue.

God, he would have taken her again and again on that bed, but he shook his head to himself , Y/N deserved better and wanted her awake when it happened. He wanted her to see with her own eyes how much love he would be able to give her.

[jetii]

Too Sweet

Part One | Part Three | Part Four

Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Doctor!Reader

Words: 6,162/26,525

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, strangers to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, Fox is a little anxious/paranoid, and he needs a hug, lots of awkward flirting in this part, smut in part 4

Summary: Fox has no time for romance. He doesn't even have time for sleep, let alone dates. But when a horrible day at work leads him to you, he suddenly finds himself in danger of reevaluating his priorities.

A/N: Okay, I think I have the rest of this fic pretty much set, except for the final edits to the smut. Part 3 will be up on Wednesday and part 4 next Sunday!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

A week passes, and the wound in his shoulder heals without any complications. There's no need to see you again, and Fox is relieved. The more time that passes, the easier it is to forget about the interaction, and he soon manages to put it out of his mind entirely. He’s far too busy to dwell on things that don’t matter, and he has better things to focus on.

He still thinks about you, though.

It’s hard not to. He passes GMF every day, and sometimes he finds himself staring at the building wondering if you're working. You'd seemed to enjoy your job, and he finds himself hoping that you're doing okay. But then he reminds himself that it's none of his business, and he walks away.

Another week goes by, and the stitches dissolve, leaving nothing but a faint scar. Fox isn't sure how to feel about it. It's not the first scar he's gotten, and he doubts it'll be the last, but for some reason, he can't stop looking at it. It's strange. The wound was minor, and the injury is no longer bothering him, but there's something about the scar that intrigues him.

He doesn't like it.

It's a reminder of his failure, and the fact that he had been injured by a common criminal. It was embarrassing, and the fact that he still remembers your smile only makes it worse. It shouldn't have happened, and he was supposed to be better than that. He was supposed to be the best, and a scratch like this should have never occurred.

He spends his days obsessing over the incident, trying to figure out where he went wrong. There had to be a way to avoid a repeat performance, and he's determined to find it. The new security system has arrived, and he throws himself into his work, spending hours studying the plans and the documentation. He ignores his brothers' concerns and pushes himself harder than ever before, refusing to accept anything less than perfection.

After a week, he's finally satisfied, and he announces the changes to the Senate guards. He receives several confused looks, but no one questions his orders. He's the commander, after all, and if he wants things a certain way, that's the way they're going to be. It doesn't matter what the others think, as long as the job gets done.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?" Fox asks, looking up from his datapad to find Thorn standing in the doorway, a scowl on his face.

"Don't give me that."

"What's the problem?"

"The problem is you," Thorn says, pointing at him. "You've turned the Senate building into a fortress."

"So?"

"You've doubled the number of guard patrols," Thorn continues. "We've already had to reroute half the traffic, and people are getting mad. You can't just keep making these changes without talking to us first."

"It's my job," Fox says, his voice cold. "And you're not in charge, I am."

"Don't pull rank on me," Thorn snaps.

"Then don't question my decisions."

Thorn glares at him, his expression hard. He's clearly angry, but Fox doesn't care. He's doing his job, and his brother doesn't have the right to tell him how to do it. He's the one who has to answer for the safety of the Chancellor, and he's not about to let Thorn interfere.

"What's gotten into you?" he asks, his shoulders dropping, and the anger in his voice is tempered by concern. "You're acting weird."

"I'm not," Fox says, frowning.

"You are," Thorn insists. He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. "I know we don't see eye-to-eye all the time, but something's up with you."

"There's nothing wrong," Fox says, his tone flat. He looks back down at the datapad, hoping that Thorn will take the hint and leave. There’s already a new message from the Chancellor, and he wants to get started on his report.

"You've been acting weird ever since that incident," Thorn says.

"What incident?" Fox asks, not looking up.

"The knife attack.”

"There were lots of knife attacks," Fox says, his voice flat. "You're going to have to be more specific."

“The one where you got stabbed, di’kut. It was two weeks ago, remember? When we had to go to GMF—“ Thorn stops abruptly, his eyes widening.

"What?" Fox snaps. He doesn't like the look on Thorn's face. It's the same expression he gets when he's solved a case, and it never means anything good. "What is it?"

"I just realized something."

"Realized what?" Fox asks, his patience running thin. He's tired and hungry, and the last thing he wants to deal with is another of Thorn's conspiracy theories.

"Why didn't I think of this sooner?" Thorn says, ignoring him, and he chuckles to himself. He walks over to the window and looks out, his expression thoughtful. "It's so obvious."

"Thorn—"

“This is about the doctor, isn’t it?”

Fox stiffens, and he stares at Thorn, his mouth falling open. He hadn't expected his brother to be so blunt, and the question catches him off guard.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb," Thorn says, giving him a look. "You've been obsessed with that incident ever since it happened, and I know for a fact that you've been avoiding the medical center."

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have," Thorn counters. "I've seen you turn around three times when we've walked past it, and you keep finding excuses not to go there."

"I'm not avoiding anything," Fox grumbles. He knows that Thorn isn't going to drop the subject until he answers, and he lets out a sigh, setting down his datapad. "It's not about the doctor. It's about the injury."

"I don't buy it."

"You don't have to."

"Fine," Thorn says, crossing his arms. He looks at Fox for a moment, his gaze scrutinizing, and then lets out a breath. "But for the record, I think you're being an idiot."

"So you've said."

"Yeah, well, maybe you'll listen this time."

"I doubt it," Fox mutters, and he picks up the datapad again. The screen is blank, and he taps at the controls, trying to remember where he'd left off.

"Why are you so set on torturing yourself?" Thorn asks. His voice is quiet, and the question takes Fox by surprise. He looks up at his brother, frowning, and he sees that Thorn is watching him with a worried expression. "You can't keep going like this, Fox."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Thorn says. He walks over to the desk and sits down in the chair across from Fox, his elbows resting on the surface. "You're working yourself to death, and it's not going to make a difference."

"It will," Fox insists. "If we can—"

"It won't," Thorn interrupts. "I know you're worried about the Chancellor, but he's not going to disappear overnight. He's not in any more danger now than he was a week ago."

"We can't afford to let our guard down," Fox says, his voice strained. "You know that."

"I do." Thorn nods. "But you can't keep going like this. At least take a break. Go to a bar. Relax."

"There's too much work to do."

"I'll cover for you."

Fox sighs and looks down at the datapad again, the words blurring together. He can't focus, and the report isn't going to get done anytime soon. Thorn is right, as much as he hates to admit it. He's been working too hard, and it's starting to take a toll. But the thought of stopping makes his chest tighten, and he feels a surge of anxiety. If he stops, what's going to happen? What if something goes wrong, and he's not there to stop it? What if—

"Fox."

"Yeah," he says, letting out a shaky breath.

"Just take the rest of the night off." Thorn leans forward and gently pries the datapad from Fox's fingers. "You need to rest."

"Fine," Fox says, and he feels his shoulders slump.

"Good."

"But not a word of this to the others," he warns.

"I won't." Thorn smirks and stands up, walking over to the door. "Just promise me you'll try and have a little fun, okay? No matter how boring you think it is."

"Yeah, yeah."

Thorn leaves, and Fox lets out a sigh, sinking into his chair. He rests his head in his hands, rubbing his temples, and closes his eyes. The darkness is soothing, and he lets out a slow breath, trying to calm his nerves.

He's been feeling off for a while now, and the conversation with Thorn had only made things worse. The stress is starting to get to him, and he knows that he needs a break. But the thought of stepping away from the office, even for a moment, fills him with a sense of dread. He's afraid that something will happen, and he'll be too far away to stop it. But deep down, he knows that Thorn is right. He can't keep going like this. Something's got to give.

Fox’s stomach growls, painfully reminding him that he hasn't eaten all day. The sound snaps him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, blinking. He's been sitting here for hours, and the sun has gone down. It's late, and his body is screaming for food and sleep.

He stands up and stretches, his back popping, and heads for the door. The mess hall at the barracks has long since closed, and his stomach grumbles again, louder this time. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, wondering if there's a ration bar left in his locker. Probably not. Maybe if he takes a walk, he can find something. There's bound to be a 24-hour café open somewhere, and if he’s lucky, they'll have something edible. He hasn't eaten actual food in weeks, and the thought of having something hot and fresh is almost too tempting to resist.

He steps out of his office and makes his way down the corridor, passing the rows of empty desks and abandoned terminals. Thorn’s office light is still on, and when Fox passes by, his brother gives him a thumbs up and a smile. Fox rolls his eyes, and he keeps walking, his feet carrying him down the stairs and towards the exit.

The night air is cool and refreshing, and he takes a deep breath, letting the chill seep into his bones. The streetlights are on, and the traffic has thinned, but the city is still bustling with activity. People are milling about, and he can see a few clusters of troopers on patrol. It's a familiar sight, and it brings him some comfort. At least here, he knows what to expect.

He walks for a few blocks, keeping his head down and his eyes forward. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, and the last thing he needs is another confrontation with a citizen. He's tired, and the thought of having to explain himself is enough to make him cringe. It's better to just avoid it altogether.

Fox rounds a corner and pauses, his eyes scanning the crowd. There's a small diner tucked away between two buildings, and the smell of spices wafts out from the doorway. His stomach growls again, and he walks towards the entrance, pushing the doors open.

The diner is small and cozy, and there's only a handful of people inside. They're scattered throughout the room, and most are seated at the counter, chatting with the droid serving them. Fox takes a seat near the door, as far away from the other customers as possible, and pulls off his helmet. His hair is sticking up, and he quickly runs his fingers through it, trying to smooth it down. He's not sure why, but he suddenly feels self-conscious, and the feeling unsettles him. He's usually more composed, but today has been rough, and he doesn't want anyone to see him like this.

He orders a cup of caf, and as soon as it’s placed in front of him, he downs it in a single gulp. It's strong and bitter, and the warmth spreads through his chest, calming him. The exhaustion is still there, but at least the headache was starting to fade. He orders a second cup, and he sips it slowly, letting the steam warm his face as he turns his attention to the menu. 

Most of the dishes listed are foreign to him, and he’s so absorbed in trying to decipher the strange names that he doesn't notice someone settling one stool over from him. The smell of lavender is subtle, but unmistakable, and a flash of white has him turning his head before he can stop himself.

It’s you.

Fox nearly inhales his caf, and you look up from your datapad, startled.

"Commander?" You blink a few times, seemingly as surprised to see him as he was to see you. The surprise on your face quickly morphs into concern, and you frown. "Is everything alright?”

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Fox says, taking another sip of caf to cover up his embarrassment.

"Are you sure? You look a bit...frazzled," you say, eyeing his hair.

He winces, and his free hand shoots up to smooth down his unruly curls again. Your gaze follows his movements, and then you smile, and the sight is like a punch to the gut.

"Just a long day," Fox mutters, glancing away. He stares down at his cup, tracing the rim with a gloved finger, and tries not to think about the way his heart is hammering in his chest. He can’t believe that of all the places in the city, you’re here, and the realization that you'd seen him make a fool of himself again has him wishing the floor would swallow him whole.

"I understand that," you say. Your smile fades, and you let out a sigh, tapping the datapad. "Unfortunately."

