#and I told her that even if I was it wouldn’t bother me

[reidmarieprentiss]

Meet My Friends

Summary: Spencer says he's keeping your relationship a secret for your safety, but why does it feel like he's just hiding you?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff

Warnings/Includes: insecurities (both), hiding your partner, arguments, accusations

Word count: 4k

a/n: i've been reading so many fics about being Spencer's secret girlfriend and i just don't know how i would react

main masterlist

The thought had been lingering in your mind for months, an uncomfortable weight settling deeper in your chest with each passing day. You had told yourself it didn’t matter—that you didn’t need validation from his team, that as long as you and Spencer were happy together, that was enough.

But it wasn’t.

No matter how much you tried to push it aside, no matter how many times you told yourself that Spencer had his reasons, it didn’t change the fact that after over a year together, you hadn’t met the people who meant the most to him outside of you.

At first, you hadn’t questioned it. Spencer wasn’t the type to rush things, and given what he had been through, you had understood his hesitation. You had listened with patience when he explained why he kept his personal life separate from his work. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you in that part of his world. It was simply about safety.

After Maeve… after what had happened to her… Spencer couldn’t take the risk.

And you had nodded, told him you understood, and reassured him that you weren’t upset. At the time, you hadn’t been. It made sense. He had lost someone he loved in the most horrific way imaginable. You couldn’t imagine what it had done to him. So you had accepted it, letting him set the boundary.

But as time went on, that boundary didn’t budge.

It had been creeping into quiet moments, seeping into the cracks of your thoughts no matter how much you tried to push it away. You had told yourself you understood. That Spencer had been through things you couldn’t even begin to fathom. That he wasn’t keeping you a secret out of shame but out of fear.

And you had accepted that—at least, at first.

But as time passed, his justifications felt more like excuses. Not only had you never met his team, but he hadn’t even told them you existed. Not Hotch. Not JJ. Not even Ethan, his best friend. And worst of all, not his mother.

The realization hit you hard, churning inside you like a slow-moving storm. It wasn’t just about meeting them anymore. It was about the fact that he didn’t even speak your name to the most important people in his life. If something happened to him, they wouldn’t even know to call you.

That thought hurt more than you could have imagined.

Even when you spent countless nights in his arms, listening to his stories about his team.

Even when he came home exhausted from a case, trusting you enough to let you hold him through the nightmares.

Even when you whispered “I love you” into his skin, and he whispered it back like a promise.

You were a part of his life in every other way. But in this—one of the most important parts of him—you didn’t exist.

And now, as you sat across from him in your dimly lit apartment, watching the way he absentmindedly turned the pages of his book, you knew you couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t bother you.

Not anymore.

You took a breath, forcing your voice to remain steady as you finally said, “Spencer.”

He hummed in response, not looking up from the page.

You swallowed, forcing the words out. “Can I ask you something without you shutting down on me?”

That got his attention. His eyes flickered up, scanning your face, and immediately, you saw the way his posture changed. He closed the book carefully, setting it aside. “Of course,” he said, his voice cautious.

You hesitated, your fingers curling around the fabric of your sweater. “Why don’t you want me to meet your team?”

The room seemed to shrink around you. Spencer exhaled, pressing his lips together before shaking his head slightly. “We’ve talked about this.”

“I know,” you said quickly, before he could pull away from the conversation entirely. “And I’ve tried to be understanding. I get that you want to keep me safe. I know what happened with…” You trailed off, the lump in your throat making it impossible to finish.

Spencer’s jaw clenched.

You softened your tone, leaning forward. “I’m not asking to be reckless. I just… It’s been over a year. They’re like your family. And I feel like…” You sighed, struggling to find the right words. “I feel like I don’t exist in that part of your life.”

Spencer rubbed his hands together, staring down at them. He was quiet for a long moment before finally speaking, his voice tight. “You do exist. You’re the most important part.”

“Then why won’t you let me in?” The hurt bled into your voice before you could stop it. “Do they even know about me?”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Of—of course they do.”

“Do they?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended. “Why haven’t you told anyone about me? Your team. Your mom. Even Ethan. Nobody knows about me.”

His expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “You agreed. We’ve talked about this.”

“No,” you corrected gently. “We’ve talked about me meeting them. But this isn’t about that. This is about the fact that they don’t even know I exist.”

Spencer sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “You know why I don’t want to tell anyone.”

You nodded, trying to keep your voice calm despite the ache blooming in your chest. “Because you’re afraid for my safety. I know. But Spencer… how do you think that makes me feel? When you won’t even tell your own mother about me?”

His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to argue, but no words came.

“The most important people in your life have no idea I exist,” you continued, your voice wavering just slightly. “I try so hard to be understanding, but—” You exhaled sharply, pressing your lips together for a moment before whispering, “It feels like you’re ashamed of me.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. “No,” he said immediately. “No, it’s not that. I’m not embarrassed, I swear.”

“Then why?” you asked, your voice cracking despite your best efforts.

“Because I don’t want you to be in danger, not because I’m ashamed!” he snapped, the desperation in his voice raw and unfiltered.

You stared at him, your heart pounding. “Well, Spencer,” you said quietly, pain lacing every syllable, “it’s not looking like that right now.”

Spencer flinched at that. “That’s not fair.”

“I don’t mean to be unfair,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “I just don’t understand. They all have people in their lives. I’m sure they’ve all dated, gotten married, had kids—whatever. But you and me? It’s like I don’t belong in that part of your world.”

Spencer exhaled, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know how. “Because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Your heart ached at that. “I know,” you whispered. “But keeping me out doesn’t mean I won’t be.”

His lips parted, but he hesitated.

You took a shaky breath. “I don’t want to feel like I’m only allowed into pieces of your life. I want to be part of all of it.”

Spencer swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

The admission nearly knocked the air from your lungs.

You stood up abruptly, running a hand through your hair as you exhaled shakily. “I think I’m going to—I’m leaving for the night.”

Spencer’s face fell instantly, his whole body tensing as he reached for you, fingers brushing against your wrist in a desperate attempt to pull you back.

But you snatched your body away before he could touch you.

“I’m just—I’m very frustrated right now,” you said, trying to steady your voice. “And I want to get my thoughts together. Okay? I love you.”

Spencer nodded slowly, defeated. “I love you too.”

And then you walked out the door, leaving behind the quiet sound of his unsteady breathing.

—

You barely reached your car before the first fat tears started slipping down your cheeks, blurring your vision as you fumbled with your keys. Your breath hitched as you sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white. You had held yourself together as best as possible in front of Spencer, but now that you were alone, the emotions came crashing down in waves, relentless and unforgiving.

Once the tears started, they didn’t stop.

Your shoulders shook as quiet sobs wracked your body, your mind replaying the conversation over and over again. His hesitation. His fear. The way he had looked at you like he was terrified of losing you but still too afraid to let you in.

You swiped at your face, forcing yourself to take slow, uneven breaths. You needed somewhere to go. You weren’t ready to be alone, not when your mind was spinning, or the weight of everything felt suffocating.

With trembling fingers, you unlocked your phone and opened your messages, scrolling until you found the one person you knew you could turn to: Jaz.

Hey, are you awake?

You stared at the screen, watching as the message was sent, hoping—praying—that she would respond quickly. She was your closest friend in the area, the person you could trust to be there when you needed comfort.

But your heart sank as the seconds stretched into minutes with no reply.

You sniffled, biting your lip as you thought of your next best option. It wasn’t like you had many people to turn to—not when Spencer had kept you so separate from his world. But there was one person who had always been good to you and never made you feel like you didn’t belong.

Andrews.

You pulled up his contact without overthinking it and sent a quick message.

Hey, I know it’s late, but can I crash on your couch?

Unlike Jaz, Andrews responded almost immediately.

Yeah, of course. Door’s unlocked.

No questions. No hesitation.

Just a simple reassurance that you had somewhere to go.

You exhaled shakily, momentarily clutching your phone to your chest as fresh tears welled in your eyes—not from sadness this time, but gratitude.

You didn’t have much right now. But at least you weren’t completely alone.

—

The night at Andrews’ went just as planned. No questions, no expectations—just quiet understanding. When you arrived, eyes still puffy and your shoulders drawn tight with exhaustion, he didn’t press you for details. He simply opened the door wider, letting you in without a word.

Andrews greeted you with a warm hug, one of those steady, grounding embraces that let you breathe a little easier, if only for a moment. Then he handed you a blanket and a glass of water before patting your shoulder and saying, “Get some rest, okay?”

That was it. No interrogation, no prying curiosity. Just the comfort of knowing you had somewhere safe to be.

It wouldn’t take a profiler to see that something was going on in your life—something heavy, something painful—that you weren’t ready to talk about. And Andrews, perceptive as ever, didn’t push.

You curled up on his couch, pulling the blanket tightly around yourself as you stared at the ceiling, your mind still spinning. The events of the night replayed in your head like a broken record—the way Spencer had looked at you, desperate and afraid, but still unwilling to change. The way you had walked away, not because you wanted to, but because you needed to.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears to stop, willing sleep to come.

But even wrapped in warmth and the quiet safety of Andrews’ apartment, your heart still ached in a way you didn’t know how to fix.

—

When Spencer arrived home that evening you were expecting him to still give you space. After the way things were left, you assumed he would need time to process, think, and figure out what he wanted.

But when he walked inside, you were met with something entirely different.

“You went to Andrews’??”

Spencer’s voice was sharp, filled with an emotion you couldn’t immediately place, but it made you freeze where you were standing. He was clearly ready for you, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was tense, eyes burning with something that felt too close to betrayal.

You frowned, setting your book down. “Yes? What’s so bad about that?”

“What’s so bad?” he repeated, incredulous. “You were frustrated and emotional, and you sought out another man?”

You blinked at him, stunned. “He’s my friend, Spencer! I just crashed on his couch. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal!”

“Why?” you demanded, throwing your hands up.

“Because I was worried sick, you never told me where you went and—” His voice cracked slightly before he caught himself, raking a hand through his hair. “And maybe I was right to be worried! You were with another man!”

“Jesus Christ, Spencer!” you yelled, your frustration boiling over. “I. Slept. On. The. Couch.” You gritted the words out, enunciating them sharply so there would be no room for misinterpretation.

Spencer let out a bitter scoff, shaking his head as he looked away, clearly feeling hurt and emotional. “Anywhere but here, yeah?”

“That’s a bit dramatic,” you muttered, folding your arms over your chest.

Spencer’s jaw tightened as he exhaled sharply, his hands twitching at his sides. “How did you even know where I was?” you asked, realization dawning on you.

His entire body went stiff. His face turned red as he realized his mistake, and you watched as he sighed in resignation, his shoulders sinking.

“Penelope hacked your phone a while ago… shared your location with me.” His voice was quiet, almost sheepish. “I—I told her you were my cousin, that I was worried about you.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “You what?”

Spencer winced, shifting uncomfortably. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“You lied to Penelope and had her hack my phone?” You stared at him, a mix of anger and exasperation flooding your system. “Are you serious right now?”

Spencer swallowed hard, looking guiltier by the second. “I—I just needed to know you were okay.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Safe? Or just finding another way to put me in your fucking box?”

His silence was deafening. His lips parted slightly like he wanted to argue, to fight back, but nothing came out. Nothing but the guilt flickering behind his eyes.

That was all the confirmation you needed.

You exhaled sharply, raking a hand through your hair as you tried to steady yourself, but the frustration, the hurt—it was too much. “Unbelievable,” you muttered, pacing away from him just to get some distance, to keep from saying something you couldn’t take back.

Spencer shifted uneasily, his arms wrapping around himself like he was trying to hold himself together. “I was worried about you,” he said, voice tight.

“No,” you shot back, spinning around to face him. “You didn’t trust me.”

Spencer flinched, his face crumpling slightly before he forced himself to stand his ground. “I do trust you,” he insisted, but the words didn’t carry the conviction they should have.

You scoffed. “No, you don’t. If you trusted me, you wouldn’t have done this. You wouldn’t have had Penelope hack my phone just so you could keep tabs on me.” Your voice was rising now, the heat of the moment overtaking you. “And you were so damn quick to assume the worst. You didn’t even ask me where I went, Spencer. You just decided for yourself that I was—what? Running off to cheat on you?”

Spencer shook his head violently, eyes wide with emotion. “That’s not what I thought—”

“Then what?” you pressed, stepping closer, refusing to let him weasel his way out of this. “What was it, then? Because right now, it just looks like you needed to control something. And when I walked away, when I made a choice you didn’t like, you went behind my back and found another way to keep me under your thumb.”

Spencer swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as his breathing turned uneven. “I just—I can’t lose you,” he whispered, barely audible.

You let out a sharp breath, feeling the weight of those words settles between you like a loaded gun. His voice was thick with fear, his body tense with the kind of desperation that made your chest ache.

But that desperation didn’t excuse what he had done.

“And what, Spencer?” you asked quietly, exhaustion creeping into your voice. “You think the best way to keep me is by trapping me? By making sure I have nowhere else to go?”

You closed your eyes briefly, trying to hold yourself together, but your hands were shaking, your heart pounding in a way that made you feel small. Smaller than you ever wanted to feel.

“I have no friends here other than Jaz and Andrew, who I barely see,” you began, your voice rising as frustration bled into every syllable. You started pacing the floor in a tight line, your body too tense to stay still. “All of my family is on the other side of the country,” you continued, your breath coming faster, the weight of it all pressing down on you.

Spencer stood frozen, watching you with wide eyes, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but knew he shouldn’t.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “I work from home—at your suggestion! I am totally isolated!” The words cracked as they left your lips, your chest heaving as the truth you had been trying to ignore finally poured out.

Spencer paled, his jaw tightening. “That’s not—”

“It is,” you cut in sharply, your hands gesturing wildly. “It is, Spencer. You’ve built this little world for us, this perfectly safe little bubble where I don’t exist to anyone but you.” Your voice trembled, raw with emotion. “And I let it happen. I didn’t even see it happening.” You exhaled shakily, running a hand through your hair, your thoughts spiraling as the realization settled deep in your bones.

Spencer shook his head frantically, his breathing uneven. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean for it to be like that.”

“Then what did you mean for it to be, Spencer?” Your voice cracked as you stopped pacing, turning to face him. “Because this? This isn’t love. This is isolation.”

His entire body tensed like he had been struck. “That’s not true, I love you,” he whispered, but he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you.

You let out a humorless laugh. “Tell me, Spencer. If I left right now—if I just walked away—who would even notice?” You swallowed hard, your throat thick with emotion. “Who would even know that I was gone?”

“I would notice!” Spencer blurted out, his voice cracking, his entire body taut with emotion. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his breathing uneven, like he was holding himself together by a thread.

You let out a bitter, humorless laugh, shaking your head as the sheer absurdity of it all crashed over you. “Of course, you would!” you snapped, your voice shaking with anger and exhaustion. “You’re the only person who even knows I’m alive!”

Spencer flinched at your words as if they had physically struck him. His eyes darted across your face, desperate, pleading, but you weren’t backing down this time.

“You killed me, Spencer,” you finally realized, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the words settling deep in your chest.

Spencer’s breath hitched, his entire body going rigid. “What?”

“You were so adamant about protecting me,” you continued, your voice gaining strength, trembling with the sheer force of your emotions, “that you made it so no one—no psycho, no normal human—would ever notice me.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself as the gravity of it all crashed over you. “You didn’t just keep me safe, Spencer. You erased me.”

Spencer took a step forward, his face contorted with panic, his hands reaching out like he could somehow undo everything with a single touch. “No,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to.”

“But you did,” you said, your tone sharper now, more raw. “You pulled me into your world and locked the doors behind me. You made sure I had no one but you.” You let out a sharp, bitter laugh, the realization settling deep into your bones. “And you think that’s love?”

Spencer’s breathing was uneven, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I do love you,” he said desperately.

You swallowed hard, your own eyes burning as you looked at him, the man you loved—the man you still loved despite all of this. But love wasn’t enough.

“Then why does it feel like I’m drowning?” you whispered.

Spencer inhaled sharply, but he had no answer. No explanation. Nothing but the crushing weight of silence between you.

Spencer’s mind was working in overdrive, the weight of your words crashing into him with the force of a freight train. And the worst part? You were right.

Completely and utterly right.

He had ruined your life.

He hadn’t meant to. He had thought he was protecting you, keeping you safe from the dangers he saw in every shadow. But in doing so, he had trapped you in a world where you barely existed beyond the walls of your own home, beyond him.

His breath was coming faster now, his hands trembling at his sides as the reality of what he had done settled deep in his chest. He felt sick.

You watched him, your arms still wrapped around you like you were trying to hold yourself together, your face etched with exhaustion and something far worse—defeat.

He had done this.

Spencer swallowed hard, his voice barely steady as he finally spoke. “I—I understand if you need to leave.” His throat felt tight like the words physically hurt to say. “If you want to go reclaim your life…” His voice cracked, but he forced himself to continue. “I won’t stop you.”

You blinked at him, surprise flickering across your features.

“But if you stay…” He took a shaky breath, stepping forward, his heart pounding violently in his chest. “I’ll tell them. I’ll tell everyone. I don’t want to hide you anymore—I never should have.” His voice was raw, filled with regret so heavy it nearly swallowed him whole. He met your eyes, desperate for you to see the sincerity there. “You’re way too good to keep from the world.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with uncertainty, with the weight of everything that had been said.

Spencer searched your face, terrified of what he might find—of the moment you would shake your head, tell him it was too little, too late.

But you didn’t.

Not yet.

And that meant there was still hope.

“Call Diana,” you said, your voice softer now, steadier. “Let’s do it together.”

Spencer’s head snapped up so fast you almost heard it crack. His eyes were wide, searching your face for any sign that you weren’t serious. “You—you mean it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper like he was afraid to hope.

You crossed your arms, tilting your head slightly. “Right now or so help me,” you warned, but your lips curved into a small, teasing grin—one that was laced with truth.

Spencer exhaled sharply, something between a laugh and a disbelieving breath of relief. “Okay,” he nodded quickly, scrambling for his phone. His fingers trembled slightly as he unlocked it, pulling up his mother’s number.

“And the team tomorrow,” you added firmly, raising a brow as you watched him.

Spencer froze for just a second before nodding again, determination settling over him. “Tomorrow,” he echoed.

You moved closer, placing a steady hand over his to still his shaking fingers. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, vulnerable and open, filled with something that looked suspiciously like awe.

“Together,” you murmured.

Spencer swallowed hard, nodding once more before pressing the call button.

And as the line rang, for the first time in a long time, you finally felt seen.

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[xichilie]

Mydei x (fem)reader

Readers Birthday 🎂

Mydei wasn’t sure when it started—this constant awareness of her.

He’d always been protective of Y/N, always found himself drawn to her presence, but lately, it had turned into something else. A restlessness. A need to be closer.

And now, with her birthday coming up, that feeling had only intensified.

The problem?

He had no idea what to give her.

Birthdays weren’t a big thing in Kremnos. They didn’t celebrate the day someone was born—only the legacy they built. Warriors were honored for victories, for battles fought and won, for their strength and skills. Not for simply existing.

But Y/N wasn’t Kremnoan. She was from Okhema. And here, birthdays mattered.

Which meant he had to get her something.

Something worthy of her.

Mydei sat at the training grounds, absently sharpening his blade as his thoughts spiraled.

Armor? No, that felt more like a duty than a gift.

Something practical, then? She liked practical things.

But what?

In Kremnos Weapons and strength are everything...

“You look like your brain is overheating.”

Mydei didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

Phainon plopped down beside him, blue eyes far too amused.

“Go away.”

Phainon ignored that. “You’ve been acting weird lately,” he mused, resting his chin on his hand. “Especially today. Thinking about something?”

Mydei grunted. “No.”

Phainon smirked. “Uh-huh. Let me guess—it’s about Y/N.”

Mydei stiffened.

Phainon’s smirk widened. “Thought so.”

“Mind your business,” Mydei muttered, focusing harder on his blade.

“Oh, but this is very much my business,” Phainon said, stretching. “It’s entertaining. Watching you, of all people, get all worked up over a gift.”

“I’m not worked up.”

“You’re overthinking.”

“I am not—”

“Just ask her what she wants.”

Mydei glared at him. “That defeats the purpose.”

Phainon held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Keep struggling, then.” He stood, patting Mydei’s shoulder. “Can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

And with that, he strolled away, leaving Mydei even more annoyed than before.

By the next morning, Mydei had convinced himself that a sword was still the best option.

It was practical. It was strong. And it was something that would last.

So, he went to the best blacksmith in Okhēma, commissioned a custom blade, and waited.

But when he picked it up later that day…

Something felt off.

It was a fine weapon. Perfectly balanced, expertly crafted. It even had an engraving of her initials, just like his own sword bore his.

But as he held it, something in his gut told him—

This isn’t right.

It wasn’t that Y/N wouldn’t like it.

It was that she deserved more.

And that thought bothered him more than it should have.

“What about something personal?”

Phainon’s voice cut through Mydei’s thoughts.

They were sparring—well, Mydei was sparring, and Phainon was mostly talking.

“A sword is nice and all,” Phainon continued, sidestepping a strike, “but she already has plenty. And gifts should be meaningful.”

Mydei scowled, blocking his counterattack. “Weapons are meaningful.”

“To you,” Phainon corrected, twirling away. “But what about her?”

Mydei hesitated.

And that’s when it hit him.

He’d been thinking about what he would give as a warrior.

But not as himself.

Not as the man who knew Y/N better than most. Who trained with her, fought beside her, watched her laugh, listened to her ramble about things he didn’t always understand but still paid attention to.

He needed to give her something that wasn’t just practical.

Something that meant something to them.

And suddenly—

He knew exactly what to do.

Phainon raised a brow at the look on Mydei’s face.

“Finally figured it out?”

Mydei smirked.

“Yeah.”

He stayed up late, making sure everything was perfect.

It wasn’t extravagant. It wasn’t overly complicated.

But it was his.

And hers.

And when the morning came, and it was finally her birthday—

He knew, without a doubt, that he’d made the right choice.

The scent of warm vanilla, cinnamon, and caramelized sugar filled the air, blending into something sweet and familiar.

The kitchen was immaculate, every tool in its proper place, every ingredient meticulously measured.

This wasn’t just any cake. This was for Y/N.

Mydei worked with the same focused intensity he did when training. But this—baking—was an entirely different kind of battle. It wasn’t about brute strength. It was about precision, patience, and control.

And control was something Mydei had mastered.

He sifted the flour with practiced ease, the fine powder dusting his fingers as he combined it with butter, sugar, and eggs. The motion was so natural to him now, each step embedded in his muscle memory.

Unlike a battlefield, where unpredictability reigned, baking was exact. He followed the measurements, adjusted when necessary, and in the end, the result was something he could shape into perfection.

And today, perfection was the only option.

Because it was for her.

He had spent days planning this. Finding the best ingredients, testing recipes to make sure everything was flawless. He had even gone out of his way to ensure he got the right kind of chocolate she liked, even if it meant having to barter with an old vendor who only sold it in small batches.

Now, the cake was in the oven, rising beautifully, filling the air with its rich, golden aroma.

It smelled perfect.

While waiting, he turned to the other treats he had prepared.

A variety of pastries, neatly arranged, each one chosen specifically because he knew she liked them. He had learned what she liked over time—watching, observing, taking mental notes every time she reached for a certain kind of sweet.

He wouldn’t have done this for just anyone.

But for Y/N?

She was different.

The timer went off, pulling him from his thoughts. He slipped on heat-resistant gloves and carefully pulled out the cake, its golden surface soft and perfect.

There was no hesitation as he set it down, letting it cool before moving on to the finishing touches.

A delicate glaze, smooth frosting, and intricate decorations placed with precise care.

By the time he finished, the cake was nothing short of a masterpiece.

The table was set. The pastries plated. And beside them, a neatly wrapped gift.

Now, all that was left was for her to arrive.

Meanwhile…

Something was definitely going on.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at Phainon, who was suspiciously energetic today.

“Okay, Phainon. Spill.”

Phainon blinked at her, the very picture of innocence.

“Spill what?” he asked.

Y/N crossed her arms. “You never just ask me to ‘take a walk’ with you. Ever.”

Phainon placed a hand over his chest, looking dramatically offended.

“Wow. You really think so little of me?”

“Yes.”

“That hurts, Y/N. Truly.”

She deadpanned. “Phainon.”

Phainon sighed, clearly amused.

“Alright, alright. Maybe I am stalling,” he admitted, walking ahead of her. “But trust me, it’s for a good reason.”

Y/N raised a brow. “What kind of reason?”

Phainon only smirked. “You’ll see.”

She frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

“It is if you stop asking questions.”

Y/N groaned, but reluctantly followed him.

Whatever he was up to, she had a feeling it involved a certain golden-eyed prince.

By the time Phainon finally led her back, Y/N wasn’t sure what she expected.

But this?

This was beyond anything she could have imagined.

The moment she stepped into the room, the scent of freshly baked pastries and warm vanilla wrapped around her like a comforting embrace.

And in the center of the room, there it was.

A beautifully set-up table.

A cake, decorated with meticulous detail.

A plate of her favorite pastries.

And next to them…

A carefully wrapped gift.

Her breath hitched.

“Mydei…?”

He stood beside the table, arms crossed, his expression calm and composed— but she noticed the faint pink dusting his ears.

“Happy birthday,” he said simply.

Y/N blinked.

Slowly, she turned to Phainon.

“You were keeping me busy so he could set this up.”

Phainon grinned. “Guilty.”

She turned back to Mydei.

“You did all this?”

He shrugged, looking off to the side. “It’s not that hard.”

Her heart swelled.

It wasn’t just the cake.

