#Now it's the ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE FALL

[alia-alia12]

𖧹katsuki bakugou x fem reader

𖧹smut; katsuki makes you record him eating you out.

𖧹1.0k

𖧹mdni

“just like that” he says, red eyes glancing at the phone in your hand, the camera pulled up as you zoom in on the way his lips ghost over your cunt. “make sure you hold it still."

he's scheduled for a two week long mission out of the country and he needs something to tie him over.

you try— really try to keep the camera steady, but the first swipe of his tongue through your slick folds has you gasping, your entire body jolting as the camera tilts upward, catching only the crown of his spiky blonde hair. his tongue is hot, firm, and deliberate as it drags from your entrance to your clit, circling it just enough to tease but not enough to satisfy.

"fuck," you breathe, scrambling to fix the angle. you bring the phone down, focusing on his sharp jaw and the way it moves as he devours you, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck softly. you can barely suppress the moan that builds in your throat, your head pressing back into the pillow as your chest heaves.

katsuki doesn't let up, his tongue swirling around your sensitive nub with maddening precision. the lewd sounds of his mouth- wet, sticky, and unrelenting-are captured perfectly by the microphone, the obscene audio only adding to your growing arousal.

you’re so lost in the pleasure that you forget what you’re supposed to be doing, letting the phone in your hand drop until nothing but darkness can be seen.

his mouth pulls away with an audible pop, and your hazy eyes snap open at the sudden loss of contact. his brow furrows, a sharp growl rumbling from his chest. "don't make me fucking repeat myself," he snaps, his voice gruff and commanding, but the fire in his gaze betrays just how much he's enjoying watching you squirm.

he reaches up, gripping your wrist with his calloused fingers to guide your hand—and the phone— back to where he wants it. "hold it steady, or i'll make you start all over."

you whimper softly at his words, the threat sending a shiver down your spine. his eyes flash with mischief as he watches you struggle to comply, your hand trembling with the effort to keep the camera on him.

"good," he mutters, dipping his head back down between your thighs. "now don't fuck it up again."

his tongue returns to your clit, flicking and swirling and sucking with a precision that has your thighs threatening to clamp tightly around his head. his blonde hair tickles your inner thighs and the phone shakes slightly.

"katsuki," you moan, your voice high-pitched and breathless. he growls in response, his eyes snapping up to meet yours through the lens of the phone. the intensity in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly. you look away.

"look at me," he commands, pulling back just enough to catch his breath. his lips are glistening, his face slick with your arousal as he nips at your inner thigh. "i want you to see this. I want you to remember who makes you fall apart like this when I'm gone."

his possessiveness ignites something inside you, and you nod weakly, barely able to process his words as his tongue returns to its assault. he's ruthless now, his movements faster and more deliberate, his lips and tongue working in tandem to push you closer to the edge. the knot in your stomach tightens, your legs beginning to shake as pleasure consumes you.

he chuckles against your core, the vibrations only adding to the unbearable pleasure. the wet sounds of his mouth working your over are obscene, loud enough to be caught on the recording. you can barely focus on keeping your composure, let alone holding the phone steady.

"you close, baby?" he asks, his voice muffled as he sucks your clit into his mouth. "I can feel you shaking. come on, let it go. let me hear those pretty fucking sounds as you cum on my tongue."

his words are your undoing. your back arches off the bed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as your climax crashes over you. the phone trembles in your hand, your grip faltering as waves of pleasure roll through you. he doesn't stop, his tongue continuing to lap at you, dragging out your orgasm until you're left a trembling, gasping mess.

when he finally pulls away, his lips are curved into a smug grin, face coated in your arousal and he couldn't look happier. "good girl," he praises, his voice low and husky. he takes the phone from your weak grip, tapping the screen to review the footage with a satisfied hum. "this'll keep me entertained while I'm gone."

you collapse back onto the bed, utterly spent, chest heaving as you catch your breath. katsuki sets the phone on the nightstand, crawling up your body until his lips hover over yours. he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, before pulling back just enough to whisper against your mouth.

"don't think we're done yet," he murmurs, his tone dark and teasing. "i've got a whole week to make up for. might as well record me fucking that tight little pussy next."

his words make your breath hitch, and you can't help the shiver that runs through you as he smirks, his hands already roaming your body in preparation for round two.

[chaepink]

Sub bully gojo like he was planning on fucking and bullying reader when the opposite went way? Like reader had enough of his bullshit and makes him cry and overstimulates him?

Loser | sub!gojo satoru

wc: 2.9k+ words | masterlist

dom!gn!reader, mean!reader -> soft!reader, bully!gojo kinda but he’s more annoying then actually bullying, crying, footjob except he’s clothed, cumming in pants, college au, edging, comparing gojo to a puppy, degradation, praise, exhibitionism, overstimulation, knocking Gojo down a peg, teasing, cursing, mention of reader being shorter than gojo but not important, ooc gojo(?)

note : the writing may be weird… its been a while 😬

"Well well well, look who it is!" You grimace at the all too familiar voice and try to quickly turn the corner but a hand grabs your hand and turns you around, causing you to stumble back slightly but you catch yourself in time.

Furrowing your eyebrows and frowning in annoyance, you eye the person who stopped you: Gojo fucking Satoru. He’s the guy who’s been making your college life a living hell ever since he found out you two went to the same high school. Even though there were several other students here who also went to the same high school, he decided to annoy you for some reason.

The other students in the hallway quickly shuffle to their next classes or to lunch, too afraid to say something that’ll result in Gojo picking on them instead. Of course, they're scared, Gojo is known as a bully who somehow has good relationships with the teachers, an advantage he uses daily. The hallway is deserted now with only you two standing in. You hear the bell ring loudly throughout and your eyes dart to the clock on the wall. Damn it, you’re late to class now.

“Hey! Look at me, bitch.” You scowl deeply as your attention turns back to Gojo. You wonder if he’s aware of his childish personality or not. You assume he doesn’t by the way he continues to act like a toddler.

“What the hell do you want?” You reply, annoyance clear as day on your face. A grin spreads across his face when he sees your attention back on him. God, he loves the way you look at him like that. He quickly shoves the thought to the back of his head.

“In a bad mood today, huh?” He teases, that annoying grin still prominent on his face and you clench your fist into a ball, wanting to punch that grin off his stupid face though you know you can’t. He would just go running to the teachers and higher-ups and get you in trouble somehow.

You let out a small scoff and continue to glare at him before he talks again.

“What? You really think I’m gonna annoy you today?” He smirks and slowly walks closer to you but you grimace. He leans his head down slightly and you frown deeper. You’re already annoying me with your presence, you want to say.

“You should smile more, it’ll make you more pleasant to look at for once, [name]-” He could barely finish his sentence before your anger got the best of you. How dare he act like nothing’s happened?

“What is your fucking problem, you bastard?” You sneer at him as you shove his chest hard, causing him to widen his eyes at your sudden action and stumble backwards before tripping over his feet and falling to the ground on his bottom, his feet on the floor with his knees bent towards the ceiling and his hands behind him to stabilize himself. His legs are spread out slightly and he winces at the sudden impact.

If your mind wasn’t so flooded with anger right now, you would think that Gojo looks rather hot on the ground staring up at you with a flushed face and widened eyes.

Shit, he didn’t mean for you to get this pissed off. He was planning to ask you to come over to his house later or something. Usually you just ignore him and walk off quietly, he didn’t expect this at all. Why are you getting mad? Haven’t you gotten the hint that he bullies you cause he likes you?

You step a foot down awfully near his crotch and he flinches, staring at it with a red face but you don’t notice. You see his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallows harshly. He looks back up at you but quickly looks away when he sees you staring at him so intensely and you’re surprised just how easily he shut up from a simple shove to the ground. Maybe he’s more simple than you thought.

You see his chest rise up and down quickly. The silence is thick and heavy in the air with the sound of his breathing and your own heart beating rapidly in your chest the only noises you hear. The way he refuses to look at you, how red he is, and the way his legs slightly tremble gives you the wrong idea.

Does… seeing you towering over him and staring down at him turn him on somehow? No way, you think.

But when your eyes trail down from his still flushed face down his body and to the place between his spread legs, your idea is confirmed.

“Who said you could get fucking hard right now?” Gojo flinches and his eyes widen, quickly looking down at the rather large bulge in his pants. He tries to cover it with his hands but you quickly kick them away, resulting in his legs spreading even further apart.

Good thing that you’re at one of the more secluded and quiet areas of the school and that not many students nor teachers have classes here.

It’s odd. It’s really odd. How although he could easily get up and run away or even shove you back and say some mean things to you again, he’s not. He’s not doing any of that, just sitting on the ground in front of you like he enjoys it. And a part of you is starting to enjoy the situation as well.

You suddenly remember how although there’s no one in the hallway, there are still some students and teachers in the classrooms near you guys. It seems you two haven’t been loud enough to attract their attention but you know that at any moment, someone could step out into the hallway and spot you two. Though the thought just spurs you on even more.

He hesitates before glancing up at you and swallows again before glancing back at your shoe and it gives you an idea. Without thinking, you lift your foot and press it down on his crotch. The action immediately makes Gojo let out a deep groan and cover his mouth with his hand, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. The sight makes something in your stomach stir although you are still annoyed by his past actions.

Slowly, he opens his eyes back and stares at you, his eyes more soft than before. He puts his hand down and opens his mouth to talk but you notice how he hesitates.

“C-Could we ngh do this in a classroom-“

You quickly cut him off with a scoff. “Really? Do you really think I’m gonna take pity on you after you annoyed me everyday of my college life? It’s not my fault you got hard from just a shove.” You sneer in disgust, making Gojo shiver. “Maybe I should return the favor somehow.” Gojo’s breath hitches in his throat when he sees the anger in your eyes and the way you’re glaring down at him like he’s some sort of useless piece of trash. He feels something throb in his pants.

You suddenly smirk and Gojo has to hold back a whine from the way you look so scary but so hot at the same time.

“I wonder what everyone would think if they were to see you right now, pitifully on the floor like a fucking puppy,” you spit out.

Gojo squeezes his eyes shut, not wanting to imagine the sheer shock on everyone’s faces if they were to stumble across him like this in the hallway. But oh God, the way you compare him to a puppy has his stomach fluttering and something else throbbing again.

He opens his eyes again and lets out the most pitiful whine you’ve ever heard and oh does it sound heavenly coming from someone you despise.

“Please?” You contemplate it. As much as you would rather stay in the hallway and ruin him here, you know that if you two were to be caught, you would face suspension and it would ruin your reputation even more. With a sigh and frown, you glance around and spot a dark classroom. Bingo.

You point to it and Gojo’s eyes dart to the empty room, his breathing still fast. He quickly understands it and slowly gets up from the floor.

“Go inside.” It wasn’t a statement, it was an order. He nods and he walks in, glancing behind him to make sure you’re following him inside. As you go into the room, you close the door and lock it, turning back to see Gojo already on the floor on his knees and it makes your heart quicken.

Walking up to him, you before him and immediately return your foot back on his crotch and press down. Gojo lets out a breathy curse from his lips and gasps, his hands obediently at his sides, clenching into fists tightly.

He’s embarrassed at himself for being so easy for you, already at your knees after his plan backfired on him but he’s not complaining. Not when your foot presses down harder which forces a moan out from him and makes his mind foggy. He’s close already. He tells you that and he blushes when you laugh.

“Already? How pathetic,” you tease. “And I thought I would at least get to see you naked first.” The idea of him being fully naked and you fully clothed makes him whimper and he’s quick to open his mouth to beg to get naked for you but you cut him off.

“But I don't think you deserve it after everything you’ve done. You’ll cum from my foot and without taking a piece of clothing off, understood?” He nods before he understands what you said and widens his eyes when he processes it.

“But-” “But?” You raise an eyebrow, daring him to disagree which shuts him right up. You smile and grind your shoe back down on his bulge. “Good, now go on. I know you’re just aching to get some friction, yeah?”

He nods again and doesn’t hesitate for a moment before bucking his hips up against your foot, letting out a soft cry as the pleasure shoots through his body. You keep your foot still and let him do all the work and he lets out a loud moan when a particular thrust has his precum leaking out and dampening his pants.

You feel him twitch underneath your foot and smirk in amusement. “Quiet now, it's still school time, remember?” The reminder has him whimpering, wanting to let out loud noises for you but understanding the environment. You can tell he’s close from the way he’s practically begging with those puppy eyes of his.

“P-Please?” “Please what, Gojo?” He lets out another soft cry, the pleasure being too much. His mind is so foggy from the fact that you two are in an empty classroom and can get caught at any moment and how he can’t let out loud noises like he wants and the feeling of his dick being so hard, it hurts.

And now you’re teasing him. How mean, he wants to say to you. But the chances that you get mad again and leave him here in the classroom by himself with a hard dick is too high. So he begs.

“Please let me cum? Please? I-I’ve been good-” You laugh again. He hasn’t been good at all to you but he has been good at not touching you and keeping quiet. So maybe you’ll take pity on him. Maybe.

“Hm should I?” You pretend to think and Gojo moans, his pace quickening against your foot and he nods frantically. “I don’t think I should.” The second you take your foot off him, Gojo swears he’s close to crying right then and there. His hands subconsciously dart out from his sides to reach for your ankle but your sharp glare stops him.

So instead, he whimpers as tears prickle the corner of his eyes, his dick aching for release. You smirk at the sight.

“Beg for it, Gojo. Unless you want me to leave.” He obeys yet again, almost too eagerly this time that it almost makes you laugh. Geez, knocking Gojo down his high horse is way more fun than you thought it would be.

“[Name] please? Please please please i'll be such a good boy for you i promise!” It’s cute, seeing his glossy eyes and parted lips as he pants like a puppy for you. You swear you see a glimpse of a tail behind him wagging eagerly.

“Do whatever you want to me! Just let me cum, please!” With a smile, you place your foot back on his bulge and press down hard.

He throws his head back with a whimper and he swears he sees stars as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Ah!- T-Thank you ngh” He goes back to his previous quick pace again and it’s not long till he’s close again. He squeezes his eyes shut, not trusting himself to not have them roll back and he hesitantly places his hands around your ankle to keep it there, refusing for you to pull away again. You click your tongue in disapproval but don’t say anything about it which he is grateful about.

“I’m gonna cum im gonna cum-” He babbles out as he continues to rut against your foot like a dog in heat. “Such a good boy for me, telling me that you’re close and not cuming without permission.,” you praise and you swear his hips stutters at that. A sucker for praise, it seems.

His eyes shoot open and it's clear what he’s begging for. “Go on, cum.”

And he does almost immediately. One of his hands shoots up to cover his mouth as he muffles his choked moans and whimpers and your eyes look down to see the spot where his crotch is quickly dampening as he cums.

But you don’t stop, you actually speed up. Gojo feels your foot continuing to grind down on his now damp crotch and he can barely hold on, his hand dropping from his mouth back to hastily hold onto your leg. His eyes widen and curses sputter out of his mouth in stutters.

“S-Shit wait! I’m ngh not ready-” You grab a handful of his hair and yank on it hard, forcing him to look directly at you and let out a rather loud whine. He stares at you with tears ready to fall down his face and oh does he look good like this. He’s on his knees, his hips bucking up to your foot as if he didn’t just say he’s not ready, face flushed such a pretty pink as he stares up at you like you own him. The tight grip you have on his hair has his scalp prickling in pain in such a good way that he almost begs for you to yank harder but another moan escapes him before he can.

“Come on, you were begging so nicely earlier,” you say mockingly, a feign pout on your face as you stare down at the once confident man. “Don’t you want to cum again? I think you got some more in you, yeah?”

He immediately nods and lets out a cry when you step down even harder on his clothed dick and pull on his hair harder. Shit, he’s already close again, the overstimulation getting to him and making it feel all so much better. He can barely even talk or speak full sentences anymore, only letting out mainly whines and whimpers and a few babbles here and there.

Each tug of your hand, grind of your shoe, and praise or degradation you graciously give to him has him soon crying out of pure pleasure. Tears streak down his face slowly as he gets closer to cumming again. You’re almost jealous of how pretty he still is while crying.

“Cum.” That’s all he needs to hear before his hips stutter again and he lets out a quiet sob, cumming for the second time and staining his pants even more.

His pace slows down before stopping, his breath slowing down. He slowly leans forward to lean his cheek against your leg and your breath hitches at the sight. You can feel his hot breath against your leg as he stares up at you with hooded eyes and flushed cheeks. He’s mumbling under his breath and you swear you hear “thank you’s” coming out quietly.

You can’t help but lean down slightly and run your hand through his hair, hearing a soft hum coming from him as he sighs when your hand moves down to caress his damp cheek, nuzzling against it.

The sudden sound of the school bell ringing snaps you two out of the trance. Right, you two are still at school in an empty classroom. You hear the other students rush out of the nearby classes to leave and return home and you’re glad that you two aren’t in view of the door window.

You hear a sigh coming from Gojo and you look back at him and see him smile up at you.

“I… enjoyed that,” he murmurs shyly and you can't help but smile. “You did so good for me.” He whines and blushes and you swear you feel another twitch from his crotch.

Let's just say that you two continued to meet at that spot many times after that.

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[lemmesayimyourbiggestfan]

frontman x reader whos a player but not because of debt but because she was investigating with gi-hun and ju-hon and got in the limousine and then in-ho falls in love with her and gets her out of the game with him like at the end of the season

can u also like not write it like a hate love relationship? like readers conflicted but still likes in-ho

Keeping you safe

Hwang In-ho x reader

hiii, pleasure writing your request! hope it’s the way you imagined :)

Word count: 3,3k

Warnings: violence, murder,…

Requests are open! i would also like to write something about Jun-ho or the salesman, so hmu

When you jumped into the limousine after Gi-hun you didn’t consider its consequences. Jun-ho trusted you to keep your eyes on Gi-hun at all costs and you were going to keep your word, even when it meant making yourself vulnerable.

The gas was sweet on your tongue and Gi-hun already slumped down on the plush leather of the limo seats. But you were wide awake, somehow defying sleep’s influence, shaking, still processing what the deep voice implied and Gi-hun demanded. “Put me in the game. But leave her out of it.”

Those words were followed by a dry laugh. You knew that meant there was no way out of it now. You started whispering into the intercom to Jun-ho, saying how sorry you were. His panicked voice was cut off by you turning off the device while you prepared yourself for the Frontman’s reaction, closing your eyes and taking shallow breaths.

“No. Those are my games and my rules. Might make them more interesting, don’t you agree, player 456?”

Then the gas started rising up from the floor. Gi-hun grabbed your hand, rumbling about how sorry he was. You smiled wearily, pressing his hand. “It’s okay, Gi-hun.” You both knew it wasn’t. It was as far from ‘okay’ as possible.

His fingers went limp and you resigned, waiting for the inevitable. With muted senses you watched the tinted protection shield go down. Behind it was the man in the mask himself, looking at you over his shoulder. Just when his gloved hand hovered over his mask, shrugging it off, you were engulfed in darkness.

***

After the first game, you thought that nothing could surprise you anymore. As much as Gi-hun tried to keep you from all the bloodshed, even he couldn’t cover your eyes and ears every time there was a gunshot. Still pale and shaken, digging dirt and blood from beneath your nails, you sat on your bed with the provided food in your lap, watching your surroundings. At least Gi-hun could be happy he found here his long lost friend, with whom he was now talking. You still didn’t speak to anyone else. You were scared that if you did, they would be dead by tomorrow.

You barely noticed there was any commotion until the sudden silence peaked your interest. There was a skirmish between three guys, two of them working together, which made the outcome of the fight quite obvious. There was another player stalking towards the group, trying to break up the fight.

“I said save the lecture for your own damn kids.” one of the guys shouted at him. That’s when you noticed the player’s still frame, like a cat before launching at its prey. And you were right; within a blink of an eye, he put both of the guys on their backs, not even breaking a sweat. You looked closer at him, reading the number 001 on his back. Even from afar you could see how deadly calm he was while choking one of them. After a moment the rage left his body and he released his grip. You didn’t expect the applause that followed his actions. You exchanged a look with Gi-hun. Were you the only one who sensed something foreboding?

You turned your attention back to the food in your lap and decided that even though you weren’t hungry, you desperately needed the energy. But in your mind, all you could think about was the player 001. Was he a police detective like Jun-ho or a former marine like Jung-bae or Dae-ho? Or something else entirely?

It took you a while to get out of your head and notice that his bed was right next to yours. With a sigh, player 001 sat down, grabbing his unfinished food. Just then he noticed your searching look and gave you a tentative smile.

“Hello, sir,” you began, looking down at your hands. A sudden wave of nervousness came over you. “I’m Y/N. Do you mind telling me your name?”

“No bother, Y/N,” he replied and you stared at his lips, at how perfectly they formed your name. “I’m Young-il. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you grinned at him in response, holding out your hand that he tentatively shook.

“Nice moves there,” you pointed your chin to the middle of the dormitory where the fight took place. “You could teach me if you had time, I’m terrible in combat.” A lie. Jun-ho himself taught you how to hold yourself and how to hold a gun. You were just trying to find out who Young-il was.

“If we have time, yes.” he nodded absentmindedly, scooping up a mouthful of rice.

“Do you mind me asking? I was just wondering if you have any children.” you said carefully.

“No, I don't.” Young-il replied, suddenly his gaze sharp.

“Well, I just thought that, based on your reaction to what that other player told you-“ you searched for the answer in his closely guarded expression. “You lost your child, didn’t you?”

Young-il didn’t say anything to that, his cutlery going limp in his hand.

“I just- I’d know that look anywhere. I know it’s not something to bond over,” you gave a startled laugh, fidgeting under his everlasting gaze, “but if you’d like to talk about it-“

“Thank you.” He reached out and squeezed your hand. His touch was calloused and warm. “I mean it.”

You smiled softly, squeezing his fingers in response. “I know.”

Preparing yourself for lights out, you couldn’t ignore his lingering gaze following your movements. Thankfully Gi-hun approached you and sat next to you on the bed, guilt visible in his expression.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to drag you into this. And I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe-“

“Don’t worry about that, sir. I can take care of myself. Anyways, I was only following Jun-ho’s orders. It had nothing to do with you.”

Unconvinced, Gi-hun sighed and moved to his own bed, not having the energy at the moment to argue with you. You finally lay down, moving the thin blanket over your body, curling up on your side.

“I overheard you talking about Jun-ho, and I couldn’t help but notice how familiar that name sounds to me,” Young-il broke the silence, looking at you with curiosity in his eyes.

“Well, he used to work as a police detective so that’s why you might know him.”

“Oh, yes, that might be possible,” Young-il gave you a restrained smile. “And he is to you-?”

“A friend. I used to work as a secretary in his department, that’s all.” you smiled back.

“Oh, sorry to pry.” he looked at his hands.

“Not at all.” He looked into your eyes and your eyes crinkled with another smile. Only when he looked away did you turn around in your bed. A few minutes later you heard Gi-hun and Young-il talking and even though you didn’t want to, it was impossible to not overhear. Young-il was explaining the story of why he’s in the games and why he chose to continue playing - how his pregnant wife was gravely ill and he needed the money due to her medical bills. Somehow, this answer shocked you, even though you shouldn't have been thrown off by it. Of course he was married.

Only after the whole dormitory fell silent did you finally fall into a fitful sleep.

***

“Thank you, Young-il.” you whispered to him, gratefully touching his shoulder. Young-il turned his gaze your way and the corners of his eyes crinkled under the influence of a smile. Only his supportive words during the six legged pentathlon could calm you down, which resulted in you successfully completing your mini game. The memory flashed through your mind - tears welling in your eyes, hands shaking as you reached again and again for the gong-gi pebbles. You could sense your teammates’ growing unease but that even worsened your situation. After the third attempt, Young-il grabbed you by the elbow, leaning closer as he said: “Ignore everything else okay? Just listen to me and focus.”

You nodded, bewildered eyes setting again on the pebbles. You were kneeling in a puddle of blood, which didn’t exactly help calm your nerves.

“Just concentrate. I know you can do it. Look at you, all flushed red and focused. This look suits you.” The pebbles balanced on the knuckles of your hand, just one more throw. You looked up at Young-il, lips slightly parted. Were you hearing correctly? Maintaining eye contact, you threw the pebbles op with a sudden surge of confidence and caught them flawlessly. Everyone cheered and you were hoisted up by your team, but all you could hear were Young-il’s last words whispered in your ear: “Good girl.”

Now he was looking at you, this new tension between you two palpable.

“Anytime.”

***

While you tried to act nonchalant, it was just impossible. The way Young-il now watched you at all times drove you crazy, feeling his gaze like a branding on your body. You were grateful for keeping a watch during the lights off, thinking that it could distract you from your own dirty thoughts. But it was quite the contrary.