He glances over, curious, and sees that the screen is filled with rows of data. There are charts and graphs, and what appears to be an inventory list. It doesn't look like anything fun, and the thought that you might have a stressful job, too, intrigues him.

“What brings you out this late?” he asks.

You look at him, your eyebrows raised. For a moment, he worries that he's overstepped, but then you smile, and his worry melts away.

"Same as you, I suppose," you say, and he can hear the exhaustion in your voice. You sigh and set down your datapad. “My shift doesn’t end until 0400, but I needed a break from the medical wing. Sometimes, the smell of bacta gets to me."

Against his will, a laugh bubbles up from his chest. It’s short and rough, like gravel under his boots, but he can’t help it. He tries to cover it up by taking another sip of his caf, but you don't seem offended, and when he looks at you again, you're smiling.

"I hear that," Fox says, his lips twitching. "Something about it just..." He shudders, the thought of the thick, gel-like substance making him gag.

"Exactly," you say, nodding. "It's like melting plastic."

"Or glue," Fox says. He pauses for a moment, his brows furrowing, and he shakes his head. "Actually, maybe it is glue."

You laugh, and the sound is so bright and clear that it startles him. He didn’t think he was capable of making anyone laugh, and the fact that he had made you do so twice is baffling.

"Oh, stars, don't remind me.” Your nose scrunches up, and you let out a soft groan. "I can't tell you how many times I've had to peel my scrubs off and throw them away after a long day."

"I can only imagine," Fox muses, trying to picture you without the scrubs. His mind goes to a place h didn’t expect, and his cheeks heat up. He looks away, suddenly fascinated by the pattern on the countertop.

"I suppose it’s not so bad," you continue, oblivious to his distress. You tap your fingers on the counter, and then turn towards him. "You know, I heard a rumor that you were afraid of medics."

"I am not," Fox scoffs, frowning. He looks at you, and your expression is serious, but there's a twinkle in your eyes that tells him you're not entirely sincere. "I just have a healthy respect for those who can take me apart and put me back together again.”

"A healthy respect," you echo, grinning.

"Yes."

"Is that why you ran out of GMF like you were being chased by a Nexu the other day?" you ask, and there's a teasing note in your voice that makes his stomach flip.

"No," he mutters, looking away. 

He can feel his face burning, and his embarrassment is only making it worse. You'd noticed. Of course you had. And the fact that you'd actually thought about it, that you'd cared enough to bring it up, is both flattering and mortifying. He'd been hoping that you would just forget the entire incident, but apparently, you were more perceptive than he'd realized.

"Right," you chuckle. "Well, you're braver than most, I'll give you that. Most troopers don't set foot in the med center unless they're dragged there by their brothers."

He can't help but chuckle a little at that. If only you knew how close to the truth you were.

"So, if you're not afraid, do you mind if I join you?” you ask, gesturing toward the empty seat between you. “I promise not to dissect you, Commander."

Fox hesitates, his stomach clenching. You're asking to sit next to him. Why? It doesn't make any sense, and he's not sure what to say. It's a simple question, but it feels like there's a hidden meaning behind it, and he can't figure out what it is. But, the hopeful look on your face and the inexplicable need to please you is making it hard for him to say no.

You must mistake his silence for refusal, because your smile fades, and you pull back a little.

"It's okay if you don't want to," you say, and your tone is apologetic. "I just figured, since we're both here..."

"No, no, I'd like that," Fox says quickly, scooping up his helmet and setting it on the counter beside him. He gives you a small smile, and you beam back at him.

"Great!"

You stand and move to the seat between you, and Fox finds himself leaning back a little, not wanting to be too close. But when you settle into the stool, the scent of lavender is stronger, and he relaxes, allowing himself to enjoy it.

"I thought maybe I was bothering you," you admit.

"You’re not," Fox says, and he means it. Your presence is actually calming, and he feels the tension in his shoulders ease a little. He takes a deep breath, savoring the smell, and then realizes what he's doing and quickly stops. He picks up the menu and studies it intently, trying to distract himself.

You don't say anything, and he can feel you watching him. It's unnerving, but the feeling isn't entirely unpleasant, and he allows himself a few more seconds before he looks up at you again. When he does, you quickly turn away, a light flush dusting your cheeks. It's oddly endearing, and Fox has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

The waitress droid returns and pours you a cup of caf before refilling his. You thank her as she leaves, and you pick up the cup, taking a sip. You let out a sigh, and your eyes close, a satisfied smile forming on your lips.

"This is perfect," you murmur, taking another sip. "I needed this."

"It's a necessity in my line of work," he says, his tone dry. "I'd be dead without it."

"You're telling me," you say, smiling at him, and you rest your chin on your hand. "I had to get three cups before my shift started just to feel human again."

"Three?"

"Don't judge," you say, laughing. "It's been a rough week."

"I wasn't judging," Fox smirks. "Those are rookie numbers, doctor."

“Rookie, huh?" You raise an eyebrow. "And how many cups would you say a seasoned pro could drink, Commander?"

"At least four." His smirk widens, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head. But your smile never falters, and Fox feels a little surge of pride. 

The way you seem so relaxed around him is surprising. Most civilians are put off by his presence, his harsh demeanor and stoicism, the fact that you aren't afraid of him makes him happy, and the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, filling him with a strange sort of euphoria.

"Well, I think we've established who's the true caffeine addict here," you tease. “You better eat something, or your heart is going to explode."

“Is that your official medical opinion, doctor?" he asks, his tone dry.

"It is," you say, giving him a pointed look.

He can't help but chuckle at your seriousness, and the way your brow furrows as you pretend to scold him. It's cute, and he finds himself enjoying it more than he should. 

He shouldn't be so comfortable around you, and yet he can't seem to stop himself. Something about you just draws him in, and the longer he spends in your company, the less he wants to leave.

"Then, I guess I'd better order something," Fox says, smiling.

“You better," you say, and the sternness in your voice is ruined by the way your eyes sparkle.

The two of you lapse into silence, and Fox takes the opportunity to study you. Your eyes are fixed on the menu, and you’re chewing on your bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Your hair falls around your face, and you absentmindedly tuck a strand behind your ear. You're beautiful, and the thought comes unbidden, but Fox doesn't try to fight it. It's true. You are beautiful. And you're talking to him, of all people, even after how he treated you.

It's surreal, and the fact that you seem so content, so happy, to be in his company is baffling. He can’t stop the questions from swirling through his mind. Why would someone like you want to spend time with him? What could you possibly get out of it? Surely, there had to be some sort of ulterior motive, some scheme or plan. Maybe you were spying for the Separatists, or working with the Black Sun, or—

"Have you eaten here before?" you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

"No, I haven't," Fox admits. "I don't really eat out much."

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” you say, and you grin at him. The gesture is so sincere, so full of warmth and joy, that his heart skips a beat. "They have the best seallia sandwich here. I've been coming here since I started working at the GMF."

"I'll have to try it, then," Fox says, returning your smile.

The droid returns, and the two of you place your orders. When she leaves, the silence settles over the table again, and Fox fidgets, not sure what to do. He’s not normally one for small talk, or any talk, really, but something about your presence makes him want to reach out, and the fact that he doesn't know what to say is frustrating.

He glances over, and the look on your face is thoughtful, almost sad. You're staring at the counter, your chin resting in the palm of your hand, and the corners of your mouth are turned down. 

You look exhausted, and the sudden realization that you're probably as tired as he is hits him like a bolt of lightning. He has no idea how much longer your shift lasts, or how long it's been since you've gotten a decent night's sleep, and the thought of you suffering fills him with a strange sort of guilt.

"Long day?" he asks hesitantly.

"Yeah," you sigh. "I've been trying to get this grant application finished, but it's not going very well."

"Why not?"

"Well, the money is for a new surgical wing," you say, and you shrug. "But the bureaucrats at the hospital board don't seem to think it's worth the effort."

"What's wrong with the old wing?" Fox asks, frowning. He's familiar with the building, and the idea that it might not be up to par is unsettling. If it's not safe, then the lives of his men could be at risk. "Is it not up to code?"

“No, no, nothing like that," you assure him, and he lets out a relieved breath. "It's just...not very modern."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the equipment is outdated, and the space is cramped," you explain. “With the amount of refugees flooding the planet, we're already at capacity. It's only a matter of time before we hit a breaking point, and if we're not prepared..." You trail off, a frown on your face, and you shake your head. "I don't even want to think about it."

"I see," Fox says, and his stomach twists into knots. He's seen the crowds of refugees, the lines of injured people waiting outside the medical centers, and the thought of what would happen if things got any worse is terrifying. There’d already been one riot, and the city was becoming increasingly unstable. It was only a matter of time before something snapped.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be complaining," you say, giving him a small smile. "I know you've got a lot on your plate."

"It's alright," Fox says, his voice soft. The guilt he feels whenever someone mentions the state of the planet is starting to build, and he has to resist the urge to apologize. He knows it’s not his responsibility alone, and yet, the burden is his to carry.

"Thanks," you murmur, and the gratitude in your voice is startling. You offer him a warm smile, and the knot in his stomach loosens, and the guilt recedes. "I'm sorry, I don't usually get to talk about this stuff."

"Why not?"

"My co-workers aren't really interested in listening to me complain about the state of the medical system. They think I’m being paranoid." You sigh and run a hand through your hair. "And they're probably right. We're doing everything we can, and there's only so much we can do with what we have."

"No, I understand," Fox says. His own brothers aren't much better, and he can't count the number of times he's had to deal with their complaints and gripes. The fact that they can't see the bigger picture, the danger lurking just beneath the surface, frustrates him. "Trust me."

"It's nice to hear someone else agree," you say, and there's a wistful note in your voice that makes his heart ache. You sound lonely, and the urge to reach out, to comfort you, is nearly overwhelming. But before he can do anything, the droid returns with your food, and you sit up, smiling. "Thank you."

The food is placed in front of them, and Fox stares at his plate, a little taken aback. The sandwich is massive, and it smells amazing. His stomach growls, and he takes a large bite, closing his eyes as the flavors explode in his mouth.

"Good, right?" you ask, grinning.

"Yes," he says, and he lets out a sigh. The sandwich is the most delicious thing he's ever eaten, and he quickly devours it, savoring every bite. You seem amused, and you watch him with a faint smile on your lips, eating your own food much slower.

The silence between the two of you is comfortable, and Fox is surprised by how easy it is to just sit and enjoy the moment. Every once in a while, you look over at him, and the way your gaze lingers sends shivers down his spine. He can't help but stare back, and the two of you exchange small smiles before returning to your meals.

It's silly, and a little childish, but the warmth in his chest grows with every glance, and soon, he's actively trying not to grin like an idiot.

"So," you say, wiping your mouth. "How's the arm feeling?"

"It's fine." He glances down at his pauldron, and then back at you. "You did a good job."

"That's what I'm here for," you say, laughing.

"I'm sorry I didn't stick around," Fox says, wincing internally at the memory. "Things were pretty hectic that day."

"Don't worry about it," you say, waving him off. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Fox looks at you, his eyebrows raised. You're staring at him, and your expression is genuine. There's no anger or resentment in your eyes, only concern, and his throat tightens. No one's ever looked at him like that before, and the thought that you care so much about his wellbeing is shocking.