It was the effort. The time he put into this. The way he remembered the small details—her favorite flavors, the kind of pastries she liked, even the fact that she never made a big deal about her birthday.

He did all this for her.

Before she could stop herself, she took a step forward—then another—until she was close enough to wrap her arms around him.

A warm, tight embrace.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She felt him stiffen slightly, clearly caught off guard.

But after a second, he relaxed.

“…You’re welcome,” he said softly.

Her arms lingered around him before she finally pulled away, smiling.

Phainon was watching with far too much amusement.

She turned toward phainon and thanked him as well.

Mydei picked up the gift and handed it to her.

She unwrapped it carefully, fingers moving with curiosity.

And when she finally revealed what was inside—

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was a necklace.

Sleek, beautifully crafted, with a design that was unmistakably personal.

It wasn’t just any necklace.

It was made for her.

She turned to him, eyes wide. “You… designed this?”

He nodded. “Had it commissioned. Took some time.”

Y/N traced the engravings carefully, touched beyond words.

Then, without thinking, she turned back to him—

—and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Mydei froze.

For the first time, he had no words.

And when she pulled away, she grinned.

“Best birthday ever,” she whispered.

Phainon, in the background, was already taking pictures.

_______________________________________

Since it's my birthday today, I figured why not write some birthday fics ♡

Can't wait to pull mydei ♡

[calebsluvr]

is there something more? ᯓ ✈︎ xia yizhou x f!reader ᯓ ✈︎ with the gestures he makes to (only) you, is it really just friendly gestures that he makes? or is there something more? ᯓ ✈︎ 508 words

it had been years since i last saw lily, but we picked up right where we left off as though no time had passed. sitting across from her at a small café, i couldn’t help but smile. all felt like a slice of the past coming back to life.

“so,” she said, sipping her coffee, her eyes glinting with mischief, “are you and caleb dating now?”

i nearly choked on my chai. “what? no! where did you get that idea?” i asked, my voice a mix of confusion and surprise.

her brow rose but nonetheless, she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms with that teasing look of hers, as if she knew something i didn’t. “well, i mean, come on. all those little and big things he did for you back in high school? he was practically in love with you. i wouldn’t be surprised if he still does.”

i shook my head, your heart hammering underneath your sternum. “we’re just friends, he wouldn’t like me like that.”

she smiled, almost sympathetically. “you really don’t see it, do you?” she says as she leans forward.

“when you weren’t looking, his gaze was always locked on you, observing what you were going to do.  oh, oh! remember that time you told me you had to fix your project last minute? and he stayed up all night helping you re-do it!.” before you could reply to her, she continued.

“don’t forget that time a random guy bumped into you and started yelling at you when you were stressed enough. well, you did pass out in the hall after arguing. but! when caleb got wind of what happened; he beat the shit out of him after he put you to the infirmary, pinned him to the floor punching him like there was no tomorrow. the whole shabang!”

i blinked. If she was listing the things that were obvious, what things did he do that weren’t? her words sinking in slowly, like pieces of a puzzle I’d never bothered to complete. to be honest you never did think of caleb as just a friend, but there was this thing in your gut that pulled you back from coming forward with how you truly felt about him. now, those little gestures seemed… more.

“and don’t get me started on our banquet after graduation,” lily added with a grin. “even though all the girls who had dates; they were trying to get him to dance with them, he rejected them all the while he was looking at you. with hearts in his eyes.”

i felt my face flush. i had always chalked those moments up to caleb just being a good friend. the way he seemed to go out of his way just for me— it was starting to feel like something deeper, something I’d completely overlooked.

i sat back, stunned. i swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a little out of breath. i thought about caleb, about everything he’d done for me over the years. was i the one who missed the signs?

comments and reblogs are most appreciated (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[mangilingo]

Unwelcome familiarity

(Part 2)

Summary- The reader and Luigi grow distant after their argument, but when she sees him with another girl, jealousy forces her to finally admit she doesn’t want him with anyone else.

.・゜゜・ ✧༺♥༻∞ ・゜゜・．

The air between you and Luigi is thick, weighed down by everything unspoken. His hand is still wrapped around yours, warm and steady, but your pulse is racing too fast for you to focus on anything except the tension between you.

Rachel and I… we’re just friends.

The words should be enough, but they aren’t. Because if they were, you wouldn’t have felt your stomach twist at the sight of them together. You wouldn’t have spent the last few days trying—and failing—to pretend it didn’t bother you.

You pull your hand away, slow and deliberate. “Then why does it feel like you wanted me to see that?”

Luigi’s brows knit together. “What?”

“That picture,” you say, trying to keep your voice even. “Rachel. All of it. Did you want me to get jealous? Because if that was your plan, congratulations, it worked.”

Luigi exhales sharply, shaking his head. “That’s not fair. You’re the one who’s been keeping me at arm’s length. What was I supposed to do? Sit around and wait for you to make up your mind?”

Your jaw clenches. “I never asked you to wait.”

“But you want me to,” he fires back, eyes dark with frustration. “You don’t want me to move on, but you won’t let me in either. Do you even know what you want, or are you just stringing me along?”

His words strike like a slap, and for a second, all you can do is sit there, stunned. The worst part? He’s right. You don’t know what you want—not entirely.

But you do know this: the idea of him with someone else makes you sick.

“Maybe I don’t know what I want,” you admit, your voice quieter but no less sharp. “But that doesn’t mean you get to use Rachel to—”

“I’m not using her,” Luigi interrupts, exasperation seeping into his tone. “She’s a friend. That’s it. And if you actually trusted me, you’d know that.”

The accusation stings. “Trusted you? You’re the one who never takes anything seriously! How am I supposed to trust someone who hides behind jokes every time things get real?”

Luigi’s expression hardens. “And you’re the one who runs the second things get difficult. You keep acting like you don’t care, like I don’t matter, and I let you. Every damn time, I let you. But I can’t keep doing this anymore, not if you’re never going to choose me.”

The words hit deeper than they should. Your chest tightens, and suddenly, you can’t breathe.

Because this is it. The breaking point.

Luigi stands up, his chair scraping against the floor. His jaw is clenched, his hands curled into fists at his sides. He looks at you like he’s waiting for something—waiting for you to stop him.

But you don’t. You can’t.

His gaze lingers on you for a second longer before he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Let me know when you figure out what you want.”

And then, just like that, he walks away.

Leaving you alone with the mess you’ve made.

Luigi doesn’t text you. He doesn’t call. He doesn’t even glance in your direction when you pass each other on campus.

And it’s killing you.

The weight of his absence is heavier than you expected, settling deep in your chest like a dull ache that won’t fade. You told yourself space was what you needed—that this tension between you would burn itself out if you ignored it long enough. But instead, it lingers, growing worse with every moment he stays away.

Your brother notices first.

“You and Luigi fighting?” he asks one evening, leaning against the counter as you push your dinner around your plate.

You tense. “Why would you think that?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Because I haven’t seen him around lately. And because you look like someone ran over your dog.”

You roll your eyes, shoving a bite of food into your mouth to avoid answering.

Your brother doesn’t let up. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but you two have always been close. If something’s wrong, maybe you should just talk to him.

Talk to him. As if it were that simple.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you mutter, setting your fork down.

Your brother sighs, crossing his arms. “You know, for two people who spend most of their time arguing, you and Luigi really suck at actually talking.”

You glare at him, but he just shrugs. “Just saying.”

You tell yourself you won’t think about it.

But a few nights later, when you find yourself in the library again—alone, exhausted, and staring at a textbook without actually reading it—you feel the weight of it press harder on your chest.

Luigi used to be here. Even when he was annoying, even when he teased you endlessly, he was there. Filling the space beside you, nudging your foot under the table, tossing pencils at your head when you got too serious.

Now, there’s only silence.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to focus. You have an exam in two days, and feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to change anything. But just as you start scribbling notes, a familiar voice drifts from the other side of the library.

Luigi.

You freeze.

Against your better judgment, your gaze flickers toward the source of the sound. He’s sitting at a table near the windows, leaned back in his chair, talking to someone.

Rachel.

Your stomach twists.

She laughs at something he says, leaning in just a little too close, her hand grazing his arm. He doesn’t pull away.

You don’t realize how hard you’re gripping your pen until it snaps in half.

Mia, who had taken a seat across from you not long ago, follows your gaze and winces. “Yikes.”

You inhale sharply, forcing yourself to look away. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.

But it does.

It matters more than you want to admit.

“I need some air,” you mumble, shoving your books into your bag before Mia can say anything.

You leave without looking back.

The cool night air does little to settle the storm in your chest. You pace outside the library, hands shoved into your pockets, heart hammering as you replay the scene over and over in your mind.

It doesn’t mean anything. He said she was just a friend. He told you—

But that was before. Before the argument. Before you pushed him away. Before you made him think you didn’t care.

Maybe he got tired of waiting.

A lump rises in your throat. You blink hard, tilting your head back to stare at the sky, willing the feeling away.

You don’t know how long you stand there, but suddenly, footsteps sound behind you.

You don’t have to turn to know who it is.

Luigi stops a few feet away, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets. He doesn’t speak right away, and for a moment, neither do you.

The silence between you is thick, heavier than ever.

Finally, he exhales. “You left in a hurry.”

You swallow. “I needed some air.”

He nods slowly, like he doesn’t quite believe you. “Mia said you looked upset.”

You force a hollow laugh. “And you care?”

His jaw tightens. “I always care.”

The words hit harder than they should.

You shake your head, looking away. “Doesn’t seem like it. You’ve been doing fine without me.”

Luigi studies you for a moment. Then, his voice drops, quieter. “Are you jealous?”

You freeze.

A sharp, bitter laugh escapes before you can stop it. “Are you serious right now?”

He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t look away. “Just answer the question.”

You clench your fists. “No.”

“Liar.”

You glare at him. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. You said you weren’t going to wait forever, remember?”

Luigi’s eyes darken. “So that’s what this is about?” He steps closer, and suddenly, there’s barely any space between you. “You pushed me away. You chose this distance. And now, what? You see me with someone else, and suddenly you don’t like it?”

Your breath catches. “I never wanted you with someone else.”

“Then say it.” His voice is low, almost desperate. “Say you don’t want me with her. Say you—”

“I don’t want you with her!”

The words tear out of you before you can stop them. The second they’re out, you realize there’s no taking them back.

Silence.

Luigi just stares at you, his breathing uneven, his expression unreadable. The weight of your confession lingers in the air between you, heavy and electric.

You’ve never felt more exposed in your life.

And then, after what feels like an eternity, Luigi exhales, running a hand through his hair. A slow, almost disbelieving smirk tugs at his lips.

“Finally,” he murmurs.

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “Shut up.”

But before you can say anything else, before you can even think about running away from this, Luigi steps even closer, until there’s barely an inch between you.

His voice drops lower, his gaze locked onto yours.

“Say it again.”

Your heart stutters. “What?”

He smirks, but there’s something softer in his eyes now—something real. “Say you don’t want me with her.”

You swallow hard. Your pulse is racing, your entire body tense, but when you open your mouth, the words come easier this time.

“I don’t want you with her,” you whisper.

Luigi’s smirk fades, replaced by something deeper. His hand lifts slightly, like he’s about to reach for you—but at the last second, he hesitates.

Like he’s waiting.

Like you have to be the one to close the distance this time.

And for the first time, you think you just might.

[bambieyedoll]

⋆·˚ ༘ * PAUL LAHOTE HEADCANNONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 you’re friends with the cullens

when paul first imprinted on you, he thought he had finally found the one thing in his life that made sense.

you grounded him, soothed the constant fire under his skin.

but then, reality came crashing down.

you weren’t just any girl—you were someone deeply entwined with the cullens, the very creatures he had been raised to hate.

it felt like a cruel twist of fate, like the universe was testing him in the most painful way possible.

paul’s need to protect you was overwhelming, but in his mind, the biggest threat to your safety was the very people you considered family.

it killed him inside.

he couldn’t understand why you trusted them, why you insisted they were harmless when he knew exactly what they were capable of.

every time he thought about you being alone with them, something inside him snapped.

paul was never good at controlling his temper, but around the cullens, it was even worse.

he would stiffen the second he caught their scent lingering on you, his hands balling into fists as he fought the urge to phase right then and there.

the other wolves would have to talk him down constantly.

sam made it very clear that he couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him, especially when it came to you.

you could tell him a thousand times that the cullens would never hurt you, and he still wouldn’t believe it.

to him, they were predators, unnatural beings who had no business being around a human—especially his human.

it frustrated him to no end that you defended them, that you insisted they were different.

no matter how much he loved you, he couldn’t shake the instinctive distrust he had for them.

he tried, though. for you.

it wasn’t until the night you almost got into a terrible accident that he started to change his mind.

it was late, darker than usual, and you were walking home alone from the grocery shop.

paul had told you countless times that no matter what, you could always call him. but you didn’t want to bother him. besides, the streets looked empty and quiet.

you were crossing the street when suddenly, a car—swerving, reckless, and fast—came out of nowhere.

you barely had time to react before something blurred into existence in front of you.

one second you were about to get hit, and the next? you were on the sidewalk, unharmed, with edward standing in front of you.

turns out, edward was going back home from visiting bella. thankfully, he had heard the vehicle and recognized your scent.

when paul found out, he was livid.

not at you—never at you—but at the fact that something happened and he wasn’t there to stop it.

“are you serious, y/n?!”

“paul, look at me, i’m fine—”

“you could’ve been killed! or—or worse! and i wasn’t there! i told you to call me, why didn’t you call me?!”

“paul—”

“and he was the one who saved you?!”

he was shaking, fists clenched, body burning with anger—not at you, but at the whole situation. at himself.

“paul,” you grabbed his hands, grounding him. “i should have called you, i’m really sorry i didn’t. i know you hate them but he saved me… i’m fine, thanks to him.”

his jaw clenched, breath unsteady. “it should’ve been me.”

“but i’m safe, aren’t i?”

he exhaled sharply, pulling you against his chest, his entire body trembling. because you were right, you were safe, thanks to one of them.

and that’s when he realized something awful: he owed the cullens.

paul hated the idea of thanking them. it made his skin crawl. but one of them did saved you. —you, the most important person and best thing that ever happened to him.

so, he marched up to the cullens’ house, practically vibrating with restrained aggression.

edward and emmett were already waiting outside. they knew he was coming.

paul stood there for a little while, arms crossed, before he started. “alright, listen” he exhaled sharply. “i don’t like you and i don’t trust you.”

emmett grinned at his choice of words but continued listening.

“but you did saved her… and— and i can’t ever repay you for that,” he uncrossed his arms and sighed. “thank you.”

paul looked at them while edward and emmett exchanged knowing looks. they understood where paul was coming from about his distrust. couldn’t blame him.

“she’s family to us.” emmett stated.

“we’ll always protect her.” edward reassured paul.

paul’s gaze remained on them for a while, almost as if he was debating the sincerity of their words.

eventually, he nodded and turned to disappear between the trees. he may not fully trust them yet but they had earned something close to his respect that night.

even though now paul knows the cullens won’t hurt you, he still watches them like a hawk whenever you’re around them.

he still grumbled about the cullens but didn’t immediately start a fight when their names came up.

that was something.

paul was suspicious of alice—she always knew things, and that creeped him out. so when he caught you two whispering? yeah, he was not thrilled.

“what are you guys whispering about?” paul asked, arms crossed.

alice just smirked. “it’s a secret, lahote.”

he scowled. “i don’t like that.”

you laughed. “relax, paul.”

“no, because every time she talks to you, weird things happen.”

alice winked. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

“i swear to god, y/n, if you don’t tell me—”

you smiled. “she may or may not have seen our wedding…”

paul’s brain stopped working right there and then.

“oh… oh.”

no matter how much time paul spent around them without an incident , the jealousy always came back.

it drove paul insane that the cullens got to be around you more often than he did.

while he was stuck patrolling the reservation, they had free rein to be with you at school, to take you on trips, to share moments with you that he could never be part of.

the thought of you growing closer to them—of them becoming an even bigger part of your life—made his blood boil.

he was extremely possessive because of that.

paul was already naturally possessive, but your friendship with the cullens turned that possessiveness into something almost unbearable.

he needed to remind himself constantly that you were his, that no matter how much time you spent with them, the imprint tied you to him.

but that didn’t stop the jealousy from creeping in, nor did it stop him from wanting to keep you as far away from them as possible.

if paul had it his way, you’d never hang out with the cullens.

but since you insisted on spending time with them, he found ways to steal you away mid-hangout.

“you just got here,” alice sighed as paul dragged you away.

“yeah, well, i haven’t seen her all day,” paul grumbled.

you giggled. “paul, baby, you saw me this morning.”

“and now it’s afternoon,” he argued.

he always comes up with some excuse to pull you away—whether it’s “you promised to go on a walk with me” or “i need help with something”

you love it, though. even when he’s ridiculous about it.

one night, while you were telling him about your day, you accidentally mentioned something jasper had done at school that made you laugh.

“it was so cute!” you muse absentmindedly.

silence.

you turn to look at paul, who is staring straight ahead, his jaw tight.

“paul?”

more silence.

“oh god, are you pouting?”

“no.”

“paul.”

he huffs. “i just don’t appreciate those kind of comments about other men when your amazing boyfriend is sitting right here.”

you laugh, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “you’re the cutest, i promise.”

he tries to stay mad, but you know he’s already melting. “damn right, i am.”

if you ever came back from the cullens’ house smelling like them, paul would immediately pull you into his arms, burying his face in your neck as if his scent alone could erase theirs.

he’d grumble under his breath, muttering about how he couldn’t stand it, how he didn’t understand why you wasted your time with them.

the only thing that calmed him down was your reassurance, the way you softly reminded him that you belonged to him, not them.

paul hates showing weakness around the cullens.

he thinks if they see how soft he is for you, they’ll use it against him somehow.

but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t help it.

“baby, you have something on your face,” you giggled, wiping some food off his cheek.

paul leaned into your touch without thinking. “mmh.”

jasper raised a brow. “now, that’s unexpected.”

paul snapped out of it, scowling. “shut up, leech.”

“don’t mind us,” rosalie smirked. “we love seeing the big bad wolf turn into a puppy.”

he hated it. but he never actually stopped letting you baby him in front of them.

the pack never let him live it down.

the other wolves found so much entertainment in his suffering.

they loved to tease him about how his imprint, of all people, had ended up being best friends with the leeches.

jacob, especially, made a habit of reminding him at every opportunity.

the fact that the universe decided he—the most aggressive, vampire-hating wolf—would imprint on you, a girl best friends with vampires? hilarious.

paul would just grit his teeth and try to tune them out, but deep down, it messed with him.

he would drop everything if you ever needed him.

no matter how much he disliked the cullens, no matter how much he disliked your connection to them, none of that mattered when it came to you.

if you ever called him, if you ever needed him, he would be there immediately.

it didn’t matter if you were at the cullens’ house, or if he had to run across the entire forest to get to you—he would always come.

he would never ask you to choose between them and him because, deep down, he was terrified of what your answer might be.

he could handle a lot of things, but the thought of you walking away from him? that was the one thing he couldn’t survive.

one night, you were both laying down in your bed, ready to sleep but you were deep in thought.

you looked up at paul who was holding you safe and warm in his arms.

you admired his facial features and how relaxed he looked. but still, something bothered you. the feeling that something had been left without being said.

“paul?” you mumbled softly.

“mmh?”

“you know i’d never put anyone else before you, right?” you said softly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it made paul freeze and he looked down at you.

and oh— his eyes. he looked like he wasn’t expecting that at all. like you had just told him something completely out of your mind and that crushed you.

“you— you wouldn’t?” paul asked you.

“well, of course, baby.” you said as you looked up at him with that sweet smile of yours. “i thought you already knew that.”

paul’s eyes burned into yours in complete devotion. his chest burned with love and he held you tight against him.

he felt complete. no doubt. because he felt it too.

all your sincerity. your love for each other. the bond you two had. unbreakable.

at the end of the day, sure, he grumbled, got jealous, and hated them on principle—but he loved you.

and if they made you happy, then he could deal with that.

[cjowoart]

Offerings pt.10:

-------------------------------------

Gale had been well aware of Lae’zel’s sudden and increased interest in him, even with the rather distracting presence of a certain elven vampire. He had worried that he had done something to gravely offend her, attracting her scorn. At least, that was what he had assumed. So now, finding himself alone with her at camp, his nerves were slightly on edge.

In an effort to avoid further provoking her, he had deliberately kept his distance, refraining from watching her too closely. But in doing so, he had also made it easier for her to creep up on him.

Without warning, Lae’zel seized his face with both hands, prying his mouth open with an almost clinical precision as she examined the inside of it. Her expression shifted from curiosity to disappointment.

“No fangs,” she muttered.

Gale jolted back, coughing and spitting as he swiped at his lips in sheer indignation. “Why in the world would I have fangs?”

“K’chakhi,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes as if it should have been obvious. “Your union with the vampire.”

“Union?” His voice pitched in disbelief. “Does everyone—”

“I thought a vampire’s strength might improve you.” She spoke as if thinking aloud, not bothering to elaborate. “Even if it meant you would become his vin’isk.”

“Vin’isk?” Gale repeated warily. “Wait, what do you mean ‘improve’?”

She huffed, clearly impatient with his lack of understanding. “Vin’isk… a revrykal… underling.”

“A vampire spawn?”

“Precisely.”

Gale’s brows shot up in disbelief. “Astarion is a vampire spawn. He’s someone else’s rev-ree-kall.” He fumbled through the unfamiliar Gith word, completely mangling the pronunciation.

“Yes… the Cazador he spoke of with the devil. I remember now,” she mused. “A shame. So he cannot improve you, then?”

Gale blinked at her, still trying to make sense of what she was implying. “What do you mean ‘improve’?”

“You fall easily in battle and have no…” Lae’zel trailed off, searching for the right word. “Durability.”

“You thought becoming a spawn would improve my durability?” Gale asked, exasperated. “What part exactly? Being a slave to a master and bloodlust? Or needing to avoid the sun for eternity once the tadpoles are removed?”

“He's right,” Astarion’s voice came from behind him, making Gale’s chest tighten. “I wouldn't wish this existence on anyone.”

Gale turned to see the elf standing there, flanked by Karlach, Shadowheart, and Wyll. “Astarion—”

Before he could say anything else, Astarion turned on his heel and strode off toward his tent. Gale did not hesitate before following him. To the hells with what everyone else thought or what they were already assuming about them. He needed to follow him. By the time Gale ducked inside, the vampire had already thrown his leather jerkin aside, slumping down into his cushions.

“You didn’t say anything wrong, Gale,” Astarion mumbled, rolling onto his side to face away.

“But you're upset.”

“I’m fine. You were right.”

“I know.” Gale knelt beside him, unsure if he could reach Astarion in this melancholic state. “I wish I wasn’t.”

“So I wouldn't be a ‘slave to my bloodlust’?” Astarion’s voice was flat, unreadable.

“So you wouldn’t be tied to Cazador.” Gale corrected him gently. Astarion turned back to look at him slightly. “So you could enjoy the sun without fear of turning into a mindflayer.”

“I could have both those things.” Astarion hesitated, his voice quieter now. “Raphael told me about a ritual that Cazador is planning to perform. It’s why he carved those scars into my back. If I perform it instead, I won’t need the tadpole to walk in the sun. I won’t need blood. I’ll be free of Cazador.”

“What kind of ritual?”

“It’s not important,” Astarion brushed him off.

“Of course it is,” Gale snapped, his frustration boiling over. “Something that powerful always comes at a great cost.”

Astarion exhaled sharply. “Seven thousand vampiric souls.”

Gale stared at him. “What?”

“The ritual sacrifices seven thousand vampire spawn to the archdevil Mephistopheles.” Astarion’s voice was carefully measured, but he refused to meet Gale’s eyes. “Cazador intended for me to be one of them, but now I am here.”

“And you're okay with sacrificing seven thousand people—”

“Spawn,” Astarion corrected him.

“Souls,” Gale emphasized. “For you to claim the power for yourself?”

"They're not innocent souls," Astarion argued, his voice tight with frustration. He knew this, believed it, yet the look on Gale's face made something uneasy stir in his chest.

Gale shook his head, the weight of his disappointment clear. "I can’t support this decision."

Astarion's expression hardened. "Fuck you," he snapped.

Gale tensed but didn't rise to the anger. He exhaled, the fight leaving his body as he studied Astarion’s face. "I don't think you should take Cazador's place in the ritual," he said, softer now but no less firm. "I don’t think you really want to, either."

Astarion let out a bitter laugh. "What else would I have?"

"Me."

The word landed like a stone between them. Astarion opened his mouth, then shut it again, something unreadable flickering across his features. He swallowed. "At night, maybe," he muttered. "In the shadows of Baldur’s Gate. Never in the sun."

"I'd spend a lifetime under the stars with you."

Astarion’s head snapped up, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. Gale had said it so smoothly, without hesitation, without calculation. Astarion should have been the one to say something like that. A pretty line, meant to seduce, to lull, to lower defenses.

Except it had worked on him.

The thought unsettled him in a way he hadn’t felt in two hundred years. That old, nagging instinct—the one that viewed every interaction through the lens of survival—whispered in his mind. Wouldn't a line like that be perfect to lure unsuspecting prey? To make them trust?

But Gale wasn’t prey. And Astarion wasn’t hunting him.

[mymoodwriting]

Request for Anon (Vampire!TBZ) 7.1k, vampires, high school setting, jealousy, secrets, espionage, manipulation, blood, fangs, violence, supernatural abilities, kidnapping, implied torture, temporary character death (@starillusion13)

“I don’t like the new transfer student.”

“Eric… you haven’t even met them, no one has.”

