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lilacs-stars · 5 months ago

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burning passion of twilight

this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is ariel's daughter and a mermaid) SUMMARY: as an enemy of the infamous pirate captain starts making advances on you, you are caught between the waves of your lover and the beaming rays of light given to you by another. GENRE: yandere, quite a bit of angst, comforting fluff at the end, a touch of spice CW: a bit of cursing, mentions of violence (sword fight, small injuries, threats), mentions of blood (just a few cuts), lots of hurt moments (from arguing), reader gets harassed, jealousy, possessiveness, suggestive material at the end, also uses of the word 'lover' instead of boyfriend or girlfriend because it fit the setting more WC: 5.5k (did I go overboard? ...maybe)

A/N: me? obsessed with this man? yes, yes I am. the things I felt when writing this...ahhh we love ourselves a jealous man. shoutout to everyone who read and supported part 1, I really didn't think people would actually enjoy reading my writing loll. I know this one is kinda long, so please bear with me. also thanks once again to the anon who requested this, this was a super fun idea to do! all feedback and suggestions are highly appreciated, I'd love to know your thoughts!

“…and then, out of nowhere, BAM! The entire thing explodes!” cries a boy not much older than you, with ginger hair and dressed in a simple green button-up shirt.

Your entire table erupts in laughter, with you sparing a small giggle. It is early morning, and you are sitting with your usual group in the dining hall. You’re only close friends with a few of them, and merely friendly acquaintances with the others. After all, you aren’t really the extroverted, talkative type. Not like the boy retelling the story of how he pranked the headmaster last quarter, somehow with the same enthusiasm as the first ten times he told it.

Peter Pan is one of the members of your large group that you aren’t really close with. Although he is considered to be on the “good” side of the hero-villain spectrum, he sure has his mischievous side.

He is also incredibly extroverted, chatting up anyone he lays his eyes on. Which is why you've always chalked up his attempts to start a conversation with you to his gregarious personality, and nothing more.

Still, you try your best not to get too close to him. Although James has never directly said anything about him to you, you can sense that there’s some…tension between them. Although he tries to act discreet, you’ve still caught on to the way James glowers at Pan whenever you’re with your group—although he doesn’t take much action, as villains and heroes don’t really mix. How he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in tight whenever he catches sight of Pan, and even the few times he’s used his hook to pull you into a kiss right in front of the person who appears to be his enemy. Not to mention how he always happens to find you with some urgent matter or other that desperately needs your attention whenever you and Pan are having—or trying to have—a conversation. Although, now that you think about it, James does do that quite often whenever you speak to any guy besides him.

Pan catches your eye from across the table, and you can tell he’s waiting for some sort of reaction for his latest joke. You give a polite smile, not really knowing what they had been talking about anyways, and turn away to chat with one of your friends. Whatever’s going on between those two, you don’t care, and you sure don’t want to ruffle any feathers.

Your morning class this semester is Potions and Elixirs 101, in which you happen, by some cruel stroke of fate, to be seated next to the one and only Peter Pan. What is especially annoying about this class—or rather, about your table partner—is that you always end up doing most of the work yourself, being the only one out of your duo that actually listens to instructions.

The teacher explains how today, your class will be making Shanty Serum, an anti-seasickness remedy. After he goes over the requirements a dozen times, you finally set off on the mission of brewing the potion, which is always done in a pair with your table mate.

Everything is going fine, of course; you crush the siren teeth into a fine powder, and Pan, following your careful instructions, manages to brew the kraken saliva until it comes to a soft boil. Just as you reach the final steps, you crinkle your nose as a strange smoky odor fills your senses. You look up from your textbook to see your potion, which you worked so hard on, bubbling and overflowing from the cauldron.

“Ah, I’m so sorry professor! I could have sworn I only put in two unicorn hairs!” Pan cries, jumping back to avoid getting purple goo all over himself. You shoot him a glare, and he adds on, “And I’m sorry to you too, Y/N! I really am!”

You sigh and shake your head, flipping through your textbook to find the page where it explains how to counter excess unicorn hair. Through a bit of luck and a decent amount of skill, you manage to save your potion and not get a terrible grade on it, either.

The last few minutes of class, Pan walks up to you. “Look, Y/N, I’m really sorry about earlier. I know you tried really hard to get the potion right, and I just messed it up. God, I’m such a clutz.” He scratches the back of his head as he looks down at his shoes sheepishly. “Hey, but if you’ll let me, I can make it up to you! Say, you got any plans Friday night?”

His eyes light up as he looks at you with a puppy-dog gaze, and your heart melts a little at his attempt for redemption. But then again, you did promise yourself to keep a good distance from him…

“I-I’m, uhm, well, I was planning to study that night,” you say, which isn’t really much of a lie. “I mean, with midterms coming up and whatnot,” you tack on with a bit of an awkward laugh.

“Saturday night?” Pan pushes, eyes still alight with hope.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m, uh, I’m going out with friends that night. But maybe some other time?” you flash him an apologetic smile, guilt gnawing at your insides as a result of pushing him away. Honestly, you don’t know why James has it out for the poor guy. He seems like the friendly sort to you.

You quickly duck away and move to the other side of the classroom, deciding to meet up with some friends to get away from the stifling silence between the two of you. Deep down, you knew you wouldn't be able to resist Pan’s offer if you had stayed behind to see the disappointed, rejected look on his face. Still, you couldn’t help but glance back at his direction, feeling endlessly shameful for your cold actions.

You thought that would be the end of that, but little did you realize, in that moment, how wrong you were.

School finally lets out and the afternoon rolls around again, which means you stand patiently waiting in the courtyard again for James. You pace around the water fountain, fingers lightly tracing along the rim, humming a tune under your breath.

This fountain has always reminded you of the sea, the rolling waves of the ocean, how the cold water brushes against your skin while it hugs you in a tight embrace. Just thinking about swimming makes your legs ache to morph back into a tail and take off into the blue depths. The worst part about going to the Academy, in your opinion, is that it’s so far from any bodies of water that the only times you get to finally enjoy yourself in your mermaid form is when you’re off for the holidays.

Just as you make your way halfway around the fountain, you see something move on the other side of the water out of the corner of your eye. “Y/N?” a voice calls out.

You walk back around the fountain to be met with… “Pan?” you ask, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I saw you come this way after school, and um, I’ve been feeling really bad the whole day for how I screwed up in P&E earlier,” he explains earnestly. “And so, I was thinking, I really want to make sure that I don’t mess up like that again. For both your sake, and my grades’.” He gives a little chuckle at his joke, before straightening his face out again.

“So, uhm, I was wondering, would you be willing to help me out? You don’t have to fully tutor me or anything, but maybe help me study and give me a few tips?”

There it is again. That spark of hope in his eyes. And honestly, how could you turn him down twice? After how sincerely he apologized earlier, and now with how he’s still thinking of you and trying to prevent himself from causing more trouble. You may have your priorities when it comes to relationships, but you still have morals, too. And there is absolutely no way you can reject him again, especially when he’s so desperate to improve.

“Well…yeah, all right. I’ll help you out,” you say, trying to force a smile on your face.

Pan beams, excitement lighting up his features. “Wow, really? Thanks so much, Y/N! You won’t regret it, I swea—”

Pan’s eyes quickly dart to a point above your head, perhaps catching a glimpse of something behind you. Whatever the cause, he stops dead in the middle of his sentence, face dropping. He goes pale for a second, before morphing his features into a hard and cold gaze. Shocked, you turn around to see what could have caused such a sudden change in his demeanor.

And lo and behold, behind you stands a dark, glowering James, still half-concealed by the shadows behind him. He holds Pan’s cold gaze menacingly with a dark, furious, yet somehow misleadingly calm look of his own. Then, with no warning, he stomps towards you, ensnaring your arm within his hook as he drags you away. You barely catch his grumbled “Come on, we’re leaving” as you stumble backwards from his tug, practically running to keep up with his wide strides.

He leads you down a number of empty corridors and doesn’t let you go until you finally reach a deserted staircase. The second he stops hauling you away from the courtyard, you yank your arm back to your side, panting from the difficulty of keeping up with him.

James spins sharply on his heel, angry glare locked with your confused, half-mad, half-hurt gaze.

“Care to tell me what the hell all that was about, love?” he snarls. Darkness swirls around in his vicious eyes, deep and unrelenting like the crashing waves of the ocean, and equally as violent.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” you spit back.

“What the hell does Peter Pan want to do with you?”

“First of all, he’s my partner in Potions,” you reply heatedly, trying your best to hold back the angry tears you can feel already forming in your eyes. “And he was asking if I could help him study. As an apology for messing up earlier today. What’s so wrong with that?”

James laughs darkly, muttering, “Damn it, that bastard,” under his breath. He rocks his head back and forth, pairing it with a wicked, twisted smile that sends cold chills down your spine.

“I don’t understand what’s so wrong with that!” you cry out, feeling hot tears already start to trickle down your face.

“Don’t you see?” spits James, taking a step towards you and waving his hook wildly in some form of gesture. “He’s trying to steal you from me!”

At this, you recoil, blinking slowly. You can feel the emotions simmering in you, deep down. The calm before the storm.

“Steal me? From you? Steal me?” you ask, the emotions and fury building inside you like a rising wave. You take a step back from him, your voice rising.

“Look, Pan and I may not be mates, but I know him well,” James snaps, clearly pissed. “And I can tell you right now that he doesn’t have any good intentions towards you.”

“Steal me? Like I’m some sort of treasure to be claimed? Like I’m an object?” you cry out, exasperated and relentless.

Something flashes across James’s eyes for a split second, some emotion or thought that is rather undecipherable. His features soften slightly, reminiscent of how he was when you sang for him under the moonlight not so long ago. As if his rational mind is finally catching up to his emotional words, his face falls, furrowed brows loosen a bit, and the cold anger in his eyes gives way to a more tender side of him. Maybe if you looked hard enough, you could also see a hint of regret laced in there.

“No, I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he calls out after you. But it’s too late; you’re already running down the empty hall, away from James. Away from all your problems.

You’re half-asleep when you show up to Potions and Elixirs 101 the next morning. After your fight yesterday with James, you simply couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. It’s the first time you two fought like this, and you honestly don’t know what to do or how to feel. Sure, you’re still angry at him for the way he acted, but at the same time, you miss his comforting embrace, his soft laughs, the touch of his skin against yours.

You sit down at your assigned table, trying your best to ignore the ginger next to you. Today, you’re taking notes on a lecture the teacher is giving, so you thankfully won’t have to do much talking to Pan.

You make sure to listen as intently as possible to the professor, wanting to fill your mind with something other than thoughts of your argument earlier. You pay attention to taking notes so closely that you nearly forget all about your problems. That is, until you’re reminded again at the end of class, as you’re putting your things away alongside everyone else.

“Hey, Y/N?” Pan asks from beside you.

“Yeah?” you reply, feigning nonchalance. You make sure to keep your head down as you stuff your notebook into your bag. Oh, please let this be about the homework we were just assigned and nothing else.

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday.”

Well, damn it.

You think about giving a quick response to end the conversation, but in all honesty, you don’t really know if he expects you to accept his apology, or give one of your own. You aren't quite sure who is in the wrong here, but you are sure of one thing: saying the wrong thing will not do you any favors in solving your problems.

“What about yesterday?” You try to keep your tone light, as if it’s all water under the bridge, but you can’t help the apprehensiveness that leaks into your voice.

“Well, I wanted to apologize if I was interrupting something between you two back there,” Pan starts.

You give him a small, apologetic smile, “No, don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting anything,”

“In that case…” Pan runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a quick exhale, before locking eyes with you and asking, “Why are you still with him?”

His blunt question startles you, sending your mind reeling for a response. “I-I don’t know…I just am,” you say, wishing this conversation would be over already. You had never been a big fan of difficult questions that made you doubt everything you knew, or thought you knew, about yourself.

“He treats you terribly. I’ve seen the way he acts. He’s a terrible lover, Y/N.”

You turn to face Pan directly, a defensive glint in your eye at his accusatory tone. “No, he’s not!” You turn away again as you mumble a small, “And he’s not my lover.”

At this, Pan quirks an eyebrow and gives you a look with a very obvious meaning behind it. “Oh please, have you never seen how he is around you? Of course he’s your lover.” Without missing a beat, Pan tacks on, “And a shitty one at that.”

You huff angrily, but you can’t think of anything to shoot back at him besides blatant denials. Pan must have taken this as an offer to continue, because he steps forward and places a gentle hand on your upper arm.

“I’m saying this because I care about you, Y/N. You deserve someone a lot better than the likes of James Hook. Someone who will treat you right, take you out on dates whenever you want, and proudly walk around in public with your hand in theirs. Not someone who only meets up with you after school so nobody sees and acts like you don’t exist half the time.”

Your anger only grows at his words, knowing that his accusations aren’t true and that James does care about you…right? Because underneath the part of you that is always ready to defend James entirely and completely, is a part of you that doubts it, doubts him. It’s always been there, lingering in the back of your mind ever since your unusual relationship started to blossom. And now, with a new layer of hurt and confusion having been peeled back during your fight last night, that part of you wondered, deep down, if Pan was right.

“You need a better lover, Y/N,” Pan continues. “Someone who truly cares about you. Someone…someone like me.”

Your eyes blow wide at his revelation as your mouth parts slightly in shock. You take a step backwards, shrugging off Pan’s hand as you stumble away from him.

“Wait, please, just hear me out,” he pleads. “Just give me one chance. One chance to prove myself to you. You gave Hook a chance when you started trusting him, didn’t you? And he’s a villain. So why can’t you give me a chance? You won’t regret it, I promise.” He moves closer to you and you keep inching away, until your back collides with a wall and you realize that you have nowhere to run.

Pan continues forward, your fear skyrocketing at his increasing proximity. “Please?” he begs. “I could treat you right. So much better than Hook.”

He finally reaches you, standing far closer than you would have normally let him, or anyone else, for that matter, as he cups your cheek with his left hand. Truth be told, it feels nice to sense warm flesh on your skin instead of the cold, harsh metal of James’s hook. But you shake that thought away almost instantly, chastising yourself for, even for a moment, putting Pan above James.

Pan places his free hand on the wall next to your head and leans in even closer. “Please?” he whispers, his warm breath fanning across your cheek.

The feeling of his exhale, paired with his natural scent that you only smell now when he’s this close, takes you back to that day when you first met James. He had leaned in too, whispering in your ear. You had felt his breath on your skin, breathed in his scent.

You feel an odd sense of deja vu, but for some reason, this interaction causes your heart to race out of pure fear, rather than the exhilarating rush you felt when you were with James. The realization causes you to snap out of your trance and go into full-on panic mode. “N-no, I’m sorry, I…”

Pan growls, not backing away. “Come one! How come you gave a villain a chance and you won’t give me one? That’s not fair!”

Your breathing quickens in pace, the panic settling over you and dragging you deep under like a wave at sea. Your palms start sweating profusely, and you can hear your heart racing a thousand miles a minute. You’re pretty sure this is what people mean when they mention one’s fight or flight response.

“No! Just, just leave me alone!” you cry, ducking under his arm and rushing away from him just as the bell rings. You run into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between you and him as possible.

You finally make it to the dining hall, plopping down at a table far away from your usual spot. You don’t care if you have to eat alone; anything to get away from Pan. Your mind is already wandering to thoughts of how to convince your Potions and Elixirs teacher to let you switch seats when you notice a lot of commotion next to the entrance of the dining hall.

People have started crowding around the doors and murmuring to each other. Curious, you get up from your seat, wandering over to see what’s causing the commotion. As you near, you hear distant shouting and the sound of metallic clinking. You move even closer still, and finally catch snippets of people’s conversations.

“...fighting…”

“over…girl…” “Wait, who’s winning?”

“...did you see that?” “Oh my god…he’s gonna kill him!”

You try to stand up straight to get a look at what's causing the commotion, but the large crowd that has amassed blocks everything from view. “What’s going on?” you ask, not really to anyone in particular.

“Didn’t you hear?” a short, round boy, with big glasses to match his wide eyes answers. You recognize him as Smee from some of your classes. “James Hook is fighting a duel against Peter Pan!”

James…fighting…what? You blink in absolute disbelief. There is no way this is happening right now.

You manage to push your way to the front of the crowd, albeit not without many disgruntled mumbles thrown your way, until you get a clear view of the corridor in front of the dining hall.

You stand there, petrified, as you watch. Hell, it is really happening. James and Pan each have their swords unsheathed and are violently swinging them at each other’s heads, parrying the other’s attacks with deafening clashes of steel.

“You bastard!” James yells, taking another swing at Pan.

Pan jumps back, floating a few feet in the air as he does so, with a laugh. “Oh please, all I wanted to do was treat her right. Unlike you.”

James grits his teeth, countering Pan’s blow with one of his own. “You tried to steal my girl!”

Pan rolls his eyes, continuing the back-and-forth between their swords. “Your girl? As she said herself, you’re not even her lover.” James ducks down to avoid Pan’s latest attack. “Ha, how amusing indeed.” A dark glint shines in his eye as he lets out a cold and malicious laugh, before charging forward once again. “Of course I’m her lover, you bilge-sucking scoundrel! She belongs to me!”

Your eyes grow impossibly wider at those words. It shouldn’t come as much of a shock to you as it does; after all, it’s not like you and James haven’t been acting like a couple for the past few months. But still, you had managed to convince yourself that it was nothing serious, since he had never once directly talked about what you were. And hearing him say it out loud…declaring to the whole school that you were his…it made your heart feel unspeakable things.

“Well, you sure as hell don’t act that way,” Pan bites back, nicking James’s cheek. James recoils for a second, raising his hook to his face and wiping at the gash. He looks down at it, and from your front-row seat you can see the blood smeared against the glistening metal.

James looks back up at Pan, raises his cutlass, and resumes the fight with a new vigor. Every hit more violent than the last, every offensive move aiming at a critical point. “I’m gonna kill you!” James yells as he lands a blow on Pan’s right arm.

This gash seems rather deep—far deeper than the one previously inflicted on James—the blood already leaking out and staining Pan’s sleeve. He winces and steps back, but continues the fight.

You stand there, motionless, too afraid to do anything. Maybe a braver person than you would step in, tell them to stop fighting. But your feet remain planted to the floor, your jaw aching from being clenched so hard as you pray for no one to get seriously hurt.

Pan parries one of James’s attacks and does a quick spin, rapidly gaining momentum with his sword as he turns around and aims the blade…

…directly at James’s head.

A small whimper escapes your throat as the roar of metal hitting metal echoes through the hall. You gasp, heart in your hands, as your eyes take a moment to register the scene in front of you.

James has caught Pan’s blade in the curve of his hook, holding it just inches away from his head. Their arms tremble with strain, with Pan trying to break James’s defense and slash through his neck, and James fighting to prevent him from doing so. They lock eyes, an endless, unspoken conversation passing between them in that moment. Pan’s sword inches closer to James’s head, whose back is bent as he struggles to hang on.

With a sudden swoosh, James yanks his hook in a downward motion, spinning Pan’s sword inside of its arch. A terrible screech sounds at the rubbing of metal against metal as the sword gets wriggled free from Pan's grasp. James jerks his hook backwards, and the sword launches out of his opponent's hands.

The entire audience lets out a collective gasp as Pan’s sword lands with a clang! against the rough marble floors, off to the side. Everyone is dead silent, holding their breaths with anticipation of what’s to come.

You watch as the realization of his defeat dawns upon Pan, the fear blossoming in his eyes as James extends his cutlass to Pan’s throat. He presses the sharp tip into his neck, lightly enough not to break skin, but still firmly so no one, not even Pan, doubts his opponent's defeat.

“Apologize,” James demands, voice booming across the corridor, tone rather befitting for the captain of a ship.

“I-I’m sorry!” Pan pleas, just now aware of what a dangerous predicament he had gotten himself into.

“Not to me, you moron. To her.” James jerks his head backwards to where you’re standing, in the front of the audience, eyes blown wide.

Pan turns to face you, eyes locking with yours amidst the crowd. “I’m sorry! Truly, I am! Please, forgive me!” he cries.

James snarls, pulling his sword back, poised to strike a lethal blow. He thrusts his hand forward, straight towards Pan’s chest…

…but doesn’t ever reach it.

Everyone watches, confused—James more so than anyone else—as his hand remains suspended in midair. A soft blue force field shimmers around his arm, just as loud footsteps and an old, yet assertive, voice fills the hall.

“Fighting on school grounds is strictly against school policy, you know.” The headmaster, Merlin, walks in from the opposite side of the hall. His steps echo loudly against the high ceilings, filling the otherwise dead-silent area. “Boys, you come with me. The rest of you, get to your classes.”

The crowd slowly disperses as Merlin whisks James and Pan away. You still stand there, feet glued to the floor, watching their backs until they disappear from sight.

You didn’t see neither James nor Pan in your classes for the rest of the day, and you assumed you wouldn’t be seeing them for a while. The headmaster was generally a kind soul, but he was strict when it came to breaking rules. You didn’t know what punishment he had come up with for them, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Which is why you’re rather surprised when you open your locker at the end of the day to find a note flutter out and land at your feet. Curious, you pick it up and read it. “Meet me at our spot after school. -J.”

A small grin makes its way across your face, although you try your best to help it. You don’t know why, but reading James’s little notes always brings you joy, even if you are in a tight spot with him.

You make your way to the courtyard, where James is waiting for you by the water fountain once again.

“Y/N,” he says, voice back to being gentle and soft. You open your mouth to respond, but he puts his hook against your lips, quieting you. “I need to get this out first before you yell at me.”

“I wanted to see you to apologize for my actions. After hearing what Pan said…” His eyes wander down to the ground as a grimace spreads across his features. “I’ve come to the realization that he’s right, love.”

You raise your eyebrows at his statement, shocked at the confession. Cocking you head to the side, you wait for him to continue.

“I haven’t been treating you the way I should. And that is going to change, starting today. I also have to ask for your forgiveness for my actions earlier…it was wrong for me to get upset at you for speaking to Pan. But seeing you act so kindly to my enemy…it really struck something inside of me.”

“James,” you breathe, lifting his hook up to your cheek and placing your hand on top of it. “It’s fine, I forgive you.”

“Even for dueling Pan?”

You let out a small giggle. “Yes, that too. Although, I must admit, I did find you fighting for me to be kind of attractive.”

“Oh?” James asks with an intrigued smile dancing on his lips. He uses his free hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. “Then I suppose I’ll have to start more fights then.”

You giggle again, happy to finally be in your lover’s arms. Truth be told, you had mentally forgiven him long ago. Ever since the night of your argument, you had just wished it would all end, that you two would go back to the way things were.

“Why...why did you start that fight with Pan?” you ask, the question having been on your mind for a while.

James slowly lets out a breath before responding. “Let’s just say, a little birdie told me of how he harassed you in class earlier today. The thought of him putting his hands on you…making you uncomfortable…it was just unbearable, love. I don't care what it cost me; he had to pay for what he did.”

You process this, giving a small nod. Although you don’t quite agree with his methods, you still find his protectiveness endearing.

“I have something to ask you, as well, darling,” James inquires. You meet his gaze, signaling for him to go on. “Did you really say that I wasn’t your lover?”

“I, well, uh…” your voice trails off. You were hoping that he hadn't quite caught that when Pan said it, but apparently he had. Glancing back up at James’s face, you wish you didn’t see the pain etched into his features, all but hidden by the mask he always puts up.

“Well…” you start. “You never said anything about us officially dating, and I didn’t want to presume…” You look down at your shoes, avoiding his burning stare.

James removes his hook from your cheek and slips it under your chin, gently tilting your head upwards towards him. “And here I thought that it was so obvious, I didn’t even need to mention it to you, my little mermaid.”

You give a small grin, finally at peace within your lover’s arms. “You can never be too sure,” you whisper, leaning in and intertwining your lips with his in a passionate kiss, the intensity building around the two of you.

James takes a few steps backwards as you lean into him, still locked in your embrace, his leg hitting the stone of the water fountain you two love to meet at. He maneuvers his way down and sits on the rim, pulling you on his lap.

You wrap your arms around his torso, straddling his thighs. James puts his good hand on your waist, using his hook to pull you in by the collar of your shirt. You moan softly, the sound melodious as your rampant emotions spark the magical abilities inside you, one hand leaving his back and creeping inside his loose shirt.

You open your mouth as he slips his tongue inside, gently rocking on his legs. A groan escapes his lips as you rub your fingertips along the bare skin of his chest, moving lower to trace his rather well-defined abs. He moves his good hand down to your leg, gripping it tightly as he continues kissing you with a deep fervor. Everywhere he touches, he leaves a trail of fire on your skin. Your body ignites at even the slightest of brushes, a blaze consuming you inside and out.