"I appreciate it," Fox says, his voice low. He pauses for a moment, and then adds, "And thank you, again, for not dissecting me."

The words sound ridiculous, even to his ears, but the joke seems to work. You snort, and the sound is so unexpected that he has to bite back a laugh.

"Well, I did promise," you tease, grinning.

"That you did."

The two of you fall silent again, and this time, it's more noticeable. The noise of the diner fades, and the sounds of traffic from outside are replaced by the pounding of his heart in his ears. The warmth in his chest is still there, and he tries to ignore it, focusing on his meal instead.

He's almost finished when a thought occurs to him, and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

"I could help you.”

You look up at him, confusion written on your face.

"With the grant," Fox continues, his voice growing strained. He hadn't meant to offer his assistance, but now that he's started, he can't seem to stop. The ideas are pouring out of him, and the need to please you is making his skin prickle. "I know some people, I could put in a word for you."

"Commander—"

"Fox."

"Sorry, Fox." You let out a nervous laugh and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "That's very kind of you, but I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking," Fox points out.

"True, but..." You trail off, and a crease forms between your brows. He can tell that you're hesitant, and he wonders if perhaps he'd crossed a line.

"Forget it," he mutters. "I shouldn't have—"

"No, no, it's not that," you interrupt, shaking your head. "I just don't want to take advantage of you. You have a lot on your plate, and I don't want to add to your workload."

"It's not a problem," he assures you. "My duty is to the people of Coruscant, and if there's something I can do to help, I should do it. It's my responsibility."

"You're not responsible for the whole city, Fox," you say softly. Your brows knit together, and you look so sincere, so earnest, that he can't stop the wave of affection that crashes over him. "You can't fix everything."

"I can try," he shrugs. "And I think the Chancellor would agree with me. It's a good cause, and it could benefit a lot of people."

"The Chancellor?" you ask, blinking. "You'd talk to the Chancellor?"

Fox tries not to scoff. Of course, he'd talk to the Chancellor. He talked to him every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes, it seemed like the only thing he ever did was talk to him.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to hear about the medical center's needs," Fox says, his voice flat.

"That's..." You pause, and the look of surprise on your face melts into something else, something softer, and his chest tightens. "You're sweet."

"I'm not," he mutters, his face heating up. Sweet? What did that mean?

"Yes, you are." You laugh and lean forward, a playful smirk on your face. "And if you insist, I'll take you up on your offer."

"Okay," he says, nodding. He picks up his cup and takes a sip of his caf, hoping that it will hide his blush.

"I'll send you my contact info," you say, smiling at him. "And maybe we can get dinner sometime. To discuss the proposal, of course."

"Of course."

"You pick the place," you add, your eyes sparkling. "And this time, don't run off."

"I promise," he says, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile.

The two of you exchange frequencies, and the conversation quickly turns to lighter topics. The stress of the day, the exhaustion, and the anxiety seems to fade away, and Fox finds himself relaxing. He's actually enjoying himself, and the knowledge that it's because of you is both comforting and frightening.

It's late by the time you finish eating, and the streets have emptied. You pay for your meal, despite his protests, and the two of you step out into the cool night air. The moon is high in the sky, and the traffic has quieted, but the city is far from silent.

"I guess I should be going," you say, letting out a sigh. "I need to get back."

"Right," Fox says.

The two of you stand in front of the entrance, and Fox fidgets, his hands gripping the edges of his helmet. He's not sure what to do, and he's surprised by the sudden reluctance he feels. The thought of saying goodbye, of walking away, and not seeing you again for who knows how long, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Let me escort you," he blurts out.

"I...what?"

"It's not safe for you to walk alone this late," Fox explains. He gestures towards the street, and the faint shadows between the street lamps. “The city is dangerous at night."

"Fox," you say, a slight smile tugging at your lips. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"I know," he says, his voice soft. “But it would make me feel better."

"If you insist," you chuckle.

"I do."

"Well, how can I refuse, when you ask so nicely," you tease, and he gives you a small smile.

The two of you walk side by side, and Fox's eyes are drawn to you. The streetlights catch in your hair, and the faint glow highlights your face, casting shadows on your features. You look radiant, and the urge to reach out and touch you, to brush the stray strands of hair from your cheek, is nearly overpowering.

But he doesn't. Instead, he tucks his hands behind his back and follows along, trying to memorize every detail.

The GMF isn't far. Soon, the two of you are standing outside the entrance, and he's almost disappointed. The walk had gone by too fast, and the thought of going back to the barracks alone, back to his empty room and his empty life, makes his chest ache.

"Well," you say, and he's startled to find that the two of you have stopped. "I guess this is where we part ways."

"Looks like it."

You turn towards him, and his breath catches in his throat.

"I had fun tonight," you say, smiling up at him.

"So did I," Fox admits. He hesitates, and then adds, "I'm sorry if I was rude when we first met. It's not often that civilians are so...welcoming."

"Well, it's a shame," you murmur. You step closer, and the smell of lavender surrounds him. His heartbeat picks up, and he's suddenly acutely aware of how close you are. "They're missing out."

"I wouldn't be so sure," he says, his tone dry.

"I would," you say firmly. You reach out and touch his arm, your hand warm even through his armor, and the contact sends a shock through his system. "Thank you, Fox."

He swallows thickly and nods. "Anytime."

"I'll comm you about the grant," you promise, and you squeeze his arm. "Have a good night, Commander."

"You, too," he manages, and then you turn, and disappear through the doors.

He stands there for a moment, watching the door, and a strange sense of longing fills him. It's not the first time he's felt lonely, and the feeling is familiar, but there's something else, something new, that accompanies it. He can't quite name it, but the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, and he lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping.

Maybe Thorn was right. Maybe he'd just needed to take a break. But the way you'd made him feel, the warmth and joy, was something that had never happened before, and it's a feeling that he can't let go.

Maybe things are starting to change.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

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@kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Hiii, could I request like the ‘06 gang (Sonic, Shadow, Silver) x reader (platonic or romantic is fine) that’s scared of vaccines/shots since I have to get ones soon and I like shake just thinking about it (I’m really sensitive (idk why) and my arm always hurts way longer than other people’s for some reason)

GRAHH SORRY FOR RANTING I LIKE NEVER EVER DO REQUESTS SO I’M REALLY NERVOUS ANYWAYS THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU DO THIS OR NOT‼️‼️‼️

A/n: dw lol, ur not rambling

Triple S x reader scared of shots

Sonic:

Sonic’s the first to notice your nervousness as you anxiously tap your foot. He gets it, sitting still isn’t his thing either, so having to go through something uncomfortable? No thanks! But he’s not about to let you do this alone.

Sonic want to make sure that you aren't just suffering the whole time, so he tried to keep things light hearted. Making jokes, random distractions, etc to get your mind off the shots. Maybe making you do trivia of him

He’s tossing questions at you like, "What’s my favorite food? Wrong! It’s a chili dog AND cola! Gotcha"

When you reach the clinic, Sonic sees how tense you are, so he offers his hand with a smirk. "It's fine, you can hold on if you need to!" He’s playful about it, but his hand is warm, steady, and there for you to grip onto if you need. He’s always right there, "You got this! Think of it as just a tiny pinch!"

Once it’s over, Sonic doesn’t let you dwell on the soreness. Instead, he’s already planning a day full of fun things. "Hey, I know the perfect way to forget about that shot, let’s go grab some food or go to an arcade!"

He’s all about making sure you end the day on a high note, reassuring you every time you wince. He’ll even make you laugh by pretending his arm hurts too, just to keep your spirits up.

Shadow:

Shadow is the quiet support type. He notices how your usual energy fades the moment you realize you need to get a shot, and he can see the worry in your eyes even if you try to hide it. He may not say much, but he’s not about to let you go through this without his support.

Shadow isn’t big on comforting words, but he has a way of grounding you when you’re feeling anxious. He’ll place a steady hand on your shoulder, looking you in the eyes. "You’re stronger than this. You’ve faced worse." A bit of a tough love guy.

He knows you’re sensitive and that your arm tends to ache more than others afterward. So, he might take some to reassure you that when you get the shot, it'll be okay, and it won't be as harsh as other injuries you've attained.

When it’s over, Shadow stays by your side, silently making sure you’re okay. He’ll help you find a comfortable way to hold your arm, reminding you to relax the muscles around the injection site to ease the soreness. He even surprises you by making tea. If you wince, he might mutter, "hm, humans and your sensitive bodies..." but he'll still massage your arm, it'll probably hurt more than just getting the shot tho tbh-.

Silver

Silver is the most empathetic. He sees how anxious you are about the shot and starts trying to comfort you to the best of his abilities.

He knows fear is a big deal, and he’s very vocal about it. "Hey, it’s okay to be scared!" Silver’s the type to assure you it’s natural to feel nervous, and he offers to be there for you.

Silver tries to create the calmest atmosphere possible. He takes deep breaths with you, even suggesting meditation or some grounding techniques to help soothe you. "Let’s just close our eyes and focus on something peaceful for a minute."

After the shot, Silver feels terrible seeing you in any discomfort, so he’s extra attentive. He’ll offer to massage your arm if you’re okay with it (it's way more gentle than Shadow) or bring you anything to help ease the soreness, will give cuddles to ease the pain.

All 3 of them:

He’s the one to keep you smiling, whether with jokes or challenges to keep your mind busy. He’d bet Silver and Shadow on who can make you laugh the fastest, anything to keep you from focusing on your anxiety.

Shadow’s calm presence is there as a constant reminder that he's there, I mean if he didn't want to be there, he just wouldn't, but he is there. He doesn’t need to say much, but the way he holds your hand or pats your shoulder speaks volumes. He keeps things practical, making sure you know that your strength is what’s helping you through this.

Silver would be the one to say the gentle words that help you accept your fear without feeling judged. If you’re feeling sensitive afterward, he’d be there. "You did amazing. You’re stronger than you think, and you’ve got us all here to take care of you."