“And yet they’re already bothering you.”

“They’re in our class, Eric, and I’m class president. Part of my responsibilities is helping students, especially new ones. You don’t have to come along.”

“Yes I do.”

“You’re not my VP.”

“I could be.”

“Not with your grades, Eric.”

Earlier that morning your homeroom teacher had informed you about a new transfer student joining your class. They asked if you could go up to the teacher’s office and welcome them, as well as show them around and help the get situated. Of course you agreed, but as soon as you were out the door Eric was right behind you. The two of you had been best friends for years now, and he had a tendency to follow you wherever you went. When you got to the teacher’s office you saw a boy waiting outside. You put on your best smile and walked up to them, holding out your hand.

“You must be the new transfer student. Welcome, my name is y/n, your class president. I’m here to show you around and help you with anything you might need.”

“Oh, thank you.” The boy shook your hand. “My name is Hyunjae, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And I’m Eric.”

“Yes, this is one of your classmates. He tagged along to meet you. Shall I show you around your new school.”

“I’d like that.”

You happily showed Hyunjae around the school, pointing out where classes were and other important locations. Eric added colorful commentary, and you kept having to give him looks so he’d behave. Once the first bell rang you all returned to your homeroom, Hyunjae properly introducing himself to the rest of the class. From there the things went on as usual, and he seemed prepared. Although you did take a moment in between classes to let him know he could come to you with help for anything.

“You didn’t need to tell him that.”

“Eric, he’s the new student, and what I said applies to everyone. It’s my duty as class president.”

“Ah, so you’ll help me with my homework?”

“I already do that.”

“As my friend, not as the class president. I wonder what she’s like.”

“Strict. You wouldn’t survive her. So count yourself lucky.”

“I suppose I am. Just promise me you won’t tutor that new guy without me there.”

“What is your problem with him?”

“I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Do you need to vet everyone around me?”

“Of course! You’re a brilliant woman with a bright future ahead of you. I can’t allow just anyone to be your friend. What if they take advantage of you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “What about you?”

“I’ve been your friend for years, you know me. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

“You better keep your word.”

Eric was always weary of new people around you until he got to know them and was sure they were good people. During free period Eric went out to play soccer with some classmates. He excused himself to use the restroom. As he was about to walk in he saw Hyunjae on the phone and quickly hid himself. No one else seemed to be around so he carefully creeped closer to listen in.

“I’m settling in just fine, so you don’t have to worry… I already found my target, they basically walked into my life… yeah, although I might have a bit of a problem… it’s just this other person that seems glued to their side… I’ll take care of it and keep an eye on the target… I’ll keep you updated.”

Eric couldn’t believe what he was hearing, immediately worrying about you. Whoever this new transfer student was, he was bad news, and you seemed to be in danger. Eric quickly ran off trying to find you. He thought you might be in the homeroom, but that wasn’t the case. His classmates didn't know where you were either so he ran around the school looking for you until someone told him you were outside in the bleachers. He made his way over as fast as possible, although when he reached you he needed a second to catch his breath.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Eric had doubled over for a moment before looking up. Just as he was told you were sitting on the bleachers outside, but what he failed to notice was that you weren’t alone. Hyunjae was at your side, glancing over but focusing on the book in his hands.

“Yes, Eric? What is it? If you were running around looking for me it must be important.”

“It is… just… can I talk to you alone?”

“Sure. Excuse me for a moment, Hyunjae.”

“Of course.”

You stepped down to meet Eric who grabbed your arm and pulled you away. You went a long with it but we're very confused.

“Is everything okay, Eric?”

“Why are you with Hyunjae?”

“He asked for help with some of the material. Now what-”

“You said you wouldn’t be alone with him.”

“Eric I promised no such thing, now tell me what’s going on.”

“Okay, I need you to listen to me, like really listen.”

“Eric-”

“The new transfer is bad news. I overheard him talking about finding his target at school and how he’d report on them and-”

“Eric, do you hear yourself?”

“I’m being serious! I heard all of this and-”

“Were you spying on him so you could find something? What if he was talking to his parents?”

“You’re in danger, y/n, stay away from him.”

“Eric… are you jealous?”

“What? No, this has-”

“It’s kinda cute, but regardless, I can’t just stay away from a classmate. So relax, nothing bad is gonna happen, okay?”

“But-”

“Eric, please.”

“Fine… fine…”

“Thank you.”

Eric watches you go back to Hyunjae, and he couldn’t help but glare. If you weren’t gonna stay away from him then he needed to change tactics. When the bell rang everyone returned to the classroom. Usually Eric sat next to you, but he grabbed his things and plopped himself down next to Hyunjae. The boy watched him curiously, but Eric only met his eyes and gave him a hard look.

“I’m on to you.”

“Uh, okay… whatever.”

Eric figured the only way he could keep Hyunjae away from you was to do it himself. So despite being suspicious, he decided to befriend the transfer student. He acted friendly and offered to introduce him to other students and hang out with him in between classes. For the most part his plan seemed to work, that is until homework was involved. He wasn’t as smart and couldn’t really answer his questions. In that case he asked the class president for help, but Eric was always there to make sure nothing else besides studying happened.

🖤

“How do you think you did on the test?”

“Don’t remind me.” Eric whined. “I don’t want to think about it until the results are out.”

“Alright, but you better not try to lie to me about your grades.”

“I bet you got the top score.”

“Don’t say ridiculous things.”

“But you always do.”

“Still.”

You tended to stay late after school for studying, and Eric stayed with you to keep you company. Also because you lived in the same apartment complex so it was nice to walk home together at the end of the day. Although this time around something happened that he wasn’t happy about.

“Oh, Hyunjae, what are you doing here?”

As you both got to your apartment you noticed Hyunjae walking towards the entrance with a box in hand. He seemed surprised to see you both as well.

“Y/n, Eric, what a surprise. Uh, well, I’m moving into this apartment complex. It’s close to school and my family approved, saying it was good for me.”

“Wow, what a coincidence. We live here too.”

“Really? I was looking at a few places and this one just seemed the best. I’m glad I chose it.”

“I guess we’ll be seeing more of each other now.”

“ I suppose so. I’m still moving in so I’ll let you go. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

You started walking towards the door but Eric was still stuck in place. He could not believe what he had just heard. 

“Eric… Eric!”

After getting no response you went over and grabbed Eric’s arm, dragging him inside. He seemed completely frozen until you got into the elevator and the doors shut. Then he leaned back against the wall.

“What the fuck… out of all the places…”

“What is it now?”

“Why did he choose here?”

You chuckled. “You really are jealous of another guy being around me, aren’t you?”

“It’s not that!”

“If you say so.”

You reached your floor and wished Eric a good night, telling him to stop worrying about others and go to sleep. That was easier said than done, but after some restless pacing he felt tired. This wouldn’t be too much of a problem. He was still near you and could keep doing his job to keep Hyunjae away from you, he just now needed to do it after school too. That might be exhausting but he had to wait and see how things played out. Come morning he realized he had forgotten about another issue. When he stepped out of the apartment he saw you and Hyunjae waiting for him at the front of the building. Of course you both walked together every morning too, and it seemed that someone new would be joining. Eric made sure to stay in the middle, despite Hyunjae talking the whole way to school.

“What’s the area around here like?”

“Peaceful.” You answered. “There’s nothing much to worry about.”

“Cool. I see I really did make a good choice.”

“Yeah, and we can all walk to school together and-”

“You know there’s a nice snack stand on the way to school.” Eric cut in. “How about we get some for breakfast, my threat.”

Eric certainly did not want to wait around and walk home with him, so he had to make sure that didn’t come up. Or else it might end with plans being made, and he wasn’t eager for this trio to hang out. When you got to school though you parted ways as you had class president things to take care of, so Eric and Hyunjae made it to class together. They sat down and got their things, although Eric wound up staring at his desk mate for a moment, trying to figure out what to do now. It was annoying, and felt kinda suspicious, that he now lived in the same apartment building as you.

“What?”

“I don’t like you.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve made that rather clear.”

“Huh?”

“The fake friendliness and all that. I don’t care either way, it doesn’t change anything. So let’s just keep up the charade.”

“You-”

The bell rang and the homeroom teacher entered, cutting the conversation short. Eric just let it go for now anyway. He thought he had been doing a good job of keeping you safe, but this was gonna complicate things. If he went to you again you’d call him jealous and crazy, so he needed to gather some evidence to prove his point. He was wondering how he’d do that when he passed by an empty classroom and saw Hyunjae inside. He quickly hid himself and got close to the open door, peeking in to see Hyunjae on the phone.

“Everything has been quiet on my end, although I sense something is off… I can’t quite figure it out, but I’ll be cautious and report if anything comes up.”

This was what Eric needed. Twice now he had heard Hyunjae making mysterious phone calls, and he really didn’t think it was his parents. If he could steal Hyunjae’s phone he might be able to get some answers. The problem now was how he would accomplish this. So for the rest of the day he kept an eye on Hyunjae. Most students always kept their phone on them, but during free periods a lot of the guys put their phones away so they didn’t break them while playing, and Hyunjae was no exception. 

Eric saw him put his phone away and then told his friends he’d join them in a bit. He waited until all the other students were gone and then went to Hyunjae’s locker. Of course it was locked, but he knew of a way in. He checked his surroundings again and went over to your locker. He knew your code and also knew you had the master key in there too. He managed to retrieve it without issue and then opened Hyunjae’s locker. The phone he was looking for was right in front of it and he grabbed it. Although as he closed the door, about to lock it once more he was startled by a familiar voice.

“What are you doing?”

“Y/n…”

“Is that my master key? Why do you have it? Why are you-”

“Wait, listen, I can explain.”

“Eric, did you-”

“You got it.”

You turned around to see Hyunjae walking into the classroom, a smile on his face. He walked over and took his phone from Eric.

“Thanks.”

“Uh… Hyunjae, did you ask Eric to get your phone from your locker?” You questioned.

“Yeah. I kinda forgot my code and didn’t want to embarrass myself and tell the teacher, but Eric said he knew how to get into my locker without anyone knowing.”

“I see. So he wasn’t breaking in?”

“No, not at all. I’m sorry if that’s what you thought was happening.”

“If this happens again, you should let me know.” You turned back to Eric. “Instead of stealing my master key.”

“I was gonna put it back…” Eric mumbled. “If you hadn’t caught me you’d never know…”

“Still. What if a teacher caught you? Do you know how that would look on me?”

“I’m sorry…”

You sighed. “Look, I need you all to behave yourselves here, especially tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Hyunjae asked. “I don’t recall us having an exam or something?”

“The soccer team has their first big season game tomorrow. Therefore students from the opposing team will be at our school. I don’t want any kind of trouble from the students in my class, got it?”

“We’ll behave. Although I guess the best way to stay out of trouble is to stay in your sights. I’ll stay by your side tomorrow. I certainly don’t want to get in trouble.”

“I will too.” Eric quickly added. “I’ll be good.”

“You better.”

With that you excused yourself, taking back the master key, having other things to do during your free period. You had just been passing by when you saw what Eric was doing and had to confront him. Once you were gone Eric intended to go about his day but Hyunjae grabbed his arm.

“Don’t you have something to say to me?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, thanks.”

“Thanks? How about an explanation? Why were you trying to steal my phone?”

Eric scoffed. “I’ve said it before, I don’t like you, and I certainly don’t trust you. I know you’re hiding something, and you’re not really a student. If anything, I should be asking you why you didn’t rat me out.”

“I’m not here to cause trouble. Besides, the last thing I want to do is upset y/n.”

“She’s not your concern.”

“What? I can’t be nice and help you out of a bind?”

“We’re not exactly friends, are we?”

“You’re right. Which is why I did what I did for y/n’s benefit. You are welcome though, but if I ever catch you trying to steal my things again, I’ll make you pay.”

“Then I won’t get caught.”

Hyunjae rolled his eyes and made his exit. Eric may not have gotten his hands on the phone, but his own suspicions were confirmed. He couldn’t trust Hyunjae, and he had to make sure you didn’t get any closer to him. His only solace for the moment was that because of the game tomorrow, you’d be pretty busy. So the likeness of Hyunjae sticking close to you would actually be slim. It would be easy to volunteer himself to stick close to the transfer, and Hyunjae wouldn’t just ditch him since he’d get questioned if caught by you. Still, tomorrow was gonna be its own day with its own challenges.

🖤

“You’re up early.”

For the most part, Eric was the second one down in the morning, but with a new face around he figured it was best to be down as soon as possible so you didn’t wind up alone with Hyunjae. Of course as soon as he walked out he saw Hyunjae, but thankfully you weren’t around yet. He sighed and walked over, ignoring the comment.

“You must be excited for today. You’re not part of the team, but you do enjoy playing soccer.”

“We don’t have to talk.”

“True, oh, I did want to ask you something.” Hyunjae pulled out a box. “I got this cool necklace the other day, do you think y/n would like it?”

“No. She doesn’t wear jewelry. She’s not a fan of it.”

“Really? I thought all girls like jewelry.”

“Well she’s not like all girls.”

“Hm… well, can I give it to you?”

“I don’t want a necklace.”

“I figured I’d at least ask. I’ll still give it to y/n anyways then. I’m sure she can-”

Eric took the box before Hyunjae finished, not liking the idea of him giving you anything. Even if it was a simple necklace. He opened the box and saw a red teardrop necklace that looked more like a fang. It was nice, and he kinda felt bad that he wouldn’t let you have it.

“Here. Let me help.”

Hyunjae reached over and took the necklace, helping Eric put it on. He smiled and admired his work for a moment.

“It does look good on you.”

“Whatever.”

“Morning, guys!”

Eric heard you calling out to them and quickly hid the necklace under his shirt, putting the box in his pocket. He turned around and smiled at you, waving and greeting you. Just like always the three of you walked together, Eric making sure he was at the center. The morning would be normal, but after lunch that’s when the rival team would arrive. Some students were there to welcome them, and one of those was you. Of course Eric and Hyunjae were around to keep an eye on you. The visiting students would be out on the field warming up, while the home team would be inside. Most classes from there were cut short as everyone was urged to make time for the game and support the school team.

At some point along the way Eric lost track of Hyunjae, having no idea where he would go, but he was more concerned with finding you. He knew that as the class president you’d be outside near the visiting students, so he went off to go find you. Just like before you were on the bleachers, and Hyunjae was not around. He called out to you as he approached, then he was on the floor as a soccer ball hit in the face and knocked him off balance. Next thing he knew a few others and yourself were surrounding him, checking on him. You helped Eric up, seeing the blood dripping down his nose. Instinctively you used your jacket sleeve to clean him up a bit and got him onto his feet. You helped him over to where the water spouts near the field.

“I’m fine.” Eric assured. “I’ve been hit by soccer balls before.”

“Still. Gosh, I told you to stay out of trouble, but I guess trouble found you.”

“Right? Although it’s fine, I won’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

“I do need to get back, the game is gonna start soon.”

“Go on. I’m gonna wash up properly.”

“Text me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Eric watched you head back to the field and went back into the school. His nose had stopped bleeding, but he had a bit of blood on his shirt he wanted to try to wash out. As he made his way to the bathroom he ran into Hyunjae. He expected to hear some snarky remarks, but instead he was suddenly pinned to the wall, Hyunjae examining him in a rather frantic manner.

“What the hell happened to you? Who did this?”

“Woah, woah, I’m fine, get off.” Eric shoved Hyunjae away. “What’s your problem?”

“Tell me what happened.” Hyunjae grabbed Eric’s face. “Who made you bleed?”

“Dude, I said I’m fine. I just took a soccer ball to the face. It was an accident.”

“Did you see who did it? Was anyone else hurt?”

“I said it was an accident, so I don’t know who it was, and I don’t care. No one else got hit. Y/n just helped me clean up a bit.”

“Y/n… did she get blood on herself?”

“Uh, I think? I’m sure-”

“Fuck.”

“Huh?”

Hyunjae let Eric go and then ran off down the hall, leaving the other confused. Eric made it to the bathroom to do what he really intended, but he kept thinking back to that minor interrogation. Hyunjae was on edge about you, and it left an uneasy feeling in his gut. He cleaned his shirt a bit and then went out to find you himself. You weren’t out on the field as you should have been, and he asked some of your friends where you had gone. They didn’t really know, but one said they saw you heading inside to the gym, but the team had already come outside. Eric made his way over, walking into the gym and coming before an impossible sight.

“Please… please don’t hurt me…”

You were pinned to the wall with a hand around your throat, a student glaring down at you. A few others surrounded you as well. You weren’t sure what was happening, but the glowing red eyes that stared at you were frightening.

“You won’t be scared for long.”

“Y/n!” Eric yelled, getting everyone’s attention. “Let her go!”

Eric ran towards you, only to be grabbed and slammed to the floor by someone moving impossibly fast. He groaned and looked up to see a red eyed creature flash some fangs and keep him pinned.

“Stay out of this.”

“… what… are you…?”

“Hungry.”

“Let them go!”

Another voice boomed in the gym, and Eric managed to look over to see Hyunjae walking in. He tried to warn the other, but a hand was quickly around his throat cutting him off.

“This is your one chance to walk away.”

“And what does one of you think he can do to all of us?”

“Who said I’m alone?”

In a matter of moments more individuals appeared behind Hyunjae, none of them familiar to Eric or you. There was no telling what would happen next, but a fight was imminent. Before you knew it Hyunjae and his friends had glowing red eyes too and they moved to attack. You yelled and shut your eyes, not wanting to see anything. You still didn’t want to believe it. Eric managed to get free as the one holding him was attacked. He scrambled to his feet, wanting to get to you, but Hyunjae grabbed him and shoved him to a corner.

“Ya! You have to help y/n!”

“And you need to stay safe.”

A loud scream caught everyone’s attention. You yelled as you felt a deep sting in your neck, but it quickly died down as your vision got blurry and you felt a different sensation taking hold. When the creature ripped itself away from your neck it dropped you.

“This one isn’t the one we’re looking for.”

It wasn’t long before these hostile individuals were dealt with, although Eric still didn’t understand what was happening. He didn’t really care though. As soon as he had a chance he went over to your side, seeing the wound on your neck and placing a hand over it.

“Y/n? Y/n, can you hear me?”

“Hm… Eric…”

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be alright.”

“…”

“Eric, we need to talk.”

As Hyunjae stepped towards the both of you, Eric only pulled you closer into his embrace. Too much had happened too fast, and he didn’t know who to trust anymore.

“This is your fault! You-”

“Let me explain. I know you must have questions, but I swear I’m not the bad guy here.”

“… what are you? What is all this?”

“I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I’m a vampire. We’re real.”

“… vampire… and the others? The ones who attacked y/n?”

“They’re vampires too, from a different nest.”

“What were they doing here? Why are you here?”

“For the same reason. You.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Blood is a delicacy, and you’re on the rarer side.”

“Huh?”

“Your blood is special, it’s extremely rare, and many nests want it for themselves. It’s the sweetest thing we could ever taste, and it could make us more powerful, even if for a bit.”

“You… you want my blood?”

“I came here to find you, and protect you, nothing else.”

“So this whole time… I was your target…”

“Yes.”

“I… I don’t understand… why me… why-”

“We don’t really know why your blood is special, but my nest and I came across you a while ago. Your scent alerted us to who you were, and we knew you needed to be protected. We thought having one of us here with you would be enough so you could go about your life normally, but I’m afraid that’s not the case anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“If one nest found you, it’s likely another will, and if you stay here you’ll be putting your friends in danger.”

“You want me to leave? No, no way, I can’t just run off with some vampires! How do I know you won’t kill me or keep me around like some blood bag?”

“If we were gonna do that we would have kidnaped you ages ago instead of having me pretend to be a student.”

“I can’t just leave.”

“Eric… y/n was attacked because your blood, your scent, was on her. The other vampires thought she was the special one. I gave you that necklace this morning so it would mask your scent, but I didn’t think about other possibilities. I’m sorry.”

“So then… this is my fault?”

“No! No, that’s not what I’m saying. You didn’t choose this but… you have to make a choice now. If you stay, things could get worse.”

“And what if I go with you? What then?”

“As long as you’re human, you’re a target and in danger.” Another vampire walked over. “But if you become like us, your blood won’t be so special anymore.”

“You don’t just want me to leave school… you want me to leave my whole life behind…”

“The decision is still yours to make but…”

The other vampire knelt down before Eric and you, biting into his wrist and placing the wound against your lips. Blood dripped down your throat, and you unconsciously began to drink. After a moment the vampire pulled away his arm, and moved Eric’s hand from your neck. He saw the wound heal right before his eyes.

“What about her? What about… my life…”

“We can compel her to forget all of this, and make her believe you transferred schools. The same thing more or less for your family. You could still keep in touch with them, but visiting may be impossible for a while.”

“… vampire are immortal… aren’t they?”

“More or less.”

“Can I take her home?”

“I’ll have the others deal with the mess at school and then we’ll meet up with you.”

Eric and Hyunjae cleaned the blood off of you and the made the trip back to the apartment with two others in tow. You remained unconscious for the whole ordeal. Eric got you back to your place and set you down in bed. He took off your jacket and shoes, tucking you into bed and watching you for a bit while he held your hand.

“She won’t be mad at me… right?”

“We can make sure of it.”

“I’ll go with you guys, and no one else gets hurt?”

“No one should.”

“Alright.”

Eric stepped out of the room, finding some paper and a pen to leave you a note. He knew this was so sudden and would really shock you, but he didn’t want to see you get hurt again. When he finished he left the note by your bedside and then went with the others. He’d need to get all his things and move out, but with ten other helping hands he knew it’d be quick. He wished he could have properly said goodbye to you, but for your sake things had to go this way. All he could hope for was that he’d see you again one day.

🖤

The transfer was so sudden you still had trouble accepting it. One day Eric was here, and the next he was gone. Sure he left a note for you but you tried to call and text but got no response. It made you worry even though everything was likely fine. Your world just felt so different without him. Not to mention Hyunjae was gone too. You suddenly found yourself walking all alone to school and coming home by yourself too. You understood that things happened, but you just wanted to be sure everything was alright. 

For a while you kept trying Eric’s phone, but your messages were left unread and your calls went straight to voicemail. You figured he’d reach out when he had a chance, so you just had to be patient. School was still the same so you focused on that. Your life just became a lot quieter. The days kept passing by and you’d find things to keep you busy. One weekend you were cleaning your place and found your missing uniform jacket under your bed. You couldn’t remember where you had left it and now it seemed it got swept out of sight. You needed to do laundry so you figured you’d get to it today. You got your basket of dirty clothes and headed out. You didn’t have a washer or dryer at your place, but there was a laundromat a few blocks down. Although while on your way you got stopped by some guys.

“Well don’t you have an interesting scent.”

You didn’t answer and tried to move around them, but they wouldn’t let you leave. One of them suddenly grabbed something from your basket, taking a deep breath. It grossed you out and you were too nervous to reach back for your item.

“This is it… but it’s not you… who’s blood is this?”

“Uh…”

“Answer me.”

Glowing red eyes paralyzed you, making your head spin for a moment. Then you gazed at the article of clothing they were holding, seeing it was your school jacket, and noticing the stain on it. The answer to his question suddenly came to mind and slipped out of your mouth without hesitation.

“It’s Eric’s blood… he got hurt during game day…”

“And you know this Eric, yes?”

“He’s my friend…”

“And where is he now?”

“I… I don’t know… he transferred over a week ago… I haven’t heard from him since…”

“Hm… and if you were to go missing… do you think he’d come for you?”

“I… I don’t… I think so…”

“Good.”

🖤

“When can I see her again?”

“Once you’re ready.”

“And when is that?”

“When Sangyeon says so.”

“Ugh.”

Everything had been weird for Eric. To just uproot his entire life and run away with some vampires, it sounded crazy. It was, but he wanted to keep you and everyone he cared about safe. He had seen the danger around him first hand, and he didn’t want others getting hurt because of him. The best thing he could do was become one of the undead and hopefully go back home someday. The whole transformation was something else, but he had slowly been adjusting. 

“You know… if you were supposed to be looking after me, why did you get so close to y/n?”

“Still jealous?”

“Answer the question.”

“I was just trying to get information. She knew you, and you weren’t exactly approachable.”

“We were kinda friends.”

“I’m more inclined to believe that now.”

“See, and since we’re such good friends now, we should go visit our other friend.”

“Eric.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You’re still way too young. Besides… you shouldn’t stay so attached… you’re gonna have to say goodbye one day.”

“… I know… but I want to be in her life for as long as I possibly can.”

All Eric wanted to do now was reach out to those he left behind and make sure they’ve been doing well. His phone had been confiscated, and he wanted it back already. So he worked hard to prove to the others he was in control and could be around people again. Although after being told no one too many times he decided to sneak out. With super speed he could go back to his old apartment to see you and be back before sunrise.Of course he’d get scolded upon his return, but it would be worth it just to see you again.

He made a quick stop along the way to buy your favorite snacks, but when he got to your place there was no answer. It was pretty late into the night, and you were usually home at this time. He didn’t see you as someone who would be out so late, but he had to be sure. Eric made sure he was alone before entering your passcode and letting himself in. As soon as he entered he saw your slippers at the door, so you were likely out. He really wanted to see you so he figured he’d just wait and explain himself later, but the minutes ticked by and before he knew it a few hours passed. Without a phone he couldn’t even message you to ask where you were.

He figured he should probably go look for you. Maybe you had stayed at school studying, or were eating some ramen at a convenience store or something. Either way, he couldn’t just sit still and wait for you anymore. So he went to some of your favorite places, but there was no sign of you. He was about to ask someone if he could borrow their phone when something caught his eye. There was a missing persons poster on the light poll, and it was your face on display. He ripped off the flyer and stared at it, seeing your name and description. Something was very wrong here, and he rushed back to the others.