Which is why when he raises his hook and brushes your cheek with the cold metal, the feeling is all-too welcomed. You nearly melt as your mind completely blanks, your senses overwhelmed. James doesn’t quite understand why his small gesture elicits such a reaction from you—you were now kissing him and moving with much more rigor than before—but he revels in the way you make him feel. You, on the other hand, get lost in the sharp contrast the coolness of his hook provides to your burning cheek, the inferno that swells around you ever-growing as you continue to have a passionate night with your lover.

The moon has its cycles, coming and going. When it disappears at the first rays of dawn, the tides yearn for its alluring and familiar presence yet again. And although it may seem like an eternity away, nightfall always comes, bringing with it the gentle serenity of being with the one you belong with.

You think back to the question you asked yourself not so long ago, If you could go back, would you change what happened, that fateful day you met James? In that moment, you decide, no, you wouldn’t. Because the life you have right now is the only one your heart will ever yearn for.

end x

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478 notes · View notes

viaviavie · 9 days ago

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omg hiii !1!1!1! I saw your work for the first time about Perfect bargaining Jade and it was really silly and funny, the way you wrote it is omg— idk how to explain it but it’s really good !1!1!1

If so, since your requests are open. Can you do silver x reader ?1?1? AHHH— you don’t have do this of course, if so then I’ll really appreciate it…!!

For this one, erm… reader is trying to give hints to Silver who’s completely oblivious to it, and Lilia has to step in and help his oblivious son, maybe includes the animal too bc they love the sleepy knight 🤫🤫

Please also take care of yourself , author! Take as much time as you need :333

ngl, i saw this ask 5 minutes after it was sent and jumped for it— i am clearly in the mood for silver, and book 7 has me whipped so so bad AAAAA thank you for the lovely compliments! i hope i served this one well :)

in which the members of diasomnia bestow blessings upon the prefect who is desperately trying to convey feelings to an oblivious silver. PAIRINGS: silver x reader (ft. supportive diasomnia) WARNINGS: characters are depicted as 18+, suggestive content for the third blessing NOTES: i took a look at sleeping beauty for some inspiration. referencing the three gifts bestowed by the fairy godmothers, i thought it would be funny to cast our diasomnia members as wingmen for silver. i hope it's still just as enjoyable!

What was meant to be Lilia's business, eventually became Sebek's and Malleus's business too when the former beckoned them over to that small couch in the Diasomnia dorm. With your head buried into your hands, you hoped to conceal the light blush on your cheeks as you hoped to recant your most recent concern. Of course Lilia would ask the other two to come over, they were your friends too, after all. Luckily for you, your actual problem was likely asleep somewhere on the campus, far away from where you were now.

Lilia's lips were curled into a bat-like grin as he called your name. "What troubles you, my child?" He asks, as if he had forgotten about what you had told him the first time. Still burying your face in your hands, you resist the urge to whine in embarrassment. Sebek glares at you, arms crossed with such impatience. "Speak up, human! You should be grateful that Master Lilia and the Young Master have taken their time to graciously lend their aid in your concerns."

Snapping from your pitiful state, you bit back at Sebek with a weak glare of your own. "I like Silver, okay!" That definitely shuts the half-fae up when he freezes, taken aback by your sudden declaration. Malleus hums in amusement, smiling at your flustered expression. Lilia could only chuckle as he pats your back, sympathy evident in his smile. "There we go! That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You fall silent for a moment, giving Lilia a deadpanned stare.

"You knew the entire time, didn't you?"

"My child, do tell me who would go out of their way to spend time with Silver even with his sleeping conditions. You've spent almost an entire day with him while he was off in the land of dreams!"

Sebek chokes on air from the side, fingers gripping the edges of the couch to the point his face is beeting red. "You fancy Silver?!" You roll your eyes at his theatrics, drawing your attention to how peaceful Malleus appeared. The Briar Prince nods, his smiling growing with each thought processed through his mind. "I do think they make a very nice match. Wouldn't you say so, Lilia?"

"Indeed! The Prefect has been sweet to Silver, and such is the fruit of those affections." Lilia swooned, far too engrossed in his own joy to notice how you have slumped yourself over the couch. You let out a groan, shaking your head into hands. "I've been at it for weeks now, Lilia. There is never a right time to confess, and I can't even tell if he's interested back!"

A pair of gloved hands envelop yours, and Lilia pulls them down to flash his fangs into a grin. "Fret not, Prefect! There is a way to help Silver find some clarity in the matters of the heart!" He gushed excitedly, and it sends a shiver of concern down your spine. Surely, if Lilia's planning was just as eccentric as his cooking, something was bound to go wrong.

"Have you ever heard of the Great Three Patrons of True Love?" You furrow your brows at Lilia's question, shaking your head. "There's a Great Three Patrons of True Love?" You queried. Lilia throws his head back into laughter. "But of course! We have the Great Seven, but there are other legendary figures renown for blessing the world of romance." He sighs dreamily. Your face only further contorts into confusion, all the more puzzled by Lilia's scheming.

"How exactly are they going to help my feelings get through to Silver?"

"The Great Three Patrons? Not exactly,"

Lilia turns behind him, beckoning a hand in a gesturing motion. "Sebek! Malleus!" He enthused, mischief flashing behind his eyes. You could only gulp as Sebek prostrates himself, followed by Malleus's devilish smile.

"We have a job to do, boys!"

It is dusk when Sebek singlehandedly drags you to the woods behind the campus. You don't even get a response as he marches down the rock path, finally halting once you both stand at the boardwalk that stands before the mouth of a lagoon. "My gift shall be the gift of a romantic boat ride through a quiet stream!" You wince slightly at the volume of his tone, but the fish surrounding the area had seemingly swam away almost immediately at his booming voice.

"Sebek, are you sure this is gonna work?" You whispered, observing as the half-fae puffed up his chest with pride. "Of course! And we don't need to take your voice to make this plan work." You rub the back of your head, wondering where you have seen this scene before. "All you have to do, Prefect, is be yourself and let the ride take its course!" You stare at the boat, seemingly ignorant to the sound of clothes rustling beside you.

"Isn't this just a date?" You question, turning to Sebek for confirmation. Instead, your jaw drops with disbelief at the pile of clothes at your feet. Rather than his school uniform, the half-fae was dressed head-to-toe in scuba diving gear, followed by the wetsuit.

"Just a date? No, it is not just a date, Prefect." Sebek smirks at you, committed to his mission. "This shall be the most romantic venture of the decade!"

At the slight rustling of the grass coming from behind, Sebek immediately readies himself for a quick sprint. "Here he comes, Prefect! I will be lurking in the background for assistance!" Before you could even question the plan, he has scampered into a nearby bush with his clothes in tow. You barely get a moment to recompose yourself when you hear your name from a distance.

Turning around, your eyes land upon Silver who had paused at your side. He glances down at you with a gentle expression. "Prefect, you're here." He rubs the back of his head, tilting himself to the boat sitting in the water. "I was told that you needed to observe the wildlife here for an assignment from Professor Trein."

"I do?" Confusion contorts your expression, and you only grow more confused as you struggle to recall an assignment of sorts. Silver nods. "Yes. Sebek told me that he was supposed to help you across the lagoon, but he is currently occupied by his duties to Malleus." You take a quick look at the rustling bush below, only to give Silver an embarrassed smile. What kind of excuse is this, Sebek!?

"Right! I'm really sorry for dragging you out here. I'm sure you have other things to do." Silver shakes his head, his expression softening at your words. "No, it is my pleasure to accompany you, Prefect. I do like spending time with you." Even for such simple platonic words, your heartbeat quickens and you swallow to yourself with quiet laugher. "Can you row a boat?" You found yourself asking as Silver lowers himself onto the rowboat, reaching out his hand for you to take.

"I've learned how to row a boat while I lived in Briar Valley. Father would sometimes take me fishing as a form of enrichment, he says."

His grip is firm, yet gentle as you take an uncertain step into the wooden contraption. Both of you heave a sigh of relief as you are settled onto your seat, sharing smiles together.

You immediately take notice at the way Silver's muscles flex through his uniform as he took the oars and began pushing. He made it seem so easy, and the fact that he faced you— Shit, he's facing you! Once that realization hits you, your gaze is immediately shifting everywhere but his face. Through your peripherals, however, you swear that he is looking at you.

Your throat is as dry at the mermaid from the tale, and you are rendered speechless. By the time the sun has barely set, Silver hums to catch your attention. "It is a beautiful evening, don't you think so, Prefect?" By the light of the glowing firelies that had come to play, followed by the soft chatter of the freshwater residents in the lagoon, you take the time to marvel at the scenery. Perhaps Sebek's excuse does make sense, considering a lot of wildlife were active at this hour.

You want to say something, but you could only muster a shy nod as you finally brave yourself to look at the student across from you. He catches you into his stare, and now you were merely captive to his gaze. Just as difficult as it was to look at him, it was even harder to look away.

Silver had stopped rowing now, allowing the boat to float along the lagoon. Elbows resting on his knees, he is almost observing you like a specimen while you shift and squirm with that shy expression on your face.

And meanwhile, Sebek is cursing at you as he quietly surfaces from the water to breathe. The Prefect is never going to say a word at this rate! His eyes narrow with determination, his body barely floating among the water plants and the ducks as he takes a deep breath.

"There's your moment, floating in a blue lagoon..."

Both you and Silver pause, sharing the same confused look as the melodic timber bounces across the water. You certainly know what is causing that sound, but judging by the look on Silver's face, he was rather puzzled by its concise melody.

"Do you hear that?"

Before you could reply, a breeze hits your face and causes you to shiver from the cold. Curse your memory, you seemed to have forgotten your jacket at the dorm before Sebek had dragged you out for his escapade. Being the gentleman, Silver notices and he is suddenly alert as he shifts himself to the side. "You're cold, Prefect. Come and sit with me," He calls out gently, holding out his hand for you to take.

A sigh leaves your lips as you smile at him, taking his careful hand as he guided you to the space beside him. You do not miss the way his hand is wrapped against your waist, keeping you balanced and upright. Your eyes widened as he began to shimmy himself out of his jacket, and the protests ready on your lips die quickly as he places the garment over your shoulders. "I do not want you to catch a cold, Prefect."

He is close, and you can feel the warmth of his torso as he shifts closer to you now. You cannot hold back the satisfied sigh that leaves your lips, and you do not notice the way Silver smiles faintly at your peaceful expression.

"Boy, you better do it soon. No time would be better,"

Silver pauses slightly at the voice, but ignores it in favor of your attention. "The stars are bright tonight, Prefect. Would you like to watch them for a short while?" The suggestion takes you by surprise, and you barely catch Silver's face as he leans back, gesturing to a flat surface on the boat. Still, something urges you to lower yourself as he does, resting your head on his muscled forearm.

A surprised gasp leaves your lips as you stare at the sky, and Silver's breath is taken away by your awed expression. There is a certain content in his heart as he watches you stare, and you do not even notice the way he stares back at you.

"... won't say a word until you..."

It takes some time until you look back at Silver, once more held prisoner by his stare. He doesn't even realize that you have caught him staring this time, and continues to memorize your features and your soft smile. He should have questioned your silence a long time ago, but it is out of his mind as you relax onto his arm. Silver shifts closer, searching for something, whether it was warmth, or more of you.

"Come on and kiss the—!"

Alas, the moment is ruined when four teal arms loudly slammed against the boat.

Silver is immediately put on his guard, forcing himself up and gripping the oar as if it were a makeshift blade. His other arm is positioned across your figure, as if protecting you from whatever was in front of the boat. You are equally as startled, and the first sound you make this evening is a squeak. You stare in the darkness, immediately taking notice of two sets of mismatched eyes.

"Loooook, it's Shrimpy and Jellyfish!"

Almost flipping the boat over with his weight, Floyd surfaces from the water and waves at you with a toothy grin. His twin, on the other side, gives a cordial smile. "Jade! Floyd!" You cried out, flustered by their sudden appearance. "What in the world are you both doing here?" You asked in an exasperated tone, your hand clutching onto the other oar tightly.

Your frustration only serves to amuse the more composed twin. "Octanivelle students tend to come here for a swim. Floyd and I were here for a short exercise." The eel hummed, followed by the amused cackles of the other brother. "You should have told us you were both here! Jade and I would have been happy to propel you both to the other side!" The idea is unwelcomed as you and Silver immediately attempt to row the boat away.

"No thank you, we were just—" Your words were immediately cut off by the slightest sound of static coming from afar. All heads turn towards the direction of the noise, and you could only hide your face into your palms.

It is Sebek, dressed in the glory of his wetsuit, pointing his pen at the two eels. "AWAY RAPSCALLIONS!"

The threat is not lost on the two eels. "Ack, it's the Crocodile!" Floyd groans as Jade merely smiles, his attention caught by something else entirely. The twins splash back into the water to seemingly deal with the disturbance, and you could only stare at a confused Silver.

"We should start rowing." You murmur.

"Yes, we should." He replies with understanding.

It does not take long for you to be taken aside by Malleus this time. After that episode at the lagoon, you had heard that Sebek returned to Lilia bawling at his failure to fulfill his mission. He had even apologized to you himself for how poorly that plan went, and had spent the entire day moping over it. Needless to say, the mission to make Silver realize his feelings was a team effort to be shared.

And there you were, dressed in a fencing uniform from head to toe, your face obscured by a fencing mask that obscured your features. Malleus stands before you, arms crossed with a confident smirk on his face. "My gift shall be the gift of a dance. Such love may be realized through a mystery, just as a scullery maid found love at a ball she was never meant to attend."

But this was not a ball, by your understanding. You were heading out to spar with Silver after Lilia had claimed to have found a good partner to practice with. Rather, Silver does not know it would be you that he would be sparring with today.

You sheepishly rub the back of your head, averting your gaze from the fae. "I can duel, but I don't think my skills are enough to impress him." Malleus shakes his head in disagreement, taking upon the blade in your hands onto his own. "I do not think that would be the case, Child of Man. Your skills are adequate and for a time, I shall grant onto you this blessing."

With a swift movement, his arm dances across the blade. You watch in awe as the blade shimmers and glows for a slight moment before fading away. Malleus lets out a noise of satisfaction before returning the rapier to your hand. "This shall give you a bit of a... 'boost', as some people call it." A smile is brought across your lips as you playfully swing the sword at a fake opponent.

"Thank you, Malleus!"

"The blessing shall wear out, just as the maid's magic enchantments have faded away at midnight. Alas, she was still very much able to win over the prince's heart in that tale. I shall not have you wear a glass slipper, but the art of the sword shall suffice." Malleus smiles as your name is called out from afar, signaling your entrance to the courtyard nearby.

"Now, run along, Child of Man. I wish you great luck." You could only send a nod to Malleus followed by a quick thanks as you hurry yourself to the courtyard. Silver and Lilia are already there, and the student merely looks at you with respect.

As you approach, Silver holds out his hand as a greeting. You shake hands, and bow slightly. "Thank you for having me today." You nod in acknowledgement, glancing at Lilia to fill in the words for you. The bat-like fae chuckles, patting Silver's back. "Our fighter here is rather shy. I'm sure that translates to 'I hope we have a good match'!" Lilia snickers before he backs away, leaving you both to take your positions at the center of the courtyard.

You have dueled before, even joined Silver for some sparring lessons in the past. Even Sebek himself has admitted that you did surprisingly well for a human from such a normal background. Malleus had provided you confidence in that moment, and with this enchanted blade, you are certain that you can catch Silver's heart with the blade.

"Begin!"

You play the game as you would, waiting for your opponent to strike. You know Silver very well, especially after observing him for so long. He is not the type to strike first— that would certainly give an opponent the advantage to parry. And so, you do not make a move either, keeping a distance. Silver had to make the first move, and you must parry.

And as predicted, he makes the move with a swift swing of the sword that you block perfectly. However, it is easier to push back now rather than allow his weight to knock you back. The enchantments on the rapier allow you to push back with ease in spite of your physical abilities, forcing Silver to stagger. His eyes are narrowed with precise calculation as he swings again, to which you parry once more before swiping at him.

It is a dangerous dance, indeed. You respond to each swipe of the blade he sends you, dodging and lunging. Had it not been for the enchantment, you are certain that you would have collapsed onto the floor out of exhaustion. Silver is sweating, and it does not take long for him to lose his footing once you sweep you leg at his feet.

He falls, but he drags you down with him when his hand takes your sleeve and tugs you onto the grass. Before you knew it, the blade is out of your hands and you are suddenly trapped by the weight of the silver-haired boy on top of you. Silver straddles your hips, restraining your wrists above your head as you kick and squirm against his hold. Alas, you are weaponless and now, defenseless.

With a groan of defeat, you concede and cease your struggles. Silver pants and hums to himself, pleased with the outcome. He pulls away and returns to his feet, holding out his hand for you to take once more.

"Good work, Prefect."

You gasp out a sigh of relief as you tear away the fencing mask, revealing your face drenched with sweat. "Hey, Silver..." You smile tiredly as you take his welcome hand to pull yourself off the ground. "You played very well today." He acknowledged, lips quirked up slightly into a smile.

You beam at him with delight. "Thank you, Silver! Although, it was really just the rapier. Malleus blessed it early with his magic." You pause in your movements, looking at him with a surprised expression. "How'd you know it was me?" You stammered, and your heart skips another beat as Silver takes your wrist into his hand.

"You maneuver your wrist like this. Your grip tends to be loose, and your footing is always slightly shifted onto the right." You blink to yourself, amazed. You never did think that Silver had observed you enough to a point where he had grown familiar with your movements. Thankfully, you can blame the heat for your reddening cheeks. "Is that so?" You murmur in wonder, and your companion only nods.

Silver faces you, letting go of your wrist as it falls back to your side. He averts his gaze, almost shyly. "Would you like to spar with me again? I wouldn't want to keep you from any other obligations." Your heart melts at how quiet his tone was, as if he were hoping to keep a secret. You are glowing, and he carefully etches your beaming expression into his memory while you nod enthusastically.

"Of course! Let's go grab some water first!"

"I shall accompany you, Prefect."

Meanwhile, Malleus observes from behind a pillar in thought. "I see," He murmurs to himself, a content smile flashing across his features.

"I suppose the Prefect's skills were the glass shoes after all."

It was not an odd occurrence to trail after Silver at the end of the day. The act of walking your friend back to his dorm is unfortunately as platonic as it ever was. You swear it is to make sure he doesn't fall onto the floor if he decides to fall asleep mid-step, but really, you simply enjoy his company, as he does yours. Unfortunately for you, it's grown too difficult to tell whether Silver's feelings towards you are purely platonic or if there was something more than that.

You doubt you will find your answer today as Sebek drags the sleeping beauty to his dorm. You are collapsed onto the couch as you were a week prior when you came to Lilia seeking his guidance. Speak of the devil, the bat-like fae is blinking down at you with an eager grin.

"There is still one more blessing that we have yet to bestow upon you." You hope it is not a magic carpet ride. It would be really bad if Silver fell asleep in the middle of the air, and you are certain that a bat cannot outfly a magic carpet from Scarabia. You were rather unwilling to turn into a frog, and the last thing you wanted to do is be thrown into a war dressed like a soldier to gain Silver's affections. You were desperate, but not that desperate.

"You better have some grand master plan for this, Lilia." You uttered, sitting up from the couch. Lilia chuckles, and the sweet scent of cocoa hits your nose. "Nothing proactive, I assure you!"

That's odd. Delicious and Lilia are two words that one can never use in the same sentence.

Immediately, your face grows pale at the sight of a green mug in Lilia's hands. You immediately back yourself onto the couch, ready to bolt for the door at the slightest hint of food poisoning. "Lilia, what in the world did you put in this mug?" You ask a bit too hastily, and the older man only laughs at your reaction.

"Three tablespoons of Sam's Nocturne Chocolate delight and warm milk, my dear! I would have loved to add in some more ingredients to enhance its taste, but it seems that the dorm's pantry is empty once again."

The world takes a collective sigh of relief, and as do you as you gingerly take the mug into your hands. It is warm to the touch, but far from scalding. Lilia bows slightly, smiling at your relaxed figure. "My gift shall be the gift of the sweetest of dreams. It shall suffice for now."

He stays as he watches you take a hesitant sip, but to his delight, you immediately consume the drink in a few gulps. Returning the mug to his possession, you smile after wiping away at your lips with your sleeve. "Thanks, Lilia." Perhaps this was the right approach, and a good night's sleep could bring you some clarity on how to confess to Silver. Maybe you were just meant to confess to him yourself in the end, rather than wait for him to understand your feelings on his own.

Lilia pats your head with an assuring grin, but oddly enough, there is a hint of mischief behind his eyes that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"Hurry back to your dorm, my dear! You'd best find a bed as it gets dark!"

It isn't ever so often that Silver sees himself in a dream. Most dreams that he slips into often concerned other people. He has seen Ace dream of a tyrannical Riddle chaining said student to his desk to finish his homework. There was an instance where Silver hid with Leona to escape the notorious hunter from Pomefiore. Silver has also spent a handful of dreams watching Jamil make a mockery out of poor Kalim in his power-driven fantasies. Maybe once, he has seen himself in a few dreams concerning his own dorm members, but this was the first time he had ever waltzed into yours.

He had followed your dream-like figure into the heart of the forest, stalking quietly within the shadows. A part of him knew that it was unnecessary to make such an effort to leave your dream undisturbed, considering that most people do not remember those dreams once they wake.

And yet, he cannot help but play the role of the knight tonight. Even when you are only dressed in your sleepwear, the light of the moon slipping through the trees tells of your beauty.

He wonders where you are going, what you sought in these woods. You appear secretive, constantly taking glances back as if you knew you were being followed. Hiding amongst the trees and the foliage, Silver maintains the secret unbeknownst to you. When you finally pause, the moonlight is cast over another figure now and Silver's eyes are wide with shock.

An imitation of him stands before you now, dressed in prince-like regalia. The fake smiles at you who merely croons at the touch of its hand against your cheek. "I'm not supposed to speak to strangers," You breath out and Silver is frozen behind the tree that hides his figure, unable to turn away as the imitation takes your hand, the other around your waist.

"—but we have met before." It murmured, commencing the start of the dance as he hums a tune native to Briar Valley.

Something stirs within Silver's chest as he watches you smile so endearingly at his imitation. If this was your dream, this manifestation of him was certainly your doing. Only then do the events of the recent week crash down on him like Deuce's pots, hammering each implication further down his throat at a time. Even beyond the strange doings of his dormmates, it answers enough of your own behaviors as well.

Had he really been that oblivious to his own heart as well?

And so, when the fake finally releases you into a spin, Silver takes no chances to leave the shadows and replace his fake who continues to hum from afar.

Your eyes were fluttered shut when you feel a set of hands intertwine with your own. A breath brushes against your ear, the faint scent of the briar roses flooding your senses. "Prefect," Your eyes snap awake from alarm, startled by the voice. Someone was still humming, and that prince-like version of Silver barely smiles at you before dissipating into the moonlight.

Still, there are a pair of hands clasping yours. You immediately turn, and your heart stops at the sight of Silver boring his eyes onto yours. "Ah—!" It is instinct to immediately pull away, but he doesn't let you. He holds onto an arm, and leans himself forward towards you with that soft gaze. He is nothing but soft with you, rather than stern and withdrawn as some others would describe him to be.

Silver is smiling at you, almost in an assuring manner. "I'm sorry, Prefect. I didn't mean to startle you." His words are just as honeyed as he was, and it threatens to reel you back into his chest. And you do, lulled in by the pale moonlight that emphasized his auroral gaze. You aren't shy as you were during the day, he notes to himself. There is still some hesitancy in your eyes as you are pressed against his chest, a hand trailing over his chest up to his clavicle.

He returns the gesture as he lowers his head to your ear. "Is it true, Prefect?" Silver murmured, and all it does it send shivers down your spine. "What is?" You seek for more, but he does not give it to you. You liken him to a true knight who had sworn oaths as he acts as your wall, for you to lean onto but to never cave in. You want him to cave, to collapse, to crumble onto you, and he knew it. "That you long for my heart," He breaths out, and you feel a hand snake up your back to play with the ends of your hair.

You peer up at him with glossy eyes, obscured by this dreamy-like haze. "And what if I do?" You whispered, oddly overcome by a sense of bravado. Silver continues to look down at you, allowing his free hand to cup your cheek.

"Then I would be the greatest fool to have never known to reciprocate them sooner." Your breath hitches as Silver stares you down, and you find your own hands gripping the collar of his dress shirt. "Forgive my obliviousness, Prefect. I will do anything to earn your heart properly." A true servant Silver was, even more so to the whims of his own heart.

Certainly, he felt even weaker when you tug him closer to you. "Anything?" In turn, he finds himself restraining his own hand from crashing your lips against his own. It was almost as if all tension that he hadn't noticed before had begun to pound at his brain. Certainly, this had to be vengeance for everything you had to put up with since you fell for him for the first time.

"Show me what you truly feel, Silver."