A/n: sorry if you expected Archie silver, you’re getting idw

[peachsayshi]

˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags:  mmf threesome; geto x gojo x reader; smut

notes: you can blame my horny state of mind for writing this. 

wc: 755

satoru gojo is disgusted with his behavior. he hates that every interaction with you, his best friend’s girlfriend, results in his cock straining against the fabric of his pants. all alone in his bedroom, he slips his hand underneath his boxers to do everything he can to relieve himself, and he whimpers pathetically from the slightest contact. the walls to his shared apartment with suguru are way too thin. he can hear your muffled moans, the sound of your whines feeding his heated state as he pumps even faster. when he closes his eyes he thinks about how suguru fucks you, pictures how pliable you look underneath his large frame and tries to imagine the squelching sounds your pussy makes as suguru pounds into your cunt. he cums all over himself, sinking his teeth into his pillowcase as a single tear trickles down his blushing face. he swears he’s going to stop, that he would finally get a grip on these urges but he’s caught in a vicious circle. it’s a dirty little secret he conceals - but the guilt wraps around his neck like a noose whenever you or geto smile in his direction. 

you love how much you’ve integrated yourself into suguru’s life, especially when it came to his cherished friendship with satoru. he always spoke so fondly of gojo - and sometimes you wonder just how close they were prior to you dating. you only recently began noticing a slight shift in satoru’s behavior. you tried not to dwell on it at first, and merely assumed that he was just going through something. but one night, when you snuck away from suguru’s bed to use the bathroom, you approached the door and noticed a strip of light peeking out from underneath the frame. you could hear low grunts coming from the other side, and your stomach coiled because you immediately picked up on what was happening. satoru was moaning softly to himself, cursing under his breath until your name left him like a broken plea. you quickly turned on your heel, marching straight back to your boyfriend’s bedroom in utter shock. 

suguru laughs when you tell him the story. you were anxious and worried, but your boyfriend merely chuckled to himself with indifference. “poor guy. he hates being alone. he must be getting frustrated, and it looks like he isn’t getting any action,” he explained with genuine sympathy, before proceeding to point out that he was the only reason why gojo managed to get laid in the first place. “I've been neglecting my duties since we got serious,” he pointed out with a shrug. you were surprised that he wasn’t more alarmed about the situation, but suguru reassures you that satoru wouldn’t cross any lines. at this point, you wanted to satisfy your own curiosities and you boldly asked suguru if he’s ever helped out satoru when he was this deseprate. “it’s happened a few times,” your boyfriend honestly replies, “but satoru and I know it doesn’t mean anything...” 

the heavy silence is only broken when you shock suguru with a suggestion, by stating that maybe the two of you can assist satoru in his current predicament. your boyfriend’s eyes glimmer with excitement - and he can’t help but think what this could mean for the three of you in the future. 

“is this better, satoru?” suguru murmurs, his thumb tracing over gojo’s throat as he looks down at him. 

he’s standing next to the edge of the bed, while satoru lays out flat across the mattress. his best friend nods his head, panting heavily as his slender fingers press into the meat of your thighs. he’s watching you grind your hips back and forth with hooded eyes. his abdominals sink when you drag your nails across his torso, and you can’t help but smile over how pretty he looks melting beneath you. 

“fuck, she f-feels...she feels amazing...ugh, you’re so perfect...” he cries, choking out a sob as you slowly raise your hips before dropping your weight back down over his length. 

suguru raises his brow with approval, and tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as he eyes you hungrily before flashing you a tender smile. 

“she really is...” 

his fingers curl underneath satoru’s frosty locks, and he lightly massages his scalp. “you act like such a needy brat when you don’t get what you want...” he huffs, bringing the tip of his leaky cock against satoru’s lips, “now be a good boy and show me how thankful you are.” 

[grumpymiika]

♡ TW: Yandere, Kidnapped, dark content, inappropriate behavior, captured reader

♡ English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

For months, he had admired you from afar. He was a nobleman—wealthy, desired by many—yet, for some reason, you had never turned your gaze to him. He did everything to capture your attention, but the most he achieved was to become your friend. You continued finding new suitors, and, desperate for your love, he always ensured they were removed from your path.

And now, it was no different. Once again, you had taken a new lover. A man of some standing, but nothing compared to Marcel. Why would you never look at him? He had no time to dwell on it, though; Marcel had to do what he always did. He lured the man like a bird into a trap; and, foolishly, he fell right in. Another victim; once more, Marcel’s hands were stained with red. But something within him whispered that soon, you would give him the attention he deserved.

This scene was familiar: there you were, heartbroken, beside a grave, mourning the loss of yet another beloved. And he, the perfect gentleman, approached to comfort you. "Don’t cry, my dear."

"I loved him! Why do all my lovers die?"

"Everything happens for a reason. Perhaps you simply haven’t yet found the right man for you."

"..."

And it happened again, and again. The strange events surrounding your life led the townsfolk to fear you; they began to believe you were cursed, that anyone daring to court you would meet an untimely end. Some even believed you were the one responsible for their deaths.

Eventually, you, too, began to believe in this so-called curse. You started avoiding relationships, fearing for the lives of those you held dear. But Marcel would not give up on you so easily. Not after everything he had done.

One ordinary morning, Marcel invited you over for tea. Naively, you accepted. Arriving at his mansion, you knocked gently and waited for an answer. You heard the sound of a lock turning, and then the door opened, revealing him.

"Hello, welcome."

"Hello..."

"I can see you’re not feeling any better. Come in, I’ll help soothe you."

You entered the mansion and glanced around, admiring every corner of his residence. Marcel walked ahead, leading the way, and you followed. Once seated at the grand table, you both began exchanging light conversation. Holding the teacup, you raised it to your lips, taking a sip of the drink. It was smooth, delightful. He watched you with a faint smile, "Are you feeling better?" he asked, sipping his own tea. "A little, yes. Thank you."

"Wonderful to hear, my dear," he said, his smile widening. But you suddenly felt weak, your vision blurring. "You know, I have always loved you, and you never noticed." You struggled to understand his words as your body grew heavy. "I love you deeply. I’ve done everything for you, yet still, you never looked at me. Do you know how that feels?"

"I... don’t understand," you murmured. "I am the one who doesn’t understand! What am I lacking? Please, tell me!" He rose and came closer, gripping your face with force, compelling you to look at him. Before you could answer, your eyes began to close… thinking became harder. "What’s happening?"

"Oh, that? Well, I was tired of waiting. Finally, you’ll be mine."

You could no longer resist and your eyes fell shut. When you awoke, you were bound and naked. He sat beside you, watching intently. "You’re so beautiful, did you know that?" he murmured with a smile. Your mind was still foggy, unable to think clearly—everything felt strange. "And now, you're all mine, forever." He rose, then sat beside you on the bed, letting his fingers trace across your exposed skin. "All mine tonight and for eternity."

[lovings4turn]

જ⁀➴  𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋  . . .  (𝐆. 𝐑.)

— two things are definite: you like george, and george likes you. unfortunately, you two seem to be the only ones who don't see it.

+ part of my 'be my valentine' mixtape series ! love this song and i was so excited to use it for a george fic, so i hope you enjoy <3

“oh mate, you’re joking.”

“shut up!” george huffed, running the palm of his hand down his face in exasperation. “it was not that bad.”

he could defend himself all he liked, because in spite of that, george knew it really was.

this was possibly the third time this month that george had fumbled his chance to ask you out, and alex was beginning to grow tired of his friend’s constant pining and lingering stares. 

“here’s what you’re gonna do,” alex said, his voice growing more serious as he looked george dead in the eyes. “you’re gonna ring y/n, and you’re gonna tell her you forgot something at her place. a shirt, socks, anything.”

"but i haven't?"

"not the point," alex groaned. "you're gonna tell her that, so you have an excuse to turn up there. this is your chance. don't be a stupid. tell her you think she's cool, that you like her, something to charm her."

george still wasn't convinced. his brows were pinched together as he ran over alex's plan in his mind, able to find a thousand different ways it could go wrong for him.

"right. and what happens when she realises that i haven't actually left anything there, and i just look like a massive twat for showing up?"

alex wasn't sure that he could take any more.

"mate, you can't just sit around and wait for some sort of fairy tale ending to come out of nowhere for you. at some point, you're just going to have to confess to her."

though he was being assertive, alex was still trying to be supportive, laying a hand on george's shoulder and delivering a friendly pat of encouragement.

"i can promise you she's probably thinking the exact same thing right now, anyways."

george scoffed, his answer hanging in the air unspoken. as if.

unbeknownst to george, alex was a lot closer to the truth than even he may have realised.

the events of the afternoon were playing on a loop in your mind as you tried to dissect every last piece of your interaction with george, from how he'd greeted you - a brief side hug and a smile - to how he'd said goodbye - a weak effort to get you to stay and a silly, yet endearing, wave.

was this your life now? driving yourself mad over even the smallest little details, all because of some stupid feelings?

when you'd first started developing somewhat of a crush on the mercedes driver, you made a promise to yourself that it would never become a thing. and you had kept that promise for roughly four months, until you made a huge error: revealing your feelings to someone else.

ever since you had let it slip to a friend that you actually quite liked george in ways that far surpassed the platonic label, you'd been - for lack of a better phrase - absolutely fucked.

now you had people to fuel your delusions, try to convince you that george had to feel the same way, and no, of course he wasn't just being polite when he offered you his jacket, you fool. outside interference and reassurance should have made you more confident in your feelings, maybe even push you to confess, but instead they'd had the opposite effect.

the weight of the word 'hopeless' in hopeless romantic had really started to resonate with you. though you weren't allowed to dwell on your misfortunes for too long.

some may have chalked it up to fate, some may have attributed it to a divine power wanting to laugh at a poor mortal, but whatever the reason, your phone rang with an incoming call from george.

the stupid candid photo you’d taken as a contact picture flashed up on your screen, and the automatic smile that painted your lips made you want to yell in frustration.

"y/n, hi!"

pathetic was the perfect word to describe you, thanks to how utterly gone you were for george, as the mere sound of your name leaving his lips was enough to make your heart jump.

"sorry, know i only saw you a few hours ago, but i just remembered that i think i left one of my mercedes shirts at yours when i was there the other day."

you didn't even think twice about it, why would you? george had left countless items at your place in the past, and he would leave more in the future.

"no problem. y'can always come by and get it, i'll try and grab it for you."

george's chest ached at how ready to help you were.

"yeah? you're a lifesaver, y/n, really. i'll set off now, should be there in about fifteen minutes."

brief 'see you later's were exchanged, and the moment you set your phone down onto the coffee table, your hunt began.

you didn't recall seeing one of george's shirts anywhere around, but previous mishaps had enlightened you to the fact that things could turn up anywhere. you'd thought that the shoes buried right underneath your bed were odd, until a sock turned up in your bread bin a few weeks later.

nothing was off limits anymore.

yet, somehow, no matter where you looked, you couldn't find the fucking shirt. frustration slowly nibbled at your mind, the sound of a knock being the only thing to break you from your frantic search.

an annoyingly attractive george russell greeted you when you swung open the front door.

in all of the years he'd known you, george thought this was the most adorable you'd looked.

your hair was in disarray, the strands unkempt as though you'd been running your hands through it over and over again. your face shone a little, and you were clearly a little out of breath, if the small, panting gasps you took were anything to go by.

your apartment was a mess, and george quickly realised that you'd turned your entire place practically upside down to try and find a shirt that wasn't even there in the first place.

guilt began to bubble up in his throat, and george hoped that, after today, it would all be worth it. he only had one chance, and he wasn't going to fuck it up.

before he could allow doubt to creep into his mind and sow seeds of regret, george lifted a hand to cup your jaw. the feeling of your soft skin against his palm elicited a gasp to slip from his mouth. the parting of his lips provided you with the perfect opportunity to meld your lips together in a chaste, sweet kiss.

feelings went unspoken, for now. time would grant you the chance to properly word every last affection you harboured for one another at a later date.

besides, george was a firm believer that actions spoke louder than words, and this kiss was living proof.

george forced himself to pull back, his forehead resting against your own, and he believed that to die like this would be a blessed fate. because you were definitely going to kill him when you found out the truth.

"i lied, by the way. there was no shirt," he mumbled, blue eyes meeting yours with a wince.

"you fucking dick."

[skzhua]

Episode nine.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 5.7k

warnings: Swearing, suggestive, jealous Min Ho, sad for some parts.