“Eric! Where the hell-”

“What is this!” Eric shoved the flyer into Sangyeon’s hands. “You said she would be safe!”

“I… I don’t understand. How does-”

“That isn’t her parents number. She’s been missing for who knows how long! Do something!”

“We don’t exactly go around helping people.”

“So she just so happens to go missing after I disappear? How are you sure some other nest didn’t know about me? And therefore targeted her!” 

“Relax. Let’s just call and see who answers.”

Eric snatched Sangyeon’s phone and made the call himself. He was extremely on edge as he dialed, not sure how this would go. You could have been kidnapped by other vampires, or humans, and he wasn’t sure which one was worse. As the phone rang he paced around, and when it finally went through he stopped.

“… hello… I… uh… I saw your missing persons poster about this girl… her name is y/n…”

“Do you have information regarding the missing girl?”

“I… I didn’t know she was missing… I was calling to ask for information.”

“And who are you in relation to the girl?”

“I’m her friend.”

“Then what would your name be?”

“Eric.”

The line went silent for a long moment, Eric even thought the call had been disconnected, but that wasn’t the case. 

“Then it’s you.”

“Huh?”

“You’re the special one, aren’t you? The one that ran away.”

“I… who is this? What have you done with y/n!?”

“Don’t worry about the girl, she’s alive, but if you want her back, how about a trade?”

“For what?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“Where are you?”

“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Eric was given a location and then the line went dead. He immediately threw glares at the others. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Let’s go.”

“You can’t just come alone.” Kevin said. “It’s dangerous.”

“It’s my friend! I’m going whether you like it or not.”

“We all are.” Sangyeon stated. “It’s best we all go together anyway.”

It was still night and the place they were headed to was underground, so they didn’t have to worry about the sun. The only problem was that they had no idea what they were walking into. Eric didn’t care, as long as he got you back safe and sound. When they arrived it wasn’t long before they found their way, catching the scent of fresh and old blood. A lot of nests could be messy, and Sangyeon wasn’t one to allow such things, so Eric could count himself lucky in that regard. Soon enough they came across a few other vampires.

“All I smell is a bunch of vampires.” One hissed. “Where’s the boy?”

“I’m right here.” Eric stepped forward. “Now where is she?”

“The deal was-”

“I guess I really aren’t all that special once I’m like you.”

“They turned you? What a waste. I guess there’s no need to keep that human around, or let you leave.”

They all knew going in that Eric being revealed to be a vampire would cause problems, but they had come prepared for a fight. For once Eric could just let loose and really test his own abilities. Although what he really cared about was finding you. In a place like this there would only be one loud and steady heartbeat. It took him a while to find it, but once he did he set out to locate the source. A while later after dealing with other blood suckers he found you in a cold dark room. You were curled up on a mattress, clothes ripped up, covered in bruises and bite marks. The only thing that kept him from panicking was the sound of your heartbeat.

“Y/n…”

Eric knelt down at your side and carefully lifted you up into his arms. He lightly tapped your face, trying to get you to wake up. It took a second but your eyes slowly began to open.

“… hm… please… no… no more…”

“It’s okay… I got you now… you’re gonna be okay…”

“… eric… is that you…”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me… I’m so sorry…”

‘“… you… you can’t be here… they… they’ll… hurt… you…”

“They won’t. I’m not alone. I’m gonna get you out of here, okay, just trust me.”

All Eric had been focused on was finding you and now that he had, he was starting to notice other things. The smell of blood, your blood, filled the air. His throat felt dry and his gaze focused on the marks all over your body. He wasn’t thinking about what had been done to you, but wanting a taste for himself.

“Y/n… could I…”

“… hm…”

“Just a bit… I promise…”

“… what…?”

In a swift motion Eric had brought you closer to him, digging his fangs into your tender neck. A weak scream escaped past your lips. The sensation all too familiar and draining. Instinctively you tried to push Eric away, but you had no strength to stop him.

“… eric… eric… e…”

“Eric!”

While searching for you Hyunjae came across a frightening scene. He immediately pulled Eric off of you, throwing him halfway across the room. Then his focus shifted to you, seeing your battered body, and the fresh bite mark.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Sangyeon!!!”

Hyunjae placed his hand over the bite mark before he was tackled away from you. Next thing he knew he was wrestling with Eric.

“Don’t touch her!”

“Eric, snap out of it! She’s dying!”

“What…?”

That seemed to get Eric out of his frenzie, but it wouldn’t help you. Seconds later Sangyeon and the others entered the room. It wasn’t hard to figure out what the priority was and Sangyeon was quickly at your side, biting into his wrist and pressing the bloody wound to your lips.

“Come on, drink it.”

Once Eric had his senses back he rushed to your side, although he was held back by Juyeon and Haknyeon.

“No, no, she can’t die, y/n!”

There wasn’t much he could do besides listen to your slowing heart beat and pained breaths. The taste of your blood was still on his tongue and he hated himself for it. Then it all went quiet. His body sagged to the ground and the others slowly let him grow. He crawled over to your body, tears blurring his vision.

“… no… no… y/n… no… please…”

“I’m sorry… her injuries were already severe…”

“… it’s all my fault… I couldn’t…”

Eric pulled you into his arms once more, his tears falling onto your cheeks. He had wanted to see you again for so long, but he hadn’t imagined things ending this way. He continued to sob as he held you, then a miracle seemed to take place. You suddenly took in a breath, eyes wide open and looking around in a panic.

“Y/n… y/n you’re alive!”

“What happened!? What’s going on!?”

“You’re okay!”

Eric hugged you tightly, not sure if this was a dream but he didn’t want it to end. Although a moment later he was pried away despite his protests, Sangyeon looking you over.

“Who are you?”

“That depends…”

“What?”

“What are you doing, Sangyeon?” Eric yelled. “She’s fine!”

“This was not my intention.”

“Huh?”

“She’s coming with us. Let’s go.”

Eric was released and he was at your side once more. You were still confused but you held on to him tightly.

“What’s going on…?”

“It’s a lot to explain.” Hyunjae came over, offering you his hand. “But we should get out of here first.”

“Hyunjae? Is it really you?”

“Yeah.”

The two boys helped you to your feet, having you wrap an arm around each of their shoulders. You still had a lot of questions and they knew that.

“Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be alright.”

“We promise.”

[thepilatesprincess]

If I loved you any less - Part 1

Story summary : Inspired by the book Emma by Jane Austen (1815) and the movie Triple Frontier (2019). On a normal Saturday evening, your pride gets wounded by your friends when they make fun of your love life. But you know about love, right?

Author’s notes : Hi! I’ve been rereading Emma for the thousandth time and imagining Frankie as Mr. Knightley so here you go. This story is more fluff than anything, so I hope you enjoy that. And, I apologize in advance for the grammar, English isn’t my first language. I really hope you like this serie, I’m freaking scared. <3

Warning : Swearing, fluff. Very cheesy. And different quotation marks cause I'm not American.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a woman whose pride got wounded must be in want of a distraction. Or at least that is what you told yourself when you got home that night.

It was a Saturday like any other, warm air thick with the smell of BBQ, cheap cologne, and laughter. Santiago oversaw the barbecue, or rather was showing off his skills while the boys were around him, hanging to his every word, acting like they were witnessing a masterpiece. Hanging out at one of their houses felt like every other night, fun, comforting and warm. Except this time, there was someone new with you.

Hannah, Will’s new girlfriend sat next to you on a lawn chair, looking at you with mild curiosity. A look that you have grown to know so well over the years. She was trying to figure you out.

« So which one of them are you dating? », Hannah asked, tilting her head. She was polite about it, but you knew what she meant. Why else would you be there?

You laughed and shook your head. « None of them. It would be a nightmare for everyone involved. »

She paused as you expected it. The assessing silence that always followed. You weren’t offended anymore; you understood. It was weird from an outsider’s perspective. A girl tangled up in a group like this.

« So wait, you’re not dating any of them? How did you guys meet? Were you in the military? »

That made you snort. «God, no.» The idea alone was laughable. « I’m younger than most of them. I grew up with Will and Benny, our parents were best friends. And since Benny and I have been attached by the hip since we were kids, the boys are kind of stuck with me. »

Hannah laughed and her face softened. Then, she nodded like your answer made sense. « But you and Benny never…», she trailed off.

« God no! » You shuddered at the thought. «It would be like dating my brother. »

This was not the full truth. Normally, you wouldn’t bother saying more. It wasn’t relevant. But maybe it was the third beer in your hand, or maybe you just liked Hannah, because before you could stop yourself, you added, « We did kiss once, though. Before he left for the military. Everyone kept saying we were meant for each other, so I figured, why not?  I ran to the airport and kissed him like it was the last time I’d ever see him. »

Hannah liked this. She leaned in. « And? »

«His breath stank. »

A loud scoff came from behind you. «How many times are you gonna tell that story? » Benny.

Before you could react, he shoved your legs off the lawn chair and dropped down beside you, balancing his plate of steak. «I’d just eaten Taco Bell, and you came at me like a goddamn movie moment. »

You grinned. «So you admit it was bad.»

« Oh, it was bad,» Benny shot back. « You nearly broke my front teeth with how hard you came in. » Hannah burst out laughing, and just like that, you relaxed. You liked her. You were glad to have another feminine presence here for once.

« Sounds like you two need a rematch. »

The voice was low, teasing.

You turned just in time to see Frankie strolling over, Santiago and Will trailing behind him.

« Yeah? You want to watch, Morales? », you shot back.

Frankie dropped into the chair across from you, passing you your plate on his way. « Wouldn’t you like that? » he murmured before taking a bite of food, grinning as he chewed. « Shut up and eat your damn food. I still can’t believe you eat this crap. »

You rolled your eyes as you looked down at your plate, a veggie patty that looked a little too green. You’d been a vegetarian for years, and they were still not over it. Though, these military men always made sure to have food for you after all this time. And that still warmed your heart a little.

The conversation shifted as you all finished eating. Going from Tom’s life updates to Santi’s new job inquiries and finally to Benny’s disastrous love life. Just like any other Saturdays.

But Hannah was still curious, and she turned back to you with intent. « So, are you not dating anyone? »

The boys burst out laughing before you even had the chance to answer. Like you dating anyone was the most absurd thing in the world. « Why is that funny? », you asked with a scowl.

Will was the first to speak, a hand on Hannah’s knee and the other wrapped around his beer, « Come on Sweet. We’ve known you for years now and you never showed up with a guy. You’re not exactly known for… relationships. »

You froze. Excuse me?

Benny, the traitor, grinned and shoved you a little. « He’s saying you never date. You never fall in love either. »

« That’s not true! » you gasped. Where the hell was this coming from?

« Sweet,» Santiago started with an amused shake of his head. «You hook up with guys, sure. But you don’t date them. »

You stared at them. You hated this. You hated that they were laughing like it was obvious. You hated that they had all apparently talked about this before. Was this what they really thought of you?

« But- but I could if I wanted to. I could be in a relationship; I just don’t want to. »

Your words sounded hollow as you spoke them. Your voice sounded weak and you wanted to scream after hearing yourself.

« Why is that? » Will insisted. Hannah squeezed his arm at that moment, a warning to leave it alone.

« I- Maybe I just haven’t found someone worth the effort. » You found yourself getting nervous, which was very unusual when hanging out with the boys. You grabbed the bottle of beer on the small table near you and started turning it in your hand. The cool condensation felt like a comforting presence, given the situation.

Frankie wasn’t laughing. His voice cut through the air, calm and sharp. «Maybe you’re not letting it happen. »

You turned to him to find his dark eyes, steady on yours. «Maybe you don’t want to risk anything. », he continued.

A prickle ran down your spine. Of course, Frankie said that. He always had something to say about your life, after all.

But this? This one hurt.

Your grip tightened on your beer as you forced out a laugh. « Maybe that’s it, Frankie. You’ve got me all figured out. »

You stood up and started gathering empty plates, needing an excuse to leave the group. To breathe. But as you entered the house, you could still feel his eyes on you. Like he was holding back words that he wasn’t ready to say.

---------------------------------------------

The night continued like nothing happened, conversations flowed, and laughter came easily. You played along just fine. Nodding at the right moments, laughing when needed, pretending like their words didn’t sting.

 You could take a joke. Hell, you took a lot of their shit. But this time, it felt different, wounded you.

At some point, during the late hours of the night, you were back on the lawn chairs, legs tucked in, quietly listening to Benny and Will’s bickering over a fight Benny had lost. When you heard a familiar voice behind you.

« You ready to go, Sweet? »

You turned, already knowing who it was. Frankie, standing there, hands in his pockets, wearing that easy, patient smile.

Right. He was your lift home. Like always. Your thing.  

One of your favourite parts of the night. A time for laughing at Benny’s antics, making fun of Santiago’s ego, or arguing with Frankie about… well, everything. You really loved arguing with him.

But tonight, for some reason, the thought of being alone in a car with him was not exactly thrilling. And from the look on his face, he knew just as much.

Fuck. You really needed to get that damn car fixed.

---------------------------------------------

The drive back home was pretty much silent save for the faint hum of the radio and the occasional sound of Frankie drumming his fingers against the wheel. Normally, you’d be talking a lot right now; mostly about the most frivolious things, recapping the dumb things the guys said during the night or once again, arguing with Frankie about something ridiculous just for the sake of it.

You loved those moments, just the two of you. You looked forward to them, every time.

But tonight, it felt different. Heavy. The silence that hung in the air was hard to ignore and you could tell Frankie felt it too. He had turned the volume up just a little louder than usual, like he was trying to fill the silence.

You kept your gaze fixed out the window, fingers idly twisting the rings on your hand. You could feel him glance over at you, once, twice, before he finally broke the quiet.

«You good? »

You huffed a laugh and rolled your eyes at his dumb question.  «Yes Frankie, I’m good. »

He paused, but of course, he wasn’t done. « Right… »His voice was slow, unconvinced. « Because, you know, Sweet, we could talk about it. »

You sighed, closing your eyes briefly. « Frankie, please. Just- just don’t start. »

« I can tell something’s bothering you, Sweet, talk to me. » His voice was softer now, but persistent.

You finally turned to look at him, shaking your head. «Nothing is bothering me. »

« But there is. » He shot you a quick glance, his expression unreadable. « You’re quiet, you’re fidgeting, and you’ve barely looked at me. I know you’re upset, talk to me. »

You just shook your head then. You didn’t want to talk, he knew that. Why wouldn’t he let it go?

« You know, Sweet… »He paused for a second, daring himself to continue. « I just think you’re upset because they got too close to the truth back there. »

You snapped your head in his direction. « What the hell does that mean? »

« I think you don’t let yourself want it. Want love. » He said simply. Like he had the right to say it. To pick apart your life like this. Outside, you could see the familiar street that led to your place.

You crossed your arms at that. « And I think that you should mind your business, Morales. Don’t act like you know me. »

Frankie exhaled sharply, gripping the wheel a little tighter. His voice was softer when he spoke. «I do know you, Sweet, and I... »

«Stop calling me that. », you interrupted.

« And I do know that what your father did to your mother hurt you. » He continued; his voice softer now. He was pushing it too far.

You exhaled by the impact of his words. « Don’t. », you breathed firmly. You closed your eyes then. Like maybe you wouldn’t be able to hear the rest of his words. Like maybe tonight could end like every other night. Safe.

But Frankie always pushed with you. Always wanted more from you.

« What your father did to your mother, it was wrong. And I know you swore you’d never be her, but I don’t think you should cross off love out of your life. »

« Shut up. »

His grip on the steering wheel hardened, like he was commanding himself to continue. Like it pained him too. « You keep everyone at arm’s length. You push away the people that want more. You think if you never let it go too far, if you play safe, you won’t get hurt. I feel like you’re just making yourself lonely. »

« And what, Frankie? » You laughed to hide how you really felt, hurt. « You think you’re the one who’s going to fix that? You want to play the hero and save me? »

That made him pause. His jaw clenched like he was holding back words. But then his voice strained. « No. I just wish you would stop pretending you don’t want love. » The car slowed as he pulled up in front of your place. The moment he put it in park, you unbuckled your seatbelt, already reaching for the door handle.

« Thank you for the ride home, Frankie. Drive safe. » You didn’t look at him when you spoke, your voice tight. You forced yourself not to slam the door and walked slowly back to your place. You wouldn’t show him how much his words affected you. You could feel his eyes burn on your back the whole time. But you didn’t look back. Not until you heard his truck pulling away.

[letternotekisses]

hello!! Me again, sorry :3 could i ask for another deathslinger request where he helps reader, who is a new survivor, do a generator? Thank you!! I love your work!!! 🪲

It wasn't uncommon for the victims in the fog to slip up and short-circuit the generators, whether they be lulled into madness by the Doctor's electricity or just downright stressed.

Four times in a row, though? That's new.

Caleb stills just short of the Ironworks, his jaw clicking as he sets it gently back into place. You don't flinch, you don't even move. Some of the more seasoned survivors would have spotted the old cowboy before he even made it round the corner, but not you.

A new, pretty little thing, unfortunate as you were that the Entity plucked you away. He could nearly imagine you in such a sweeter setting, away from all that oil and grime that coated you to your elbows, somewhere you much better belonged.

What really tickled him was the the confusion scrunching your face, each twist of gears and tugging of wires resulted in the rickety generator blowing up in your face. None of the other survivors had bothered much with you then, left you alone as easy pickings for him to snap up - and snap up he would.

It wasn't like Caleb to meddle in survivor affairs, but it was pitiful to watch you struggle, frustrated tears building high in your pretty eyes. They must've all forgotten that they were all you once upon a time, and there was no reward in the Entity's realm for spitefulness and cruelty. Not on their side, at least.

He stills a few inches away, finger resting patiently on the Redeemer’s trigger. He could just as easily gut you from where he stood, drag you back to a hook with your legs trailing like dead weight behind you. But he didn’t - and he wouldn’t. The Entity simmers, whispering angrily in his ears, but after all these years she's nothing more than a buzzing gnat, waiting to pick on his hard work.

She'd get her fill. Just not of you.

A tired sigh escapes him and you still don’t hear it over the sounds of creaking metal. Caleb wasn’t much of a bleeding heart, quite the opposite if you consider his track record - but you weren’t any match for him at the minute, nor had you banged him upside the head with a flashlight. He could spare you a minute or two.

He clinks the tip of the Redeemer against the generators top and you fall back away from it with a startled shriek, raising your medkit in a manner that was supposed to intimidate him. To mimic a weapon not unlike his own. He rasps, a laugh so thick and cloying like the drag of chains that you cant help but wince. What a sweet, naïve little thing you were.

"Keep your bloomers on, girl." He sniffs, gruff and firm. His voice rattling like an old cage from underuse. "Watch. Like this."

You hold your breath when he grows closer - they'd told you to run, those others. Run or die. Have your innards paving the path like a sick and bloody esplanade. Yet it leaves your mind once you catch a whiff of him. Leather, tarry and riddled with smoke but unmistakeably human. There's an all too familiar warmth coming from him too, layered behind all of those old fashioned garments.

He seems all too real to be as much of a monster Meg had made him out to be. At least, you think that was her name. You didn't quite catch it.

He twists on a few gears, tugs on a few wires - making it seem almost embarrassingly easy in comparison to your earlier attempts - before pulling back and nodding his head at you. A little gesture as if to say your turn, little lady.

Yes, sir. You almost mutter, heat bleeding into your cheeks as you slide in front of the gen, ever thankful that it hides your frazzled face.

You mimic his motions, treating the generator gently, with smooth and practiced movements. It purrs at you, humming to life as if pleased instead of sparking angrily in your face and coating your forearms in oily drool. You feel a sense of pride and undeniable elation swell in your chest, clapping your hands together and squealing with unabashed joy until you remember that a supposed murderer is standing right there.

He snorts, peering down at you like a curious predator, humouring prey before before he suddenly snaps you up into his jaws. Yet he simply marvels, clicking his jaw idly as you shuffle forward and shove your medkit into his arms as a form of thanks, bolting as if he might choose you instead of your peace offering.

Strange, but sweet. He'd be seeing more of you soon enough, girl.

[dancing--lights]

27 for the ask game? 😁

Thank you for this! I did this one from Neve's pov, and had a lot of fun with it.

Here's the list if anyone want it: Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss.

27. ...as a suggestion.

If you want a decent meal, a stiff drink and a good song, there are worse places for all three in Dock Town than the Lamplighter. Sure, there are better, but not for what we were doing.

I’d been frequenting the place more than usual lately, and not just for leads. I stood alone at the bar, one hand around a half-finished drink, my back to the counter. It was just after sunset, and busy. Lex was playing, and he always drew a crowd. Most of the tables in the room were occupied. I had my eye on one in particular.

The Threads had always had their fair share of problems–or caused them–but those problems were dealt with, usually quickly and quietly. After Aelia? They were a mess. And, they were mine to clean up.

“Want me to top you off there, Boss?”

It was the barkeep. He’d kept his distance most of the evening. He was good at his job. I’d spent most of the night in quiet conversation with a merchant who’d been not-so-quietly claiming his charms might be infused with red lyrium. You’d think that would scare people away. Not in Minrathous. In Minrathous, red lyrium is a problem, all on its own, but this merchant got his charm shipments through the Threads. Elek said the Threads had done business with the man for years, that he was usually reliable, but if Aelia or the gods had their hooks in, if he was Venatori or working with them, I needed to know. So, I’d asked Elek to arrange a meeting.

The merchant had turned up at the bar with an apology ready to go. I’d listened as he stumbled through it, and quickly realized, he was no Venatori. But he was a decent liar. He’d wanted to attract a certain kind of customer- the kind with money to spare. I’d told him it was a good way to get himself killed. It hadn’t taken much to convince him to stop.

“Thanks,” I nodded at the barkeep, my eyes still on the table in the corner, “I think we’re just about done here.”

I took a sip of my drink and watched Rook from my perch at the bar. She was worth a look, or two. She sat sprawled across from Elek, long legs crossed and resting casually on the table. She was waiting. It was his move, and he was stalling. She grinned, and said something to him I couldn’t quite make out. He shook his head, laid a card on the table, and drew another. This was their third game. He’d already lost two. 

It was Rook’s turn. She swung her legs off the table and sat up, cards in hand. She was still grinning. She tossed a few gold onto the growing pile between them, pulled from the deck and said something else to Elek. She arched a brow, and smirked. She was baiting him. He sat back in his chair and scoffed, loud enough that I could hear from my seat at the bar. I could see the faint outline of a card tucked away in his pocket. And he wasn’t the only one not playing fair. Rook had drawn two cards- one from the deck, and one she’d already discarded.

Apparently, one of those cards was the Angel of Death. Elek said something to Rook. It must have been, “you first.” Rook shrugged, and placed her hand face up on the table. Elek’s shoulders slumped, and he let his cards fall from his grasp, not even bothering to show them. Another win for Rook. I could tell she felt at least a bit sorry for him. She was trying not to laugh. She was also trying to give his coin back, but he wouldn’t take it. 

She caught my eye from across the room, and smiled. Not like before, when she was trying to rile Elek up. This was sweeter. Just for me.

She got up from her seat at the table, clapped Elek on the back, and made her way to the bar. She laid an arm across it, leaning against the counter next to me. Without a word, the bartender pulled an empty glass from a shelf, and poured her one of what I was having. She thanked him, and took a sip, before giving me another smile.

“Proud of yourself?” I asked.

“Well, I did just win three rounds of Wicked Grace in a row, so…”

“And, how’s Elek? Holding up?”

“He’ll live,” she smirked. 

“He’ll beat you someday, you know.”

“He’ll try,” she turned to me then. She looked… worried, maybe. Or, at least, concerned, “how was the meeting?”

I sighed, “It went about as well as it could have. He wasn’t Venatori, there was no actual red lyrium to sell, and he’s agreed to stop pretending there is. I’ll take the win.”

“Well, that’s… good?”

“It could have been worse.”

“That’s the spirit.”

I gave her a tired smile, “You know me.”

“Ready to get out of here?”

“I need to go over a few things with Elek, and maybe check in with Cida-”

“Neve,” she stopped me. If she wasn’t worried before…

“Rook-”

“Neve,” she leaned closer, a slight furrow in her brow. She was definitely worried. “You have to sleep at some point. How much did you get last night?”

“Enough to still be here today?”

She pursed her lips.

“Fine,” I sighed, “not much.”

She took my hand in hers, and pressed it quickly to her lips. Just for a moment. Just for me. A suggestion.

“Alright, Rook,” I ceded, trying not to smile, “you win this one. Back to the Lighthouse. But we’re coming back tomorrow.”

“Of course,” she grinned, “I promised Elek another game.”

[gestippeldedieseltreinworm]

.

[laikinz-moved]

my dad being clearly in a mood that only he knows the reason for and then my grandmother asking him if he’s mad at her and crying I’m going to BED

[spikeisawesome456]

.

[gumii-bearr]

❝ not even a little ❞

summary: megumi fushiguro is your roommate, he's also a scary guy... a scary guy that's weak for you.

featuring... megumi fushiguro

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, roommate!megumi, college!au, angst, fluff!!, alcohol, vomiting (from being so drunk), mentions of weed, hangovers, reader cries a few times, slow burn ish, these two are pissing me off, smut, dirty talk, cunnilingus, blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, cum eating, virginity loss (?), mentions of a cheating ex (there is Hana slander im sorry), emotionally stunted megumi, swearing, megumi is so bad at feelings oh my god, ozawa x yuji mentions

word count: 13.8k

author's note: MEOW– guys i been working hard on this FUCKER!

chapter two

You’re pretty sure he hates you.