He wastes no time in pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. It is soft, gentle as he always was with you. With all the benevolence of a prince, Silver does not immediately pull away. With his eyes fluttered shut, he molds himself into your shape with the most careful of presses, taking in your bottom lip between his own.

If he remained there any longer, he is certain to entrap you. Silver knows himself well enough to know that he was far from a prince. He was weak, and knows that you can easily abuse that weaknesses with merely a glance. His silver eyes are trained onto yours, and eventually, remain fixated onto your now rosy lips. How he feels even weaker when your arms wrap his neck, pulling him down towards you again.

It takes a moment for him to realize that perhaps, you most definitely suited Night Raven College for how wicked you could be sometimes.

"Show me again, please."

And how could he ever say no to you?

Silver knows what you are looking for when you are the one to drag him close, to press yourself against him this time as if you were the one making a demonstration. That is not to say he dislikes it, not with the way he hungrily gasps into your mouth without any thought to leave.

"Silver," He whispers your name in return before he manages to find his way back to your lips, lost in the way your hands had entangled themselves into his hair. You tug even harder when he attempted to pull away for air, and he groans. In the short moment his eyes open, he finds himself challenged by the amount of force you are using on him. Finding enjoyment in this struggle of power, he flexes his muscles as he envelops you into his arms, pushing you again and again until he wrestled the control from your hands.

Backed against a tree, Silver continues to steal your breaths as he towers and gently prompts you downwards. He does not even realize that the first few buttons of his dress shirt have already been buttoned, and you had found yourself leeching onto his warmth by snaking your hand across his shoulders. The other is holding his own now, guiding it to your waist and you are on the verge of begging for more and more.

You cannot help but whine when he pulls away, breaking away from your greedy whims to keep him against your lips. The way his leg is wedged in between your own is calculated, and Silver smiles victoriously at your entrapment. Still, he is far from arrogant and he dares to press a sweet kiss against your cheek before he moves towards your ear.

"You know my heart, Prefect." He murmurs, his teeth barely brushing against the shell of your ear. "You know it, once upon a dream."

And it ends with a sharp ray of sunlight filtering in through the window, and the sound of Grim crying for you to awaken from slumber.

Your ears are still glowing red from the faint memory of last night's dream. You cannot exactly recall what brought about that fantasy, let alone how fresh the dream still burns into your mind. It lingers in your mind as you sit in Trein's class. It still lingers as you grovel through Crewel's potion demonstrations, and it definitely hasn't left after you find yourself lost in the forest behind the campus. You never truly registered that you missed a turn to head to Ramshackle, not while you attempt to recall the way Silver's breath felt down your neck.

Much to your sadness, it was only a dream to feed your delusions. This crush of yours was bound to drive you insane if you did not take care of it and confess to him soon.

That was if you ever got out of the forest. Grim just had to be stuffing himself full of tuna at the mess hall, but at least he wouldn't be making fun of you for being so absentminded.

You were probably going to make it out alive. There were more than enough people on campus who would easily find you. There was the beastmen and their keen noses, not to mention Rook who seemed to be scarily good at tracking down people. You sigh to yourself, running a hand through your hair.

It'd be nice if Silver was the one who rescued you instead.

"Prefect," Speaking of which, you could easily detect his voice among a crowd. Immediately washing off your flustered disposition, you turn around and grin at the silver-haired student who was making his way through a bush. "Silver!" Your voice is cheery, almost as if you weren't having a complete meltdown over a dream. "What brings you here?"

You immediately take notice of Silver's companions; a bird perched on his finger, followed by a squirrel, a skunk, and a young deer at his leg. "A few friends told me that a friend was in need of rescuing." You chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your head. Suddenly, maybe being found by Rook was a lot better than dying of embarrassment in front of your crush. Nonetheless, spending time with Silver was always better than dying in a corner of your room just because your feelings refused to be known.

"I suppose I did get lost." You stammer before beaming at him, seemingly relieved by the prospect of being found. "—but you came to rescue me! My savior!" You comically gasp, feigning the appearance of a damsel in distress. Silver chuckles at your theatrics, allowing the animals to disperse into the forests before he stepped closer to you. "I'd rather it be me than anyone else, really." The implication is lost on you as you laughed nervously, lightly jabbing his arm in jest.

"Careful there, Silver. You're starting to sound like a prince from the tales."

You pause as Silver takes another step closer, almost tethering the borders of your own personal bubble. "There is a famous tale known in Briar Valley. Are you familiar with the Tale of the Sleeping Princess?" You look at him, perplexed by that little glint in his eye that reminds you of Lilia. "I've heard variations of it." You breathed out.

"You must be aware that she was cursed into a deep sleep. To break the curse, she must be given a kiss of true love." You should be nervous, but oddly enough, this sense of closeness felt natural. You nod in acknowledgement before shrugging in your confusion. "A prince woke her up, didn't he? But they have never met before, and she chose to wed him at the end of the story."

There is a knowing smile on Silver's face as he hummed in agreement. "I'd say that they had met before, just as we had."

Before you can even decide to die of embarrassment on the spot, he had already closed the gap as he did once before. Silver gentle hand had brushed against your cheek, and his long hair tickles your skin as he lowers himself to your ear.

"And you know my heart," He murmurs so quietly, but it sends flutters into your chest nonetheless. You croon into his palm, sighing softly before rising to your toes. "From where?" You ask him, and he swiftly leans downwards to lay upon a gentle kiss onto your lips for the first time.

"Once upon a dream."

#silver x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #silver #silver vanrouge #twst silver #twisted wonderland silver #viaviavie writes #chaaaaaaat pray for me bc i procrastinated on my paper for this boy #a decision i do not regret one bit

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ghostie-luvs · 2 years ago

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Yandere! Patient <3

tw: depression,, obsessive behavior, very slight mention of sh/attempt

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who had been suffering from depression ever since he was young. His parents never tried to figure out why, only sending him to all these different therapists in hopes of helping him. Of course, they cared but they were also too busy, and perhaps, that was one of the leading causes: neglect.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who never tried hurting himself or attempting but only wallowed in the emptiness of the house he grew up in, no siblings to play with, no parents to admire, only him, and a few servants.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who during highschool, got his first ever partner. Gods, he was ecstatic! I mean, the man was touch starved, attention starved, everything starved really. He really did like the person,, so much that his love developed into a sort of unhealthy love, or so people call it.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who would do anything for his new partner, go above and beyond for them..even if they didn’t like it. I mean, shouldn’t they be more appreciative of his efforts? No matter, he still loves them and will do whatever it takes for them to be happy.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ whose love only grows, progresses into a more..obsessive one. His partner always being treated with the affection he so wish he had when he was younger, with gifts, touches, anything they could ever want.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who savored the feeling of their touches, begging for more each time they pulled away, whining if you could even call it that. He needed the affection, he needed their touch and only deflated whenever he did not get what he wanted, thoughts of his childhood resurfacing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who began to become dependent to his partner, needing them for everything. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, to eat or anything without them. He needed them, desperately. He couldn’t live without them.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who started to panic when his partner began to get distant. He wanted to ask why, wanted to figure out the problem, what he possibly did wrong. His partner gave him no room to even ask, breaking up with him, saying he was too much, and too clingy. What? Too..clingy?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who after the breakup, didn’t take it very well. He fell into the old friend of his that he had when he was young, finding no use of taking care of himself.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who was sent to a psychiatrist when his parents came back from abroad, noting his appearance and realizing what was happening again. He fought back, he told them that those damn people never helped him!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, the day he arrived to his supposed assigned psychiatrist, felt absolutely horrible being there and only kept to himself. He knew how it would be already. They would prescribe him medicine that didn’t even work.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, when his eyes fell on you, as you called his name and greeted him with a smile, inviting him to yours and your mentors office-you were only an assistant, only two years older than him- felt his world suddenly fill with colors. What? Soulmates don’t exist. So why was this happening and why did he feel so giddy at your welcoming smile?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who followed you into your office, making himself comfortable as you told him to sit down and tell you about himself. Why was he nervous? Either way, he did exactly what you told him and found himself getting comfortable in your presence and your smile.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who felt happy..happy in a long time at how much you’ve listened to him and treated him so nicely..just like his partner. He was excited for the next appointment, practically sulking when he had to leave, ignoring the fact that you probably prescribed him medicine on the way out, too busy with what would happen next time.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who knew he wouldn’t be taking that medicine anyway. Why would he when he found that you were good enough, that you were the cure?

a/n: ahhh another character <3 please point out any mistakes or any constructive criticism is welcomed!! Reblogs are very much appreciated!!

please note that I am not a professional/ expert in the field of mental illnesses and reach out to one if you ever feel symptoms relating to depression or s! thoughts.

more of my works :)

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neptuneiris · 1 year ago

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could you pretend to be in love? (01/10)

The Proposal

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: with his last relationship ending in disaster and giving the college a lot to talk about, the most popular guy comes to you for help to save his reputation. but you never expected him to need to fake a relationship... with you.

word count: 4.8k

series masterlist • next part

AHHH GUYS I am so excited!

okey this is an unexpected idea, obviously I have been inspired by all the boys i loved before because recently i watch the three movies and i love the result of this and I have so much prepared for it that I'm so excited for you guys to read it already:)

I still have a bit more to work on but so far I'm loving it so I look forward to reading your opinions on it, for now enjoy a small part of everything to come! thank you for reading and for your support❣

also leaked everything I have planned a few moments ago but in spanish. I didn't even put the draft to post it, so I don't know what happened but it was my cue to finally share this hehe

"Y/N... I need your help."

That was the first thing someone said to you one Thursday morning in the library before your Science class started, this beginning a rather... peculiar day.

But you didn't expect those words to be said by Aemond Targaryen, the most popular guy in basically the whole school, to you, the most introverted girl in the class and probably not in the whole school since there are people even more introverted than you, but something like that.

So you slowly put your book down, raising your gaze to watch Aemond in front of you slightly confused and expectantly.

And the first thing you see is his eager and needy gaze in your direction, completely attentive to you. His hand grips the strap of his backpack and his gorgeous silver hair falls elegantly like a curtain down his back.

"Y-yes?"

"I'm..." he starts to tell you a little hesitantly, "I'm interrupting you with something?"

"Hum..." you look at your books scattered around the table for a moment, "I'm just... studying for the test on Monday."

"Oh," he nods absently, "Okay, listen, I don't want to stop you but this is really important and I need you to listen to me," he pleads quietly, looking really desperate, "The faster we talk, the faster I'll leave you alone and you can get back to studying."

And this is what gets your attention completely.

However, you continue to feel a mixture of mild surprise and confusion as it is unusual for him to address you or for you to talk to him despite being in the same classes.

You almost always find yourself in the corners, away from conversations and curious glances, although that doesn't mean that you are not participative and one of the best in your class, since you are always taking notes and concentrating on your studies.

You don't really talk to many people, only to people who are just as untalkative and quiet as you are.

And on the other hand, there is Aemond Targaryen, also a student just as dedicated as you and the best in the class, with the difference that he always occupies a place at the front of the classroom, always surrounded by friends and admirers.

He is the type of person that everyone notices and not only because of his unusual appearance, which in fact drives all the girls crazy, but also because of his charisma, personality and for being the captain of the lacrosse team.

And this is why despite being in the same classes, neither of you had ever had a reason to cross words before. You didn't even know that he knew your name, while everyone around you knows his.

"Okay..." you say not entirely convinced, "What is it?"

Aemond takes a deep breath of air, taking his gaze away from yours for a moment, looking a bit nervous and hesitant, which is very rare from him, as he has always proven to be a decisive and firm person for everything.

And in an act of nerves, he quickly takes a seat in front of you, still looking just as desperate as before.

"Look, I know we don't talk much even though we share classes..." he pauses a little, "Well, we don't really talk at all," he corrects himself, "And I also know you don't have any reason to... help me, but..." he sighs frustrated, "I really need your help."

You look expectant, waiting for him to tell you more, but apparently he himself doesn't know what it is he's going to ask you for help with, or rather he can't believe it, as he looks very nervous and can't find the right words to tell you.

So before asking the big question, he speaks again first.

"Do you know my ex-girlfriend? Alys Rivers?"

You raise your eyebrows at him a little, still expectantly, not understanding what that has to do with him asking for your help and you make your confusion clear for a moment, but still nod in his direction.

Because of course, how could you not know who Alys Rivers is?

She's like a more modern version of walking Regina George, with the other difference being that Alys is black hair.

"Ah... yeah."

"And I'm sure you must know what happened between me and her recently," he tells you cautiously and also a little expectantly.

"I think the whole school knows," you make it clear to him, in a soft tone.

"Yeah, of course, I just wanted to make sure," he tells you without further elaboration, "Anyway, I need your help with that."

You frown and look at him not entirely convinced.

"You want to talk about how your ex-girlfriend cheated on you?"

"No, no, not that, of course not," he hurries to say, "I need your help with her, with Alys," he clarifies but you're still just as confused.

"Aemond, you're not being entirely clea—

"I need you to fake a relationship with me."

He tells you bluntly, in an impulsive act to tell you once and for all before it becomes more difficult, causing you to become speechless and disbelief and surprise to flash in your eyes and gaze.

Suddenly your heart starts beating too fast, completely bewildered, waiting for him to tell you it's a joke.

However, the expression on his face makes it clear to you that he is not joking and that he is being terribly serious and honest about this, despite how absurd his words have sounded, making you feel only even more confused.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I'm really asking you this," he states to you, in a low voice, completely honest and desperate.

Again, surprise washes over you and a wave of insecurity washes over your entire insides, as you can't quite believe it and understand it.

"W-what?"

You almost whisper, even with all the disbelief in your gaze. And he lets out a sigh, bringing his hands to his head.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy and ridiculous, but... I really need to do this with someone," he says softly, pleadingly and quietly, "And not have anyone suspect, of course. This just to make Alys jealous and to stop me looking like a fool in front of the whole school after what she did."

You continue to stare at him incredulously, your lips parted and your brow furrowed, saying nothing for a few moments as Aemond in front of you begins to lose patience.

But he understands and knows what you must be thinking, it's the same thing he thought when he came up with this 'great' idea. He knew you would look at him the way you are looking at him now, like a madman.

"I'm sure it won't take us long, just enough time to convince the whole school and no more," he tries to convince you, insistent.

"But..." you say incredulously, "Do you realize what you're talking about?"

"Yes, I realize it. But it's not like it's the biggest crime or the biggest scam in the world either," he tells you absurdly.

Another silence.

You definitely didn't expect him to tell you all this and why he wants to. You understand his desperation since literally the whole school found out that Alys cheated on the hottest guy in the whole school with a college guy or something. And she along with him were the perfect couple of the moment.

So you understand that he's upset and humiliated, but he's willing to go to this length?

You are not on the same page as him.

"Please, Y/N," he begs you low and watching you completely intently.

"Hum..." you say beginning to feel uncomfortable, as you look away from him, "I-I'm sorry, but I'm sure someone else could help you, Ae—

"Please," he says desperately, "At least consider it."

"Aemond, this is literally the first conversation we've both had after sharing classes for almost three years," you tell him incredulously, trying to prove your point, "We don't talk to each other, we don't really know each other and for you to suddenly ask me for help with this..." you pause, then shrug, "I don't understand."

"It's not that hard to understand," he says still insistent, "And I get what you mean, but..." he lets out a sigh, "Look, I haven't asked anyone else for help, you're the first because I want you to be the one to do this with me—

"You don't need to try to make me feel special, you know? I-I don't—

"No, that's not why," he assures you, "In fact you're the only one who could help me, there's no one better," he explains, "I've been watching you lately, you're discreet, you hardly talk to anyone, basically no one notices you and this way, no one will expect it, not even Alys."

And even though he tried to explain himself in the best way without malice in his words and without referring to you in a bad way when explaining why you, you feel a slight sharp pain in your chest with confusion, sadness and resentment invading you.

"You don't need to explain who I am or what I'm like," you say in your low voice, avoiding looking him in the eye, trying to control your tone that conveys sadness but also seriousness, "Nor do you need me to be the resolution to your problems."

Aemond's gaze transforms to one of concern and distress, watching you completely intently.

"No, no, wait," he says instantly, his tone full of regret, "Fuck, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, rea—

"Don't worry about it anymore," you reply with a nonchalant wave of your hand, keeping your gaze serious as you begin to put your things away.

"No, please, Y/N, wait," he pleads, trying to stop you, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to put you down or anything. I just wanted to explain—

"Look, I understand what you want to accomplish, but that doesn't justify using someone else, especially someone you barely know, to solve your own problems."

"Y/N, please. I'm sorry, just let me—

He tries to stop you, looking for an opportunity to clear the air, but you're already leaving.

"I can't help you," you interrupt him again in a final tone.

And without further ado you turn away from him, not caring that you've left the books on the table without returning them to the shelves. And even though he tries to stop you between apologies, you don't let him and walk away from him.

Of course, that wouldn't be the only time Aemond would try to talk to you.

After what happened in the library, no matter where you were, even being in the last empty halls on the top floor during lunchtime, Aemond would always find you to try to talk and apologize.

But you whenever you saw him approaching, you would always slip into another hallway or blend in among all the other students, looking for and finding any alternative to avoid talking to him.

But he kept trying.

And you didn't understand how you suddenly went from having your nose stuck in books all the time, to going from avoiding the hottest and most popular guy in the whole school.

Because you knew that not only would he try to apologize, he would also try to convince you again about his idea and right now you had too many things on your mind to worry about other people's needs.

So one day, taking advantage of the fact that you have a free class after lunchtime and you won't have to worry about Aemond for a while, you head to the schoolyard, choose a table, set up your laptop, open a folder and put on your headphones.

But it seems that things are not in your favor today.

You haven't even played your Spotify playlist when you see Aemond approaching in the distance from the lacrosse field.

You almost want to cry from frustration.

So without wasting any time, you stand up and quickly start putting your things away.

"Oh, come on Y/N," you hear his disappointed complaint in the distance and he starts trotting towards you.

You can't help but feel annoyed too, but before you can take a step, he gets there first.

"Would you stop stalking me, please?" you demand as you start to walk away.

"Please, just let me talk to you for a second," he pleads, stopping you gently but firmly.

"There's nothing even to talk about," you tell him earnestly and disinterestedly at the same time, trying to fend him off and move forward.

He again blocks your path.

"Please," he repeats, "I just want to apologize for the other day."

"We both know that's not what you really came here to say."

He lets out a long sigh as he looks away from you for a moment, then returns to watching you intently and with some concern.

And you wonder what he's doing here. He's wearing his lacrosse uniform so shouldn't he be training with his team or something?

"Look, I understand that you're upset....

He starts to say and you understand at that moment that he has no intention of going anywhere until he has finished talking to you.

"... but I need you to know that I'm really sorry I said those words to you. It wasn't what I really meant, it was cruel and I didn't realize it at the time."

You let out a long breath as you look away and press your lips together.

"It's okay, I understand," you look at him, "And I forgive you, if that's what you need to hear, fine, I forgave you. Now it's all forgotten and we can call it even."

Again, you try to dodge him to get away, but he steps in your way again, blocking your path.

"Wait," he asks, "Just wait," he repeats to you in his insistent voice, full of longing and concern evident on his face. "Can we talk, please?"

You shake your head as you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your frustration mounting.

"I already told you I won't do it, Aemond."

"Have you at least considered it?" his tone becomes expectant and frustrated.

"Yes and it's an idea that makes no sense," you reply absurdly, interrupting him. "Or well, maybe to you it does, but—

"So that's it?" he interrupts you immediately, his gaze fixed on yours, "Do you want to benefit from this too if we do?"

You immediately shake your head in his direction, trying to deny any hint of that.

"No, that wasn't what—

"What do you want in return?" he interrupts again, his expression completely willing and attentive. "Tell me what it is you want to agree to pretend to be in a relationship with me."

Seven Hells.

You think as a frustrated sigh escapes your lips.

You feel trapped in an emotional interrogation, struggling to find the right words as you desperately search for a way out. His direct and persistent questions leave you blank for a moment.

"Listen, I can't and don't have time to help you with something like that."

He sighs, looking away from you for a moment.

"Okay," he says, moving to take a seat on the other side of the table you were sitting at earlier, "I'm listening," he watches you carefully.

You frown at his change in attitude.

"You hear me?" you repeat, confused.

"Yes, I hear you," he replies, looking at you expectantly, "Tell me why you can't and why you don't have the time."

"Don't you have training or something?"

"Yes, but it doesn't matter."

"You'll get into tro—

"It doesn't matter," he interrupts you, keeping his seriousness and attention, "So tell me, I'm listening."

He lets out an incredulous, absurd laugh.

"I don't have to explain myself with yo—

"The point here is that I don't believe you," he lets you know with determination, interrupting you again, "And if you don't tell me why, I'll keep insisting and bothering you until you tell me yes," he says with a slightly amused but determined look on his face.

You look at him slightly confused and surprised, not understanding what is wrong with him, also feeling a mixture of annoyance inside you and curiosity for his persistence.

"It doesn't matter, I'll still keep telling you no," you affirm as a final word to start walking away from him.

However, as soon as you advance a few steps, you feel how someone snatches the folder you are carrying with you quickly and abruptly, which stops you in your tracks. And you turn to him in surprise and confusion.

"Hey!" you protest, puzzled by his action.

"Uh, what do we have here?" he comments with a mischievous grin and a look full of amusement, getting up to turn away from you as he flips through the papers.

"That's none of your business!" you reproach him, running up to him and trying to retrieve your folder.

"Citadel University," he mentions with a tone of interest, running away from your attempts to catch up with him.

"Aemond!" you call, demanding that he give you back what is yours. But he continues to back away and read the sheets at the same time.

"Uh," he comments in concentration as he reads something specific, "This really is bad news."

"That's enough!" you yell at him, completely annoyed and frustrated, finally managing to snatch the folder from his hands and slam it shut.

The tension between the two of you increases as you hold the folder tightly and definitely start to pull away from him.

"No, no, okay, I'm sorry," he stops you instantly, grabbing your arm and stepping in front of you, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—

"Sure, you never meant to," you tell him half-heartedly, trying to dodge him but he won't let you.

"Okay, fine, I was an idiot, I know. But—hey, listen please."

"Are you going to leave me alone or not?" you inquire annoyed, releasing yourself from his grip, watching him expectantly.

He lets out a sigh.

"Y/N—

"I don't have time for this. I have to go."

"But—wait!" he urges you, also on the verge of tears from frustration as you dodge him but he again steps back in front of you, stopping you, "Could you just—listen to me, please."

"No."

"Please!" he insists, "Y/N, I-I... fuck," he lets out a sigh, looking away from yours for a moment, "I'm really sorry," he tells you sincerely, "But let me talk to you. You won't have to do anything but listen to me," he implores, "And after this, if you still want me to stop bothering you and leave you alone, I will."

You watch him completely intently, assessing his words and noting the desperation reflected in his gaze. And even though your mind tells you to forget him and get away from him and this whole situation, something inside you makes you hesitate.

You let out a long, deep breath, telling yourself that you just have to give him a chance to talk and you can finally walk away without feeling remorse.

"Okay, but make it quick," you agree reservedly, keeping your distance.

And even though you're still firm about continuing to tell him no and feel annoyed about earlier, you're curious what he has to say.

"Hum... do you want to sit?"

He points to the table you were sitting at earlier with an awkward and strange gesture. You're about to tell him no but not wanting to argue again, so this will end quickly, you resignedly take a seat and he instantly follows you.

He takes a seat in front of you and you continue with all your belongings in your lap, not trusting to leave them on the table within his reach because of earlier, feeling a knot in your stomach and a slight ache in your chest as you briefly glance at the folder he was snooping through earlier.

"I won't take up too much of your time, I just want to get back to what we were talking about earlier," he tells you softly and with some caution, taking a moment before speaking again, "You want something in return for agreeing to fake the relationship with me?"

You let out a long sigh.

"No, I don't want anything, Aemond. There is nothing I want that you can give me in return," you clarify in a firm tone, "I don't even have the time to do that. I have other important things to take care of instead of.... that."

He exhales, starting to look just as frustrated as you do.

"Like what?" he dares to ask.

"None of your business," you reply immediately.

He looks away from your gaze for a moment, feeling more frustration, swallowing hard and looking hesitant for a moment, but still determined, not wanting this conversation to end before he can try.

"It has to do with the Citadel thing?"

The mention of the college you fought so hard to gain access to makes you feel that sharp pain in your chest again, making your heart flip.

Sadness, disappointment, all those emotions come flooding back just like the first time you read that rejection letter from the college. All your effort, all your performance, was simply not enough for the university to recognize.

The college of your dreams.

"I told you that's none of your business," you act instantly serious and defensive.

"I don't mean to intrude, Y/N—

"That's exactly what you're doing," you point out incredulously.

"You applied for a scholarship and didn't get it, didn't you?" yet you still dare to say, taking a risk, "That's what I read."