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

a/n: So much is happening in this one... and it's so long...

"A reason, a season, or a lifetime."

Q paused his workout for a moment. Frowning at Min Ho in confusion, he asked him to explain furthermore. As he stopped massaging his face with the face roller, he sighed.

"Every relationship fits into one of those categories. I read it in a magazine."

Q, not caring much, resumed to working out. Meanwhile, you came out of your room and sat next to Min Ho.

"The point is," he continued. "Y/N and I are starting a relationship. And looking at how things were before between us, I believe we got together for a reason."

"You needed to get laid with a chick?"

You slapped Q's arm aggressively. "What a way to talk about me when I am right here!"

"Not for that, no." Min Ho chuckled. "She showed me that there was more than just casual dating, that it could be worth it."

You laughed and he looked at you weirdly. "What?"

"I'm talking about real feelings and you are laughing?"

"No, I believe you are being sincere and it's real sweet. But it does not fit you at all." you still laughed.

His jaw clenched. "It might not have been that worth it asking you to be my girlfriend, after all."

That shut you up real quick. After a small apology, he invited you in his arms to cuddle before placing a soft peck on the top of your head. You squirmed in comfort.

"Do I have to third-wheel?" Q whined.

"Don't be like this, you have Florian." you assured but it didn't seem to do the trick.

"Yeah..."

Min Ho immediately noticed the shift in his voice. "How are things with him?"

"He's going through some stuff, but I'm here for him."

"That's good. I'm sure he's glad to have you around." you smiled warmly at him.

Having complained about third-wheeling barely two minutes ago, to Q's luck, Dae and Kitty came to join in the living room, skipping before he took her in his arms. Telling each other sweet 'good morning's, the remaining three of you grunted in annoyance.

"And now I am fifth-wheeling." Q muttered to himself.

Min Ho gave the couple the side eye. "It's too early to be this cheery."

"I am this cheery." Kitty affirmed as she and Dae went to the kitchen counter to prepare coffee for everyone. "Not only because I have the most perfect boyfriend in the world-"

"Lucky you." you said as you sat down with Min Ho behind you, rubbing your arms.

"Thank you?" he gasped, offended.

Kitty chuckled before continuing. "But it has also come to my attention that I am failing most of my classes. That means that if I don't do amazing on the finals, I will flunk out of school."

"How is this making you cheery?" you asked.

"Well, if I dwell the fact that I was considered super smart at home and here I can barely keep up, I will start sobbing."

You, on the other hand, had never been doing any better. Your aunt was proud of you for integrating the school perfectly, your uncle praised your grades in his class, you had friends, a boyfriend... This was all too good to be true. You started to doubt that it was going to last, especially with finals coming up so soon.

"We still have a week." Dae spoke. "We're going to make study plans and everyone will help you."

Min Ho shook his head. "I'm very busy and Y/N-"

"Everyone." Dae said in a stern tone. "Guys, Kitty and I are finally together. I'm not going to let her fail out of this school now."

"Well, I'm in. I'll help with chem." Q said.

You raised your hand. "I could ask my uncle for extra exercises in history." you suggested to which Kitty thanked you.

"She definitely needs to work on her Korean." Min Ho mumbled.

"What did you just call me?" Kitty asked angrily, immediately taking offense.

"Exactly." he deadpanned at her.

Dae assured her he'll be helping her with the rest. Being top student, he was the perfect tutor for her. Clinging your mugs of coffee together, you started to get ready afterwards. However, Min Ho did not let you go back to your room and grabbed you by the arm to kiss you.

"I'd love doing that, but I need to change."

He pouted but let go of you. "We can't have a moment to us in this dorm."

You could only laugh at him. You simply adored how much of a softy he was to you.

Tutoring Kitty was either easy or hard. It depended on how motivated she was and, most of the time, she was only discouraged.

"You've got 53%" you said sadly as you gave her back the sheet of paper.

Your uncle happily gave you exam practices for Kitty to study, but with this one being the fourth she did already, you were starting to feel like she was a lost cause. Plus, the library was fully packed since everyone was studying.

"Great." she grunted before dropping her head into her arms.

"It's four percent better than last time."

"And that's what's going to help me pass, yes."

She made a good point. You sprawled on your chair and sighed heavily with her. It looked as if it was the two of you who were failing. And Min Ho just had to confirm that when he sat with you with his Korean lesson books to take over Kitty's tutoring.

"Aren't you two adorable." he teased you and you stuck out your tongue at him. "I'm serious, you are cute."

"Ew." Kitty said in disgust.

"Not you. Y/N." he specified. "I believe it's time to work on your Korean now."

Kitty shook her head. "I am on the verge of dropping out myself. Give me five minutes."

He frowned before glancing at you. "I'm assuming history didn't go well."

"Nope." you chuckled. "I'm sure she'll get the hang of it... We just need to study more."

She let out a whine. "Study, study, study... this is all I've been doing today."

"Stop complaining, you asked us to help you." Min Ho said, frustrated.

He convinced her to get into studying Korean and you stayed with them, having nothing else to do. She started to get the hang of the the basics but it was still very bad. By the end of it, she was able to tell what were some verbs and such.

"Are you coming back to the dorm with me?" she asked while taking her bag to head out.

Min Ho held you by the waist as you walked. "Not today. I have prepared something very special for my girlfriend."

You looked away from him in an attempt to hide your blush. "Another surprise?"

"You can't have enough of them. Don't worry, I think you will like it a lot."

"I'll love it for sure if I'm with you."

Kitty groaned. "I think I preferred it when you were cussing each other out."

"Says the one who is too cheery when she's with Dae."

That shut her up and she parted ways with you, leaving Min Ho laughing with pride. You shook your head in disapproval.

"What? It wasn't even mean."

"Nothing. So, what's the surprise?"

He smirked. "You'll see."

You took a stroll around campus, hand in hand, and he eventually left the grounds to lead you somewhere. Just there, his chauffeur was waiting for you. You skeptically hopped in and he drove off. Being driven away when you didn't know the destination was usually a sign to run away. But you trusted Min Ho, maybe more than you should.

It wasn't even twenty minutes after that he pulled over in front of Han River. A typical date in Seoul. Getting off the car, Min Ho took your hand to help you out and you followed the trail while admiring the view.

"This is so cheesy." you laughed.

"Stop that, it's cute."

You snorted. "I'm sure you brought other girls here."

He smiled in shame. "Fair. But I didn't like any of them as much as you."

Your face became red. A couple of steps later, something popped in your mind. You grew tense and he felt it. As he halted his movements, he rubbed your shoulders while asking you what was wrong.

"What happened with Lulu?"

He gulped. "Should it matter?"

"Kind of."

He sighed and resumed to walking with you. "I went out with her the night after you literally saved my ass. We made out, sure, but I haven't talked to her since."

You nodded. "Okay, and was there anyone else?"

He shook his head violently. "I couldn't get you off my mind after I..." he paused and coughed. "Well, it doesn't matter."

You began to connect the dots. "You had a sex dream about me."

He coughed again. "No."

"So Q was right." you giggled. "How was it?"

"I did not have a sex dream about you."

"Awe, Min, don't be shy."

He looked away and you kept on laughing at him. He fastened his pace in silence. You called out for him and tried to catch up to his pace. He refused to look back at you. But once you did reach him, you were left speechless. On a picnic table, he had delicately placed candles and lights as well as some pillows for comfort. The best wasn't even that. It was the food. You spotted kimbap, japchae, tteokboki, kimchi... The amount was overwhelming.

"I'm... wow." you breathed out.

He walked up to you and hugged you from behind. "I thought we could use a night to ourselves."

You smiled widely. "This is perfect, no one has done something like this for me before."

"Expect to get more of this. Shall we?"

You sat down face to face and he helped you with serving yourself, asking what you wanted to taste first. Every single dish was delicious, you couldn't get enough of it. Min Ho watched you eat, satisfied with how the surprise turned out.

"When did you even cook this?" you asked, still having a bite of kimbap in your mouth.

"I used my chauffeur's kitchen and I missed my classes today."

Your face fell. "Min Ho..."

"It was my pleasure, darling."

You grabbed his hand and stroke it with your thumb. "I love it but I don't want you to fall behind in school because of me."

He gave you a reassuring smile. "I'm doing great in all of my classes, don't worry."

After eating, you went on with your evening stroll. Talking about everything and nothing, it eventually got to the point where he discussed about his parents with you. He understood the lifestyle of his mother but it was starting to get to him more nowadays. If there was one person he loved more than anything, it was her. So being apart from her for so long, he suffered. The relationship with his father wasn't as pleasant. He had pretty much cut off ties with him, not approving of his new way of living life after the divorce.

"Do you miss him?"

He thought for an instant. "Sometimes. But I miss the old him, not what he has become."

"I'm sorry."

He huffed. "Don't be. I'm better off without him."

A silence took over and he stopped you to observe the river. He wrapped his arms around you while you did the same around his torso.

"How did you do when they passed?"

The question took you by surprise, although it shouldn't have since you were already on topic. "I was empty inside. I lost a lot of friends who were sticking to me only for the wealth. I fought a lot with my aunt who didn't even plan on having children and she suddenly had this kid coming to live with her. It was..."

He saw you choke up on your words and brought his hands to your face to stop you from talking any more. "Hey. You don't have to tell me."

"You asked."

He chuckled. "Yeah, but it doesn't mean I wanted to make you think about it all over again and break in front of me."

You got up on your tiptoes – him being the giant he is – and you kissed him. While it was sweet and delicate at first, Min Ho took the lead quickly. Holding you tighter, he deepened the kiss, almost leaving you breathless.

"Shouldn't we get back to the dorm? Curfew is soon."

He didn't want to but you were right. You went back to the car and the driver drove you back to campus.

You didn't know whether it was you or him who started it, but both of you were needy. Walking in the dorm, you couldn't keep your hands off each other as you kept on stealing kisses every two seconds.

"Guys, we're busy here." Q deadpanned at the two of you as he pointed to Kitty with her school books.

Getting his coat off, Min Ho proceeded to help you with yours. "So are we."

Kitty groaned. "Well, don't do that here."

He gave her a look. "But you are all over Dae all the time here, yes."

You dragged him into his room before he would say another stupid thing. As soon ad the door closed, his lips were back on yours. He lost no time in helping get your vest off, both of you still in your school uniforms.

"You're so impatient." you said in-between the kisses.

"Maybe."

You found him shirtless seconds later and you stepped back to his bed. Laying you down, he topped you and started to work on your neck, sucking on your skin. He brushed your thigh gently before giving it a squeeze. You let out a gasp. You felt him smile against your skin. You brought up to your lips again and started to feel him up and you touched his abdomen. His efforts in looking his best truly paid off, you couldn't find him any hotter.

"You're so pretty." he rasped out.

"You're the pretty one."

"You're right."

You slapped him slightly and he laughed. "I think I love you."

You immediately froze. He pulled back slightly before stuttering incoherent words. You only blinked, which made Min Ho sweat. Why weren't you saying anything?

"Y/N?"

You pushed him off and placed yourself so you were laying facing one another. Putting your hand on his jaw, you stroke his cheek softly.

"I love you, too."