Your new roommate, that is. 

“Fushiguro, right?” You led with friendliness, hoping to win him over with your charming personality and half the share of the rent. But he was beyond intimidating, standing at the front door, eyes slanted and harsh with boredom. His hair was messy but it almost seemed intentional with how much it complimented and framed his angular face.

He was gorgeous.

Yuko had neglected to tell you just how attractive your new roommate would be when she sent you the address the day before. Though, it made sense that she wouldn’t notice since she’s dating Itadori, not his old roommate.

He looked you up and down as you stood at his front door, a nervous smile twinging at your lips as an awkward tension consumed you. Though he didn’t seem overly bothered by the awkwardness, simply humming in acknowledgement of his name before standing aside to let you into his apartment.

It was nice; very organised for a guy, you thought. He wordlessly led you to your new room, which was Yuji’s old room, and gave you the rundown of the rent and utilities while you tried to not melt at the deep smoothness of his voice.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

“You didn’t tell me he was hot, Ozawa,” you grumble as you tighten the group head into the coffee machine. It’s quiet in the cafe that day, just you and Yuko behind the counter trying to shake off your lack of sleep with iced coffees and fries from the stainless steel bowl sitting at the kitchen window. The line chef doesn’t care that you’re stealing the fries, too busy scrolling on his phone and attempting to blink away his hangover.

Yuko takes a sip of her coffee, her brows knit in confusion, “who?”

“Fushiguro,” you clarify, pressing buttons on the coffee machine.

Yuko was your friend from high school and she was the one that hooked you up with the apartment. All she told you was that he was Yuji’s best friend and old roommate before she and Yuji moved in together. She told you he was in his second year of college, he needed help with the rent and that he was a nice guy.

“You told me he was nice, too.”

“Fushiguro is nice,” Yuko retorts, restocking the paper cups next to the coffee machine.

You give her a look, “nice my ass.”

“You just said he was hot!” she laughs at that, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“You can be hot and mean at the same time, they’re not mutually exclusive.”

“Mm,” she hums, “sounds like your type.”

“Rude,” you mutter.

The bell above the door dings, your eyes peeking over the coffee machine to spot Yuji walking in with a wide smile, “hi baby!”

Yuko grins, “Hey, Yuji.” She leans over the counter, allowing Yuji to press a kiss against her cheek with a loud muah!

“What’s up?” Yuji asks curiously, letting his chin rest in his own palm.

“Y/N was just telling me about her first night in her new place,” Yuko replies.

“Ooh!” Yuji sings.

“She said he’s hot,” Yuko giggles.

A big smile spills across Yuji’s face and he teasingly wiggles his brows, “you got a crush?”

“No,” you say defensively. “I don’t even know him.”

“You can crush on someone and not know them,” Yuji shrugs.

“I don’t think you can.”

Yuji tuts, “ah-ah! Jennifer Lawrence, I don’t know her, but I have a crush on her.”

You look to Yuko, “you gonna let him say that?”

Yuko shrugs sheepishly, “I have a crush on her too so I think it’s okay.”

Yuji points at her, “see?”

You just playfully roll your eyes, “but seriously… What's the secret? Cus I think he already wants me to move out.”

“Fushiguro just takes time to warm up to people,” Yuji explains. “Just give it time.”

You wonder how long it’ll take for him to warm up to you. You’re a friendly person and you’re pretty bubbly but he just intimidates the hell out of you. But his apartment was way nicer than any of the other apartments near campus. And bonus points because the rent was rather cheap compared to other places you’d seen. So you can’t screw this up.

But again, you’re pretty sure he hated you.

He was always grumbling around and seemed to get annoyed when you would put the dishes away in the wrong spots (though he never outright told you this). And he seemed to get annoyed when you were in a shared space, either sitting down on the floor in front of the TV to study or at the kitchen counter with your textbooks strewn about. 

But no way in hell were you going to poke the bear and ask him if he hated you.

Because Megumi Fushiguro was a scary guy.

You think you’ve screwed yourself when Megumi makes a bee-line for you a few weeks later.

You’re sitting at your desk in your room with the door slightly open. You’re focused on the essay you’re trying to edit but it’s hard to ignore the dark and brooding cloud that is Megumi Fushiguro.

“You touch my shit?” He asks. It doesn’t sound mean or accusing but just the depth of his voice alone makes you nervous.

“Huh?” You squeak out, eyes shifting nervously.

“My clothes,” he holds out a folded shirt for emphasis, his other hand holding your door frame (and jesus christ his muscles look so good).

Fuck.

You gulp, “u-uh, yeah, I did. I needed more darks so I just… used some of yours…”

Megumi just stares at you, steely eyes narrow and harsh.

You smile sheepishly, though it’s not really a smile, more of a nervous twitch in your lips, “I’m sorry–”

“Just,” Megumi starts before he sighs, “don’t touch my shit.”

You nod quickly, “right. I’m sorry.”

It’s funny. 

You’ve only been here for a few weeks and Megumi is growing more and more frustrated by you. 

How you always manage to be there when he’s trying to use the shower or the kitchen or do his laundry. He realises the irony given you’re his fucking roommate but he can’t cope with this shit.

He finds himself staring when you walk around in tiny shorts and tight tank tops. Or when you slink down the hallway wrapped in a towel like he can’t see you. Or when you stretch your arms above your head while you’re studying, your shirt riding up and giving him the perfect view of your tummy–

Megumi stands outside the bathroom door, towel and a change of clothes in hand. 

He knew girls took a while in the shower but this? You’d been in there for around fifteen minutes, the shower running and your music playing softly from inside. Megumi and Yuji used to function fine with one bathroom between the two of them, but sharing with you, a girl, proved to be a little different.

“M’so sorry,” you squeak as you pull the door open, your hair wet and combed back, your face free of your usual makeup. 

“S’fine,” Megumi murmurs. 

You quickly duck your head and slink away and Megumi just fucking stares. His breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of your towel pulled tight around your body, giving him a perfect view of the outline of your ass. His eyes raked over your bare shoulders and he almost felt dizzy at the lingering smell of your strawberry scented shampoo.

Megumi coughed into his fist, feeling a certain stiffness in his pants making itself known. It’d been a while since he got laid so he’d just deal with it using a cold shower and thinking about violent video games or something.

You’re finding you have the same problem.

You feel your face flush when he comes home from the gym in compression shirts and sweatpants, an earbud stuck in his ear and his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. And you just sit there in the living room gawking like an idiot as he mumbles an annoyed ‘hey’ then proceeds to ignore you the rest of the night.

He’s caught you staring a few times, especially when you’re waiting for him to get out of the shower so you can use the bathroom and he emerges wrapped in nothing but a towel, his hair dripping water down his pale chest.

And you totally check him out before slapping a hand over your eyes, cheeks flushed as you squeak out an embarrassed, “sorry!”

He just rolls his eyes with a huff and disappears into his room, leaving you to bang your head against the wall because you’re so dumb.

Yuji was right, you do have a crush.

It’s truly a tragic predicament because he seems to have no interest in you. He barely acknowledges you, humming when you greet him and brushing past you when you’re using a shared space at the same time. It’s almost as if he’s actively avoiding you.

“I made you a coffee,” you’re trying to break the ice somehow because Megumi is so unbelievably unreadable that it hurts.

Megumi looks at you, half-lidded eyes tired and bored as he studies your nervous expression. You place the mug of hot coffee on the counter next to his set up of textbooks, notebooks, pens and his laptop.

You fiddle with your hands, “it’s just coffee and milk, I didn’t know if you wanted sugar–”

“Thanks,” he simply says, nodding with a tight-lipped smile before sticking his earbud back in his ear.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment before you awkwardly shuffle off to your room. Completely missing how Megumi watches you leave.

Once midterms roll around, Megumi disappears off the face of the earth. You don’t see him for weeks because he’s either cooped up in his room or he stays late on campus and you hear him get home at stupid hours of the night.

The next time you see him is at a party.

The frat house you’re at is packed with college students all at varying stages of drunkenness. You’ve maybe had half a drink, deciding to hide away in the kitchen and people-watch. Yuji and Yuko convinced you to come along since midterms were over and the stress swallowing the entire college campus had seemed to somewhat dissipate. 

One party wouldn’t hurt. 

“Yooo! Y/N you made it!” Yuji exclaims, an arm thrown around Yuko’s shoulders, the two of them clutching red plastic cups full of some mysteriously coloured alcohol. 

“Yeah, I thought I’d try and make some friends,” you reply as Yuko hands you a drink.

“Damn, then what are we?” Yuji’s teases, gesturing between himself and Yuko.

You roll your eyes playfully, “more friends, Itadori,” you clarify.

Yuji was a guy that was easy to get along with, always making friends no matter where he went. You became fast friends with Yuji after he and Yuko started dating since you were instrumental in convincing Yuko to give her number to him way back when.

“You and Fushiguro friends yet?” Yuko asked curiously, slightly yelling over the music.

You grit your teeth, “don’t think so. I put the dishes away wrong once and I think he’s hated me ever since.”

Yuji blows a raspberry, “yeah right, you should try and talk to him tonight, maybe hit on him, hm?” Yuji wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

“Why tonight?” You ask curiously.

“Cus he looks lonely,” Yuji points to the other end of the room.

You follow his finger and spot that familiar mop of messy black hair rather quickly. He’s leaning against the wall cradling a drink and damn he looks good in the black shirt he’s wearing, allowing you to totally check out and gawk at his lean muscular arms. He looks beyond bored, his steely blue eyes scanning the crowd with complete disinterest.

You didn’t even know he was coming to this thing and now you’re suddenly motivated to stay.

You gulp down the lump in your throat before squeezing the plastic cup of whatever the fuck in your hand. You lift it to your lips and chuck it back, the bitter alcohol burning your throat on the way down. 

“Atta girl!” Yuji exclaims, “go get your man!”

“You’re for the girls, you know that, Yuji?” You grin.

“I’ve been told,” he beams happily. 

You take Yuko’s drink off her and quickly throw hers back too, needing some liquid courage to get you over there because at least if you say something stupid, you can blame it on the alcohol. 

“Okay, maybe don’t overdo it,” Yuko pats your shoulder.

You take in a breath before nodding and squeezing past your friends, making your way toward your roommate. You didn’t even know he would be at this party, that’s how little you talk to one another. Yet you find yourself getting nervous and stupid around him. 

You’re barely five meters away from him when you stop dead in your tracks.

A blonde girl approaches Megumi, her shoulder bumping his as she leans against the wall next to him. He eyes her before taking a sip of his drink. You don’t hear what she says but he seems vaguely amused by it and you find yourself almost jealous that some random girl managed to get more emotion out of Megumi in the last two seconds than you have in the past two months.

Your heart thumps in your chest and you suddenly feel small and ridiculous. You clear your throat and quickly spin on your heel, heart thumping in your ears as you pick up another drink of whatever crazy jungle juice they’re serving at this frat party and chuck it back. 

He doesn’t even know it and he just crushed your spirit. 

“Uh oh,” Yuji grits his teeth.

“Why’s she coming back?” Yuko asks Yuji.

“I’m going to stand on a highway,” you grin maniacally. Yuko and Yuji peer behind you and spot the same blonde girl talking to Megumi, only this time she’s turned toward him, giving him her undivided attention as she yaps on about something. Megumi still seems vaguely uninterested but he nods along slowly.

“Yikes,” Yuji cringes, “not him talking to his ex.”

“Ex?” you squeak out.

Yuko nudges Yuji’s shoulder, giving him a ‘what the fuck, bro?’ look. Yuji quickly stammers, “I-I mean, they’ve been broken up for like two years, there’s nothing there.”

You don’t believe him for a second because it certainly didn’t look like nothing. You peek back over your shoulder and watch as Megumi chugs the rest of his drink and leaves, the blonde girl trailing behind him. Great, they’re gonna go have sex and you’re stuck having a crush on your roommate who will probably kick you out when he gets back with her. 

Great.

Great.

You turn back to Yuji and Yuko with a wide-eyed nervous smile.

Yuji grits his teeth, “you okay, Y/N?”

You squeak, “mhm, so good!”

Yuko and Yuji share a look with each other before Yuko sighs, “he’s not worth it anyway, you’re a catch, if he can’t see it then he’s stupid.”

You know she’s trying to make you feel better and you’re a relatively confident person, but when you start to crush on someone and they don’t offer any kind of reciprocation for your feelings, you start to feel a little… not so confident. 

Yuko and Yuji try to make you feel better, introducing you to their other friend Nobara who is much more aggressive in her pep talk.

“You’re a hot, sexy mama!” Nobara shakes your shoulders, her speech slurred slightly. “Who cares about that emo hoe anyway!”

You want to laugh but she honestly kind of scares you.

“You gotta get laid by some other guy! A hot guy!” Nobara hiccups, taking another swig from her cup. “Maybe fuck your ex or something! Or, or, or! Fuck one of Fushiguro’s classmates!”

“Uh, I don’t think losing my virginity at a party is exactly ideal,” you reply.

Nobara’s eyes bulge out of her head, “you’re a virgin!?” She says it so loud that a few heads turn and you shush her quickly.

“Tell the whole campus why don’t you?” You scold in a hushed tone.

“You’re hot though, babe,” she hiccups again. “You could pull anyone!”

“Funny.”

“I’m serious!”

You let loose after that, deciding to drink and do shots to avoid thinking about Megumi as if you don’t keep looking for him all night. You’re always peeking over your shoulder, searching for him in the crowd and flat out ignoring the guys Nobara and Yuko attempt to introduce you to. 

You’re not interested in the pre-med students or the business students or whatever the fuck.

You’re more interested in the tall, lean, handsome vet student who happens to be your roommate and who you haven’t seen all night.

After many more rounds of shots, a game of beer pong and poorly deciding to bet Yuji you could drink him under the table; you’re so drunk. You stumble around the party, hanging off Yuji, Nobara and Yuko since they are clearly equally as drunk as you with how they encourage your behaviour. 

Your head is fucking spinning and you feel like you’re going to be sick.

You stumble around the house, clutching the wall and stair bannister as you attempt to find the bathroom. You open a few random doors, spotting people making out, some other people fighting before you finally find the bathroom, bile rising in your throat and your vision going fuzzy. You find a bunch of people smoking what smells like weed in the bathroom, the smell hitting you in the face like a brick wall. 

They all start yelling at you to shut the door and you quickly slam it shut before you stumble back down the stairs, racing to the back door as you feel the vomit start to claw up your throat. You shove the door open, the outside air freezing cold and nipping at your hot skin. 

You half crawl toward the back fence, your stupid heels betraying you as you pathetically fall to your knees and throw your guts up in the garden.

Your brain is on fire and your stomach aches as you throw up all the alcohol in your system. You really shouldn’t have been mixing your alcohols, but Nobara was so convincing and Megumi had just stomped on your heart.

You suddenly feel two cold hands against your head, brushing over your ears as they pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding it out of your face as you throw up. You’re thankful to whatever stranger is helping you out right now because you feel awful.

Tears prick at your eyes, a mix of tears and mascara running down your face because you really fucking hate throwing up and you really hate Megumi Fushiguro right now.

“You okay?” The man’s voice is distant and a little fuzzy.

You wave him off, “m’fine.”

“You’re crying,” he says softly, listening as you sniffle and wipe your tears away with the ball of your palm. There’s a pause, the man still holding your hair back, “why’re you crying?”

You shrug, “cus I’m sick and I’m s’drunk and some stoners yelled at me and roommate is an ass.”

He hums, “what’d he do? …Your roommate?”

“Nothing,” you whine with a soft sniffle.

“Nothing?” He repeats, his voice sounding slightly amused.

“Nothing,” you say again, “that’s the problem.”

There’s a pause. “Why’s that a problem?”

You groan quietly, “why’re you grillin’ me? I’m s’drunk.”

He chuckles softly, “right, sorry.”

You don’t even know this guy and you immediately start rambling, “my friends helped me find a roommate and everyone neglected to tell me he ws’ hot! And I’m tryin’ to get him to like, notice me, but he’s so mean and I’m like ninety-nine percent sure he hates me. Then he was with his ex at this party right before I ws’ gonna go talk to him! Can you believe that?”

“Wow, he is an ass,” the man says matter-of-factly, validating your feelings.

“Thank you,” you slur before you feel your tummy do a flip and you’re throwing up in the garden again. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, smearing your lipgloss messily. You sniffle again, “m’sorry stranger.”

“S’okay,” he rubs your shoulder, still holding your hair back.

You wake up the next morning with the most vicious headache. 

You roll over with a groan, your head pounding and your mouth tasting of acid and whatever the hell was in that jungle juice last night. You press your face into your pillow and groan softly, your entire body feeling like shit. After a few painful seconds, you pry your eyes open, your vision fuzzy and your eyes sore. 

You’re in your bed.

Now how the fuck did you get here?

You sit up slowly, your head pounding and spinning with a wonderfully terrible hangover. You spot your shoes on the floor of your room, neatly sitting next to your desk along with your folded jacket. You half remember someone taking you home, maybe it was Yuji? Fuck, you better thank him.

You take your phone off your side table (which was miraculously put on charge last night) and search for Yuko’s number, you press her name and the phone rings a few times before she answers.

“H-Hello?” Yuko groans, her voice saturated with exhaustion.

“Are you as lucid as I am?” You cringe, rubbing your eyes with the ball of your palm.

You hear Yuko muffle a groan into her pillow, clearly as insanely hungover as you, “we got so drunk.”

“Is Itadori okay?” you ask with a wince.

“He’s throwing up in the shower right now,” she replies.

“That’s rough,” you want to laugh but it hurts too much.

“Well he did crash the beer pong and drank half a bottle of midori so,” she trails off.

“Can you tell him thanks for taking me home?” you sigh.

Yuko pauses, “Yuji didn’t take you home.”

Huh?

“What?” you sit up in bed.

“Babe, Yuji was so drunk he tried to pet a rat in the street, he did not take you home,” she says.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Then who did?”

“Y/N… Fushiguro took you home.”

What?

—

Megumi nurses a drink in his hand as he watches you from across the room. He can’t help the way his chest tightens as he hears you laugh at something Yuji says, your nose scrunching cutely as you let out a bubbly laugh. 

He also can’t help the way his eyes drift down your body, thinking you look cute with your hair done like that. You’re usually wearing baggy sweaters and shorts around the house, he’s never seen this outfit before and he really likes it.

He thinks you look pretty. You always look pretty but this outfit in particular has him short-circuiting like a teenager. 

He thinks back to when he got unnecessarily mad at you over washing his clothes and how he’ll never fucking admit it but they smelled so good. He’s not sure what the hell you used to wash them but they smelled amazing, they smelled like you.

Megumi has to tear his eyes away when his gaze drops to your cute little ass in that mini skirt. He feels like a perv. He lives with you for god sake, he can’t be thinking such things about his roommate. Not when he has to live with you for the next few years. 

Megumi takes a long swig of his drink, attempting to stifle the thoughts with terrible tasting alcohol and pure willpower. 

“Didn’t think I’d ever see Megumi Fushiguro at a party.”

Megumi has to stop himself from rolling his eyes when he hears her voice. 

Hana leans against the wall beside him with a sly grin on her face, her shoulder bumping his. He knows she’s doing it just to annoy him, of course she is. 

“Why’re you talking to me?” Megumi grumbles out, refusing to give her the satisfaction of eye contact as he sips on his drink because he’s gonna need alcohol or a fucking hammer to the head to get him through this interaction.

“Can’t say hi to my ex-boyfriend?” She teases, leaning her head toward him.

Megumi rolls his eyes for real this time, “you’ve said hi.”

“Oh, boo, you’re so not fun,” Hana playfully shoves his shoulder.

Megumi lets out a huffed fake laugh, “I’m really torn up about it.”

Hana talks to him about some random bullshit and Megumi isn’t even listening because he knows she’s drunk and she would be stupid to approach him sober. His eyes are instead glued to you, feeling himself get slightly jealous when Yuji puts a hand on your back to lead to toward the kitchen–

“–and you’re still mad,” Hana slurs. Megumi didn’t hear a word she said up until now.

Megumi side-eyes her, feeling rather annoyed by her incessant nagging, “you done?”

Hana rolls her eyes, “I’m just saying you could at least have a civil conversation.”

Megumi feels his eye twitch, “I think you lose civil-conversation privileges when you– I don’t know– lie and cheat?”

Hana scoffs and Megumi decides he doesn’t want to listen to her bullshit anymore and promptly walks off, shoving his hands in his pockets as he attempts to lose Hana in the crowd. She follows him around like some stupid puppy for a while before growing bored, probably going off to annoy some other poor sucker.

She also seems to lose interest when she notices Megumi simply doesn’t care anymore. She does this sometimes, drunkenly messaging him every few months only for him to promptly block her account without a word. He’s starting to think she’s the one that won’t move on.

Megumi sighs when he steps outside into the backyard, sitting down on the edge of the porch and deciding to look busy by scrolling on his phone. It’s quieter outside, the backyard mostly empty apart from a few people smoking cigarettes and vaping by the back fence.

Megumi Fushiguro is lonely.

Lonely in the sense that after Hana, he became decidedly more stoic and standoffish. She was his first serious girlfriend and he was stupid and naive for so long before Yuji and Nobara pointed out the rather obvious red flags that Megumi was painfully unaware of.

Because he was young and she was a little older, so she had to know better, right?

Maybe he really was too clingy and maybe he really did need to stop asking to hang out all the time. He felt utterly stupid when he found out she was cheating on him. It made sense, he was too clingy, too needy, too much.

Megumi reverted back in on himself for a long time, becoming sad and angry before he just stopped giving a shit.

He did a lot to forget about the anger and pain he felt from Hana.

He slept around to forget about her, becoming reserved and aloof over time. He eventually did get over it because why the fuck was it his fault that she cheated on him?

But the things she made him feel about himself lingered. 

Made him wonder if he really was too needy and clingy to be a good boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t respectful enough of a person’s space and he needed to stop trying so hard. 

He didn’t go on dates much, everyone always thought he was too mean or rude to ever ask a girl on a date. Sure he slept with girls but they were quick to leave right after with a “yeah, yeah… I can call you if you want?”

If you want.

He just felt embarrassed, letting them gather their clothes and leave his apartment or usher him out of theirs while half-assed promising to text him later. Megumi didn’t know who was using who at that point.

Megumi is shaken from his thoughts when a body almost falls into him. He goes to argue with whoever the fuck can’t watch their step when he sees you.

Your shoes half fall off as you crawl toward the back fence to hurl up everything in your stomach. Megumi quickly slips his phone in his pocket and strides across the lawn toward you. 

You’re totally out of it.

Megumi pulls your hair out of your face as you vomit, tears slipping down your cheeks. Your skirt is riding up and your top is pulled low on your chest. 

“You okay?” Megumi asks softly, maybe one of the very few things he’s ever said to you. He gently adjusts your top, pulling the strap back onto your shoulder and pulling it up a little to cover the lacy material of your bra. You obviously don’t realise you’re compromising yourself and he adjusts himself behind you to cover your skirt as it rides up your thighs.

There are guys who are nudging each other and pointing at you and Megumi’s gaze hardens on them, suddenly feeling agitated.

“M’fine,” you mumble out with a soft sniffle.

Megumi’s heart melts, “why’re you crying?”

You proceed to sniffle and pout while you tell him all about how your roommate is an ass… without realising you’re talking to your roommate.

He thinks it’s cute, finding you so adorably amusing with how animatedly you speak despite being rather drunk and sick. He finds it sad though that it took you being so drunk for him to sum up enough courage to talk to you.

It scared him how you made his heart hammer in his chest, how your mere gaze on him suddenly made him nervous. But he couldn’t stop himself from staring. You were too cute with your dorky little grin as you stood at his front door telling him all about how you were his new roommate. He made a mental note to curse Yuji out for not telling him Yuko’s friend was a pretty girl and not the six foot two fucking pro wrestler guy he made you sound like.

You can’t possibly have any more to throw up, your skin feverish and clammy as your fingers curl into the grass below you. Megumi rubs your shoulder gently before he feels you slump against him, sniffling and tiredly whimpering beside him.

Megumi goes stiff, unsure of what to do with you. 

He should probably take you home.

“M’gonna take you home, okay?” Megumi says, feeling your body go a little more limp as you nod and pout in response.

Megumi easily picks you up, your legs dangling and your head falling against his chest, then he feels like he can’t breathe.

You look so pretty even when your skin flushes a little pale from being so sick and your baby hairs stick to your clammy skin. He carries you around the side of the house to avoid taking you back through the loud ass party.

You don’t make a peep as Megumi sits you in the passenger seat of his car, your head falling against the car window as he pulls your seatbelt over your shoulder, clipping it by your waist. He quickly sends Yuji a message to let him know he’s taking you home, though he doubts Yuji will pay attention to his phone since he seemed to be having a really good time taking shots and singing bad karaoke.

The car ride is silent and all Megumi can think about is what you said.

Maybe he kind of was being an ass to you. He hadn’t made much of an effort to get to know you or make you feel welcome because, in all honesty, you freak him out with how you made him feel without even trying.

So instead, he ignores you.

Pretending he doesn’t notice how your tongue pokes out from between your lips when you’re deep in focus, or how you always wear fuzzy socks around the house when you don’t have classes, or how you do a little jump to reach things on the higher shelves (which makes him melt), or how you still look at him with such kindness despite how piss poor he behaves around you.

Megumi holds you close as he opens your bedroom door, pushing it the rest of the way open to set you down on your bed. Your hair is messy and your clothes are disheveled, a little pout on your cute little lips as you sway slightly. 

You fall back onto your bed, your head hitting the soft pillow. Megumi sighs before sitting on the edge of your bed, large hands reaching to pull your shoes off for you. 