Overlooking the silent dark room, those words echoed in you even more soundly. Good girl. With a sigh you stretched out your legs, trying to ignore the tightness in your underbelly. You were annoyed with yourself. Why did the words of a stranger make you feel this way? Words of a married stranger, more like it.

“You seem distracted.”

You jumped at that impassive raspy voice. Thankfully, once Young-ho sat down next to you, he couldn’t notice your flushed cheeks due to the impassable darkness. Your shoulders touched and to your surprise he didn’t immediately move away.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” you smiled with your head bowed, nearly chuckling at how clueless he must be.

There was an awkward silence following your reply, so, without thinking about it, you said: “Thank you again for today, truly. You helped me a lot.”

Young-il looked at you, searching for something in your expression. Apparently he found it. “You think about that a lot, don’t you?”

“Sorry?” you stumbled over your words, not knowing how to react, what to say.

“My words alone made you quiver. Now imagine what my tongue could do.” he whispered, teasing you, a spark in his eyes.

“Young-il-“ you breathed out, suddenly aware of how close his face was to yours. You felt your underwear getting wetter by the minute. But you put that all in the back of your mind as you said: “I know you are married. Expecting a child, even. You shouldn’t say things like that.”

He blinked, taken aback. “Does that bother you? Or are you bothered by the effect I have on you?”

You sighed, looking away from his handsome face. Was he sent here just to test your boundaries?

“I still have enough self control to know right from wrong.” But your body wasn’t in line with your thoughts.

Young-il stared at you for a moment, then sighed, irritated. “My wife and my child are gone. I just don’t enjoy talking about them in past tense. I joined the games out of misery, nothing more. Are you happy now?”

You froze, looking at the way his arms formed into fists at his sides. It was like having ice cold water poured all over you.

“Young-il, I’m so-“

“Don’t be. It’s been a long time.” Eyes meeting, he smiled at you tentatively. You squeezed his warm hand and he relaxed, loosening his fist.

“Right now, I don’t care about anything but you.” He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Moving closer, he kissed the bruise already blossoming on your jaw. And you let him.

“I don’t want to scare you away with my… infatuation. But right now, I’m so desperately weak for you.” Your breathing hitched as he moved his lips to your ear.

Just when you thought he would kiss you, he suddenly pulled away.

“I’ll take over the watch. You should sleep, muster some energy for tomorrow.” You nodded as if in a trance. He helped you stand up and led you to your bed. Young-il left you standing there, leaving only the whisper of his lips branding your cheek.

***

The third game was a whirlwind of movement. Only thanks to Young-il were you still alive and breathing. Every time a number was announced, he firmly grasped your wrist and dragged you with him wherever he went. Not that you were complaining - you were so overstimulated by all the commotion that you were glad you could keep up with him.

When one player tried to separate you from him, Young-il bared his teeth and kicked him square in the chest. “She’s mine,” There it was, the cold expression and clenched jaw. Even though you were on the brink of dying, a shiver ran down your spine.

You made it safe with your group into one of the rooms and soon were walking out to play the last round. You knew exactly what the woman’s voice was going to announce and you were right: “Two.”

Young-il was already moving, pushing people out of your way. Everything seemed to go smoothly, until you reached the room; a player was already inside.

“Get out.” Young-il growled and reached the man, trying to get him on his legs and out of the room.

“We were here first,” the player whimpered. You noticed other players running to the door you were standing next to and panicking, you closed it, pushing your whole body against it.

You looked over your shoulder at Young-il, wanting to see if he was any closer to pushing the player out through the doors. But you froze when you saw he was holding the man in a headlock, choking him. All you could do was stare.

Young-il was looking straight back at you. And with one smooth motion of his arms he broke the man’s spine, leaving him staring at the ceiling, going limp in Young-il’s grip.

“I’d do anything for you, Y/N.” Young-il said, slowly getting up. You couldn’t tear your gaze from the lifeless body on the ground.

Only when he knelt in front of you did your eyes meet his. He grabbed your cold, shaking hands, kissing the knuckles while staring into your eyes.

“You’re scaring me,” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“You poor thing,” Young-il said absentmindedly, wiping your tears away. “I can keep you safe, Y/N. I promise. All I’ve done was to prove that to you.”

“It’s scaring me how far you’re willing to go for me,” you sobbed, fighting the urge to flinch when he caressed your cheek. Still, you couldn’t find a reason to hate him. All the things he was saying were true, he did all of this for you, he killed a man for you, for your own safety.

The lock on the doors clicked and you closed your eyes, letting yourself be guided by Young-il out of the room. You knew that if you looked once more at the corpse, you would never let Young-il touch you again.

So you kept your eyes closed, choosing the easier path.

***

When the lights went out, all you could do was hold Young-il as hard as possible and count the minutes until the slaughter was over. Head against his chest, you concentrated on the sound of his heartbeat, every other sound pushed into the background. His hand was on your lower back, holding you as close as possible.

“I want to go home.” you whispered, clutching the front of his T-shirt like a small child. It was all a mistake. You shouldn’t be here.

“Okay, you will, okay? When we disarm the guards, you stay hidden, but once we take control of the rest, you have to come to my side, you understand?”

You nodded into his chest. Young-il kissed the crown of your head before leaving you under the bed as the guards tried to take control of the situation.

After many gunshots fired, you were crawling to the group of players formed in front of the main doors. Without hesitation you claimed one of the smaller guns for yourself. Somehow, the familiar weight of it calmed you down a bit. Young-il looked at you with tenseness.

“Keeping secrets, I see.” In reply you just loaded the gun, staring back.

Gi-hun looked your way over his shoulder, sending you a quick nod. The group exited the room, moving quickly down the corridor. Young-il stayed back, moving slower than the rest. Once the first guards got in your way, he pushed you to the side, saying: “This way!” Looking over your shoulder, everyone was shooting at the enemy, moving the other way. You looked back at him, unsure.

“You wanted to go home, didn’t you? Well, this is it.” seeing how indecisive you were, he sighed, “You trust me, don’t you?”

Hesitant, you followed his lead. You took the side stairs up and you got a bad feeling in your stomach. Young-il didn’t bother to check the corners, nor the other stories as you climbed the stairs. He walked like someone who knew this place, someone who wasn’t scared that he might be shot.

You stopped in your tracks, aiming your gun with a trembling hand. Young-il, upon noticing you were not following him, turned around. There was something like betrayal shining through his demeanour.

“You’re going to explain.” you said, trying to keep your voice and hand steady.

“Oh, Y/N, I think you already know.” Young-il pointed out, a corner of his lips curling up. He took one step towards you.

“What. Is. Your. Real. Name.” you said through gritted teeth, cocking your gun.

“Hwang In-ho.”

All this time, he was the long lost brother Jun-ho was trying to find. You felt the sting of betrayal in your bones.

“Was any of this real?” Tears stung in your eyes and you hated yourself for being so vulnerable.

“Oh, baby,” In-ho sighed, walking to you, kneeling in front of you again. The muzzle of the gun touched his forehead, which he seemed unbothered by.

“Everything.” he said, looking up at you.

“I keep trying to hate you,” you whispered, trying to muster at least some hatred that would make you pull the trigger. “It would be so much easier if I did.”

In-ho reached out and gently took the gun from your trembling hand. He threw in on the ground, making it slide on the floor.

“I know,” he whispered, grabbing your hips with his hands. He stared at you yearningly. There was a burning ache in your chest clawing its way into your throat.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“I can’t. And I don’t think you want me to either.”

The worst part was that he was right.

“I know I should stay away from you, but I can’t. It’s not that simple.” A sob tore out of your throat, making it hard for you to breathe. There were so many emotions in you that your head was spinning. All you knew was the fact that you couldn’t hate the one person who deserved it the most.

“Stay with me, love. I beg you,” In-ho said hoarsely, gripping you harder, trying to make you understand. “You will be safe with me. I will not break that promise.” His eyes were filled with hope. “You felt it too, I know.”

You closed your eyes, composing yourself and your thoughts. You knew it was wrong. But you always had a weakness for the forbidden.

In-ho stood up, taking your face in his hands. He kissed your forehead, your temples, your jaw. And when he kissed you on the lips, you let yourself melt into the touch, forgetting everything else.

“You’ll be the death of me.” you whispered against his lips and he smiled into the kiss, knowing you were his.

[eternalguk]

Pink Hearts & Black Clouds || jjk. — 01

Love me at my lowest, I’ll love you when you’re barely holding on

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of a brooding grunge. Moody, distant, and always a little too sarcastic. A grumpy, tattooed college student who barely tolerates anyone… except you. Somehow, the girl who’s a whirlwind of pink hearts and strawberry lipgloss is the one who keeps dear Jungkook on his toes.

But you must admit… behind that gruff exterior, there’s a side of him only you get to see—gentle, caring, and ready to spoil you in his own way. Everyone else may see him as the tough guy with a permanent scowl, but you know better. Jungkook’s heart? It’s all yours.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, college au, grunge!bf x bimbo!gf, angst, fluff & smut

↠ Word count : 3.8K

↠ Warnings : swearing, making out, teasing, exhibitionism (sex in a lecture theatre), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, slight dumbification, dirty talk, begging, oral sex (m. receiving), ass smacking, scratching, dom!jungkook x sub!reader, use of pet names, sex on a desk (he hits it from the back at one point), a very moody but flirtatious Jungkook paired with bimbo!oc deserves its own warning :) - I think that’s about it?

↠ A/n : Hi there ; here it is! Chapter 01 of my first series, ‘pink hearts and black clouds’ which I am so excited to share. This story means a lot to me as it explores two completely different personalities finding their way together. With bimbo, sunshine!reader and grunge, grumpy!jk, I hope you enjoy exploring this world as much as I loved creating it. It’s messy, it’s fun, it’s emotional, it’s steamy (at times 👀) and it’s absolutely everything I could ask for! I’d love to hear what you think - your reactions, favourite part, or even anything you’d like to see from them in the future! Feedback / comments are always appreciated. Thank you for giving my story a chance & happy reading 🦢.

↠ Song : ‘Closer’ by Jungkook / ‘Good for you’ by Selena G

❧ Chapter 01 : Lipgloss & Leather

prev. || next  || series masterlist || masterlist

A stream of light filters through the wooden, venetian blinds of the lecture theatre windows, slicing through the warm, cinnamon-scented air.

God bless Ms. Choi for her diffusers.

The ambience of the empty theatre is a sharp contrast to the wintry chill that is dancing around outside. The time of season where it bites at your cheeks and refuses to let go. Inside though, the warmth feels like a holiday cocoon, the kind that makes you shed layers and forget the frost clinging to the world beyond your surrounding.

Unfortunately, despite the serene atmosphere, you don’t feel any less distracted.

You are perched in a chair at the back of the theatre, mindlessly playing with your pink glitter gel pen while Jungkook sits on the desk in front of you, legs spread arrogantly, one boot perched on the seat beside yours. The light catches on the silver chain hanging from his neck, a stark contrast to his black t-shirt and ripped dry-denim jeans.

You should be focusing on taking notes for the upcoming midterm, like he told you to do, but instead, your eyes keep wandering back to the powerful man in front of you.

Powerful because he consumes your entire being.

You pout as you swirl a strand of your hair around your finger, oblivious to the smirk curling on Jungkook’s lips as he catches onto your little daydream.

“Not taking notes, princess?” he asks, tone dripping with mockery.

“Erm…” you blink at him, momentarily caught off guard. “I was… thinking?”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Thinking. Right. About the syllabus or about how good I look right now?”

Your cheeks flame as he leans forward, chin propped lazily on his tattooed hand. His dark hair falls messily over his face, making him look even more impossibly cocky.

“Both?” you meekly offer, putting down the glitter pen and propping your chin onto your soft hands.

His grin stretches wider. “You’re cute when you lie.”

You smile at the compliment as Jungkook reaches out and grabs the gel pen from the desk, inspecting it like it was the most interesting thing in the world. The sight of his tattooed fingers gripping the sparkly pink plastic makes your heart race.

“Why do you even need this?” he teases, holding the pen just out of reach when you try to grab it back. “It’s ugly, you definitely don’t use it to write anything down and it’s pink.”

Jungkook grimaces, observing the pen as though it’s a foreign object.

You huff and pout harder, crossing your arms. “You said you’d help me study, but all you’re doing is being mean!”

“Mean?” Jungkook cackles, the sound low and gravelly. “Doll, I’m just keeping it real. Someone has to be with you.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst!” you whine, trying again to snatch the pen, but Jungkook is faster. He swiftly moves it behind his back, staring you down with his usual, conceited smirk.

“And yet, here you are. With me.”

“Because you don’t let me leave,” you shoot back, a small huff escaping as you try your best to appear annoyed.

But you aren’t. Not even a little bit.

Especially when Jungkook leans in even closer, his dark eyes scanning your face like he is trying to memorise every detail.

“C’mere,” he says softly, contrasting his suddenly serious expression.

You blink up at him, your heart fluttering. “Why?”

“Just come here, doll. Trust me.”

You hesitate for half a second before leaning forward, and that is all the invitation Jungkook needs to grab your chair and yank you forward, placing you between his legs. Your breath hitches as he cups your face in his hands, the rough pads of his thumbs stroking your cheeks.

“You’re too fucking pretty, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice so low and intimate that it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Jungkook…” You trail off, feeling utterly flustered and ridiculously warm under his intense gaze.

“What?” he questions, cocking his head playfully. “You don’t like compliments? Want me to call you dumb instead? You like that, huh?”

“N-no!” you stutter, and the way he leans in closer makes your head spin.

“That’s what I thought,” he says with a smirk, brushing his nose against yours. “My good girl likes being told she’s pretty.”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest as his lips find yours, the kiss starting soft but quickly turning hungrier. Jungkook kicks your chair back before tugging you impossibly closer, his hands sliding down to your waist.

“Fuck, you taste sweet,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Strawberry lip gloss,” you utter, still fairly dazed.

He hums appreciatively, a smile now evident on his face. “My favourite.”

Jungkook’s hands slides lower, squeezing your hips as he deepens the kiss. You moan softly when he nips at your bottom lip, his pierced tongue sweeping over it a second later.

The sound of the theatre door creaking open in the distance makes you freeze.

The wind.

“Jungkook!” you hiss, pulling back slightly. “What if someone comes in?”

Jungkook grins, completely unbothered. “Free show?”

“You’re impossible!”

“You love it,” he teases, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. His hands tug at the hem of your short pink skirt, hiking it up higher as his fingers toy with the edge of your lace underwear.

“Ahh, is this the pair I got you the other day?”

“Jungkook…” you mewl, voice barely above a whisper. You manage a quick nod, before falling to rest your head on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“My doll is always so needy,” he grumbles, his dark eyes locking with yours. “But I don’t mind.”

Jungkook continues to fiddle with your underwear, his hand slipping inside to cup your now soaked sex in his rough hands. “Nice and wet.”

You squirm in his grasp, your cheeks burning as he presses another kiss to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin until you gasp.

“Relax, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you, I promise.”

And with that, you give in - like you always do with your lover boy.

“Get on the desk.”

Your heart races as you turn toward the heavy, wooden desk behind you. It feels cold beneath your palms as you hoist yourself up, the sound of your skirt rustling loud in the quiet space. Jungkook watches you intently, his eyes darkening as you settle onto the surface, your legs dangling over the edge.

He steps closer, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the hem of your skirt higher.

“Look at you,” Jungkook whispers, his voice dripping with approval. “So pretty. So perfect for me.”

You shiver, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as his fingers trace patterns on your skin. Jungkook’s touch feels electric, sending sparks shooting through your veins.

“J-Jungkook—” you stutter, your voice shaky.

“Shh,” he interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

Your boyfriend's words send a wave of warmth washing over you, and you let your body sink into the desk as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck. You feel the stubble on his jaw brushing against your skin, the faint scent of his woody cologne filling your senses.

“The way you give in,” he begins, his lips grazing your ear, “is fucking beautiful.”

A soft whimper escapes your glossy lips as his hands move higher, pushing your skirt up to your waist. His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, and you gasp as he tugs them down, leaving you exposed.

Jungkook is quick to toss them onto his discarded leather jacket draped over the chair beside him. The delicate blush of your pink panties against the rugged, worn leather is a stark contrast that sends your mind spiraling.

“Stunning,” he utters to himself, eyes roaming over your body with a hunger that quickens your pulse.

Why the fuck is this man so hot?

You squirm, cheeks burning with embarrassment, but Jungkook doesn’t give you time to think. Not that there was much going on up there anyway.

His hands grips your hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the desk. He wraps your delicate legs around him, engulfing you in his embrace.

“As beautiful as you look like this,” Jungkook mutters, caressing your cheek, “I need you on your knees.”

You’re quick to comply, gently shoving Jungkook away. He cackles at your eagerness, but deep inside his brooding heart, he feels at awe.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, quick to change personas, voice rough with desire.

Again, you obey without hesitation, your lips parting as he unzips his jeans. His cock springs free, already hard and straining, and your eyes widen as he steps closer, the tip brushing against your lips.

“Suck,” he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You hesitate for only a second before leaning forward, taking him into your mouth. His taste is salty and masculine, making you moan softly as you begin to move your tongue, your lips wrapping tightly around his girthy member.

Jungkook groans, his hand tangling in your hair as he guides your head up and down. “That’s it, doll,” he encourages, his voice thick with pleasure. “Take all of me.”

You sink deeper, gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t stop, determined to please him.

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook effortlessly praises, his grip tightening in your hair. “You were fucking made for this.”

The words send a jolt of heat straight to your core, and you moan around him, the vibrations making him shudder.

“Fuck,” he curses, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. “I’ll be painting your face with cum if you keep that up.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Isn’t that what you like?”

Jungkook chuckles darkly, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “Not yet, baby. I have other plans for you first.”

Before you can even think of a response, Jungkook pulls you off the floor, spinning you around so your back is pressed against his chest. His hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts through your satin blouse as he nips at your earlobe.

“You’re turn, princess,” he whispers, voice sending shivers down your spine for the umpteenth time this afternoon.

You gasp as his cold fingers find their way between your legs, exploring your already soaked folds. He teases you mercilessly, touch light yet maddening enough that it has you writhing in his bulky arms.

“Please,” you beg, voice trembling with need.

You try to grind against him, but Jungkook’s firm grip stops you from doing so.

“Please what?” he taunts, feigning confusion, breath hot against your neck.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, the words spilling out effortlessly.

Jungkook grins, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “What my pretty doll wants, my pretty doll gets.”

In one swift motion, he lifts you onto the desk, positioning himself between your legs. Jungkook’s cock presses against your entrance, and you yelp as he thrusts into you in one smooth, powerful movement.

”God, why are you so tight?” Jungkook groans, his hands gripping your hips as he begins to move. “I fucked you this morning.”

The sensation, along with the reminder of your earlier shenanigans, is overwhelming and both the stretch and burn send waves of pleasure through you.

You wrap your legs around Jungkook’s slim waist, urging him deeper as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“Harder,” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. “More.”

Jungkook obliges, slamming into you with a force that has the desk rocking against the floor. The sound echoes through the lecture theatre, mingling with your desperate moans and his guttural grunts.

“Could fuck this cunt all day,” Jungkook growls, his pace increasing as he mercilessly hammers his thick cock into you.

You cling to him, body trembling on the edge of release. But just as you’re about to let go, Jungkook pulls out, leaving you gasping and empty.

“No!” you cry, your eyes snapping open to meet his smug grin.

“Not yet,” he warns, voice firm. “You’re not cumming until I say so.”

You whimper, your body aching with need, but Jungkook isn’t done. He flips you over onto your stomach, hoisting your hips up so your ass is in the air.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice muffled by the desk.

“Giving you what you wanted,” he replies casually, his hands spreading your cheeks apart.

And then Jungkook is inside you again, filling you completely as he drives into you with a ferocity that leaves you utterly breathless.

Your sopping pussy lewdly squelches around Jungkook, completely soaking him. The sound turns the pair of you on further.

“Right there!” You mewl, pushing yourself back onto Jungkook, the pressure making you moan uncontrollably.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice rough with exertion. “Tell me who fucks you this good.”

“Y-you,” you stutter, your voice breaking as he hits your g-spot deep inside you. “This drenched pussy is yours.”

“And who do you belong to?” Your boyfriend growls, his hand coming down on your plump ass with a sharp smack.

“I’m yours!” you cry, the pain mixing with pleasure in the most delicious way. ��Love the way you fuck me.”

Jungkook smirks, his pace slowing as he leans over you, lips brushing against your ear. “Good girl. Now come for me.”

As soon as the words leave his filthy mouth, your body convulses, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you as you come undone. Jungkook isn’t far behind, his own release hitting him with a force that leaves him trembling.

The feeling of his cum oozing into you has you wanting to turn around and ride the fuck out of your lover boy.

Jungkook collapses on top of you, his breath hot against your skin as you both struggle to catch your breath.

“You okay, doll?” he asks, his voice softening as he turns you around and carefully seats you on the desk.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah. I’m- wow.”

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re amazing.”

“And you, Bakugo,” you reply, your voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

Your lover boy grins, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back. “Round two after lunch?”

The cafeteria hums with energy, alive with the noise of lively chatter and the sporadic clatter of trays hitting tables.

You’re perched on the bench beside Jungkook, a tray of half-eaten chips and an unopened can of Samjin Mango Soda sitting in front of you.

Across the table, Taehyung and Jimin are engaged in a heated debate about Haikyu, their hands waving dramatically as they try to outtalk each other about the anime the two of them are currently rewatching.

Well, truthfully speaking, all of you have been rewatching, but only the two of them are so deeply interested. Maybe Jungkook, but he’d never admit it.

Speaking of Jungkook, he is slouched against the table, one elbow propped up as his thumb scrolls lazily through your phone, staring at pictures you had taken of yourself today.

And he says he isn’t obsessed.

As usual, he hasn’t said much, just the occasional grunt when someone asks him a question. He looks effortlessly intimidating, his black hoodie (that you finally returned) pulled low over his forehead, his iconic silver chain around his neck catching the light and his usual scowl that is always imprinted on his beautiful face.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more of a contrast. You’re in your own world, a makeshift beauty station spread out in front of you, next to yours and Jungkook’s shared meal. Your compact mirror is propped against the soda can, brushes and glosses neatly scattered around it.

A soft pout forms on your lips as you reapply a coat of your signature lip gloss, the sticky sheen glistening in the light. You’re blissfully focused, tilting your head to inspect your work like an artist perfecting their masterpiece.

“You’re so wrong,” Jimin says, leaning forward with a look of betrayal. “There’s no way Seijoh vs. Karasuno is better than Shiratorizawa vs. Karasuno.”

“It’s about the emotional stakes, Jimin,” Taehyung replies, sipping his iced tea as though he is a certified anime critic. “Oikawa’s genius mind versus Kageyama’s raw talent? That’s art.”

“Art?” Jimin scoffs. “Bro, real art is Ushijima annihilating them with a spike.”

Taehyung shrugs. “Oikawa’s smugness had more impact than any spike ever could.”

“Who’s Kageyama again?” you pipe up, tilting your head.

Jungkook’s phone, well your phone, lowers an inch as he glances at you, his expression blank. “You can’t be serious. We literally watched an episode yesterday.”

You shrug, completely unbothered by the disbelief in his tone. “I don’t remember the boring ones.”

Jimin nearly chokes on his drink, eyes wide in horror. “Boring?! He’s literally the King of the Court!”

“Don’t,” Jungkook says flatly, cutting off Jimin’s impending rant. “She’ll just start listing the hot ones.”

You grin, batting your lashes at him. “Is that a problem, Koo?”

Taehyung leans back in his seat, smirking. “You’ve got your hands full, don’t you, Koo?”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Jungkook mutters, though his ears tinge pink. “And don’t fucking call me that.”

Taehyung catches it immediately, raising his brows. “Is that a blush I see, Jungkook? The same guy who nearly broke someone’s nose in basketball last week?”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook grumbles, sliding your phone over to you.

“Bro, you’re whipped,” Jimin adds, his laugh practically echoing across the room.

“No I’m not-”

“You are,” Taehyung interrupts, pointing a chip at him. “It’s so obvious. You’ve got that whole, ‘don’t fucking talk to me’ thing going on, but this one over here bats her fake lashes and you’re folding fast.”

“Hey! They’re real,” you protest, leaning forward and resting your chin in your palms.

You study Jungkook with a teasing smile. “Is that true? Am I your kryptonite?”

His eyes flick to yours, dark and unreadable, but there’s a flicker of something - amusement, maybe, or fond exasperation. Jungkook simply doesn’t answer, just grabbing a chip from the tray and popping it into his mouth.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say, your smile widening.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, but it’s half-hearted. He leans back in his seat, stretching his long legs out under the table, and you notice the way his fingers tap rhythmically against his knee. He looks relaxed, but you know him well enough to recognise the effort it takes to hold back a snarky comment.