"And you shouldn't have," you say firmly, trying to hide the sadness and disappointment his words have triggered in you, "You have no right to go through my personal business."

"I know and I'm sorry, but—

He begins to try to say, but you interrupt him, determined to end the conversation.

"That's what you were going to say?" you tell him, starting to get up with all your things to leave, "If that's all, I'll just go—

"You haven't really let me talk," he interrupts you, insistent, "I can offer you something in return and worth considering to get you to accept the fake relationship with me. But only if you stay and listen to me—

"Oh please, Aemond," you interrupt him in disbelief, sensing the absurdity of the situation, "You know what? Okay, let me hear it," you say with sarcasm in your tone and an expectant look, "Tell me what you could offer me in return that would be worth considering," you add wryly.

"I can help you with your college application," Aemond hastens to say.

Surprise invades everything inside you, listening attentively to his unexpected proposal, definitely not expecting to hear that.

You remain completely silent, just watching him intently, while he gives you a firm and sincere look back. You have no idea what to say, feeling how suddenly your heart starts beating too hard.

"I have connections there, my grandfather and my sister," he lets you know, "I can send them all your information, personal recommendations, all your academic history and have them give you a place with the scholarship you wanted," he tells you and the surprise grows more inside you, "Graduation is near, I can facilitate the whole process for you and I am willing to do it if you help me."

Again, you say nothing.

But the surprise is more than evident on your face.

Their offer, this, really is too much, to the point that your mind starts to be a whirlwind of emotions and you begin to feel distrust, uncertainty and inner conflict.

But on the one hand, his offer is tempting. The idea of getting help from him to get a place in the college you so long for definitely catches your attention, but it also makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

Honestly his words stir something in you, but caution prevails.

The desire to get a place in that university is basically a dream come true, but it clashes with your principles and at the same time you think ahead with lingering doubt whether not accepting was a grave mistake.

Although... are you really able to say no to this? Your dream? To the university that will give you the opportunity to offer a better quality of life for you and your father?

Certainly, Aemond's words are not something you would have believed from anyone else. You would have laughed too hard at the big lie since it is basically impossible to get a place at a high-demand university like Citadel.

But you admit that Aemond Targaryen is not just any person.

Everyone knows that his father owns the most important company in the whole country. And his mother's surname is linked to and owns the influential Hightower banks. The combination of both surnames carries with it a network of influential contacts and connections, so you believe him.

The reality is undeniable; Aemond is exaggeratedly rich, his whole family is, so knowing all this basically gives you to understand that he can undoubtedly secure a place at Citadel University for himself and, apparently, for you as well.

But the hesitation you still feel stops you, still thinking carefully about his proposal.

"So what you want in return is just that?" you ask him wanting to be all clear, "To agree to pretend a relationship with you?"

Your voice reveals a hint of disbelief as you stare at Aemond, waiting for a more detailed explanation. The idea that this all revolves around a farce of a relationship never ceases to generate confusion in you.

The simplicity of his request sounds almost surreal, and makes you question his true intentions.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but yes, that's all I'm asking, Y/N," he replies without hesitation, his tone serious and direct.

His intense blue eye remains fixed on yours, as you give yourself a small second simply out of curiosity to appreciate his prosthetic left eye up close, an accident as a child or something you heard.

But your mind returns to his request immediately, still feeling the mixture of uncertainty and curiosity. An awkward pause settles between the two of you as you finally break the silence with a doubt-laden sigh.

"But, why me?" you can't help but ask, "I mean, why offer this to me, something really important and big to agree to help you," you explain your point, "I know you said that with me it will be easier but.... there are other girls who could help you with this, or not?"

Aemond adjusts slightly in his seat, sighing as he searches for the right words.

"I misspoke about you at first. It wasn't what I really meant about no one noticing you, you're invisible and all that shit, because it's not true," he tells you softly, "You are different and definitely calmer than other girls who I know will tell me yes without hesitation, but I'm not looking for that, I need someone genuine, someone I can trust to make this work and someone who won't get too excited."

His answer seems sincere, you know he really is sincere, but you still feel the knot in your stomach.

Accepting to help him would mean immersing yourself in a world that you never had any interest in fitting into and that most of the time you've been trying to keep your distance from.

You don't care about having a lot of friends, having followers on social media, being popular, being the prettiest and getting attention from guys. You also wouldn't want to be looked at and given too much attention just for dating Aemond Targaryen, if you accept.

But would you really be proud enough not to accept so you wouldn't have to do all that, letting go of the chance to get into Citadel University?

A shiver runs down your spine as you consider the implications of accepting his proposal and after a brief pause, you let out a sigh and finally nod your head as you swallow hard to speak nervously and with determination.

"All right. Let's do it."

The surprise and disbelief is completely reflected in Aemond's gaze to then quickly rise from his seat and take a couple of steps towards you, completely delusional.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes but don't make me regret it."

And then his whole face transforms, with relief reflecting in his gaze and... strangely, letting go of that worry that has invaded him for days now, also stress along with frustration and a weight on his shoulders.

"Thank you. You don't know how much I appreciated it. And this will be over sooner than you think, I promise."

A wave of uncertainty washes over you as you wonder if you have made the right decision. He seems satisfied with your answer, but deep down a trace of doubt clings in your mind along with the echo of consequences that resonates eerily.

You wonder how others are going to view you seeing you very soon at Aemond's side and whether it will drastically change your school life, which is irrelevant, but in their world, absolutely everything matters.

"So, what's next?" you ask, really unable to believe you've agreed.

Aemond straightens up completely, watching you attentively and with that readiness in his gaze, there is also a certainty that you do not possess, as you actually feel very small before the whole show you will put on together with him and it hasn't even started.

"First of all, a contract."

#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond one eye #aemond x y/n #modern aemond #modern au

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oneforthemunny · 8 months ago

Note

ahhh love me a blurb game! could i pretty please request for mafia!eddie, fluff, matching pajama sets 🥹 thank you mwa ily

i'm screaming this is such a good one ahhh!!! i am loving the requests this blurb game!! everyone is so creative and fun so thank you!! hope you all enjoy <3

"Do you have them on?"

Eddie swallowed back a reluctant huff, running a hand down his face. He should tell you they don't fit, lie and tell you that there was a tear in them, reach for his pocket knife and slice them up.

Flashes of your disappointed face crossed his mind, and he knew he wouldn't do that- couldn't. So instead, he took a deep breath in, buttoning up the flannel.

"Eddie!" Your voice rang out again, knocking on the closet door. "Do you have them on? Let me see!"

"Just a second, baby." Eddie muttered, fixing the collar. The doorknob turned anyways, letting yourself in. His stern glare was short lived, cut off by your own excited gasp.

"Oh! Look at you!" You cooed, grinning at him. He was sight, standing in the dark interior of the closet, sticking out with dramatic contrast in the bright cream of the pajamas.

Eddie's lips tugged in a half grin, curling when he saw you in your own pajamas, matching ones.

You'd come home that day giddy and bursting with excitement, rambling on and on about how you'd found the most perfect pajamas to ever exist. He'd expected lingerie when you'd set the bag down in his office. Much to his surprise, it was not. Instead, two sets of flannel pajama sets, matching, with tiny Dobermans embroidered all over.

"It's the boys!" You squealed, clutching them to your chest. "It's the boys on pajamas! Isn't it perfect? I mean, what were the odds that they had these and they had them in our size?"

"Our?" Eddie nearly choked. He almost laughed when you'd shown him his, nearly scoffed and told you he'd never wear that.

The second your face fell, excitement extinguished by his hesitancy, that familiar pit came back to his stomach.

So, here he was instead, putting on the matching pajamas, letting you gush about how cute he looked, hugging him in the mirror. "Look boys," You cooed, clicking your tongue so they all piled in, sitting in front of you. "It's you! Look! Mommy and Daddy are wearing you!"

Diablo's tail wagged, whimpering and shifting with excitement, desperate to jump up and lick your face, but Eddie was there. "Come here," You patted your shoulders, letting him jump. "Be careful, Dio, baby. Don't rip them, be gentle. Look it's you! You can't rip these, they have you on them!"

The other boys started to whine, standing to pace and circle you, jealous of their brother. Eddie snapped his fingers, pointing down so they all sat at attention. You frowned at him.

"Don't let them jump on you." Eddie glared at you, the same stern look in his eyes. "They'll knock you over."

"No, they won't." You rolled your eyes, an involuntary click coming from Eddie. Vecna growled in protective warning towards Eddie, a low growl, but a warning all the same.

"They're just so excited that Mommy and Daddy have matching jammies with them on them, aren't you?" You cooed, dropping to your knees to hug and kiss Vecna, letting him know that you were alright.

Eddie grinned, a soft puff of air coming from his nostrils. "You spoil them."

"You spoil me." You countered easily. "Don't you love them? They're so soft!"

"Yeah, they are. A lot more comfortable than I thought they'd be." Eddie nodded easily. "Like you in them a lot. Look good in them, baby."

You rolled your eyes, scratching Lucifer's head gently. "Daddy's so silly, isn't he?" You grinned up at Eddie. "But, you look pretty hot in these too. Really doin' it for me." You admitted with a shy smile.

Eddie laughed. "Yeah? The matching pajamas get you going?"

"Oh, yeah." You nodded, shuffling on your knees towards him. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his face neutral as you sat in front of him, looking at him sweetly through your lashes. "The pjs really get me going. You look so good in them."

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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Note

Hi :) I've never requested before and am a little embarrassed to be here. But I'm also in my Spencer Reid Brainrot era and am a fan of your writing! I was thinking something with a virgin female reader who is genophobic (specifically fear of vaginal penetration, in her case) and Spencer helps her work through her fear and try something new? She doesnt need to have trauma, just the phobia. Either BAU or non BAU reader is fine, just as long as they aren't initially dating and there is a slow build up to the intimacy. Also, could it be race-blind? (e.g "I could see she was embarrassed" instead of "her cheeks turned pink") Fluff, smut, and mutual pining. Ack, please it would make my MONTH!!

-❤️‍🩹

A/N: I really hope I did this one justice!! It was fun to research and write and ahhh the slow burn (which was definitely a lot faster than it should have been if I had more time 🫣 sorry). I hope you like it!

W/C: 5k

Warnings: Genophobia (fear of sexual intimacy), panic attack, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), virgin reader, inexperienced Spencer, two idiots in love again, vaginal sex, fingering, contraception actually used! Mainly soft and sweet sex 😊

Find my masterlist here! Get ready for kinktober with me here!

It was your worst nightmare come true.

You’d had a crush on Spencer for the last three years, working with him in the BAU since Elle had left. You’d joined the team alongside Emily and immediately become enamored with the boy genius, and how could you not? He was smart, and handsome, and most importantly, he respected boundaries.

But here he was in front of you, probably saying the words that you most wanted to hear from him, but he was so close, your heart was beating uncomfortably in your chest, your breath short and your eyes hazy and unfocused for all the wrong reasons.

“Just… If you don’t feel the same, I understand and I’ll never mention it again, but if there’s any chance that you.. That you love me the same way I love you, please tell me.” He had you boxed in against the wall, not touching you exactly, but so close you could feel his breath on your neck, could see the desperation in his eyes as he poured his heart out to you.

The man of your dreams was confessing his love to you, and you were on the verge of a panic attack at his attention.

“Spencer, I have to go,” you gasped out, grasping your chest as you begged your lungs to start working again, as you begged your mouth to stay and explain. But the tears were burning in the corners of your eyes and you had to run from the intimacy of the moment. “I have to... I’m sorry, Spencer, I can’t…” You didn’t get any other words out before you bolted out the door, desperate to find a bathroom stall to cry in. You weren’t sure if the tears were from the very real fear you’d just confronted or the realization that you’d probably just ruined your chances with Spencer Reid.

–X–

A week later, and the awkward tension between the two of you hadn’t dissipated. You wanted to explain yourself, of course, you did, but with the hurt look on Spencer’s face shooting through you every time you were at the other end of his gaze, combined with the absolute fear of being known and judged, you had guiltily kept your mouth shut.

The rest of the team had noticed, of course. The two of you were sending pining looks after one another whenever the other had their back turned, even when preoccupied with a prolific highway murderer, the team would be blind not to see it. Unfortunately for you, the members of the BAU weren’t the ones to let the tension go unconfronted, so you found yourself in increasingly solitary situations, alone but for the company of Spencer himself.

You’d been assigned to work the geographical profile with Spencer, despite usually working alongside Hotch, more used to comforting and interviewing families than analyzing charts and maps. The opportunity to explain had been handed to you on a silver platter, and you had to take it.

“Spencer, can we talk?” You blurted the words out after an unbearably long silence, having watched the man read case file after case file while you distractedly bumbled along beside him.

He paused and gave a small nod, bringing his head up, but not quite meeting your gaze.

“When you… When you said those things last week, did you mean them?”

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Y/N.” The words were tense, but his voice was soft, his eyes holding a resigned look.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry, shit, everything I say is going to sound like an excuse but I’m so sorry…” you rambled, trying to work up the courage to say what you actually wanted to.

“You don’t have to apologize for not feeling the same way I do. It’s okay, I know I’m not the easiest person to love and-”

“You are. You are, Spencer, don’t even think that you are the problem here, because you are not.” You gasped for breath as you pushed the words out unexpectedly, surprising even yourself with the conviction of your tone.

“I love you, Spencer, I do, I just…” You blinked back the tears again as your voice suddenly became a whisper.

“You know when we talked about our… our fears a few weeks back? And I said that I didn’t have anything specific that came to mind?” He listened attentively as you stuttered out the words.

“I lied. When… people get close to me, and when they get close to me in a way that specifically suggests that… suggests that they like me the way you like me, my chest gets tight, and I can’t breathe. Spencer, I’m… I’m scared of sex.”

You let the confession hang in the air between you, almost afraid to look up and see the sympathetic look in Spencer’s eyes. But you had to eventually, and you were surprised.

The man wasn’t even looking at you, and his expression couldn’t even be described as concerned, let alone empathetic.

“Spencer? Did you hear what I said?” He looked up and smiled at you, keeping his distance still, but opening up to you, facing you with open body language, putting all his attention on you without moving even an inch closer.

“Genophobia. Y/N, you’re describing Genophobia. It’s the fear of physical intimacy that often stems from a fear of pain during sexual intimacy or from physical symptoms, such as Vaginosis. Y/N, you don’t hate me.” His grin widened, and you let out a little laugh at the hopeful look on his face as he breathed out that last statement.

“No, no Spencer, I couldn’t hate you.”

“Good, because I thought I’d taken it too far… Nevermind. Y/N, is… is this something you want to work through?” His tone was cautious, and you were touched by the seriousness he was approaching with. Your previous boyfriends had mocked you when you explained why you couldn’t have sex with them, few as they may have been. You’d never been treated with such gentleness.

“Yes. I really want to work through it, but… Spencer, it might take a long time. Is that okay?” He considered your question for a minute, then replied with his own.

“Y/N, can I lean in and kiss your cheek, please? I won’t touch you anywhere else, I just want…please?” You felt a warmth bubbling under your cheeks at the situation, your tongue growing thick in your mouth, not allowing you to respond. You opted for a small nod instead, watching his every move as he slowly moved in.

Placing his hands on the table, he lifted himself up from his chair, keeping them firmly planted there so you could see that he wasn’t going to initiate anything further. His lips finally hit your cheek, and your heart started beating in that familiar way that it usually did, but you forced yourself to hold still until he pulled away. He did so quickly.

“Y/N, I don’t care how long it takes you to be comfortable with me. I’m just happy you chose me.” He finished, then grabbed a file and exited the room, leaving you alone again to calm your heart and un-fog your brain.

–X–

The case closed a few days later, but you didn’t have another chance to talk to Spencer anymore about your relationship, being so caught up in serving justice to the families of the victims. But as Friday approached, your job was finished, an unsub handed over to the authorities ready for prosecution, and you could finally fly back home.

Which is how you found yourself, on the last evening of the work week, pacing outside of his apartment, freaking out about whether you should knock or not. You’d held your hand up to knock a few times, but ultimately let it fall to your side, cursing your cowardice. It was just a door. He was just a man. A man who really cared about you. A man who wanted you. That thought should have had you jumping into his arms at every given opportunity, instead, it was causing heart palpitations at the thought of knocking on a door.

In the end, you didn’t have to knock.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” You heard his voice from behind you as you jumped in place, startled by the fact that he was actually there.

“Shit, Spencer, don’t do that, you scared me.” You grabbed your chest and took a deep breath. He stood still, waiting for your answer to his previous question.

“I was just… Can I come in?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah of course, here let me…” His words trailed off as he grabbed his keys from his pocket, fumbling them slightly as he struggled to get the key into the door.

“Take a seat wherever you… Can, I guess? Sorry, I was doing some reading before I left.” He smiled awkwardly as you walked into the space, and you giggled a little at the confession, seeing that there was really only one open space on the couch left for you to occupy without having to perch awkwardly on the arm of the chair.

You took the seat, moving a single book onto a stack on the sofa next to you, and watched the man as he took off his scarf and coat, storing them and then awkwardly turning back to the couch. He looked around for a place to sit, and, coming to the same conclusion as you did, chose to perch himself on the opposite arm of the sofa to you.

“Oh, Spencer, this is your house, you should sit comfortably.”

“No, you’re a guest, it’s fine. I want you to feel comfortable. What did you want to talk about?” He cleared his throat a little and then turned his eyes back to you, signaling that he was ready to listen attentively.

“Oh…. I was hoping…. Spencer, can you touch me?” You saw his face flush at your suggestion, and your eyes widened at your own foolish wording.

“Shit, not like that. Not that I don’t want you to touch me like that, but I think it’s too soon, and I’m still not comfortable with that. I was just hoping that you could, you know, hold me for a while, like a hug or something?” You rambled it all out, and you could hear yourself rambling but you couldn’t stop it. The words dropped from your mouth before you could even think about stopping them, and you felt the blood rush to your head as you cringed slightly at the situation.

“Okay.”

“Okay? You’re…. You’re okay with that?” You asked, looking hopefully up at Spencer.

“Do you want to sit together, or were you thinking something else?” You jumped up from your seat then, and glanced around the room as you considered his words.

“Oh, um, sitting together would be good I suppose?” He nodded and lifted himself up from the arm, moving closer to you.

“I’m going to sit here, you should probably just join me when you want to, okay?” He whispered the words with a tender smile on his face, and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders disappear. It was incredible that he could do that with a simple smile, that with one glance he could relax your whole body enough to let you push yourself to the limits of your fear.

You gained some confidence, and after letting him get settled in the seat you had just vacated, you moved to straddle his lap. You heard his sharp intake of breath as you wrapped your arms up around his neck, nervously wondering if what you were doing was right.

“Is this okay for you, Y/N?” He asked, stuttering through the words as he struggled to stay focused on you.

“It’s okay now. I want to push myself a little.” You ran your hands down his arms, which had so far lain politely still on the sofa beside him before you pulled them around yourself, letting the hug deepen. He was warm, and between the two of you, you weren’t sure whose heartbeat was louder. You could hear both of them, the room totally still except for your breaths and blinks.

“Y/N, can I… can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You whispered the word in a voice so small, you were sure he hadn’t heard it, as his head crept towards you so slowly you were sure he wasn’t moving. Eventually, you felt his breath on your skin more, and then his lips were softly pressing against your own, the pressure gentle, not demanding any more than what you were currently giving him.

You melted into it, pushing yourself further into his warmth, your chests now pressed together as he languidly moved his lips against yours, claiming them again and again and again. You kept pushing and pushing into him, growing more sloppy in your kisses, grabbing onto the back of his sweater with two desperate fists, needing him close.

It wasn’t until your hips bucked involuntarily in his lap, unconsciously demanding friction that you began to panic once again, immediately pulling your lips and torso out of his reach.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I can’t… it’s… shit it’s not you, Spencer. God, I’m such an idiot.” You pulled your hands over your eyes, embarrassed at the thought of being seen by him right then, but still firmly seated in his lap.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, pulling your hands away from your face with a gentle touch. “It’s okay, Y/N. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” You nodded at his words and took a few more minutes to compose yourself.

“Can we…can we just cuddle for a while? Like this?” You asked, and his smile instantly became bright.

“I would love to. Let’s move some of these books though.” You shifted the books quickly and then fell back into his lap, his body now laying more vertically than before, stretching out into the larger space now available on the couch. You pushed your head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat, following it with your own, and letting it be the soundtrack to your descent into sleep.

–X–

Waking up in his arms was a life-changing experience. Sometime during your sleep, he had carried you to his bed, letting you sleep soundly as he made you more comfortable. He hadn’t taken any of your clothes off, of course, just removed your shoes and made sure you were warm enough in the skirt and blouse you had been wearing.

Your position had changed, too, and it was one of the first things you noticed as you blinked your eyes open, trying to rid them of sleep as you greeted the new day. Instead of being below you, he was behind you, pressed against you with a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him like a child clutching a favored toy.

“Spence,” you whispered through a grin. “Spencer, wake up.” You turned your head around to him, but he moaned in his sleep, not wanting to leave his rest just yet. You giggled at his childlike petulance, trying to shift around to face him, but his grip was too tight. Pushing against him, you felt something, hard, pushing against your back. You shifted again, but it was still there, and it took you only a few more seconds to figure out what it was.

“Shit, Spencer, wake up,” your tone probably sounded more frantic than you felt, as it woke him quickly now, his body releasing yours enough to let him pull himself up, taking stock of the room as he looked around searching for what had panicked you.

“What is it, are you okay?” He returned his eyes to your face, but your gaze had slipped down his body, and through the much looser fitting sweatpants he’d thrown on at some point during the night, you could see the outline of his cock.

Curiously, the very sight didn’t have you bolting, as it had in situations in the past. You had frozen, of course, but you weren’t filled with as much dread as you had been only a few days prior with his confession.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, it’s a biological reaction and… well it’s not purely biological, I do really have feelings for you, but I don’t want you to feel pressured, and… Let me go and get rid of this.” He moved to stand, but you grabbed his arm before he could completely pull away, his hand still resting on your waist.

“Wait… Could we continue from where we were last night?” You looked up at him, the embarrassment of your words sending a rush of adrenaline through your body, almost forcing you to take them back immediately.

“You… you want that?” For the second time in 24 hours, a whispered ‘yes’ was all it took to have him crash his lips into yours. The pressure was the same, but with his body hovering over yours, it felt even more intimate. His hands rubbed small reassuring circles on your hips, as you opened up to him, wanting to pull the full force of his weight down onto you.

His hand fell to your face as he encouraged you to open your mouth to his tongue, letting him explore it thoroughly as he lazily worked his mouth against your own. There was no fight for dominance here, just two people deeply exploring the feeling of one another, so wrapped up in the pleasure that no other thoughts could cross your minds. Not even that of fear.

He pulled away for a breath, and your lips trailed him, trying to capture him again and force him back to you, but he evaded you softly.

“Y/N, can I try something? I want to touch you…more. Is that okay?” You were so desperate for the feeling of his lips against yours again that you moaned out the yes before you even processed his words. His lips fell back against yours, but his weight shifted above you as his right hand trailed down your leg and then back up underneath your skirt.

The touch was so delicate that you shivered under the attention, but you felt your heart start beating faster and faster as he got closer to your center. He asked you once again, and you agreed before he finally touched you through the safety of your panties.

You moaned into the kiss as he cupped you, letting his thumb fall to your clit and beginning to explore you more. He swallowed each and every sound you made with his lips, committing every move you made, every reaction to memory. You grew more pliable under all his attentions, growing comfortable in reacting to his every movement, letting him control the pace and flow of your shared caresses. A heat was growing at the depth of your stomach, and you knew it was coming.

Your brain finally kicked back into gear as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes jolting open as he released your mouth, the breathless moan that erupted from you causing your entire body to tense up. You pushed him away, and clutched your chest, scrambling up into a seated position as he quickly noted the change in your body language, letting you out of his grip.

You struggled to get your breathing out of control, desperately searching for a way out, an excuse, or anything to say to make you feel better, but you came up blank.

“I’m sorry… I’m really…” You couldn’t force out any other words before you jumped out of his bed and bolted out of the apartment, having ruined everything again for the second time.

–X–

Another week ticked by before you knew it, and you still hadn’t talked to Spencer since he’d pushed you over the edge. The fact that he hadn’t tried to talk to you either had you convincing yourself that it meant whatever you shared was over now.

It was a nice feeling to share, but you couldn’t keep it up forever, just like you hadn’t been able to in any of your previous relationships. But there was something about Spencer that you didn’t want to give up on, so you didn’t.

You spent the week looking up advice on how to deal with your fear, booking appointments with Sex Therapists, and, to put it kindly, getting your body used to the idea of sexual interaction. You bought a small vibrator a day or two after you slept over at his house, nothing that would enter you, just something to play with to increase your confidence as you prepared yourself to apologize to him.