Your feet look like they hurt, little red blisters forming on your heels and toes. He gently pulls your shoes off and sets them down by your bedside table. You sigh with relief at the feeling of having your feet free of their heel prison. 

Megumi breathes softly and just studies you for a moment. It’s dark in your room but he can see the gentle outline of your face and the curve of your cheek. Your room is quiet apart from your soft breaths and Megumi prays you can’t hear his thumping heart. 

Megumi lets his eyes wander, unable to tear his gaze away from the soft lacy hem of your bra peeking over your top. His breath hitches in his throat and he suddenly feels disgusting for wondering if your panties match your bra— He closes his eyes, biting the inside of his lip.

You whine in your sleep, some of your hair falling in front of your face as you squirm. Without thinking, he reaches up and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, thumb brushing over your cheek.

You stir at the feeling and Megumi pulls away, scared he woke you.

“Mm, where’m I?” you slur, eyes still pressed closed.

“You’re home, don’t worry,” Megumi replies softly.

“Mm, okay,” you breathe, “thanks, Yuji…”

Megumi’s heart sinks but his face remains unchanged. Of course you’d think Yuji took you home, he’s your friend. Why would you Megumi do something like that for you?

He pulls away from you with a quiet sigh, “get some sleep, Y/N.”

—

“How do you know he took me home?” You ask, shaking your head slightly as you restock the mini fridge under the counter with milk.

You managed to shake off the hangover after three days of staying curled up in bed drinking water, throwing back ibuprofen and watching kitchen nightmares on your laptop with all the lights off. But now you’re back at work being blinded by the awful fluorescent lights and smelling of burnt coffee.

Yuko presses a button on the coffee machine, “he texted Yuji, told him he was gonna take you home,” Yuko replies, her hands on her hips.

You let out a shaky sigh, eyebrows furrowed in confusion because why would Megumi have taken you home when he seems so perpetually annoyed by you?

And how did he even find you? You remember the smell of the weed in the bathroom and people yelling at you, then you remember stumbling into the backyard like a bumbling fool, then— 

Oh, no.

“I don’t even know where you went, you’re lucky Fushiguro kept an eye on you–”

“No!” You suddenly squeak.

Yuko gives you a dazed look, “what? What happened?”

You press your hands to your face, drawing out a muffled groan because it just fucking dawned on you who held your hair back in the garden that night.

“It was him!”

“What are you talking about? Who?”

“Fushiguro! He held my hair back in the garden! I called him an ass!” you whine.

Yuko pauses for a moment before she just starts laughing, pressing her hand to her mouth to muffle the sound. You look up at her with the most offended look on your face.

You throw a rag at her, “don’t laugh! I was so mean!”

“That’s one way to break the ice,” she giggles, flinching away from you as you playfully swat at her leg with another rag.

“Ozawa…” you whine, “he must be so mad at me.”

“He still took you home after that though? I think you’re overthinking it.”

“He should have left me there in that damp backyard in my own vomit!” you say dramatically. “No wonder he thinks I’m a fucking idiot.”

“I really doubt he thinks that,” Yuko rolls her eyes, becoming sick of this beating-around-the-bush mantra you’ve got going on.  

“I have to pay all the rent for like, a year as an apology.”

“Can you even afford that?”

“No!”

You slug around for the rest of your shift, moping about behind the counter and wishing the ground would just swallow you whole. When the end of your shift rolls around, you feel more and more nervous about going home now that you’ve figured out you called Megumi an ass to his face.

Before you clean the coffee machine, you make a coffee to take home for him since he seems to always drink the coffees you make for him even if he seems annoyed by you interrupting his studying. 

Your hands are shaking as you unlock the front door, holding a cup of hot coffee and a cinnamon bun in a paper back in your other hand. Your heart is in your throat as you push the door open, peeking inside.

You see Megumi from the front door, he’s sitting at his desk in the living room, laptop open and a few notebooks stacked beside him. Classes haven’t even ramped back up yet and he’s already studying.

You kick your shoes off and shuffle down the hall, heartbeat thumping in your ears and suddenly feeling a chill down your spine at the idea of facing your roommate who you insulted.

You clear your throat, “uh, h-hey.”

Megumi has his earbuds in but he notices you standing there in the corner of his eyes. He takes his earbuds out, “you okay?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I got you a coffee.”

You place it down beside him. He doesn’t take his eyes off yours.

Your knees feel weak under his steely gaze. You quickly hand him the paper bag, “and a cinnamon bun.”

“Thanks,” he says simply.

There’s a long awkward pause before you huff out a shaky sigh, “listen, Fushiguro– I’m sorry about the other night when I like, threw up everywhere and called you an ass–”

“S’fine,” Megumi replies blankly.

“No, really, I was mean and rude and I didn’t mean it–”

“I know, idiot,” he cuts you off again, “seriously, it’s fine.”

Your lips form a tight line, eyebrows furrowed with worry because it’s not fine. You want to say more but you’re pretty sure Megumi doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Which is understandable, you’re just happy he hasn’t kicked you out yet.

You toy with your fingers for a moment before you nod awkwardly, shuffling off toward your room. You miss as Megumi watches you leave again, feeling stupid for how bad he is at talking about his feelings.

You avoid Megumi like the plague after that.

You’re so utterly embarrassed by what you said and you can only imagine how mad he is about it but at least he’s doing you a favour by not mentioning it.

You disappear from any room he walks into, slinking by and apologising awkwardly when you take up too much time in the bathroom, or bowing your head and averting your gaze when he walks into the kitchen, you’re embarrassed and you feel awful, and it bothers you that Megumi is so vague and mysterious about how he feels about you, sure he took you home and pulled your dirty shoes off your feet and put you to bed. But he also gives you curt nods and vague responses that leave you wondering whether or not he likes you or just tolerates you. 

Are you friends? Just roommates? Does he like you? Does he hate you? 

You’ve got no earthly idea and the easiest way to survive in such a predicament is to just avoid the very thing that’s causing the problem. 

And Megumi is so damn annoyed by it.

At first it was him who was avoiding you, hiding away in his room so he didn’t have to interact with you and now that he knows you’ve been trying to get him to notice you, he’s been trying to linger around nearby and sort of force the proximity because he has no idea how to approach you like a normal fucking person. 

He reaches things for you on the top shelf when you can’t reach them, he makes sure to take your sweaters out of the washing machine so they don’t shrink, he even sets aside the caramel flavoured coffee pods for you because he knows they’re your favourite. 

He’s bad at all of this. The talking part.

What if you think he’s too needy or too clingy or too much? That would just embarrass him even more than he already is. 

Megumi lets you be, assuming that you’re probably regretting everything you said that night after he so blatantly blew you off when you brought home a coffee for him the other night.

But you talk again when your car doesn’t start.

“Fuck,” you groan, turning your key in the ignition for the third time in the past minute, the engine ticking, ticking, ticking before you give up. You whine and give a half-hearted punch to the steering wheel. 

You knew this would happen eventually. 

Your car is run down and sort of shitty. You have to basically shoulder check the driver’s side door to get it open and you can’t actually open one of the back doors anymore because it refuses to unlock. But you’re broke and the damn thing gets you from A to B, except for today.

It’s raining and your hair is stuck to your head from the mad dash you did from the front door to your car and now it won’t even start. 

You’re basically drenched when you step back inside the front door.

“I thought you left already?” Megumi questions from the kitchen, holding a bowl of cereal in his hand.

“My stupid car won’t– oh,” you cut yourself off when your eyes meet with Megumi clearly fresh out of the shower.

He’s wearing grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips and no shirt, little droplets of water slipping down his broad shoulders and chest from his slightly damp hair. He’s looking at you with a bored expression, waiting for you to continue.

You clear your throat and decide the ceiling is so very interesting, “u-uh, yeah, my car won’t start, ‘m just gonna walk–”

“You’re gonna walk?” Megumi’s eyes narrow.

“I mean I’m poor so,” you give a sheepish laugh.

Megumi rolls his eyes, putting the bowl of cereal down on the counter and turning on his heel to pull his black hoodie off the couch, slipping it over his head.

“We’ll take my car,” he says, grabbing his keys off the side table beside the couch.

Your eyes widen, “huh? What– no, it’s fine–”

“Walking in this weather would be dumb,” Megumi grumbles, “just get in my car, idiot.”

You press your mouth shut and do as you're told, trailing behind him as he picks up his umbrella by the door, holding it over your head as you take the short walk to his car. Megumi holds the umbrella completely over you, the heavy rain completely drenching his left shoulder.

“You’re getting wet,” you point out.

“M’aware,” he retorts without looking at you.

Your shoulder bumps with Megumi’s bicep given the height difference between you. You’ve never been this close to him before, well, at least not sober. You never realised how much taller he is than you, it makes you feel kind of safe.

Megumi unlocks his car and opens the door for you, holding the umbrella completely over you until you’re safe in the passenger seat of his car. You curl your fingers around your tote bag nervously, Megumi getting in the driver’s seat.

“Thank you,” you squeak out.

Megumi starts up his car, his car being one of those ones that has a push button to start instead of a key, “I don’t mind,” he shrugs.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, your heart punching against your chest. You take a breath before you look over at Megumi.

“Do you hate me, Fushiguro?”

The question just hangs there and Megumi feels his heart falter at such a question because no, he doesn’t hate you. Not even a little.

It upsets him that you think he hates you, that you think so little of yourself that you let yourself get torn up over what he thinks of you.

He had no idea he was coming off that way, that you genuinely thought he hated you. 

He opens his mouth to speak but it never comes out. He’s not sure what to say or what to do to make you see that hate is the furthest thing from his mind when it comes to you. But instead, Megumi’s mind is choked with thoughts and it’s so overwhelming that he just clutches the steering wheel and silently drives you to campus. 

He still hasn’t spoken when he parks the car.

The two of you are silent for a moment before he hears you sniffle, his heart snapping in two at the mere sound of it. 

“T-Thank you,” you murmur, quickly pushing the door open and shuffling out before Megumi can protest.

No. Fuck. No, he didn’t mean it like that.

“Y/N, wait,” he gets out of the driver’s side, umbrella clutched in his fist.

You’re holding your tote bag tight to your chest as you walk across the pavement in the pouring fucking rain. 

“Y/N!” Megumi is behind you, his hand curling around your upper arm and stopping you in your tracks.

You pause, turning to face him, eyes glassy and doe-like as you stare up at him, “what is it?” you force out. 

You both hope he says something, anything. He pants, his hair sticking to his face as his steely eyes show the first ounce of emotion you’ve seen from him. 

“Y-You…” Megumi doesn’t stammer, he never does. “Take it,” he holds out the umbrella for you.

A silence hangs between you and you sigh, taking the umbrella from his grasp and opening it above your head, leaving him there in the carpark. 

—

Megumi beat himself up over it for days.

He picks you up that same rainy afternoon, the two of you not uttering a single word to one another other than a ‘hey’ from him and a ‘thank you’ from you. He wants to tell you everything, that he’s really bad at talking about things and that he doesn’t hate you. 

He’s not sure how to prove it to you, the words dying in his throat the moment he shares a room with you for more than five seconds. He’s not sure what to say or how to say it.

Hana always told him he talked too much. Which was crazy because Megumi was a man of very few words. But when the two of them would fight, he was always so adamant at resolving the issue and getting to the root of the problem instead of just letting it hang in the air and choke him.

He sometimes wonders if that’s why she cheated.

You don’t talk to Megumi for a while. Feeling small and embarrassed about asking him such a question when you knew deep down it wasn’t true and you just wanted to hear it from him. 

But it hurt when he didn’t deny your question, when he just stayed silent and let you fuss over it for days. You’ve lost sleep, laying away at night and wondering if you should just talk to him. 

Megumi tries to approach you, he really does. 

He thinks about knocking on your bedroom door late at night but every time he finds himself standing outside, arm held up about to knock, he stops himself and wonders if he even deserves to talk to you. 

If he even deserves to try again. 

“I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

He knew it wasn’t true at face value. He knew Hana wasn’t good for him in the end, but it’s hard to ignore such bitterness coming from someone you used to love. 

“Hey, Yuko,” you greet softly, phone pressed to your ear. “Can I ask a favour?”

“Of course… you okay, Y/N?” Yuko asks slowly, her voice gentle.

You pause, “I just… I need a ride to campus until I can get my car fixed. Would you and Itadori mind if I tagged along? I’ll give you fuel money.”

Yuko pauses this time, “…You didn’t ask Fushiguro?”

You toy with your fingers nervously, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

She hums and nods, “We can take you, Y/N.” 

Yuko knows you well enough to know that something happened. You spoke so timidly and she could tell you were nervously fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. She would talk to Yuji about it; hopefully he could knock some sense into his best friend. 

It's first thing Monday morning when you emerge from your room with your tote bag over your shoulder and your hair done in a messy claw clip. You look tired, bags forming under your eyes and you make a beeline for the door without even acknowledging Megumi. 

“Do you need a ride?” Megumi sits up straighter on the couch and holds his keys up as if he didn’t set an alarm just to take you to class. 

“Uh, no, thanks. Ozawa and Itadori are taking me,” you say sheepishly, barely offering him a glance. 

Megumi’s heart cracks a little. He wants to say something, tell you he’s sorry and ask if he can please take you to class. But he doesn’t, mouth staying shut as he nods quickly, “right. Okay.” 

You leave without another word, the apartment feeling awful and still without you. Megumi’s leg bounces nervously and his blunt nails scratch at the inside of his knee. He’s anxious and he wants to fix it so desperately but he feels like he’s only making it worse.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yuji greets with a warm smile.

You offer him a half smile before getting in the back seat. Yuko and Yuji share a look with one another before Yuji backs out of the apartment parking lot. There’s an intensity hanging in the air and you just stare out the window with a blank expression, vaguely paying attention to the music on the radio.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Yuji asks softly, eyeing you through the rearview mirror.

“M’fine,” you whisper back, too afraid to trust your voice.

“What happened?” Yuko reaches back between the seats to touch your knee affectionately. 

You shrug, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Yuko pulls her hand away from you and glances at her boyfriend, the two of them making a silent agreement to talk to Fushiguro after dropping you off instead of going to their morning classes.

Yuji slams the door open, nearly sending Megumi flying into the roof with how loud it was, “Fushiguro!”

“The fuck are you yelling for?” Megumi spits, gaze softening slightly after realising Yuko was trailing behind Yuji.

Yuko frowns, “what did you say to Y/N?”

“What?”

“She was upset, Fushiguro,” Yuji crosses his arms, “what did you say to her?”

“Nothing,” Megumi defends quickly.

“Then why is she upset?” Yuko’s brows furrow.

Megumi sighs, “she just asked me if I hated her–”

Yuji cuts him off, “and what did you say?”

Megumi averts his gaze, “nothing.”

“You said what?” Yuko presses.

“I didn’t know what to say–”

“You say, ‘no Y/N, I don’t!’,” Yuji mocks before landing a punch to Megumi’s shoulder, “you upset her, bro.”

“I know,” Megumi grumbles.

“Then why didn’t you apologise?” Yuko asks.

“I didn’t know how,” Megumi dejectedly sighs. “I didn’t expect it.”

“She likes you, man. Like a lot,” Yuji shakes his head, his heart hurting a little at the fact that Megumi looks really torn up about the whole situation too.

There’s a long pause, “can you lie to her?”

“What?” Yuko and Yuji ask in unison.

“Tell her you can’t pick her up,” Megumi adds, “please.”

Yuji and Yuko share another look and Yuko sighs before nodding her head, taking out her phone to tell you that she and Yuji can’t come get you because Yuji’s brother called and needed his help. It’s not a great lie, but you’ll believe it at first glance.

—

Your phone buzzes in the middle of class. You’re tired and you feel like shit and the professor’s monotone voice is boring you half to death. You flip your phone over and read the message from Yuko.

Yuko <3: Hey, Y/N. Choso called and he needs to borrow Yuji’s car, we can’t come get you this afternoon. Sorry hun x

You frown.

Yuko <3: But don’t worry, Fushiguro is coming to get you.

You panic, quickly unlocking your phone to message her back, telling her you’ll get an uber or just walk but you get a message from an unknown number only a second later.

Unknown: I’ll come get you.

You rest your head in your palm and go to message him back telling him it’s fine but the speech bubbles appear and reappear before he sends the message.

Unknown: Please wait.

You let out a shaky breath, your heart pittering loudly in your chest. You zone out for the remainder of the class, nervously chewing on your nails and tapping on the desk. You don’t want to talk to Megumi, you really don’t. At least not while you feel like shit and your thoughts are a huge mess.

You sit on the grass after your lecture, pulling at the blades of grass by your feet while you stare at the ground, teeth nipping anxiously at the inside of your lower lip. You don’t know what Megumi wants to say to you or why he even agreed to pick you up if he was so against talking about whatever the hell was going on between you two.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when a pair of black sneakers intrudes on your line of sight, you know it’s Megumi from the little scuff marks on the edge since they’re so worn out but they’re his favourite pair.

He doesn’t say anything as he stares at you, hands shoved in the pockets off his hoodie like they always are. You wordlessly stand up, pulling your tote bag to your chest and pushing past him without a word.

“Y/N, I–”

You’re too far ahead of him now, making your way to his parked car on the curb. His head hurts and his chest is tight with nerves but he’s quick to unlock the car for you and let you scoot into the passenger seat.

Megumi quickly joins you, turning on the car and just sitting there for a moment, hands tight around the wheel. 

“I–” Megumi feels his throat close up, “I’m sorry.” You feel your eyes glass over but you don’t offer him anything else but he continues, “I don’t hate you, Y/N.”

“S’fine if you do,” you say quietly, “I know I can be annoying and intrusive–”

“–What? You’re not–”

“And I understand if you want me to move out–”

“No, Y/N, I don’t want that–”

You’re rambling now without thinking, “–nd I know you probably need me to move out cus of that girl at the party–”

“What girl?” Now he’s fucking confused.

“And she’s pretty and I saw you talking to her–”

Wait, his ex?

“–Wait, Y/N, that’s not–”

“And I’m sorry I was so drunk–”

“Y/N, stop!” Megumi didn’t mean to yell, but it instantly shuts you up. He peers over at you and you’re crying, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

“S’okay,” you sniffle, wiping your tears away.

“No, it’s not… You just wouldn’t shut up,” Megumi makes an attempt at dry humour, letting you know it was a joke by following up with a half-assed breathy laugh.

You just look at him, eyes slightly red.

“I– Fuck,” Megumi curses, knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel. 

The two of you stay silent, the only thing either of you hear is your quiet sniffling. Megumi sighs, running a hand through his messy hair before speaking, “...she cheated on me.”

Your eyes widen a little.

“That girl you saw. Yeah, she was my ex but… she cheated on me.”

“...I’m sorry, Fushiguro.”

“Stop calling me that,” he grumbles.

“It’s your name,” you retort.

“I don’t want you to call me Fushiguro,” he presses his eyes shut.

Your lips form a tight line and you just watch him, waiting patiently for him to continue because you can tell he’s trying really hard.

“Can you just call me Megumi,” he sighs. “Please?”

You nod, “okay, Megumi,” you whisper softly.

“...I don’t hate you, Y/N. Not even a little,” his eyes finally meet yours.

“You’re really bad at showing it,” you say with a breathy laugh.

“I know… M’just really–” he stops himself, his hand scrunching against the material over his thigh, “I’m just scared.”

Your heart shatters, a pout pulling at your lip because you feel like you’re about to cry again. You study him for a moment, your heart warming at the sight of Megumi Fushiguro being so utterly soft and nervous.

You hesitate for a moment before you reach your hand over the centre console to stop him from grabbing and pulling at his own thigh. His hand is cold and his palm is rough but it’s him. And you were sitting here thinking you needed his comfort when really he needed yours.

He flinches at the gentleness of your touch, your hand is smaller than his but it’s so soft and warm. 

He lets you wrap your fingers around the back of his hand, lets you roll his hand over and press your palm to his. It’s comforting and it’s sweet.

“You don’t need to be scared, Gumi.”

His heart flutters at the nickname and his steely blue eyes nervously meet yours. He nods his head slowly and you smile.

“Feel better?” You ask softly.

Megumi holds your hand in his, eyes still searching yours before they flicker down to your lips briefly. You catch the quick movement and your body reacts without any input from your brain, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“Gumi?”

Megumi doesn’t need much more motivation than that and his other hand lets go of the wheel to reach over and cup your warm cheek. Your breath hitches in your throat and your eyes flicker between his nervously. His eyes are half-lidded, nose grazing yours and your hand squeezes tight around his.

“S’okay,” he coos softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “M’gonna kiss you.”

Your heart is in your throat and you start overthinking it, thinking back to the maybe handful of times a boy has kissed you, but never a man, never someone like Megumi.

You nod your head quickly and a smile tugs at the corner of Megumi’s lip because you’re so fucking cute.

You feel the world melt away when Megumi’s breath fans across your lips, his hand coming to cup the back of your head, guiding you to tilt your head slightly as he finally, finally, closes the distance between you, his slightly chapped lips meeting yours.

You melt into his warmth, one hand nervously holding his while the other has a death grip on the strap of your tote bag. 

His lips move against yours, becoming a little more feverish and needy when you let out a soft whine. He feels himself go feral, wanting to drag you into the back seat and take you in this stupid parking lot where everyone can see.

But instead he takes it slow, pressing your lips against his and his hand tangling in your soft hair. You’re nervous and a little inexperienced, he can tell but it only drives him more insane.

He pulls away only a fraction, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips when he realises your lips chase his, your other hand coming to curl around his hoodie sleeve to bring him closer.

“Wasn’t so bad?” Megumi whispers.

You have the most innocent little look on your face, “does that mean you like me?”

Megumi can only chuckle softly at how damn cute you are, “I don’t just kiss any girl like that, Y/N.”

You nod timidly, “m’kay, Gumi.”

Megumi wants to kiss you again but refrains because he knows he’ll want to do other things to you with how you utter the nickname with such innocence, but you’re in a parking lot on your college campus and there are about fifty people that have walked by in the past ten minutes.

But when you get home?

“Megumi–” your hands are clutching the front of his hoodie as he kisses the side of your cheek, then your temple, then above your eyebrow, “wait a second.”

“S-Sorry,” he mutters against your warm skin. 

You’ve barely got one foot in the door and Megumi already has you pinned against the wall in the hallway, a large hand cupping your head while the other rests on your waist. He pants softly, lips itching to kiss you and kiss you hard.

“I’m sorry too,” you say breathlessly. “For not seeing.”

Megumi shakes his head, “you don’t need to be sorry.”

“But I am,” you murmur, “you’re really bad at talking about your feelings but I should have been more observant.”

“S’okay, Y/N,” he rests his forehead against yours, “m’just glad you let me pick you up.”

“I thought about just walking,” you giggle, “letting you grovel for a little longer.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“I’m glad I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you didn’t either,” he smiles softly, running the pad of his thumb along your cheek.

You fall silent, hands just holding onto his hoodie while he presses feather-light kisses to your face. You suddenly feel nervous when you feel a certain stiffness against your thigh.

“...Do you want to–”

“I’m a virgin.”

Megumi pulls away from you, “W-What?”

“You were gonna ask if we could… y’know,” your eyes shift away from him, “I panicked.”

Megumi laughs, like actually, laughs at that.

“Don’t laugh,” you playfully punch his shoulder, your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “A lot of people are still virgins in college.”

“M’not laughing at that,” he grins. “You’re just… you’re really cute.”

You feel your face heat at that, “stop it.”

“M’serious.”

“You’re always serious.”

“Whatever.”

You giggle softly, letting him press a soft peck to your lips.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie,” Megumi lies through his teeth, liking the way you flush and stammer at outing yourself. 

“Oh,” you say quietly. 

“Why ‘oh’?” He teases.

“Nothing,” you say quickly, brows knit.

“What?” he presses with a shit-eating grin. 

“Nothing,” you retort.

“...Did you want to have sex?”

Your heart drops, eyes widening slightly because yes, you do want to have sex with Megumi. You’d never really thought much about sex until him. Never thought you’d want a guy to manhandle you or put his hands all over your body until Megumi.

“Can we?” you ask timidly.

Megumi feels a pang in his heart because you’re so fucking cute he might pass away. He smiles before pressing a kiss to your forehead, “if you want to.”

“But do you want to?”

Megumi doesn’t need to think very hard about that one.

“I’ve wanted you in my bed since I first met you, Y/N.”

You breathe hard, your heart racing in your chest and you’re sure it’s loud enough for Megumi to hear how fucking nervous yet turned on you are. Your eyes fall to his lips again, revelling in the feeling of his breath fanning over your lips.

You press up on your tiptoes, Megumi’s head slowly tilting and following you, wondering what you’re doing. Your soft lips graze the shell of his ear and you smile cheekily, about to fucking out yourself with the last of your confidence. 

“Fuck me then.”

Megumi slams you against the wall, arms caging your body as he presses his lips hard against yours. The kiss is needy and feverish, a mess of clashing teeth and wandering hands. Megumi’s hand cups the back of your head, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss.

His tongue presses against your lips before sliding into your mouth, earning a soft whine from your throat that you didn’t mean to sound so desperate. Your fists curl around the material of his hoodie, pulling Megumi impossibly closer.

Megumi’s free hand drops from your waist to your hip, squeezing your skin. His other hand drops from your head to curl over your hips and grope your ass. Both of his hands cup your ass, kneading the soft flesh and earning a soft mewl from your throat.

“You sound so pretty, baby,” Megumi mutters against your lips, his messy hair tickling your forehead. You want to moan and whine at the nickname but instead you kiss him again.