“He doesn’t even deny it,” Jimin continues, grinning like he’s won something. “You know what? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you’re good for him.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden compliment. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees, though his tone is far more mischievous. “You’re like the sunshine to his thundercloud.”

“Lipgloss to his cigarette,” Jimin chimes in.

“Or the idiot to his genius,” Jungkook finishes off, his voice dry as ever.

You gasp, smacking his muscular arm lightly. “I’ll have you know I’m very smart!”

“Name the capital of the United States,” he challenges, barely hiding the smirk tugging at his lips.

“Easy,” you say confidently, shrugging your shoulders. “Hollywood.”

Taehyung and Jimin dissolve into laughter, and even Jungkook can’t hold back the small shake of his shoulders.

“Christ,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re unbelievable.”

You pout, confused why the boys are laughing. But, the sight of Jungkook joining in with them has you leaning into his side, grinning up at him. “You still like me, right?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, but his hand moves to casually rest against the small of your back, his fingers caressing the exposed skin.

And that?

That’s the only answer you need.

You busy yourself with dabbing some extra Dior blush onto your cheeks, the sunlight streaming through the window catching the shimmer within it. Jimin plays with your Ilia mascara, shaking his head as he takes in the rest of your makeup that is scattered around.

Taehyung sees that you’re occupied and smirks, leaning closer to Jungkook. “You defo love it, you’re just too much of a moody shit to admit it.”

“Love what?” Jungkook asks, deadpan, though the tightening of his jaw gives him away.

“Having someone fuss over you,” his best friend teases, motioning his thumb towards you with a grin. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, looking down at the now empty takeaway container in front of him like it’s suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. “You have nothing better to talk about?”

Your eyes dart to him, catching the faintest hint of red creeping up his neck.

Smiling to yourself, you lean your chin on your palm. “It’s okay, Jungkookie,” you coo softly. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

He glares at you, but there’s no real bite to it. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” you ask, pouting in innocence. “You love it when I call you that.”

Taehyung and Jimin burst into laughter once again at your audacity.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at them before turning to you. For a split second, his fingers twitch on the table, like he’s about to pull you closer. His gaze softens as it lingers on you - like he’s on autopilot, already halfway to pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

But then he stops.

Clearing his throat, he leans back in his chair instead, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his head like armour. “You’re insufferable and annoying.”

You blink, caught between surprise and amusement. “You almost- you almost did it!”

“What?” he grunts, refusing to look at you.

“You were going to kiss my head.” Your voice is laced with a playful lilt, but there’s a flicker of something tender beneath it. “Don’t worry, Kookie. Next time, you’ll follow through.”

His tongue pokes against his cheek, a telltale sign of his rising frustration - or embarrassment, you can’t quite tell. “Shut up and eat,” he mutters, tugging his hood lower before he shoves a packet of crisps your way.

Jimin and Taehyung howl in laughter, and you can’t help but join them, even as Jungkook mumbles curses under his breath.

Somewhere beneath the gruffness, there’s the faintest quirk of his lips - a fleeting smile that only you seem to notice.

And in small moments like this you conclude that while Jungkook doesn’t give you flowers or grace you with love letters, he gives you something that is endless - pieces of himself: his time, his trust, his unwavering presence, and a love so consuming it feels like forever.

And there we have it! Please do let me know your thoughts ; the support I receive means the world to me 🫶🏻

↠ Taglist : @bangchanwantsmesobad @rklvez @doulcha @starlight-1010 @mimi1097 @khadeeeeej @jkslvsnella @royalguk @gaebestie @iamstilljk @myjungkookthighs @jungshaking @kookiesgiggles @minimoninini @lovejkmilitarywife @pplongoing @pokolunolino @dontcallmeelle @taeisbae13 @ronyiboniyy @nerdycheol @onlyforyoukook @ukandtwme @morosisxx @smwhrinthehaze @thebluegoddess @ramyun-h @remgeolli @minniejim @cherricherryy @avawants2havefun @fr0ggieth1nk @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeeykey @ficluvr613 @deeznutkooks @kookienooki (names in italics could not be tagged).

[realcleverscience]

here's my personal take on this:

The concern over AI very much IS like past freakouts over major tech breakthroughs, like textile industrialization, the advent of coal and oil, the chemical industry, computers, internet, and so much more. Personally, I'm not persuaded by those concerns that were listed:

"pervade our lives" - we already live in an advanced tech age that pervades all aspects of our lives. all of you are reading this on a computer, possibly on a small phone which you keep in your pocket all the time. AI isn't invading space. It's just piggybacking on tech that's already there.

Error rate: A. I fully expect AI error rates to continue to fall. B. Knowing that AI isn't perfect and may require some oversight - just like humans - allows people to still make tremendously use of its output. E.g. A software coder can have an AI do in 10 minutes what would have taken 10 hours. This is useful, even if the coder will have to look through the result and test it out and work out any bugs. This is all the more the case when this is the expectations we already have for people, and the AI can potentially do things which most people can't.

Plagiarism: I think there are some valid concerns here, but I also think this issue is massively overblown for two reasons. 1) Plagiarism is copying someone else's work as your own. AI typically does not spit out copies of other people's work. Instead, like humans, it takes info its acquired over its lifetime of training and uses that to create its own outputs. So I only see plagiarism as an issue in the niche situation where its outputting other people's texts as its own. Further, I expect that issue to get resolved. 2) This assumes that AI will always be trained on "illegally acquired" data. I'm not at all convinced of that. (E.g. there are already photo and video AIs that are being trained on privately owned image/video content, thereby entirely avoiding the plagiarism issues; and as AI/robots continue to grow, they'll be able to collect and create their own data.) Further, I expect that as AI grows, we'll develop legal structures which make it easier to use public data. (e.g. easier ways for people to "opt in" and get paid.)

Environment: I care a lot about the environment but I'm again not worried about this issue. 1) Most tech companies are already working toward net-zero. If the AI requires a state's worth of energy but it's all sourced from renewables or nuclear, I have no major problem with that. 2) AI is getting much better in every domain, including energy efficiency. Just about every week I read about another breakthrough that will soon massively reduce computing costs. (I have a few examples in a post here.) This is a trend which has been going on for literal decades. 3) I want to see a future where, for instance, everyone can get all the medical care they need. To get there, we could expand the population and train a LOT more doctors or we can improve AI. Of the two options, the AI one is a lot faster and more resource efficient (more on that in a second). 4) AI itself is helping us progress for all three of those previous points. The issue with AI isn't its resource needs (which again, are very low compared to humans). The issue is scale. For instance, let's say we create and AI doctor with a resource footprint that's 1/10th that of a human doctor. That's a 90% resource reduction. Great! BUT, the issue is that now everyone on earth will want their own digital doctor. To put the numbers crudely: If 8 billion people each have a digital doctor with 1/10th the footprint, that's like adding 800 million people to our resource budget. So even though the AI is much more efficient and massively growing it's healthcare output, it's still also massively growing our footprint. The issue isn't the application but the scale of application. And frankly, that's been an issue with most of our tech in modern times. When our species only had a million members, it didn't matter if they felled trees or burnt coal bc it didn't add up to much. These days, even when our processes are super efficient, the issue is that there's literally billions of us. As an example, consider hamburgers. Most of us like burgers and buy them regularly, esp as americans. I'd guess that at least 90% of people who are concerned with AI's footprint also eat burgers - even though burgers are currently much more resource heavy than AI. E.g. The average person eats 50kg of meat a year, with a co2 footprint of 3,000kg. In contrast, today, the average person has an AI-based CO2 footprint of 3.5kg per year. And unlike meat, AI is getting more energy efficient. (I got a cool post with some comparison stats here.) So I think the issue here is scale, but again, I think that will be solved by sustainable energy sources and continued computing efficiency gains.

So it's not that I think these issues aren't important, but that I think they're often overblown, taken out of context, and don't take into account tech trends on efficiency.

Personally, I'm really excited about a future where everyone is fed, everyone is housed, and everyone has healthcare. I'm excited about robots helping people with disabilities or helping to repair the ecosystem. I'm excited for radical advancements in medicine like curing all cancers, healing the blind or deaf, and so many more illnesses. I'm excited for a time when we create art for art's sake and not capitalism's sake. I'm excited for a time when no-one *has* to work anymore. But the only way for us to no longer need jobs is for us all to lose our jobs to AI and to restructure our society toward a post-labor future.

'People are panicking about AI tools the same way they did when the calculator was invented, stop worrying' cannot stress enough the calculator did not forcibly pervade every aspect of our lives, has such a low error rate it's a statistical anomaly when it does happen, isn't built on mass plagiarism, and does not obliterate the fucking environment when you use it. Be so fucking serious right now

[gtgbabie0]

{Werewolf!Girlfriend!Vi who gets extra needy when a full moon is approaching}

I indeed got freaky with it again. !!-18//MDNI-!!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

Fuck the moon and its stupid ass phases. Vi hates it, the way it messes up with her hormones and emotions— her body clock all wonky. It’s a grasp that she can’t escape from no matter what she takes from those crazy quack doctors who have huddled themselves up in the nooks and crannies of Zaun, it always costs a pretty penny too. Money she didn’t have to be quite frank.

It leaves her with this dull throb at the base of her spine, an ache that slowly snakes around her body threatening to eat her whole. You're the only one who can subdue her better than those ointments and tea herbs- that honestly do more harm than good.

That’s why she’s staggering into your room through ragged breaths, using the pale moonlight that peaks through your curtains as guidance, the same taunting light that drips over your pretty face like some sort of beacon, calling her to you. Vi stumbles onto your bed— her face pressed into the soft fabric of your pillows that was absolutely drenched with the scent of you, which only fuels the fire in her.

Vi hated to wake you up, really she did, but she needed you, more than she had ever before… and okay maybe she says that every time but can you really blame her?

Either way, There’s no hesitation in how she shuffles closer to you, smushing her face into the crook of your neck with a low and desperate groan— big, rough hands pawing at your hips from above the blanket. “Please wake up baby, please, please.” Whispered from your neck until your pretty eyes are fluttering open.

The ticklish feeling of her ears twitching against your face keeps you from slipping back into dreamland, that and the way her hands had now disappeared beneath the covers to touch you— bandaged palms exploring the soft curves and dips of your body, slipping under your sleep shirt.

“Vi?— what time is it?” You huff groggily, turning your head to the side to try and look at your clock through bleary. She cups your jaw, turning your head back to her with a small, sheepish smile.“Don’t worry bout that,” her tone is draped in a heady whine of pure need.

Your brain was foggy and the situation wasn’t quite hitting you yet— you just kinda stare up at her in confusion. She lets out a low groan when you don’t immediately start giving her the attention she so clearly wants. Dropping her body on top of yours, looking down at you with glossy blue eyes— plump lips pursed out in a small pout as a whimper builds up in the back of her throat. “Do something, anything, please.” She sniffles, letting her head fall against your chest. “Need you.”

“What do you need hmm, puppy?” Oh god, ‘puppy?’… now you were just being mean weren’t you?

Her ears pin back, tail thwipping against your shin as she presses her face back into your neck— nosing at your jaw, inhaling you deeply. “Mmf, you. Your hands… can you, please?” She’s almost incoherent, drunk on desperation.

A shiver runs down her body, prickling at her skin as you drag your fingertips through her hair, gently scratching against her scalp and behind her ears that twitch against your palm happily. You’re hitting all the sensitive spots, the spots that draw pitiful sounds from her lips— oh the way she whines your name, nudging her head into your hand.

“Hngg, right there— there.” She huffs, breaths coming out in sharp, ragged pants when you hit that spot— the one that has her melting into your body, a dead weight draped over you, with her cheek smushed against your chest.

Vi, not so subtly, shifts her hips against your own— trying to grind against you all clumsily as you continue to pet over her head and ears. Then her fingers are curling around the waistband of your shorts, “Vi?… what’re you—” your hand stops as she fists the flimsy fabric, tugging them off with a huff.

“M’sorry baby… sorry, I just— I can smell you, s’not fair.” she pleads, taking a fistful of your thighs and pushing them down against the mattress— sharp canines on show as her hungry eyes drink in the sight of you, spread out, wet cunt glistening all for her. “Oh, ffffuck— pretty girl. S'all mine, yeah?” The words are drawled out in a groan.

“Mhm, yours Vi.” you agree, caving in as she presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth as if that'll make up for waking you up at this ungodly hour. You're positive you won't care in a couple of minutes.

Vi nips at the curve of your jaw as she crawls over you to grind her cunt onto yours. The fabric of her boxers are slick with a mixture of her and you— she’s completely lost in the feeling of your clits rubbing together, the way she can feel the throb of your pussy through her underwear and the breathy sounds you're making, it was so dizzying. The hot feeling of desperation so tightly coiled around her that she didn’t care about anything else except for her release, rutting against your cunt carelessly to chase after what she needed.

“Oh, Vi— mfm, take it easy puppy.” You gasp, hands grasping at her hips in a pointless attempt to slow her down— her movements borderline erratic.

She shakes her head, shoving her face into the crook of your neck with a broken cry of pleasure as she continues to rock her clothed cunt against yours, hands pawing at your thighs. “Can’t— I can’t, fuck— I can’t. I’m sorry, ahh!” She pants into the underside of your jaw, words muffled hotly into your skin as her orgasm washes over her, hips stuttering against yours before she goes boneless over the top of you in relief.

“S’okay pup… you’re okay—” you coo, slightly breathless, as you reach to pet the back of her head weakly. Vi doesn’t even give you a minute to catch your breath before she’s pushing herself back, shuffling her boxers off to reveal that damn trail of dark red hair before climbing back over you with a wolfish grin, whispering a lazy, “You’re so good to me pretty girl.” — and oh god, you were in for a long night.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

[456-is-the-way]

hiii so ive had this idea for a while now but i just dont have the skills to write it myself, its not really a reader x character but more of a maybe actor!reader x the actor of the character if u get me??😭😭

so the idea is actor!reader plays a character that is also played as the love interest/partner of hwang inho (lee byung hun's character) and during their scenes together (like an intimate scene between their characters) reader just keeps messing up her lines or having trouble staying in character because she keeps getting flustered/shy by lee byung hun causing them to redo the scene over and over again so him and the whole cast just keeps laughing and teasing her about it😣😣🙏🙏🙏

A/n: So I will be going in order of the requests I get in my ask box then I will start on some suggestions I have in the comments. Once again, I do Actor x reader actor! So here is one of those ideas and I love it. I was going to do a tag list but I don’t know why it won't let me tag people!

Trigger warnings: Talks of smut, Partial Smut (lol?)

Squid Game Masterlist

Lee Byung-hun x reader

Quiet On Set

(Y/n) knew this scene would be the hardest to film. Sure as a professional actor, she filmed multiple movies that had intimate scenes. However, (Y/n) never had a romantic interest in the other actors. There was an instant spark when she met Lee Byung-hun. His character happens to have a complex background and in this season goes undercover to destroy Gi-hun, Lee Jung-jae, in an attempt to show him no matter what, people are greedy. Thats when (Y/n) character is introduced. (C/n) is written to be the complete opposite of The Frontman, In-ho. She is kind, patient, understanding, caring, and meant to show the good in humanity even though she has been dealt only hardships in life. Throughout the season their love builds up, soft touches, knowing glances, and quick kisses in secret. All the while (Y/n) had been falling helplessly in love with Lee Byung-hun. Of course, the fans did not let this go unnoticed during their recent interviews. Social media had blown up with edits and multiple bloggers posting about the chemistry they shared. (Y/n) would not admit her guilty pleasure is watching those edits and making comments herself which and fans foaming at the mouths. Lee Byung-hun even found it humorous that people not only shipped their character but them as well. When any with him and (Y/n) not on set but together was posted the fans always blew the comment section up within minutes. 

“Alright places everyone!” Hwang Dong-hyuk called as the crew rushed to make sure everything was set up in the correct frames. “(Y/n), Byung-hun are you all ready?” He asked kindly always wanting to double-check checking the actors were comfortable in scenes where they would be partially on display. (Y/n) nods even though slightly hesitant she walked onto the set and stood by the bathroom wall where the scene was going to be shot.

Byung-hun walked behind her with a smile, “Don’t be nervous (Y/n) this scene will be over before you know it.” It earned a shy smile from the actress leaning against the wall. 

“I am not that nervous… It’s a while since I have done scenes like this. Alright, I think we are ready.” She told the director and Byung-hun nodded in agreement. 

“Quiet on set, Take one, action!” He yelled and silence filled the room. (Y/n) could swear her heartbeat could probably be heard by how badly it was beating against her chest. 

Byung-hun fell into character without hesitation moving to press (Y/n) the cold tile. She breathes heavily cheeks flushed looking into his eyes. “In-ho we can’t” She whispered as he began aggressively kissing up her neck pressing their bodies together. (Y/n) let out a whimper from the pleasure she felt. 

“But you (C/n)” His voice went low showing his absolute dominance. (Y/n) wasn’t used to this side of the sweet Byung-hun. As scripted their jumpsuits were quickly discarded. The heavy breathing filled the room as the two actors stood almost nude in front of each other. His leg slipped between (Y/n). 

She arched up and moaned softly feeling him rub his knee against her covered core. “Byung-hun!” (Y/n) gasped causing him to instantly freeze. “Fuck I’m sorry.” She said as the director yelled cut. 

“Let's roll again.” As the scene had to be started over (Y/n) continued to be a flustered mess messing up the lines or using Byung-hun’s name instead of Young-Il.

“You are a mess.” He chuckled as the team thought it was hilarious she could not for the life of her finish the scene. Byung-hun smirked and leaned down whispering in a low sexual voice. “Do it in one shot this time and I’ll let you cry my name tonight.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widen looking into her costars eyes with a grin. Let's just say she didn’t mess up again.

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 11 - The Empress

summary : Eris comes over to spend the holidays with you, and drags jayce and viktor in tarot readings. Some bad news linger in the air, but nez beginnings are blooming.

content warnings : lots of dialogue. like a lot. and an enourmous amount of tarot yapping, some angst, and some fluff to close it all

word count : 12,4k

author's note : i hate having like zero perception of my own writing ARGH i hope this is good. gosh this is so long. but hey first writing post of 2025 yey!!!

NOT proofread for now

masterlist : here

Piltover under the snow had a profoundly different atmosphere to its usual gilt. The domes and roofs covered in thick snow gave the impression that all the clouds in the sky had fallen on the town, covering it in a smooth white mantle. It seemed silent, as if frozen in time.

As you emerged from the dormitory building, wrapped in your scarf up to your nose, you were greeted by the incessant waltz of snowflakes falling from the sky, tumbling like white feathers like all the angels in the skies had removed their leaves like the trees, simply guided by the wind towards an unknown destination. But it didn't matter, they were flying, simply free.

Your boots crunched in the snow as you set off towards the bridge to find Eris. The day had come for you to pick her up, and as agreed you were going to meet her at the usual bridge linking the two cities.

The town was all decked out with garlands and lights criss-crossing from buildings to buildings, apparently firmly preventing any colour other than gold from running through its streets. The carcasses of trees stripped of their foliage were lit up again, the majority of passers-by had their gloved hands around a cup of hot chocolate, and children were running after each other with snowballs in their hands ready to fire at their friends.

Still, there were fewer people than usual, the majority staying at home in the comfort and warmth of a well-insulated fireplace. You didn't need to wonder what it was like in Zaun, you had spent enough winters there that you didn't miss it.

The lack of heat in the promenade level wasn't too bad, although it would have been useful to have good chimneys or radiators that didn't break every other day. Some of the holes in the roofs led to leaks, but despite a few power cuts, it was possible to live normally.

Surprisingly, the sump level was the least worst. The constant heat from the machines brought a little warmth back to the bowels of the city, and this time the most hard-pressed workers found themselves in a new level of comfort.

As for the entresol level, it was a terrible in-between. Too far away from the big energy machines, and receiving the freezing snows in certain crevices falling from the top, the entresol level was poorly housed, at least in your memories. Who knows, perhaps public heaters filled with flammable resources had been introduced to prevent anyone from being absent from the streets.

When you reached the bridge, it was almost deserted, apart from the unfortunate enforcers chosen on this day to ensure customs and passage between each town. With your hands shoved into your pockets, you waited for your friend to appear in the distance. 

It was always preferable for you to be present and to set up a meeting point like this, just in case the enforcers wanted to cause problems for nothing when looking for papers and for you to confirm that she was with you.

Sky would no doubt have liked to come and meet your friend. You had already spoken to her about your soul sister, and she would have greatly appreciated seeing her. But Sky was already on the other side, spending her holidays with her family on the Promenade level. You hoped she wouldn't have any problems, no leaks, no power cuts.

At last you saw your friend's face, wearing a cap almost as black as her hair, as she made her way painfully towards the enforcers. Mechanically, she took out her papers, her fingertips peeking out of her mittens as she passed them to the officer before quickly stuffing them back into her pocket to keep out the cold. She exchanged an annoyed glance with you as the man made sure everything was in order, earning you a chuckle as she puffed out her cheeks before sighing heavily. He finally handed her her papers, and she gave him a polite but cold smile before moving towards you.

"It's like they take their time on purpose," she breathed, before taking you in her arms.

You hugged her back, despite the thickness of the coats that separated you with difficulty. "You're too pretty for the Piltover standards, they have to double-check if you're real."

With a tired laugh, she backed away from you, squeezing your shoulders and examining you for a moment. "Have you been doing something to your skin or is it just the perfect air of the city that does that?"

You brought your gloved hands to your cheeks, not really having changed your routine. "I'll have to look at what was in that champagne they served at the masquerade."

She raised her eyebrows, then frowned. "Masquerade?"

"Let's walk home," you said as you started to move forward, "I'll tell you one the way."

"You seem to be having a whole lot of fun without me around, young lady. I envy you," sighed Eris. "I don't get many highlights in my days."

"Am I not the highlight of your day?’"

"As long as we aren't in a warm place, you're not."

"Ouch!" you say falsely offended, bringing your hand to your chest. "This vexes me."

"I'm sure you'll overcome this affront." She pressed her shoulder against yours. "Tell me about what I missed. Since when do you go to masquerades?"

You sighed, a wisp of steam rising into the sky as you finally reached the end of the bridge. "After the exams, our dear Jayce Talis asked us to come with him to a masquerade because he was terrified of it."

"Us? Did Sky come with you?" Eris repeated, arching an eyebrow. 

You shook your head, as if it was really ridiculous. "If only it had been Sky," you turned to her. "The Emperor himself has honoured us with his presence."

"Are things always this thorny with him?" She questioned.

You shrugged. "I don't know."

"You? Not knowing? That's a first," Eris chuckled.

"It's just... I don't know." You sighed, taking a turn with Eris. "There's change everywhere and I still have to get used to it, change in my relationships, in my mind." You let your shoulders drop. "Maybe I also need a change of scenery."

"Buy a plant." sighed Eris at the sight of the stairs you were about to climb.

"Won't be needed," you sneered. "Turns out we're going to Demacia once the holidays are over, apparently."

"Demacia?" Eris exclaimed, "I'll need to make you a list of things to bring me back."

"Do I need to take a second suitcase if I'm going to bring everything back?" You asked.

"You'll need to pack a second suitcase so I can sneak in and come with you."

"How should I explain this to security?"

She shrugged, pressing her lips forward in a pout. "They'll just pass me off as a national treasure."

You chuckled, Eris smiling back before resuming.

"But weren't your exams supposed to be after the holidays?"

"That's the thing, I've already taken them."

She looked at you deeply confused.

"I know," you confirmed by the look on her face, "had a near death experience. Overworked myself."

"Nobody's surprised so far," Eris confirmed.

"Underslept," you went on.

"As always."

"Under ate."

Eris turned to you. "This is actually starting to border on dangerous."

"So I ended up very ill, passed out and spent a feverish night during which..."

You thought back to that morning, remembering the sunlight streaming through Viktor's hair, his fingers resting on your forehead before returning to his temple, his insistence that you get some rest.

"Which?" asked Eris awaiting the end of your sentence.

You swallowed, sniffling as your nose began to get damp from the cold. "During which Viktor stayed by my side to make sure I was okay."

She arched an eyebrow, a naughty little smile playing on her lips.

"And..." she said, her tone a little playful as you sensed what she was about to say, "are you sure the dislike is mutual?"

You sighed almost brutally. "Not you too."

"Who else theorises my way?"

"Who else but Selene?"

"Ah, the wisest woman alive," she exhaled. "Is he here during the holidays, Vik-tor?"