But despite all of your efforts, the tension was still running high in the team as they all noticed the sudden disconnect between you and your maybe-boyfriend.

So, with the newly discovered commitment to self-improvement, you found yourself at his door again on another Friday night, this time confidently knocking at the first attempt.

“Y/N, you’re here.” He said, mouth hanging open slightly as his unasked question hung in the air.

“I wanted to talk. About everything.”

“Sure, come in, come in.” He shut the door behind you, and you didn’t bother walking further than the entryway before you started again, not wanting to lose your conviction.

“Spencer, I want you to make love to me. I freaked out last time, and I ran away, and that was so shitty of me, but I think I’m ready now - I went to see this therapist and she gave me some advice, and I’ve been… I’ve been touching myself so I can get myself used to the idea of someone else touching me. And you’re the only person who I want to touch and to touch me, and you’re everything I’ve been thinking about, and I don’t want you to avoid me anymore or think this isn’t going anywhere.” You were almost breathless as you finished, having let your sentences blur into one, not bothering to pause in your exploration.

“Oh, thank god,” Spencer said, wrapping his hands around you suddenly, pulling you to him with a strength you didn’t know he had. “Well, not thank god that you want to have sex with me, thank god that I didn’t push it too far. I thought you hated me after last time, I thought I was trying to selfishly get you to open up too quickly, and I felt so bad about it.” He rambled just the same as you had, not letting go of you for all the world.

“You know, I’ve checked out like 50 books on sexual psychology from the University library this week, I was afraid the librarian was going to call the police on me for creepy behavior or something.” He laughed into you, letting his head drop to your shoulder as he held you comfortably.

“Spencer, that is so sweet.” You felt the sugar in your grin, knowing that this unabashed happiness wasn’t going away anytime soon, any negative feelings at being held this closely dissipating when faced with the love of his actions.

“I’m going to ask again, is that okay?” You nodded at his boyish grin, and he grinned down at you fondly.

“Y/N, may I kiss-” You didn’t let him finish, pushing yourself up on your toes to lock your lips with his before he could.

“Yes. Always yes.” You said releasing him, foreheads resting together.

“I know, but I like to ask.” His lips were on you again then, as he walked you back through his apartment, not stopping once to release your lips. Before you knew it, he was picking you up, and gently returning you to the bed you’d bolted from the week before.

He released you for a breath, and you pushed your top up and off, throwing it to the ground as he stared at you like you had personally each and every star in the sky.

“You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.” He mumbled the words into your skin, before letting his hands once again fall under your skirt, beginning to massage your ass with a firm but still loving embrace. He pulled you against him again, your kisses becoming more and more needy as you felt him grow against you, with each stroke of his tongue forcing your hips to rub together deliciously.

“You know,” he spoke slowly, letting his lips fall down your neck and chest. “All of the literature I read suggested that foreplay was a good way to combat Genophobia. The more prepared you are for the actual sexual act, the less you worry about the ‘pain’ of it all.”

“What are you saying, Spencer?” You whispered, your heart beating fast, but not in an uncomfortable way anymore.

“I’m saying I want to make you feel good. Can I?” His lips had reached your skirt then, and he said the words as his head rested against your thigh, hands slowly pushing your legs wider and wider.

You nodded, and he dived in, at first licking through your underwear as you moaned and writhed underneath him. His hands worked the panties down your legs as he kissed your inner thighs, pushing your skirt up and over your hips so you could watch his every move.

“Fuck Spencer,” you ground into his face again as he returned his tongue to your now soaking hole, desperately chasing the pleasure of his attention. You’d had the time to explore this week, obviously, but it was nothing like this. Every kiss, every suck, every lick, spoke a thousand words to his devotion to you, his love being pressed into you from between your legs. You didn’t know it could be like this. You didn’t think it would be with anyone who wasn’t him.

“Spencer, I can feel it…. Spencer, don’t stop.” You worked a hand into his hair and shamelessly bucked into him now, you high hitting you just like you knew it would. If the first time had been a surprise, this time had been an inevitability. You felt him keep up his ministrations, letting you ride out the full wave of pleasure. When he finally pulled away, he looked into your eyes for confirmation that everything he’d done was okay. Moving a hand to wipe your arousal from his mouth, you stopped him mid-motion and pulled him back on top of you, wrapping your tongue around his own and delighting in the taste of his success.

“Let’s keep going,” you said softly into his ear, and he moaned his approval, before quickly divesting himself of his pants and grabbing a condom from his bedside table.

“Morgan got me a pack of these at Christmas, as a joke, y’know,” he laughed, kissing down your neck again, paying special attention to the few spots darkening to splashes of red.

“Not the time, Spencer,” you laugh at him, and he squeaks out an apology before lining himself up with you.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” He asks, a concerned look plastered on his face, and you pull him down for one short tender kiss before answering again.

“I have never been so sure of any decision I have made in my life, as I am sure about you.” He pressed a kiss to your lips in thanks and then slowly began to fill you up.

There was a small panic in the back of your mind, but he kissed praise into your skin, replacing all of your negative thoughts with nothing but his words, his actions, his love. You relaxed as he stretched you out, not moving his hips but letting his hand return between your legs to help you further adjust to the newness of it all.

You saw a panicked look fall across his face as he kissed away small tears that fell from your eyes, each a small apology for the pain, the confusion of your mixed emotions, but you just laughed his concern away.

“Happy tears, Spencer. They’re happy tears.” He laughed with you then, and with one last seeking out of your approval, you began to move together. His thrusts were slow, lavishing you with attention, letting you feel all of him as his body sought your pleasure. Your legs wrapped around him, unable to stop the desperate need to buck up, up, up with each of his downward strokes.

You were a mess of limbs and kisses, neither of you experienced enough to know how to do anything past what felt good, what felt natural, and you spent your time together like that, giggling with each chaste kiss, moaning and sighing as you both worked your way up to an ecstatic release.

Falling down on top of you after you came together, Spencer didn’t pull out, holding you somehow closer than before as you both let the oxygen return to your lungs.

“I love you,” he whispered into your lips.

“I love you,” you whispered back.

Yes, it was not going to be like that with anyone else. And you didn’t want anyone else at all, now that you finally had him.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #requested #❤️‍🩹 Anon

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wintfleur · 9 months ago

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🎀 hii bestie🤭 congratulations AGAIN on 1k it is so deserved and i am so so happy for you !!!

could i possibly request prompt 014 from 🪷 with cole caufield please ?? have a realll soft spot for him atm and i think you’d write this so so beautifully🤭 okay i luv u lots and congrats again roro😽😵‍💫

౨ৎ mornings with our little pawfield

﹕─┈ pairings ( Cole caufield x female! reader )

°. — summary ( mornings with your two favorite boys )

°. — details ( g; fluff. w; just pure fluff! wc; 1.2k )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ they roll on top of you, cradling your head between their hands as they kiss your nose.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( AHHH BECCA MY LOVE ☹️ ILY SO BADD 🩷 !!! Tysm for sending in a request and for the sweet words !!! I genuinely couldn’t have done this without youu x I hope you enjoy it bestie !!! )

1k celly masterlist main masterlist nhl masterlist

“Shhh don't wake up mommy” Cole whispered to Alfie as they made their way back into the couple's bedroom. Cole ran his hand through his messy hair from a good night's sleep, a tired yawn leaving his lips as he slipped off his slippers that he wore as he took Alfie outside. Alfie just wagged his tail faster in excitement and ran across the floor and jumped on the bottom of the bed, doing that cute little twirl he always did before laying down.

Cole smiled and moved to his side of the bed and pulled back the white duvet to slide back into the warm bed, slowly and carefully so he wouldn't wake you up. Cole laid on his side facing your sleeping body, a fond smile on his lips as he watched your body rise and fall in unison with your breathing. You were laying on your stomach with both of your hands under your pillow, your face was smushed against the soft pillow, causing your lips to form an adorable pout he so desperately wanted to kiss.

The duvet was pulled up to your shoulders and you looked so warm that he just wanted to pull you into his arms and hold you, but he did not want to disturb your sleep. It was far too early for you to wake up on your day off. But it seems their excited dog didn't feel the same way as him, Alfie was determined to wake up his mommy, wanting her attention and ear scratches that only she could do. Cole's eyes widened when he saw Alfie stand up and before Cole could stop the eager dog, the damage was already done.

A groan mixed with tiredness and pain leaves your lips when you abruptly wake up to the feeling of paws on your back, the duvet not protecting you much from the paws in your back. “Alfie get off” you heard your boyfriend hiss as he sits up, alfie letting out a whine but listens, snuggling up against your side and looking up at cole. Another groan leaves your lips as your eyes slowly open before immediately closing at the bright shine coming from the curtains you had forgotten to close the night before.

Your eyes slowly flutter open, blinking away the sleep a few times. Your eyes immediately lock with a smiling Cole as he lays on his side, his eyes already on you, admiring your morning glow like he did every morning he spent with you. He never took a single morning for granted; he knew he was blessed to have such a loving girlfriend like you. He hated being away because of his away games, away from Alfie, away from you, so he cherished every morning with you and alfie.

Before you could open your mouth to say good morning you're cut off with your own shocked squeal when you feel alfie start licking your nose and cheeks. Cole's head falls back against the pillow as a loud laugh leaves his lips at the sight. You hide your face into the pillow, a laugh of your own coming out. Alife soon gives up on his love attack and moves to lay back between his parents, letting you lift your face up from the pillow.

“Mmm my favorite way to wake up” you murmured as you rolled over to lay on your back, stretching your arms out with a yawn, your eyes fluttering close at the satisfying feeling. Cole chuckles and props up on his elbow, looking down at you with a fond smile as you open your eyes and look up at him “What, with paws in your back?”

“No kisses from my favorite boy” you winked teasingly at your smiling boyfriend before placing a quick kiss to Alfie's snout, alfie wagging his tail excitedly from the attention. Cole rolls his eyes and leans forward and places a quick kiss to your forehead, brushing some of your messy hair out of your face before whispering “I'm your second favorite though, right?”

“Depends on who's making breakfast” You smirk as you look up at him, your eyes silently begging him to make breakfast. Alfie perks up at the work breakfast, his ears popping happily as he quickly gets up and jumps off the bed. Quickly running out of the room and into the kitchen, causing the couple to laugh at their dogs' actions. He gets his love for breakfast from his mommy!

“Waffles or pancakes?” Cole asks as he sits up, your eyes traveling down his shirtless chest before quickly looking up at Cole's face, a small smirk on your boyfriend's lips as he catches you checking him out. You lean back on your elbows, the blanket falling down to your waist, you answer sassily “Do you even have to ask?”

“Sorry sorry” Cole chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief, a look you know all too well. You open your mouth to ask your boyfriend what he's thinking about, but instead a squeal of surprise leaves your lips as he quickly rolls to lay between your legs. Your upper body falls back against the bed, a giggle leaving your lips as you feel Cole cradle your head softly between his hands.

“I love you” Cole whispered as the two of you kept eye contact, the eye contact only breaking when your eyes flutter close at the soft keeling of his lips on your nose, his thumbs softly caressing your cheeks. You smile and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down closer to you, one of your hands running through his hair as you both enjoy the soft sweet moments that came with your shared mornings.

You open your eyes and look up at your smiling boyfriend, his eyes taking in every inch of your face that he's already memorized, fully enchanted by your beauty. You whisper back “I love you.”

A wide grins spreads across cole's lips at the undeniable love in your eyes, this feeling . . . the warmth that spread throughout his whole body as he held you close, and the feeling of his beating heart in sync with yours was a feeling he never wanted to forget, a feeling he hoped to feel for the rest of his life. Cole slowly leaned his face closer to your, having a strong desire to feel your lips on his.

It was so close, your lips touching, but you quickly pulled back and turned your head towards the open bedroom door at the sound of Alfie barking. A loud laugh leaves your lips when Cole drops his forehead against your shoulder, a groan leaving his lips at the interruption. You scratch at the hair at his nape, causing him to rest his chin on you, looking up at you with a cute pout. You continue to laugh as you bring your other hand to softly bop his nose “Sounds like someone's hungry.”

Cole scrunches his nose at the ticklish touch and places a quick kiss to your clothed stomach before swiftly getting out of bed. You lean back on your elbows and bite your lip as you watch Cole walk out of your shared bedroom, turning to look back at you “He gets his impatience from you.”

You let out a dramatic gasp at your boyfriend's words, and you were quick to get out of the messy bed, chasing a giggling Cole through your hallway and into the kitchen. Another sweet morning with your two boys!

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( AHH MY FIRST COLE FIC 🤭 featuring the cutest Alfie !!! )

°. — taglist ( @cixrosie @toasttt11 @lovings4turn x )

#﹕─┈ 𝜗 roro's 1k celly 𝜚 #୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ. 𝓵atest release of 𝓻oro’s 𝔀orks #౨ৎ becca #cole caufield #cc22 #montreal canadiens #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield fluff #cole caufield imagine #Cole caufield x you #nhl blurb #nhl fluff #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey #habs #jack hughes

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gothghostiie · 5 months ago

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Ahhh so i totally meant to send this brain worm idea i have to you but i must have accidentally done it in someone else’s ask box 😭

but but anyways i desperately need to share at least one of the ideas i have bouncing around in my head and just

the 141 finding the smut reader has written about them, names are changed and all that, but character descriptions are dead on and as they read, each of them can remember being in one of these scenarios with her, but those didnt end quite like her writing does

They range from times Price and Ghost has been barking orders at her or even yelling at her for something that happened during an operation

Intel arguments with Kyle that usually end with both of them red in the face and cold stares and angry tension

Soap is usually the only playful one, only ever angry when reader slacks off or doesn’t pay attention to when HE finally gives orders

each little story more filthy than the last, detailed to every little sound and feeling

i am just ARF ARF

HELLO???? ANON????

you just know gaz and soap make plans to act a lil extra before they tell you they know

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rainforestakiie · 4 months ago

Text

hello! here is my new omega au! i do hope you like it! it is loosely based on aztec and mayan mythology, with other mythology added in to make an interesting story, i hope.

this was originally inspired by @lilacwriter07's ask where they wanted some more omega adamsapple, and they allowed me to be more creative! do not worry, lilacwriter07, your ask will be in this au! i have it already written out; i just want to get the 'back story' out first! expect part 02 in a day or so, then your ask!

ahhh! i really can't wait for everyone to read this and let me know what you think!

Promised Soul (Omegaverse Mythology AU) = Part 01. Part 02. Part 03. Part 04.

From a tender age, Adam knew he was unlike anyone else. His parents were breathtaking, with sculpted bodies and elegant frames. After their ash-fall, they had become even more radiant, effortlessly attracting admirers. Their skin was bronzed by the sun, their hair rich and thick like a lion's mane, and their eyes, large and glistening, held an otherworldly allure. They embodied beauty and fully embraced their heritage.

But Adam was different.

On the morning of his tenth birthday, Adam awoke with a peculiar excitement. A strange, burning sensation churned deep within his gut, coiling up into his chest. Lying beneath the lush red-and-green feathered blankets his grandmother had lovingly woven, his lips curled into a broad grin. Eagerly, he kicked the blankets aside, rolled off the bed's edge, and raced to the mirror. Practically bouncing on his pear-shaped feet, he twirled before the mirror, eyes wide with anticipation, searching for any telltale wisps of smoke rising from his skin—the first sign of the ash-fall. But there was nothing.

Adam's reflection stared back at him, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. Leaning closer to the glass, he tugged lightly at the soft padding of his cheek.

"I've gone grey," he whispered to himself, his voice tinged with disbelief. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

Straightening his young body, Adam twisted and turned, desperately trying to glimpse his form from every angle. There was no steam, no smoke, no ethereal transformation seeping through his flesh. No glittering specks of lava freckles adorned his skin—another sign of the ash-fall. Instead, he looked... burnt out.

"Why?" he muttered, a deep frown etching across his face as he took a step back. His shoulders sagged, arms falling limply at his sides. "Why am I...?"

The morning was spent in a frantic attempt to disguise his appearance. He wasn't meant to look like a fire that had sputtered out before ever truly igniting. Adam bundled himself in thick, oversized sweaters, a medical mask, and a woolly hat, gloves, and scarf to match. When his mother saw him, she laughed, trying to peel away the layers, but Adam resisted until his father intervened, scolding him. Apparently, it was dangerous to be wrapped up so tightly.

He would never forget the look on their faces when they finally saw him. The horror, the tears, the screams—they had cut him deeply. Before his tenth birthday, his parents had been loving and attentive, their days filled with family outings and warmth. But everything changed after that fateful day.

Adam became the family's failure—the one who couldn’t burn like his cousins. Even Elly, his younger cousin, had her ash-fall the following month. His mother had broken down in tears that day too. No matter what Adam did, it never seemed to bring a smile to his mother’s face or draw his father's gaze.

Was he truly such a disappointment?

By the time he turned eleven, when no one even bothered to acknowledge him, Adam had begun to wander away from the family fire. He ventured through the oversized, thick branches and towering trunks of the forest he called home—Eden, the forest of flames, nestled at the leftmost point of Pentagram City. All his life, Adam had been repeatedly warned never to leave Eden.

The world beyond was far too dangerous for someone as fragile as him; his flame would be easily extinguished, or worse, stronger and more terrifying creatures would snatch him away. His mother had always assured him that once he experienced his ash-fall, he would be free to explore the city like everyone else... but that day never came. He was weaker than anyone imagined, more delicate than they had feared, and now, no one would care if he disappeared. No one noticed as the little, scrawny ash boy slipped away from the gathering of families and neighbouring clans.

Sniffling, Adam inched forward, his flat, grey feet sliding over the warm, red bark of the thick branches. He moved cautiously, with the delicate care of someone who knew that a single misstep could be his last. He had no fiery wings to catch him if he fell. A broken bone would mean certain death, for no one would come to save him—he’d be left to perish alone.

Adam had heard stories of Pentagram City and the beings that lived within it. Pressing himself against the trunk of a flame tree, he peered into the quaint countryside just beyond Eden. Scattered across the landscape were large red rocks that gradually gave way to the more structured outlines of a city. Squinting, Adam spotted a towering temple at the city's heart. It appeared to be made of stone, but from this distance, he couldn’t be sure.

He could see little else from his vantage point. Adam knew that Pentagram City had five points, with Eden being one of them. The other four points housed powerful clans of other beings, and the closer they lived to the temple, the more numerous and lesser the creatures became.

According to what little he had heard, a god resided in that temple, but Adam knew nothing about the deity or its role in Pentagram City. Did this god rule the city? His curiosity gnawed at him as he continued to stare at the distant structure, hoping for a glimpse of something—anything—divine. But there was nothing.

Sighing deeply, Adam let his head fall against the tree, his eyes drooping with a deep, sorrowful frown. He knew he should return; if he stayed away too long, he’d be forgotten, and no food would be saved for an ugly bird like him. His lips trembled as the thought crossed his mind, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. A sob escaped his lips...but something cut through his cry.

Adam blinked in surprise, straightening as he rubbed his grey lips together. He glanced around, his heart racing. He could suddenly hear a strange sound.

Adam pursed his flat lips, tilting his head as he strained to catch the sound again. It was like singing—a soft, whistle-like tune, reminiscent of the birds that flitted among the branches of Eden. His wide eyes darted around the trees, scanning the fiery foliage for any sign of who—or what—was making that eerie melody. But the sound wasn’t coming from above, where the branches intertwined like a tangled web of flames. It was coming from below.

With cautious, tentative steps, Adam edged closer to the red branch's edge and peered down at the golden, knee-length grass that blanketed the ground far below. The grass shimmered under the harsh glare of the white sun, each blade sparkling like a thread of liquid gold in the light. He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. Would anyone notice—or even care—if he dared to climb down? They had always drummed it into him: never set foot on the ground until your wings had formed or at least until a few feathers had sprouted from your arms.

But then again, nobody would care. He was the disappointment, the one who would never fly.

Determined, Adam inched forward, but everything happened so fast. His vision blurred as his foot slipped, sending him tumbling down the bark of the giant tree. The flame trees were far from smooth; their surface was gnarled and blistering, scorching his skin as he skidded downward. His body scraped against the rough bark, his descent a painful blur, until he hit the ground with a sickening crack. His feet throbbed with pain, and he shakily inspected them—a bitter reminder that they were still soft and delicate, not the sharp talons his family bore with pride. His uncle's sneering words echoed in his mind: pathetic.

A gasp escaped Adam, his body aching all over, his arms limp and unresponsive. It took everything in him just to sit up, and when he did, tears flooded his eyes. His uncle’s jarring, smug voice rang in his ears, scolding him for being so foolish. No one would care—they would only find sick amusement in his accident.

A soft, strangled sob slipped from his lips, slow and tentative at first. His face crinkled, scrunching up as the overwhelming wave of sadness crashed down, twisting painfully in his chest until it finally burst forth. Adam let out another gasp, his sobs growing more desperate, his tears falling in a relentless stream over his ash-grey cheeks. He drew his knees up, wrapping his arms around them, and buried his face, sobbing into the crook of his arms.

Everything poured out of him—the disappointment of not burning from the inside like all the others before him, the sense of failure that gnawed at him every day. The way his mother looked at him now, with a hollow sadness that tore at his heart, and the way his father couldn’t even bear to glance in his direction. His cousins, aunts, and uncles, their cutting comments and cold stares. The way the elders had dismissed him, deeming him unworthy to be paired with another in the clan. Typically, the year after an ash-fall, the elders would pair them up, but Adam had been brushed aside, not even a consideration.

The more he cried, the harder it became to stop. He felt as though he might choke on his tears, as though the sadness would consume him entirely. Eden was quiet, the ever-burning inner flames of the trees casting a warm, flickering light around him, but it felt so distant, so cold.

“Why are you crying?” a sudden voice asked, cutting through the haze of his despair.

Adam’s breath hitched. He squirmed, peering up through tear-filled eyes at the figure standing over him, staring down with glassy red-and-gold eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out—only more tears.

The figure appeared to be young, about his age, perhaps eleven. They were shorter than Adam, which was surprising given that he was often teased for being small. The stranger let out a quiet sigh and carefully sat down beside him, not so close that their elbows would brush, but not so far that Adam felt completely alone.

Adam continued to cry, his sobs echoing softly in the golden grass. The stranger stayed with him, silent and still, their gaze fixed on the swaying blades that shimmered in the gentle breeze. After what felt like an eternity, the figure finally tilted their head toward Adam, extending a hand that hovered hesitantly above his trembling shoulders before finally resting there. They began to rub his back in small, slow circles.

“There, there,” they murmured, their voice flat, almost emotionless. “There, there, don’t cry.”

Adam continued to sob, his tears soaking into the earth as he curled into himself, trembling like a fragile leaf in the wind. The small hand resting on his back was oddly warm, a gentle contrast to the cold world around him. The warmth was even more surprising considering Adam’s lineage, his bloodline intertwined with the very essence of fire.

When his sobs didn’t subside, the mysterious figure beside him made a low, soothing sound deep in their throat. They shifted closer to Adam, their stiff hand continuing its rhythmic motion along his back. With a soft, deliberate motion, they straightened and tilted their head skyward, cherry-red lips parting ever so slightly. A familiar melody, one that Adam had heard before, slipped from their lips, echoing through the quiet streets of Eden, the flickering heart of Pentagram City. The stranger’s voice was enchanting, a gentle hum that filled the air with a comforting warmth, even in the darkest corners of the city.

Adam blinked through his tears, rubbing his hands over his tear-streaked face. Slowly, he lifted his head, his gaze wandering wearily around before settling on the figure beside him. He sniffled, trying to blink away the lingering sadness, as he watched the stranger sing softly, their voice wrapping around him like a tender embrace. For the first time, Adam felt a comfort so deep, it was as if the very air around him had transformed into a protective cocoon, holding him in a way he had never known.

The person beside him was unlike anyone Adam had ever seen in Eden. They seemed to belong to a different world entirely. Their skin was a pale, milky white, with a delicate flush of red framing their cheeks. Golden, fluffy curls crowned their head, with two tufts of hair playfully resembling horns. Their lips, full and stained a deep cherry red, contrasted strikingly with their mismatched eyes—one a gleaming gold, the other a deep crimson. Adam’s gaze drifted down their form, noticing the black and green claws adorned with rings of lush crimson feathers at their wrists. As he looked further, he saw green and red feathers peeking out before spilling around their hips, forming a long, soft-looking tail in place of feet. Scales of blue, red and white blended well into the tail.

“Do you feel better?” the stranger, now clearly a boy, asked, his voice soft and melodic.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes catching Adam’s. A mesmerizing array of green, blue, and purple scales shimmered across his neck, trailing up to his pointed ears, making him appear even more otherworldly and enchanting.

Adam’s breath caught in his throat, his heart stuttering in a way it never had before. He had never laid eyes on a creature so mesmerizing, so otherworldly. The boy was beautiful, ethereal in a way that made Adam’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. He quickly rubbed his face with both hands, trying to hide the flush that spread across his skin, and managed a weak, shaky smile.