The first thing you saw was Min Ho's bare back. You could hear him breathe calmly as the rays of sunshine hit his skin perfectly. So... You slept in his room... Nothing too odd. You were his girlfriend, after all. You tried to get out of bed carefully to not waking him up. But it didn't work as he turned around and brought into his arms, stopping your from getting out of bed.

"Good morning." he mumbled.

"I didn't want to wake you."

"Too late." he said, stretching his arm out.

"Get ready, I'll go make you a cup of coffee."

He grinned and gave you a small kiss. "You're just too perfect, aren't you?"

You walked out of his room to let him change and freshen up and were startled when you saw Yuri sit with Kitty and Dae. You slowly went to make coffee, confused.

"Hi, Y/N." Yuri smiled at you.

"What is happening?"

"I came out to my mom, moved out of the penthouse, and here I am! Living with you!"

You perked an eyebrow at her. "You came out?"

"Yeah, it was hard, but I feel so much better."

"Oh my God, that's great! I'm so happy for you."

She smiled even more. "Thank you."

"Yuri started to help me with history. Want to join?" Kitty asked.

In the meantime of your hot beverage being ready, you sat with them and asked questions to Kitty. You were happy to see she was able to answer most of them easily.

"Timeline of the later Three Kingdoms." Yuri read out loud the memo card, laying on her back while her legs were slumped on the couch, in-between Dae and Kitty.

"890 to 936." she answered automatically.

"The first political state?" you asked in your turn.

"Gojoseon." she said in a broken Korean.

"Gojoseon." Dae corrected her and she repeated properly.

"What is happening?"

You hadn't even notice Min Ho coming out of the room and was now leaning on your seat, rubbing your shoulder softly. You put your hand on top of his and he gave you a quick smile before focusing on Yuri again.

"I moved in!" she answered happily, proceeding to sit up properly.

"What? Why?" he looked to all three of them. "Are you a throuple now?"

"No." they all answered.

"I'm gay." Yuri said and Min Ho seemed to be even more lost so she continued. "I came out to my mom, moved out of the penthouse. Scared, excited..."

"Wait." he stopped her. "You've been gay this whole time?"

"It's not a choice."

"I know, I mean..." he began to say but stopped mid-way. "So you and Dae... you were in a fake relationship?" They nodded. "So Kitty was right?"

Kitty smiled proudly. "I told you I know matchmaking."

His body tensed. "You're not mad at Dae? He lied, and lied, and lied..."

You tensed in your turn. Because you lied as well.

"I was mad." Kitty affirmed. "But then I forgave him, and Yuri, and Y/N-"

"Wow." he scoffed.

He retracted his hand from you and took a step back. You felt your heart pound as anxiety crept in, and not the kind you would feel when something good was about to happen. The kind you'd feel when something bad was coming.

"You're as trusting as my dad's third wife."

"Hey." Dae got defensive. "Kitty and I are good. Leave it alone."

"I'm not good."

The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. At that point, he was ignoring your presence.

"You lied to me, too." he continued. "A lot. I wouldn't do that to a friend."

He slowly dared to glance at you and you gulped. You stood up next to him. "Min Ho..."

"Or someone I care about." he said more softly, though you could hear the pain. "I just wouldn't."

He left abruptly, shutting the door of his room harshly. Meanwhile, you felt the tears prick in your eyes. Things were just starting to be good for you, and you had to mess it all up.

"Finals." Yuri exhaled. "Makes everyone crazy."

You gave her a look but she shrugged and went back to asking Kitty questions. Feeling the need to get away from all of this, you went to get changed and left the dorm. A walk seemed to be exactly what you needed.

So why wasn't it doing anything? You felt nothing but emptiness as you walked by other students. You plugged in your earbuds to block out the outside world and spaced out, heading to nowhere precisely. You checked your phone after a while but you got nothing from Min Ho. You couldn't blame him for being mad at you, you were supposed to trust him the most. You trusted him the most. You were submerged with guilt and, as your mind came back to reality, you were standing in front of the administration of the school. You didn't even need to knock as your aunt had already opened the door of her office only from the sight of you in her window.

"Hey, I didn't know you'd stop by." she cheerfully greeted you but her smile dropped once she took in what state you were in. "Oh, dear. Come on in."

She offered you tea and even if you didn't feel like eating or drinking, you let her make a cup for you. She cleaned up her desk a little to make space and sat in front of you, waiting for you to speak.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

Her eyes softened. "Of course, anytime. Now, tell me what happened."

You took a deep breath. "I don't know. Things got complicated, I guess."

She nodded her head slowly. "I see. I won't tell you what to do but know that I'm always here for you if anything. Time will fix everything, I promise."

You huffed with a smile. "That's what they all say."

"Because it's true." she chuckled and then glanced at the clock in her office. "Your classes start soon. I'll make you a good meal for tonight."

Min Ho: I'm getting coffee with Dae. Do you want me to get you something?

You scoffed at the text. Although you were surprised he was the one to reach out first, this was not the text you thought he'd send.

Min Ho: You saw my message, I know it.

Y/N: I won't be at the dorm tonight, so no thanks.

Min Ho: Where are you?

Y/N: I'm fine.

Min Ho: I didn't ask how you were doing, idiot. I asked where you are.

Y/N: Are you still mad at me?

Min Ho: Yes..?

Y/N: Okay, then I'm not at the dorm to leave you space.

Min Ho: It's not because I'm mad that I don't worry about you. Where are you? I'm picking you up.

Y/N: Don't.

Min Ho: Please.

Y/N: It's only going to worsen things. You'll stay mad, it'll be awkward, and then we both won't be able to sleep.

Min Ho: We'll talk, I promise.

Y/N: Fine. I'm at my aunt's.

You got up from bed and went to the front door. Your uncle, still awake, watched you leave in silence.

"Be careful out there." he said before going back to reading his book.

"I will. Thank you for tonight, it was nice."

He gave you a smile and you left. You waited by the porch of your front door and saw a fancy car coming only a couple of minutes later. You went inside where Dae and Min Ho were seated, coffees in hands. Min Ho passed you an ice americano and you hummed as to thank him. The ride was, as you predicted, awkward as hell. Dae was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt in uneasiness and Min Ho was sipping on his drink every five seconds, visibly nervous.

And the walk to the dorm wasn't any better. As soon as you walked in, you announced you were going to bed. Min Ho immediately stopped you and asked Dae for some time alone with you. Finally just the two of you, you sat on the couch and he copied you.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he finally broke the silence.

You exhaled loudly. "That morning when Kitty ran away, Dae came to our room to talk with her and said it was fake. But then you opened the door, I was there, he didn't know because he left before he saw me. Then I asked Yuri about it and she begged me to keep it to myself."

He hummed. "Okay. I get it for back then because we both didn't like each other. But what about after?"

You shrugged. "It wasn't for me to tell you. I swear I just wanted to have nothing to do with all of it."

He took your hand in his. That's a good start.

"From now on, don't lie to me like this again."

You nodded and that's all it took for him to bring you into his embrace. You melted at the touch and engulfed your head in his shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

He hushed you. "It's okay. I might have overreacted."

You laughed in agreement. The rest of the evening went on smoothly. He invited you to stay with him for the night and he pulled his laptop to his bed so you could watch something together. Dae complained a few times about the volume and the giggles you would slip out every now and then. Other than that, you felt at peace. You were just content that things were back to normal, and you fell asleep soon after.

You groaned loudly as Yuri kept on blabbering about the talent show. To help Kitty get ten percent bonus on her exam, she gathered as many people as she could to do a traditional dance. That was the condition Lee put in place to boost the notes. And you were not left out of it.

"We have to help her, Y/N."

You played around with the food in your plate as another sigh left your mouth. "I don't know, Yuri."

"You'll get ten percent more, too."

You shook your head. "I already have excellent grades, I don't need bonuses."

"She's your friend."

"So is she yours, and you're already doing it. She doesn't need both of us."

She rolled her eyes at you. "The more, the better."

You then saw a guy from your English class walk to your table. Byungwon, if you remembered well. He used to go to school with you and Yuri during middle school. Apart from brief 'hi's and nods of acknowledgement, you hadn't talked to him in years.

"Can I sit here?" he smiled at you.

Yuri frowned. "Why?"

"My friends are at practice for the swimming team."

"I thought you were in the team as well." you said.

"Injured. I'm left alone."

Forming your mouth in a 'o' shape, you gestured for him to sit with you. "How have you been?"

"Great, apart from the injury. I haven't talked to you two in so long. I figured we could catch up." he beamed at you.

Yuri chuckled. "Yeah, we did draw apart with time. I figured you were living your new life well, you know? Part of the swimming team, girls all over you, good grades..."

He blushed. "You're making it seem bigger than it is. I could say the same for you two. You have quite grown well." He looked at you. "And you look great."

You felt the heat rush to your face, so you focused on your food instead, clearing your throat in the process. "You too." you mumbled.

Yuri's eyes flickered between him and you, a smirk slowly creeping on her face. She knew you used to like him, and so the opposite. Visibly, old feelings easily came back. Though she would have usually teased you about it, she rooted for your relationship with Min Ho. If anything, you were simply taken aback from Byungwon's sudden reappearance.

"You still like her." she teased the guy who instantly gulped.

"No."

You wanted to punch her just there and then. "Yuri."

She shook her head. "Or maybe not. But just so you know, she's taken now."

"I know." he said. "I simply want to catch up, that's all."

A couple of tables further from yours, Q was poorly trying to calm Min Ho down. The latter was fuming. All he could see was the sweet smile Byungwon was shooting at you and the giggles you let out with pink appearing on your cheeks. He knew you wouldn't do anything close to cheating on him, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to be worried about you leaving him for someone else. Adding the fact the two of you began your whole dynamic with hate, he was slightly worried you still had that kind of feeling towards him.

"Min Ho, they're just talking." Dae said, growing discouraged.

"I'm not jealous, I'm just saying that he doesn't need to be so close to her."

"He's only sitting next to her."

He pointed at you. "Did you see that? He offered her his drink!"

"Yeah..." Q sighed. "Not jealous."

Back to you and Yuri, she abruptly got up announcing practice for the talent show was about to start. She gave you an intense look and you knew what she was doing. It most likely was not time for practice but this was your opportunity to get away from this awkward situation.

"Right, we have to go." you coughed out.

"And I'll help you get ready for your date after." she added and your eyes grew bigger at her.

"Ah." Byungwon said, slightly disappointed. "You and Min Ho are real serious."

"They are." Yuri nodded. "Let's go. See you around!"

She crossed her arm with yours before you went out of the cafeteria. You could do nothing more but follow her lead.

"I swear I thought you were going to make him make a move on me."

She laughed. "I might not think Min Ho is the best guy to date, but I know you love him. Plus, it's not the first time I've seen Byungwon look at you like that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But now, that means you have no choice but to participate in the fan dance with us."

You groaned in defeat. As much as you loved her for saving your ass, you also hated her.

"Hi, baby."

"Hey-"

You were cut short as Min Ho eagerly kissed you, long enough for people around to either giggle at you or make noises of disgust. It wasn't an innocent kiss either, he was going for it.

"I missed you." he said after pulling back but still holding your hand to walk with you to the auditorium.