She deliberately lengthened the pronunciation of his name, making you roll your eyes. "Apparently, yes. Jayce and him are staying over in their apartment."

"Great, sounds like plan for us to meet them."

"You want to meet the number one cause that got me to almost shake hands with death?"

"He is also the number one cause that pulled you out of this situation which I suppose you got yourself into all on your own." She had a point, and you half-closed your mouth, but she just took the wind out of your sails. "Your clit has millions of nerve endings but it's still less sensitive than your ego."

Shocked by the stupidity of her sentence, you laughed nervously, her joining you in a fit of laughter.

"I'll know what to write in my presentation on Zaun's slang."

"I hope you'll give me proper credit."

"Of course I do. I just hope the teacher marking us doesn't put ‘verbal drip’ in the margin. I'd risk 15 years of psychotherapy just to be able to cherish the hope of recovering from that."

"The famous paper you're sharing with the charming Viktor."

"You call him charming when you haven't even seen him."

"What, isn't he charming?"

You thought back to the masquerade, his dark hair with strands falling lightly over his mask, his amber eyes highlighted with kohl piercing you as he sketched a smile that raised the mole on his cheek.

"I suppose by most standards he's not bad."

"Not bad. I suppose I'll see for myself."

"I will use your vocal cords as floss," you breathed once more as you continued on your way.

"Use one of Talis' hair instead, I'm sure it'll be cleaner than anything from Zaun."

"Leave Jayce out of this, poor guy has had enough of our constant bickering with Viktor for his entire life."

"You're already acting like an old couple," quipped Eris.

"I wish you the mumps," you grumbled, "but speaking of couples, Jayce is apparently dating none other than Mel Medarda."

She turned to you. "The counsellor?" She asked in confirmation.

"Yup, met her at the masquerade."

"How is she? Apart from breathtakingly gorgeous and perfect?" Questioned Eris.

"I don't like saying bad things about people, but she's actually nice," you replied. 

"Hmm," she hummed. "Did you know that If given access to it, butterflies will happily drink blood?"

You turned to her, the change in conversation seeming strange. "Really."

"Yes," she continued, "they won't bite or harm other creatures to get it though. They are solely taking advantage of whatever foods are available in their environment. So most of those up above aren't too far off. Their beauty and supposed simplicity isn't everything, especially in a world as gilded and polished as Piltover's." Her eyes went to the golden tower of the council. "Do you think she's a butterfly?"

You now understood her reasoning. Sometimes you didn't always understand what she was trying to get across, unpredictable as she was. "I don't think she's much of a butterfly, I see her more like a dove in a golden cage."

"I don't have the material to be one of these birds, but if I was a bird..." began Eris, and you felt a déjà vu of conversation emerge following the end of your masquerade evening.

"What, you wish you could fly?"

"I know who I'd shit on."

You huffed. "Got a target in mind?"

"Not for now, but I guess you got yours?" She kept teasing you, and you knew you'd never get to the bottom of it.

"Apparently not any more, we're currently on a truce."

"A truce," she nodded once, dramatically. 

"What does it consist of?"

"Fewer problems, more help, more opportunities, and..." you thought for a moment about Viktor's coat still lying in your dressing room, "less cold."

"Less cold?" She repeated.

"Mhm," you hummed as you finally reached the dormitory area.

"I think I'm going to like this Viktor," she confirmed.

"What, are you going to fall for his charms?"

"I'll leave this task to you, dearest trouble."

Eris had put her things in the bedroom, occupying Sky's bed, which would be free until the last weekend of the holidays. She knew the flat. During the times you'd had it to yourself when you weren't sharing it with anyone, she'd come and sleep there whenever she had the chance.

You couldn't count the number of times you'd both laughed there, the stupid things you'd done, or the number of heart-to-heart chats you'd had at three in the morning.

Despite Eris's many complaints, you took her to see Emmeline, who took her in her arms and, like a distant relative who talks about having changed our nappies when we were babies, kept telling her that she had changed.

With a few sweets offered, you returned to the dormitories, enjoying them while chatting about everything and anything. Her eyes inevitably fell on your tarot cards.

"Did you draw one every day?" She asked, stuffing another marzipan sweet into her mouth.

You swallowed your own mouthful, sucking the excess sugar off your fingers. "Apart from the few days I was too busy to study to do so, yeah."

She grabbed another sweet. "Did you do your reading this morning?"

"I thought that with you here we could get a better and proper reading, to see what I learned?"

"Oh you're a master of the art now?"

"I wouldn't go that far."

She wiped her fingers in a final gesture. "Let's go into the hall by the fireplace. Not that I don't like the flat, but being by a nice fire in a big armchair is much nicer."

And so, taking with you your own card deck, you headed down the hall. 

Most of the students had left to return to their families, leaving the building virtually deserted for your own delight. All the armchairs and sofas were free, and it was only natural that you should sit down on the two sofas facing each other by the fire.

Eris placed the box and the small booklet of your deck on the varnished wooden coffee table separating the both of you, keeping the cards in her bare fingers covered with a few tattoos along their length. They weren't her only tattoos, of course. She had a few on her arms, ink under the skin being almost unavoidable in Zaun. They were covered, though, by the long sleeves of the jumper you'd lent her when she arrived.

It felt good to abandon the academy uniform for a moment and dress without restraint. Oversized shirts, oversized hoodies and oversized pants were the watchwords for your holiday clothes, in contrast to the Academy vest that clung to your body all the time.

"A general reading?" She questioned, kocking on the back and front of the deck.

"I guess," you breathed as you leaned over, elbow on your knees, "I just hope I don't end up with another tower again."

"Wasn't it for the best though?"

You thought back over the last few months, the constant torment hadn't been pleasant at all, but the achievements you'd made were undoubtedly a real step forward.

"Yeah," you half admitted.

Eris huffed, knowing full well that you wouldn't fully concede this fact even if it were scientifically proven. In a perfect, expert gesture, she spread out the line of cards.

"Just three cards right?"

"Just three cards, for now at least."

Just like two months ago, you repeated your gestures, letting your hand float over the cards like a storm cloud looking for the highest point to strike with its thunderbolt. Once the three cards had been drawn, Eris folded the clean cards back into a perfectly straight deck.

"Let's see what we're working with."

She turned over the first card. Four of Swords. The card was covered in grey, a surprise considering the rest of her deck's twins always sported a variety of colours.

"Good start." commented Eris before moving on to the second card.

Two of Wands, a man in a carmine cloak, was looking into the distance.

"Adds up," she confirmed before finally reaching the last card.

The Lovers.

Your eyes met Eris's, pressing her lips and eyes hard as she tried to stop herself from laughing.

"Whatever you're about to say, don't," you decided.

She had to take a deep breath to refocus and stop herself from giggling.

"I'm not the one who pulled the cards," she almost coughed as she grabbed the deck and looked at the shadow card. "Interesting."

"How interesting?"

She turned the deck towards you. "Interesting."

The Empress reigned under it.

You swallowed, thinking back to the Emperor card drawn for Viktor, your eyes drifting inevitably to the lovers card.

"Much more positive than our last draw, if I may say so."

You say nothing, simply sighing as you place one of your hands in the palm of the other. "Just start it."

She cleared her throat, putting the deck down again and letting the Empress reign over the top of the deck. She picked up the Four of Swords card.

"That's pretty much in line with what's been going on lately, and by that I mean relaxing."

"So I'm just... resting?"

"Not just resting, you're resting like a hero. Not everyone has their recumbent in a church. I take it the exams went well all things considered?"

"First place," you replied.

She pressed her lips into an inverted smile and shook her head. "So mediocre, I expected better than you."

You smiled at her sarcasm, you missed her teasing.

"In any case, you left a part of yourself there that was no longer useful, because to have a recumbent on your grave you have to be dead."

You thought back to the death card you'd drawn and Sky had read to you. The reaper had done his work so that with his sickle the weeds were cut down and new healthy plants grew there.

"In the stained glass window," she continued, "you can see two figures, one kneeling before the other. It's easy to see from this card that, through stability, it's peace that we're looking for - especially after experiencing pain - as opposed to the anguish of not being sure, of not even knowing if tomorrow there won't have been something that will have made us see everything differently."

The champagne hadn't betrayed you by making you agree to things you would otherwise have thought you'd never have said yes to.

"It was a situation of stagnation that you cut out," Eris pointed out, "values inculcated by parents or other authority figures that you had no use in following any longer, that you took on yourself without questioning them."

"So basically I was stupid?"

"Why are you saying this in the past tense?"

You giggled, "Shut up."

She smiled, continuing her explanation. "It was mostly a refusal to reconsider things; resentment or refusal to give a second chance. You stayed in that place that didn't suit you because you were already there, it was something you knew and there's nothing more reassuring than things you know - even if they hurt you." She reassured following your question. "It's a card that represents retirement, isolation, sleep and illness. An excellent moment of respite during which you can contemplate the past, learn from it and make peace with what you've been through."

‘’Right, enough about my past.‘’ You sighed, realising that the cards were obviously well aware of what had happened. "What about my future?"

"You're skipping a step here," she said as she put the card back down, taking the Two of Wands, "because before your future, there's your present."

"It's just a transition between past and future, present doesn't exist, there are only 2 times."

"There are four times," Eris pointed out. "Past," her fingers pointed at the Four of Swords as if she had a pistol, "present," she pressed them against the Two of Wands, "future," her fingers reached for the title of the Lovers, and just as you thought she'd be pointing at the Empress, she pointed one hand at the it while the other aimed her fingers at you, "and forever. It's a time too often forgotten since it's the only time we live entirely, but it truly exists."

You sighed, nodding at her lesson as she picked up the Two of Wands card.

"After the four, whose monotonous stability has taken us out of repetitive circles, the two is an encounter, but not just any encounter."

"Am I going to meet someone again?" You huffed, the prospect not thrilling you any more than that.

"Not necessarily. As you probably know from the tarot's classification of colours, the wands represent desire, the swords rule the realm of the mind, the cups are the emotions, and since there's nothing left in us after those three, what's left is the material, which is governed by the pentacles. What can desire encounter? Nothing but the world, against which it will have to measure itself if it wants to achieve."

"So I'm going to conquer Demacia, am I?" You leaned back, looking at the card. "That's still in the future, not the present."

"That's because Meeting plus Desire equals evaluation. You're evaluating in the present what's going to happen."

You understood the intriguing twists and turns of the multi-card tarot reading more and more. It was completely different from the simple one-card readings you used to do for yourself.

"The first thing desire does as it develops is confront reality." She brought both hands towards her, all her fingers together as she pointed at her shoulders. "I have my desire, I realise there's the world, so I wonder how I'm going to combine the two. It's evaluation time."

It was when Eris was working on the cards that you realised just how professional and educational she was. She was patient in spite of your useless remarks and knotted the lines of the cards together to make a clear and precise explanation.

"Behind the battlements," she continued, pointing to the symbols, "the man dominates the landscape: planning requires height and perspective. The globe in his hand," she pointed to the drawings one by one, "reminds us that the world belongs to him if he manages to combine his desire with reality. The village facing the ocean gives the idea of openness; the strategy in place allows us to open up our horizons. The blooming blasin that appears in the niche recalls the roses and lilies of the fool. Where the latter is in the thick of the action, the man on the Two of Wands is still observing. But in both cases, it's the same thing - which is it?"

You looked at the card, going over what Eris had explained to you. "Apply your will to the world."

She snapped her finger, pointing it at you. "Exactly. The whole point of these cards is that," she took the two cards in each of her hands to show them to you so that they faced each other, "where we've abandoned patterns that no longer interest us and that we followed blindly with the Four of Swords, the Two of Wands reminds us that now that a new world is open to us, it would be a good idea to evaluate it before you can forge your true will and apply it to the world around you."

She put the cards back down straight as she crossed her legs. "It's the evaluation of a project, a partner, an opportunity - gathering information, studying feasibility, a skills assessment or whatever to observe and ask ourselves if it's really what we want, and if it really corresponds to the expression of the need."

"Do the cards tell you all that?"

"I'm the card whisperer, haven't you confirmed that?" She designated her body, sweeping the air from her shoulders to her thigh.

"You do your readings to all your customers like this?"

"You're a very special client, I have to adapt to my audience," she said as she straightened, her eyes returning to the card. "It's also all about planning and preparing for a big trip, I hope Demacia will have a stoic enough stomach to digest you. In any case, you're asking yourself a lot of questions. Is it really what I want? Is it really possible to get what I want, given the circumstances and the means at my disposal?"

Were you ready to accept Viktor as a friend in your life? The last few months had worn you down so much that you were sincerely wondering how things were going to go. Would it be the same bickering every day? Would it be different? You still didn't know where you stood on the question, the map was right.

"Now," she rubbed her hands excitedly, "the future." She took the card in her hand, raising it to your eyes. "What do you see?"

You bent down, looking at the illustration. An angel filling the sky, a crown of leaves encircling its head, its carmine wings reaching down to a woman on the left and a man on the right, both naked. Your eyes returned to Eris', a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Please don't tell me it's about me and Viktor getting naked." You asked, your tone almost plaintive and asking for pity. Why did it always have to be about him?

She stretched her lips. "I'm not saying you and Viktor are going to get naked, but I definitely wanted to hear you say it."

You rolled your eyes, resting your chin on your palm.

"The lovers' card isn't necessarily to be taken literally, I thought with your immense sense of deduction you'd have come to that conclusion." She turned the card towards her. "The Lovers card is a card of choice. In the Original Tarot, it represents a, arrowed angel over a man hesitating between two women, one young and seductive and the other older and rather severe. It sometimes shows the crossroads between vice and virtue, with the idea that one should obviously choose virtue." She shrugged, rolling her eyes. "Only, if you had to have virtue, it would be by discipline, so the Cupid on the old card would have no place there. The Tarot should help to better understand who we are; therefore, the card of choice should teach me how to make the right choice for myself, not for moral teachers."

She turned the card back to you. "The central character in the old cards hesitates because he has as many reasons to go one way as the other. It's easy to imagine that the older woman is wiser than the younger one, but the younger one is kinder than the older one..." she swung the card between her fingers like a pendulum. "But the older one is more experienced... and so on. So the message is clear: when it comes to making the right choice for me, reason isn't going to help me. Choosing your career on purely objective criteria is the best way to make yourself unhappy, because it's choosing what anyone should do, when you're not just anyone."

She held the card out to you like a mirror, the varnish on the thick glazed paper gleaming in the firelight.

"How do I make the right choice for me?" You asked, your eyes moving from the card to find hers.

“By turning to the only thing at your disposal that isn't commonplace, your sensibility.” She smiled. "When it comes to the choices that matter, reason can only lose us. So you have an essential tool for the journey ahead of you," she says, her free fingers resting on the Two of Wands. "To make the right choice, your reason knows it's useless on its own, so it turns to your sensibility, because it's connected to something higher, something that's never wrong."

Your eyes drifted over the silhouette of the man and woman.

"This is the path to harmony. We mustn't forget that it's just as valuable as the path to glory, although we're only bombarded with examples of the latter, because to be known, you have to surpass the others."

Your first place seemed more bitter than the sweetness it had brought you when you learned of your victory. Your cheeks warmed as you thought of all the comments your little family Eris and Selene made had suggested.

"And the lovers' card has no sentimental connection?"

She offered you a benevolent smile. "It's the card of love as the most obvious cry of affection. The card of mutual attraction, of the sentimental relationship, of the soul mate - becoming one. A balanced love relationship where one matchs the other, where the partners are complementary and in tune with each other as opposed to love at first sight which can leave us in shock like a certain arcane number sixteen you know all too well, burning sexuality like that of the wands and their insatiable desire, or illusory relationships."

The man and woman on the lovers' card weren't necessarily just opposites, they were mirrors of each other.

"It's a bit scary," you admitted.

"The veracity of the cards?"

"That, and..." you pointed quickly at the card, "them."

"Love is either sought after as the solution to all problems, or shunned like the plague. It's neither. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Yeah well," you sighed, "can't help but be scared of something I never experienced."

You hadn't really had time to dwell on love affairs, so much so that until today you didn't have a single ex to your name. You had been so determined to achieve academic perfection that you had pushed any potential distraction out of your way. And now, with the possibility of a breakthrough on the horizon, you were terrified.

If love struck, would you be able to fight back?

"Let's not close any doors to the future," pointed Eris, laying down the lovers' card, “especially with a card like the one we have for the globality of this reading.”

She picked up the Empress card, presenting it to you again as if you were the artist's inspiration for this illustration.

"The Empress is the card of creation and fertility."

You recoiled slightly in surprise. "Please don't tell me that by some misfortune I'm going to get pregnant."

"It's not necessarily fertility in the literal sense, although that's part of it in certain specific cases," she cackled as her attention returned to the card. "It's the card of generation from within yourself. You have to have depth if you want to create, because to create is to bring something out of yourself. If the creative process is so mysterious, it's because it takes place in our deepest recesses. She is depicted in a sensual pose, creation being a matter of love and pleasure, as much in the flesh as in the intellect, because ideas germinate in the mind that conceives them."

You looked at the cards again, frowning.

"I see you're beginning to understand."

"So," you tried to summarise, "taking a step back from the situation and creating my own convictions is going to lead me to... fuck my way up to the top?"

Eris bobbed her head like one of those spring-loaded dolls, rolling her eyes at the sky. "Among other things." She put the card down, pointing as she had before at each symbol. "Three is a creation number, given that if you put 1+1 and turn off the light, it's through their power of generation, sexual, that they will become 3 by creating a child." She moved her finger. "The ball-shaped sceptre represents the total domination of the Empress of the Earth. Her crown extends her reign over the entire cycle of the year. The stars are six-pointed, the triangle forwards and backwards: her power is both material, nature, and spiritual, intelligence," she explained, her hands weighing the words our like a balance.

Your eyes drifted back to the Two of Wands, resting on the globe that man held.

"The eagle on the shield of the Original Tarot represents intelligence; this bird flies high and has a piercing gaze. However, its wing is still in its infancy. Its creativity has no other purpose than itself, so it can fly off in all directions without producing anything usable. The Emperor's eagle, on the other hand, will be complete because it will have added what the Empress lacks in order to master the whole process of the material world."

She exchanged a look with you. "She represents the creation of harmony from disordered elements so that the matter develops freely, like building a system or a plan. It's also femininity in full bloom, sensual, self-confident, seductive," she winked at you in an exaggerated way that made you smile. "It's about building a relationship with for mutual development, but not only that." She moistened her lips. "It's what you create out of yourself, the protector, the one who cares, who develops, who accompanies. The one who helps a company, a group or a project to grow."

She straightened up after this listing. "Something is born, brought into being, cultivated or made to believe: a vocation, possibilities. It's Abundance, and being ready to share its wealth with others, out of pleasure and love." She turned her eyes for a moment to the fire in the fireplace. "A simple ‘want’ is not enough to move the fixtures that business creation requires, nor is a desire rooted in selfishness or hatred, like doing something only to break someone else."

She described a loose, descriptive movement over the cards with her arm. "So the Empress represents the power of generation, naked creativity, cool. But there's something missing," she smiled, "someone who's very creative can give birth to a whole bunch of great ideas... without ever achieving anything, because they go off in all directions." She turned to the deck and the card the Empress was covering. "You need structure and discipline for that."

She grabbed the card, bringing it close to the Empress's, and your lips parted in shock. 

“The Emperor will bring them both to us.”

The Emperor's card was there, its presence unchanged, its meaning weighing on your warming heart. She placed the last two cards on the table with an air of satisfaction. You looked at the deck for a moment, the cards interlocking. You took the Empress's card in your hand, hovering over every detail of ink and colour on it.

Was it really you? This charismatic, strong-willed being? Could you really become this, this abundant being?

"Wow," you breathed, setting the card down on the table as Eris picked up her sisters to put them away again and you slumped back on the sofa. "That's something."

"Yup," Eris confirmed.

You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment as your eyes drifted towards the fire, thinking about the huge bag of information and truths that Eris had just dumped on your thoughts and that you were probably going to be thinking about for a very long time. And yet one name kept lingering in your mind.

"Say," you asked, your eyes returning to her, "why do you all think that Viktor and I could be... something?"

She giggled, leaving the deck on the table before resting her elbow on the arm of the sofa and resting her cheek on her fist. "You're asking me that as my first question after this reading?"

You sighed, your knee jerking repeatedly as you lowered your eyes to the floor. "Just... answer the question."

She knew there were certain limits to bickering. "Well," she began, "from what I've been hearing from you, you truly respect him, as in the name at the top of your 'list of respect'. He practically saved your life when you were fighting against your own stubbornness, and..." she seemed to search for words for a moment. "I get the impression that he's the person you make the most effort to be accepted by in your entourage."

"And... on a deeper level?"

"On a deeper level, in my humble opinion as the heart sister and friend you've known the longest in your life, I get the impression that, subconsciously, you're seeking his approval. Because now that he's given you a taste of what it was like to lose on your own ground and made you realise how much it was destroying you, you're grateful to him even if you refuse to admit it, to others and to yourself." She watched you for a moment, circling you under her skilful, sharp gaze. "I think he's the first one who's reached your level, and managed to keep up with you without ever tiring, always trying to bring out the parts of you that you don't show to others. And that scares you," she shook her head, "but I honestly think the fact that he's come into your life is the best thing that's happened to you in a long time."

That's what you liked about Eris, her honesty. She didn't care about hurting people's feelings or exposing them raw to the eyes of all, time was too short for pointless little lies, and she realised the truth of that very early on.

And you weren't offended, but you felt stripped bare by her words. That was probably what frightened you, finding yourself and the truth shining through for everyone to see. That was probably why the lovers were undressed. They saw each other stripped of all lies, hearts open as they created harmony.

Only two people knew you completely, the two members of your family. But that you could find someone who wasn't part of this circle and who saw all these things in you and accepted them no matter what, to lead you towards the best? It was new, and there's nothing more terrifying than the new. But surely, that was the lesson of the cards.

Yet your train of thought was interrupted when two figures you recognised all too well entered the hall.

"I think " you croaked, Eris following your gaze and turning towards them.

Jayce and Viktor, in casual clothes, were approaching you.

Eris turned back to you, shocked and shaking her head. "Is that what you call not bad?!" she almost shouted in her whisper.

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your hands. "I said by most standards!"

"I'm going to end up having heart attacks if your judgement's this poor."

"Hey there!" called Jayce as he approached. "Didn't think I'd find you here."

He wore a charming smile, dressed in a chunky cream hoodie and brown jogging bottoms. You'd already described to Eris what Jayce looked like, bringing back one of the class photos from your year so she could really see him.

Viktor, on the other hand, was wearing a brown turtleneck covered by a black cardigan, as were his wide pleated plaid trousers. He was frowning, his eyes shifting from you to Eris in confusion.

Eris turned to you, waiting for you to make the introductions.

"Jayce, Viktor," you pointed at Eris, "this is Eris. My sister."

"Pleased to meet you, Jayce," the latter smiled, extending his hand to shake hers as Eris stood up.

"Eris," she replied as Jayce gave way to his sidekick.

"Viktor," he said, squeezing her hand.

"I know," Eris smiled proudly as she turned her gaze back to you, "I've heard a lot about you."

You pressed your tongue lightly against the inside of your mouth as you laughed tiredly. Of course, now that he was here, she was going to be as playful as could be.

"Really?" Said Viktor, surprised as he turned to you.

"Absolutely," Eris replied.

"You never mentioned Eris was your sister," Jayce remarked.

"Best friend, sister, it's the same thing to me," you ranswered simply.

"Is that a Tarot deck I see here?" remarked Viktor.

Jayce riveted his eyes on the object. "You guys were playing?" he asked curiously.

"Eris was giving me a reading for the times ahead and other advice," you corrected.

"I'm a professional reader," she confirmed, "that's my job."

"How does that work?" asked Jayce, his eyes lighting up with the excitement of discovering something new.

"I can do a reading for you if it's okay with your schedule?" she suggested.

"Oh, we're just here to read and chat by the fire, nothing will be disturbed." Viktor assured her, resting his eyes on yours.

"All right then, let's go," she said, grabbing the deck. 

Without missing a beat, Jayce took his place on the sofa where Eris was sitting. Viktor exchanged a glance with you, and you shrugged your shoulders and pointed to the seat next to you. Eris's words echoed as the leather slumped not far from you and Viktor placed his cane against the table.

"Alright, let me explain," began Eris as she rolled up her sleeves to reveal her tattoos. 

Jayce seemed blown away by them, and you could feel his lips burning with the famous ‘did these hurt?’ which he never dared to say.

"I'm going to shuffle the cards so they're well mixed, then I'm going to...’’

But the conversation slowly faded into the background when Viktor spoke to you.