“Yeah, um, who... what...” Adam’s voice faltered, his words stumbling as his mind raced to catch up. His brows knitted together in confusion. “I mean, what are you?”

The boy snorted softly, his long, colourful tail flicking to the side with a playful grace. His lips curved into a deeper frown, and for a fleeting moment, Adam glimpsed two sharp fangs peeking out from behind those cherry-red lips. “That’s a bit rude, don’t you think? Asking someone’s breed like that.”

“Oh!” Adam squeaked in horror, his eyes widening with panic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

But before Adam could finish his apology, a ghost of a smile twisted across the boy’s lips, and a low, rumbling laugh escaped him.

“I know. You’re just a baby,” he said, his tone gentle, almost teasing, as if Adam’s innocent curiosity amused him.

Adam blinked furiously, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, struggling to find the right words. The boy beside him tilted his head slightly, a sly smile playing on his lips as his gold and red eyes flickered across Adam’s face.

“I can tell you’ve never left your home before,” he mused, his voice smooth and knowing. “You’ve never seen anyone outside your clan, let alone someone like me. If you knew who you were talking to, you’d probably be beside yourself.”

“Huh?” Adam pouted, his confusion deepening. “Are you someone important, then?”

“Something like that,” the boy replied, rolling one glittering, scaled shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. Adam’s eyes immediately zoned in on the vibrant scales and feathers, captivated by their brilliance.

“Why were you crying?” the boy asked, his tone softening slightly.

Adam lowered his head, leaning back against the crimson bark of the tree behind him. “Because I’m a failure,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

The boy hummed thoughtfully; his head cocked to the side as if genuinely puzzled by Adam’s admission. His gold and ruby eyes half-lidded, slowly roving up and down Adam’s plain form. He clicked his tongue, revealing a long, serpent-like tongue that flickered between his lips. “Because you haven’t burned away like the others in your clan?” he asked, his tone curious rather than judgmental.

“You know about my family?” Adam asked, his curiosity piqued. How could this boy, who appeared younger than himself, know about his clan? Adam shook his head, his voice trembling as he continued, “I didn’t... I was supposed to transform last year, but I didn’t. I look... like this.”

Adam glared down at his powdery grey arms, turning them over with a disdainful frown. He loathed the sight of them, so dull and lifeless compared to the vibrant flames his kind was known for. Even the green in his eyes had faded to a milky white, making him feel like a shadow of what he was supposed to be. He understood why everyone made fun of him—he was ugly, unremarkable, and utterly forgettable.

“Nobody will ever want to mate with me,” he added, his voice thick with pain. His eyes began to water again as he spoke. “I’m ignored, pushed aside. Nobody wants to be my friend. My Ma and Pa can’t even look at me. I’m going to die alone. It won’t matter if I present as an Omega in the coming years. I’m undesirable. I didn’t burn. I didn’t turn to ash, and I certainly wasn’t reborn. I’m just... a fire that smothered itself before it could even burn.”

The boy was silent for a long moment, his blank gaze fixed on Adam. Finally, he spoke, his voice a soft hiss. “You will be an Omega?”

“Probably,” Adam replied, his tone hollow. “But it won’t matter to my elders. They haven’t even bothered to find me a match. I was supposed to have one this year so I could bond with them.”

Adam’s hands trembled as he spoke, his breath hitching painfully. His nose flared, and his lips quivered as the weight of his loneliness pressed down on him. Just as the first tear slipped down his grey cheek, the boy’s long, snake-like tongue darted out, licking it away. Adam jerked in surprise, his eyes widening as he looked at the beautiful boy beside him.

The boy’s black and green scaled claws gently wrapped around Adam’s hands, pulling them close to his face. He examined them intently, rubbing his claws along Adam’s fingers, pinching and turning them over as if searching for something hidden. His clawed hands then moved up Adam’s arms, seeming to probe for something unknown to Adam.

The boy’s golden and ruby eyes met Adam’s as his claws trailed over Adam’s shoulders and pressed down gently on his chest. A spark ignited in his eyes as he felt the steady beat of Adam’s heart beneath his touch.

“Just because you didn’t go through the ashfall doesn’t mean you are undesirable,” the boy said sternly, yet with a tender undercurrent to his words. “I don’t find you unpleasant to look at. In fact, I find you... interesting.”

“You do?” Adam whispered shyly, a shiver running up his spine at the boy’s words.

The boy nodded sharply, slithering closer. His beautiful tail flexed as he raised himself slightly above Adam, his face drawing nearer. “As for dying alone, I don’t believe that will happen.”

“How would you know? Nobody in my clan would want to bond with me,” Adam said shakily, his voice tinged with hopelessness.

“I never mentioned your clan,” the boy replied darkly, his eyes growing hooded and glassy. His long, serpentine tongue slithered through his lips once more, licking firmly down Adam’s cheek. “From this moment on, I will be your mate.”

Adam couldn’t speak, his mind practically short-circuiting. His skin prickled with sensation as his head tilted back, the boy beginning to rub his cheek against Adam’s in a possessive gesture, scenting him fully. Adam’s heart skipped a beat as he imagined returning to the nest with the boy’s scent on him. What would his family say? What would everyone think? But those thoughts melted away as the boy’s sweet, intoxicating scent filled Adam’s senses, wrapping around him like a warm blanket and making him relax.

“I think you’re a beautiful Phoenix, whether you have burned or not,” the boy purred softly, nuzzling into the crook of Adam’s neck.

“I’m Adam!” the unburned Phoenix blurted out, the words slipping past his lips before he could think. “What’s your name?”

The boy chuckled, pulling back to look Adam in the eye. For the first time, Adam saw a true smile on his lips, his mismatched eyes growing tender with emotion.

“Don’t forget your mate’s name. My name is—”

Then, as if caught in a dream, the gorgeous boy’s voice began to fade, dissolving into a soft, melodic hum that barely reached Adam's ears. The words, the name, everything slipped away like sand through his fingers. Adam remained seated there, at the very edge of Eden, as the world around him blurred, the sharp edges of reality growing hazy and distant. He blinked once, then twice, his gaze drifting in bewilderment as confusion clouded his mind. A deep groan escaped him, and he pressed a trembling hand to his temple, trying to make sense of what was happening.

But in the next breath, everything shifted. The vibrant colours and strange warmth of the encounter melted away, and Adam found himself waking up in his bed, nestled within one of the intersection buildings of Pentagram City. The familiar surroundings of his room greeted him, though the memory of the boy and that strange, fleeting connection lingered like a fading whisper in the corners of his mind.

The blaring shriek of his alarm clock sliced through Adam's skull like a jagged knife, but he didn't rush to silence it. Instead, he lingered in the moment, his pale, almost ghostly eyes fixed on the worn and cracked ceiling above him. Time seemed to stretch as he allowed his body to awaken slowly, letting the dull hum of the city seep into his consciousness. The buzz of distant traffic and the occasional honk gradually filtered through his fogged senses. Finally, with a languid roll, he turned to his side and slammed his hand down on the alarm clock, the sharp sound abruptly cut off. A low groan escaped his lips as he pushed himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. His tousled brown hair stuck out in wild directions, and a sheen of sweat clung to his clammy skin. He was naked, tangled in a cocoon of blankets, quilts, pillows, and sheets—the softest of his belongings—some of which even included his old hoodies and sweaters, adding to the haphazard nest of comfort surrounding him.

Adam groaned again, raising his arms above his head as he stretched, his spine crackling with the motion. He dragged a weary hand across his face, releasing a heavy sigh just as the brief silence was shattered by the blaring music from above. The familiar sound brought with it the knowledge that his neighbours were at it again—lovers wrapped in their passionate dance, the Omega upstairs a notorious screamer, their cries cutting through the walls even with the music attempting to drown them out.

Grunting in irritation, Adam swung himself out of bed and trudged towards his ancient chest of drawers, their surface as battered and worn as everything else in his room. He kicked aside a few pillows and sheets that cluttered his path and yanked open the top drawer. Inside, a pink and white box sat waiting. He pulled out a slender stick from within and slipped it into his mouth, holding it beneath his tongue. He knew it would take ten minutes to work, though he could have shortened the time by using his Omega-Hood privileges, but Adam wasn’t about to take the easy way out.

His tired eyes, heavy with a burden that seemed older than his years, found his reflection in the cracked mirror propped on top of the drawers. The fissure ran down the left side, spider-webbing across the surface, distorting his already grim visage. Adam stared at himself, a grunt rumbling in his chest. Nothing had changed in the passing years; his skin remained ashen, his eyes still a lifeless grey, and his hair, brittle and dull, like leaves about to crumble in the wind. Beauty had eluded him, like the sun had missed him entirely while showering its warmth on the newborn Phoenix eggs.

His gaze drifted to the old, tattered calendar taped back together and hanging limply on the wall. His eyes were immediately drawn to the red mark on today's date, a small but significant reminder.

"Officially, I'm twenty," he murmured, pulling the stick from his mouth and holding it up to the dim light filtering through his dirty window. The glass was so filthy that even if it were the brightest, sunniest day, the view outside would still seem drab and lifeless.

The stick revealed four little green lines, and Adam let out a sigh of relief. "Perfect. My heat's over."

He tossed the stick into the trash bin with a flick of his wrist and turned his attention back to the remnants of his nest. He had already begun dismantling it, pillows and sheets scattered carelessly from his restless sleep. It looked forlorn and abandoned now, a poor excuse for what a Phoenix nest was supposed to be. His mother, may her soul rest in peace, would surely be turning in her grave at the sight of it. Adam couldn't help but feel the weight of her disapproval, even from beyond.

Ruffling his sweat-dampened hair, Adam felt the burn in his arms and legs as he began the tedious task of cleaning up after his heat. Each movement was a reminder of the exhaustion that still clung to his bones, but he pressed on, gathering up the nest he had meticulously built. Quilts, blankets, and pillows—all the soft, comforting things he had surrounded himself with—were tossed into the laundry basket, destined for a much-needed wash later today. The bed was next, stripped of its sheets with a practiced efficiency. He unclipped the Omega mattress protector, scrunching it into a ball before shoving it into a trash bag, another item to discard when he had the strength to face the world outside his small flat.

The air was thick with the remnants of his heat, a musky scent that clung stubbornly to the walls and furniture. Adam grabbed the air freshener, spraying it liberally around the cramped space, as if trying to erase every trace of the past week. He threw open the small, barely functional windows, letting the stale air escape, carried away by the weak breeze that drifted in from the city.

By the time he was done, the clock was inching towards noon, and the mated pair upstairs were still lost in their passionate tangle. The Omega’s moans and whimpers echoed through the thin ceiling, a constant reminder of what Adam had yet to experience. He found the Omega undeniably cute, with a charm that tugged at something deep inside him, but no matter how attractive he found them, the endless stream of exotic cries grated on his nerves. It was hard to ignore, and harder still to find any solace in it.

Eager to wash away the remnants of his heat, Adam stepped into his tiny, run-down shower. The water, predictably cold, cascaded over his body, but he didn’t mind. The chill was invigorating, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat that had consumed him for days. He scrubbed his skin, rough and thorough, determined to rid himself of the sweat and Omega fluids that clung to him like an unwanted second skin. He twisted and arched his back, trying to work out the knots that had formed during his restless sleep. The cheap soap and shampoo did little to soothe his senses, but it was enough to make him feel somewhat human again.

Stepping out, Adam shivered as the cold air hit his damp skin, but he knew it wouldn’t last. Even as an unburned Phoenix, the flame within his chest would soon chase away the chill, warming him from the inside out. His eyes caught his reflection in the mirror again, and a grimace tugged at his lips. He looked like a drowned rat, his hair plastered to his face in wet, lifeless strands, the same dull, powdery grey that never seemed to change.

But as always, after his heat, his hands drifted to his chest, pressing against the spot where his Phoenix flame resided. A shudder rippled through him, his entire body prickling with the memory of a boy who had once promised to mate him. The boy had touched him there, right over the flame, as if to reassure himself that it was still burning inside Adam, still waiting for the day it would ignite into something more.

A sigh escaped Adam's lips, the sound heavy with the weight of unspoken longing and unfulfilled promises.

The boy had vowed to mate with Adam when they both came of age, promising that Adam would never have to 'die alone' as he had always feared. Adam had been utterly captivated, lost in the daze of the boy’s pheromones that clung to him like a second skin for a full six months before they finally faded away. When Adam returned home that evening, his clan had been mildly surprised by the unusual scent lingering on him, but when the boy failed to make another appearance, they dismissed it as a fleeting act of pity. A moment of kindness from someone who, perhaps, simply felt sorry for him.

It was a thought that haunted Adam daily. Had the boy truly only felt sorry for him? The exchange of scents, though powerful, was harmless before the age of eighteen, a promise that only became permanent with the passage into adulthood. But the boy had never returned, not even when Adam crossed that crucial threshold into his eighteenth year. Eventually, the hope that had once flickered so brightly inside him dimmed until it was nothing more than a dying ember. It had been a lovely dream, a beautiful fantasy.

But Adam would never forget the boy. He had been mesmerizing, almost otherworldly. Adam had always believed the boy to be a young Naga, certain of it because of the serpentine tongue, the sharp fangs, and the tail that marked his kind. But after leaving Eden on his eighteenth birthday—driven by a desperate need to escape the suffocating presence of his family—Adam had encountered countless Nagas. Some were nearly as beautiful as the boy, but they all shared the same dark, muted colours: deep emeralds, midnight blues, and such dark reds that they bordered on black. Not one of them had the vibrant, luminous hues that the boy possessed. Nor did they bear a single feather.

This discrepancy troubled Adam deeply. He had scoured the ancient tomes in Pentagram City’s library, searching through histories and bestiaries, trying to identify what breed the boy might have been, but the answer remained elusive. The few times he had been brave enough to describe the boy to someone else, they had looked at him as though he had lost his mind. The disbelief in their eyes stung, and eventually, Adam stopped speaking about the mystery boy altogether. He forced himself to write it off as a fleeting encounter with a kind stranger who had noticed a child’s tears and acted on a momentary impulse.

Even so, the memory lingered, like a thorn embedded too deep to remove without drawing blood. The boy’s ethereal beauty, his enchanting presence, where things Adam could never fully let go of, no matter how much he tried to convince himself it was all just a dream.

Shaking off the lingering thoughts, Adam hurried out of his cramped bathroom and began dressing in clean clothes. He glanced at the overflowing laundry basket and groaned deeply. He hated this part—washing everything after his heat was not only a tedious chore but also an expensive one. It would cost him nearly fifty marrows, almost half of his paycheck, a price that weighed heavily on him. But he had no choice. He needed those fabrics, especially with summer approaching. If he went back into heat without them, it would be disastrous.

Dressed in an oversized green and red sweater that reminded him of the mystery boy’s feathers, and a pair of worn leggings, Adam grabbed the laundry basket with a firm grip and left his flat. He walked briskly, hoping to avoid running into the persistent Minotaur Alpha who prowled the apartment building. The Alpha had pursued Adam relentlessly, ignoring every rejection. His advances were aggressive, his intentions clear, but Adam knew better than to fall for the ploys of someone who only saw him as a conquest.

As an untouched Omega, Adam naturally emitted a scent that drew potential mates, especially other Omegas. Unfortunately, it mostly attracted the wrong kind—lowlifes who didn’t care about his failed Phoenix status. Respectful Alphas, Omegas, or even Betas wouldn’t approach someone like him. They knew better.

Relief washed over him as he entered the building’s laundry room and found it blessedly empty. Not even another Omega was using the machines. Perfect. This meant he could finish quickly and get back to the safety of his flat. He chose the washing machine in the farthest corner, placing his basket on top of the worn, cream-pink dispenser box, and then turned to survey the Omega laundry products.

There were countless options, each one more expensive than the last. Omegas required their fabrics to be soft, cuddly, and soothing to their sensitive skin, but this necessity came at a painful cost. Times like these made Adam wish he had presented as a regular Beta instead. As he scanned the shelves, his lips twisted into a frustrated pout. He clicked a few buttons on the dispenser, scrolling through strips of powders, washing cubes, and other options until he finally reached the heat detergent.

His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the updated price, disbelief flooding his system.

"They raised the price again?" he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. His fingers twitched as he pulled out his battered wallet, prying it open to count his meagre supply of marrows. "I can afford it... but it's going to make things tight until my next pay check..."

With a resigned sigh, Adam slipped the necessary marrows into the slot. The price was almost three-quarters of his pay, leaving him with barely enough to survive. He would have to go without food for a few days, but this was a non-negotiable expense. If he didn't wash his things, he wouldn't be able to face another heat, let alone the encroaching winter.

Reluctantly, Adam fed the shards of bone marrow into the machine and began the laborious task of washing the fabrics that had formed his nest. It took a few hours, each minute dragging by as he waited for the cycle to complete. Once finished, he practically ran back to his flat, the weight of his cleaned belongings both a comfort and a reminder of the price he had paid.

~#~

The air in Pentagram City hung dry and brittle, a result of the relentless drought that preceded the looming summer. Unlike the rest of the world, their seasons defied reason—twelve months without a drop of rain, only to be drenched by a year's worth of torrential downpours over two relentless months. Beneath the city's surface, a labyrinth of ancient tunnels crisscrossed, designed to collect and distribute this precious deluge throughout the city. Or so they claimed. But the truth behind Pentagram City's water supply held darker secrets.

Adam’s gaze was drawn irresistibly to the temple at the city’s heart, a monolithic structure that dominated the landscape, casting a permanent shadow over the five points of the city. It was an ominous sentinel, its presence forbidding and absolute. No one dared approach the temple. The stones that formed its foundation were hallowed, forbidden to be tread upon by any living soul. The city’s construction ended abruptly in the temple’s vicinity, leaving a barren expanse marked by ancient altars and crumbling pillars—sacrificial grounds that held the weight of centuries-old rituals.

Adam swallowed hard as he stood at the very edge of the city’s bounds, staring into the desolate expanse of the sacrificial lands. Though he had never witnessed a sacrifice, the grim tales and ironclad rules had been seared into his consciousness, an unshakeable knowledge that permeated every citizen's bone and blood. The time for a sacrificial offering was fast approaching, an event anticipated by every inhabitant of the city with a mix of dread and resignation. No one knew who would be chosen, but the offering was essential, a grim necessity to appease the ruler—the unseen protector of Pentagram City. A pact had been forged between the temple and the city’s founders centuries ago, a contract written in blood and shadow.

Adam bit his bottom lip, turning away from the looming temple. His gaze shifted to the stone statues that lined the boundary walls, their presence a silent warning to all who might dare to trespass into the sacrificial lands. The statues varied in form—some were massive, hulking figures with jagged edges, while others were small, smooth, and eerily delicate. The memory of the first time he had seen them remained vivid; a moment of sheer terror etched permanently into his mind.

The first time Adam had laid eyes on the God that watched over Pentagram City—the ancient protector who demanded sacrificial blood in exchange for life-giving water—he had nearly fainted. The memory of that moment still haunted him, a visceral experience that defied explanation. When he saw the statue, it was as though the earth had trembled beneath him, his vision blurring as a wave of fear and awe coursed through him.

And yet, as always, Adam found himself drawn to the carved effigy, like a moth helplessly circling a flame. A dull ache burned in his chest, and an elusive pressure gnawed at the edges of his mind, just beyond his grasp. The God of Pentagram City was a force unlike any other, a being so powerful that the temple had sprung into existence by mere thought alone. Crafted from massive stones of gold, ruby, and black, the temple was adorned with seven hidden emeralds beneath its foundation and seven more atop its spires. Legend held that the stones beneath connected to the world beneath the sea, where creation itself was born and where it would inevitably end. The stones above were said to channel the light of the heavens. Their God, a serpent-like entity, could move effortlessly between these realms, bringing with it waves of unnatural energy that pulsed through the city.

The God’s form was a blend of the serpentine and the divine—a colossal snake with wings lining its back, a face somewhere between a dragon’s and a bird’s. Feathers carved from stone trailed down its head, looping up its immense wings and down its tail, which ended in twin rattles. The underbelly was a shield of impenetrable scales. Though countless paintings and toys depicted the God’s likeness, none truly captured its terrifying presence. It had been over ten thousand years since the last blood sacrifice, but the signs were clear. The city was drier than ever, and the skies refused to yield rain. The God’s return was imminent, and with it, the cycle of sacrifices would begin anew. Only when the quota was met would the serpent God spread its wings and allow the rains to fall again, ensuring Pentagram City’s protection for another era.

Adam raised a hand, tentatively reaching toward one of the six feathered wings carved into the stone. This was why people thought he was mad. The mysterious boy who had once vowed to mate with him had a striking resemblance to their God—a likeness that seemed impossible. The God was not a mere boy, and it certainly had six wings. Adam’s mother had been furious when he refused to admit he had invented the boy, but he hadn’t! The boy was real. But Adam’s stubborn belief had only brought shame upon his family, leading his mother to commit an unforgivable act.

“What are you doing?” a sharp voice cut through his thoughts.

Adam recoiled, his hand snapping back as if stung by the very air. His cheeks burned with a deep, humiliating flush, his fingers twisting together in a desperate attempt to contain his nerves. He forced a wide, exaggerated grin onto his face, though it wavered at the edges, barely masking his unease as the figure approached. “Nothing! Just admiring our lord and saviour!” he blurted, the words tumbling out too fast, too forced.

Lilith’s gaze was as sharp as a blade, slicing through his facade with terrifying ease. “I’ve told you never to touch those,” she hissed, her voice cold and unforgiving. The intensity of her glare made Adam instinctively step back, his bravado crumbling. “This isn’t just about your twisted obsession with our Deity. No one is allowed to touch the statues of Quetzalcoatl.”

Adam’s eyes flicked to the statues, their stone faces impassive, indifferent to his suffering. A heavy sigh escaped him, his shoulders slumping as he wilted under Lilith’s icy disapproval. The guards stationed nearby seemed to close in, their presence suffocating. They were there to ensure that no one, not even a fool like Adam, would defile the sacred ground. The punishment for such a transgression was brutal, swift—beheading by the very guards who now watched him with thinly veiled contempt.

Lilith’s voice cut through the tense air, her frustration palpable. “I’m tired of turning a blind eye,” she growled, her tone low and dangerous. “Our past can only shield you for so long, Adam. One day, someone else will be on duty, and they won’t hesitate to take your head off.”

Desperation clawed at Adam, and he forced a teasing smile onto his face, though it felt more like a grimace. “Have I mentioned how sexy you are when you’re angry?” he quipped, his voice strained, pleading for a reaction that would soften the moment.

Lilith’s expression twisted in disgust. “Not even in your nightmares,” she spat, her words like poison.

Adam flinched but pushed forward, clinging to the hope that something, anything, could pierce her icy exterior. “Why not?” he asked, his voice trembling with the weight of his hope.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lilith replied, her tone colder than ever. Her icy-blue eyes raked over him, each glance a cut. “Who would ever consider dating a burnout like you? You’re not even a real Phoenix.”

The words struck him like a physical blow, but Adam forced himself to keep smiling. He fumbled in his pocket, his hands shaking, and pulled out a small, sparkling stone. “I found something for you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It reminded me of you.”

Lilith’s gaze hardened as she stared at the stone, her lips curling into a sneer. “I don’t want it. Why would I ever want something as tacky as that?”

Adam’s hand trembled violently now as he looked down at the stone, once so beautiful in his eyes. “I thought it was stunning,” he murmured, his voice hollow.

“It’s ugly,” Lilith snapped, her tone biting. “How many times do I have to tell you? I would never be interested in someone like you. I would never want you as my Omega. You’re pathetic, Adam. The other guards laugh at you every time they see you hanging around here, clinging to some delusion that I’d ever want to court you.”

Adam’s breath caught in his throat, his vision blurring as he glanced back at the stone still in his hand. His arm, outstretched, felt frozen in time, a painful reminder of his foolish hopes. The whispers and sneers of the guards behind him echoed in his ears, a cruel chorus of his failure.

Lilith’s expression twisted into something darker as she snatched the stone from his hand, her nails scraping painfully against his skin. She held it up, barely glancing at it before locking her icy-blue eyes onto his. “This,” she hissed, her voice dripping with disdain, “is a terrible courting gift. If you were serious about trying to court me—which is laughable, by the way—this wouldn’t even scratch the surface of what’s required for the mating ritual. You’re the laughingstock of Pentagram City, Adam.”

“I-I…” Adam stammered, his heart constricting as Lilith carelessly tossed the stone over the wall of statues. It vanished in an instant, out of reach, gone forever.