"You saw me this morning."

"Not in front of swimmer guy."

Your eyes shut closed. "You saw that, the other day."

"Yeah." Min Ho said as a matter-of-factly. "And I did not appreciate him eyeing my girlfriend like she is some meat."

You patted his shoulder. "Awe, is my little pup possessive?"

He glared at you. "I thought we agreed on stopping with this nickname. Makes us sound like we are furries or something."

You shrugged. "I still like it. But thank Yuri, she's the one who saved me from him that day."

He kissed the top of your head. "Glad to know she's on our side. Now, how are you feeling?"

"Ashamed, depressed, and on the verge of crying."

He frowned. "I'm not sure if you are referring to your feelings towards the wait for your grades or the talent show."

"Can't it be both?"

He laughed and rubbed your hand softly with his thumb. "You'll do great, for both of them."

While he was not allowed to, Min Ho insisted profoundly in coming with you backstage. Saying he didn't want to watch the whole thing and only your performance so you could leave together in advance, he was only disappointed when you sent him back to his seat with Dae.

You walked up to Madison who was crouched next to a machine. "Hey, what are you doing?"

She squealed. "Fireworks, for my next performance."

"You perform twice?"

"Yeah, K-pop."

You rolled your eyes and gave her the fans. Of course she had to do a K-pop dance. You finished up to get ready by fixing parts of your hanbok.

"Yuri-ah."

You weren't sure what Principal Lim was doing backstage to run to her daughter, especially since they hadn't talked since Yuri moved in with you.

"I want you to come back home." she continued but Yuri only gave her the eyeroll. "I'll talk to Alex. I'll make sure you can get to know him."

"Alex?" she said in confusion. "Alex, who?"

Principle Lim froze. "Oh, I just assumed that Kitty-"

"Wait, Alex is my brother?"

And here was another drama happening right in front of you. You learned your lesson to not get involved, so you went to the other girls to ignore what was happening. It wasn't even a minute later that you were up to go on stage. You wanted to bury yourself alive from how embarrassed you were. Not because you were ashamed of your culture, but you weren't a dancer. This was, in no way, one of your strengths.

"How could you not tell me?" Yuri spoke as the performance began.

You tried your best to block them out but they weren't so quiet.

"I thought Alex was my brother and that my mom was the one who was pregnant." Kitty explained. "It wasn't until we snuck out of detention that day and went to Lee's house-"

"Wait, you've known since detention?"

You subtly shushed them and went on to your next move. They seemed to get the message and you were happily back to focusing on your dance.

"How could you hide this from me?"

You mentally cursed them out.

"It wasn't my place to-"

"To be honest?

Madison groaned. "Guys, I'm trying to focus."

This might have been one of the few times you were thankful to her. But your friends being themselves, they continued to bicker.

"I wasn't not honest, I just-"

"Lied by omission?" Yuri interrupted her again.

"You lied all semester about being with Dae on purpose, and I got past it, and now we're friends."

"We were friends." Yuri corrected her.

And with Kitty being Kitty, she clumsily stepped on her robes and tripped, knocking off the firework machine. Fire came out and the whole auditorium stood up in panic, Kitty first as the fabric of her hanbok caught on fire. She stepped back, panic across her face as she stared at the flame. You looked from afar, worried about her and unsure if you should put yourself in danger as well to help her.

You got your answer quickly when you saw your boyfriend running to her. He took his jacket off as he help her sit down on the ground, and crouched down while putting the fire out. She squirmed for a bit until there was no more flame. You observed them as he helped her relax and something seemed off to you. You weren't exactly sure what, but you knew it made you feel sick. It wasn't until Dae arrived that Min Ho went to you, hugging you tightly.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt?"

You didn't hug him back and only nodded. "I'm fine."

He placed his hands on your cheeks. "This girl is so clumsy, she could have put all of you in grave danger."

You cleared your throat. "Yeah, luckily, you saved her."

You pushed his hands away and walked further from the stage. He caught up with your pace and took your hand.

"Hey, are you sure you're good?"

You didn't know what to say. You only stared at him in silence, feeling the lump in your throat growing bigger and bigger.

Copyright © 2023 skzhua. All rights reserved.

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

17. 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽

From that moment on, (Y/n) clung to the new arrivant. While Dorian was relieved to know his partner had gotten over his initial dislike for the girl, he wondered what had been the catalyst for this change. The other day, the child had another nightmare. In the middle of the day, she had entered their room and made a beeline for Killian's coffin. The dark haired vampire had comforted her, while Dorian had smiled at the sight fondly. He preferred not to dwell too much on the cause of this positive outcome ; it was better not to look a gift horse in the mouth, as they said. Everything was good; everyone was in their place. It was almost perfect.

The girl would turn twelve in two weeks and the next blood moon would be a week after that. He knew Killian probably still planned to leave, but Dorian knew the other vampire well. His dear companion was so predictable. His compassion would make him stay. For their girl. He wouldn’t leave her. The blond just had to find a way to make him stay until the girl's turning.

He gazed out one of the study's windows and observed the silhouette riding on a horse outside in the night. He smiled, resting his chin on his hand as he followed Killian's path with his eyes. The dark haired vampire had always been one for the outdoors, even as a human. He had fascinated Dorian, and still did to this day. He could still vividly remember their first meeting, a memory that would never leave him.

· • —– ٠ ⏳ ٠ —– • ·

Humans, Dorian found, were quite interesting beings; they had this way of living — always in motion — that baffled him. Despite the specter of impermanence hanging over them, humans embraced life with a tenacity that Dorian found intriguing. They indulged in pleasures, sought out joys, and painted their existence with vibrant hues of experiences. It was a paradox that resonated with him on a profound level — the knowledge of an eventual end, yet an unwavering commitment to savoring every fleeting moment. It made him wonder if he had acted the same way once. 

There was a time, one or two forevers ago, when he too had been part of this vibrant dance of life. He had been human, a mere mortal swept up in the currents of time. He didn't remember much of his time as a human; his turning had erased most of his memories. Disappeared in an ember, a burned tableau turned to ashes dissolving in the wind of eternal change, leaving behind a void where his mortal past once thrived. He had started anew as a blank canvas; his own sire abandoning him carelessly only days following his turning.

"Tell me more about yourself, Monsieur de Beauvoir," a voice pierced through his contemplations, and he turned to regard the lady who had initiated the inquiry. Despite his charming smile, her name had already slipped through the crevices of his recollection.

"I am sure there are more interesting discussions than listening to the stories of a man such as myself, milady," he responded in a melodious voice.

The human giggled, as if that had been the funniest joke she had heard. "You are too humble, Duke de Beauvoir," she gushed. "What brought a Frenchman such as yourself to England ?" The lady asked, stepping closer.

 "I merely wished for a change of scenery," he replied vaguely, his tone carrying an air of mystery that only fueled the lady's curiosity.

The lady's words, laced with a hint of flirtation and delivered in a sultry voice, hung in the air like a delicate perfume, enveloping the space between them. "A great reason to make new acquaintances," she insinuated, her gaze locked with Dorian's, her proximity closing the gap between them.

In response, Dorian allowed a playful glint to flicker in his eyes, acknowledging the unspoken invitation. He was always willing to be entertained. He considered the possibility of continuing their exchange in a quieter corner of the palace, away from the prying eyes and curious gazes of the other attendants.

"A great way indeed," added a new person who inserted himself into the conversation, "Charlotte, why don't you introduce me to this fine gentleman ?" 

Dorian, accustomed to the art of captivating an audience, turned around with practiced grace, ready to unleash his signature charming smile. The voice that had interrupted their conversation had piqued his interest, and he welcomed the attention with a subtle anticipation. Among vampires, pride was a prevailing trait, and Dorian, in particular, relished the spotlight. The knowledge that others hung on his every word, that he could control the narrative and reveal only what he wished, provided him with an exhilarating rush.

As he prepared to unveil his charismatic persona, Dorian's poised demeanor faltered ever so slightly at the sight before him. Long wavy auburn hair lazily gracing his shoulders; sharp yet beautiful features and striking hazel eyes. Truly, a sight to behold. True beauty was something hard to come across, yet here it presented itself to him, in such unforeseen circumstances. The mortal put an arm protectively around the lady’s shoulders and Dorian narrowed his eyes slightly, unsure of their bond.

"Brother," Charlotte greeted with warmth, introducing the mysterious man at her side. "This is Duke Dorian de Beauvoir."

Dorian inclined his head with a polite acknowledgment, his charming smile remaining intact. "Bonsoir, it is a pleasure to meet you," he trailed off, trying to catch the name of the stranger.

"Killian," he supplied. "Killian Ambrose-Hart."

"Ambrose," he mused inwardly. An ancient name, steeped in history, meaning Immortal. Everlasting. The serendipity of the encounter was not lost on Dorian. His lips curled up. This must have been fated. Dorian's eyes, still retaining their playful gleam, lingered on Killian for a moment longer. 

"Why don't you join us," the blond suggested, gesturing at an empty seat at their table.

"Brother, sir de Beauvoir is from France," Charlotte informed him. "He was about to tell me more about himself."

"Nothing quite interesting, I'm afraid," he responded a bit dismissively, turning his attention back on the brother who had sat down reluctantly. "London is grand and lively, nothing like what I am used to from France. I would need someone to show me around to get accustomed to the new scenery."

When the other didn't seem to get the hint, the conversation continued, the sister trying to get Dorian's attention while he had been ensnared by the unsuspecting brother. The siblings eventually departed and the blond was left bitter.

Now that Dorian knew he existed, no other man would suffice. The heart wanted what it wanted, and his ? Well, his wanted this elusive human.

· • —– ٠ ⌛️ ٠ —– • ·

"Are you almost done ?" (Y/n)'s modulated voice brought him back to reality.

His eyes landed on her, adorning a magnificent rose red dress that complimented her complexion. She posed on a black chair, elegant and youthful. He looked back at his tableau.

His first and last human portrait of her. Her skin still glowed with colorful warm hues, her eyes lacked any hint of red and her teeth were dull compared to that of vampires. He rarely captured life, but he was willing to make an exception for his child. Soon she would be different. For the better, but nonetheless different.

He wondered how she would react to her turning. He would ensure it would be as painless as he possibly could. This would certainly be a night to remember, and perhaps even the first she would remember. Dorian wondered if like him, she would be among the few who lost their memory of their human life following their turning. He hoped she would. Starting anew with her would be the greatest gift that could be given to him. He could educate and mold her properly; no pesky memories of her parents and her peasant life. She would only know him and Killian.

He turned back towards her. "Not yet, doll," he answered and chuckled as she sighed. "Be patient— and smile."

"Do you often paint ?" She asked, perhaps trying to make the time pass faster.

"For as long as I can remember," he answered. A talent he must had retained from his human life, he supposed. "All paintings on display on this floor were made by me."

"Really ?" She turned around, pointing at one portrait of him and Killian in the room. "Even this one ?"

"Indeed," he confirmed with a smile, then added: "Stop moving, doll."

"Isn't it easier to bring in a painter to paint you and him together ?" (Y/n) asked, settling back into place.

"We tried," he acknowledged, "but we found mine always turned out better."