"I didn't think you'd dress like this on the daily," his voice was low, obviously not wishing to disturb the explanation to Jayce who seemed far too excited for this activity.

"What, you thought I slept in my uniform or something?" you questioned back.

He shrugged. "A bit."

You couldn't help but crack a smile before redirecting your gaze to Eris, looking at you both with a knowing glance.

Your smile faded as you straightened up, curious to see what Jayce would come up with.

"So all I have to do is take three cards?" He asked again.

"Yes," confirmed Eris.

"And can I show them or not?"

"Jayce, it's not a magic trick," informed Viktor.

Jayce turned to you, apparently waiting for your opinion too.

"Just pick three cards Jayce, the ones that call to you the most," you replied, resting your cheek on your fist.

"How do I know if they're calling me?" He questioned.

Viktor was already bringing his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose as Eris explained again. "Just take the cards you wish to take."

He straightened. "There are no traps are there?"

You and Viktor sighed in unison as you just urged him to take his damned cards.

"Alright alright fine," sighed the latter, raising his hands in the air, "left hand, right?" He asked to Eris.

"Yes," confirmed the witch.

"Right, off I go."

You exchanged glances with Viktor, both of you rolling your eyes as Jayce finally picked up his first card.

"Where do you want me to put it?"

"Anywhere," laughed Eris. "Jayce, you can't make any mistakes with tarot, you know that, right?"

‘’Right,‘’ he nodded, placing the first card in front of him above the card line.

The ace of Pentacle arrived on the table.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Jayce asked immediately.

"That depends on what you draw next," laughed Eris, ‘just keep pulling.’’

Jayce then drew the eight of pentacles, immediately turning to Eris to gauge her reaction as she looked at him with eyes that said ‘you know what I'm going to say’.

He then drew his last card, the nine of cups.

"Okay," smiled Eris as she picked up the rest of the cards and gathered them into a compact pile, turning it over and smiling at Jayce.

"Is it good?" He asked, turning to you and Viktor.

"It's horrible," you breathed.

His face decomposed. "Is it?"

"No, I just said that to tease you, you've got a good game," you turned to Eris, ‘’right?"

She giggled, uncovering the sun like shadow card.

"It's splendid, my dears."

Joy returned to Jayce's face like a dog presented with a bone. Viktor propped his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers as he watched the set.

"Well," began Eris, clearing her throat, "I'm going to proceed as I usually do with my dear inexterminable microbe here and make a simple reading. One card for the past," she rested her fingers on the Ace of Pentacles, “one for the present,” on the Eight of Pentacles, “one for the future,” on the Nine of Cups, “and one card that will give the overall colour to the spread and potentially give us some advice.”

"Okay," Jayce replied, eager to hear what she had to say.

"First of all, we have the Ace of Pentacles. The Ace is used to place us in the field we're going to work in; for this one it's the material field, and this one is fraught with possibilities."

She took the card in her hand and turned to an angle where you could all see the card. 

"The divine hand emerging from the clouds reminds us that the material realm, like the others, is a given; it's up to us to do something with it. A garden of lilies is traversed by an alley that passes under an arch, flowered with roses and leading to the mountains. Thought is born of matter and, in any case, you can't rise without the necessary material foundations. As for the pentacle, it's a sign of protection - upright, it's a representation of man with his head, or spirituality and consciousness, at the top and his two feet at the bottom, anchored in the earth. That's the attitude you need if you want to prosper in and with the world."

"Am I in the right inclination?" Asked Jayce.

"Absolutely," reassured Eris. "Now that we know all these elements, how can this help us? Well, the Ace of Pentacles represents a material opportunity, something to be developed in the concrete domain. It's the birth of a new interest or a new energy in the material and financial spheres. Didn't you have a career change last summer or something like that?"

‘’Yes,‘’ Jayce exclaimed, ‘’how do you know?" He turned to you. "Did you talk to her about it?"

"Talked about what?" You said with a shrug. "I'd only told her about the explosion in your flat and my concerns about your trial, that's all."

He seemed to soften at the word "concern".

"In any case," continued Eris, "the Ace of Pentacles often represents a job offer and the possibility of professional advancement. It's synonymous with a new project, and sometimes an influx of money from an unforeseen or unexpected source.’

You thought back to the few bills he had given you without any difficulty so that you could purchase a dress.

"That's incredible," he mumbled, all surprised, "don't you think Vik?"

"Yes," he admitted, "but I'm waiting to see the whole result.’ 

"Let's move on to the present, the Eight of Pentacles." She put down the Ace to take the next card. "We remain in the realm of the material and following the financial influx that the Ace of Pentacles was able to bring, there is the expression of the free with the eight and the lemniscate for its infinity. We have the talent, the materials, the knowledge and the ability to concentrate, so we can produce without hindrance."

Jayce seemed to be hanging on her every word, while Viktor seemed increasingly interested and methodically observant.

Eris's slender finger traced along the card. ‘The Pentacles are neatly lined up on the fully-covered beam and spill out onto the floor, and the craftsman has so many of them that he doesn't know where to put them. The bench can be seen as a representation of the skills he can rely on. The small village behind could mean that the craftsman can devote himself freely to his work because he knows that the other members of society will provide for his other needs." So she turned to Jayce. "I suppose living here in such a small flat can't be very practical for carrying out your projects, is your apartment still being refurbished?"

Jayce looked at her with wide eyes, turning to Viktor who maintained an inflexible phlegm, but you knew him well enough by now to recognise that he was intrigued by this discussion.

"How do you know that-"

"I don't know anything," smiled Eris, "I just read the cards and follow my intuition which, luckily, is rarely wrong."

"Well, that's just it," Jayce breathed, turning to you, "I got the go-ahead yesterday to move back into the flat."

You straightened. "You're moving out?"

"We're moving out," Viktor corrected.

The news, strangely enough, fell on you like a weight. Your eyes darted back and forth between Viktor and Jayce.

"When are you leaving?" you asked.

"Tomorrow morning," Jayce replied. "We finished packing up a few things today. We were going to come and see you later to tell you the news but," he smiled, "you were already here."

You turned to Viktor, who lowered his eyes. 'Just here to read and chat by the fire,' as he'd said. Why hadn't he just said they wanted to talk to you? Why did he change the subject?

You should have been relieved, to finally be rid of him on a daily basis, but you couldn't. 

"What about the future?" asked Jayce as he turned back to the deck. "What's announced?"

You tried to digest the information as quickly as he had, but it was simply impossible. You forced yourself to, letting Eris resume her explanation as your heart seemed to weigh its weight down your throat.

"The Nine of Cups is pure and simple satisfaction. The Nine is the very last single-digit number, so it's an achievement. But the Nine is still an accomplishment in the weakest sense of the word, because it shows us what it's like when you see something through to the end - you don't go beyond anything, you just achieve it and that's all there is to it. For cups, it's 'filling the feeling of lack to the end, to the point of satisfaction’." She pinched the card between her two fingers, twisting it back and forth. "It's wish fulfillment, getting what you want. It's not having to ask anymore, it's one partner always there for the other no matter what, and the other counting on it."

Eris's eyes moved from Viktor to Jayce with a gentle glance.

"And the sun assures us of this with its warm presence. It brings self-confidence, the ability to assert oneself with kindness and to share happiness and the joy of life." She put the card down again, bringing the reading to a close. ‘I don't know what you're working on, but I hope it's something good for the world.’

Jayce exchanged a knowing smile with Viktor, who always returned it with mischief in his eyes.

"Well, that's really surprising!" Jayce exclaimed. "It's so right... I didn't know you could deduce all those things from cards."

"There's nothing random about arcane blades," asserted Eris. She turned to Viktor. "Would you like one too?"

He seemed taken by surprise, parting his lips and lifting his chin with his hands as his eyes moved from Jayce, to Eris, to you.

"I," he cleared his throat, "I don't know if this thing is really for me."

Viktor? Hesitating? that was definitely new.

"What," you chuckled as you turned to him, "scared the cards are going to be bad?"

"I'm not particularly fond of the idea that they could be right and doom me to think that i am doomed." Viktor explained. "What if they are bad?"

"What if they're not?" You suggested with a shrugged smile.

He considered you for a moment. "Haven't you ever regretted one of the readings Miss Eris here made for you?" 

You sighed heavily. "It's sometimes painful," you returned Eris's gaze for a moment, she wore an infectious smirk that wasted no time in stretching your own lips to the side, "I have a very distinct one in mind that I deeply disliked. But..." you looked back at Viktor, "the cards were right, and for the better. Believe me."

He remained motionless for a moment, finally nodding.

"Alright," he nodded, turning to Eris who was already shuffling the cards. 

She made a perfect line of cards, and Viktor moved his left hand forward to take his first card.

The Ace of Swords. 

Viktor drew a second, and you frowned.

The Knight of Pentacles. Your tarot was a real player when it came to pulling out cards apparently.

"Him again," you breathed.

"What do you mean again?" questioned Eris.

"I'll explain some other time."

"And the last one?" Asked Eris as Viktor picked up another card.

Page of Cups.

Having two aces as first cards for both acolytes was interesting.

"Intriguing," admitted Eris as she collected the cards into a single deck to observe the shadow card.

Her eyes landed on you, stunned. You could feel what was about to happen.

"No," you breathed, "not him."

"Yes," confirmed Eris, "him."

Eris then held up the Emperor's card, and you brought your fingers up to pinch the bridge of your nose.

"That bad?" Inquired Viktor, surprised.

"No, it's not bad." You laughed to yourself for a moment, turning your gaze to his. "The cards are just very playful, that's all."

Eris set the deck down on the table, the Emperor facing Viktor.

"I suppose you met this Emperor in another reading?" he suggested.

You moistened your lips, tilting your head to the side. "Not just that."

Eris laughed with her nose, catching herself as she straightened up.

"One day," you said to Viktor, "I'll explain the whys and wherefores, don't worry."

He nodded weakly, turning to Eris. He seemed a little nervous, and you were discovering this phenomenon in him. He could be tense, but nervous?

"To begin with, then, the Ace of Swords, like the Ace of Pentacles, is a possibility, a spark that hasn't yet produced anything, but which puts us in the right field. The crown indicates that intelligence is the queen faculty. The palm on the right and the laurel branch on the left are symbols of victory."

Viktor like victory, of course.

"Intelligence is the highest of our faculties, enabling us to rise to the highest heights; it is what makes us a thinking creature. As for the mountains, they represent elevation, the sometimes arid and cold summits of thought. It's a card that represents intelligence and the fact that you can count on it in any situation."

Viktor turned to you, smiling. "You'd rather have that card for yourself than for me, wouldn't you?"

You chuckled. "Maybe once, but now I'm leaving it to you."

He seemed surprised by your answer for a moment, pressing his lips together for a second as he turned back to Eris who was changing cards.

"Now it's the Knight of Pentacles' turn. He represents reliability. He's down to earth, he does what needs to be done without question. This is the card of routine. In terms of symbols, on his helmet and in the horse's ears, there are oak leaves to remind us of what is rooted, powerful and takes time. The soil has furrows in it, so it's about being rooted to the earth, about regular, long, cyclical work like farming, where you have to show stamina and well-applied physical strength.’

"My perfect picture, I am the very definition of athleticism while my colleague Jayce Talis the skinny watches me do my thing in my corner," Viktor joked as he retrieved his cane in hand.

"Don't put the blame on me," interjected Jayce, "I offered to train at least your upper body when you sometimes come with me to the forge."

Viktor rolled his eyes, waiting for the rest of what Eris had to say.

"In any case, the Knight of Pentacles is the definition of moving slowly but surely, with methods that may not be original, but are tried and tested. It's a knight slow to anger who won't take the first step without being reassured of the other's intentions. If there is to be a meeting, it must take time to develop into a solid friendship before it is possible to move on to something more."

Viktor seemed to be playing with his cane, but was listening carefully to what Eris had to say. You remembered the day you read the information on the Knight of Pentacles' card. Physical and sensual. You began to blame the fire in the fireplace for the heat that was rising in your cheeks.

"Now let's move on to our last blade, the Page of Cups." She picked up the card in question. "The Page of Cups discovers, so in the emotional frame of the Cups, he discovers an idea. We welcome new information; we examine a way of thinking or a way of relating facts, of news that affects us."

Again she began to point to the various symbols one by one as you bent to see them better.

"The little fish swimming in the cup, to which the Page gives a sympathetic ear, represents the little voice of intuition, that elusive mystery that lives in our depths and sometimes comes to speak to us. The water lily flowers on his shirt can refer to sleep and the messages of dreams, as well as to the sacred nature of sensitivity that takes root in the depths. On all the cut figures, the water represents the changing and fluid nature of emotions, as well as their depth."

She placed the card on the table. "This is the card of announcement, of wonder, of joy, of something that touches. I should point out that it's still a card that's recognised as being very romantic, but not only that. It's the card of love, but it's also the card of a new friendship, the one that makes you discover that you really care about someone."

You bit the inside of your lips, the heat spreading from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, which you covered with your hand, a ghostly memory of Viktor's breath washing over you.

"At last," Eris grasped the Emperor's card, "the card of stability and anchoring that is the Emperor represents you here."

"Me? The Emperor?" Repeated Viktor, pointing his finger at himself.

"Yes," you said under your breath.

He turned to you for a moment, and you knew full well that when he found the time to discuss it with you, he wouldn't miss the opportunity.

"The Emperor completes the Empress's teaching by introducing the idea of rule, law and structure. Discipline doesn't mean giving in to the first distraction. He is a man who teaches us to take responsibility without deviating, to defend our principles without failing, to be obedient without letting ourselves be influenced. That's where his authority comes from - this lucid examination, it's the foundation that makes us sure, and allows us to act without wavering." She then placed the card back on the deck, closing the reading.

You had a feeling that Viktor wouldn't be the only one thinking about this reading. The cards reflected each other so perfectly it was impressive.

"Any questions?" Eris asked simply as she gathered up the cards and put them back in the box.

"How long have you been practising," Jayce asked, turning to her.

"I'd say... seven years?" She said, turning to you to make sure she was right.

"And a half," you added as she handed you the box of your tarot.

"Is this yours?" Asked Viktor.

"Yes, I draw one every morning to see what the day has in store or for advice," you explained.

Viktor turned to Eris and said, "Where do you practise?"

"In one of the streets on the entresol level." 

"Could I have the address?"

She seemed as surprised as you, glancing at you then back to Viktor. "An interest in spirituality?"

He exchanged a look with you. "Now yes."

After giving her shop address to Viktor, he and Jayce excused themselves and left to make sure all the boxes and other luggage were ready for the next day's departure.

You and Eris were back upstairs, you preparing the evening meal while she rushed to the shower to warm up from the absence of the fire she already missed so much.

You couldn't stop thinking about Viktor, about the changes, the ideas swarming around in your mind without ever finding respite or giving you any. You felt that the fact that he would no longer be in the building tomorrow gave you the impression that his absence would force you to think only of him.

But another subject was about to hit you, bitter, fearsome.

Eris stepped out of the shower, droplets of water beading from her hair and running down her tattooed arms. She crossed her arms seriously, pressing her shoulder against the doorframe as she crossed her leg.

"Do you remember my letter, when I mentioned there was something I needed to talk to you about?"

You stirred the forest pan over the stove, not looking away from the task as you expected mere gossip in the rising streets of Zaun. "Mhm?"

She sighed, watching you sternly.

"The child disappearances have started up again."

You froze in your tracks, the sound of the hood and the oil cooking the vegetables fading into a distant blur of sound.

You turned to Eris, almost trying to get her to repeat what she'd just said, as if she'd just resurrected an entire graveyard. "What?"

"Not just in Zaun," she continued, just as austerely, "I've had customers from Piltover. It's starting here too. It's very small and tiny as a disappearance compared to Zaun, but it's still there."

"Are you absolutely sure?" you asked, registering this information almost robotically.

She nodded. "When Renata Glasc came into my shop and I made her reader, she said his name."

You huffed, as if someone had just punched you in the stomach and expelled all the air your lungs held.

"Is the situation under hand?"

"Glasc is on it from what I know." 

You huffed with difficulty. "Could you um..." you felt your throat tighten, "could you continue cooking? I'm think I need a shower.

She smiled at you, a thin, empathetic one. "Take all the time you need."

"Thank you," you barely managed to say before moving towards the bathroom and carefully closing the door behind you.

Silently, with hasty movements as if all your clothes were ten times too hot on your skin, you got rid of each layer at record speed and turned on the water.

Your whole body was shaking like a leaf, your breath coming fast as you passed under the hot spray. Your eyes clouded over in a blur of tears, your whole face tensing, your brow furrowing as your nose scrunched up and your lips curled. You drew a huge, rapid, jerky breath, anger and despair contorting every feature of your face until your forehead ached as your hands ran over them as if trying to erase it, to dilute it under the shower water until everything was smooth and clean and you were pure again.

Your back jolted despite the warmth of the water running down your spine, the sobs attacking you as you placed one hand on the wall to keep yourself upright while the second pressed against your mouth to prevent any sound escaping from the prison bars of your fingers.

You only gave yourself a few moments to cry before letting the salt on your cheeks be washed away by the clear water of Piltover and turning off the shower. You didn't want to abuse it, even if all the drops it could have spilled down your body would never have been enough to bring the rain that would wash away the past!

Today had been too full changes, of emotions, of movements and unpredictable things that weighed on your mind like an elephant.

When you got out of the shower, Eris had already prepared the table and served your two plates.

"You know," she said with her mouth full, raising her fork in the air, "it's a bit hard to tell how you and Viktor stand."

You were still relieved at Eris's understanding. She had seen you cry very little over the years, the habit of choosing the excuse of the shower to have a moment when your sensitivity could take over and go beyond the limit of your eyes having come early in your friendship. And when you came back, she always had a different subject to discuss to take your mind off things.

With a tired smile, you took the chair opposite her and sat down.

"What do you mean?"

She took care to chew her mouthful to the end, winding her index finger in the air to ask you to wait. "Well," she finally swallowed, "I saw you staring at each other. I just can't be certain if it was sexual tension or murderous rage."

You let out a small laugh, your eyes still stinging from your tears and wrinkling with admiration for her.

The evening continued on a variety of topics, with countless teases about Viktor, who seemed to be burning a hole in her lip.

And when you both went to bed to find respite, the walk in the cold having knocked Eris out with sleep, yours didn't come. The cards all came back into your head like emblematic figures from a distant story, a fairy tale with final lessons for little children.

You thought of the Empress and the Emperor. You thought of yourself, of Viktor.

The same warm palpitations in your heart and stomach returned as you thought of him. You brought one to the one, the second to the other, like a stethoscope trying to discern any worries or disturbances.

It was warm, sweet, it was a hope that sprang up in your soul and filled you completely.

Did the Empress have a metaphorical womb pregnant with a budding love, ready to grow?

You thought back to Eris's words.

I think he's the first one who's reached your level, and managed to keep up with you without ever tiring, always trying to bring out the parts of you that you don't show to others.

Was it the warmth that sprang up deep inside you, like a candle in the darkness of a cavern containing thousands of crystals ready to sparkle, that he brought out?

When morning came, you had given up on the idea of sleeping and sat on your windowsill to watch the sun emerge in the distance.

You had thought for so long in the silence of this room that the inside of your body was a constant echo of thoughts reverberating against the walls of your skin and every corner of your mind. The sun was the first to say hello, and you smiled at it as it caressed your cheek with its warmth.

You'd fought with it so much that it had made your cheeks red. And you wanted to catch him, to hold him close to your chest so that he could feel the warmth of your heart, so much so that the night fell away. And now that you'd got to know the moon thanks to him, you told yourself that you'd just put everything out like a poor cigarette. But we're talking about the moon, and the sun, that's not nothing.

His reality had made the wheat grow, and the truth had made men eat, but reality was coming towards you little by little with a flag, staggering.

Down below, approaching the building in the soft silence of the morning and the waking city, a van pulled up.

The day was here, and you wanted to bury it in a suitcase to let the night stay a little longer, to keep the moonlight on your skin and in the glow of your eyes.

Your gaze turned away from the truck for a moment, back to the dressing room. The coat.

In the greatest of hasty silences, you pulled on a heavy jumper, trotting on tiptoe to the dressing room to pick up the coat that still had his smell on it. You gently turned the key to the apartment, moving from the silence of the bedroom to that of the corridor bathed in half-light. 

You hurried down the stairs, praying that the van hadn't left, that they hadn't left, and that you'd be able to say ‘see you soon’.

When you got downstairs, Viktor was standing in front of the entrance, just beyond the door, outside, with his back to you.

You inhaled, trying to hide your miserable gasping breath deep in your chest.

You were moving forward, feeling cold. The coat could have given you that warmth, but you didn't put it on. Your hand came to rest on the handle of the golden door, and you pushed it open despite the trembling you presumed to be due to the fatigue of a sleepless night.

Viktor turned and his eyes fell on you. His expression wasn't wide with surprise, and his eyebrows weren't furrowed, but you could feel a flicker of regret on his face that was swept away as soon as he realised it was you.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, the stillness of the morning making you both feel as if the whole town would wake up at once if you spoke.

"Hey," you managed to say softly.

He gave a surprised little smile. "Hey."

You breathed in, swallowing as you tried to work out if all the ideas you'd been fed about him wanted to come back through your throat.

"So uh," you jerked your chin towards the van, "you're all set to go ?

Miserable small talk.

Viktor looked at you calmly. ‘The removal man is still inside picking up the rest of the boxes."

"Oh," you nodded, "Jayce isn't with you?"

"He's gone to the flat to settle the last few things that needed his attention."

His eyes never left you, his face a peaceful, unchanged emotion. It feels like a dream, you thought, but it's not, and that's probably the most reassuring thing about it.

You tightened your grip on the coat slightly, and finally let the breath you'd been holding expel itself from your lungs.

"You're fierce as my rival," you admitted, "but I think I prefer you better when you're not."

Viktor remained motionless for a moment, the light breeze in the air combing a few strands of his hair. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, barely rising.

"What good is a truce if we're not rivals anymore, then?" he asked.

"The truce can just turn into a deal," you suggested almost hastily, "a friends' deal."

He smiled at last, and your stomach warmed in the dead of winter.

"Friends," he repeated as if testing the taste the word had in his mouth, "I like the sound of that."

You smiled back, and relief washed over you.

He changed the grip on his cane, straightening up. "Any clauses you want to add to the truce, Miss?"

You couldn't help asking. "Why do you call me Miss all the time?"

His eyes remained serenely in yours, silently letting a moment pass.

"I can't say yet. Someday, maybe," he replied as if he'd just come back from somewhere else.

You nodded. "Alright." You straightened your back and cleared your throat before raising your eyebrows. "I just have one clause then."

"Go on," he nodded, curious.

A satisfied smirk spread across your face. "All your coffees are free if you come by the Brown Bitt, so you better come often with such an offer."

He laughed softly, his eyes dropping to his shoes for a moment before returning to yours.

"I'd be a fool to refuse such a discount."

"Well," you shrugged, "there is some kind of dignity being the first fool of the academy."

"Last time I checked," he said, raising an eyebrow, "you're the first of the Academy."

"Last time I checked with Eris, one and two together make the three of creativity." You smiled. "What did Heimerdinger say again? About us joining our forces for the presentation."

Viktor sighed, starting to recite. "There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class - you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly. None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you."

"Teamwork," you both pronounced, nodding and smiling.

"You remember it so vividly," you grinned, impressed.

He nodded. "Eh, better have a sharp memory and wit to follow with Heimerdinger, if you can't race."

Your lips parted, remembering a little too well the first day we worked together. "Please tell me Jayce never heard of this."

"I recite your words to him every night before sleeping like a prayer," he sneered.

Another moment of silence passed, both your breaths billowing in the air.

"When we'll all be settled," he finally said, "come to the flat."

You clasped your hands together. "Is that a challenge?"

"No," he chuckled, "just an invitation."

‘"As long as you don't organise masquerades in Jayce's apartment every other night, I will."

"Nah," he admitted as the wrinkles in his nose crinkled for a moment, "we keep that outside our explosive apartment."

It was refreshing to be able to listen to Viktor's comments and not find annoyance in them, just laughter.

"Speaking of masquerades," you realised as you handed him his perfectly smooth coat, "I took care of it."

His leather-gloved fingers closed over the dark fabric.

"I'm sure you did," he said, his eyes moving from the fabric to yours.

Behind you, you heard the distinct sound of castors on the floor of the hall, and turned towards the man dragging a trolley with a few boxes piled on it.

"All clean," he warned as he passed you both and began to stack the boxes in the back of the vehicle.

He quickly closed the boot and climbed into the front seat next to the steering wheel.

"See you to the demacia boarding airship?" asked Viktor.

You smiled. "Don't be late."

He gave you one last smile.

"No chance."

✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt @enoojnij @stilinskisensation @emlovesya @soupsaurus @luvreadingfics @the-valars-sapphire @solbringer @adorabluesposts @pxszels @nerolovesseongjiyuk @cyberwears @cryptidcut @seohaepeachyun @danielsbackupglasses @2hiigh2cry @16novvs @cicadastoner @patchs-cuiosity-corner @w41k3r-94290 @minniiv @roku907 @lumilarity @peachy-writings @disturbyn

[thisweknow]

I very much understand your frustration with the "you! are! valid!" Tumblr culture from the mid-2010s, that was something that honestly made me feel so isolated as a teenager. I hated hearing "it gets better!" and watching my life fall further and further apart with everyone telling me that it would all be fine one day. It felt hypocritical. It WAS hypocritical—to tell me my feelings and my experiences were valid and then to just absolutely steamroll me when I expressed my frustrations and fears.

I started to favor the phrase "everything changes" around the time I turned 16. I liked the idea of neutrality, it was something I'd seen as a suggestion relating to body positivity, which I struggle(d) with greatly. The basic premise was that if you couldn't say anything positive, try saying something neutral. Everything changes is neutral. It's not saying it'll get better necessarily, but not that it would be worse, either. It felt like the closest to a truth I could have. What I was dealing with in any given moment wouldn't last forever. Everything changes, my circumstances today are entirely different than my circumstances tomorrow, even if it doesn't always feel like it.

I've let that phrase carry me for years. In the bad moments I remind myself that everything changes, and the world parts that suck won't suck so immediately forever. In the good moments I remind myself that everything changes, and I should hold on to those and savor them for what they are, even if they're peppered in with the worst moments.

It's not to say that I don't remember the bad moments now—I very much do. I can remember a lot of the trauma of my childhood and if I let myself sit with it for too long I can feel what it was like to sit awake at 3 AM sobbing in my room wishing that I was no longer here. I don't think I will ever truly forget that. I can say that those parts aren't the part on my mind anymore. When I look back at my life I tend to look with rose colored glasses at the parts that were good. The moments I spent with my friends, the nights I'd sneak out to ride my bike in the peace and silence of the small town I lived in, the rehearsals for plays that I dreaded going to but loved being in, the way my dog would curl up at my feet and sleep there all night when I was sad—the list goes on. The bad parts are still very much remembered and acknowledged, but the good parts are the ones I think about and the ones I miss.

I know that I struggled for a long time with feeling guilty about having moments I looked back on that I didn't hate. This was especially true after leaving an abusive relationship. I knew the person I had left had been abusive and had done horrible things to me, that I had sustained damages that I wasn't sure I could recover from. Yet I still had moments I looked back on fondly. Moments where I had genuinely cared for my abuser, moments of sweetness and moments of joy, moments of calm and peace that I hadn't had with anyone else. I felt like looking at those moments somewhat fondly cheapened my experiences, as if it was somehow an admission of fraud to acknowledge that even the worst thing that had ever happened to me had its silver linings. It took years of therapy and dedicated self work to finally understand that abuse doesn't happen in a vacuum and that it's okay to miss those good moments, however many there might be, even when we know the overall situation was awful.

It's okay to savor the good things when they come your way. A journal entry from when I was about 17 sums it up really well: I don't want to be happy all of the time. If I was happy all of the time I wouldn't really feel happy anymore, would I? It would just be my normal, my neutral. I want to feel positive at least 75% of the time, that's my goal. I want to feel sad sometimes, too. I want to feel angry and hurt, I want to feel excited and happy and in love, too. I want to experience every emotion life has to offer, even the sucky ones. I don't think I would appreciate happiness if I didn't experience everything else, yknow?

btw you will miss this in 5 or 10 years. memory will smooth these circumstances down like a river stone, and you will find yourself longing for a shade of light or a moment of this particular innocence. you don't know about what happens next, and one day that will be the most alluring thing of all. don't leave it all for nostalgia. have a nice night now, whatever night it happens to be.

[itsnesss]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 | lee myung-gi (player 333) × fem!reader

summary | you and player 333, race against the clock to find a door. when all hope seems lost, he risks everything to save you

warnings | violence, implied death, panic, and emotional distress, kissing

word count | 1.5 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me thanks ᡣ𐭩

The echo of footsteps reverberates around you like a drum in the endless labyrinth. Screams, chaos... everything blends together, and your breathing becomes just another noise. You look around, searching for something—someone—to save you, but all you see are distorted faces, moving without stopping.

“Find a partner and a door before time runs out, or you will be eliminated.”

The words buzz in your head like a cruel hum. The timer on the wall, illuminated in intense red, counts down the seconds of your life.

00:58… 00:57… 00:56

You run toward a door, but someone else is already there.

"Please, wait for me!" you shout, your voice desperate and broken.

They don’t even bother to look at you. You feel a shove on your shoulder as someone else rushes past. Despair sinks into your chest, heavy as a stone, and you start to think there might be no way out.

00:45

You trip, and the cold, hard floor meets your knees. Tears burn in your eyes, but you can’t stop to cry. Not here, not now.

"I’m going to die."

The thought cuts into you like a knife. There’s no metaphor in it; it’s the most terrifying truth you’ve ever faced. If you don’t find a door, if you don’t find a partner, you’re done.

00:30

"Quick!"

A voice pulls you out of your trance. You lift your gaze and see him. It’s him: Lee Myung-Gi, player 333. His white shirt with the number is drenched in sweat, his dark hair disheveled, but his eyes… his eyes shine with a determination that throws you off.

"What are you doing down there? Get up!" he yells, extending his hand.

Your body reacts before your mind can process it. You grab his hand, his grip firm and steady, and he pulls you to your feet.

"Run with me!" he orders, and you do.

His hand doesn’t let go of yours as you sprint down the endless hallway. Every door you pass is already closed, its number dark. There are no options left, and you feel your legs about to give out at any moment.

00:15… 00:14… 00:13

"There!" he shouts, pointing to a door at the end of the hallway. It’s the last one.

Your heart speeds up even more, if that’s possible. But then you see it: someone else is running toward that door. A tall man, faster than the two of you, is only steps away from reaching it.

"No…" you whisper, feeling panic tighten your throat.

"Keep running!" Myung-Gi yells, suddenly letting go of your hand.

You watch as he launches himself at the other player, shoving him with all the force he has. The man stumbles and crashes to the ground, yelling in frustration as he tries to get back up.

"I’m sorry!" Myung-Gi shouts before turning back to you and grabbing your hand again.

"Run!"

You don’t have time to think about what he just did. Your feet move on pure instinct, and before you know it, he pushes you through the door and follows right behind you.

00:03… 00:02… 00:01… 00:00

The sound of the door closing is followed by deafening silence. Then, screams, gunshots… and silence again.

You collapse onto the floor, unable to stay on your feet. You’re trembling, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath.

"I’m sorry about that…" Myung-Gi says, leaning against the wall as he breathes heavily. "I didn’t want to do it, but there was no other way."

His voice is calm, but all you can think about is the man he left outside. The tears you’ve been holding back pour out in a hot, bitter stream.

"I can’t… I can’t do this anymore…" you whisper, feeling your entire body shatter inside.

He crosses the small space in a couple of steps and kneels in front of you.

"Hey… look at me. We’re alive. We’re here." His hand rests on your shoulder, firm but comforting.

You can’t help but look at him, even though your eyes are blurred with tears.

"Breathe with me, okay? Inhale… exhale… like this."

You try to follow him. His voice has something in it that soothes you, something that gives you a faint glimmer of hope.

"Thank you…" you manage to murmur. "For not leaving me."

He shakes his head, as if your words weren’t necessary.

"I wasn’t going to let you die. Not you.

His words hit you harder than any shove or fall. You look into his eyes, searching for something—maybe a reason, maybe comfort—and you find a warmth you didn’t expect.

"I don’t know what I would’ve done without you…"

"You don’t need to know. I’m here, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you."

Before you can think of a response, you lean into him, desperate for something to hold on to. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, warm and protective, and you rest your head against his chest.

The sound of his heart, strong and steady, is the only thing keeping you grounded.

"I’m here," he whispers, his voice soft against your hair. "You’re not alone."

When you finally lift your head, you realize how close your faces are. His warm breath brushes against your skin, and suddenly, the noise of the game seems to vanish.

He lifts a hand and caresses your cheek, his fingers tracing a delicate path.

"You have to be strong. For us."

And then, his lips meet yours.

It’s a kiss filled with everything you can’t put into words. Desperate, yet comforting, as if he’s trying to imprint on your skin the fact that you’re still alive.

When you pull away, your eyes meet his, and though tears still streak your face, they’re no longer from fear.

"We’ll get out of this together," he says, a small but firm smile on his face. "I promise."

[steveslevis]

throughout the great war

chapter 1 - bruised like violets

azriel x hewn city escapee!reader

summary: you come to Velaris hoping for a way to escape the horrors of Hewn City, and you’re immediately taken into the custody of the High Lord of the Night Court. you don't expect him to accommodate you so willingly, and you definitely don't expect him to inform you that you'd be entering a courtship with his Spymaster, Azriel.

warnings: mentions of torture, death, sexual assault and previous violence, death threats, arranged marriage

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist

As night approaches on your fifth day away from Hewn City, fear finally starts to settle into your bones. 

It’s the dead of winter and you’re in the middle of the mountains in the Night Court, cold chilling you to the core as you trek through the piling snow. The only thing keeping you afloat in the sea of white is the sight of Ramiel ahead of you, and the three stars atop its peak. Those glittering shards in the sky remind you of what you’re trying so hard to find, freedom. 

If only you could muster up enough strength to winnow just one more time. One more leap with your remaining strength hopefully would be able to get you somewhere safe. Your mind races as you think of what you can do, as you think about how you can make that last leap before the chill of the night takes you.

Settling onto your knees on the edge of a cliff, you stare up at those three stars for only a moment before squeezing your eyes shut. In the back of your mind, you can see where you want to go, where you know you’ll be safe. It’s a place you’d only been once, during your early years of life, when your brother had snuck you out of the city for a day of fun. You could barely envision it now, but the thought of the bustling streets filled with smiling people and bright shops fills you with hope.

It fills you with enough hope that you’re finally able to make that leap through the nothingness, finally able to make that leap towards the place you barely remember.

Finally able to make that leap towards the place that’s kept you motivated enough to stay alive for these past two hundred and seventy six years, despite all of the horrors you’d endured. 

Upon your descent from the nothingness between places, your knees thud against cold stone. The sound of whirling wind is replaced by the sound of laughter and music, and what seems to be a river on the other side of you. 

When you gather enough strength to open your eyes, the sight in front of you nearly brings you to tears. 

You go unnoticed where you land, at the mouth of an alleyway near a closed bakery. Fae lights twinkle above you, all throughout the street that you gaze down, lighting the way so you can see dozens, if not hundreds, of smiling fae on the road. There’s a butcher on the opposite side of you, a spice market across the way, and a handful of bustling restaurants. It’s a beautiful sight, the relief that fills your chest is unmistakable as you realize this is the place from your dreams, the city that you’ve yearned for since you were a young female. 

The relief doesn’t last for long, though. 

A plume of darkness swirls around your knees as your happy tears fall, making your brow furrow as the light from above you seems to diminish. Your heart pounds in your throat as you finally dare to look up, catching a glimpse of midnight black boots before tears blur your vision. Your head is fully tilted up when you blink them away, and your gaze locks with a pair of dark hazel eyes for only a moment. 

It’s only a moment before you’re engulfed in shadows, and in that moment you know you’re probably not going to like wherever it is you’re being taken 

___________________________________

The dungeon is cold and damp, reminding you all too well of your old home, of the cell that your father considered to be your bedroom. 

If it weren’t for the fact that there was a mysterious winged male looming above you now, you would’ve been convinced that you were back in that same basement you’d been locked in for over fifty years. 

“You’re not a citizen of Velaris.” he states simply, eyes narrowed as he reaches for the dagger at his side. “You have a chance to explain yourself freely, explain how you ended up in the middle of the city. Or I’ll have no choice but to make you confess.” 

You cower away from the male then, back slamming into the wall as he takes a step towards you. Tears fill your eyes as you shake your head, mind immediately brought back to all those times that your step-father, and the others, came into your so-called bedroom to torture you. Shadows snake around your wrists and throat tightly, constricting against the skin in a way that makes you let out a strangled scream as you squirm.

“I–I’m sorry!” you yelp, squeezing your eyes shut as you shudder in pain under the weight of the shadows on your skin. 

“Just confess what your intentions are.” he demands cooly, twirling his blade in his hands as he stares at you with dark eyes. “Tell me what you’re doing in this city and I’ll think about sparing you.”

“P–Please!” you cry out, a sob falling from your lips as you stare up at him. “I–I’ll tell you anything you want, I’m from H–Hewn City. I–I winnowed here from the mountains. Please, please don’t hurt me, please don’t kill me.” 

Your lip quivers and your hands shake as you curl your legs up to your chest, hoping to make yourself as small as possible so he’ll have mercy on you. Your body is almost entirely numb now, only feeling the fear gnawing at you as you rock back and forth on the cold stone floor, pleading softly to be spared while the shadows finally loosen their hold on you.

He almost drops the dagger when he finally takes a good look at you. As he watches you repeat the phrase please don’t hurt me over and over again, something stirs in the male’s chest. 

A sob catches in your throat when you hear him stagger, looking up to see him staring down at you with wide eyes. He’d staggered a step away from you, something like shock written on his features as he hastily shoved the dagger back into its sheath. 

“Stay right there.” he says in a low voice, “My shadows are watching you. So if you try to move, I will know.”

You don’t have time to question what he means about his shadows watching you, as he all but vanishes into thin air a second later. 

A shadow skitters around your wrist after he disappears, but it’s a gentle caress compared to the way they bound you as you were shadow-walked into this basement by the elusive male. The darkness swirls around your skin, seemingly attempting to soothe the bruises littering your arms as you sit there, quietly awaiting your fate. 

Though he’s only gone for five minutes, it seems like you’re alone for an eternity before the darkness brings him back to the cell. He’s not alone this time, though. Two high fae winnow into the room after him, and your heart threatens to fall through your stomach when they step into the cell, into the light where you can see them.

The High Lord and Lady of the Night Court are standing over you, their presence all but taking the air out of your lungs as you attempt to scramble to your feet in order to bow for them, just as the citizens of Hewn City were made to do every time they visited. You fall to your knees when you try to stand the first time, all of your energy wasted on your final winnow into the city, so you opt for bowing on your knees in front of the couple. 

A soft and surprisingly kind laugh falls from the High Lord’s lips as you do, but you don’t dare to look up as your mind races. You don’t even dare to look up when you hear someone shuffle towards you, shifting onto their knees in front of your cowering figure. A gentle hand caresses your shoulder, and you finally dare to look up from where you were staring at the stone. 

When you finally do, you see the High Lady staring at you with kind eyes and a gentle smile, sitting knee-to-knee with you on the dungeon floor.

“Hello, it’s Y/N, isn’t it?” she says slowly, letting her hand fall from your shoulder as you sit up. Your brow furrows as you look at her and nod, unsure of how she knows your name. “I met you during our last visit to your court.” 

Your mind races as you think about the last visit from the Inner Circle to the Court of Nightmares, though you don’t remember much. You do remember drinking one more glass of wine than your step-father had permitted you to drink, though, which had made him mad enough to throw you into your cell at the end of the festivities. He hadn’t even cared that you hit your head on the stone floor as he’d locked you up for the night, which explained why you couldn’t remember meeting the High Lady. But still, you nod at the woman in front of you, feigning a smile as she studies you.

“We aren’t here to hurt you.” the High Lord says from behind her, flicking a piece of invisible lint off his shoulder. “We just want to know why you’re here and who sent you.” 

“I–I, nobody sent me.” you stammer, shaking your head as you hastily wipe a tear from your cheek. “I w–winnowed here because I came here once during my childhood, with my brother. We visited once and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since. He–He told me this place was the Court of Dreams, I–I don’t know, I didn’t even know where I really was winnowing. I–I just willed myself to come here because I wanted to be somewhere safe for once in my life.”

“Safe?” the High Lady says, brow furrowed as she continues. “Were you in danger in the Court of Nightmares?” 

Feyre knew the answer to her own question before she asked it, as Hewn City was not a safe place for many females like you, but wanted to hear it from you. Your lip quivers as your eyes flicker between the three fae in front of you, as you contemplate your next words very carefully. 

“It’s okay, Y/N.” she says gently, reaching her hand out to hold yours, but you cower away from the touch quickly.

Your heart races, immediately regretting pulling away from the female. You flinch at your own quick movement, sure that she or one of the two males behind her are going to hit you for the mistake, but the blow never comes. Her hand retreats into her own lap instead, sorrow and understanding swimming in her eyes as she looks you over again. 

“Would it be easier for me to read your memories instead?” she suggests, a sad smile on her face, “Rather than speaking about it out loud?”

You nod slowly at the female. Soon after, you feel a talon of power raking through your mind, making you gasp in shock. 

It’s okay, she reassures you through your own mind, It’ll only take me a minute, I’ll be out as soon as I can.

You swallow harshly, but force another nod as she focuses all of her energy into the expanse of your mind. It’s not painful by any means, but it definitely feels weird to have someone snaking through your thoughts, to have the High Lady of the Night Court viewing your worst memories from your time in Hewn City. 

As promised, she’s in and out of your mind in under a minute, leaving you staring at her with wide eyes as she looks to the High Lord who stands at her right. He gives her a knowing nod, as if they’re talking without words, and the High Lady stands up then. She looks down at you after standing, offering both of her hands to you in order to help you up. You hesitantly take her hands, slowly rising from the stone as she holds on to you. 

“I’m going to take you to our home, to get you cleaned up and let you get some rest, if that’s alright with you.” she suggests. 

You furrow your brow at her kindness, something you haven’t experienced in a long time, but mumble a quick thank you in agreement as she winnows the two of you from the dungeon. 

__________________________

It’s well past dawn during the next day when you finally wake, squeezing your eyes shut as the light hits your eyes when you roll over. 

You forget where you are for only a moment, shooting up in the large, comfortable bed to reorient yourself to your surroundings. You quickly remember that you successfully escaped Hewn City less than a week ago, and had somehow escaped interrogation from a very mysterious male and ended up spending the night in the home of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. The room you slept in was large and bright, the four-poster bed in the middle was large enough to accommodate at least four of you in all honesty. 

Once you relax slightly on the bed, you hear voices outside your room, two that you’d come to recognize as the High Lord’s and the male who’d attempted to interrogate you, who you still hadn’t learned the name of. 

“There’s no fucking way, Rhysand.” the male sneered, you could hear the frustration in his voice. “I won’t tell her, not like this.”

“Regardless of if you tell her, you will do as I say, you will ma–” the High Lord’s voice is cut off by a growl.

“Don’t.” 

Rhysand sighs in response, and you can feel the tension carrying through the hallway as you listen in. No more harsh words are exchanged between the two, and a knock on your door shakes you from your trance. 

“C–Come in.” you say hesitantly, unsure of what the males want from you. 

It’s only Rhysand who pops his head in the room then, giving you a kind smile as he looks over at you. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, to which you nod in reply, “Good. We would like to meet with you in the drawing room whenever you’re ready for the day. Nuala and Cerridwen left some clothes on the dresser for you, there should be any toiletries you may need in the en-suite bathroom as well.”

“T–Thank you, High Lord.” you squeak out, giving him a meek smile. 

“Please, call me Rhysand, or Rhys, okay?” he requests.

“Okay, Rhysand.” you say with a curt nod, though it feels wrong rolling off your tongue. “Thank you.”

He smiles at you again before retreating from the room, leaving you alone to get ready. 

Feyre had sent her handmaidens, Nuala and Cerridwen, up to help you get cleaned up the night before, but knew better than to do so now. You had broken down in tears when the females tried to help you undress, as the horrors of your past flashed through your mind at the feeling of someone else tugging at your clothes to take them off. Though you knew they meant well, you couldn’t help the places where your mind went in that moment. Feyre apologized profusely after, and assured you that you’d be left alone to get ready from now on.

So now, you get ready in solitude, slipping out of the sleep clothes you’d been given the night before. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror after sliding the shirt off your shoulders, the first time you’d truly looked at yourself in years. You were almost unrecognizable compared to the girl you once knew yourself to be, bruises and cuts littering your emaciated frame. It takes all your strength to finally look away, shoving down any emotions that threaten to bubble to the surface as you hastily throw on the black dress and matching shoes you’d been provided. 

As soon as you’re dressed, you exit the bedroom and head down the stairs at the end of the hallway to make your way to the drawing room. It’s almost impossible for you to get lost on the way, as you hear multiple voices carrying through the home as you step down to the first floor. 

You don’t expect to be greeted by seven fae adults and one child seated in the drawing room, all snapping their attention towards you when you walk into the room wordlessly. You recognize almost all of them as members of the High Lord’s Inner Circle, with the exception of the two females who look strikingly similar to the High Lady, since you’d seen them all at events in Hewn City over the years. The child sat in Feyre’s lap, so you assume the child is hers. 

“Y/N.” Feyre calls, smiling softly at you as she pats the seat next to her. ”Please, come join us.”

You’re hesitant to sit at first, but the promise of sitting next to the High Lady, who’s been nothing but kind to you, keeps you from denying the request. All eyes are on you as you finally sit down, perched on the edge of the couch as if you’re ready to run away at any moment, not an ounce of trust in your body as you stare at the fae in front of you. 

Rhysand goes through each person in the room, introducing you to everyone, ending with the male who tortured you in that basement less than 24 hours ago, who you now know is named Azriel. He only stares you down as he’s introduced, shadows swirling around his large wings as he sits perched on the arm of the couch opposite of you. You politely smile at everyone else in the room, but your smile fades as your eyes meet his, hurt replacing the fake-niceness you’d put on for the others. You swear you see a flicker of regret when you look into his hazel eyes, but it’s gone so soon that you’re convinced it wasn’t real.

“Right, now that introductions have been made, it’s time to discuss how our new guest will be fitting into the family.” Rhysand begins, looking your way as your brow furrows.

Truthfully, you’d assumed yourself to be a prisoner in this court despite their fair treatment. You’d assumed they would send you right back to Hewn City after giving you a good meal, that they’d send you right back into the grasp of your step-father, right back into the hell you’d lived before. But, it didn't seem like that anymore.

“Y/N, you will be moving into our other home named the House of Wind, where Cassian, Nesta and Azriel currently reside.” the High Lord explains, you don’t miss the way Azriel’s jaw twitches at the mention of living with you. “Although we are offering you a place in this court if you would like it, we cannot hide your presence from those in Hewn City, including your mother and step-father.” Your breath hitches in your throat at the mention of your family, heart aching as you think about what it would be like when they discover your whereabouts. “I will be informing Keir and your family about your choice to reside here, but I cannot enforce this without reason.”

“W–Without reason?” you ask, brow furrowed as you look up at the male. 

“Although I am their High Lord and will assure that they do not disturb you while you are in my city, I will have to give them a reason to not do so.” he continues with a nod, “I will be explaining to them that you are to be wed, Azriel, and we shall claim that the reason you ended up in this court was because you were pulled here by your mating bond. Though, none of that is true aside from the fact that you two will have to marry in order for this ruse to work.”

Your chest feels like it’s going to give out as Rhys continues to speak, your ears ringing loudly as panic takes over your entire body. You don’t notice the way Azriel watches you closely, the way his shadows flick towards you in order to soothe your panic and calm you without the others noticing.

The male who’d nearly strangled you with shadows and threatened to kill you was to be your husband, your fake mate. You couldn’t believe the situation you were in, it all seemed so surreal. But in all reality, you knew it was the only way to escape the fate awaiting you in Hewn City. You knew it was the only way to escape the constant abuse from your step-father and his friends. 

You don’t know how much time passes before you feel a hand rest atop yours, breaking you from your internal panic. 

Feyre is staring at you when you finally snap back to reality, concern lacing her features.

This is strictly for show, you do not have to do anything with Azriel that you don’t want to. Feyre assures you through your mind, her voice soothing in the sea of screaming in your brain. I promise you that we will keep your safety and comfortability a top priority in this court, you are safe here. 

You smile weakly at her and her mate, nodding slowly as tears shine in your eyes. 

“I will send word that your wedding will be tonight,” Rhys replies, giving you a weak smile in return, “but that it is a private ceremony. Only we will be present, since the two of you just need to exchange rings, so no need to worry about any of them intruding.” 

You blink back tears as you nod once more, the whole room silent as they watch you closely. 