Lilith’s patience snapped as she bared her fangs at him, stepping forward with a predatory grace. Her Alpha pheromones filled the air, suffocating him, forcing him to stumble back. “You can’t even handle a fully grown Alpha’s pheromones,” she snarled, her voice a low growl. “How could you ever hope to satisfy someone like me? And what’s worse, you’re not even a full Phoenix, Adam. There’s no passion in you, no true flame. You’re burnt out before you’ve even had a chance to ignite.”

Adam’s breath hitched, his world spinning as her words carved into him, each one leaving a deep, festering wound.

“We would never have worked,” Lilith continued, her voice unyielding. “I deserve better. So much better than… whatever you are.” With a sharp, decisive movement, she slammed her spear into the ground, the sound reverberating through the tense air. Her icy-blue eyes bore into him, and when Adam finally broke, bowing his head in submission, she relented with a sigh, almost rolling her eyes as she pressed her fingertips to her forehead.

“Adam, I get it,” she said, her voice softening slightly, but the damage was done. “I understand why you’re clinging to me. When we were children, I was your only friend, the only one who showed you kindness. I know how that must have seemed to you.”

Lilith paused, her expression hardening as if she were chiseling Adam’s fate in stone. “But you must accept it was a mistake, a misunderstanding. There’s nothing here for you, Adam. Nothing but pain.”

“We could never coexist together. Never. We are too different.” She clicked her tongue and took a step back, straightening her lean, sturdy form. Her body was a study in contrasts, her small waist giving way to thick, powerful hips and thighs that hinted at her lethal strength. Her chest was well-formed, her long golden hair streaked with black and grey that framed her face before fading back into gold. She was every inch the warrior, her beauty a deceptive mask for the predator beneath. “Maybe, if you had successfully burned as a Phoenix, there might have been a slim possibility. But since you haven’t, there is none at all. Absolutely nothing. We are far too different, and I am expected to birth strong offspring. My children are destined to continue the line of guardians for Quetzalcoatl’s temple.”

Her eyes locked onto Adam’s once more, and this time, he could see the sharp black slits within them, smaller blue eyes nestled within her primary ones, giving her a monstrous, otherworldly appearance. “Any offspring of yours would only bring shame and dishonor to my clan. Any children you produced with me would die the moment they left the nest, and I cannot bring such a curse upon my people.”

Adam swallowed hard, his lips trembling as he forced them into a tight, thin line. He nodded sharply, the truth of her words cutting deep. Lilith’s lineage was one of power, a female-only breed brought to life by Quetzalcoatl’s own webbing. They were guardians, trained from birth to fight and kill any who threatened their sacred charge. Adam had never seen Lilith’s true form, but he had glimpsed the warriors of Jorōgumo—deadly, alluring creatures who could transform from innocent beauty into deadly predator in the blink of an eye. They lured the unsuspecting with sweetness, only to devour them whole.

As a child, Adam had believed that Lilith cared for him, at least a little. She had never tried to devour him, never tried to ensnare him in her web like so many of her sisters and kin would have done to their ‘friends.’ She had been dismissive, yes, but she had also spent countless hours with him after he began venturing outside Eden. She had never once tried to lure him with sweet words or false promises, never tried to trick him into her web to be consumed. Adam had taken it as a sign that he was special, that their connection was special. But now, as her words sank in, he realized the truth: Lilith’s indifference was not a mark of affection, but of disinterest.

A true sign of love among the Jorōgumo was to be devoured after mating, to become sustenance for the next generation.

“I’m sorry,” Adam whispered weakly, the words barely audible over the roar of his own despair.

Lilith scoffed, her grip tightening around her spear. “Don’t be sorry. Just leave me alone. You’ve never been worth anything to me, let alone as a mate. Get your head out of the clouds.”

Adam nodded, a slow, defeated motion. He had hoped, perhaps against reason, that she might say something more, that there might be some spark of tenderness, however small. But Lilith’s icy-blue eyes remained fixed on him, glaring with a finality that chilled him to the bone. Realizing she had finished with him, that she needed him to leave, Adam offered a sheepish smile, his last shred of dignity, before scrambling past her and fleeing toward the city.

His eyes flickered to the other Jorōgumo women watching him, each one a vision of lethal beauty with golden and red curls framing faces of icy-blue indifference. Their gazes trailed after him, uninterested, as they began to whisper amongst themselves. He could feel their mocking laughter, even though they barely acknowledged his existence.

“I’m not gonna cry,” Adam muttered to himself, his voice breaking as he forced his legs to move faster. “I’m not gonna cry.”

But the pain clawed at him, a raw wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding. The Jorōgumo were a dominant breed, their ranks filled with Alphas and few Omegas. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t disguise themselves as an Omega to lure their prey. It hurt more than he could bear to know that Lilith, the one he had foolishly hoped might see something in him, viewed him as nothing more than a speck of dirt on her perfectly polished boot.

“It hurts,” he whispered, his breath hitching as he ran, the snickers of the Jorōgumo echoing in his mind. “It hurts so much.”

“I’m not gonna cry,” he repeated, the mantra hollow and meaningless as the tears he refused to shed stung his eyes.

“I’m gonna die alone.”

#hazbin hotel #fanfic #adamsapple #lucifer x adam #au #guitarduck #a03 #fanficiton #omega x omega #omega adam #omega lucifer #omegaverse #omega pair #aztec mythology #aztec gods #losely based on Aztec mythology #promised souls

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laura1633 · 9 months ago

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Your Charles in Max's lap is so cuteeeeee! 🥹 sometimes I can't help thinking that Jimmy and Sassy might think Charles is their fellow feline because all of them have brown fluffy hair/fur and green eyes but idk whether Jimmy and Sassy will love or hate Charles. Love him because he's our fellows! Or hate him because why daddy let that big kitty sleeps on his bed and eats human food! Or even pity him because why daddy makes Charlie whine and scream so much ;(

Since Charles just wanna be in Max's lap as much as his cats, I'd love to read Charles with cat ear headband that makes Max thinks that, for the first time in his life, he wanna fuck a kitty. His kitty. If you're okay with that ofc 🥹

Ahhh anon I am so sorry for the delay in responding but I hope you see this because this made me laugh and smile like crazy - I think I read the line ‘why daddy makes Charlie whine and scream so much’ like a million times!!’ honestly it was the highlight of my whole week!

To be honest I wasn’t sure how to write this one at all but I have given it a go because your message made me smile so much. It's only short but drabble below

“What are you wearing?” Max studies Charles curiously.

“You don’t like them?” Charles grins and re-adjusts the little kitten ear headband he picked up at the store. It really was too cute to leave behind especially because Max is always calling him his third kitty. Charles didn’t understand the comparison at first but the more time he spends in Max’s apartment the more he realises that there are some striking similarities between himself and the home’s other resident felines. Charles sometimes makes a soft little happy rumbling sound similar to a purr and he is constantly clambering on top of his boyfriend desperate for attention. Plus as much as Charles would like to deny it he does get awfully whiny when he is hungry. He’s come to accept that he is rather cat like, in fact it’s probably the reason Max loves him so much.

“They’re cute” Max laughs, Charles actually looks rather adorable with the tiny little ears perched on top of his fluffy hair and his big beautiful eyes staring excitedly.

The Dutchman watches in fascination as his boyfriend sets the shopping bags down and then gets on to his hands and knees.

“What are you…? “ Max’s words trail off and his brain short circuits momentarily as Charles starts slowly crawling towards him seductively, his movements almost cat-like in their elegance.

“Don’t you want to pet me?” Charles teases as he climbs up on to his boyfriend’s lap and starts head butting and nuzzling against his neck. It’s meant to be a joke except Charles feels Max shift beneath him and realises his boyfriend is getting turned on. The Monegasque flicks out his tongue and laps up Max’s neck before going in with some smaller kitten licks.

“Charles” Max’s breath shudders out of him as he feels a warm tongue behind his ear, “I …”

“You going to make me purr?” Charles coos. For a joke purchase the little headband is working wonders on Max, Charles is half inclined to go back and get the tail to match.

“Baby I …” Max groans as Charles grinds down against him, “You look good”

“You want to play with your kitty?” Charles’ heart pounds against his ribcage as he feels Max getting harder beneath him. The Dutchman is also breathing much heavier now, his ragged inhales and exhales making his chest swell over and over.

“Yes” Max admits as he grips his hands into Charles’ waist. He’s got no idea why it’s turning him on so much but he’s chasing out Charles’ lips and kissing him desperately.

Charles gives him what he wants at first. Kisses him back with just as much enthusiasm but as the Monegasque pulls away and starts to tease Max gets to his feet and hauls Charles up in his arms - it's pretty much what he would do with any misbehaving cat, except he has rather different intentions towards this particularly kitty.

Charles squeals as Max carries him through to the bedroom and places him down on the bed. The Monegasque lifts his hips and lets his boyfriend rip him out of his clothes, everything except for the headband of course.

“You’re so pretty” Max hums as he strokes his hands over Charles’ body and smiles at how cute his boyfriend looks all rosy faced and with two little pointy cat ears. Charles mewls at the touch and pulls Max back down over him, this time nipping and nosing up his boyfriend’s neck as he gets impatient for more.

Max laughs against him but gives up control almost instantly and starts to open Charles up, pressing his fingers into his boyfriend until he is stretched out nicely. It doesn’t really take too long, it’s offseason so they’ve been pretty much at it all hours of they day. Charles finds it a lot more fun to bottom when he knows he hasn’t got to jump straight in an F1 car afterwards.

“Please - “ the Monegasque keens and starts pawing at his boyfriend once he’s ready, his little grabby hands reaching out over and over and trying to divert attention to where he wants it next.

“My pretty little kitty” Max hums as he leans in and peppers Charles’ jaw with kisses. The Monegasque spreads his legs wide so Max can line up easily but as Max pushes in Charles hisses loudly.

The initial stretch is worth it though and Charles’ hissing soon melts into happy little whimpers and whines as Max starts fucking him. It’s slow at first, gentle, almost reverent. Max’s hands skate over Charles’ body and stroke through his hair.

As Charles gets more desperate he starts arching his back and scratching down his boyfriend’s body, his nails leaving red marks against the skin. Max seems to get the hint though, the Dutchman doing exactly as told and picking up the pace until they are both moaning against each other.

Max mouths at Charles’ neck and thrusts deep inside him as he comes, the Dutchman groaning loudly and desperately reaching out to stroke Charles to orgasm second later.

“Fuck, that was…” Max eases himself of out Charles and drops down on to the bed next to him, “Different. That was different”

Charles can’t help but giggle, he thought his latest purchase would get him a round of laughter not Max heatedly ripping his clothes off of him. The Monegasque keeps his little ears on as he does the other very cat like thing he likes to do and curls his body around his boyfriend so they can take a little cat nap together.

#lestappen fanfiction #anon asks #Lestappen

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arsonlookers · 8 months ago

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Yandere Childe! [2] [suggestive]

Yandere Childe! who loves to be bound by something by you a kink of his. he just loves the idea that you are straining him, wrapping rope or something to stop him from attacking[pounding] you. [sexually]

"ms~ you really look sexy in your outfit right now~ are you seducing me~ I mean if you could just take this off me right now ~mmm~ I can help satisfy you to your heart's content baby~"

You glared at him "Stop it patient 01" as You took your clipboard from your table and started to scan the things you needed to do in this session.

"hmmm~ I mean ms. sexy~ don't call me that hmm~ you know my name call me by my name hmm~ with that sexy mouth of yours sexy~" he keeps seducing you with those dead and obsessed eyes of his as he stares at you sitting 5 feet away from him you are just this close to him if only he can just rip this bounds and have you in his arms.

"y/n~ " he calls with a raspy teasing sound his voice wants to catch your attention.

His teasing keeps continuing trough out the whole session, and You are just barely holding everything in as he keeps sexualizing you and even says out loud his intrusive thoughts and sexual dreams for you.

Can you blame him? You are just too sexy to bend and he imagines how you sound like when being stuffed you know~ so shamelessly even moaning in the middle of the session just to keep his wild imaginations of you in his mind not with the bored talk about this about who.

and when you calls him out for it he would just reply with "Hmmm~ that pitch is so perfect y/n~ but how would It sound like when being breathy and ahhh~ just non-stop incoherent calling of my name? AUUHhh~ just imagining it makes me want to just take you here right now~" A cold and passionate stare is all he can give towards your direction it is so full of passion and so full~ of obsession residing inside that ocean blue eyes of his.

"I wanna fuck you up sooooo~ BAddddd~ " He said with his alluring deep raspy voice but still does sound cheerful.

Not only that as if trying to lure you in the ocean like a siren wanting its claim on you. His ocean-deep blue eyes are so enchanting and so pulling as if like a dark abyss no light no hint of kindness to it but so addictive, so~ passionate to just look at ... like a forbidden fruit wanted to be eaten by you and only YOU.

As you stare deeper all you can think is how TEMPTING his offer is...his fantasies do sound sooo tempting.. but as strong as your resolve you did not fall for it and just tried to distract yourself from other matters in your clipboard

whines from being ignored* "nnngggggg~ stop ignoring meee~ y/n cant you see how hard I am right nowww~ stop ignoringgg my needddsss~ pleasee~" he sounds so submissive and desperate to be fucked by you just the idea of it makes him want to do more

"How about can you just kiss me at least~? or better yett~ suck off my dick~" He mischievously offers a tempting deal

"i won't touch you~ I promised I mean Im already bound just ahhh~ take the restrains of my dick pleasee~"

His whines just keep going non-stop on the whole session but not one bit of you listen to his tempting ideas of making you his or making you want HIM~

"Thats all" in your professional voice

"you will be backed to your room escorted by the guards " You turn your whole body around trying to look at him any further

he whines more "y/n pleasee~ sexyy~ dont leave mee~ I want to hear more of you~ I want to just use that mouth of yours... Mark it As MINE~" obviously too drunk by your voice and how he just wants to USe your lovely mouth and throat to his pleasure until you have no voice anymore

He keeps imagining a 69 position with you would be SOoooo~ awesome ~ I mean remember how he loves your Thigh? Oh please he will lovingly suffocate himself against them~

and the thought of you sucking him off SOo hard is just making him wanna cum so badly right now.

If not that~ then being tied up by you and just nonstop teasing him is also ok~ he loves everything you can do to him even if it means putting injection in him and just fucking is All ready makes him want to do it NOW

he is desperate

after all he knows that there are pest who are into you except him and these pests are always lurking in the darkness to just take you for themselves and own your whole being to them.

And just the idea of it is making him so MAD so pissed off that he just wants to kills everybody in this building except you just to make sure that YOU are HIS and HIS ALONE

no other man or woman can take you away, not your attention, not your eyes, and absolutely not your LOve~

And he will make sure of it even if he is against the very head of this Asylum [dr.zhongli] who is now planning to dispose of him.

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littlelovelyra · 2 months ago

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Of Chains and Crows

Chapter 1/?: "Little Crow"

Word Count: ~ 1,800

Minors DNI - 18+

ao3 if you prefer

Female Rook (named) x Lucanis

Summary: After an almost shared kiss, Lucanis loses his self control and indulges in one night of passion.

Notes: This is a bit of a re-imagining for Lucanis' romance - I'm still finding my footing with this pairing and there will be some moments of pining and angst after this chapter coz things with Spite will get complicated in my story :) Also this was written quite fast as I write on my lunch breaks haha so please excuse any errors or if things feel rushed etc

______________________________

Lucanis:

Mia de Riva was captivating, and it wasn’t just her looks that snatched your attention, no, her effortless form in combat while fighting alongside you had magnificent beauty. Finding someone who complimented your blade craft was hard to come by, yet she fit perfectly. It was as if the gods made her just for you.

Since the first moment you saw her when she rescued you from the Ossuary, her presence has nestled comfortably in your mind, much to Spite’s disgust, and now the yearning has grown stronger each day. How you wish you could weave your fingers through her soft curls while you whisper sweet nothings against her skin; the thought alone sends a blaze of desire coursing through you. “Mierda. You need to stop this Lucanis.” You mentally urge yourself to break free from the temptation she brings you because you know that nothing could ever happen. Who would want to be with someone that has a demon attached to them?

“Ahhh yes, who would want the baggage you carry, Lucanis?” Spite hisses, enjoying his new weapon of torment to use against you. “Although… I am sure you must have noticed her interest in you, no?” He continues his mind games as you desperately try to block him out.

Admittedly, there have been moments where you have felt her express interest but you are unsure whether that is delusion or real… so you play it safe and respond politely. You have been out of the game for quite some time now and you fear you may have lost your touch with women.

As if summoned by your thoughts, a light rap sounds at your door, and it sickens you knowing that you have memorised how her knocks sound. Before you have time to respond, Spite uses your momentary distraction to take over and once again you are a prisoner in your mind.

________________________

Mia:

Maybe you didn’t knock hard enough? He usually hears and invites you in so this raises alarm bells instantly. You cautiously push the door open and enter his room.

“Lucanis? I hope it’s okay that I let myself in, I wanted to-.” You stop yourself as you examine the sly smile that has spread across his face, his eyes glowing that eery magenta and you know that it is not Lucanis.

“Now we get to talk.” Spite hisses in your direction.

“We have nothing to talk about.” You say through gritted teeth. This has been a regular occurrence lately and it’s growing tiresome seeing someone you care so deeply about lose control of themselves.

“Lucanis. Made a deal. He has not kept. Break our chains. Kill. Escape Prison. And Live. I want Lucanis to honour the deal! I WANT OUT! TELL HIM! MAKE HIM-.” A frustrated growl pours from his lips as you watch Lucanis’ body double over, he is fighting Spite… Lucanis is trying to regain control and to help you softly place your hand on his shoulder, hoping that it can be an actor for him to take hold of.

“Rook? What happened? Did I- did he hurt you?” Shame fills Lucanis’ face as his gaze examines your body.

“Nothing happened, I’m okay.” You offer him a soft smile and gently squeeze his shoulder.

“How… how do you always do that? Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom? You deserve better than to deal with my mess…” His brows furrow in frustration and his voice breaks ever so slightly.

“You are more than what you’re going through… and besides, I like messes… well… I like your mess… you wear it well.” Your cheeks flush and you feel like a teenager struggling to form the right words as he approaches you. Lucanis leans his arm over you, gently pressing your body against the wall and a heat pools at your center.

“This is not a good idea… you like to walk a little close to the edge.” His pitch lowers as his eyes lock in with yours, he is so close you can smell his scent of cinnamon and coffee beans.

“So do you…” you breathe out and place your hand delicately on his chest.

“At least I know I’m doing it, little Crow.” In a hushed, gravelly voice, he leans in further, and you can feel his breath against your lips. Your eyes close as a feather-light touch cascades across your jawline, and you tilt your head, trying to catch his mouth with yours, only to be met with him suddenly drawing away. Confusion and embarrassment settle in the pit of your stomach as you lock eyes with him

“I… need to clear my head. Excuse me.” Luncanis pushes off the wall and offers you an apologetic smile as he exits his quarters, leaving you with confusion and a longing that aches to be held.

As you enter your room and lay on your day bed, two little words flit across your mind. “Little crow” … a new heat ignites at your center as your hands gently caress their way around your body. You replay those two words over and over again as you fantasise where that moment could have taken you.

___________________________

Lucanis:

“Mierda! What is wrong with me?!” You run your hands through your hair in frustration at your cowardice. She was right there… you were so close to tasting her lips, her scent still lingered as if it desperately clung to you, begging you to find her again.

“You’re a coward, Lucanis. Deep down, you always were.” Spite’s words slither out menacingly and entangle around your thoughts. “You had her, and you ran. HAH”

“Shut up, Spite! SHUT UP!” Rage fills your veins as you listen to his deception. He’s playing games with you, he always plays games with you, and it seems you always let him win. You did have her… maybe you still do. Fuck it. You think to yourself as you hastily make your way to her room, shoving Spite out of your thoughts as he attempts to sabotage your decision. After years in the Ossuary you have learnt how to shut him out when necessary even when you knew how much it angered him… but tonight, he was not going to win.

As you reach her door, all etiquette fades amid your urgency as you burst through and take in the sight before you. She lays outstretched on her day bed, wearing nothing but her undergarments, which sends a surge straight to your throbbing core. Her cheeks are flushed as she abruptly sits up, staring at you with her mismatched blue and lavender eyes.

“Rook… I’m sorry-.”

“Mia. Call me Mia.” She holds your stare and slowly pads across the concrete floor. Once she reaches you, her fingers lace themselves through your hair, and a shiver runs down your body. “Just tonight… then you don’t have to touch me ever again if you don’t want to.” You feel her warm breath against your ear as she gently pulls your face down towards her.

“Little Crow… if I indulge tonight, I fear I may never want to be without you again…” Your right-hand tangles itself in her curls, and they are softer than you imagined. “Are you sure?” You whisper against her lips and as she nods slowly in response a low groan escapes you as you bring your mouths together.

Your lips meld together, moving in synchronisation as if they had found their home. She tastes of a sweet hazelnut praline, and you inhale her scent, savouring each moment, searing it into your memories. Your free hand encircles the small of her back as you pull her in tightly against you, earning a small gasp from her as she feels your arousal through your clothing.

Momentarily, you break free from her lips and watch her, taking in her beautiful form. She laces her fingers between yours, pulling you to her day bed and slowly lays herself down, never breaking eye contact. You tilt your head ever so slightly in curiosity, and then she seductively spreads her legs. Whatever willpower you had left crumbled at her unspoken invitation, and you found yourself crawling your way over her. Fuck willpower. You think to yourself as you scatter hot, wet kisses down her body and release her underwear with a swift flick of a hidden blade.

Before you dive into her depths, you glance up and meet her gaze as she watches you, sending another ache to your throbbing cock. Without breaking eye contact, you take the plunge, gliding your tongue through her dripping wet folds, and you release a deep groan into her sex. She tastes better than any coffee you could ever make, and if you could swap for this to be your chosen beverage, you would do it in a heartbeat. As your pace quickens with urgency, you feel her legs begin to shake and suddenly her back arches as she shatters around your face, gripping your hair tightly as you slowly work through her waves of pleasure.

You remove your clothes with haste and hold yourself up over her, taking in the small beads of sweat that have now settled over her brow and across her body. She once again spreads her legs on either side of you and tilts herself up as if she were just as desperate to feel you inside her.

“So eager, my little crow… Are you ready? There’s no going back after this.” You bring your mouth to her ear as you rake your hardened length teasingly down her slick seam.

“Yes. Please.” A low groan escapes her lips as she lifts her hips once more.

Please… the word undoes your self-control, and you push into her immediately. “Fuck.” The word slips from your mouth as you begin to pump in and out of her, the feel of her naked body against yours sends electricity through you. Mia pulls your face towards hers and kisses you deeply. Her tongue slips past your lips and entangles itself in a dance with your own and you release a cry of pleasure at the intimate act.

Your hand snakes its way down her body and lands on her swollen bud, sending a jolt of pleasure through her body as you tightly circle the sensitive flesh.

“Lucanis… I’m... going to…” she pants through sharp breaths as you feel her body shaking beneath yours.

“Let go for me. Come for me, little crow; I want to hear my name on your lips.” Your pace quickens as you feel her walls tighten around your cock as she comes undone, sending you over the edge with her.

You collapse beside her and pull her close, stroking her hair as she leans her head against your heaving chest. A calm settles in the cool air as you lay there with her, and for the first time in what seems like forever, you feel at peace.

“Peace, for now, Lucanis. You cannot shut me out forever. We still have a deal, and if you do not hold your end of the bargain, Rook will be in danger.” Spite’s voice distantly echoes in the back of your mind, and you pull Mia closer to you, silently vowing to find a way to make this work.

#dragon age veilguard #dragon age fics #lucanis x rook #lucanis dellamorte #dragon age lucanis #bg3 #lucanis fic #lucanis fiction #lucanis fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #da4 fic #da4 lucanis #ao3 author #ao3fic #ao3feed #ao3 #astarion #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic

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kikiswriting7 · 5 months ago

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Take a Chance ✵ JJK ✵ MYG - 4

✵ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

✵Summary: Y/N just move across the world to start her University. She is paired with a roommate who is complete social butterfly and makes a bet, Y/N needs to take more chances. And at the hint of her new found friend, her social and romantic life take a dramatic turn.

✵Tags/Warnings: Smut, College AU, red flag, sexual tension. angst, dirty talking, drinking, friends with benefits, full of cliches, friends to lover, temptation

✵Notes: Hello! Sorry it took a bit longer than imagined! I am also writing my bachelor thesis together with this and its a whole lot of words hahahah Anyway hope you enjoy it and if you want to be added to the tag list please sign up on this link! (You must be over 18 ;) )

lots of love, Kiki

CHAPTER 3 - ALL FUN AND GAMES UNTIL

Jin is screaming at the TV as we play the video game he so desperately begged to play. "Seriously!? How can you be this good?! It's not fair! You said you never played it before!" He quickly restarts the game from the point where I finished, and he didn’t. I shrug it off, smirking. We've been playing every other day together, either through calls or him coming over. Normally, we play some co-op game where we can team up against what we swear are young boys, who we are sure are screaming behind every elimination point we get. But today, he wanted to try this new Mario game where we need to complete the courses against each other.

“What can I do if you keep falling over?” I say with a straight face and a side-eye when he restarts the same level we have been trying to finish for the past two and a half hours.

Jimin, sprawled on the couch next to us and entertained by his phone, just laughs off the misery of his friend, earning him a fast shush.

“Ahhh, shiiiiish,” he says, taking a deep breath before pressing play again. “You know, I think we finally found someone who's good at winning. I bet she’s better than JK….” Jimin says to no one in particular. But the one he was talking about, equally sprawled in a corner, is quick to glance his friend’s way.

“I would bet my chips on you, Dice,” Jimin says, poking my leg with the tip of his foot. The nickname, unfortunately, stuck. Not because I liked it, but because they thought it was hilarious—such a random word for a nickname. Gabi proved her point for the nickname not too many nights ago when we were at a bar and I refused to do more shots with her.

The nudge delivered by Jimin was enough to lose my timing and jump wrong, letting Jin follow on with the course.

“HA!” He jumps over the seat. “Who’s the best now?!” He is excitedly playing the game standing up now, getting the attention of the two other boys in the room.

“Clearly not her…” JK mumbles under his breath. I give him a bad look, sitting back on the couch. Not too many jumps later, Jin’s character follows suit, descending to the bottom of the screen with a sad losing music. Jimin laughs again at the situation and goes back to being on his phone.

They have been over almost every day for the last five weeks. Eli is also one that doesn’t miss an opportunity to be over. However, since Yoongi introduced Mina, he’s been a bit more distant. If he doesn’t say he’s busy trying to finish a project for whatever class he has, he vanishes, to the point that not even the others know where he went. Whenever we do get to talk, often just small talk when the others are choosing the movie, he seems to always go back to the subject of this girl in school that he thinks is adorable. Every time he mentions her, he manages to describe her loosely enough that I (Jimin, Gabi, and I) think that the only person he could be describing is me. Mina was ruled out as a suspect as she doesn’t go to the same school and doesn’t exactly fit the characteristics he keeps mentioning.

“Man, you need to jump literally two seconds earlier,” JK gets up, steals the controller from Jin, and drops in the middle of the two of us, breaking the zoning out that I was entering.

Before he presses start, he leans closer. “Sorry, but this one you're not gonna get lucky, Dice.” And turns back to face the TV.

The countdown starts, and we both get ready to try and not lose first. Even Jimin, who clearly doesn’t give a single care, sneakily puts his phone down to watch what is about to unfold.

The game starts, and we both are flawlessly jumping the boxes, each step closer to the point Jin and I couldn’t pass. Knowing the circuit better, I know when to run faster, so I end up in front of JK, who is now reaching closer and closer to the edge of the seat. Everyone is holding their breath as we both successfully pass the point where we were stuck, and we can clearly see the end of the course and the last jumps we need to make when the door slams open with an out-of-breath Gabi, breaking our concentration long enough that we cannot complete the almost-done course.

Jimin rolls his eyes. “What is it now?” he asks.

“Oh man! I have piping hot freaking tea,” she slams the door shut. “I just saw Yoongi!”

“Are you for real?” Jungkook jumps up and points to the TV. “We almost won!”

“If you let me finish, you would have the same reaction as me,” Gabi says, flicking him off. She locks eyes with me before she continues, “I saw Yoongi. With Eli. As in, them together, quite close, together.”

Jimin is now the one sitting up. “What the fuck? Are you serious?” And Gabi just nods, confirming it.

“Forget it. This is so stupid. And so what if they were together?” Jungkook sits back down next to me but receives a side-eye from all of us, without reply.

“Anyway… thought you should know that,” she looks at me and at Jimin. Us three have developed almost psychic abilities at this point. We all know now that she means that the mystery girl might, in fact, not be me, but Eli.

Jimin sits back, rubbing his temples, processing the revelation. The room falls into a heavy silence, the excitement from the game now a distant memory. Jin, sensing the tension, puts down the controller and turns to Gabi.

“Wait, are you sure it was Eli? Maybe it was someone who looked like her?”

Gabi shakes her head, her expression serious but still with wide eyes. “Oh, I’m positive. They were really close, drinking that coffee.”

I glance at Jimin, who looks back at me with an expression that mirrors my confusion and concern. Eli and Yoongi? The idea of it doesn’t sit right, but Gabi's encounter seems hard to refute.

“Maybe they’re just friends?” I suggest, trying to diffuse the situation, though I know it sounds weak.

Jin, always the peacemaker, tries to lighten the mood. “Yeah, maybe it’s just a misunderstanding. You know how Yoongi is, always friendly with everyone.”

But the seed of doubt has been planted. I can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. Over the past few weeks, I’ve found myself growing more and more interested in Yoongi. His charm and the way he could always make me laugh—it was hard not to develop feelings. But now, knowing about him with Eli, of all people, it feels like a punch to the gut.

Jungkook, still beside me, is watching me closely. He’s become good at reading my emotions, even when I try to hide them. He shifts a little closer, his shoulder brushing mine, offering silent support.

Jimin, ever the skeptic, isn’t convinced. “Gabi, you sure you’re not jumping to conclusions? Yoongi’s always been a bit of a player, but this seems... different. I mean, I’m pretty sure that both of them know that you like Yoongi…”

Gabi crosses her arms, standing her ground. “I know what I saw. They were way too close to just be friends.”

The room falls silent again, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I can feel Jungkook’s eyes on me, and I know he’s worried. I can sense he wants to say something, but he holds back.

Finally, Jin sighs. “Look, sitting here speculating isn’t going to help. Plus, Jimin I might add that hes our friend for ages, so maybe lets not jump the gun here.” He says giving him a small side eye “Why don’t we do something to get our minds off this?” He suggests

Gabi nods enthusiastically. “There’s a party at this club in the city centre. We should go. It’ll be a good distraction.”

Jimin looks at me raising an eyebrow and smirking, waiting for my reaction. I take a deep breath, trying to push away the hurt. “Yeah, let’s go. Maybe a party is exactly what we need.”

As we start getting ready, the mood in the room shifts slightly. The anticipation of the party brings a sense of normalcy back, even if just temporarily. Jin and Jimin are quick to joke around, trying to lift everyone’s spirits. And starting the pre drinking that we normally do before going out.

The drive to the party is filled with laughter and light-hearted banter, a welcome distraction from the earlier tension. When we arrive, the thumping music and the buzz of people immediately envelop us.

Inside, we try to stay together. We find ourselves mingling with the people in the middle of the club. But my mind keeps drifting back to Yoongi and Eli. I spot Jungkook across the room coming back with a few more drinks, our eyes lock. He gives me a reassuring nod, and I feel a bit more grounded.

As the night goes on, Gabi, Jimin, and I find ourselves getting progressively drunk. We take shots, laugh at stupid jokes, and dance like there’s no tomorrow. For a while, it feels good to let loose and forget about the confusion and hurt.

“Another round?” Gabi shouts over the music, holding up her cup.

“Why not?” Jimin grins, already looking a more then just a bit buzzed.

I laugh, feeling the alcohol warm my veins. “Let’s do it!”

We clink our glasses together and down the shots, the burn of the liquor making me wince. But it’s a good kind of burn, one that makes me feel alive and carefree.

Jungkook watches from the sidelines, a small smile playing on his lips. He’s sticking to soda, playing the responsible one tonight. He catches my eye and raises his glass in a silent toast. I smile back, grateful for his steady presence.

Hours pass in a blur of music, laughter, and drinks. At some point, Gabi pulls me onto the dance floor, and we lose ourselves in the rhythm. Jimin joins us, his movements loose and carefree. We’re a trio of drunken joy, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I see Yoongi and not far behind, Eli. My heart sinks, and the carefree feeling evaporates.

Gabi, noticing my distraction, follows my gaze and frowns. “Ignore them,” she says, squeezing my hand. “Tonight’s about having fun.”

I nod, trying to take her advice to heart. But it’s hard to shake the image from my mind. Jungkook appears beside me, offering a gentle smile.

“Hey, wanna get some fresh air?” he asks, trying to talk over the loud music.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I say, grateful for the escape.

We step outside, the cool night air a welcome relief from the stuffy, crowded club. The outside, filled with people smoking and chatting loudly in the street.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft.

I shrug, definetly feeling the alcohol in my system now and dulling the edges of my emotions. “It’s fine. Its not like we had anything anyway” I try to push away the conversation that I definetly don’t want to have right now.

He nods, understanding. “You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are.”

I look at him and raise an eyebrow. For the past weeks, he has kept to himself with the flirting. We all have been going out together and his presence ever so reasuring. I give him a small laugh and shrug away his statement.

He smiles, his eyes warm. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, but I swear I could see his eyes sparkle when looking back at him. My heart flutters and I definetly must be way more drunk than I thought. I need to go find Gabi. She must be drunk in a corner somehwere.

I quickly turn around and stumble and Jungkook quickly grabs my arm to bring me back to my feet. “Should we go home? I think you had enough of party today…” he says carefully. Damn that cold feeling on my stomach. I definelty don’t feel anything for him. But why do his lips look so pink and soft? I can only imagine what they would feel like..

I shake my head snapping out of it, catching his big round eyes staring back at me.

“No, I need to find Gabi. We always come back together.” We weave our way back through the throngs of people, the music thumping louder as we reenter the crowded club. My head is swimming, a mix of alcohol and emotions making it hard to focus. Jungkook stays close, his hand lightly resting on the small of my back, guiding me through the chaos.

As we make our way to the bar, I spot Gabi leaning heavily into Jin, laughing at something he said. Jin, ever the gentleman, is trying to keep her upright, a bemused smile on his face. Jimin is nearby, his gaze darting between Gabi and the crowd, looking slightly lost.

I manage to make my way over to Gabi, and she immediately latches onto me, her eyes bright and unfocused. “There you are! Let’s do more shots!” she exclaims, her words slurring together.

I’m about to agree when Jimin and Jungkook intervene. “Nop, no more shots for you” Jimin says firmly, gently prying Gabi off me. “You’re already drunk enough.” Jungkook nods in agreement. “Let’s get you some water instead.”

Gabi pouts but doesn’t resist much as Jimin leads her away from the bar. I giggle but I feel a twinge of disappointment, part of me wanting to keep the party going, to drown out all the emotions bubbling inside of me right now. But Jungkook’s steady presence next to me is a reminder that I will not be taking anything else tonight other then water.

Just then, Yoongi and Eli approach our group. They don’t make it obvious that they arrived together, and no one brings it up. Yoongi’s eyes find mine, a mix of concern and something else in his gaze. Eli is by his side, but there’s a distance between them now that wasn’t there before.

“Hey,” Yoongi says, his voice calm and composed. “You guys okay?”

I nod, with a loose smile on my lips “Yeah, just trying to keep Gabi from getting too drunk.”

“I would say Jungkook and Jimin are trying to keep you both from getting more drunk” Eli jokes and I feel him tense next to me. “It was his idea!” Gabi butts in the conversation and points to Jimin who, also drunkly, tries to steady her.

Yoongi glances at Gabi, who is now back to happily chatting with Jimin and Jin, then back at me. “I can take you guys home if you want. I’m heading out anyway.”

We leave the club, Yoongi and Eli flanking us as we make our way to the bus stop. Gabi and Jimin are in high spirits, though their drunken state makes it clear that they’re struggling to keep their balance. Gabi leans heavily on Eli, her laughter spilling out in bursts that mix with the cool night air. Jimin, also swaying slightly, is grinning like a fool and bumping into things as we walk.

Yoongi sticks close to my side, his presence steady and reassuring. Eli occasionally glancing back at Yoongi and me.

The bus ride is a mix of awkwardness and exhaustion. I notice that Eli is starting to fidget. Gabi and Jimin are getting more out of control, their drunken antics making it hard for me to keep a clear head. I try to help them find their seats, but Gabi keeps giggling and leaning against me while Jimin slumps into the seat, his head resting against the window.

Yoongi sits beside me, his arm brushing against mine. He leans in slightly, his voice soft. “How are you holding up?”

I glance at him, appreciating his concern. “I’m okay, looking forward to get home”

He nods, a small smile on his lips.

The bus jolts to a stop, and I watch as Eli exits, waving goodbye with a slightly disheveled look. The doors close behind her, and the bus continues on its route.

By the time we reach our stop, Gabi and Jimin are both in bad shape. Jimin stumbles off the bus and as Yoongi unlocks the door, as he is the who is the most sober between all of us, Jimin pushes him aside and crashes onto the couch in the living room, his body collapsing in a heap. Gabi, somehow finding the energy, manages to make her way to her room, though she’s swaying and mumbling incoherently.

Yoongi helps me get Gabi to her bed, making sure she’s settled before turning back to me. The apartment is quiet, the noise of the night replaced by a peaceful stillness.

I make my way back to the front door, feeling a wave of sobriety wash over me as the adrenaline from the night fades. The reality of the situation hits me hard. I’m alone with Yoongi, the person I’ve been trying to understand and connect with for weeks, but was just out with one who I tought was one of my best friends here.

“Thank you for everything tonight,” I whisper trying not wake up Jimin who was asleep not too far, I look up at him with a shy and grateful smile.

He takes a step closer, his eyes locking onto mine. “It was my pleasure. I’m just glad you are okay.”

There’s a charged silence between us, the air heavy with unspoken words and emotions. Yoongi’s gaze drops to my lips, and I can see the desire and warmth in his eyes. Without thinking, which I can only blame the 5 shots and the many cups of wine I downed this evening, I lean in, my heart racing.

Yoongi meets me halfway, his lips capturing mine in a heated kiss. The world around us fades away as the kiss deepens, his hands finding their way to my face, holding me close. The kiss is a mix of longing and relief, a culmination of all the emotions we’ve both been holding back.

When our lips finally meet, it’s a delicate, exploratory touch��soft and hesitant, as if we’re both savoring the moment of first contact. His lips are warm and tender against mine, sending a rush of sensation that makes my heart skip a beat. The kiss deepens slowly, becoming more passionate but still gentle, as if we are both savoring the newness of the moment.

His hands move to cup my face, holding me gently but firmly, as if anchoring us both in this moment. I respond, my hands resting on his shoulders, feeling the tension and warmth of his body. The kiss becomes a dance of give-and-take, each movement smooth and synchronized.

Suddenly, Yoongi’s hands slide down from my face to my waist, pulling me closer against him. The intensity of the kiss increases, and a soft moan escapes my lips as his tongue brushes against mine, teasing and exploring. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the firmness of his chest against mine, and it sends a shiver of excitement through my body.

I run my fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer, the kiss growing more fervent. His hands roam my back, tracing patterns that make my skin tingle with anticipation. Every touch, every brush of his lips feels electric, and I’m completely lost in the sensation, in him.

We finally break apart, gasping for breath, our foreheads resting against each other. Yoongi’s eyes are dark with desire, his breathing ragged. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admits softly, his voice husky with emotion.

I nod, my heart pounding. “Me too,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of my racing heartbeat.

He smiles, a soft, genuine smile that makes my heart flutter. “I should go now. It’s late, and you need to get some rest. You’re definitely going to need some coffee tomorrow.”

I manage a small laugh, still feeling the aftershocks of our kiss. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you, for getting us back here.”

He gives me one last, lingering look before stepping towards the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” I reply, watching him leave. The door closes behind him, and I’m left alone in the quiet apartment, feeling a mixture of exhilaration and nervous anticipation for what comes next.

I head back to my room, feeling completely sober now, the kiss still fresh on my lips. He’s right. I will definitely need that coffee tomorrow.

The sharp light of morning filters through the thin curtains, turning my small bedroom into a bright, albeit blurry, reality. My head is pounding with the remnants of last night’s revelry, and I feel a dull ache behind my eyes. I groan and stretch, hoping to shake off the fog that lingers from too many drinks.

I roll over to check my phone, squinting at the screen as I fumble with the brightness. The messages from Jungkook, sent in the group chat, catches my attention first, asking if we all made it back safely. Yoongi’s reply—a simple thumbs-up.

God. Yoongi. Did I actually kiss him last night? The reality of what happened last night comes crashing back. My heart skips a beat as I remember the kiss, the heat of his lips against mine, and the surge of feelings that accompanied it. The warmth of Yoongi’s touch, the intensity in his eyes—it all feels so vivid and real, despite the haze of alcohol that clearly clouded my judgment.

I sit up, shaking my head to clear the lingering grogginess. My fingers instinctively brush over my lips, still tingling from the kiss. Was it a mistake? Was it something real? The confusion and anxiety settle in as I replay the moments leading up to that kiss in my mind. The way Yoongi had looked at me, how our lips had met, the way his touch had felt.

I stumble out of bed, trying to piece together the fragments of the previous night. The sun’s rays are harsh against my eyes, magnifying the headache that pulses with each heartbeat. As I pad across the room, my reflection in the mirror catches my eye. My hair is a mess, and I look as disheveled as I feel. I reach for my phone again, scrolling through the messages to see if there’s any sign of further communication from him. But there’s nothing new.

I head to the kitchen, hoping that a strong cup of coffee will help me clear my head. The ritual of brewing coffee is a small comfort amidst the turmoil. As the aroma fills the kitchen, no matter how hard I try, my mind keeps returning to the kiss.

The way Yoongi’s lips had felt on mine was more than just a normal kiss— Had it been just the alcohol talking? Or was there something real beneath the surface? I keep replaying the moment in my head, his warm breath against my cheek, the way his fingers had cradled my face. But Gabi had seen him with Eli, not long before.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside me. I need to talk to Yoongi, but how do I even begin with a conversation like that? What if he sees it as just a mistake, or worse, what if he regrets it? Maybe he was drunk too and might not even remember last night.

The coffee brews slowly, giving me time to gather my thoughts. I decide to take a shower, hoping that the refreshing feel of water will help me clear my mind. As I let the hot water cascade over me, I try to focus on the present, on the routine of getting ready for the day.

Wrapped in a towel, I check my phone again. The lack of new messages from Yoongi only heightens my anxiety. I wonder if he’s also been thinking about what happened, or if he’s already moved past it. The uncertainty is eating at me.

“Hey, thanks for last night. I was wondering if you are free later? Thought we should talk”

I hit send and put my phone down. Now, it’s a matter of waiting for his response. I hear commotion on the living room as Jimin starts to come back to himself. I prepare an extra cup of coffe and head to the living room. I drop onto the couch next to Jimin, who’s already wincing at the strong aroma of coffee. He looks as rough as I feel—his hair sticking out in odd angles, and the dark circles under his eyes making him look like he’s been through a battle.

“Man I feel bad if you feel like how you look” Jimin grumbles, his eyes half-shut as he reaches for the coffee I’d prepared for him.

“If I were you, I’d keep quiet. You don’t look much better yourself,” I reply, trying to match his attempt at humor with my own. I lean back against the cushions, feeling the slight comfort of the soft fabric against my tired body.

Jimin takes a slow sip from his cup, grimacing as the bitter taste hits his tongue. “Ugh, I don’t even remember getting home last night. Was it really as crazy as it felt?”

“It was a pretty intense night,” I say, trying to keep my tone casual. I don’t mention the kiss, not really sure why. I blame the hungover I’m nursing. “We all made it back somehow. Gabi’s still asleep in her room.”

Jimin nods, his gaze distant as he tries to piece together fragments of the previous night. “Yeah, I remember bits and pieces. I think I saw Yoongi...”

The mention of Yoongi makes my heart race a little faster. I try to push away the nervousness and focus on Jimin’s recovery from his hangover. “Yeah, Yoongi was a real lifesaver. He helped get us home and made sure everyone was okay.”

“Oh, nice of him,” Jimin replies, his voice a bit clearer now.

I manage a small smile and nod, though my thoughts are still consumed by the kiss and the uncertainty of where things stand between Yoongi and me.

The sound of my phone buzzing interrupts the quiet moment. I reach for it, my heart skipping a beat as I see Yoongi’s name on the screen. I quickly open the message, hoping for some clarity.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking about last night too. I’m free this afternoon. How about we meet up and talk?”

A mix of relief and anxiety floods over me. He wants to meet and talk—this is my chance to understand what really happened between us. I take a deep breath and compose my reply.

Sounds good. How about we meet at that? I’ll see you there around 3?

I send the message and set my phone aside, feeling a slight tremor of nerves in my stomach. Meeting up with Yoongi will bring everything out into the open. I glance at Jimin, who’s now scrolling through his phone and looking slightly more awake.

“Hey, I’m heading out this afternoon to meet up with Yoongi,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “Do you think you’ll be up for a little while? Maybe we can catch up after I get back?”

Jimin nods, managing a weak smile. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just need to get through this coffee and maybe a nap. You go ahead. I’ll be here.”

“Thanks,” I say, feeling a touch of gratitude. “let me know if you need anything else”

I’m not surprise that we were walking up late, way past noon. I get ready, throwing some casual clothes and leave the appartment, taking my time to reach the café. The sunlight feeling oddly warm and bright as I head towards the café. The crisp air helps clear my mind a little, though the anxiety about the upcoming conversation with Yoongi lingers. I keep replaying the kiss in my mind, trying to decipher its meaning.

When I finally reach the café, I find a quiet corner table and settle in, hoping that the ambiance and the soothing music will help calm my nerves. I order a drink and wait, my thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation.

Yoongi arrives right on time, looking casual but put-together. He spots me and gives a small wave as he walks over, looking not at all bothered by anything. Why do I have a feeling this might go south?

“Hey,” he says as he approaches, taking a seat across from me. “Thanks for meeting up.”

“Of course,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “I thought it was important we talk.”

We both sit in silence for a moment, the weight of the kiss hanging between us. Finally, Yoongi breaks the silence, his voice low and sincere.

“I’ve been thinking about last night a lot,” he starts, looking directly into my eyes. “I really felt something when we kissed,” he had said, and I could see the sincerity in his eyes. But then, he had added, “But I’m not looking for anything serious right now. So I would appreciate if we could keep it low what happened.”

Yoongi’s words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world around me seems to blur. The warm café, the chatter of other patrons, the gentle hum of the coffee machine—all fade as I focus on the unexpected turn in his confession

His expression is a mix of apprehension and regret, as if he’s bracing himself for my reaction. I sit there, trying to process the weight of his words. The initial rush of relief I felt when I saw his message this morning feels like a distant memory. The knot in my stomach tightens as I grapple with the reality of what he’s saying.

I’m still silent, struggling to articulate my thoughts. The brief silence feels interminable, filled with the noise of my own racing heartbeat and the hum of the café around us. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.

“I’m ok with that.” I try to brush it off even though the only thing in my mind was that damn kiss. He still seems tense. “I mean it was just a moment of…intensity. You just want to forget what happened?” I ask him

Yoongi’s gaze drops to his hands, fidgeting with the edge of the napkin on the table. “Not exactly forget. More like…keep it as a moment that happened between us, but not let it change things or complicate what we have right now.”

I nod slowly, the disappointment settling heavily in my chest. “I understand. I guess I should’ve expected something like this. I mean, we were both drunk”

We sit in silence for a moment, the initial tension easing slightly as we both process the conversation. Yoongi takes a sip of his coffee, and I try to find solace in the soothing ambiance of the café.

Finally, I’m the one to break the silence. “Do you want to talk about something else? Or maybe just…hang out for a bit?”

“Uh, actually I’m a bit busy today. Maybe another day?”

I nod, trying not show the dissapointment that is brewing inside.

“Yup. Thanks for the talk today!” I say to him and he quickly finishes his drink and gets ready to leave.

Yoongi finishes his coffee quickly and stands up, his movements a little too eager as if he’s anxious to leave. He offers me a quick, somewhat awkward smile before gathering his things.

“Thanks for being chill about it,” he says, his voice filled with genuine relief. “I’ll text you later!”

I manage a small, forced smile in return. “Yup. Thanks for the talk today!” I watch him as he heads out, the door chiming softly behind him. The café feels emptier now, the absence of his presence leaving a noticeable gap.

As the door closes, the reality of our conversation settles heavily in my chest. I stare down at the remnants of my coffee, the once comforting aroma now a bitter reminder of our discussion. The weight of his words, the certainty of his boundaries, and the palpable sense of finality hang around me like a shroud.

The quiet of the café feels almost oppressive now, the gentle murmur of conversations and the clinking of cups a distant background noise. I glance around, feeling disconnected from the world outside, lost in the aftermath of our conversation.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my swirling emotions. I had hoped for more clarity, a resolution that would either move us forward or let me put the past behind me. Instead, I’m left with an uneasy acceptance of the boundaries Yoongi has set. It feels like a door closing softly, leaving me in a limbo between hope and resignation.

With a sigh, I gather my things and stand up, taking one last look around the café before heading out. The sunlight outside feels warm and bright, but it does little to chase away the lingering shadows in my mind. Previous ✧ Next

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