Painters had this ability of picking up small details most didn't see. Teeth too white, fangs too sharp, skin taking a deathly color. They saw too much. They showed too much. They accentuated it all too much, peeling away the carefully crafted façade created by them. Presenting what wasn’t meant to be shown ; what they didn’t want to be shown.

"They really are pretty," she complimented.

"Thank you," he smiled. "We are almost done."

[beanghostprincess]

Usopp's constant negativity and anxiety are something useful and "positive" at the end of the day (eg: fight against Perona) because he doesn't necessarily need to change his views, he just needs to trust himself and his abilities more and he just uses what he has at the moment which is, you know, negativity. It is not something positive but it does keep him safe from danger and he will end up being proud of himself and stronger than he could ever imagine, but that doesn't mean he'll stop being negative. It's just another personality trait a lot of people have, and Usopp using it for his advantage is something great, I feel. He takes pride in being like that. He's loud and shameless about it.

Unlike Sanji, who dwells on his negativity on his own. Quietly. And lets it consume him without having any power over it. His self-sabotaging and self-sacrificing behavior often comes from a place of giving up out of fear of others getting hurt to save him because that's pretty much his core fear. Being a burden/Not being able to save the people he cares about from himself and his past. It's not something the manga shows that much in comparison to Usopp's negativity, but Sanji's pessimistic views are pretty much one of the reasons why WCI happens and why he puts himself in the worst situation in Wano.

And I think (this is why I'm writing all of this) that they're perfect for each other because Usopp could show him that being afraid and negative isn't something so bad. After all, at least Usopp is aware that if he can't do something, the crew will help him out no matter what. Usopp's negative, yes, but it's alright because he doesn't go through it on his own. Even if he does look shameless and "selfish" when desperately asking for help (he isn't, by the way. It's actually pretty reasonable to act like that). Sanji needs to learn to ask for help shamelessly too and he needs to stop putting all the weight of the world's negativity on his shoulders. They need to carry it together.

Like- There's just something so personal in Usopp going "Yes! I am scared. Frightened even. Please, help!" because he might not like that part of him and he's trying to be stronger and more independent every day, but he acknowledges that things can go south and his reaction is very fight or flight but pretty mostly flight to be safe. While Sanji's response is always to fight because he refuses to let others know he needs help in case something happens to them (and also because he feels ashamed of feeling weak). Usopp shares the responsibility and accepts that he's kind of a loser sometimes but Sanji refuses to do so.

This is just a thought about Sanji learning that being a coward and asking for help isn't bad because they're meant to do stuff like that, and Usopp growing to be stronger and independent but not necessarily stop being pessimistic because sometimes you just... Are like that. Sometimes you're scared. Sometimes you have anxiety. And that's alright. You can be strong anyway.

[heliomanteia]

ngl its nice to finally see some actual analysis/understanding for Calypso compared to the rest of the fandom's immediate hatred and demonizing. All the other gods in Epic do just as terrible things to Odysseus but they get so much adoration from the fandom regardless of that. I'm just so confused on why the sudden hatred for this one goddess in particular came from. I could understand if it was just people reacting emotionally to Calypso's actions, but this feels different from that. What is it about this goddess that makes everyone react borderline violently?

"We need more complex female characters" — "you couldn't even handle Calypso" etc.

Calypso (overall but specifically her Epic self as the musical expands on her feelings) is very, very interesting to me.

I think part of the reason behind the fandom's reaction is the expected knee-jerk response to a character implied to sexually force another person. It's very hard for people to look past that veil and try to analyze the character beyond that surface level. I know that Epic is rather vague with what Calypso did/did not do but I choose to believe at least some physical intimacy is implied by both Love in Paradise and Not Sorry for Loving You. Even if not, it's still imprisonment — something very common in mythology, as you point out, though it's extremely rare that it's coming from a woman towards a man.

I don't know if it's deeper than that or not because Epic portrayed her pretty accurately to the source. People seem to very eagerly accept Circe and Circe's perspective despite it also coming from the place of power imbalance and intimidation, probably because the musical offered her narrative from a more sympathetic side. Maybe it's because most people sympathize with Odysseus? I personally think that he gets exactly what he worked for. I don't hate him but he's also not my poor baby boy either, #TrojanSquad

Also, I would be more willing to side with the "black and white" thinkers if this was a mortal character. Like, I understand people that have very strong feelings about Antinous (sort of, since Epic removed his young(er) age) because he's mortal and he's overstepping boundaries known to him and understood by him. But Calypso is a Goddess/Nymph and there's a lot of theory regarding the reception of the narrative of divine-to-mortal assault/enforcing of anything.

Calypso was not analyzed from her POV before Epic. In the Odyssey, she's a narrative tool: the perfect maiden (literally perfectly concealed! in ancient logic, any man would want her) who has not known anyone prior to Odysseus offering him dwelling, family, and immortality. Odysseus rejecting her is him rejecting every gift a man can have; much like with the Sirens, though then he was held back. The Odyssey is a big, long journey through various obstacles and rejection/overcoming of said obstacles and Calypso has no voice in that story, in a way. We knew nothing about her feelings aside from her showing frustration that Gods seem to have such an issue with Goddesses taking in lovers (much like you do, isn't it ironic).

Epic explores her as unapologetic and her feelings as genuine while also showing her actions as wrong (though she does not agree). I love it. Love fucking sucks sometimes, you know? People do cruel, horrible things justified by love (even Odysseus himself, Mr. "I will do anything to be with my wife, even war crimes"). There's so much to explore about her character because she literally has close to no known lore.

Thank you for sending it in, I'm rotating her in my head.

[starlordcumidk]

New Kind of Love

~prologue~

word count: 1.1k

notes: slight ooc, reader wears glasses, this is an AU of TASM!Peter where he is a fraternity brother. reader is portrayed as rude/stand-offish. please read this knowing that i am a newer author and the plot is based on a song. theres a playlist currently in the works for this that will be posted at the end of every chapter once it's created. thank you for supporting me and my work. hope you enjoy <33

warnings: mentions of spiders and brief mention of cannibalistic behaviors of spiders.

Thurs. May 9th, 2024

The air felt wet as you opened your window, looking at the ESU campus from the second floor of Siebert hall. Your dorm room was infested with your neighbors latest light up session, and you just needed the fresh air. 

The semester was so close to ending, and you were glad to be so close to going home. In truth, you wasted no time tonight, cleaning and packing your things even if you didn’t leave for three more days. You were just excited to go home again.

May had brought more greenery and activity back to New York, spring pulling out its prettiest florals and faunas. From your dorm window, you only got the sight of the court-yard, which had very little floral bushes and a tall sycamore in the middle. However, the view was perfect for people watching. 

There were multiple break-ups, gossip sessions, love-at-first-sight’s and study sessions you’d witnessed through the year. A small part of you hoped you’d be lucky enough to get a room like this again next year. 

As you looked at the shubbery and through humidity you noticed a guy standing in the grass patch that broke the brick flooring of the courtyard, gently touching the leaves of the tree that sat there. He was taller, had pretty brown hair and was wearing what seemed to be a university hoodie. 

The tree he was next to was notorious for harboring the spiders that loved to sneak their way into the dorms. The image of the little beasts made your stomach turn, thinking about being that close to one of those stupid things worsened it. But he reached out, grabbing one of them. 

The grimace in your face was apparent but you were intrigued now, the small fuzzy thing crawling all over his hand. Something in you wanted to get a closer look, your glasses slipping down your nose a bit as you lean out. He looked so… focused, almost as if he was studying the way it moved. For some reason, you couldn’t look away.

After a good ten or fifteen minutes of staring out, observing the weird spider-guy, your glasses lip enough that they fall off your nose. You gasp, reaching to try and grab them but there’s a small thump on the grass. With furrowed brows, he turns his head and looks right at you, then down towards the ground. Quickly you straighten your back and take a step away from the window, you were definitely caught.

“You good?” The voice is smooth and distant, seeping into your room from the courtyard. Fuck, you didn’t want to answer that. You didn’t want to talk to him at all. 

“Yep.” Is the best you could muster. 

“You uh… dropped something.” The voice was closer now. There was a beat before he spoke up again. “Do you want me to throw them up to you?” 

“No. That’s stupid?” Shit, that sounded too mean. “I mean- I’ll just come grab them.”

There was no reply, so you assumed he had left. With a slight reluctance, you carry yourself into the elevator, pressing the ground floor’s button and wishing you hadn’t been so captivated by his stupid hair or the way he held those stupid spiders. 

Before you could dwell on it too hard, the doors swung open and you were met with the biggest brown eyes you’ve ever seen on a person. It took a minute to register, but the doe-eyed person in front of you was definitely the same guy with the sycamore tree and spider. But this close, you could see small specks of blonde dusting the tips of his wavy hair. Upon further inspection, the hoodie he was wearing was of the biggest frat on campus, Phi Kappa Nu. 

“Hey! You dropped your glasses right?” He said it with a smile before reaching into his hoodie pocket and pulling out the familiar frame. “They broke a little but here. I was gonna try and bring them up for you.”

“You don’t know my dorm number.” It came out harsh but you meant it, grabbing the frame from his hand and looking them over. 

“Oh, I counted the windows.” A nonchalant shrug and his smile fading a bit follow his words before he takes a step back. 

“That’s totally not creepy.” Your brows were furrowed, glancing up at him for a second before back down at your frames. There was a lens missing and you felt your body recoil at the thought of having to find it in that tall ass grass. With a few steps, you pushed past him, the smell of warm honey and pine trees enveloping your nose. 

“Well, maybe. But you started it.” He said it gently, walking a few steps behind you. “I recall you watching me from your window.” 

You shoot a glare back at him before kneeling in the grass, your hand gently pushing different spots aside. “You say that but I wouldn’t have been if you weren’t playing with fucking arachnids.”

“I wasn’t playing with them.” Spider-guy shrugged with a small laugh. “I was just getting a closer look. You know, they have some pretty cool attributes, the ones here are brown recluses. They cannibalise eachother and have a really bad bite.”

There's no way to stop the eyeroll you do as you keep digging for the missing lens, sighing internally at the fact you were stupid enough to drop your only pair of glasses from almost 20 feet in the air. “Wow. Fascinating, thanks for that awful image, spider-guy.”

“I prefer Peter, but you’re welcome.” Peter says before leaning over your hunched body and pointing at a spot just left of where you’re looking. And there's the missing lens. 

“Okay, Peter, I have to go finish packing my dorm.” You swiftly grab the lens and look over the different pieces of your glasses, puzzling them back together in your mind. After a moment, you just start to walk back towards the elevator, not really wanting to look back at him. 

“Wait- hey, no thank you?” He called after you, but you just kept walking, not really wanting to talk to him anymore. “No introduction?” He said a little louder, hoping you’d hear him as you turned to go into the elevator.

You looked back once, seeing an amused expression at you. God you hated this, to you he was some frat boy and he was finding pleasure in your shortcomings. There was slight anger bubbling in your chest as you looked over at him before smashing the button to call the elevator. 

The doors opened and before stepping in, you gave him a purposefully pained smile. There was no need for introductions or thank you’s, from this moment on you were back to strangers. The summer was starting and you’d both forget eachother by fall anyways. So you click the button to go back to your dorm.