You look over to Azriel then, taking a shaky breath as you try to collect yourself. The second your eyes lock with his, he looks away and stands from the arm of the couch, storming out of the room quickly. Another round of hot tears flow down your cheeks then, not caring that these fae you’ve just met are seeing you sob, not caring what they think about you in the moment.

The only thing you care about is that you’re to be wed to a male who couldn’t care less if you lived or died. 

Something twinges in your gut as you think about the hatred in Azriel’s gaze, heart aching as you worry yourself with the internal conflict of your new husband loathing you. You’re not sure why the hatred has you so up in arms, he’s only meant to be your husband for show, it shouldn’t matter, but you can’t escape the thought of how you thought marriage was supposed to be something special.

Before you can continue down your spiral of emotions, you shove your feelings aside and sit up straight, ready for your next instructions, because who were you to question your High Lord’s logic, right?

taglist (add yourself here): @acourtofbatboydreams @mich0731 @famouslywaiting @teenagellamaangel @alliex-o @dreamloud4610 @angelbunny222 @bookishbishhh @fanficscuziranout @buckingforbuckybarnes @thefandomplace @feyretopia @mad-hatters-lover @kissesfromnovali @mulledwinetea

[gazasparkle]

Good morning my friends who always support Gaza 🔆🫶

I miss you all and may God always protect you and your families from all evil 🙏

Today the weather is beautiful and the sun is shining 🫂, so my child Tim and I decided to go for a small walk near our house.

But every time I go out with my child and see the extent of the destruction, I feel a pang in my heart 😞💔, because my beautiful Gaza has changed and I no longer recognize its beautiful streets that provide comfort and safety as before.

My five-year-old son Tim, as he looks at all the ugliness and rubble, keeps asking me, "Mama, why doesn't a big bird come and carry us and take us far away so we can live like before? I'll bring my toys Mickey and Superman and fly in the sky 😔

He falls silent and repeats his question, "Mama, when will the war end?" Well, we'll go to heaven like my friend Omar

Omar is Tim's close friend. Every day they used to play together in front of the house, but he was martyred by shrapnel while playing in front of his house after we got used to the sound of his jokes, laughter and activity. Now he's not here and Tim always asks about him. Because of his insistence, I told him that he too, Tim, went to heaven 🙂‍↕️💔, like your grandfather, grandmother and uncle, they are all in heaven now.

It's true that it's a small outing, but our life and our story are big 🙏🫂

This is part of our daily life with our children who ask many questions and the answers are beyond their mental capacity to comprehend what It happens over the course of a year and three months because we are in a war.

Your prayers and your support for me, Tim, my family, my husband, my mother, my father, and my brothers, always stay safe 🙏🫂

Every time I get help from you I tell Tim about it, the only thing that keeps me close to the safety of my child and my family is your donation and sharing our story with all your friends 🙏🫂

Don't abandon our family with all my love 💔

@gaza-evacuation-funds @nabulsi @northgazaupdates2

@oorevicejda@yellowwperil@sandersgrey @ofide @rukafais

@officialpenisenvy @theonpilled @fleurrice@tetrafelino@think-queer

@timothylawrence@roakkaliha @lostacelonnie@huzni @laurajameskinney

@gambOfficial @vincentspork@teabisexual@officialscud @evilponds

@dinodamage @yurischolar @lune-tic @lipid @newporters

@witticismz @dovv@capricornpropaganda @charlott2n @determinate-negation

@parsleyrosemarybotch @tadpoledyke@userpeggycarter @thedigitalbard@melon-colli

@demilypyro@lesbocrocker@kahin@chososhairbuns

@zamanassad @wayneradiotv @jihaad @evillesbianvillain

@stuckinapril @goldenspirits @scarletlich @rongzhi @marxistcomedy @el-shab-hussein@nabulsi@wellwaterhysteria @appsa

[harmonyrae]

Let You Make Me Juno

Synopsis: There’s a song you just can’t get out of your head. You just wanted to dance and sing along every time it came on. Which is exactly what you do and the boys have a very intense reaction to some of the lyrics.

AN: I hadn’t heard Juno by Sabrina Carpenter in its entirety until literally yesterday and I’ve been on a writing kick so… This happened. Smile. ENJOY!

Content Warnings: Heavy on the innuendos, also heavy on the implied activities, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, breeding kink (if you squint), the boys are shook & horny, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3.1k

Whatever report Zayne is working on must be a hefty one, he’s been consistently typing for nearly an hour. You circle behind him and top off his coffee. He doesn’t look up, but hums as you pour - a silent thank you. You head back into the kitchen and continue making breakfast. 

It was rare that Zayne didn’t have to head to work early and the Association had given all Hunters a long weekend to celebrate the previous month. Only two injuries and no major incidents. You had both slept in and you were making pancakes. Usually Zayne would lecture you about “making sure you got protein and complex carbs” to start your day, but you promised to make chocolate chip pancakes and he stopped arguing. His sweet tooth won over in the end. 

You continue mixing the batter, swaying your hips to your playlist. Your “feel good” playlist, it always made you want to dance. You hum along while you wait for the pan to heat up. That’s when you hear the beginning notes of the song you’re obsessed with. 

“Zayne! Can you turn the music up?”

You look over your shoulder to see him nod, never taking his eyes off the screen. The music swells through the bluetooth speakers and you start bouncing in excitement. You immediately start singing along.

Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing Oh yeah, you just get it 

Finally, Zayne peels his eyes away from his report. He didn’t get a chance to write up the surgery debrief after getting home last night. He intended to stay up to finish it, but when he got home you were dressed in the black nightgown that drove him crazy. He spent his night doing something equally as important, but now he was rushing to get it completed. But when you started singing, he immediately took notice.

You usually didn’t sing out loud, preferring to hum along. And the way you bounced back and forth, your hips swaying seductively, was very distracting. You wore your satin sleep shorts and his dress shirt buttoned halfway, just a hint of your delicious cleavage peeking over the collar. Zayne straightens his back and tries to refocus.

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh

He blinks rapidly before taking his glasses off to rub his eyes. He turns to look at you fully. Watching you dance and stir the pancake batter. You turn to look over at him, not expecting to see him looking at you. You see the tips of his ears have turned red and you giggle, continuing your dance while maintaining eye contact with him. 

You make me wanna make you fall in love Oh, late at night, I'm thinkin' 'bout you, ah, ah-ah Wanna try on my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Zayne’s eyes widen and you can’t help but let out a loud laugh. The blush spread across his cheeks and down his neck. You set down the bowl and approach him, singing and dancing along the way. 

I know you want my touch for life If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno

He finally stands, placing his hands on your hips. He doesn’t stop you from dancing, just holds you and feels you sway. You spot a smile creeping onto his face. You reach up and hold onto his shoulders. He leans down and starts placing open mouth kisses to the exposed skin of your chest. You close your eyes and feel his warm breath on your ear as he whispers.

“Isn’t ‘Juno’ that movie we watched a few weeks ago?”

You hum in agreement and Zayne doesn’t hesitate to pick you up, moving your legs to wrap around him. He squeezes your ass before he trails a hand under the back of your shirt. You shiver at his touch and cling to him. He turns and walks into the kitchen to turn off the stove.

“Don’t you want pancakes?”

Zayne smiles and his eyes sparkle with something you rarely see when you’re with him. 

“Oh, I’m still having cake for breakfast.”

How did you get roped into this? Tara is so damn persuasive. Or maybe you’ve had a few too many drinks? The little umbrellas make them seem so harmless though…

Xavier had tried to intercept and make sure you didn’t feel forced. But after Tara whispered what song she had picked for karaoke you were completely on board. Plus, you didn’t wear your favorite dress and heels for nothing. 

The fitted baby blue dress hugged your curves, but the tiered ruffles on the skirt made you feel like a ballerina when you twirled. The square neckline flattering your defined collarbone, while hiding a hickey on your shoulder. You tapped your sparkly heels along with your favorite song. Tara and you harmonized seamlessly.

Let you lock me down tonight One of me is cute, but two, though? Give it to me, baby You make me wanna make you fall in love

Xavier had been checked out for most of the night, he was just happy to spend time with you. And the other hunters he worked with - since this was a Hunter’s Appreciation party. But getting to watch you dress up and hold you close while dancing in the dimly lit club, yeah, that made the socializing worth it. 

His brain had finally registered the lyrics and he almost choked on his drink. He coughed quietly and looked up at you. Your cheeks flushed from the alcohol, your tits bouncing while you dance with Tara. He tries to keep his eyes locked on yours, but his eyes can’t help but wander. Two? Imagining a miniature version of you made Xavier’s heart pound against his ribcage.

I showed my friends, then we high-fived  Sorry if you feel objectified 

Xavier’s eyes widened and he nearly dropped his drink. He sets it down on the bar with a shaky hand. He tilts his head at you, as if asking what exactly did you show. He shook his head, surely not. It was just a song. But then again, you could “show” and he knew that. 

Xavier never asked you to send him nudes, but you were so easily turned on by him you spent weeks trying to figure out a way to level the playing field. Sure enough, sending him a picture from the shower did the trick. Of course, he matched your energy and offered to send his own. Which you didn’t reject. He definitely didn’t hold back after that. You’d send pictures and videos back and forth regularly. You could absolutely show Tara and you had zero doubts she would, indeed, high-five you.

Can't help myself, hormones are high Give me more than just some butterflies

You surprised yourself with how well you hit each note, your confidence growing. Your slightly hooded eyes stay locked on Xavier the whole song. You could feel the tension in the room grow. The hunger in Xavier’s eyes was evident. You watched as he slowly made his way to the side of the stage where you eventually climbed down.

Jeremiah was standing next to him, his cheeks flushed. Tara begged Xavier to invite him and after the performance - both you and Xavier finally figured out why. She launched herself into his arms, giggling. His whispered praises were almost lost in the club's noise. Xavier grabbed your waist and pulled you to him immediately. He leaned over to Jeremiah and whispered something before pulling you towards the exit. 

“Xavier! What about –”

“They’ll get a cab, we’re leaving.”

His tone was firm and his expression calm. You were almost concerned he was angry with you. Once outside, you expected to stop at the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab, but Xavier took a sharp turn, heading into an alley behind the club.

“What are we –”

You couldn’t even finish speaking before Xavier’s lips captured yours. His hand reaches down to pull up your dress, his fingers swiftly pulling your panties aside to press against your clit. He presses you against the wall and his kiss turns frantic. You barely have a moment to moan, you breathe heavily, your hands wrapping around him and taking fistfuls of his sweater. 

Right as your legs start to shake, he pulls back and presses his forehead against yours.

“I need to get you home for this conversation.”

You scrunch your nose and look at him, confused. He nips at your bottom lip pulling another breathy moan from you.

“You are definitely cute, but two? That’d be exquisite.”

“No no no, higher!”

You pointed at the couch, urging Rafayel to get in the right spot to start recording. He huffed and crossed his arms.

“What about my artistic vision? Just because it’s a TikTok doesn’t mean it should look like shit. Let me work my magic!”

You put your hands on your hips and let him adjust the brightness of the overhead lights and try out different angles. You smile, knowing exactly what you’re up to. He’ll feel silly in about 15 minutes. 

You run a hand over your shorts and matching cropped hoodie, smoothing out the wrinkles from practicing. The pink color almost matches the blush on your cheeks - which was not just from practicing. You might be a bit nervous. 

You tighten your ponytail and press your lips, nibbling the corner of your mouth as you tap your foot impatiently. Rafayel finally looks up at you and rolls his eyes. 

“Sorry cutie, I know your best angles and it’ll be worth the wait.” 

He finally climbs up on the couch and looks at you through your phone. His brows knit together. He’s just now realizing you were right about where he needed to stand. You giggle while he puffs out a breath, his dusty purple fringe fluttering upwards. 

“Okay, are you ready?”

You nod enthusiastically before hopping over to your starting spot. 

“So you know what to do, right?”

“Why are you asking me that? Of course I know! I’m not a boomer.” 

You roll your eyes and grab your hairbrush, the best option you had for a makeshift microphone. You could have asked Rafayel to get you a real one but you didn’t want to ask him to put too much effort into this little video. A video you didn’t really plan on posting. 

Rafayel holds up three fingers and counts down before pointing at you. You smile and sway your hips, lip syncing to your latest obsession.

You make me wanna make you fall in love Oh, late at night, I'm thinkin' 'bout you, ah, ah-ah Wanna try out some freaky positions?

You swiftly lie down on your stomach and bend your knees, pulling your ankles up as close to your head as possible. You reach back and lock your fingers behind your ankles. You look at the camera and smile with a flush.

Have you ever tried this one?

Rafayel almost drops your phone. He ends the recording and stares at you. His ears turned bright red and his eyes darken, turning an even deeper shade of purple. 

“I didn’t realize you were doing this trend…”

You roll over and cross your legs in front of you, resting your hands on your knees. You raise a brow and glare at him. 

“How many videos of this trend have you watched, Rafayel?”

His eyes widen and he coughs, straightening his back before hopping off the couch in one swift motion. He crosses his arms and looks down at you, his mouth settled into that adorably irritating pout. 

“I just know of the trend, not -- I don’t watch them like –”

You interrupt him, your voice a tad more raspy than you intended.

“Do you think the position isn’t worth it?”

The blush travels across his cheeks and he twists his nose, trying his best to look upset.

“That’s not what I said.” 

“Cause I have a few I could try. You know… for the video.”

Rafayel’s eyes narrow and his eyes drop to your exposed midriff and bare legs. He clears his throat and drops his hands to his hips before turning to walk away. You exhale sharply - he’s being dense. Time to be more direct. 

“Like this one?”

He turns his head and watches you shift to face him. You lie back and kick your legs up. Your shoulders remain planted on the floor while your midsection is straight up, your hands planted on your back, your elbows braced against the floor to hold you up. Your legs tip over and your toes touch the floor. You keep your legs straight and spread them as wide as you are comfortable. Your shorts sink into your ass, the curve and shape now on full display. 

You hear a sharp intake of breath and a shuffling of feet. You try to lower to the ground once more, but feel his hands on the backs of your thighs. When you look up you see Rafayel lean over to look down at you.

“Did you really do this trend for the trend, or did you have other intentions?”

You smile up at him, your smug expression clear as day. He runs his hands over your ass and places his hands at either side of your nearly exposed pussy. You gasp quietly. 

“Yeah, you’re not uploading that video, but we are definitely trying these positions.”

He runs his thumbs across your center. You know he can feel how wet you are, doing those positions in front of him - positions you’ve desperately wanted to try with him - really got you going. He grinds against you, his cock digging into your ass, pulling a moan from you.

“Right fucking now.”

You didn’t even hear the front door to your apartment open, your music was turned up way too loud. And you were enjoying the mini concert you were putting on in the bathroom. 

You held the curling iron loosely and rocked your hips side to side. You could never stop yourself from dancing and singing along to this song. You were so excited when Tara told you she got tickets for Sabrina’s concert next month. You were listening to all of her albums on repeat to prepare. 

But tonight, you were going out with Sylus for a very special occasion - your one year anniversary. Well, it’s been over a year since you met him, but you both agreed not to celebrate when you actually met because it wasn’t exactly the best memory. 

Sylus gave you his black card to get pampered all day while he worked and you made the most of it. Getting your nails done, a facial, shopping and basically a full body wax. You spent extra time on your makeup since you had a few new products to try out. Your new red lipstick compliments your skin tone perfectly, its staying power would be tested later. 

The dress you picked was relatively simple, but god, did you feel sexy. The black bodice was fitted, hitting mid-thigh. The chest was very structured and pushed your girls up, giving the illusion of more cleavage than you actually had. Your favorite part though, were the sleeves. Black lace from shoulder to fingertip, the bell sleeves almost completely covering your hands. You paired the dress with new red pumps, which were still in the box on your bed.

Your hair was actually curling nicely and wasn’t falling flat immediately, so you felt on top of the world. You danced and sang at the top of your lungs. 

You had no idea, Sylus had already let himself into your apartment. A bouquet of red roses in his hand and a mechanical crow with glowing yellow eyes sitting on his shoulder. Sylus couldn’t wait to introduce you to Lilith. He had built her himself specifically for you. He knew it would only mean you’d send her to spy on him like he had Mephisto spy on you, but he could tell how much you started to love seeing his little metal companion. 

He heard the music immediately when he walked in. He closed the door quietly and dropped his suit jacket on the arm of the couch. He pointed to his jacket and Lilith flew over, settling on the fabric. He put the flowers on the coffee table and silently made his way to the door of your bathroom. A smile breaking out across his face as he realized you were singing. 

Adore me, hold me, and explore me Mark your territory Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one

His heart skipped a beat. Not only was your voice hypnotizing, but the lyrics… He had heard this song before, but couldn’t remember where. Probably on one of your drives with him, he tended to give you control of the music while he drove. It meant you were more likely to sing. He leaned against the doorframe just out of view. He could see you in the mirror, swaying your hips while you wrapped a strand of hair around the curling iron.

Adore me, hold me, and explore me I'm so fuckin' horny Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one

And that’s when Sylus’s willpower broke. He pushed the bathroom door open, still leaning against the door frame. He racked his eyes down your body, taking in your new dress.

“Sylus! Oh my god, you fucking scared me! When did you get here?”

Sylus lifted his gaze to meet yours. He smirked before reaching up to grab the door frame above him. He looked so much taller like this, staring at you with those eyes. 

“I was just enjoying the show, kitten.”

You put down the curling iron and turned it off. You fluffed your hair, letting the curls fall into loose waves. You tried not to stare at Sylus in the mirror. The top buttons of his shirt were undone and you could see his chest rising and falling faster and faster.

“I like the song. I am curious though… When you sing along, do you think of anyone?”

Your cheeks flush and you stare at him. You bite your lip as you smile. He lets go of the doorframe and pushes off to walk towards you. His hands wrap around your waist and he pulls you close. Your back flush against his chest, you could feel his erection press against your ass. 

“You know the answer to that question, Sy…” 

He smiled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“Well, I’d say I’ve completed adoring and holding you, that just leaves exploring.”

“Sylus! We –”

He spins you around and grabs your waist. He leans down to kiss your neck, before dipping down to bite at the fullness of your chest. You arch your back and let your head fall back as you groan. Your hands reach out to hold onto his waist, while his wrap around to grab your ass.

“But you’re so fuckin' horny, sweetie. And I live to serve my one and only.”

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22

[d-z20]

Yield and Obey (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: You decide to act out by not listening to Agatha in front of the coven and when you don't take the opportunity to correct yourself, she has to punish you

- OR -

You get spanked for your brattiness and then fucked (and bred) into submission

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, Top Agatha, bratty reader, Dom/Sub dynamics, spanking, breeding, magic g!p, degradation, tiniest amount of praise, possessive Agatha, she kind of just uses reader for her own pleasure at the end

Words: 3.2k

A/N: I've realised that I mostly imagine Agatha being taller than reader (even though Kathryn is only 5'5) like I refuse to believe that THE Agatha Harkness isn't tall👀👀

AO3 | Masterlist

The room buzzes with the quiet hum of activity, the coven murmuring over spell books, tendrils of magic curling in the air. It’s a chaotic yet strangely comforting scene—home to the powerful and the power-hungry alike. You lean against the edge of a wooden table near the fireplace, where Jen meticulously stirs a glowing potion. Alice sits cross-legged nearby, her hands weaving through glittering threads of enchantment. Even Rio has made an appearance, lounging in a corner and casting sharp, knowing glances at anyone who dares disrupt the tenuous harmony.

But despite the coven’s dynamic energy, your attention is fixated entirely elsewhere. Specifically, on her.

Agatha Harkness perches in her usual chair, an aura of authority emanating effortlessly from her every gesture. The flickering firelight catches her dark, slightly dishevelled waves, which frame sharp cheekbones and an unsettlingly beautiful smirk that always promises trouble. The soft linen of her blouse clings to her frame, tucked neatly into purple high-waisted slacks that somehow make her appear even taller. She’s a woman you can never quite look away from, her presence magnetic, her power intoxicating.

She’s toying with a strand of her hair now, feigning disinterest in the goings-on around her. But you know her too well to fall for that act. She doesn’t miss a thing. Least of all the way you’re staring.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” she says at last, her gaze cutting to yours like a knife.

Your cheeks burn as the rest of the coven barely spares the two of you a glance. These moments between you and Agatha are commonplace by now, a sort of game only the two of you understand. But even in the relative privacy of the bustling room, her voice carries an edge of authority that twists your stomach into delicious knots.

“Just watching,” you reply, a little too innocently.

Agatha arches a brow, her smirk deepening. “Is that so?”

Her tone sends a shiver down your spine. She knows exactly what you want, and she’s going to make you work for it.

Jen glances up from her potion and mutters something about the moon phases aligning for a powerful incantation. Rio snickers, clearly amused by the tension thickening between you and Agatha. But neither of you pays them any mind.

“Why don’t you help Lilia with the herbs?” Agatha suggests, her tone deceptively sweet.

It’s a command, not a question. Your defiance flares up instantly—your bratty streak refusing to let her have the upper hand so easily.

“Why don’t you do it yourself?” You quip back, folding your arms.

The silence that follows is deafening. Even Rio stops smirking, her sharp eyes darting between you and Agatha. The rest of the coven seems to hold its collective breath, tension hanging in the air like an impending storm.

Agatha rises slowly from her chair, the firelight painting her every movement in shades of gold and shadow. She doesn’t have to say a word—her mere presence is enough to make your pulse quicken.

“Out,” she says, her voice calm but laced with steel.

The coven members exchange looks before scattering like leaves in the wind, muttering excuses as they file out of the room. Rio lingers for a moment longer, her grin returning as she mouths, Good luck, before slipping out the door.

Now it’s just the two of you, the flickering fire casting dancing shadows across the walls. Agatha closes the distance between you with measured steps, her heels clicking softly against the stone floor.

“Do you want to try that again?” She asks, tilting her head as she looms over you.

Your heart pounds as you bite your lip, refusing to back down even as your body betrays you with a telltale shiver of anticipation. “Nah, I’m okay, thank you.”

Her smirk returns, sharper this time. “Oh, darling. You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Before you can respond, she grabs your wrist and pulls you toward her chair. The force of her magic ripples through the room, locking the door with a resounding click. You barely have time to process what’s happening before you find yourself draped over her lap with your bare ass exposed, your breath hitching as her hand settles firmly on your lower back.

“Since you’re so eager to challenge me, I think you deserve a proper lesson,” she purrs, her voice low and dangerous.

Your skin flushes with heat as you wriggle slightly, testing the strength of her grip. Agatha chuckles darkly, her nails grazing the curve of your hip in warning.

“Stay still,” she orders.

You bite back a grin, knowing exactly how much it’ll annoy her if you don’t. “Make me.” 

It’s childish and probably the most cliche bratty thing you could say, but that’s exactly why you said it: you know it’ll just frustrate Agatha even more.

The first sharp slap lands before you can brace yourself, the sting radiating through your body and drawing a gasp from your lips. She doesn’t hold back (she never does) and that’s precisely why you crave this.

“Oh, you’re going to regret that attitude,” she murmurs, her tone dripping with amusement.

But you don’t regret it, not one bit. You squirm under her hand, revelling in the sensation, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that only she can deliver. Each strike sends a jolt of electricity through you, your defiance slowly melting into submission as she works her magic—both literally and figuratively.

“You enjoy this far too much,” she says, her voice softening as she leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Maybe,” you admit breathlessly, your cheek pressed against the fabric of the armchair.

Her hand pauses, resting on the now-sensitive skin of your thigh. She runs her fingers over the faint marks she’s left, her touch surprisingly gentle.

“Good,” she says simply. “Because we’re just getting started.”

The next strike comes harder than the last, making you cry out and instinctively grab at the edge of the chair. Your fingers curl against the fabric as your breathing grows heavier, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Agatha’s hand stays firmly on your back, keeping you pinned in place.

“You’ve got such a smart mouth, don’t you?” She muses. “Let’s see how clever you are now. Count for me.”

Your head swims, the heat from her palm still lingering on your skin. “W-What?”

“Count,” she repeats, her hand hovering over you. “Or we’ll start all over again.”

Her words make your stomach twist with a heady mix of anticipation and dread. You nod quickly, your voice trembling. “O-One.”

The next slap lands sharply, making your body jolt. “Two,” you gasp, your voice hitching with the sting.

Agatha’s smirk widens as she settles into a steady rhythm, each strike drawing a breathy moan or soft cry from your lips. You can feel her leaning in closer, her breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Poor thing,” she coos mockingly. “You’re enjoying this far too much. Listen to yourself, whimpering like a needy little thing.”

“F-Four,” you stammer, unable to suppress the moan that follows.

She chuckles, her hand caressing the tender skin of your thighs before delivering another strike.

“Five.”