You’ve got the hang of this kissing thing but you still have no fucking idea where to put your hands without making him uncomfortable– as if his hands aren’t groping your ass.

Megumi pulls away slightly breathless, “you wanna stop?”

“No,” you shake your head quickly, “no, I don’t wanna stop.”

Megumi grins, kissing your cheek, “okay, sweet girl.”

Megumi leads you to his bedroom, his hand never leaving yours and your other hand never letting go of his hoodie sleeve. He pushes his bedroom door open, his lips on your instantly as he backs you up to his bed. The backs of your thighs hit his mattress and you fall backward, bringing Megumi with you. 

Megumi chuckles softly against your lips before kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then the underside of your jaw, then your neck. His hand paws at the bottom hem of your sweater, his fingers slipping underneath to ghost over the skin of your bare tummy. 

“M’gonna take it off, okay?” 

You nod sheepishly, “okay.”

“You tell me if you want me to stop,” he breathes.

“I will, Gumi,” you reply with a whisper, kissing the tip of his nose.

Megumi grins affectionately before his hands grip the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up slightly. Your breath hitches in your throat and he slowly pulls your sweater upward and over your tits. You’re not wearing a shirt, just a lacy black bra, just like the one he got a peek of at the party.

“Pretty,” Megumi murmurs, pressing a kiss to your chest, right between your collarbones. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him against your hot skin as he peppers kisses across your chest, finally pulling your sweater over your head and tossing it aside. You’re left in your pretty bra and a short little skirt that finished above your mid thigh. 

God how he wants to bite and suck on your pretty plush thighs.

His hand snakes underneath you, fingers fiddling with your bra clasp at your back. Your breathing quickens and Megumi kisses your cheek, “s’okay… m’here.”

He unclasps your bra, the cups loosening around your tits and the straps going slack on your shoulders. His fingers ghost over your shoulder as he pulls the strap down your shoulder, pressing soft kisses in his wake.

“C-Can you go faster?” You whine, your voice quiet.

Megumi chuckles, lifting his head to peer up at you, pupils blown wide, “am I going to slow for you, pretty girl?”

You bite your lip, “mhm.”

Megumi lifts his thigh, pressing it between your legs to where you desperately want him. You whine when he presses his strong thigh against your clothed heat, your skirt bunching up at your waist. Your skin feels hot and you feel a wetness pooling in your panties, making your face flush with embarrassment at your own neediness.

“I’ve thought about this,” Megumi whispers, pulling your bra cup down, his large hand cupping your plush breast. “A lot.”

You moan softly, your nipples hardening under the cold chill of the air in his room.

“Thought about what you’d sound like.”

He lowers his head slightly, pressing long, wet kisses to your pretty nipples. Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him down and forcing him to nip and suck at the soft skin.

“Thought about how you’d look.”

You roll your hips involuntarily against his strong thigh, feeling the friction against your poor little clit. You moan underneath him, your heart racing as he lowers his head to kiss down your tummy to the hem of your skirt.

“Thought about how you’d taste.”

You suddenly let out a surprised gasp when Megumi pulls your lower body off the bed, your hands curling into his bedsheets for support. You peer down at him, your heart in your throat at the sight of Megumi between your legs, his fingers curling underneath the waistband of your skirt and pulling.

He drops the material on the floor, his large hands curling underneath your thighs and pulling them apart, “w-wait, Gumi.”

He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, “what is it, princess?”

“W-What are you doing?”

Megumi smiles against the inside of your thigh, “m’gonna eat your pretty pussy.”

Your hands curl into the sheets and you feel a glob of arousal seep from your cunt. If this is how fucked up he gets you just from kissing you, how the hell are you going to hold up with his tongue inside you?

“You okay with that?”

You nod your head quickly without thinking, a thin sheen of sweat already coating your skin. “P-Please–”

Megumi chuckles softly at how damn cute you are, his fingers hooking under the sides of your panties, pulling them down your legs. They’re covered in your arousal, your pretty pussy glistening under the warm glow of the setting sun.

God he wishes he could take a picture.

“G-Gumi?” You peer down at him, “s-stop staring.”

Megumi pulls your thighs over his shoulders, his hair tickling the insides of your spread legs, “sorry, sweet girl, she’s just s’pretty.”

You let out an involuntary moan when he presses a kiss to your swollen clit, the sudden attention sending a jolt of pleasure through your tummy. You want to slam your thighs closed, your body desperate for friction. 

“Don’t tease me,” you whine. “Please–”

Megumi’s fingers curl into your thighs, pulling them apart further and forcing your pussy lips open to press the flat of his tongue against your awaiting clit. 

“M-Megumi–”

You throw your head back against the bed, one of your hands pressing against the back of his head, forcing him closer to your pussy. No one has ever touched you like this, no one has ever put their mouth on you, no one has ever seen your pretty pussy and you couldn’t think of anyone better than Megumi Fushiguro to be the one to tongue-fuck you right now.

“You ever masturbated, baby?”

You whine, “a-are you teasing me or something?”

He smiles against your clit, tongue dipping down to lap up your slick, “maybe a little. I just wanna know if you’ve ever had something inside you.” His thumbs spread you open, his tongue flicking against your clit and making you whine even louder. “Shh, baby, we have neighbours.”

You don’t give a fuck right now.

“I’ve masturbated b-before,” you say after a hard huff, you feel fucking breathless.

“Oh, yeah?” Megumi presses his tongue against your little hole, lewdly slurping up the insane amount of arousal leaking from you. “You should show me.”

“No!” you whine, “so embarrassing.”

“I think it’d be hot,” the tip of his middle finger presses against your hole. “Maybe some other time.”

You cry out, hands gripping the sheets when Megumi presses the tip of his middle finger into your cunt. His fingers are thicker than yours and you can only imagine so much longer, able to press against parts of you you’ve never reached before. 

“Gumi–” you pant, “m-more.”

“More?” He raises a brow at you.

“Please, please–”

“You’re so cute.”

“Shut up!” you whimper, “js’ touch me–” Megumi can’t deny you, not when you sound so fucking gorgeous and you taste like fucking heaven. 

He presses his finger into you, twisting his hand around and curling his finger inside you. You want to cry, your eyes screwed shut and your belly burning. He fucks his finger into you slowly, his tongue lapping and sucking your clit while your thighs press against his head.

“Gonna add another one, okay, baby?”

You nod your head desperately and he smiles cheekily, pressing a second finger into you to stretch you open. You throw your head back at the delicious stretch, your slick coating Megumi’s fingers and dripping down his wrist.

Megumi feels your thighs pressing together harder and he forces your thigh down with his free hand, your knee almost hitting your chest with how he pins it down. He’s spreading you open, tongue flicking against your clit and fingers curling against your gummy walls.

“Gumi– m’gonna–” you feel your tummy burn and you’re so fucking embarrassed that you’re about to cum from just having two fingers inside you. You start to pant, hands tangling in his hair as lewd slurping and squelches fill his room.

“S’okay, baby. Cum on my mouth,” he groans against you, his cock rock hard from feeling your hips grind against his face. You might be a virgin but your body knows what it wants as you rut against his tongue and your legs shake.

Megumi suddenly shakes his head over your clit, his mouth covered in your slick and you just cum. It crashes into you like a fucking train and you whine and moan against the back of your hand as Megumi fucks his fingers into your sopping cunt, your hole spasming and clenching down on his fingers.

He scissors and curls his fingers inside you, fucking you through your orgasm and feeling a sense of pride but also getting a huge fucking ego boost that he’s the first man to ever make you cum.

Your chest is heaving up and down, your vision cloudy and your mind feeling fuzzy as you come back down from your high. Megumi pulls his fingers out of you, kissing the inside of your thigh and lapping up the mess you made all over yourself.

You sit up on your elbows, face flushed and hair dishevelled as you peer down at Megumi. You suddenly feel immensely embarrassed that he was just between your legs, his tongue flicking over your clit and his fingers deep inside you.

“Fuck, you taste better than I imagined,” Megumi licks his fingers clean while holding eye contact with you. 

You whine and flop back onto the bed, earning a soft chuckle from Megumi as he gets to his feet, attempting to find a towel or old shirt somewhere.

“Where are you going?” You ask timidly.

“M’gonna clean you up, don’t worry, I won’t go,” he replies, quickly pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“But…” your eyes flicker to the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Hm?” He follows your gaze. “Oh, m’okay, princess. It’s not about me anyway.”

“But, I want to–”

“S’okay, Y/N,” he lifts your hand, kissing your knuckles softly, “you can try some other time.”

“...Do you not want to?”

He grins, “course I want to.”

“Then let me,” you whine, pulling him closer to you. “Please.”

Megumi ponders it for a moment. He doesn’t want to frighten you and he’s so fucking scared of losing control and just bending you over and fucking your brains out. But the way you look at him with your pretty wide eyes and your hands gripping his thighs as he stands between your legs– 

How could he say no?

“You want to, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay… we’ll go slow,” he urges, petting your hair gently. 

You’re so fucking eager to please him that it makes him weak. Your post-orgasm body is shaky as you reach for the zipper of his pants, your fingertips grazing against the sensitive bulge. He groans softly, hand petting your head as he lets you figure it out, slowly unzipping his pants and pulling them down a little.

There’s a dark wet patch on his boxers, he’s so fucking turned on by your pretty sounds and your intoxicating taste that his cock is leaking and begging for attention.

“S’big,” you whisper, eyes widening.

And he hasn’t even pulled his cock out of his boxers.

He chuckles, “you flatter me, pretty.”

“N-No, really,” your pretty eyes meet his. “Is it gonna fit in my mouth?”

Holy fucking shit. 

He was thinking you were just going to give him a handjob and now you’re asking if he can fit in your mouth.

Megumi runs a hand through his hair, “fuck you drive me crazy.”

“I-I thought you wanted me to–”

“Baby. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Your eyes blow wide and you just about sparkle with anticipation, “then… can I suck your dick?”

Someone kill him and put him to rest because you’re about to be the death of him.

“Fuck yeah you can, baby.”

Megumi has to help you pull his cock from his boxers and your eyes just about bulge out of your head at the size of him. He’s long and thick and the tip is a pretty pink colour. It’s heavy too, almost too heavy to hold itself up.

He sits down on the bed and you get on your knees in front of him. He strips his hoodie off, his abs flexing as he leans back on his elbows, just watching you.

You bite your lip, suddenly intimidated.

“S’okay… just take it slow.”

You nod your head before your hand wraps around the base. Megumi suddenly groans and you pull away with a fright, “s-sorry!”

“No, no, baby–” he chuckles breathily. “Js’ a lot to take in having a pretty girl with her hands on my cock.”

You look away shyly and Megumi laughs, reaching out to cup your jaw, forcing you to look back at him. He sits up, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. You taste the remains of your orgasm on his tongue, pressing your thighs together as you feel yourself become a little aroused again.

He kisses you deeper, reaching his free hand out to cup your own, guiding you toward his hard neglected cock. “You can touch me, baby.”

Your hand wraps around the base and you squeeze softly, earning a groan from your pretty roommate. He guides your hand up and down and it’s painfully fucking slow but he’s just happy to have your hands on him.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs. “Doin’ so good.”

You beam at the praise, pressing your thumb against the leaky slit of his pretty cock head. Megumi groans, leaning back on his elbows and tipping his head back. You continue the motion, eyes gleaming with pride and innocence as you just watch him fuck your hand.

His hips jerk up, his cock pulsing in your hand.

You suddenly feel the urge to press your lips to his tip and when you do, Megumi nearly cums like a fucking teenager. 

“F-Fuck,” he grunts, his hand unintentionally pulling your hair, forcing out a pretty moan from your lips. 

You take the tip in your mouth, your tongue flattening against the head. You wonder if you’re doing it right but the way Megumi groans and his hand pushes your head further down his length, you think you’re doing a pretty good job.

“Such a good girl,” Megumi sighs, “feels s’good.”

You moan at the praise, taking a little more of his length down your throat. Your hands are squeezing his thighs, nails scraping against the taut skin and Megumi is doing everything in his power to not fuck his cock down your throat.

You start to drool, saliva slipping down your chin and coating his pretty cock. You suddenly gag on his cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

“F-Fuck,” Megumi feels his cock twitch at the cute fucking sounds you’re making. Your eyes are glassy, and you’ve got drool dripping down your chin and your cheeks are flushed so pretty. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby.”

You pump the base of his cock, your tongue clumsily swirling around his tip, eyes glued to him as you watch for his reactions. Megumi suddenly sucks in a breath and pulls your mouth off his tip with a quiet pop! quickly pumping his cock.

Hot ropes of sticky cum spill across your lips and face, Megumi tipping his head back with a deep groan, squeezing the base of his cock as it twitches and jumps.

“Fuck– you sure you’ve never sucked dick before– Oh, fuck.”

Megumi’s eyes dilate at the sight of his cum painting your pretty little face, your fingers swiping at the ropes of cum before you push them into your mouth, tasting him. 

“I do good?”

Megumi laughs breathlessly, “you did so good, baby girl.”

Megumi is quick to clean you up, using an old shirt to wipe the cum off your face while you sit there all pretty on your knees in front of him. He presses kisses to your face and your hair before pulling you into bed beside him, his fingertips tracing over your shoulder as you lay your head on his chest.

“You mean what you said?”

“Hm?”

“You like me?” You ask sweetly, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

Megumi sits up a bit, “I like-like you.”

“Wow. That’s a big call, Fushiguro.”

Megumi chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “remember it’s Megumi.”

“Gumi?”

“I like that too.”

“Mm, Megs?”

“Don’t push it.”

You giggle softly, curling into his side with a wide smile.

Megumi takes you to work and campus every day after that night, his hand always in yours when he walks you to class and he likes to pretend it annoys him how you wrap your hand around his arm and how you squeal his name when you see him after class.

When in reality, Megumi couldn’t be happier. In a twisted way, he’s glad you asked him if he hated you, because he was able to summon the courage to tell you the truth.

That he didn’t hate you. Not even a little.

author's note: the way i been pulling all nighters for DAYS. i was about to kill these two I TELL YOU JUST MAKE OUT PLS I CANT–

taglist: @starpachinko @2ukika @sukunabish @somethinglikero @wannabewolf @milliex01x @princessa143 @hrithi11 @katsukita69 @slayzzz @arcanefeelings @shirabu-k @izzzzzzig @zah2890 @evergumi @aerareads @flashilyquinn @raedollsstuff @happylildeath @anormieee @l1v1ngzomb1e @kimkimoruo @sunnyf4lls @saekolust @kalulakunundrum @xastoriaaurax @feliaeae @sleepyxzn @mahazsine

[kingkatsuki]

— my protector

Tengen needs your help in trying to locate his wives on a mission, and Sanemi is furious.

Get me a man who’s only soft for us, stat😫😭

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, reader is a fellow hashira, jealous Sanemi (for literally no reason), possessiveness, rough sex, slight degradation, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding, creampie.

Word Count: 4.2k.

All Sanemi could see was red, fiery red as he roamed the halls of the Butterfly Mansion, ignoring the pain in his right arm from the wound Aoi had just patched up moments earlier.

“Shinobu will kill you if she finds you drawing your sword in here!” Aoi called after him, but Sanemi could care less as his eyes sought out the Sound Pillar.

He had just returned from a three-week-long mission to find out that Uzui had enlisted you for help on one of his missions. Practically offering you up as bait to try and find his wives who had gone missing, like that was even your problem. And Sanemi knew you were always so eager and willing to help, it was something he loved and loathed about you at the same time.

The rage continued building inside him as he pulled open another sliding door aggressively, the wood gliding back from the force as he skimmed another empty room before continuing further through the mansion.

“Listen to me, Shinazugawa.” Aoi huffed, followed after him as one of the only people inside the mansion who weren’t scared of the white-haired man, “I told you Shinobu won’t be pleased to find out you’re breaking all her doors.”

“Fuck her,” Sanemi rolled his eyes, “Where’s Uzui?”

“If you would’ve actually stopped for five minutes to let me explain, instead of being such a jerk,” Aoi crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, “He left with her a few hours ago. Said it couldn’t wait much longer, that his wives may be in danger—”

“How the fuck is that her problem?” Sanemi growled, “So he isn't here?”

“No, but I would advise you don't follow him. Your wounds—” Sanemi ignored Aoi, already halfway down the hall as he marched towards the entrance, determined to find you on his own. It was when he stepped into the courtyard that he saw Uzui coming in by the front gate with a wide smile on his face.

“Ah, my crow told me you were back!” Uzui made to step towards him to finish the conversation, but Sanemi’s sword was already drawn as he stepped towards the larger man, “Perfect timing, my friend!”

“You fucking left her there?” Sanemi barked, “Why are you back here?”

“I came to get you at the request of your lady love,” Uzui grinned as Sanemi curled his lip in irritation at the pet name, “She made me promise to tell you as soon as you got back from your mission because she wouldn’t be around. And I thought you'd prefer a personal greeting.”

“Why the fuck are you sending her on your missions anyway,” Sanemi continued, ignoring Uzui's grin, “And leaving her there!”

“It hasn’t even been twelve hours,” Uzui shrugged, standing in place even as Sanemi stepped towards him.

“That’s already twelve hours too damn long, you prick.” Sanemi drew his sword as he made to lunge towards his fellow hashira.

“She’s probably safer there than she’d ever be out in the field,” Uzui dodged a blow with the hilt of his sword, the guard barely protecting his hands as he used his body weight to push the Wind Pillar back.

“Probably?” Sanemi roared, “She’s probably got sick fucks like you all over her right now.”

“Oh,” Uzui’s lips curled into a cocky smirk at the admission, standing upright as he pushed some fallen hair away from his eyes, “So that’s it— you’re jealous.”

“I ain’t jealous, you fuckwad.” Sanemi grunted as he attempted another slash towards Uzui, knowing it was serious when the wind user hadn’t even bothered to use his power.

“Sure seems like it,” Uzui scoffed, taking another step back to avoid his attack, “Nothing is stopping you from visiting her, you know. She’s only a few towns across and I'm here to take you right to her.”

“Oh, you’re taking me to her,” Sanemi spat, “Right fucking now.”

“Someone is asking for me?” You raised a brow suspiciously at the implication. Wondering if this meant the demons had realised that you were in fact a slayer intent on taking their head. Your stomach swirled in trepidation as you tried not to show any fear, smiling at the young girl by the door as you bowed your head.

“Yeah, and frankly I’m glad,” She clung to the belt of her kimono, “He looks scary!”

“I definitely don’t want to spend the night with him,” Another girl grimaced, “I don’t think I’d make it out alive.”

You frowned, worried that you wouldn’t have time to access your katana to holster it beneath your kimono. Instead, all you had was the small dagger strapped against your thigh, which you were certain wouldn’t be enough to protect you from the attack of a demon. But at least it was better than nothing, knowing he wouldn’t attack until you were at least secure back inside this room as you bowed your head. Following her down the stairs to the entrance of the establishment, feeling a cool breeze tickle your ankles from the open door and curtain flowing in the wind.

Your heart stilled when you noticed the familiar man standing by the entrance, glaring at anyone who dared look his way as you felt your chest swell with familiarity. You hadn’t expected to see him here this night, and you certainly hadn’t expected him to be asking after you.

“Is this the girl you were asking after, my Lord?”

“Yes,” He grunted as the Madame motioned him to step forward and follow you back to your room.

You had to stop yourself jumping him in the foyer, wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and cling to his broad shoulders.

Feeling the heat practically radiating from his body as you slid open the sliding door to your room, stepping to the side to allow Sanemi to follow before sliding it shut. And in an instant, his rough hands were grabbing hold of the fat at your hips to pull your body against his, your lips meeting in a bruising kiss.

Your hands reached up to thread through his messy hair as the scent of the woods mixed with his natural sweat invaded your senses. He clearly hadn’t bothered to bathe when he returned from his mission, far more concerned with finding you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He spoke against your lips when you finally pulled away for air, still holding onto you as your nails dragged against his scalp, “I had to come home to find out you’re helping Uzui?”

“Tengen needed my help,” You murmured, and Sanemi’s nose scrunched in irritation at the use of the Sound Pillars' first name.

“Tengen,” He mocked the pitch of your voice, “Has three fucking wives that can help him, I only have one.”

“Technically,” You parroted his tone, giving him a cocky smirk as you felt his fingers press into the skin at your hips, “I’m not even your wife.”

“You’re as good as,” Sanemi scoffed as he stole another kiss, “And Uzui would do well to remember it.”

“His wives are missing,” You mumbled sadly.

“So does that mean he’s looking for a fourth?” Sanemi frowned at you as you couldn’t help but smile and shake your head at his jealousy.

“No,” You lowered your voice to a whisper, “He hasn’t heard from them for a few days, the letters have stopped coming— and he thinks something bad may have happened to them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sanemi couldn’t lie that it had hurt to find out from someone else that you wouldn’t be there upon his return, whether it was jealousy or the fear of losing you he was unsure. But either way, it left him with that familiar sense of dread that pooled in the pit of his stomach and threatened to boil over.

“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t much time,” You did wish you’d sent your crow to warn him, but Uzui had promised you that he would let Sanemi know. Especially since you were doing this for the sake of his wives, “He needed my help, so I offered.”

“You’re far too nice.” Sanemi shook his head, using his grip on your hips to pull you into another sultry kiss.

“I thought that’s why you loved me.” You teased.

“No,” Sanemi scoffed, “I love you for your perfect ass,” He spanked your cheek for emphasis, “Everything else is either a bonus or a crux on my life.”

“You pig.” You scrunched your nose as Sanemi couldn’t stop himself from stealing another kiss.

“I’m kidding, sweetheart,” Sanemi’s eyes softened as he reached up to cup your face in a calloused palm. His thumb stroking gentle circles against your cheek as you leaned into his touch, “But you really should stop putting yourself in harm's way.”

“I’m a hashira,” You replied simply, “It’s what we do to protect others.”

“Protecting others doesn’t mean becoming a whore.” He spat, although you knew there was no malice there. The harsh tone covered up the fear and dread he felt in your gut at the prospect of something happening to you.

“And yet here you are, at the whorehouse requesting me by name.” You smiled back, relishing in the pink hue that dusted his pale cheeks.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” His tone sobered, resting his forehead against your own as he stared down into your eyes, “What a pitiful existence it would be.”

“You won’t lose me, Sanemi.” You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull his body against you, feeling his semi-hard cock press against your hip. The time without you made even more conspicuous when he's now surrounded by the comforting scent of you again.

“Did anyone touch you?” He immediately pulled back, concern evident in his features as he looked you over.

“No, I’ve been fine,” You shook your head, “They’ve mainly had me sitting down for tea with travellers passing through.”

“Good,” He pressed a kiss against your forehead in relief as he exhaled softly, “You have no idea how much I missed you, sweet girl.”

He peppered kisses along the curve of your jaw as you tilted your head back to give him more room. Your hands smoothed along his collarbones before dipping lower to trace patterns against the marred skin that scarred his chest, pressing your fingers into the ridges as you felt the tacky sweat clinging to his skin.

“I missed you too,” You whimpered gently as his teeth found your pulse point, biting down on the sensitive skin as his tongue lashed against it.

Sanemi bullied his muscular thigh between your parted legs to keep you steady against the wall as he shamelessly fiddled with the belt of your kimono. Letting the fabric fall open as he drank in the sight of your bare skin beneath, his firm hands immediately paw at your bare sides. Noticing the small dagger that you had holstered against one of your thighs as he ran his fingers over the handle of it in satisfaction.

“That’s my girl.” He murmurs, “Not planning to use that on me are you?”

He teased, pushing it back into the holster as he moved his hands back up the curve of your hips towards your chest. Truth be told, he was relieved that you had some form of protection in here. Especially when there was the chance that a demon was responsible for the spate of missing persons in the area.

“It depends if you’re nice to me or not,” You mused.

“I’m always nice.” The words coming from Sanemi’s lips alone were enough to have a melodic laugh rumbling in your chest, as for most, Sanemi and nice were complete contradictions.

“Liar,” Throwing your head back in a pretty laugh that had Sanemi’s heart rattling against his rib cage.

“I mean, I’m always nice to you, aren’t I?” Sanemi’s thumbs stroked the underside of your breasts as he delighted in the way your body responded to him, curving your back towards him as your bare cunt pressed against the flat of his thigh.

“We shouldn’t,” You murmured, “Not here—”

“Let me have this, sweetheart,” He hummed, leaning down to capture one of your pebbled nipples between his lips as he sucked hard, “I am a paying customer, after all.”

In fact, he was going to get that money from Uzui for his pure subordination.

“Why pay for something you can get for free at home?” You teased as he afforded your other breast the same attention, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as you let out another airy moan.

“My girl wasn’t there when I arrived home, and I had heard the girls here were beautiful,” He played along, “Apparently there’s one with the best fuckin’ pussy.”

“Oh yeah?” You gasped as you felt his fingers press against the indents of your thighs, dangerously close to your labia as you bucked against his leg. Giving your clit some slight relief as Sanemi continued forward, his thumb brushing through the wet slick that coated your folds as it drooled out of your neglected hole.

“Yeah,” He repeated, pulling away from your breast with a pop as he found your clit. Pressing sloppy circles against it with the calloused pad of his thumb as he watched you shamelessly grind yourself into his touch, “Apparently she’s already fucked into the shape of another guy though.”

“Must be a lucky guy,” Your eyes rolled back, knocking your head against the wall when you felt two of his thick digits slip inside your tight hole with ease. Scissoring them to loosen you up as he pulled back to watch you inquisitively through half-lidded eyes.

“The fuckin’ luckiest.” Sanemi grinned as he felt your walls throb around his fingers. He deliberately curled them towards the spongy spot inside you that he knew would have you seeing stars as he began to focus each roll of his wrist against it.

His name continued to spill from your lips as he kept his movements poised and focused, his rough thumb kneading circles against your clit as he worked you towards your release. No one knew your body better than he did, and he knew after being pent up for so long how little effort it would take to have you dangling on the edge of your release.

“Fuck, Sanemi.” You moaned, already feeling yourself dangerously close to falling, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” He spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and his blase tone immediately had your cunt clenching around him as you swan dived directly into your bliss. The pleasure surged through your body hard and fast as you came undone, his darkened eyes focused on your movements a he kept his fingers pressed against that same velvety spot. Following the wave of your hips as you rode out your release, unrelenting against the sensitive area as he already had you hurtling towards a second.

It was too much, and not enough at the same time. Your pliant walls throbbed around his slick digits as you wished for something more, something bigger.

“‘Nemi, fuck me please.” You whined pitifully.

“Such a filthy mouth on such a pretty girl,” He teased, but he pulled his fingers away from your sopping heat, lifting them up to the light to spread them as you noticed the silvery webs of your release clinging to them as he pushed them between your lips to taste yourself.

You tried to speak, but the pads of his fingers against your tongue muffled the words as you cleaned them off. His lips curled into a satisfied smile as he pulled them out of your mouth, dragging your glossy bottom lip down in the process as both hands immediately reached for his belt.

“When we get home I am fucking you like you deserve.” Sanemi spoke coolly, “Not some quick fuck in a whorehouse.”

“I deserve everything you give me, 'Nemi.” You smile up at him lazily before watching him tug his pants down, revealing his fat cock to your prying gaze.

You immediately reached for it, and he let you. Hissing when your smaller palm wrapped around the girth of him, giving him a teasing jerk that had his nostrils flaring and his jaw locking. Your thumb swipes over the swollen tip to gather the pearl of pre before smoothing it down his length, delighting in the choked grunt that rumbled at the back of his throat.

“Is that so?” He continued, “So bending you over the moment I get you home will be deserved,” His voice darkened, his own palm joining yours against his length as he tightened your grip on his cock, holding your hand steady as he fucked himself into your fist, “You tease.”

“Fuck,” Your cunt throbbed around nothing at his suggestion, as you instinctively spread your legs further apart, “Please, 'Nemi.”

Sanemi curled a palm beneath your thigh to hoist it up against his hip, spreading you open for him as you guided the leaky tip of his cock between you. Stroking it against your drenched folds as you coated him with your essence, moaning when the swollen tip nudged your puffy clit. Feeling yourself growing more impatient as Sanemi pulled his hips back to tease you, pushing your hand away from his cock as he wrapped himself in a fist. Pressing the head against your tight entrance as he felt your hole tremble against him, trying desperately to coax him in as he indulged himself with your reaction.

“‘Nemi, don’t be an asshole,” You pouted as you tried to can’t your hips forward, feeling the tip breach your entrance before he was quick to move his hips back. More than content with teasing you, despite being in such an open, compromising place.

“If I were an asshole I’d leave you unsatisfied like this to search for the demon myself,” He goaded, pressing his hips forward once more.

“Sanemi,” You whined in irritation, “Don’t tease me, please, it’s been too long.”

He didn’t give you a moment to think before he was bullying his cock inside your tight cunt. Your inner walls stretched to accommodate his girth as he moulded you to the shape of him once more, reminding you of exactly who you belonged to. The sensation stole the air from your lungs as you could do little but cling to his broad shoulders as he afforded you a moment to adjust to his size, dragging himself from your velvety walls before canting his hips forward again. Setting a languid motion as he slowly rolled his hips against you.

“Sanemi,” You sighed in satisfaction as you felt whole once more. Too many lonely nights were spent dreaming of this as you felt him finally bottom out, the coarse hairs at the base tickling your clit as you bit down on your bottom lip.

“We’re in a whorehouse,” He mused, still sluggishly rolling his hips into you, “It only seems right that I treat you like one.”

Your cunt clenched around his cock hard at the notion, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sanemi who grinned in satisfaction. His fingers tighten their grip around your thigh as he takes this as his answer.

Sanemi is brutal as he fucks into you, not sparing you a moment's peace as he uses you for his own gratification. The sound of skin against skin echos the small room as his balls slap against the curve of your ass with each forward cant of his hips. The ferocity of his thrusts has your breasts bouncing and your thighs crying out for some relief as you struggle to stand upright, thankful that Sanemi’s strong body has you pinned against the wall as he fucks into you.

“Oh my god,” You cry out, nails digging into his skin as he maintains his pace. His other hand squeezes at the fat of your ass as he angles his hips, the curve of his cock drags against the spot inside you that he knows will have you seeing stars as the blunt tip kneads your cervix.

“Look at me.” Sanemi growls, his warm breath fanning your face as he keeps a consistent pace.

Your eyes meet his and you’re certain you’ll cum under the intensity of his gaze alone, your cunt clenches in retaliation as he continues to thrust into your sopping hole. Each sultry moan he pulls from deep in your chest has him rolling his hips with more vigour, eager to have you repeat them as he works you towards your climax.

It’s pitiful really, how easily he has you submitting to him as you already feel the telltale signs of your climax ebbing in your pelvis. The pressure builds up as it nears breaking point as Sanemi pushes into you with more ferocity, using your body for his own means as he works himself to his own release.

“I’m going to leave you pumped full of my seed,” He growls against your cheek, his chest heaving as he feels his balls begin to tighten, “Leave it drooling down your thighs when I’m finished with you. So that everyone knows who you belong to—”

You knew this was a direct attack on Uzui, and the fact that he’d handpicked you for his assistance on this mission. Even though there was nothing in it beyond securing the safety of his wives, it had Sanemi oozing with jealousy and he was intent on reminding the Sound Pillar that you were not his plaything.

“Do you also need a reminder of who you belong to, sweetheart?” Sanemi spoke lowly as he fucked into your pliant walls, slipping a hand between your connected bodies to press sloppy circles to your clit.

“No, ‘Nemi—” That familiar sensation throbbed between your thighs as you teetered on the cusp of your climax.

“No? Then who do you belong to?”

“You, ‘Nemi. You—” You choked out, leaving messy red lines against his chest now as he pressed harder against your clit.

“Louder.”

“You, ‘Nemi! It’s always been you!” You cry out, certain that the rest of the floor could hear you as you began to gush around his cock. Your hips bucked wildly as he pinned you in place, keeping his thumb firm against your clit as he watched you ride out your climax. Indulging in the debauched noises that escaped from between your pretty, bruised lips.

“Good girl,” He snarled before moving his hand from your clit to resume a damn near savage pace. Rutting hips against your own messily, working himself towards his own end as he felt the way your walls continued clenching around him in the aftershocks of your climax, “Such a good girl for me.”

He arched his back so he could look down at where your bodies were connected, watching the way his thick cock disappeared inside your velvety walls. And the creamy ring of slick that you’d left around the base of him, the silvery lines matting into his pubes as he felt his balls begin to seize. Certain he wouldn’t be able to last much longer before giving a few more sloppy thrusts and emptying his balls into your warm, wet cunt.

Sanemi stayed buried inside you, feeling the last spurts of his orgasm surge through him as he coated your walls in thick, white spunk. Cherishing the final few flutters of your walls around him as you both came down from your highs, peppering kisses against your face as you placed a palm against his chest to feel his racing heart, the dull thump of it soothing you as you felt your thick lashes begin to flutter.

“Don’t fall asleep, sweetheart.” Sanemi rasped, starting to pull himself out of your spent cunt as you whined in objection. Trying to tighten your thigh around him to keep his hips in position as he grinned down at you; pressing an apologetic kiss to the side of your lips before looking down to see the mess of your combined release stringing against his length as the silvery lines split apart, “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta.”

You knew he had to go, Uzui was probably still waiting for him on a rooftop somewhere. Hopeful that you’d have some news to share with Sanemi about the whereabouts of his wives, but you felt the regret begin to pool in the pit of your stomach as reality settled back in.

“If you want to leave with me, I’ll take you right now,” He said as though it was the most simple thing in the world, “But if you want to stay in I’ll be watching.”

You didn’t have to tell him your answer, he already knew. Placing a final, lingering kiss on your lips as he held you in his arms, “Nothing will ever happen to you as long as I’m around.”

[inkedells]

pairing: old!logan x f!reader

Logan is sick and tired of you treating him like he's fragile. He'll ignore his relentless pain to show you what it's like to be taken apart, rough and slow, then fast and agonizing.

wc: 3.5k of pure smut

warnings: heavy smut, lap sitting, fingering, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), dirty talk, facials, p in v, ruined orgasms, snowballing, kind of angsty, the claws come out, logan is angry with you, kinda toxic, definitely mean, but still kind of sweet, pwp basically, blood, but it's not bloodplay, it's just logan not caring if he's hurt, if i missed any let me know.

Logan comes home and throws himself back on that torn-up leather sofa, thumb flicking his lighter while the other holds a cigar. It’s less of a distraction from the ache in his bones, and more of a device to push you away. Because if you think he’s tired or angry or hurting, you won’t ask him to fuck you.

It’s not like he doesn’t want you. Of course he does. It’s the sympathy in your eyes when he gets tired from just a couple of minutes of thrusting that he hates. The whispered, “It’s okay. baby, I can ride you.” The gentle touches across his body and his neck and his face and his beard. It all reeks of pity. And if you were to sit him down one day and ask him why he hates being taken care of, he wouldn’t have an answer. He would push the voice in his head down into the void that all the strength he had left fell in, the voice shrinking until it’s nothing as it screams, because I’ve never been taken care of, and I would’ve loved it back when being taken care of wasn’t my only choice.

But it’s fine. You wouldn’t ever ask him that question because he knows for a fact that you don’t know. If you did, you wouldn’t be climbing onto his lap quietly, hands rubbing his sides as you press kisses to his neck.

“I missed you, Logan,” You whisper. Your hips aren’t moving; He knows he sat here like this to avoid fucking you, but he almost wishes you were seeking exactly that. Sex, as embarrassing as it would be for him, is better than your sick love. He doesn’t think you love in the way lovers do. It’s the kind of love meant for sick puppies, or the lonely old woman sitting on the bus with all her belongings in plastic bags.

He turns his head to take a drag of his cigar. Silence.

You hold his face, forcing him to look at you as you kiss him. Slow, chaste, no tongue. He feels scrutinized by your touches, and something nervous seats itself deep in his belly.

“How was your day?” You ask, your gaze snapping between his eyes.

Logan closes them. “I’m tired,” He says flatly.

“I know. It’s okay.”

There it is again. Pity.

He scoffs. It’s quiet. Barely there. He didn’t mean to. He watches your face fall the smallest bit. A year ago, he wouldn’t have noticed, and if he would’ve, he would blurt out an apology. Now, he does notice, but he secretly wants to watch it fall even further if it means you’ll realize how much you’ve been hurting him.

You swallow, your thumb rubbing his cheekbone. “I found an American poetry anthology in the basement today. 20th Century. My favorite poem was in it.”

He mumbles, “In a Station of the Metro. T.S. Elliot.” Remembering the poem you told him about months ago sounds too much like sorry. He wishes he’d pretended to forget.

“Ezra Pound,” You correct. Your smile tells him he’s forgiven for an apology he never offered. “If you can recite it I’ll be impressed.”

“I’m not reciting a goddamn poem.” He sounds sarcastic, and it relieves you, but then you kiss him and he’s wound tight again.

You sigh as you pull back. “What’s bothering you, baby?”

“Nothing’s bothering—”

“What’s bothering you?” You interject.

He shakes his head, clenching his jaw. He makes the decision to sacrifice his dignity for the sake of stopping this conversation. You never could resist an orgasm, especially one caused by him. “Enough of that.”

“What?”

But he’s putting out his cigar and lifting you off his lap with a suppressed grunt, then pushing you down on the couch.

“Logan,” You protest.

He continues undoing the drawstring of your pajamas, with a kind of slippery urgency that tells you he's trying to shut you up more than he's trying to satiate his own desire.

You sit up straight, swatting his hand away. “Stop.”

He withdraws immediately, breathing hard through his nose as he looks down at the floor. He was wrong, before, about you not knowing. You definitely know, because you don’t place a loving hand on his thigh and you don’t kiss his shoulder. He’s grateful.

Instead, you observe his profile, then the quiet tremor in his hand. The impossible stillness of the rest of him. He tends to do that when his nerves are on fire. Thinks being a statue is what people who aren’t in chronic pain do.

“Don’t do that,” He mumbles, feeling your eyes on him. “I don’t need you feeling sorry, or whatever—whatever the fuck else goes through your head when you’re around me.”

You say nothing. That’s the most he’s said about his feelings in a while. He knows it, so he forces himself to say nothing, too. It doesn’t last long.

“I’m not dying.” His voice cracks a little at the end and he fights the urge to squeeze his eyes shut.

“I know.” The words come out in a tumble, as if you’re rushing to participate in his lie.

“Then stop looking at me like I’m dying.”

“Okay.” Tears prickle your eyes but you blink them away.

“Okay,” He repeats.

You take a deep breath. “But it’s okay to be cared for, Logan.”

He laughs incredulously, and suddenly his volume is rising and his voice is firm. “Would you just—Would you just quit being my fuckin’ mommy? Would you?”

He only lets your silence marinate for a second before he rushes in to kiss you, ignoring the cramps in his muscles as he tugs your neck forward roughly. You squeak against his mouth, fighting his impossible grip on you, but you give up with a shaky exhale through your nose when your efforts prove useless.

“I can take care of you, too,” He grits out. It would sound sweet if it weren’t for the frustration in his tone. He pushes you onto the couch the same way he did moments before as he opens your legs by your knees and settles between them. He sucks a dark mark onto your neck, his fingers digging bruises in your ribs.

“I know you can,” You reassure him. You can see where this is going. “And I love when you do.” You gasp when he pulls your shirt up over the curve of your breasts.

“No. You don’t.” He pinches one of your nipples and sucks the other into his mouth for a brief second. “It’s okay. I’ll show you so you don’t forget again. You won’t want to get ruined any other way.”

“Logan,” You sigh.

He hums against the soft skin just underneath your breast as his hands ravage your body. He begins to unsheathe the adamantium claws in one of his hands so he can rip your top open. It’s slow and excruciating, so he closes his eyes, but the pain is over too soon and his suspicions are confirmed when he opens his eyes to see them stuck halfway.

You don’t expect him to lean back and individually tug each blade free. There’s blood, and now it’s dripping onto your belly, and he mumbles something that sounds like an apology as he wipes the dots of red away with his thumb.

But the hazel in his eyes is alive again. You hope it’s you that did that. Hope it’s not the pain or the sight of his own blood. You want to ask him, just to make sure. You don’t like hurting, right? You just really like me—

He slices through your shirt, careful not to graze your skin, and you try to ignore the fact that he’s never that cautious with himself, but you can’t.

“Logan, you’re bleeding.” Your voice is unstable.

“It’ll heal,” He says quickly, passively. He wipes his burning palm on his wifebeater.

“But that takes a long time now.”

He meets your eyes, his movements frozen. He’s angry and you’re not stupid. You’re pitying him again. He needs you to stop fucking pitying him. When he speaks, his voice is deep and rough and slow, and you would be scared if he wasn’t your Logan. “Are you done?”

You don’t know what to say, so you just close your eyes and nod. You hear his claws retract faster than when they came out, and almost simultaneously, he’s shoving that same hand under your waistband as two of his calloused fingers push themselves into your cunt.

You arch toward him involuntarily, a ragged moan falling from your lips as he tugs your pajamas off your legs and spits on your pussy to ease the slide of his fingers.

Each groan he pulls from your throat is a step toward dispelling the doubt from your body. Doubt of his capabilities, of his strength, of his devotion to you.

“Beg me to fuck you,” He demands, fingering you roughly.

Your mind is cloudy at this point, from sadness or arousal or both, but you give him what he wants. “Fuck me,” You whisper, your eyelids about to flutter shut as you shed a tear.

But then you catch Logan smiling.

He grabs your jaw with his free hand, and you look at him immediately. “You’re gonna let me use it, right? Get myself off?” You lazily trace his features with your gaze—His nose, his wrinkles, his beard—because you know if it were your fingers instead he’d mistake it for tenderness and get mad again.

You nod, but it’s weak with how hazy everything is.

“Good girl.” 

“Please,” You sigh, “I need you inside of me. I need to—I need it.”

“I know. I know what you’re feeling before you feel it.” He lets the pad of his thumb draw quick circles on your clit. “What? Thought I couldn’t hear you playing with yourself in the shower? If I can hear your heartbeat when I walk through the door, what makes you think I wouldn’t have heard you whining my name?”

“Logan,” You sigh, your hips lifting off the couch, coaxing his fingers deeper for as long as possible before he’s shoving you back down with the heel of his palm.

“I’m gonna play with you now. I’ll fuck you after, don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

“What do you mean, play with me?” You breathe, fighting to keep your eyes open as he finds your g-spot.

He grins dirtily, in a way that makes your head spin and your thighs clench around his hand. You’re barely processing his words as he bends down to mumble in your ear, “Right when you’re about to make a mess on my fingers, I’m gonna stop. Then I’m gonna go down on you. And I’m gonna lick your pretty pussy, maybe even fuck you with my tongue if you’re good. And guess what? Guess what I’m gonna do when you’re this close?”

“You’re gonna stop,” You whine.

“I’m gonna stop,” He nods, and it’s mocking, but it’s gentle, and he’s fucking killing you with the way he’s talking right now. “But I’m not mean. I’ll give you a break. You can calm down when my dick is in your mouth, okay?”

“Okay,” You breathe, your hips unabashedly grinding on his fingers. But you want to reassure him he is mean, and you especially want to tell him how much you love it. “Logan, I’m gonna—”

He withdraws his fingers from you so fast it almost burns. You clench around nothing, your lower half spasming as your orgasm barely approaches before falling away again. Only a hint of pleasure is able to make it through the cracks, and you cling onto it, hoping if you focus hard enough, the wave will come back. It doesn’t. You should regret warning Logan that you were about to finish, but all you feel is comfort now that he’s finally proud of you again.

Another tear streams down the side of your face, landing in your hair. Logan’s watching you as he pets your thigh, his lips parted when he leans down over you. He kisses your wet cheek softly, his beard rough on your skin. It’s unlike him to offer you affection this gracefully during sex. It’s always shaky limbs and suppressed groans and dirty kisses. Both of you know it. 

He moves down your body, until his face is hovering over your cunt. He doesn’t have his reading glasses on, so he has to pull his head back and squint as he spreads your folds with his thumbs, studying what you look like. He licks a stripe over you. A second, longer one, before he zeroes in on your clit. You can do nothing except lay there and take it as your hips twitch from overstimulation under his firm hands.

“Oh my god,” You whisper, your fingers twisting in his hair. “F-Fuck.”

He moans at that, pressed right up against you, the sound deep and delicious and vibrating. “Feel good?” He asks teasingly with a nip to your inner thigh.

“What do—What the fuck do you think?”

He breathes a laugh. It’s short and airy, not frustrated like before, and a warmth ignites itself in the back of your mind. It’s overpowering even the feeling of his mouth licking and sucking your most sensitive area; It’s the relief that he’s still hiding the Logan you fell in love with somewhere in there.

You wind your fingers in his hair and scratch his scalp. You try to do it lovingly, although it comes across as sexual and Logan’s breath hitches in pleasure against your pussy instead. So as you suppress a gasp from the pure skill of his tongue, you show your affection differently—you hold the wounded hand he has resting face-up beside your hip. The cuts embedded there are easy to avoid as your thumb rubs the lines of his palm, because even though you can’t see his hand, the puffiness surrounding each slash on his skin are your cues.

He doesn’t move his hand away, but his tongue falters for a fraction of a second before slowing down.

The kind of love you’re pressing into Logan’s skin with each gentle stroke is unrecognizable to him. It’s not the pitiful love he’s so used to. He thinks it might be the opposite. Admiration. Reverence.

“I’m so empty,” You whisper, bringing your hands to grope Logan’s biceps. They’re sweaty and hard and flexing under your touch, and you wonder if he would let you ride them one day.

When your climax starts to creep up on you, it’s thanks to the image of Logan forcing you to lick your arousal clean off his bicep. Indulgently swirling your tongue along his pronounced veins, savoring the taste of his sweat mixed with yourself. He’d probably say somthing like, fuckin’ filthy. Getting yourself off on my arm. Who does that? Are you that obsessed with me?

Logan feels you squeezing his tongue, harder than all the other times before, so he withdraws at the last moment, ruining your orgasm once again.

 You convulse silently, your breath coming out stuttered with your twitching jaw. As if he can read your mind, he unbuckles his belt and removes his pants and boxers. But he doesn’t strip himself of his wifebeater, stained with blood.

It’s the hottest thing in the world.

You blink, and suddenly Logan is hovering above you with his cock over your face. He rubs his leaking tip on your cheeks first, then your lips, and when you open your mouth to take him, he moves his cock away and nudges your jaw shut with his free hand, shaking his head.

“Not yet.”

A whine lodges itself in your throat as Logan spreads his pre-come over the plush of your lips. It escapes only when he lets go of his cock in favor of massaging his wetness across your lips and on your tongue with his thumb. His hard cock is bobbing above you, almost tantalizingly, the occasional drip of arousal landing itself somewhere near your eyes, then your hair, then your mouth, and you watch Logan’s brow furrow as you try to lick whatever you can.

His resolve snaps. A calloused hand squeezes at your cheeks until your jaw falls open. His cock is in your mouth before you can process it, thick and heavy and wet. So. Incredibly. Wet. You start to wonder how it’s even possible that he’s this hard at his age, but you know he wouldn’t want you to be wondering that, so you happily push the thought away.

You suck your cheeks in, swirling your tongue around his tip as you bob your head to meet the subtle, almost imperceivable thrust of his hips. You’re taking it well, you know you are. So you keep taking it, until Logan can no longer successfully suppress his moans and his hips are jerking out of rhythm.

He moves back until his cock slips out of your mouth. “I don’t wanna come like this. Wanna fuck you.”

“Yeah, yes. Fuck me. Please.”

He stands up and turns you on your front, your knees pressing into the soft couch cushions with your ass in the air.

“Logan,” You plead as you feel his tip pressing at your entrance.

“I’ve got you,” He says quietly, pushing in until half of his cock is comfortably squeezed by your cunt. Both your breathing is loud and labored, and there’s a specific kind of intimacy in knowing you’re both feeling this identical need. Overwhelming and hot and unquenchable by anything other than each other.

His first thrust is shallow, but it ruins you all the same. With how thick he is, it should feel like an intrusion, and it does. But all you can think about is how perfectly he fits inside of you, filling you extraordinarily with only a few inches.

“Fuck,” Logan breathes. “Look at that.” He traces around your entrance with his thumb. “Stretching so wide to take me.”

You moan, pressing your cheek against the sofa as you rock with his thrusts. He still hasn’t pressed all the way in yet, and you’re growing impatient. “Come on,” You urge, pushing yourself back to force more of his cock into you.

You expect him to chastise you for being so greedy, but he listens to you instead with a slow, full thrust. His tip nudges your cervix with how deep he is, and a ragged moan escapes you. “Yes,” You whine, “Oh god, yes.”

Logan’s breaths are coming out heavy through his nose, quick and occasionally intertwined with a grunt. His thrusts are getting quicker, and it’s starting to burn, but you welcome every sensation he has to offer you. He pulls out, spits on his cock, then shoves himself back inside, and this time you’re both unabashedly moaning the minute you’re joined again. 

His fingers dig in the plush of your ass as he observes himself disappearing into you. It hurts, but you love it. He knows you do, so he spanks you quickly before gripping you and rutting against you again.

“I love when you fuck me,” You whisper, feeling ashamed as soon as the confession leave you. “When you properly fuck me.”

He slows for a moment so he can watch his cock glisten with how wet you are. “I know.” He picks back up his punishing pace.

Your eyes begin to water, from pain or pleasure, you can’t tell. “I love you.”

“I know,” He repeats, this time breathier. His hips stutter. You can tell he’s close.

“I want it on my face,” You tell him quickly, his impending orgasm giving you no time to worry about being too forward.

He pulls out again, letting you turn onto your back as he shifts up your body. He jerks himself furiously, but you swat his hand away and take it upon yourself to stroke him.

“Come for me,” You tell him honestly, softly. His eyes squeeze shut and his lips part around a trembling exhale.

He groans as his release coats your face in long stripes. Some of it even lands in your hair, but you don’t care. Your own fingers work your clit as you stick your tongue out and taste him. Logan bends down to kiss you, chest heaving and hands shaky, and you rub yourself faster as you swap his release between the two of you with a hum. He pulls back to let you swallow, then he kisses your cheeks with his rough beard, uncaring about the mess on your face.

You don’t know you’re coming until it’s over and you’re breathless, and it’s almost excruciating with how much he’s ruined you, but you’re so exhausted you can’t find it in yourself to dwell on it a second longer.

You wrap your arms around his neck and tug him down for another kiss because you can hardly remember the one he just gave you.

“I’m sorry I had been treating you all wrong,” You say carefully.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” His voice is rough.

You nod, your lips brushing his as you smooth sweaty strands of hair away from his forehead. These touches are hard for him. Any variation of your chaste affection is a reminder that he’s not really Logan anymore.

But the shame in it is gone. Replaced by the reassurance that he can still surround you with safety and firm hands and blatant desire;

And for a moment, he’s his old self again.

A/N: it's been so long since i've written anything, but logan has been consuming my brain for weeks so i had to get this out. i hope it's true to his character. <3 also, my asks are open, so feel free to request anything you want to read about.