By the time you reach ten, your mind is spinning and your body burns with arousal. The friction against her slacks hasn’t gone unnoticed either—not by her, at least. Agatha pauses, her hand sliding down to rest on your thigh, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles that make your breath catch.

“Well, well,” she drawls, her voice dripping with condescension. “Look at the mess you’ve made.”

You freeze, your face heating as you realise what she means. The smooth fabric of her slacks now bears a darker patch, evidence of just how worked up you are. Agatha tilts her head, feigning pity, though the smirk playing on her lips betrays her true feelings.

“Absolutely shameless,” she remarks, her tone a mixture of amusement and disdain. “And here I thought you had some self-control.”

You squirm under her hand, your embarrassment only heightening your arousal. “I—”

“Quiet,” she interrupts, sitting back with a snap of her fingers. “On your feet. Now.”

Her magic compels you to obey, even as your legs tremble slightly. You stand before her, your head lowered as her sharp gaze roams over you. Then, with another snap of her fingers, the world seems to shift.

The cool air against your skin tells you that you’re now completely bare, and your eyes widen as you realise Agatha has shed her own clothing with the same effortless command. She leans back in the chair, her powerful presence now magnified by her lack of restraint.

What catches your attention most, however, is the unmistakable addition of something new. A large, thick length juts proudly from her body, clearly the result of some well-placed magic. Your breath hitches as you stare, your heart pounding in anticipation.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” she teases, standing gracefully and closing the small distance between you. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you?”

Her hand cups your chin, tilting your face up so you meet her piercing gaze. “You wanted to play brat,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “So now you’ll take exactly what I give you.”

You can only nod, your body thrumming with desire. Agatha smirks, her other hand sliding down to grip your waist as she guides you back toward the chair.

“Good girl,” she purrs. “Now let’s see if you can be a little more obedient this time.”

Her lips crash against yours, stealing what little composure you have left. The weight of her body against yours, the heat of her skin, the sheer dominance she exudes—it’s all too much, and yet not nearly enough.

Agatha’s lips leave yours as she pushes you backward, guiding you with an unrelenting grip on your hips until your thighs meet the edge of the chair. Her sharp eyes gleam with amusement, a smirk tugging at her lips as she spins you around effortlessly.

“Bend over,” she orders, her voice low and commanding.

You obey, pressing your chest against the cool wool of the chair’s backrest. The angle leaves you entirely exposed to her; your legs spread just enough to keep you steady. The vulnerability of the position only heightens the intensity of your desire, a soft whimper escaping as you feel her hand glide over the curve of your backside.

Her fingers trail down, teasingly slow, until they slip between your legs. You gasp, your body jolting as her fingers brush against your dripping heat. Agatha chuckles darkly, her fingers exploring lazily, spreading your arousal as if testing just how far gone you already are.

“My, my,” she hums, her tone dripping with mockery. “You’re soaked. No wonder you were squirming all over my lap.”

Her fingers begin to move more deliberately, sliding between your folds, the pads pressing against you just enough to make you ache for more. Each movement sends shivers down your spine, but it isn’t enough to satisfy the throbbing need that’s building within you.

“Such a desperate little thing,” she coos, her other hand gripping your hip to keep you from bucking against her touch. “But look at this.”

She withdraws her hand, and you whimper in protest. Glancing over your shoulder, you see her raise her fingers, glistening with your arousal. “I can’t even get any friction,” she taunts. “You’re so wet, my fingers just slide right off.”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need.

“Please?” She repeats mockingly, her smirk widening. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight.”

You feel her shift behind you, her body pressing closer as her hands grip your hips firmly. The head of her magically conjured length nudges against your entrance, and your breath hitches.

Agatha leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she speaks. “Brace yourself, darling. This won’t be gentle.”

Before you can respond, she pushes forward in one fluid motion, filling you completely. The sudden stretch makes you cry out, your fingers gripping the chair’s backrest as she gives you no time to adjust. Agatha pulls back only to thrust forward again, harder this time, the force of it making the chair creak beneath you.

She sets a brutal pace, her hips snapping against yours with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. Each thrust sends shockwaves through your body, the wet slapping of skin against skin filling the room alongside your moans and gasps.

“Listen to you,” Agatha pants, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Making such filthy sounds. You’d think this was the only thing you’re good for.”

Her grip on your hips tightens, her nails digging into your skin as she loses herself in the rhythm. Every movement is precise and calculated, yet utterly unrestrained in its intensity. Her breathing grows heavier, her usually composed demeanour beginning to crack under the weight of her own pleasure.

The wet, obscene sounds of her thrusts only spur her on, her pace quickening as she drives into you with relentless force. “Such a perfect little plaything,” she growls, her voice low and breathless. “Taking everything I give you so beautifully.”

Your legs tremble beneath you, your body barely able to keep up with her unyielding pace. The pressure building inside you is overwhelming, your moans turning into incoherent cries as you teeter on the edge of release.

The coil in your stomach tightens to an unbearable degree as Agatha’s relentless pace drives you closer and closer to the edge. Each wet, resounding slap of her hips against you fills the room, mixing with the ragged cries spilling from your lips. Her hand comes down on your ass once more—harder this time—and the sharp sting sends you spiralling.

Your body tenses as the pressure inside you snaps, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. A strangled scream tears from your throat, your voice echoing through the room as the force of your orgasm wracks your body. Stars dance in your vision as you convulse beneath her, your walls clenching down on her so tightly that she lets out a guttural groan of her own.

“Oh, that’s it,” Agatha hisses, her voice trembling with pleasure and control. “Such a good little thing, screaming for me like that.”

Your body sags against the chair, your limbs trembling as aftershocks ripple through you. But Agatha isn’t finished. Not by a long shot.

Her hands tighten on your hips, her nails digging into your sensitive skin as she picks up her pace once more. Each thrust is brutal, her hips slamming into yours with a force that sends shockwaves through your overstimulated body.

“You’re not done yet,” she growls, her voice low and breathless. “I’m not done.”

Her movements grow desperate, the sound of her cock driving into your slick heat punctuated by wet, obscene slaps. You whimper beneath her, your body shaking as she uses you with abandon, chasing her own release.

“You’d take anything I gave you, wouldn’t you? You’d let me fill you up—over and over again—until my cum drips out of you,” she sneers, her voice tinged with dark amusement.

Her words send another jolt of heat through you, your body responding despite the overwhelming sensations. Agatha notices, of course, her sharp laugh ringing out as she drives herself even deeper.

“You like the idea, don’t you?” She taunts, her breath hot against your ear as she leans over you. “Being bred by me. Being so full that you can’t think of anything else.”

“Yes,” you whimper, your voice breaking as you push back against her, desperate to give her whatever she wants. “Please, Agatha—please!”

Her growl is low and feral, her control slipping as her thrusts grow erratic. She is lost in the overwhelming heat of you, her movements fuelled by pure instinct and desire.

“I’ll fill you up,” she promises, her voice rough with lust. “I’ll fill you so full, you’ll feel me for days. You’ll look at yourself and know who you belong to.”

Her hips slam into you, her pace brutal and unforgiving as she chases her release. The wet, obscene slapping of skin against skin fills the room, the sound mixing with her ragged breaths and low, desperate groans.

“You’re mine,” she growls, her voice trembling as she grips your hips tighter. “Mine to use. Mine to breed. Mine.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, the weight of her possessiveness igniting something deep within you. You cry out, your body trembling as her thrusts grow even harder, each one driving her deeper inside you.

With one final, brutal thrust, Agatha stills, her body shuddering as she finds her release. Her low, guttural moan fills the room as she spills herself inside you, the heat of her release flooding your core.

For a moment, the room is silent, save for the sound of your ragged breaths. Agatha stays pressed against you, her hands trailing over your sweat-slicked skin as she catches her breath. Then, slowly, she leans down, her lips brushing against your ear.

“Perfect,” she whispers, her voice soft but full of dark satisfaction. “Absolutely perfect.”

She lingers a moment longer, her hands gripping your hips tightly as if anchoring herself to reality. Slowly, with deliberate care, she begins to pull out. A shudder courses through your body as she withdraws, the lack of her cock leaving you feeling achingly empty. She stands upright, holding you firmly in place as she gazes down at the mess she’s made.

“Look at that,” she purrs, her voice full of dark satisfaction as she watches her cum drip out of you, trailing down your thighs in thick, sticky streams. “What a sight. You really are a perfect little toy, aren’t you?”

Her fingers trail along the curve of your back before she raises her hand one last time. The sharp crack of her palm against your sore, sensitive flesh makes you yelp, though the sound quickly dissolves into a whimper of pleasure.

Agatha chuckles darkly, her palm soothing over the reddened skin for a moment before she steps back. With a snap of her fingers, your clothes are back on, though the sensation of her still lingers—thick and undeniable. Your thighs clench involuntarily, the sticky mess now trapped inside your underwear, a constant reminder of what has just transpired.

Agatha, now back in her usual poised form, adjusts her blouse with a casual flick of her hand. “You really should listen to instructions the first time, darling,” she says with a sly smirk, her voice laced with teasing admonishment. She leans in close, her breath warm against your cheek. “Now, keep it all inside. If you manage that, maybe you’ll get rewarded later.”

She knows it’s an impossible ask, and your cheeks burn as her words sink in, your body still trembling from the lingering aftermath of her touch. Agatha straightens, her sharp gaze flicking over you one last time before she turns toward the door.

“Come along, pet,” she commands, her tone firm as she casts a glance over her shoulder. “The others are waiting. We wouldn’t want to keep them, now would we?”

You swallow hard, your legs shaky as you push yourself upright, the heat between your thighs a constant, maddening reminder of her dominance.

As you follow Agatha out of the room, the teasing sway of her hips draws your eyes, and you know you’re in for a long evening.

-----

Her shirt and purple pants combo is so fucking good, especially when her hair is down. The scene where she's sat round camp and starts rolling up her sleeve is probably one of my favourite scenes like ughhhhhhhh so hot.

-----

Taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @lostbutlovely33

(let me know if you want to be added)

[ennabear]

hehehe haiii twin 🤭🤭 making my yappery reblog comeback with this blurb because it’s so adorable and i’ve read it a million times already… also i’m not really sure if any of this will be legible because i’m half asleep with a migraine so… BUT I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THIS AND I LOVE ELLIEBEAR HEHEHEHE

your relationship with her was still very new, full of shy glances, giggles, and tingles when your fingers grazed - both of you wanted to be perfect for the other. to not rush. but to say you didn't long to be kissed was a lie.

omg i’m gonna cry this is so cute… shy loser ellie I NEED YOUUUUUU 😭 the way i long to be kissed by her is crazy how did you know… sighhh you write her so beautifully it’s like she’s real and in my phone 😞😞😞

you stared at those pouty rosebud lips of hers, and dreamed about how they'd feel on yours. you counted her freckles and fantasized about ghosting your lips over each and every one of them, igniting her cheeks in a blush; a hue so deep it makes them vanish. luckily for you, the perfect moment was fast approaching.

stop this rn… bae… i’m sobbing… those freckles… the way i would kiss the shit out of her is crazy I WANNA SMOOCHY SMOOCH HERRRRRRRUGHHH omg i’m gonna throw my phone how are u doing this… literally every way you describe her is so adorable i’m 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 perfect moment fr i need her to be my new years kiss even though it’s january 4th

you two decided to watch the fireworks outside in a clearing, so you could stargaze before and after the main event. it was cold, and you felt her nuzzle closer to you-your heart skipped a beat. you nudged her with your shoulder, "ellie, it's almost time!"

:((((( now i wanna stargaze with her and get all cozy and cuddle with her and look at the sky and be warm and and and and…. give her a kith…

you were met with a dazed murmur, a grumpy sound. you shook the silly girl awake, melting at her adorable expression-sleepy as a nesting owl. she jumped when a sudden firework shot up in the sky, creating a sparkly golden trail. you looked at them too, but you were more focused on the glint in her eyes—a wonder and joy like none other. she turned to you, grinning as wide as ever, but you had other plans.

HEHEHEHE AWWWW her falling asleep is so meeeee i’m bawling i’m screaming i’m crying i’m sobbing 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 twin have i ever told you that you’re the best writer in the world… because you are… the way you describe this whole scene is so perfect i can see it so clearly it’s crazy… how are u doing that… need you to write a book next please and thanks!!!!!

"yay! happy new year! i—" escaped from her paired with a gleeful chuckle, only you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers without a warning, leaving her breathless. she was so soft, velvety lips and the warmth of her unsteady gasps fanning your face.

shortly, she kissed you back lovingly, sweetly, tenderly, as if you were made of precious ceramic, her hand gently cradling yours.

KITH KITH KITH KITH KITH KITH!!!!! i can’t take this anymore ellie come out where are you this isn’t funny bae… its okay i just want a kiss… and to hold your hand… and cuddle… and take a nap… please… dont make me ant on a stick rn… i need to give her a ninions kiss so bad omg it hurts… put my whole tongue in her mouth and blush like 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅 until we’re both yellow… uhhhhh does that mean anything idk

you broke apart to smile at her, canines bared and everything, and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. your heart grew many sizes looking at her like this, you haven't felt such adoration for someone so fast in what feels like forever. your voice was shaky with emotion, nothing but positivity, and you whispered while you rested your forehead against hers, "happy new year, ellie. here's to a good one."

i adore her so much and i adore u twin i’m sobbinggggg I WANT TO KISS HER SO BAD… oh no what’s happening my lips are cold and lonely… if only i had her to keep them warm all year… and then again next year… and the year after… sighhhhh too bad she’s only in my phone… i guess i’ll just have to read through twins whole masterlist to keep myself sane…

i just know new years with ellie would be so damn special. have this i farted out in two seconds...i miss writing so bad.

your relationship with her was still very new, full of shy glances, giggles, and tingles when your fingers grazed—both of you wanted to be perfect for the other. to not rush. but to say you didn't long to be kissed was a lie.

you stared at those pouty rosebud lips of hers, and dreamed about how they'd feel on yours. you counted her freckles and fantasized about ghosting your lips over each and every one of them, igniting her cheeks in a blush; a hue so deep it makes them vanish. luckily for you, the perfect moment was fast approaching.

you two decided to watch the fireworks outside in a clearing, so you could stargaze before and after the main event. it was cold, and you felt her nuzzle closer to you—your heart skipped a beat. you nudged her with your shoulder, "ellie, it's almost time!"

you were met with a dazed murmur, a grumpy sound. you shook the silly girl awake, melting at her adorable expression—sleepy as a nesting owl. she jumped when a sudden firework shot up in the sky, creating a sparkly golden trail. you looked at them too, but you were more focused on the glint in her eyes—a wonder and joy like none other. she turned to you, grinning as wide as ever, but you had other plans.

"yay! happy new year! i—" escaped from her paired with a gleeful chuckle, only you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers without a warning, leaving her breathless. she was so soft, velvety lips and the warmth of her unsteady gasps fanning your face.

shortly, she kissed you back lovingly, sweetly, tenderly, as if you were made of precious ceramic, her hand gently cradling yours.

you broke apart to smile at her, canines bared and everything, and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. your heart grew many sizes looking at her like this, you haven't felt such adoration for someone so fast in what feels like forever. your voice was shaky with emotion, nothing but positivity, and you whispered while you rested your forehead against hers, "happy new year, ellie. here's to a good one."

[777heavengirl]

Bless the Telephone ; ##03

James Potter x f!muggle!reader

word count: 1,858

warnings: technically a kiss that is not... desired or consented to? but its quick

a/n: my exams tmr!! i’m shitting bricks lord- also final chapter of bags tmr as well 🤧

series masterlist

main masterlist

You quietly decided to keep your phone on your night table, the cord was a little over-extended from the opposite wall and you were slightly afraid that if you tripped on it the phone would fall to the floor— but it was easier this way; you decided, when James called the next day.

“Hello?” you groaned into the phone, cutting off the loud ringing as fast as you could

“Were you sleeping?”

“Potter?”

“Who else would be calling your phone?”

“Other people also call me- what time is it?”

“Like eleven thirty, didn’t know you were an early sleeper doll”

“Eleven thirty isn't early idiot-” you groaned as you tried rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Didn’t think I was going to hear from you anymore”

“Why is that? I obviously gotta call my best girl”

“You don’t even know me”

“Yes, I do— why did you think I wouldn’t call though? I told you I wanted to be friends you silly girl”

“You said you wanted to be friends— But you hung up yesterday,” you held the phone to your ear, the side of your face still pressed against your pillow. “Rather suddenly too”

“Ah, I’m sorry- you know I’m a little funky with phones-” You could almost hear the hesitation in his voice

“D’you mean hopeless?”

“Oh hush-”

“I don’t believe you by the way- but I’ll let it slide” You sighed, stretching your body a bit

A beat of silence stilled over the two of you.

“Thanks…” you hummed in response “What are you up to?” James said, a smile evident on his words

“I was sleeping Potter, do you know what that means?”

“I have a clue yeah- why are you sleeping so early though?”

“Eleven thirty at night is not early, but I’m meeting someone for breakfast tomorrow- I wanted to be well rested”

“Ohhh you’re meeting someone, is it a boyfriend?” you rolled your eyes

“I don’t think he’d describe us that way” He really wouldn’t, not even close

“Do you wish he would?” the anxiety at the pit of your stomach quickening your heartbeat. 

“Goodnight James” you mumbled, eyes wide open now, you could feel the blood pumping as you lifted to rest on your elbows. 

He didn’t hesitate, seemingly understanding “Goodnight love” 

You hung up.

- 

You guessed you shouldn’t be surprised. You had sat at the small coffee place for an hour and a half yet— not a trace of him. 

You threaded your arms into your coat, grabbing your purse quickly. You felt as if you were running away from embarrassment itself as you crossed the street hurriedly. You caught the sight of the bright red of a pay phone from the corner of your eye, not far from where you stood.

You felt stupid, you decided, as you pulled out the little phone book that you kept in your bag. You had written James’s number in it that morning, you didn’t know why. Stupid stupid stupid.

You sorted through the contents of your purse looking for change to put into the damn box, marking the number soon after. 

The phone rang. Rang. Rang.

Someone picked up 

“Oi-“ didn’t sound like James

“Is James Potter there?”

“Ohhh is this who I think it is?” the voice snickered

“Who’s this?”

“Sirius- James’s more handsome friend,” Sirius said matter-o-factly, you rolled your eyes

“Is James there? You know what-” You looked around, suddenly too aware that he could be just around the corner. 

You didn’t wanna see him. 

“nevermind- I’ll call back later”

“Hello?” a familiar voice broke through 

“James?” you bit your lip, relief flooding through you. you didn’t know why you felt this way

“Yeah, doll- what’s up? I thought you were supposed to be out with your not boyfriend”

“Yeah… I guess he had better things to do this morning” he made a noise of indignation, you felt so stupid “probably with another not girlfriend if we’re honest”

“oh love I’m sorry-“  

“no no, it’s fine really… I really… need to get it through my skull that he’s not particularly interested… it’s not the first time- sorry I called”

“Why would you be sorry?”

“I just didn’t know what else to do”

“that’s what friends are for you know… and we are”

“Thanks, Potter”

“You really won’t let that go huh”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’ “Sorry Potter” James laughed, his snickers pulled at the corners of your lips

“Are you spending the rest of the day at home then?”

“Probably— but I’ll call you in a bit yeah? I’d rather leave now, I didn’t think it through before I called” You covered your face with your hand as a group of people passed by. “Im still in the middle of the street”

“How are you calling then?” He sounded genuinely confused

“a pay phone?”

“o-oh… right, call me back when you get home then… or I’ll spam call you again”

“alright alright-“ you both laughed, light and airy. breathless “Thank you, James”

You hung up the call, still gripping the handle of the phone with white knuckles as you exhaled. 

You needed to get out of there.

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears as you ran down to the tube’s station, you could feel the adrenaline of excitement in your veins as you passed the various stops towards your flat.

“Hey,” You said, catching your breath as you entered, your roommate mumbled a vague hello from her desk as she hunched over her architecture assignment. 

“By the way the phone’s been ringing off it’s bloody base for a while now- I dont know what sort of call center you got going on in there,” she said, looking up from her sketchbook. 

You laughed as you took your coat and scarf off.

The phone rang again

“I’m serious if you’re running some sort of telephone scam I want a cut-”

“I’ll let you know if it pans out” you said with a laugh, crossing the distance between the door and your room. You closed the door quickly behind you, launching yourself to grab the phone

“I thought I was going to call you Potter, my roommate thinks I’m running a telephone scam”

“Who’s Potter?” He said. It wasn’t James, obviously, his voice starkly different. A spark missing in it. 

“Oh-”

“You sound like you were expecting someone else?” 

“N-no it's no one- why are you calling?”

“Why aren’t you here? I just got here” he said, almost in indignation. you glanced at the clock

“It’s been two bloody hours, I went home—” 

“Oh-”

“Yeah… oh”

“I’m sorry sweets, I had things to take care of… I’m sure you can understand that come on”

“And you just thought I’d wait?”

“I thought maybe you’d cut me some slack- you should come… I don’t know maybe I misread you”

You swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know… I just got back”

“How about I go over there then hm” he just wants to get in my pants… you could practically hear your own thoughts… your ears rang

“My roommate’s home-”

“And?” 

You sighed, you felt so stupid.  

“Come on- I'm sure she won’t mind”

“I can ask her…”

“Wicked, I’m on my way yeah?” He hung up before you could refute.

You groaned into your hands, you didn’t know what you wanted anymore. You wondered if you ever did.

You didn’t think you wanted him anymore… you thought of James briefly.

You popped your head out your door

“Would you mind it if someone came over…”

“As long as it’s not that poor excuse of a man then sure I don’t mind-” She said looking over her shoulder casually. “It’s the rat, isn't it? god you never learn”

“He stood me up today Char- I don't know what to do anymore…” you screamed into your hand, you tried swallowing the knot in your throat “He just called asking where I was- I waited for him for over an hour… he basically invited himself over”

“Is that who’s been blowing up your phone the past week?”

“No… that's…” you looked away, “no one,” you needed to call James back

“Why so cagey” she wiggled her eyebrows, “Is it another suitor? Do I know him? Have you guys gone out yet? Why is he calling you every day?”

“Jesus slow down Charlotte- god…” you sighed, leaning against the door frame “It’s just a friend”

She narrowed her eyes, staring at your face

“Good god- you like this friend”

“Charlotte no! I just met him,”

“And?”

“We haven’t even met… properly” 

“But you’ve spent hours on the phone the past couple of days it's him right? you’re paying the difference in the phone bill by the way” she said, you rolled your eyes with a nod

“Maybe- but it doesn’t mean anything okay? It can’t, we are just… becoming friends”

As Charlotte smirked, ready to tease you further there was a knock at the door— she groaned

“I can’t believe you’re letting that disgusting pile of shit in here- Again”

You agreed with her. You did. You couldn’t believe the situation, not how you bent over so easily nor his audacity. You didn’t say anything, you couldn't bear to meet her eyes as you went to answer with a huff.

“Hey, sweets-” You barely opened the door before he pushed his way through. “Ah- Lottie how are you?”

“Detrimental now that you’re here, how about you go terrorize some bar instead of terrorizing my home and my roommate hm?” She bit

He just smirked

“We both know you’re the only one day drinking here- besides I don't hear y/n complaining.”

You knew Charlotte expected you to refute. You stared out the window, you could feel his hand wrap around yours and your roommate sigh. 

You were slowly dragged to your room.

You could hear the TV turn on soon after your door closed. Charlotte turned the volume up to the max again. But you knew this time, there was no humor behind it.

Joshua was not a peculiar man. He was quite bland, a common brand of man you avoided your whole life, too cocky and full of himself, too sure that you along with everyone else wanted him, too much money and not enough responsibilities. He was despicable for all intents and purposes. Never committed, never made good on his word, and never answered the phone unless it served him. But somehow… you found yourself in his web, like a mouse trapped in a glue trap. 

You thought of James again, briefly, fleeting, as Josh pressed his lips against yours. You wondered if James was waiting for your call if he even cared if you called back… 

The phone rang. Loudly, annoyingly. A saving grace. 

You rushed to answer it, James’s voice coming through the other end

“Did you forget to call back or what?” You sighed in relief, a smile instinctively spreading across your lips. 

“Hey-” you sat on your bed, “something like that…” you turned to Josh, as he stared at you dumbly. This is going to be a while- you mouthed. 

He left with a huff. 

tags ; @ilovejamespottersomuch @ravisinghs-wife @hidontmindtheintrovert @stella-thestars @caspiankingofnarnia @lovelyteenagebeard @starkluvrr @hisparentsgallerryy @leilani13gc @katsusayhi @auroresce @lovemiss-vale @alessiaparigim @unconventional-lawnchair @moonydoodlez @eissaaaa @ailoda

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr