#and there are for sure some really good ones but NOT ENOUGH.

[moon-my-beloved]

neighbors (tf141 x fem! reader)

part II: company

tw: a bit of obsession and touches from the boys but nothing sexual!! possessiveness. mentions of reader fitting ‘snug’ in a dress but nothing too specific. that’s it. - xoxo

the ride back home was quiet.

silence stretching over the small murmurs of the radio warning people of temperatures dropping along with the sound of the engine running as you drove, grocery bags shoved into the back of the seat.

it really wasn’t until you made it home that you had snapped out of your momentarily dream-like state that you realized what you have done.

you still couldn’t believe it. why couldn’t you just have come up with something, anything to avoid making a fool of yourself with how bad you’re with people.

“oh god,” you groan to yourself. pressing your forehead against the steering wheel with embarrassment taking over your senses. why of all times did you just have to coincidently bump into them?!

you really would’ve preferred it if you had encountered them on a free day and not when you’re trudging around the damn store with your dingy old work clothes. then again, kyle and johnny seemed.. trustworthy at first glance. not to mention how beautiful they were.

they carried an air to them that felt friendly enough but dangerous as well. your brain going blank for a moment when you were surrounded by the two men. an invisible thread luring you into their trap. you don’t know if it was kyles sweet voice or the smell of amber from johnny’s cologne, but they had left you with a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. leaving you in a trance for a split-second before uttering the only syllables you could think of.

blood rushes to your face with shame thinking about them in such ways. how long has it been since you’ve experienced this? clearly long enough from the looks of it. your palms are sweaty, breath a bit short, and your heart is practically beating its way out of your chest like you’re some sort of high school girl being forced to confess to their crush.

you jolt a bit at the sound of a small “buzz” coming from your phone. your eyes almost bulging out of your skull when you unlock your screen— it’s a message from johnny and kyle.

< made a small group chat to make it easier. hope you don’t mind luv.

< we’ll see ye tmrw night, right bonnie?

your fingers hover over the keys, chewing at your bottom lip anxiously as you contemplate how to respond. kyle had mentioned meeting the rest of the team, ignoring how just the thought of talking to them made you want to curl yourself up into a ball until you became invisible. it really wouldn’t hurt to meet them. it will be okay. they were your neighbors for god sake.

taking a deep breath, you typed out what you were going to say.

> sure! sounds good. :)

you barely managed to calm down your nerves before your phone vibrated again.

< atta girl. we’ll see ye at 6.

what did you get yourself into.

you had nearly forgotten how much effort it takes to get ready.

you really weren’t one to wake up early, especially during your off days but today was an exemption. hopping into the shower to shave, exfoliate, moisturize, and pretty much scrub off every crevice from your body as soon as your alarm went off. practically stumbling your way out of the bathroom with how lightheaded you felt by the end of it.

your makeup was next. trying your best to copy a look off of pinterest and almost calling it a day with the many times you had to redo your eyeliner. nevertheless, you had successfully overcome that obstacle. which brings you to your own little dilemma: you had nothing good to wear.

all the clothes varied from old band t-shirts, jeans and sweatpants you wore to laze around. you rarely went out and when you did, it would only be for a short period of time to run some errands or to visit the old bat.

“come on closet, give me something, anything!” cursing to yourself in desperation as you rummaged through the pits of your closet.

after what seemed like forever, your hand grazed against a soft material, pulling it out to reveal a dress. it was no fancy dress but it definitely looked like the better option to wear. it was off-the-shoulder, had long-sleeves, and was long enough to cover your thighs but a bit small around the edges with how snug it felt against your body. it must have been lying around in your closet for who knows how long considering how you have no clue why or when you even bought it.

it felt weird, and new as your ran your hand against the fabric. hesitation soon clouding your mind as you look at yourself in the mirror.

maybe this was a bad idea. you should have said no. you’ll just look weird, now you’re going to make a fool of yours—

—catching glimpse of the time you gasp. shit. no time to mop in your own feelings. quickly and gently pulling the sheer material of your tights over your legs and tying the laces of your boots once you get to the door, doing a quick once-over in front of your mirror before you were out the house. wine in hand as a last minute resort to bring something. a courtesy on your part really.

they were just across from you, why are you so nervous to meet your neighbors? neighbors do this all the time. this is completely normal.

a chill running down your spine with the sudden cold gust of wind brushing over your face even with your coat on. you stood there in front of their door for a bit, subconsciously shifting your weight on each of your legs as you swayed in apprehension.

you can do it. it’s okay, just knock.

taking a deep breath in, you lifted your hand up, planting three solid knocks against the wood of the door and quickly pulling it back once you hear the heavy footsteps of someone coming.

you stiffen once you hear the click of the door opening, your breath catching in your throat as you crane your neck a bit to see the man in front of you.

skull face.

it takes you a moment to recognize who he is now that he’s not wearing a balaclava. instead, he has a black surgical mask adoring his face, just enough to cover most of his features but revealing enough to see the small details. he’s a dirty blonde that’s for sure, making him look less intimidating than when you saw him for the first time. his dark eyes are roaming over your figure, leaving you standing still in fear of some way offending him if you even dared to move just an inch.

he’s wearing a grey long-sleeve shirt, along with a pair of grey joggers. you hope you hadn’t interrupted his sleep with how disheveled his hair looks. he looks comfortable though, questioning your own choice of attire. you might have overdressed.

before you could open your mouth to introduce yourself, a booming voice can be heard from behind the man.

“don’ be scarin’ off our guest, simon!” a toothy grin on his face as he slides next to the taller man. arm wrapping around simon’s waist before letting out a low whistle that makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. “well look at ye. so bonnie, m’ glad ye could make it lass, come in. gaz is just finishing up makin’ us dinner.”

nodding, your eyes flicker back at simon as you extend your hand for him to take. “it’s nice to meet you, simon. I, uh, live across from you guys.”a throaty grunt coming from him as he engulfs your hand in his, firmly shaking your hand in return.

they let you in once introductions are over, johnny’s hand hovering over the sole of your back as he follows you into the living room, telling you to get comfortable.

“don’ ye worry, simon doesn’t bite.” looking over at the man with an expression only him and simon would understand as he grabs the wine from your hands, disappearing into the kitchen.

it was awkward to the say the least. silence stretching over the two of you as simon sits across from you on an arm chair, book in his hands and eyebrows scrunched up in concentration.

it went on like that for about a few minutes before simon’s gravely voice cut through the stillness of the room.

“you like it so far?” he asks. the question catching you off guard before realizing what he means. “oh, yes! everyone’s been so nice and welcoming. especially auntie lottie.” a small smile forming on your lips as you recounter your many little dates together.

simon’s eyes crinkle at that, setting the book down beside him as he crosses his arms over his chest. sleeve rolling up a bit to reveal some ink. “‘s there a particular reason why you moved here?”

alarm bells ring in your mind at that. for someone who’s quiet, he sure likes to ask personal questions. you’re new to the neighborhood though, you could understand if he’s wary of you.

“I had some ‘issues’ with my roommate. now ex-roommate,” you say. a deep hum coming from the man across from you as he tilts his head to the side. “can’t say i don’t know what that feels like. have to deal with these muppets all the time.”

you can’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head in amusement. “for some reason I doubt they’re any worse than the person I lived with.”

“must have been a hell of a roommate then. you’ve peaked my interest sweetheart.” simon’s shoulders relaxing from their tense position once he heard the sweet sound of your laughter.

he had to admit, he was wrong about you. you were not who he envisioned you to be. his own skepticism plaguing his mind when gaz and soap came through the door with news about the new neighbor. johnny gushing about how much of a sweet thing you were and kyle nodding in agreement as he listened. price leaning against the wall as he watched the whole thing with a raised eyebrow.

“we have tae invite her over ghost. you’ll like her, ah promise.”

he was ready to decline the offer. ready to scold johnny for even suggesting inviting a stranger over, especially one he and price hadn’t met before. yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. seeing how johnny eyes practically screamed please and how kyle’s own head leaned against his chest as he stared at him.

“I don’t see a problem with it.” price said, giving simon a small shrug as he sipped on his tea.

jaw clenching, he sighed.

“fine.”

now looking at you, he understands why the boys took interest in you. you were gorgeous. a nervous thing. you reminded him of a scruffy kitten with how skittish and bad you were at holding eye contact. your fingers picking at the fabric of your tights that will surely leave a rip by the of the night. he had a feeling price will love a pretty doll like you.

he knew you lived alone. johnny and kyle had suspected you did and it didn’t take long for him and price to figure out you had no one to come home to with how much of a chatter box auntie lottie could be.

and for some reason the thought of you being alone left him with an annoying itch in his brain. an itch that had his fists curling until his knuckles turned white as he stared at you. who would leave such a sweet thing like you all alone?

“simon?” your voice cuts through his thoughts. eyes flickering towards you as your warm palm lays against his knee. eyes furrowing in confusion as you stare at him with those pretty eyes. “are you okay?”

“‘m fine. don’t worry, luv.” your lips turning into a small smile as you retreat your hand, fighting the urge to grab you and hold you against him forever.

silence falls between you again. your palms sweating a bit as you feel simon’s eyes on you.

your attention is soon ripped away from your hands as you hear the door opening, revealing the older man from a few days ago.

mutton chops.

he looks better up close. beard nicely trimmed and kind eyes as he stares at you. he has his winter clothes on. beanie on top of his head along with a jacket and cargo pants.

placing the grocery bags he was carrying on the counter next to the door as he makes his way next to simon.

“and who might this be?” he asks, staring down at you as you scramble to stand up and walk towards him. stuttering a small introduction as you extend your hand which he takes and brings closer to his face. staring wide-eyed as he presses a small kiss against the skin before he lets you go.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you. the boys have been talking about you.” he says, letting out a gruff chuckle as he takes the beanie off his head.

“i hope good things, sir.” you return with a tight smile. a small snort can be heard next to him as simon tilts his chin down to hide his laughter. mutton chops sending him a hard glare before returning his attention back to you.

“just call me john, darlin’. we are all friends here, right?” you can only nod, muttering a small apology before kyle and johnny come walking back to the living room, announcing that dinner is ready.

kyle brings you into a hug, pressing a small kiss against the side of your face between your jaw and neck that has you sucking in your breath.

“I’m so glad you could make it. I hope you’re hungry, i made a big feast.” his hands lingering a bit before johnny slides next to him, pushing him a bit to the side.

“kyle an’ simon are our little chefs of the house.” sending a teasing look at their direction as simon just rolls his eyes while kyle pulls johnny in for a quick kiss. your face heating up as you’re smushed between their bodies.

“stop hovering’ over the bird and let’s eat. we all are hungry.” price says, gently pulling you close to him as he leads you to the dinner table. the boys following behind them as you hear johnny and kyle wince at simon smacking them on the back of their head.

dinner goes smoothly. the men talking amongst each other where you stay quiet for the most part but are quick to shoot a response when they ask questions.

oblivious to the way their gaze never wavers every time you speak.

your tummy full with all the delicious food kyle made that had you moaning with every bite. kyle biting his lip to hide the small grin forming with how he preened in satisfaction.

with everyone occupied with their food, you took the moment to analyze all of them. there’s definitely a strong relationship between the four men.

price reaching out to squeeze kyle’s hand in appreciation by the end of dinner as the younger man just sends him a fond look.

johnny and simon were practically glued by the hip. soap naturally brushing his hand against simon’s thigh every time he talked or made a horrible dad joke which you couldn’t help but laugh every single time. they all fitted with one another like a puzzle. a small glow coming from them with all the gazes and smiles they shared.

at times you felt like you were an intruder watching from outside the glass, and maybe it was envy you felt. not towards the men but towards the love and devotion they had for one another. they were all beautiful and you were the ugly duckling of the group.

you had gone quiet without you realizing it, price touching your shoulder as you jolted in surprise. turning your head towards him as you’re met with a soft gaze. “we lost you there for a minute, love.”

“i.. I’m sorry. I kinda got lost in thought.” you say, offering a little laugh as you gulp down the last of your wine. god, how much have you drunk to get this emotional over something so meaningless?

if john notices the way your voice wavers or the way you eyes gloss over, he doesn’t comment on it. instead, asking kyle and johnny to take you to the couch to watch a movie as him and simon clean the dishes. ignoring your protests in helping and shutting you up with a stern look.

johnny pinches your cheek as you sulk like a child for not being able to help. “you’re our guest silly. would be rude tae make ye work.” setting you down on the comfy couch, blanket in hand as he sits to your right and kyle to your left. squished between their warm bodies.

“get comfortable, princess.” kyle murmurs beside you, the hairs on your neck standing with how close he is. wondering if they could hear goat fast your heart is beating.

the boys insist in you to pick the movie, settling on watching the “elf” with christmas just around the corner. you try your very best to stay focused on the tv screen, ignoring the way johnny ever so often lightly brushes his fingers against your shoulder with how he rests his arm around the back of the couch. or the way kyle brushes his leg against your thigh, sending you an innocent simple every time you look his way.

at some point in the middle of the movie, your eyes grow heavy. your body fighting the urge to shut down after a long week of work. you soon lose the battle, the mixture of both kyle and johnny’s warmness, their scents, soft touches and way of making you feel relaxed win over your consciousness.

you think you feel a soft blanket drape itself on you along with your shoes being removed. the faintest touch against your cheek before you drift to sleep.

“goodnight mo luaidh.”

a/n: I’m not very proud of this one but i tried my best. 😓 please let me know if there’s anything i should fix/improve on. love ya! <33

[plunderbunny]

Reminds me of the story of Starflight, an old 80s computer game that was a big inspiration for Star Control 2. It's been YEARS since I played the game, so I'm sure I'm remembering a lot of details very inaccurately, but all the same, spoilers for Starflight incoming: A strange rogue planet made of an exotic crystalline material is moving around the galaxy to various inhabited systems, and when it arrives the system's star undergoes a catastrophic flare that wipes the system clean of life. As a captain in the Second Human Space Empire, you're travelling the galaxy trying to find out what this crystal planet is and how to stop it. If I recall correctly, the makeup of the crystal planet is similar to but distinct from the crystalline resource "Endurium", which is the special fuel that makes interstellar travel possible. Over the course of the game, you uncover that the lost Old Human Empire was wiped out by these same flares ages ago, and that human scientists discovered that the Endurium crystals are, in fact, intelligent non-organic lifeforms. Their metabolism, means of communication, thought processes, and lives are so profoundly alien that we simply hadn't realized that they were sentient or even alive before we started using them as fuel, largely due to the fact that their crystalline structure gives them a metabolism that operates in the scale of millennia; they basically live so SLOWLY that we just couldn't have seen any evidence of their life processes. But from their perspective, we move so QUICKLY that we're likewise essentially imperceptible to them. They more or less just see planets becoming "infested" with some sort of infection that rapidly transforms their entire structure and ecosystem, and seems to spread to nearby planets, and what's worse any infected planets become rapidly purged of all Endurium Crystal life through unknown means, the dying and disappearing Endurium creatures only living long enough to blink out with an incredibly brief, anguished psychic scream. Using the Crystal Planet to cause solar flares to wipe out "infected" planets is the only means of protecting themselves they had at their disposal, from a menace that they can't even perceive. It was a good game, I need to play it again, but the impression that I remember from it was that it was very much limited by the available technology at the time of its release, with the tech limiting what kind of gameplay it could have and what story it was possible to tell. It's one that would be really great to see get remade to give it a bit more depth and variety in the gameplay akin to the aforementioned Star Control 2.

Are Humans Self-Aware?

Ants have often tested humans for self awareness. They placed objects in our homes and were shocked we didn't cover them in sand.

"Although humans build interesting nests & show signs of cooperation, can they really have rich inner lives like ants? Unlikely."

They laid pheromone trails & we ignored them.

"Even a newly eclosed callow or a termite could have followed these trails! Human intelligence is perhaps similar to that of a lichen... or perhaps an aphid at best."

[jo-speaks]

rprt au idea: the moment he realized he fell for you was during a ride. where you fell asleep on his shoulder. *kisses forehead*

FINALLY FALLING

✶ right place, right time masterlist ✶

overview: an early morning car ride lets quinn hughes realize exactly what he's feeling.

warnings: none!

wc: 819

note: earlier than i said, but i got too excited!! also, thank you so much for 500 followers! i appreciate every single one of you and im happy you guys enjoy my works :)

It was early, about five in the morning. Quinn had asked you to coffee the night before, wanting to see you before his morning skate. You had obviously agreed, wanting to spend as much time with him knowing he’d be travelling away from Vancouver in the coming weeks.

It had only been two months, but he knew you were unlike any of the other girls he had talked to in the past. He put his car into park, rounding around it to open the door for you as he saw you and Chilli coming down the stairs of your apartment complex. He could see your smile even in the distance, and he felt butterflies in his stomach. His eyes trailed over your body, grinning at your oversized sweatpants and Canucks hoodie he had given you, claiming you’d, “need it when you come to a game.”

It wasn’t long before you and Chilli were in front of him, the golden retriever jumping up lightly, paws on his thighs. “Morning, Q.” 

Quinn smiled, keeping his eyes on you as he met Chilli halfway to pet her, “Good morning. You guys ready for coffee?”

He opened the backseat door, letting Chilli hop in and get settled. You laughed at how quickly she sniffed his seat and laid down, finding a new self-proclaimed home in his car.

You looked at him, “Holy, she really likes you. It takes me ages to get her in the car whenever we go out.”

This got a small laugh out of Quinn, his eyes glancing at the dog, then back at you, “Can you blame her? I’m great.”

“Do cocky and great mean the same thing?” You snorted, nudging his shoulder as he chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully.

Quinn backed up, opening the passenger door for you, “Whatever, get in.”

You patted his arm with a smile, stepping into the vehicle. He walked back to his side, settling into the driver’s seat before taking off. Once out on the road, there was a comfortable silence for a few seconds, both of you enjoying each other’s presence.

You let out a yawn, leaning further back into your seat as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Quinn chuckled, taking a glance at you before focusing on the road ahead of him. “Tired?”

Nodding, you stretched your legs out in front of you, your legs shaking slightly as your muscles relaxed. “M’not normally up this early.”

The sun normally rose at seven, so the Vancouver skies weren’t completely dark, but it was still grey and foggy. It was calm, but the gloominess of it all made the desire to be in bed all the more great.

“You can take a nap if you want,” He said softly, reaching his arm to turn on your seat warmer, “The coffee shop is about twenty more minutes from here. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

You smiled at his tone and volume, the softness of the whole situation causing your face to warm up. “Are you sure? I don’t want to bore you.”

Quinn scoffed, “Bore me by sleeping? Y/N, trust me, just being with you is enough for me. Besides, I’d rather you have energy when we’re actually in there.”

His words had an interesting feeling bubbling in your stomach. Most guys would be trying to talk your ear off in an attempt to keep you up or would’ve called you boring and suggested dropping you back off and trying again some other day. But Quinn… was different. He made sure you were comfortable and reassured you of your decision. Sure, maybe it was the bare minimum. But that didn’t change the fact that you were struggling to fight off a smile when he grabbed his phone and threw on some soft music.

“Thanks, Quinn.” You mumbled. Something about your exhaustion had you forgetting that you two were only friends, the thought not crossing your mind as you sat up a bit, scooting over in your seat and leaning your head on Quinn’s arm. You looped your hand around his arm, getting cozy in the small space.

You were already drifting off into sleep, so you couldn’t see the way his eyes widened and face flushed, muscles tensing before relaxing under the warmth of your hold. He stopped slowly at a red light, making sure the car didn’t jolt back. His eyes trailed down to your sleeping figure, your eyes shut as your soft snores echoed throughout the car. 

He smiled and looked back to check on Chilli, who was splayed across his back seats, her own breaths matching yours. 

Quinn knew exactly what he was feeling now.

Seeing you around his arm and your dog feeling so comfortable with him, in his space, left no question for what that fuzzy feeling that flowed through his body was. It was undeniable.

Quinn Hughes had a crush on you.

[gottencents]

CAUSAL - Yu Jimin

pairing. mean girl!karina x star soccer player!reader

synopsis. at Changryeo University, Yu Jimin or just Karina is the ultimate “mean rich girl” — popular, wealthy, and always seeking ways to stay on top. After setting her sights on Sunghoon, the charming soccer captain, Karina shifts her focus to Y/N, an up-and-coming soccer star with an unexpected breakout season. Unlike the polished Sunghoon, Y/N is more of an outsider who got by on talent but doesn’t fit the typical college elite mold.

Realizing that Y/N is the only one who doesn’t care about the social hierarchy, Karina proposes a deal: they’ll fake date so Karina can boost her popularity, while Y/N gets protection from relentless attention. Reluctantly, Y/N agrees, and the two navigate a world of social manipulation, only to find that their fake relationship might lead to something more real than either expected.

Changryeo University was everything Y/N despised about high school, except on steroids. The social hierarchy was alive and thriving, fueled by wealth, good looks, and the kind of academic and athletic achievements that could only be purchased or inherited. Y/N, on the other hand, had gotten in on her soccer skills alone. And while she was proud of her co-captain status, it came with one massive downside—people were starting to notice her.

One of those people was Karina Yu .

Karina was the embodiment of every “mean rich girl” stereotype that Y/N had tried to avoid. She was the queen of Changryeo’s social pyramid, the head cheerleader, and the reigning queen bee. The worst part? Karina wasn’t just popular. She was strategic. Every move she made was calculated, designed to keep her at the top.

So when Y/N walked into the campus coffee shop one afternoon and saw Karina waiting for her with a smile that could freeze fire, she immediately knew something was up.

“Y/N,” Karina said smoothly, her manicured nails tapping on the table in front of her. “Sit.”

Y/N sighed. “What do you want, Karina? I’m kind of busy.”

Karina tilted her head, giving her an incredulous look. “Busy doing what? Pretending to ignore the fact that you’re the most talked-about soccer player on campus right now?”

Y/N frowned, adjusting the strap of her soccer bag. “I’m just trying to focus on my grades and practice. I don’t really care about all… this.” She gestured vaguely to the bustling café, full of students whispering and staring.

Karina smirked. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. You can’t just ‘not care.’ You’re part of this world now, whether you like it or not.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “And let me guess—you’re here to welcome me to the ‘world’ with some sort of deal?”

Karina’s smile widened. “Exactly. I knew you weren’t as slow as you pretend to be.” She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Here’s the thing, Y/N. I need someone who can keep my social status intact until graduation. Someone who’s popular enough to keep people talking but also low-maintenance enough that I don’t have to babysit them. You, unfortunately, check both boxes.”

Y/N blinked. “Wait… what?”

Karina sighed, as if she were explaining something painfully obvious. “Fake date me. You get everyone off your back—because trust me, no one messes with what I call dibs on—and I get to ride your… what do they call it? Soccer hype?”

Y/N stared at her, trying to process what she was hearing. “You want me to pretend to date you? For popularity?”

Karina rolled her eyes. “Don’t act so surprised. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. You get to focus on your precious soccer and grades, and I stay on top where I belong. Everyone wins.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “Except I don’t care about popularity, Karina. And I’m not sure why you’re even interested in me. I’m not exactly your type.”

Karina’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “That’s exactly why you’re perfect. You don’t care about any of this. You’re not going to embarrass me by trying too hard or starting drama. And honestly? People love an underdog. It’s… charming.”

Y/N scoffed. “Charming? You’ve spent the past two years pretending I don’t exist.”

Karina shrugged. “I didn’t need you then. Now I do.” She leaned back, crossing her legs. “Look, you can say no. But I guarantee the attention you’re getting right now? It’s only going to get worse. And when people start digging into your past or spreading rumors about you…” She trailed off, her expression smug. “Well, let’s just say it’s easier to let me handle it.”

Y/N hesitated. She hated everything about this. But she also hated the constant whispers, the stares, and the endless stream of people trying to insert themselves into her life. As much as she wanted to tell Karina to take her offer and shove it, she couldn’t deny that it would be easier to let the queen of the social ladder scare everyone off.

“Fine,” Y/N said finally. “But I have a few conditions.”

Karina raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh? Do tell.”

“One,” Y/N said, holding up a finger, “this ends the second I don’t need it anymore. Two, you don’t get to micromanage my life outside of this… whatever this is. And three, you don’t get to pull any of your mean girl crap on me. Got it?”

Karina’s smile didn’t waver. “Of course. I’m always nice to my significant others.” She extended a hand. “Deal?”

Y/N stared at her for a moment before reluctantly shaking her hand. “Deal.”

As Y/N walked away, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life. Karina, meanwhile, watched her go with a triumphant gleam in her eyes.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Karina murmured to herself, already planning her next move.

Y/N left the café feeling like she’d just signed a deal with the devil. What had she gotten herself into? Fake dating Karina Yoo? The girl who practically ruled Changryeo University with an iron fist wrapped in designer gloves? It sounded insane.

The next day, Y/N started to see the consequences of her decision almost immediately. She was walking to class when she noticed people whispering and pointing at her. Some of the cheerleaders giggled as she passed, and a group of guys from the basketball team gave her an approving nod.

Y/N sighed, pulling her hoodie up in an attempt to block out the attention. But just as she thought she’d make it to class unnoticed, she heard the sharp click of heels behind her.

“Y/N!” Karina’s voice rang out, cutting through the crowd like a knife.

Y/N froze. Here we go.

Karina strutted toward her like she was walking a runway, her designer bag swinging at her side. She was dressed to perfection, as always, in a tailored outfit that probably cost more than Y/N’s tuition.

Karina stopped right in front of her, giving her a radiant smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You were just going to class without me? What kind of fake girlfriend are you?”

Y/N blinked. “I—what?”

Karina sighed dramatically, looping her arm through Y/N’s before she could protest. “We’re supposed to sell this, remember? People are watching.”

Y/N glanced around and realized Karina was right. Half the students in the courtyard were staring at them, some openly gaping, others whispering behind their hands.

“Fine,” Y/N muttered, awkwardly adjusting to the sudden closeness. “But could you maybe not treat me like a handbag?”

Karina laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’re not a handbag, Y/N. You’re an accessory. There’s a difference.”

Y/N groaned. “This is going to be a long semester.”

Later that day, the two of them walked into the dining hall together, and Y/N instantly regretted agreeing to this arrangement. The room went silent the moment they entered, and all eyes turned to them.

Karina didn’t seem fazed at all. In fact, she seemed to thrive under the attention, walking with her head held high and a confident smile on her face. Y/N, on the other hand, wanted to disappear into the floor.

They made their way to a table where Winter and Ningning were already sitting. Winter raised an eyebrow as they approached, her expression somewhere between confusion and amusement.

“Wow,” Winter said as they sat down. “So it’s true. The queen of Changryeo has a new trophy.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Please don’t start.”

Karina, however, looked completely unbothered. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and smirked at Winter. “Jealous?”

Ningning snickered, nudging Winter. “I think she’s just surprised. Everyone is. Y/N doesn’t exactly scream ‘Karina’s type.’”

“Hey,” Y/N protested. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Winter shrugged. “You’re not… polished. No offense.”

“None taken,” Y/N muttered.

Karina leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs. “Y/N is refreshing. She’s not trying too hard to impress me, unlike certain people.” She gave Winter a pointed look, and Winter rolled her eyes.

“This is going to be fun to watch,” Ningning said, her grin widening. “You two are so different it’s almost funny.”

“Almost?” Karina asked, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“Okay, fine. It’s hilarious,” Ningning admitted.

Y/N groaned again, slumping in her seat. “This was a mistake.”

Karina reached over and patted her hand in an overly dramatic gesture. “Oh, sweetie. It’s not a mistake. It’s an opportunity. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

Winter and Ningning burst into laughter, and Y/N could only sit there, wondering how she was going to survive the rest of the semester with Karina Yoo as her fake girlfriend.

Meanwhile…

Karina was already planning their next big “date.” She knew Y/N wasn’t going to make this easy, but that only made it more interesting. Y/N wasn’t like the others—she didn’t care about status or appearances, which made her unpredictable.

For Karina, it wasn’t just about maintaining her social status anymore. There was something about Y/N’s unwillingness to play by the rules that intrigued her. Maybe this arrangement would end up being more fun than she’d originally thought.

But for Y/N, this was already a nightmare. The attention, the whispers, the constant proximity to Karina—it was overwhelming. All she wanted was to get through college quietly and focus on her future. But now, thanks to Karina’s scheme, she was front and center in the social spotlight.

And whether she liked it or not, there was no turning back now.

Y/N was convinced she was cursed. It was the only explanation for why her life had spiraled into this chaotic mess. Before the fake dating arrangement, she was invisible—just a girl who played soccer and tried to keep her head down. But now, every step she took was met with stares, whispers, and the occasional wide-eyed double-take.

Even her teammates had started treating her differently.

At practice the next day, Y/N barely had time to put her cleats on before her co-captain, Sunghoon, jogged over, smirking.

“Y/N,” he said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “So, you and Karina Yoo, huh?”

Y/N groaned, already dreading the conversation. “Don’t start, Sunghoon.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he teased. “You’re dating the most popular girl on campus. You’re practically royalty now.”

“She’s not really my girlfriend,” Y/N muttered under her breath, lacing up her cleats.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sunghoon said, grinning. “You know she’s sitting in the bleachers right now, right?”

Y/N’s head snapped up. “What?”

He pointed over to the stands, where Karina was lounging in her designer coat, her legs crossed as if she were attending a fashion show instead of a soccer practice. She was scrolling through her phone, completely oblivious to the curious glances from the rest of the team.

Y/N marched over to the bleachers, her heart pounding. “Karina!” she called, trying to keep her voice low enough so the entire team wouldn’t hear. “What are you doing here?”

Karina looked up, smiling innocently. “Watching my girlfriend practice, of course. Isn’t that what supportive partners do?”

Y/N resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. “You didn’t have to come. This is just practice.”

Karina tilted her head, pretending to be hurt. “Are you embarrassed of me?”

“Yes,” Y/N said immediately. “I mean, no! I mean—ugh.” She ran a hand through her hair, already regretting her decision to agree to this arrangement.

“Relax,” Karina said, waving her off. “I’m just here to make sure the other girls on your team don’t get any ideas. Can’t have them thinking you’re single, now can we?”

Y/N groaned. “Karina, no one on this team thinks that—”

“Y/N! Who’s your friend?” one of her teammates called from the field, cutting her off.

Karina turned and waved, flashing a dazzling smile. “Hi! I’m her girlfriend.”

Y/N could feel her teammates’ collective jaws drop.

“Oh my God,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Later that day…

After practice, Y/N trudged into the dining hall, fully prepared to eat her dinner in peace. Unfortunately, peace wasn’t on the menu.

Karina was already sitting at their usual table with Winter and Ningning. She waved Y/N over as soon as she walked in, her smile bright and attention-grabbing.

Y/N reluctantly joined them, sliding into the seat next to Karina. She immediately noticed the looks from other students in the dining hall. Some were staring openly, others whispering behind their hands.

“Everyone’s staring,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

“Of course they are,” Karina said, flipping her hair. “We’re Changryeo’s new power couple.”

“We’re not a couple,” Y/N said quietly, picking at her food.

Ningning leaned forward, grinning. “You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N. Karina is selling this so well it’s practically an Oscar-winning performance.”

Winter snorted. “I’ll give it to her—she’s committed. But Y/N? You look like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

Y/N sighed, slumping in her seat. “That’s because I would be.”

Karina reached over and patted her hand, her touch light but deliberate. “Don’t be so dramatic. You’re doing great. And for the record, you’re lucky to have me as your fake girlfriend. Most people would kill for this opportunity.”

“Most people don’t have to deal with you,” Y/N shot back, unable to stop herself.

Winter and Ningning burst out laughing, and even Karina cracked a smile.

“You’re lucky I find your sass endearing,” Karina said, leaning back in her seat with a smirk.

A few weeks later…

The fake dating arrangement had started to feel like a full-time job. Karina was everywhere—showing up to Y/N’s practices, dragging her to parties, and insisting on coordinating outfits for their “dates.”

But the weirdest part? Y/N was starting to get used to it.

Karina was still Karina—bossy, overconfident, and annoyingly good at getting her way. But every now and then, Y/N caught glimpses of something deeper. Like the way Karina would soften when talking about her younger sister, or how she’d quietly help out a classmate who was struggling without making a big deal about it.

It didn’t make her any less infuriating, but it did make her… interesting.

One night, after yet another party where Karina had spent most of the time pretending to be the perfect girlfriend, Y/N finally spoke up.

“Why are you doing all this?” Y/N asked as they walked back to their dorms.

Karina glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Doing what?”

“This whole fake dating thing,” Y/N said. “You’re already popular. You don’t need me to stay on top.”

Karina was quiet for a moment, which was rare for her. Then she shrugged, her expression unreadable. “Maybe I just like having someone around who doesn’t kiss up to me.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “You… like having me around?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Karina said, smirking. “You’re tolerable. That’s all.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

Karina smiled, and for once, it wasn’t calculated or forced. It was just… genuine.

Over the next month, the lines between their fake relationship and reality began to blur in ways Y/N hadn’t anticipated. Karina was still annoyingly bossy and dramatic, but Y/N couldn’t deny that she was also surprisingly attentive. She remembered little things, like Y/N’s coffee order or how she hated when her cleats weren’t broken in yet.

Y/N, for her part, started to see sides of Karina that no one else seemed to notice. Like how she’d subtly steer conversations away from Winter’s nervous stuttering in class presentations or how she always brought snacks for Ningning, claiming it was “just in case” but always ended up handing them over.

And then there were the moments when Karina’s carefully constructed mask slipped entirely. Like the night of the big soccer game against their school’s rival, where everything changed.

Game Night

The stadium was packed, buzzing with energy as Changryeo prepared to face its fiercest rival. Y/N felt the weight of the crowd’s expectations as she warmed up on the field. Being co-captain was no joke, and all eyes were on her to deliver.

Karina was there, of course, perched in the VIP section with Winter and Ningning. She was decked out in Changryeo colors, her designer coat somehow perfectly matching the school’s logo. She looked like she belonged on a billboard, not in the stands of a college soccer game.

But even from the field, Y/N could feel her presence. Karina’s gaze was sharp, focused entirely on her.

As the game began, Y/N threw herself into it, blocking out everything but the ball, her teammates, and the roaring crowd. By halftime, they were tied 1-1, and the pressure was mounting.

In the locker room, Y/N sat on the bench, trying to catch her breath. Sunghoon clapped her on the back. “You’re doing great out there. Just keep your head in the game.”

“Yeah,” Y/N muttered, wiping sweat from her face.

But her focus was shaken as soon as she stepped back onto the field. The rival team’s captain, a cocky player named Minjae, smirked as he jogged past her.

“Your girlfriend’s got the whole stadium staring,” Minjae said with a sneer. “Must be nice having the queen of Changryeo cheering you on.”

Y/N gritted her teeth. She knew he was trying to get in her head, but it still worked.

By the time the second half ended, the score was still tied, and they were headed into overtime. The tension was palpable.

As Y/N lined up for a crucial penalty kick, she glanced at the stands and locked eyes with Karina. Karina gave her a small nod, her expression serious for once.

“You’ve got this,” Karina mouthed.

Y/N took a deep breath and focused. The world seemed to slow as she approached the ball, her foot connecting perfectly. The stadium erupted as the ball sailed into the net, securing their victory.

Post-Game

After the game, Y/N was mobbed by her teammates and the crowd. She barely had time to breathe before Karina appeared, pushing through the chaos like it was nothing.

“There’s my star player,” Karina said, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

Before Y/N could respond, Karina grabbed her face and kissed her.

The crowd went wild.

Y/N froze, her brain short-circuiting. When Karina finally pulled back, she smirked. “You looked like you needed some motivation out there.”

Y/N blinked, still processing. “Motivation? I just won the game.”

“Exactly,” Karina said, flipping her hair. “You’re welcome.”

Winter and Ningning appeared behind her, both grinning like they were enjoying the show way too much.

“Wow, Karina really went all in,” Winter said.

“I’m living for this drama,” Ningning added.

Y/N groaned. “You guys are the worst.”

Karina, however, looked entirely unbothered. She leaned closer, her voice dropping so only Y/N could hear. “Relax. You’re a hero now. Everyone’s going to be talking about this for weeks.”

Y/N glanced at her, a mix of exasperation and something she couldn’t quite name. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you keep agreeing to my plans,” Karina said, smirking.

As the night went on and the celebrations continued, Y/N found herself smiling despite the chaos. Maybe this whole fake dating thing wasn’t as fake as she’d thought.

Later That Night

Back at their dorms, Y/N sat on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Karina was perched on the armrest, scrolling through her phone.

“You didn’t have to kiss me, you know,” Y/N said suddenly.

Karina glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “It worked, didn’t it? The crowd loved it. You’re basically a legend now.”

Y/N shook her head. “That’s not the point. You keep doing all this stuff like it’s some kind of game.”

Karina’s expression softened, just for a moment. “It’s not a game,” she said quietly.

Y/N turned to look at her, surprised by the shift in her tone. “Then what is it?”

Karina hesitated, her walls cracking just enough for Y/N to see something real beneath them. “It’s… complicated.”

Y/N studied her, realizing for the first time that maybe Karina wasn’t as confident and untouchable as she seemed.

“Complicated, huh?” Y/N said, her voice soft.

Karina gave her a small, almost shy smile. “Don’t overthink it. Just… go with it.”

For once, Y/N decided not to argue.

“Alright,” she said. “But if you pull another stunt like that in public, I’m kicking your ass.”

Karina laughed, and the sound was lighter than Y/N had ever heard. “Deal.”

And for the first time since this whole thing started, Y/N felt like maybe, just maybe, they were onto something real.

The Morning After the Game

Y/N woke up the next morning to chaos. Her phone was blowing up with notifications—texts, Instagram tags, even a few congratulatory emails from professors who were clearly too invested in Changryeo sports. She groaned, rubbing her eyes as she scrolled through the messages.

Her teammates had turned the group chat into a full-on meme fest. Screenshots of Karina’s dramatic kiss at the game were plastered everywhere, complete with captions like “Changryeo’s new power couple” and “Karina really said, ‘My girlfriend won the game.’”

Just as Y/N was about to bury her face back into her pillow, there was a knock at her door.

She opened it to find Karina standing there, holding two cups of coffee and a bag of pastries.

“Good morning, star player,” Karina said with a smirk, pushing her way into the room without waiting for an invitation. She set the coffee and bag on Y/N’s desk before sitting on the edge of her bed like she owned the place.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked, still half-asleep.

“Damage control,” Karina said, scrolling through her phone. “Your PR image is my responsibility now, remember?”

Y/N blinked. “PR image? What are you talking about?”

Karina rolled her eyes, turning her phone to show Y/N the flood of posts on social media. The school’s official athletics account had reposted a photo of their kiss, and the comments were a mix of admiration, jokes, and speculation.

“Karina Yoo kissing Y/N on the field after the game? Iconic.”

“Never thought I’d see the day Y/N gets swept up by Changryeo’s queen bee.”

“Plot twist: Karina’s actually soft for her.”

“I thought Karina only cared about status. Maybe this is real???”

Y/N groaned, sinking onto her bed. “This is a nightmare.”

“It’s a dream,” Karina corrected, sipping her coffee. “The PR is gold. You’re officially untouchable now.”

“I didn’t ask to be untouchable,” Y/N said, rubbing her temples.

Karina tilted her head, her expression softening slightly. “You didn’t have to ask. That’s what I’m here for.”

Y/N looked at her, trying to figure out if Karina was joking. But her tone was serious, and for once, there wasn’t a trace of her usual sarcasm.

“Thanks��� I guess,” Y/N said awkwardly.

“Don’t mention it,” Karina said, waving her off. Then, as if remembering something, she added, “Oh, and don’t forget—we’re going to that party tonight.”

“What party?”

Karina raised an eyebrow. “The victory party, obviously. The soccer team’s throwing it, and as your girlfriend, I have to be there.”

Y/N sighed. “Do I have a choice in this?”

“No,” Karina said with a smug smile. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t embarrass yourself.”

“Gee, thanks,” Y/N muttered.

The Party

That night, the victory party was in full swing by the time Y/N and Karina arrived. The team had rented out one of the biggest event spaces on campus, and the room was packed with students. Music blasted from the speakers, and the energy was electric.

As soon as they walked in, all eyes turned to them. Y/N felt her shoulders tense under the weight of the stares, but Karina didn’t seem fazed at all. She grabbed Y/N’s hand, lacing their fingers together as she led her through the crowd.

“You’re doing great,” Karina whispered, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but didn’t pull away.

They joined Sunghoon and the rest of the soccer team near the bar, where Winter and Ningning were already waiting with drinks in hand.

“Well, well,” Winter said, raising her glass. “If it isn’t the couple of the century.”

Ningning grinned, nudging Y/N. “You look so uncomfortable. It’s adorable.”

“Glad you’re enjoying this,” Y/N muttered.

Karina, however, was in her element. She charmed the team effortlessly, laughing at their jokes and pretending to be genuinely interested in their stories. Y/N couldn’t tell if it was an act or if Karina was just naturally good at winning people over.

At one point, Sunghoon leaned over to Y/N, his voice low. “She’s really something, huh?”

Y/N glanced at Karina, who was animatedly telling a story to the rest of the group. She was gesturing wildly, her face lit up in a way that made it hard to look away.

“Yeah,” Y/N said softly. “She really is.”

Later That Night

As the party wound down, Karina and Y/N found themselves sitting on the steps outside the event space. The cool night air was a welcome relief after the chaos inside.

Karina leaned back on her hands, gazing up at the stars. “You survived your first official event as my girlfriend. How do you feel?”

“Exhausted,” Y/N said honestly.

Karina laughed, her voice soft and melodic. “You’ll get used to it.”

Y/N studied her for a moment, the glow of the streetlights casting shadows across her face. “Do you ever get tired of it?”

“Of what?”

“Being… you,” Y/N said. “Always in the spotlight, always being perfect for everyone.”

Karina was quiet for a moment, her confident facade slipping just enough for Y/N to see the vulnerability underneath.

“Sometimes,” Karina admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s the only thing I know how to do.”

Y/N frowned. “You don’t have to be perfect all the time, you know. You’re allowed to just… be yourself.”

Karina turned to look at her, her expression unreadable. “And what if I don’t know who that is?”

Y/N hesitated, then reached over and took her hand. “Then maybe it’s time you figured it out.”

Karina stared at her, and for once, she didn’t have a clever comeback.

The silence between them was heavy but not uncomfortable, and for the first time, Y/N felt like she was finally seeing the real Karina—the one who hid behind all the glitz and glamour.

Life didn’t slow down after the victory party. If anything, it picked up speed. The school was abuzz with gossip about Y/N and Karina’s “relationship.” Everywhere Y/N went, people whispered or stared. Some congratulated her on her game-winning goal, but most wanted to talk about Karina.

“So, is it real?”

“How did you even bag Karina ?”

“Are you two, like, for real-for real?”

Y/N tried to dodge the questions, but Karina seemed to thrive on the attention. She’d casually wrap an arm around Y/N’s shoulder in the cafeteria or bring her a coffee in the middle of class, always with a knowing smirk. It was like a game to her—a game Y/N wasn’t entirely sure she was winning.

By the end of the week, Y/N was exhausted. She trudged into her dorm room after soccer practice, still sweaty and aching, only to find Karina lounging on her bed like she owned the place.

“Do you not have your own dorm?” Y/N asked, dropping her bag onto the floor.

Karina looked up from her phone. “Mine’s boring. Yours has personality. And snacks.”

Y/N sighed, pulling off her cleats. “What do you want, Karina?”

Karina sat up, crossing her legs. “We need to strategize. There’s a gala next weekend, and we have to make an appearance.”

“A gala?” Y/N repeated, groaning. “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Karina said, standing up and walking over to her. “You’re my girlfriend, remember? People will expect us to be there together. Plus, it’ll be fun.”

“Your definition of fun is very different from mine,” Y/N muttered.

Karina tilted her head, a sly smile on her lips. “You’ll survive. And who knows? You might even enjoy it.”

The Night of the Gala

The Changryeo University gala was nothing like the sweaty chaos of the victory party. It was a high-class affair, with students and faculty dressed to the nines in designer suits and gowns. The event hall was decorated with glittering chandeliers and pristine white tablecloths, and a string quartet played softly in the background.

Y/N felt completely out of place. She adjusted the cuffs of her borrowed suit, glancing nervously at the crowd.

Karina appeared beside her, radiant in a sleek, black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. She looked every bit the queen bee, her confidence practically oozing from every pore.

“You clean up well,” she said, eyeing Y/N with an approving nod.

“You mean I don’t look like a sweaty soccer player for once?” Y/N asked, tugging at her tie.

Karina smirked. “Exactly.”

She grabbed Y/N’s arm and led her into the crowd, greeting people with effortless charm. Y/N tried to keep up, but it felt like Karina was operating on a completely different level.

At one point, they were cornered by a group of Karina’s friends, who bombarded Y/N with questions.

“So, how did you two meet?” one of them asked, batting her eyelashes.

Y/N froze, her mind going blank. She hadn’t prepared for this.

“Y/N heroically saved me from a terrible date,” Karina said smoothly, looping her arm through Y/N’s. “It was love at first sight.”

The group burst into laughter, and Y/N shot Karina a look. She just winked at her, clearly enjoying herself.

Later That Night

After hours of mingling, Y/N finally managed to escape to the balcony. She leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath of the cool night air.

A moment later, Karina joined her, holding two glasses of champagne.

“You’re not hiding, are you?” she asked, handing Y/N a glass.

“Maybe,” Y/N admitted, taking a sip. “This whole thing is… overwhelming.”

Karina leaned against the railing beside her, her expression unusually soft. “You’re doing fine.”

Y/N glanced at her. “Why do you even care about all this? The parties, the popularity, the drama. What’s the point?”

Karina was quiet for a moment, staring out at the city lights. “Because it’s easier to play the game than to let people see the real you,” she said finally.

Y/N frowned. “And what’s the real you like?”

Karina turned to her, a small, almost shy smile on her lips. “I guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but didn’t look away. For a moment, it felt like the world had gone quiet, leaving just the two of them standing there under the stars.

“You’re… complicated,” Y/N said eventually, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

Karina laughed, the sound light and genuine. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

As the night went on, Y/N realized that maybe, just maybe, being stuck in Karina’s world wasn’t as bad as she thought.

[bytemee]

toxic till the end — yu jimin.

synopsis. karina is the kind of girl everyone knows—confident, popular, and always the best-dressed. when you get paired with her for a school project, you're shocked, but things only get worse when she starts showing her toxic side.

pairing. toxic & rich!meangirl!jimin x loser(?)! skater!reader

warnings. toxic relationship (manipulation, physical violence, aggressive language, jealousy) sexual content, and let me know if there’s more. time skips/rushed so i didn’t turn this into a full fic

words. 5.8k

authors note. i’m always making reader a loser because im projecting sorry. this is also HEAVILY based on the music video

you know karina. everyone does. she's the kind of girl who owns every room she walks into. her flawless skin, the designer clothes, and the air of absolute certainty that follows her everywhere—she's untouchable. it doesn't matter whether it's school, the mall, or some exclusive party in the city. karina is always the best-dressed, the most confident, the one everyone wants to be around. she has everything—the best grades, the richest friends, and a mansion that could probably fit your entire apartment.

but you've never been part of her world. not by a long shot.

so when the teacher announces the project pairings, you half-expect to be stuck with someone you barely know. but the name you hear makes your stomach twist for a second—karina. you blink and glance around the room, but sure enough, she's looking at her phone like it's the only thing that matters. her eyes don't even leave the screen as the teacher explains the assignment, and when she does glance up, it's just long enough to give a faint nod.

yunjin, your best friend, glances at you with a sympathetic look, but all you can do is shrug in response.

the first time you try talking to her about the project, she's half-listening. you're sitting at the library table, and karina's doodling on the edge of her notebook, looking at her phone again. you make a suggestion about the research, but she just shrugs.

"sure, whatever. i'm good with whatever you want to do." she mutters, glancing back down at her phone. you bite your lip, trying to think of another way to get her attention. you push a little harder, trying to make this work, "you sure? it's a group project, we both have to decide."

karina just gives you that look—one that says, i don't care what you say, because the outcome is the same.

you pause, trying to gauge her reaction, but karina's already back to scrolling through her feed, the sound of her phone clicking lightly in the background. you're not sure if you should push any further. it's clear she's not invested in this—in you—and that stings more than you want to admit.

"okay, then..." you say, forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "we'll just go with whatever you think is best."

karina doesn't even look up when she replies. "yeah, exactly."

the rain catches you off guard the next day. you didn't bring an umbrella, and now you're standing near the campus entrance, your skateboard tucked under your arm, waiting for the rain to let up. you're not in a rush to get home—mostly because you know it'll be a long, dull evening. your roommates will probably be out partying or something. and without yunjin, you feel like the odd one out.

so you stand there, letting the rain soak through your jacket as you watch everyone else scramble for shelter.

then, out of nowhere, you hear the hum of an engine. karina's sleek car pulls up, its tinted windows glinting in the rain. for a moment, you think she's going to ignore you, like she does every other time. but instead, she rolls down the window, her face leaning out slightly.

"get in," karina commands, her voice cool and smooth, like she doesn't really care one way or another.

you blink, a little thrown off by the offer. "what?"

it takes you a moment to process her words, and she looks a little impatient when she repeats herself. "get in the car. it's raining."

"um, thanks. but i'm fine, really," you stammer, trying to smile and hoping she doesn't notice the nervousness in your voice.

but karina just raises an eyebrow, like you've said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

"don't be stupid," she says, a little too loudly, her tone a little too harsh. you glance down, and your cheeks burn in embarrassment. karina doesn't strike you as the type to offer rides to just anyone. but then again, you're not anyone, are you? you're her partner for the project. you're technically part of her world for the moment, no matter how temporary that might be.

with a reluctant sigh, you climb into the car. the door shuts with a soft thud, and you find yourself in the passenger seat, a little too close to her than you expected.

the inside of her car smells faintly of vanilla. she's wearing a floral perfume that reminds you of the spring, the kind of scent that leaves you a little breathless, a little giddy, and a little too happy.

she's not even looking at you, and that's probably a good thing.

you clear your throat, trying to ignore the heat in your face.

"uh...where are we going?" you ask, not sure if you should say something else. the air feels awkward between you two, still heavy from the silence of your earlier encounters.

karina glances at you for a moment before turning back to the road, her eyes fixed on the street ahead. "to my place. we still need to finish the project, right?"

karina's house is nothing short of a mansion. it stands in the middle of a large estate, with a pristine garden and a driveway that looks longer than your entire block. you can't help but feel small as you step out of the car, your skateboard tucked under your arm like a prop rather than something you actually use.

"you can leave your skateboard in the garage," karina says as she leads you into her house. "we'll be in my office."

the room is much like the rest of her house—everything pristine, clean, and far more impressive than anything you've ever had. she's already seated at a desk, pulling up the files for your project, while you stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of where to sit.

"you're... sure this is fine?" you ask, glancing at the luxurious surroundings. "i don't want to get in the way."

karina barely looks up from her computer. "you're not in the way," she says dismissively, clicking through some documents. "just sit down."

you do as she says, taking a seat next to her. as she leans forward, you catch a glimpse of her profile, the line of her neck and jaw, the way her lips curve into a frown when she's deep in thought. she's beautiful, you realize. she's more than beautiful. she's almost...

...perfect.

"you're staring," karina says, looking up at you, her dark eyes fixed on yours. you feel a flicker of panic, not sure what to say. "i...sorry," you stammer, not sure why the word comes out like that. you didn't mean to stare. but karina doesn't look bothered, her face expressionless.

the project progresses in silence for a while. karina occasionally makes a comment or offers a suggestion, but it's clear she's not too invested. you do most of the work, but there's a strange satisfaction in seeing her just there, even if she's not really participating. it's enough to be with her, you think. to spend a few hours in her company, even if she's not paying attention.

by the time the sun begins to set, you're both sprawled out on the floor with the project almost done, the laptop and a few papers strewn around you. you didn't expect to get this much done, and you didn't expect karina to actually stay with you the entire time, even if she was working on her own stuff.

but it's karina who breaks the silence, "do you want to take a break?"

you blink, a little surprised. you've been so focused on the project that you hadn't even thought about taking a break. but now that karina's mentioned it, you realize how much your shoulders ache and how stiff your back is from sitting on the floor for hours.

"uh, sure," you say, trying to sound casual. you sit up, stretching your arms above your head, wincing a little as your muscles protest.

suddenly, you're outside laughing as you both run around karina's expansive yard. you don't even know what it was that started the game of running around her massive yard, laughing as you dodged between trees and jumped over flower beds. the estate was almost overwhelming, the grass so perfectly green and the gardens so lush and well-maintained, but somehow, it was comforting, too.

you're not sure how long you play for, but it feels like a lifetime. karina is faster than you, and her legs carry her across the yard effortlessly. she's light on her feet, almost catlike in the way she moves, and the sunlight catches her dark hair and turns it golden.

when you finally stop, both of you panting and laughing, she sits on the edge of a large ornamental fountain, and you follow, dropping down next to her. it's quiet for a moment—only the sound of your laughter dying down and the trickle of the fountain.

karina looks at you, her eyes meeting yours. there's something about the way she's looking at you, something that makes your heart race and your stomach do flip-flops.

"you're pretty when you smile," she says.

then, in a blink, before you can react, she shoves you into the fountain. cold water splashes up in all directions, drenching you from head to toe. you let out an indignant gasp, but it quickly dissolves into uncontrollable laughter as you sputter, trying to catch your breath between fits of giggles.

"oops," karina says, looking far too pleased with herself, her hand covering her mouth. "my bad."

you wipe water from your eyes, trying to make it look like you're annoyed, but your smile betrays you. "yeah, sure. 'oops.'"

karina bursts into more laughter, the sound high and sweet. it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard, and for a moment, you forget that you're soaked. you forget about the project and the fact that you'll have to go home later. all you can focus on is the way karina's blonde hair falls over her shoulders, and the way her smile reaches her eyes, making them shine like stars.

you can't help but stare, transfixed.

she's perfect, you think. perfect and untouchable.

karina stands up, "come on, before you freeze to death." she holds out her hand. you hesitate for a moment, but eventually, your fingers close around hers, and you pull yourself up. she doesn't let go. not even when the two of you are standing side by side, her hand still in yours.

you're not really sure what room you're in now, only that it's not the office anymore. you don't care enough to figure it out, either. the lights are dim, the fireplace crackles softly in the corner, and karina is sitting in your lap. she's holding a towel, gently brushing it over your damp hair to help dry it. her hands move slowly, the motion almost hypnotic. you don't even bother resisting the urge to lean into her touch, her body pressed against yours.

"you should come here more often," she says, her voice low. "it's fun."

she's so close, you can smell her vanilla perfume again. it's intoxicating.

"it is," you murmur, and her eyes flicker up to yours, a smirk on her face.

"i'm glad you agree."

"we should probably finish the project," you say, though it sounds half-hearted even to you.

"maybe later," she says softly, leaning closer. her face is so close to yours now that you can feel the warmth of her breath. she hesitates for just a moment before her lips brush lightly against yours.

your breath catches, and for a second, you're frozen.

you weren't sure what to expect, but the simple touch of her lips leaves you wanting more. her eyes flicker up to yours briefly, searching your face, almost like she's asking if it's okay to keep going. without thinking, you lean forward just enough to close the gap again.

she sighs into your mouth, her hands coming up to cup your face, her fingertips brushing along your jaw. the towel falls away, forgotten, and her arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer. your hands find her waist, tracing up the curve of her spine and the back of her neck.

you're not sure how long the kiss lasts, only that by the time you pull away, your lungs are burning and your head is spinning.

she's smiling, a real smile this time, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed.

"you're blushing," she whispers, tracing her thumb along the line of your jaw.

"i am not," you protest weakly.

"mhm." karina leans in again, her nose brushing against yours.

"are you going to eat that?"

yunjin's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. you blink and realize you're sitting at the table now, a cookie sitting on the plate in front of you.

"hm?"

she points at the cookie. "that. are you gonna eat it?"

"oh," you mutter, realizing you must've been staring at it while lost in thought. "oh, no you can have it jen."

she grabs it, takes a bite, and gives you a weird look. "hey, are you okay? you're kinda spacing out."

"i'm fine, really," you say, taking a sip of tea, though your thoughts are miles away. karina lingers in your mind, no matter how hard you try to shake her. it's been days since your first kiss—though there have been others since. it felt like you were finally starting to get somewhere with karina. and maybe, just maybe, you were actually a little important to her, too.

yunjin eyes you suspiciously, clearly unconvinced, but she lets it slide. she takes another bite of the cookie and changes the subject, just as chaewon slides into the seat next to you.

"ugh, what are you doing with these?" chaewon huffs, leaning in and inspecting your eyebrows like she's some kind of aesthetician. she licks her finger then starts brushing them with her thumb.

"chaewon," you groan, swatting her away. "stop. you're embarrassing me."

"embarrassing you?" she scoffs, rubbing at some invisible flaw on your face. "i'm fixing you, trust me. if anyone's embarrassing you, it's yourself."

yunjin snickers as chaewon wipes a crumb off the corner of your mouth, ignoring your exaggerated protests. "see? better already," chaewon says, looking pleased with herself.

you roll your eyes dramatically but can't help the tiny grin tugging at your lips. she's annoying, sure, but she's like the older sister you never had. it's hard to stay mad when she means well.

before you can shoot back a sarcastic comment, movement across the room catches your eye. karina walks by with her group of friends, laughing about something you can't hear. you straighten in your seat, your heart racing without permission.

"karina!" you call out, raising a hand to get her attention. "hey! come meet my friends!"

your voice echoes just enough to make a few people glance your way, but karina doesn't even spare you a look. she keeps walking, her laughter ringing out as if she didn't hear you—or worse, as if she didn't care.

the table goes quiet. you can feel yunjin and chaewon watching you, but you refuse to meet their eyes, staring instead at the empty space where karina just was. you feel your face heat up, and suddenly, you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

"ouch," yunjin mutters under her breath, giving a low whistle. "harsh."

you swallow thickly, the sinking feeling in your stomach growing stronger by the second.

"it's fine," you say, forcing a smile.

"uh, i still wanted to show you that trick i was talking about earlier." you try to shift the focus away from the embarrassment still burning in your chest, but your voice wavers slightly. yunjin and chaewon exchange a quick glance, their concern evident despite their best attempts to hide it.

"trick?" chaewon perks up, "what trick?"

you hesitate, glancing at her and then down at your lap. "just something i've been practicing on my board."

"why didn't you mention this sooner?" chaewon leans forward, resting her elbows on the table, "c'mon, show us! i've been dying to see you pull off something cool."

"but uh, yeah, about that..." you scratch the back of your neck. "i don't have my board with me. so, i can't."

yunjin, who had been quietly finishing her cookie, perks up. "you can use mine!" she says brightly, already digging into her bag. "i brought it with me."

"are you sure?" you ask, a little surprised by the offer. you know she doesn't like anyone touching her skateboard. "i don't want to—"

"it's fine," she assures, waving a hand dismissively. "just show us."

the three of you head outside, and yunjin pulls out her skateboard, handing it to you. it's a little smaller than yours, but it feels sturdy enough. after testing the balance and grip, you roll it forward, nodding with approval. a few minutes later, you nail the trick with ease, a grin spreading across your face as you hold out the board.

"that was awesome!" chaewon squeals, practically bouncing with excitement.

"told you it was cool," yunjin says with a satisfied grin.

"yeah, it was," you reply, grinning wider. "thanks, guys."

you spend the next hour hanging out with them, laughing and joking about nothing in particular. by the time the bell rings, you feel lighter, ready to head home and unwind for the day. as you're saying your goodbyes, a familiar luxury car pulls into the schools parking lot.

the window rolls down, and karina peers out, her gaze locking onto you. "get in," she calls, and it doesn't sound like a question.

"i'm good," you say, shifting your bag onto your shoulder. "i'll walk."

"get in the fucking car," she repeats, louder this time, and there's something in her tone that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. she glances at your friends before turning back to you, her eyes dark and intense. "or are you too cool to hang out with me now?"

you freeze. yunjin and chaewon exchange a quick look, and suddenly, you're painfully aware that they're witnessing this. karina's gaze never wavers, her lips pressed into a thin line and her brow furrowed. for a moment, you think she might just drive off and leave you standing there.

"okay, fine," you relent, opening the door and climbing into the car. as soon as you're inside, karina speeds off, the tires screeching slightly as she takes a sharp turn. the ride is silent. neither of you speaks. then you notice the car heading in the opposite direction of your house.

"where are we going?" you ask, breaking the silence.

karina doesn't answer, her knuckles white as she grips the steering wheel. her jaw is set, and you can feel the tension radiating from her. you try again, "seriously, where are we—"

"just shut up," she snaps, "please."

"karina—"

"god," she mutters, running a hand through her hair. "you're so annoying."

the words hit you harder than expected, and you flinch, your eyes widening. she's never spoken to you like this before. not ever. "i'm annoying?"

she glances over at you briefly, her eyes narrowed. "yes. you are."

"why?" you ask, genuinely confused. "because i didn't get in your car right away?"

"yes!" karina exclaims, her voice rising in frustration. "exactly!"

you stare at her, taken aback by her reaction along with her response. a million questions race through your head, and you're not sure which one to ask first. karina turns back to the road, and you can tell she's holding back, biting her lip to stop herself from saying something she might regret.

"why do you even care? i was having fun with my friends. why can't you just leave me alone?"

"i don't care," karina spits out, her words sharp and venomous.

"bullshit," you scoff.

"oh, really?" karina raises an eyebrow. the car suddenly stopping in the middle of the road. "fine, then. go be with your friends. see if i care."

your body jerks at the sudden stop, and you grip the seatbelt tightly, your heart hammering in your chest. there's no way she can be serious.

"you're not serious," you mutter, "you're the one who ignored me in the middle of the dining hall. in front of everyone."

karina remains silent, her gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. the car moves forward again, a little slower this time, and the silence hangs heavily between you. you can't believe she's acting like this.

"just turn around and take me home," you demand.

"no."

"why not?"

"your board's at my place," she says, cutting you off before you can protest. "don't you want it back?"

"i don't need it."

"yeah, you do," she responds, her tone matter-of-fact. "you can't do your stupid little tricks without it."

the word stings. "it's not stupid."

"sure," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. "it's not stupid. but it is pointless. and a waste of time."

you swallow hard, your throat dry. you don't know what to say, so you just stare out the window, trying to blink back the tears forming in your eyes. this is a new low, even for karina.

when she parks in front of her house, you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out, waiting by the door while she heads inside. a few moments later, she returns, handing you your board. you take it, inspecting it absentmindedly as karina leans against the doorframe, watching you.

"you never showed me that trick," she says suddenly, her voice softer now.

"yeah, well," you mutter, turning away. "there's a reason for that."

"show me now," she insists, nodding toward the driveway.

you sigh, glancing down at the skateboard. "karina—"

"c'mon, please."

you shake your head, still not meeting her gaze. "forget it."

"it won't take long," she presses, her eyes pleading. "i just wanna see it once."

"why? so you can make fun of me?"

"no," she insists, stepping closer. "i won't. i promise."

without really knowing why, you give in. you roll the board forward and step onto it carefully. as soon as you shift your weight, the board wobbles unnaturally, and before you can react, the screws give way, sending you sprawling onto the ground. pain shoots through your palms and knees as you catch yourself, the board clattering a few feet away.

karina is by your side in an instant, crouching down and reaching for you. "are you okay?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

you sit up slowly, grimacing as pain radiates from your arm. your other hand instinctively cradles it, and you notice the sharp throb in your wrist, which is already starting to swell.

"shit," you hiss through clenched teeth, trying to move your fingers but finding it difficult.

"let me see," karina says, her voice soft yet urgent. she reaches for your arm, but you flinch, pulling it back.

"i'm fine," you snap, more out of frustration than anger. the pain and embarrassment are making it hard to think clearly.

"you're not fine," karina counters, her eyes darting between your face and your arm. "we need to get you to a hospital."

"i said i'm fine," you repeat stubbornly, though you know she's right. the pain is getting worse by the second, and you're starting to feel a little lightheaded.

karina sighs, standing up and brushing off her hands. "get in the car," she says firmly, leaving no room for argument.

you don't have the energy to fight her this time. carefully, you push yourself to your feet, wincing as the movement jostles your injured arm. karina is at your side instantly, steadying you with a hand on your back. you want to tell her you don't need her help, but the words die on your tongue.

the ride to the hospital is silent, the tension between you thick and suffocating. karina's grip on the steering wheel is tight, her knuckles white again, but this time her jaw isn't set in anger. instead, she looks... worried. the sight of her like this makes your chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with your arm.

when you arrive at the emergency room, karina parks hastily and helps you inside. the next hour passes in a blur of x-rays, ice packs, and medical jargon. the doctor confirms it's a bad sprain, not a break, and your arm is wrapped in a snug bandage to immobilize it. you're given a sling to wear for the next few weeks and a prescription for pain medication.

it's not until the two of you are cuddled up in bed, her body pressed against yours, her head resting on your shoulder, that she finally breaks the silence. "i'm sorry," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "i didn't mean to hurt you."

"i know," you murmur, reaching up with your good hand to stroke her hair gently. it's the first time she's apologized for anything.

"you're really good," she says softly, "on your board, i mean."

"oh."

"and the tricks you were talking about are cool," she adds, her eyes searching yours.

"thanks."

"i shouldn't have called them stupid."

"no," you agree, your heart aching again, but not as badly this time. "you shouldn't have."

karina nods, her gaze dropping to the sling holding your arm in place. she reaches out, running her fingers over the fabric. "does it hurt?"

"not right now," you reassure her, the painkillers kicking in.

"that's good," she sighs, her head drooping slightly.

you smile faintly, feeling exhaustion wash over you. "you should get some sleep," you suggest, knowing how little sleep she normally gets.

"you first," she mumbles, her eyes closing.

with a soft chuckle, you pull her closer and let yourself drift off.

karina has been acting strange since the accident—but not in a bad way. there's a new quietness to her, a thoughtful edge that wasn't there before. sometimes, you catch her staring at you with an unreadable expression, her lips pressed together like she wants to say something but can't. every time you ask, though, she just shrugs and says, "nothing."

the two of you are back in her office, putting the finishing touches on your project. the hours stretch on, and the golden hues of the setting sun spill through the window, painting the room in soft orange and pink. the light catches on her face, highlighting her features in a way that almost makes her look angelic.

"are you sure?" you ask, tilting your head to study her.

"mhm," karina hums distractedly, turning back to her computer as though the question didn't faze her.

your phone buzzes on the table, drawing both your attention. glancing down, you see a message from yunjin:

"are you busy tonight? we're going to the skate park."

as you start to type out a reply, you notice karina's gaze flick toward your phone. this time, she doesn't bother hiding it, her eyes lingering for a moment too long. you shift uncomfortably, moving your arm in its sling to shield your screen. her eyes narrow slightly, and you see her jaw tighten.

karina studies you for a moment, her expression unreadable. then, out of nowhere, she jumps up from her seat, snatching your phone from the table.

"hey! what the hell?" you shoot up from your seat, scrambling to follow her as she storms out of the room.

"what's so important on your phone?" she snaps, holding it just out of your reach.

you frown, struggling to keep up with her as she strides down the hallway. you reach out, grasping for the device, but she dodges your attempts, easily keeping it out of your grasp. "give it back, karina," you say, exasperated.

"why? so you can text yunjin and ditch me?" she retorts, spinning on her heel to face you. "are you really that desperate to hang out with her?"

"what are you even talking about?"

karina ignores your question, turning on her heel and continuing down the hallway. she doesn't look back, and you can feel the frustration bubbling up inside you, mixing with confusion. karina's eyes flash. "don't play dumb. i see the way she looks at you."

"oh, come on. yunjin is just a friend."

"sure she is," karina scoffs, her grip on your phone tightening.

"and what about you lee jae wook? should i pretend i haven't noticed how close you two have gotten?" you suddenly mention. karina freezes, her face going pale. for a moment, she looks almost scared, but it's quickly replaced by anger, her brows knitting together.

her eyes narrow, and she takes a step closer, her voice low and dangerous. "what's that supposed to mean?"

you hold your ground, your own anger rising to meet hers. "it means i see how he looks at you, and how you look at him."

"we're just friends."

"yeah? just like you and i are friends?"

karina opens her mouth to respond, but the words die on her tongue. she hesitates, her eyes flicking away. karina looks away, her knuckles white as she grips your phone. then, as if the tension becomes too much, she turns and heads for the front door.

"where are you going?" you call after her, following her down the hallway.

"out," she says curtly, throwing open the door.

"karina, wait!" you step outside just as she rushes to her car. she fumbles with her keys, but when she tries to start the engine, the car sputters and lets out a puff of smoke.

you cross your arms, standing in the doorway. "looks like your car has other plans. just come back inside before you make things worse."

karina slams her hand against the steering wheel in frustration, her head dropping for a moment as she lets out an audible sigh. she stays there for a few seconds before grabbing your phone and storming back toward the house, her heels clicking sharply against the driveway.

"you're impossible," she mutters under her breath as she brushes past you, her shoulder lightly bumping yours.

"what is your problem, huh? you're the one who started this, stealing my phone like some kid."

she whirls around at that, her eyes blazing. "maybe if you weren't so secretive, i wouldn't have to!"

"secretive?" you laugh bitterly, stepping closer. "says the girl who's been cozying up to lee jae wook every chance she gets!"

karina's jaw clenches, her expression darkening. "i told you, there's nothing between us. why won't you believe me?"

"because," you say, the words spilling out before you can stop them. "it's clear there's something between you two. and it's not just friendship."

that's the final straw. before you can react, karina shoves you back, her hands pushing against your shoulders. you stumble, colliding with the edge of a decorative marble statue near the staircase. the wind is knocked out of you as your back hits the solid stone, the force sending a jolt of pain through your injured arm. you grit your teeth, trying not to wince, but the action is futile.

karina freezes as you collide with the marble statue, her eyes widening in shock. but the guilt that flickers across her face is gone in an instant, replaced by frustration.

"what is wrong with you?" she snaps, throwing her hands up. "why do you have to be such a bitch all the time? can't you just admit when you're wrong for once?"

your chest tightens, your heart hammering against your ribcage. the anger in her words stings, and the pain from your fall only adds fuel to the fire. you grit your teeth, pushing yourself off the statue despite the sharp ache radiating from your back. "me? you're the one pushing me into shit because your car won't start."

"because you did something to it!" she yells, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips. "can you prove that?"

karina lets out a bitter laugh, pacing a few steps before spinning to face you again. "of course it was you. i saw you on the security camera you fucking idiot, don't try and deny it. why would i hurt you when i've never done anything but take care of you?"

"take care of me?" you echo incredulously, "you think i owe you something because you let me crash at your place? is that what this is about?"

karina's eyes flash, her frustration boiling over as she throws her hands up in disbelief. "owe me something? you've got to be kidding me. this isn't about owing me—it's about the fact that i've bent over backwards for you, and this is how you repay me? by sabotaging my car and lying to my face?"

"yeah?" you fire back, stepping closer as your voice rises. "you bend over backwards? don't make me laugh, karina. i know you messed with my board. you think i wouldn't notice? the loosened trucks, the scratches that weren't there before? what, was that your idea of 'taking care of me' too?"

karina blinks repeatedly, her eyebrows furrowing together. "are you serious right now? you think i'd stoop that low? god, you're so paranoid it's pathetic."

you scoff, crossing your arms. "paranoid? you're the one who stole my phone and shoved me into a damn statue because i wouldn't let you snoop. spare me the innocent act, karina. if you wanted to screw me over, you could've at least been subtle about it."

her jaw tightens, and she takes a sharp step toward you, closing the gap. her eyes are burning, and you can feel the heat radiating off her skin as she leans closer.

"fuck you," she growls, her voice low and dangerous. "fuck you, and fuck your stupid project. i don't need you, and i don't need this."

her words hit hard, and for a second, you almost waver. then the anger returns, and you square your shoulders, meeting her gaze with just as much fury. "funny, because you sure act like you do. all this—" you gesture between the two of you, "—feels a hell of a lot like need, karina."

she recoils, her face contorting with disgust. "god, do you ever shut up?"

"why don't you make me?"

the words slip out without thinking. the air hangs heavy between the two of you, and for a moment, everything is still. then, before you can react, her hand is fisted in the front of your shirt, and she's kissing you hard. the kiss is messy and rough, a clash of teeth and tongues. karina pushes forward, shoving you back until your body collides with the wall. the impact sends a jolt of pain through your arm, but you barely notice. her mouth is hot and demanding against yours, her teeth grazing your lower lip.

your hand tangles in her hair, tugging hard enough to elicit a low groan from her. the sound spurs you on, and you grip her tighter, pulling her closer until there's no space left between the two of you.

"that's better," karina mutters against your lips, her breath warm against your skin. her hands find the hem of your shirt, slipping under the fabric. her touch is like fire, sending a wave of heat through your entire body.

"shut up," you breathe, tugging at her shirt, "and take this off."

karina smirks against your lips, pulling back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded. "bossy, aren't you?" she teases, but her hands are already moving, tugging her shirt over her head and tossing it carelessly to the floor.

[mysoulspiralbound]

This is great because it's only embarrassingly too much popcorn to Danny. To everyone else, they just summoned an eldritch god in the middle of a fight and he showed up with popcorn. Just floating in the middle of the room, surveying the chaos but saying nothing. And then he throws a handful into his mouth and the cultists are like "should we resume the fight? If this is a show to him we should make this a good one, right?" Meanwhile the JL is kind of half panicked half reassured by the fact that this ghost/demon/god/thing is at the very least only watching, not interfering. Probably still bad that human suffering comes with popcorn, but it's still possible he'll be satisfied when the fight is done?

So the cultists kind of awkwardly resume swinging and the heroes obviously go back to stopping them. Danny can't really leave so... I guess he's just finishing the popcorn until these guys decide who gets to talk to him. Kind of rude to summon him before they're ready and all that, but he's just a little too tired to care and it is kind of cool to be watching a bunch of superheroes and aliens in person. It's probably better than the movie would have been even if he's still mad at the timing.

Danny absolutely is playing favorite though, so when someone jumps at GL from behind he calls out a warning, and when someone manages to land a hit on he thinks it might he Robin? he throws a handful of popcorn at the guy and yells at them to pick on someone their own size.

Good news, Ghost King who brought popcorn to their fight seems to be supporting the heroes. Bad news, the cult isn't really happy about this, and are now trying to win him over with promises of gold, riches, offerings, etc. Good news! Danny does not want offerings. Bad news, he's figured out the cultists are the ones who made the circle, so he's trapped till they strike a deal or the spell wears off.

Eventually the fight's over and the bad guys are all tied up and now the JL is trying to do diplomacy well enough to get this guy to leave peacefully. Danny explains he can only talk to the guy who led the spell, gesturing to someone in the pile of defeated bad guys, but he won't cause any problems if they just break the circle so he can get back home pretty please. They're hesitant because ya know, safety reasons, and ask some questions like, "who are you?" and "what are your thoughts on gladiatorial combat?" and "can we trust you to not start killing people?"

Danny answers honestly, though not detailed, with a type of ghost, ew no, and uhh yeah? which doesn't really help the league. When he realizes they thought the popcorn thing was like, flippant and a godly show of power, he quietly admits he was actually kind of going to see a movie with his living friends. He even made space in his stupid kingly calendar so he'd really like to at least see (he checks his phantom form "ghost powers proof phone) the last five minutes maybe?

At the mention of living friends and a popular current movie title (idk something about half the league has heard about) they realize that King or no, this is still a kid. None of them want to think about how old he must have been when he died. He looks young. Clark rummages through his pockets and finds enough cash for new tickets, more than just one. Clark offers it to the kid, assuming he might not have human money on hand. Danny laughs because Sam actually covered all three of them, and he has to explain that ghost or no if he wants a reserved seat, he needs to actually pay for it. And sure he can occupy someone else's seat but it's super uncomfortable and gross to overlap someone like that. Danny still has half a tub of popcorn though (it was absolutely too much) so he offers to trade it.

Danny offers mostly because the speedsters have been eyeing it, but seeing a maybe 12 year old? try to buy his freedom with a half finished bucket of popcorn kind of breaks down any resolve they have to keep him trapped, even for their own safety. They ask a few more questions, but the kid clearly doesn't want to hurt anyone, and while he describes the fight as "cool as fuck, i mean heck, Mr. Superman" he also freaks out at the implication he might make more ghosts on purpose for the sake of increasing his kingdom.

"Why would I want to do that? I have enough people to be responsible for and even if I didn't, everyone's gotta cross over at some point. Death sucks, I should know, I died. The powers of cool but hot dogs trying to eat you back and ghost hunters trying to kill you is so not worth it. Plus it hurt a fu- heck-ton."

So good news again is that this kid is clearly not a threat, and finally someone's scratched the circle out for him. And he got paid! Not the worst summons he's ever been to, only really loses points for timing. On the other hand the JL just realized the King of Ghosts apparently has a ghost hunter problem, and to make matters worse, he's corrected his own swearing like twice and is meeting up with friends at the movies. This is clearly still a kid mentally, not just physically, no matter how long he's been dead. Hooray for new case files.

So Danny got summoned by a cult the JL failed to stop. Problem, he's a little too hungry to care

I had 2 ideas for this so you can choose which one you want.

Danny had forgotten to eat for like 24 hours when doing ghost king shit, so when he finally got some food and felt himself being pulled into a summoning he decided that whoever it was could deal with him eating, so he grabbed his plate and kept eating. To say the cult and JL were expecting to see a massive eldritch king of ghosts and space sitting cross-legged like a teenager and eating (insert the most random food you wouldn't expect a regal king to eat) would be a lie.

Danny, with food in his mouth: You're the ones who summoned me while I was in the middle of eating, so you get to deal with it.

OR

Danny had forgotten he needed food, again, but just as he was about to sit down to start eating he suddenly got summoned by some random cult. So now he's standing in the middle of a summoning circle that's surrounded by cultists and heroes, but he doesn't care, he's now just disappointed in the world and a little sad.

Danny, looking an ancient god and king of space and terror, in the most pathetic and sad voice: My dino nuggies D:

[theorist-fox]

Good Luck

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Crossposted on AO3.

Part 1 >> Part 2 >> Part 3 >> Part 4 >> Part 5

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: There’s only so much you can endure for love. Simon’s avoidance takes him one step too far, and this time, there’s no turning back.

18+

CW: angst, arguments, canon typical violence (GSW, surgery, medical talk), a drop of smut.

I listened to this song while writing!

Masterlist 🦊 | Series Masterlist 🦊

The treadmill runs underfoot when it shouldn't. 

You shouldn't be here—when the lights in the base are off, and curfew has clocked in. Not when your side is still aching, and your injury is still mending.

One would think that after ages in the special forces, you'd get used to gunshot wounds. 

Truth is—you never do. It's always the same burning pain that makes you piss yourself and throw up your guts. How you survived is still a big, fat question mark—sniper rifles are made to kill, not to neutralize. If that bullet had hit a little higher, you'd be six feet underground, not doing some cardio in the HQ gym.

Even now, two months after the incident, the stabbing ache in your gut still lingers. Granted, it's not fully healed, so any pain you feel is your fault. But sitting idly, twiddling your thumbs, feels far too passive for you. So, you decide to resort to the simplest training—cardio, light weightlifting—anything that might help the rage simmering in your chest subside.

Because yes—the worst thing festering in your guts, right in the broken sinews and ripped flesh, isn't the mending hole of a .308 round, but a growing anger that's making it hard for your limbs to sit still.

And it's that anger that's slowing down the healing process, it must be. 

You're running—not too fast. No headphones on, because you want to hear your breath panting and your feet thudding against the moving treadmill. You want to taste copper down your throat. 

Overexertion. Salivating tongue. The wonderful ache of sore muscles. 

Alive, strong, fast, reliable.

A friendly reminder that even though there is someone else occupying your spot in the team, you're still as fan-fucking-tastic as ever.

A friendly reminder that their role is only temporary. That when you're back on your feet, you're going to be the fifth member of that task force again. 

Breakfasts with Soap, early morning runs with Gaz, cigars in the evening with Price.

Ghost, on the other hand, can go and fuck himself. Hard. 

You don't blame him, really. Or, well, maybe a little. A smidge. 

Because that's just who he is. You can't blame someone for being who they are—and what he is, is a bastard. 

You should've known the moment you met him, the second he introduced himself as Ghost instead of Simon Riley, all those years back.

Instead of giving in, instead of acting kind, caring, and giving him your time—instead, instead, instead—you should've bit the same way he bit you. Ravaged you. Gave you hot and cold, push and pull, sunk his teeth until the bone, until you were nothing more than a rag doll in the maws of a rabid dog.

Surely, you couldn't have expected him to visit.

You couldn't have expected him to knock on your hospital room door, cuppa in hand, and have him give you his precious, precious time.

What you should've done was expect him to treat you in person like he treats you in bed. 

A whore: warm enough to fit his cock in, wet enough to stroke his ego. You being out of commission for anything remotely related to sex meant you being out of his life—plain and simple. 

A hard pill to swallow, but a true one.

And so, you run. 

You run and stare deadly holes into the wall in front of you. 

You run and ignore how the forming scar on your side tightens at each movement. 

You run and try your damned hardest to focus on yourself: on your body feeling alive even when unhooked from cables and machines, on the fog in your brain finally dissipating, on your chest filling and relaxing even without oxygen pumped in your nose.

Ten minutes turn into twenty, until you can feel your thighs chafe and your calves cramp, but still you push through. Because the alternative, the only other thing that would make your stomach finally loosen, would be to have that bastard within reach. Punch him until he hurts like you did.

Alas, God seems to have heard, for the next thing you know, is that Simon is standing, jaded as always, at the threshold of the gym to your left.

As soon as you spot him in your periphery, you punch the big red button on the treadmill. Your run slows to a walk before you stop completely and get down. 

You don't even look at him as you collect your water bottle from the floor, grunting softly when your injury folds and aches.

You don't even lift your head when you reply with a caustic, "Look what the cat dragged in."

He snorts. How dare he.

"See you got your wit back."

It's been two months since you last heard his voice. 

When you got shot and blacked out, the last thing you registered was his voice roaring over comms—but judging by the distant behaviour he assumed right afterwards, the complete absence during your hospitalization, you convinced yourself that the anguished cry of your name you've heard was imagined altogether.

One last attempt of your brain to find some comfort in the pain.

However, a treacherous shiver still runs down your spine when he speaks. The thickness of his voice, the rasp that scratches a nice spot in your brain. 

You shake your shoulders to get rid of it.

It's only then that you clock his form with your eyes. You tongue your cheek.

"Never left," you say, uncapping your water bottle. "Not that you'd know anyway, mh?"

As you drink, the balaclava shifts at his jaw as if he's running his tongue over his teeth. Thinking which approach to take—tactical and measured or absolutely ballistic and corrosive.

"You shouldn't be 'ere." He drawls with that grating tone that makes you believe he knows something more than you do.

Measured it is.

"Got cleared."

"Doc said otherwise."

"As obsessed as ever, uh?"

How his eyes sharpen tells you you've cut deeper than any razor blade could. A smug smile blooms on your cheeks because small things feel like huge victories when there are too many losses to count.

"You're under my command." He says bluntly, "Had to keep myself updated."

"Normal people would ask."

He tilts his head. "M'sure you gathered I'm anything but."

"Right," you say with a wry grin. "What was the doctor's diagnosis, then?"

"Lucky your liver got out of it intact," he replies, "Exit wound clear, no fragments. Minimal internal dam—"

"Oh no, I know that." You cut in, sickly sweet, like poison more than honey. "I meant yours."

His eyes darken, with a warning glint that should be enough to pierce through your resolve—shame for him that you're bulletproof and sharp like a knife. You don't care if it'll hurt—let it. After all, there is little left to lose, and you're sure that whatever is left will soon be lost.

"Abandonment issues? Does it stem from your childhood? Are you projecting something on me, Simon?"

"Sergeant," he says, lower than a growl. 

"What?" You snap, tongue riddled with bitterness. "Isn't that what's happening? Takin' my life apart 'cause you couldn't sort out yours?"

Simon rolls his shoulders and straightens his neck. He often does it when he wants to appear taller, broader, scarier—though you know better.

And right now, he's just as tense as you are. 

Both of you are teetering on the edge, walking a fine line that could lead to resolution, but you're afraid it won't. Not this time.

Each step he takes bends the thin rope under his weight. You wobble—precarious, afraid, a gust of wind is all it would take for you to fall and lose it all in one breath: the earned, mutual trust, the fragile love—no matter how disjointed and uncertain at times.

Reluctantly, you know that it has been tender, too.

"I'd watch my tongue if I were you,” he says. A measured threat.

Your eyes are sharp, and you don't dare to breathe. The space between your faces is tense—a ticking time bomb, something preceding destruction.

"And I'd stay the fuck back." You scowl. "If I were you."

There's a sneer painting his face; you're sure of it, even if it's out of sight. Something heavy and dark, hidden under fabric. 

"Aye, I have," he says at length. "For two months. But looks like you didn't enjoy that much, did ya now?"

Your brows fly to your forehead. Utter disbelief at the sheer audacity of him. Apparently, today isn't one of those days in which you can take what you dish out. 

Fuck it, you'll live.

"You think this is funny?" You scowl, cocking your head.

You watch his jaw shift, perhaps trying to reply, but you don't give him time. He's had plenty of it and wasted it all.

"You think it's alright, what you did?"

Your teeth grit until your head hurts. 

"Not even a knock, Simon." Your voice rises in volume and anger alike. "Two months. Not a call, a text, a wordpassed through Johnny."

Your chest grows tight, and those vines climb upward, closing in on your throat and head all the same. The pressure in your skull threatens tears.

You'd rather get shot again than cry now, of all times.

You thought he'd carved a path specifically for you. Instead, he was only covering your eyes in gentle kisses and cottoning your ears with sweet words—perhaps some remorse, if he could feel it at all. Treated you like a hungry dog, throwing a bone so you'd turn into a more docile pup, whimpering and asking for pets.

And still, you kept clinging with your fingernails to the scraps of tenderness he offered, even when unsure of their authenticity.

There is no trace of that naivete now embedded in your eyes. You're as hard as he's portraying himself to be.

Simon now studies the switch. He must see the sadness in there, even if it's buried under a thick layer of anger and spite. 

"Figured I'd leave ya to it," he says at last, pressing his thumb between his brows—a subtle gesture betraying his calm facade. "Give ya time to recover."

What a poor fucking excuse.

Oh, you want to make him hurt like he did you. 

Make him feel two months' worth of staring at the plain white door of the hospital room, waiting for it to open. Waiting to see him duck under the doorframe, holding a pack of Marlboros in his hand. 

Make a joke about smoking in hospital rooms and how irresponsible that would be, how insensitive, only for him to tinker with the smoke alarm and turn the orange butt of a ciggie your way. 

Bring you tea. The book you still haven't finished. Tell you about his day. 

More than sixty days spent pining, waiting, hoping like a helpless lunatic, with Johnny's pitying blues glued on the lines between your brows.

"Oh, spare me." You scoff. "At least have the decency to do that much."

His eyes narrow. You inhale, challenging him with your glare.

Fuck, he doesn't have to love you—to even like you—if that's the barrier he wants to put up.

But basic human decency doesn't seem much to demand. Especially knowing that you were so much more before this ordeal began. You were a colleague, a friend. A shag here and there doesn't cancel that. How can occasional sex erase years and years of carefully built partnerships, in and out of work?

How can he so easily change his view of you just because you parted your legs for him?

It hurts when you realize it. When it hits you right in the head like that bullet pierced your side. That you're done giving him excuses, that you're done giving him time.

That it's now or never again.

It escapes your mouth like something strangled, fighting its way out with elbows and fists. Thrashing through your throat, guided by better judgment and self-preservation, even as your heart begs for a moment more. 

"You know this doesn't work, right?" You gesture in the space between you two. "You and I."

That seems to be what wakes him. His eyes look alarmed, even if only for a moment, and it's a flash so brief you're not even sure it happened at all.

"We talked 'bout—"

"Oh, shut the fuck up." You cut in, exasperation showing in the way your voice rises. 

He jolts. Freezes.

You sigh a shaky breath. Your body burns hot, like the feelings brewing at the bottom of a much too-deep pot are finally spilling out. Skin lighting up, all too aware of everything, from the blood rushing to your cheeks to the throbbing ache of your healing wound.

"Yeah, we had that chat—no feelings, no strings attached, or whatever rubbish you tell yourself to sleep at night."

Your heart feels heavier, like someone's poured cement over it, and it's about to be tossed into deep waters.

"Doesn't mean you've got the right to treat me like this." You say in a single breath. "Like I'm not even a person. Like I don't matter unless I'm naked."

Something in him hardens like he's looking at you through his scope: squinting his eyes, steeling his shoulders. You struck a raw nerve, casting him in a light that even he wouldn't dare to face, self-critical as he may be.

Or you're just describing what you see. What he's shown you. Given you. Not who he is.

But how are you supposed to know that? Discern the mask from the man when he guards the latter so viciously.

"I'm not just someone you fuck," you say through gritted teeth. "I'm a person. I'm your sergeant—I'm your friend. I deserve your respect."

You slam a finger to his chest. The impact is not as strong as it is shocking.

Simon stumbles back.

"I had your back long before we started fucking, and when I get shot, you don't even bother knocking?" You exclaim. "You hear how fucked up that is? And you think I'll let it slide without consequences?"

You retreat your hand, trembling like a leaf. It falls at your side limply, surrendered as you are.

"You don't know me if you think that."

You gulp down something heavy stuck in your throat, but your voice remains abrasive and sharp.

"And I don't know why I ever thought otherwise."

You step back, holding his eyes a moment more—daring to bite back at your words. Daring to fabricate an excuse.

But you don't waste energy to gauge his thoughts this time. You have tried—so strenuously— to discover Simon Riley, but there are walls too thick to climb, gates too rusted and too old to be opened.

And, for once, you forgive yourself for having failed.

Simon stands stock still under the yellow lights of the gym, hands curled into fists at his sides, fighting an invisible enemy. A statue of a man, stone cold and so awfully far, far away.

You walk past him, water bottle clutched in your hand so tight you think your knuckles might snap.

The doorway's left behind you. Your steps quicken the farther you get from the gym, watching the light from the door give way to the darkness of a sleeping headquarters. 

You don't hear his steps, and you're unsure whether he's following. Hard to tell—the man's a ghost in more ways than just his name. Silent and prudent even when wrapped in tac gear up to his head.

When you reach your room, you think you're safe from further arguments. No more raising your voice, no more putting your heart through the meat grinder. It's gone and done, and you only want to get in your bed and not think about it until you wake up tomorrow. 

Still, your hands shake. You test for your keys in the tight pocket of your leggings and curse under your breath when you pluck them out and they fall from between your fingers.

When you're about to bend down, cussing further because your side still aches, a hand steals them from your sight. You follow the tattoos up to the face of the owner, even if you don't have to do so to recognize him.

He's not wearing the mask anymore. He has it tucked in a pocket of his jeans; you see the dark cloth peeking from the light blue. His shoulders are slouched, hair tousled and messy, likely due to his fingers running through it. Pale cheeks and sunken eyes, darker underneath, like he hasn't caught a wink in a while. 

A certain sadness in them, too. But that might be what your eyes want you to see—rationally, you would put all that much, much past him.

"Careful," he murmurs, handing the keys back to you.

You snatch them from his hands and practically punch them into the keyhole.

"Sarge—"

"No."

He calls your name.

"No."

You slam the door behind you once you're inside, but you don't hear the closing thud. When you look over your shoulder, you find him holding it open. Without further questions or waiting for you to rebut, he steps inside. 

You glower to deter him. It's useless.

Simon closes the door behind him and leans against it. His hand effortlessly finds the switch at the entrance and flicks it on. 

As you blink to adjust to the sudden light, your eyes naturally focus on him: a mountain of a man clad in onyx with the pale cream backdrop of your door. 

"Out," you bark.

He looks at you with eyes so horribly tired. Exhausted. Upset.

"Fuck's sake, jus' listen."

And his voice is not so different.

Then, there's nothing you can do. 

Those boots have been here without your frank permission more times than you can count. You're aware of the impossibility of redirecting them outside. 

You scowl, fingers tightening around the water bottle in your hand because his nerve could bloody well be the last straw.

But still—

You nod. Jaw locked tight.

"Make it quick."

He spares not a second more.

"Day o' the surgery, after they cut you open," he says. "I came."

He points at his neck. 

"Had a tube shoved down your throat, a thing around your chin to keep ya mouth open."

Then, to his face. 

"Beaten black an' blue, you were—swollen an' all. Reckon it was probably the fall after the shot—dunno, couldn't fuckin' think when I saw ya like that."

He licks his lips. Bows his head as if the floor might lend him the strength he needs to pull himself together.

He looks up again. Dark eyes tender unlike anything you've ever seen, and yet one corner of his mouth is downturned, like he's about to say something he's very disappointed with.

Your body is gelatin. Flaccid. Cotton ears, foggy sight, clammy palms. 

"You looked dead," he swallows something thick. "And I wished you were."

Your bottle slips from your hands and falls to the floor. A metallic thud. Water sloshes back and forth as it rolls on the linoleum until it stills.

Suddenly, you feel like a kid who's looking for her ma. 

There's a sadness so deep and suffocating you can't quite explain it if not by digging up childhood memories—a sense of loss, of being small and helpless and alone.

You fought tears all this time, and now it feels fruitless even to try. It's written all over your face anyway. 

You taste their salt before you feel your eyes swell with them.

"Fuck. You." You tell him, voice hoarse but no less spiteful.

"Wished you were dead—"

He walks to you.

"You're disgusting—"

"Because—"

Closer.

"Don't want to see your fucking face again—"

"I didn't know wha' to do."

Until he stands with his boots bumping your trainers. Until the cold wall touches the sweat on your back.

He holds your face in his hands.

You pull back. He doesn't let go.

"'Cause I don't know, love—" He breathes tenderly, like his voice is not his, while your nails claw at his wrist so he lets go.

He doesn't.

"I don't know how to mourn the livin'," he says, "Only the dead."

He gulps. You fall still.

"You said ya wouldn't put me through that again, but you did," he croaks. "Made it worse this time. I couldn't take it."

He thumbs your tears.

"Would've been easier f'me to bury ya with the others an' let the guilt finish me off."

Simon leans in until his lips brush your forehead. When he realizes you won't fight back anymore, his hands slide to your shoulders, then down your arms.

Gingerly, his fingers twine with yours. He doesn't tighten his hold; he merely tests the thin skin of your knuckles.

You pull back a step, burning eyes drifting up at him through the tears clumping your lashes. Truthfully, you weren't expecting him to cry with you. You don't think Simon can—maybe he's already shed one too many tears.

But his cheeks are glowing red. His eyelids are heavy, eyes cast down to you. He's just as affected as you are, but he shows it differently in those subtle ways you've learned to read.

After fighting the tremble of your lips, you steady yourself. Fingers warm within his own; you don't pull them away. 

"I don't deserve what you did to me."

Your voice is so tight you hate yourself for it, but if you don't speak your mind now, you're afraid you never will.

He shakes his head slowly, never straying from your eyes. 

"You don't."

Leaning down slowly, giving you ample time to move away if you wish, Simon kisses your shoulder. 

You sigh.

"Don't deserve a ton o' the shite I put ya through," he whispers.

His ear is right next to your lips. You're sure that no matter how much you try to control yourself, he'll quickly gather your feelings by the way your pulse thunders beneath his kiss.

So why hide it at all?

"And yet you never apologized for a single one of them."

Simon gulps. A subtle sound, as subtle as the man who made it. 

He pulls back. Smooths back your hair, sliding a hand from your forehead to your scalp. 

You lean into his touch, exhaling a breath that trembles like your hands.

"Never did, did I." He breathes. 

He leans in and presses a kiss between your brows, then down the bridge of your nose, to your cheek, the corner of your mouth. You close your eyes so he can navigate this new level of intimacy he's never initiated nor shown at all.

And then he captures your lips. 

His shoulders soften.

A long, drawn-out sigh from his nose. 

He pushes forward, forcing the back of your head against the wall. His hands travel to your stomach, hesitant and curious. He skims over the thicker patch of fabric, where the surgery scar is mending under soft, fresh bandages. 

A slight hiss in your breath because it still feels sore to the touch is what makes Simon pull back. Just enough to have the tips of your noses graze.

Suddenly, he kneels at your feet. 

Big hands envelop your waist, touch gentle but still present enough to rip the air out of your lungs. His thumb brushes over the bandage, causing you to shift uncomfortably.

You look down. Your eyes touch.

The silence around you cracks when he speaks, softness in his breath.

"M'sorry."

Chest tight and sore, like he just punched it. 

He keeps his eyes on you, not to study your expression but to convey his own. The earnestness you catch in there ripples through you like a shockwave ready to shatter you whole.

He leans in and buries his nose right above your belly button, in the rougher fabric of your shirt.

His thumbs hook at the hem, lifting it up so that his face meets your stomach.

"Tell me to fuck off, an' I will," he whispers to your skin. "Know I deserve it."

He kisses your belly, carefully navigating around your bandaged injury. 

"But fuck," he sighs. "I hope you don't."

His lips travel lower, where the waistband of your legging cinches your hips. His kisses turn open but unhurried, like he just wants to savour what he's denied himself for too long.

You roll your lips between your teeth, unsure of how to behave.

"Fuckin' hope you don't," he murmurs.

Your hands land on his head, then, hesitant and trembling, fingers threaded through his hair. Simon sighs like you took the weight off his shoulders and got rid of it entirely.

His fingers curl at the hem of your leggings. 

Slowly, he rolls them down, and he follows their trail, drawing his tongue and his lips down your thighs to your knee. His hand slips to your shoe, and he helps you take it off. Then to the other. Your socks, your pants, until your legs are bare, fabric tossed aside in a heap on the floor.

Simon never stands up.

He holds you by your hips with a covetous grip, but still soft enough to not hurt, almost mimicking the way his mouth moves over you: with smothered hunger, with gentle greed, one that feels somehow oppositely selfless.

Like he's doing it because it feels good for you and not because he desires to have it.

Simon's nose dips in the crease of your thighs. A kiss there, one to the seam of your labia, one on your mound.

His eyes flicker to you.

The lights in your room are a soft yellow, casting a gentle glow on his kneeling body that feels somewhat wrong, like there's too much being shown under the sun when only the two of you should witness it.

Gingerly, you slide your hand along the wall until you find the bump of the switch. With a flick of your finger, the lights go off.

The room is pitch dark now. Moonlight laps at the lines of Simon's face like it's trying to make him glow despite how dim everything around him is. 

It takes a while to adjust to the darkness, but you finally see him when you do. The downturn of his eyes, the telltale signs of sleepless nights, wrinkles of exhaustion and endless battles fought within himself.

Utter, devastating regret. 

You wonder if he can spot the heaviness in your eyes. The uncertainty, the fear of falling right back into the cycle, a trap of yours and his making. 

He's going to tell you the nicest things, pull you in until you can only stick to him like glue, and then he's going to vanish from your life. Treat you like you're strangers until you'll somehow find yourself wrapped around his finger again.

And then it'll all start over. Again, and again, and again.

You brush your thumb on his temple.

Simon leans into it like a dog starving for attention.

He hooks his fingers at the thin straps hugging your hipbones. Slowly pulls your knickers down to your ankles as he holds your eyes.

Gently, he coaxes your knee to bend, lifting your leg off the floor. He kisses the side of your foot, your calf and upward, until your knee is draped over his shoulder. 

Slowly, his nose nudges your clit. The muscles in your thighs twitch.

You're not wet; you're not aroused. He isn't either, you can tell. Otherwise, you'd have had his face buried between your legs hours ago.

The tip of his tongue draws a stroke there. Like waves, it reaches the base of your skull. Tips you off balance, almost. Makes your head spin.

Another tentative lick. The tender fingers in his hair turn into claws, and you grip it tighter. 

Another, another, until you're breathless and inevitably dripping. Simon collects it with his fingers, drawing circles at your entrance.

The flat of his tongue meets your clit in a tortuously slow dance, holding you still with an arm encircling your thigh. And then his finger slides in. You're forced to bite your cheek, muffling a moan that only manages to break free as a sigh.

But when you look down, even in the darkness, you see his eyes, glossy and charged. But still so very tired. 

Like yours.

Because maybe he's navigating through this exactly like you, and you hadn't considered it—too absorbed in your own heartache to notice his. And maybe he's even more afraid because when you have nothing to lose, and something's suddenly given to you, you don't know how to behave.

And maybe Simon thinks that doing this is the only way to keep you.

You exchange a look that holds more pain than lust, shaking your head at him so, so softly it’s almost imperceptible. And Simon sighs, surrendered—he takes back his hand, his tongue, and sits back on his heels.

Carefully, you unhook your knee from his shoulder. He doesn't put up a fight, doesn't tighten the hold on your leg. Instead, he drops his arm limp on his thigh. 

You slide down the wall behind you until your knees bump against his. Simon's fingers reach out, almost shy, and trace mindless patterns on your skin. 

He's hunched over, head bowed in what you venture might be shame, or perhaps that grief he said he doesn't know how to carry. 

Your hand touches his cheek. Dark eyes look at you through paler lashes with reluctant understanding.

That it's over, isn't it?

"Doesn't feel right anymore, does it?" You offer gently.

His chest swells. Shoulders taut and suddenly straight, like something's hit his spine and forced it upright. 

He tongues his cheek. Looks away.

"Don't think so, no."

Your lips quiver. It's okay, it was bound to happen. 

It should've happened so long ago. You should've taken the leap and pulled away from him much, much earlier—when your heart wasn't woven to his yet.

"Maybe one day," you say in the darkness, thumb brushing his cheekbone. "When we're not so…"

With your free hand, you gesture at yourselves. 

"…Fucked." You finish with a hint of a breathy laugh in between. 

Simon huffs too, and then deflates.

It's long before his hand comes to cup yours on his cheek. He keeps it there momentarily, while finally giving you the privilege of meeting your eyes.

And he looks so tender, even when he gently brings your hand down, away from his face. He holds it as it lands on his knees.

"Eloquent." He remarks.

You scoff. Roll your eyes with a pathetic sniffle. "Obviously."

He shakes his head softly. A big hand reaches up, and he flicks your nose. You scrunch it up, smiling in a way that doesn't feel forced for the first time since you met tonight.

Simon's thumb brushes your knuckles.

"One day," he repeats. "When we're not fucked."

Your smile feels wet and shaky. Tears are staining your cheek, but it's freeing instead of reluctant, this time.

His eyes are gentle, allowing you to peek through the curtain for the first time. Perhaps it's too dark now to see, but you're hopeful one day you will.

"Good luck to us, then." You say softly.

Simon breathes a chuckle. Brings your knuckles to his lips and holds your hand there.

"Good luck, love."

Biggest thanks to @/void-my-warranty for helping me out, you're a gem 🧡

[snoopychris]

aquarium

in which... chris takes mermaid!reader to the aquarium for the first time

sometimes the ocean served as an escape to you. the corals were beautiful, the animals were so friendly sometimes, and it felt so nice to spend time alone with your thoughts at times. at the very same time, sometimes it felt like a prison of sorts. the ocean, as big as it was, sometimes just felt so repetitive. you were 10 years old the first time your dad had let you go onto land on your own. ever since then, it had been such a relief. although a majority of nights were spent in the water, most of the day was spent on land. the places you visited would always vary, ranging from the beach to your dads restaurant to a different beach to a coffee shop and most recently, the sturniolo house. the friendship that had blossomed between you and chris was something you never expected to happen. you had a few friends on land, but there had never been anybody as adamant on hanging with you than chris. it felt like every time you grabbed your phone, there would be a text asking if you wanted to hang out. it was nice having a friend who seemed to really care.

chris was so grateful to finally have a drivers license. the last time he was here, he had to ask matt to drive him everywhere. this time he didnt. this time, chris could do whatever he wanted as long as his grandmother gave him the keys to a car. she never said no. in the past few weeks, chris had found himself spending a lot of time with you on random beaches you would tell him about.

some had nice fish, some had nice corals, some had lots of sea turtles, some had cool plants, some had cool tide pools. he didnt mind spending time on beaches with you, but sometimes it just wasnt enough. it especially wasnt enough since neither of you ever actually went swimming. he never questioned it– maybe you were just like him and afraid of the water.  sometimes, Chris wanted more. he wanted to be able to take you on nice dates to nice restaurants. 

this was the first time he convinced you to leave the comfort of beaches and his house. something about your entire being drew him towards the aquarium. in small talk conversation, you had told him you’d never been. he had seen people all over his social media apps talking about how it’s one of the most romantic places to take your partner. he knew that you may not have been anywhere near dating, but he just had to take you. your hair was swaying in the wind, the pastel highlights you had recently gotten really showing through. chris wants to kiss you. he knows he can’t, but he really really wants to. 

Chris can’t help but smile when he sees your face light up every time you talk about fish and other sea creatures. he wants to ask how you have such close experience with the blue ringed octopus, but he’s sure that you’ll tell

him the story one day. he wonders how you’ve gone so long living in the Keys and never having gone to the aquarium. chris doesn’t take long to park, but he spends a good minute staring at you. god, you’re beautiful. he runs over to the passenger side of his grandfathers old car, opening the door for you. you send him a small thank you and make your way towards the front door of the building. 

chris feels a blush creep onto his face when your eyes widen in amusement at all of the sea themed decorations. he could’ve gotten the tickets online, but he thought it’d take away from the experience. he makes his way to the cashier, making sure you’re following close behind. both of you recognize the girl standing behind the counter— she’s a girl name kaylynn. you know her for all the wrong reasons. chris knows her for all the right ones. you lick your lips as a look of anger grows on your face. kaylynn tries to be friendly for a second, she really does.

it doesn’t last. “chris… hanging out with the burger girl i see. y’know… you could always hang out with me. we could go to the beach and watch the turtles” she quips. your face contorts as you hold back a response. you could say a lot right now. the look on chris’ face is the only thing holding you back. a small scoff leaves your mouth as you roll your eyes, being met with another comment about your fathers restaurant. you should hold back. not for your sake but for chris’. whatever. you mumble it at first, earning a look from kaylynn. it’s one that screams ‘too scared to fight back?’ you can’t have that. not today. 

“oh my apologies kaylynn. guess you didn’t hear me. so what i said was that you’re a two faced pick me bitch.” if chris wasn’t in shock before, he is now. “pearl!” he yells quietly, his eyebrows high and his mouth hung low. “i’m being honest.” you whisper, snatching the tickets from the girl and walking away. if you could wipe that grin off her face, you would. chris jogs over to you after sending poor kaylynn a semi-apologetic look, gripping onto your wrist gently. 

“what’s that all about?” he asks, letting go of your hand when you sit down on a bench. from what you can tell it’s made of old treasure boxes. “she acts like she cares about all the fish and all the other animals but once i saw her scuba diving and literally stepping on coral with her water shoes. i also saw her litter on a beach.” you explain, crossing your arms. chris shakes his head, running fingers through his hair. “yeah that’s definitely a good excuse for disliking her.” he chuckles, looking around. the two of you still haven’t even entered the aquarium. “here cmon.” he whispers. his hand locks with yours, dragging you to the main attraction. you gasp slightly at the sights you were seeing. even though a lot of the tanks were beautifully decorated, covered in vines and corals, you couldn’t help but feel bad for the fish. some of them were speaking to you. you wished you could help them.

chris can’t help but smile when you put your hand on one of the tanks. you look even more beautiful against the water. “do you um… wanna go swimming with stingrays? they have that here…” your eyes widen at his words. you’re not too sure if it’s because you know this isnt the right place for stingrays or if it’s because there’s open water. a way for you to get caught. you were always careful at the beach. if anything happened you could run away for a bit, dry off, and then come back. if anything happened here there was no escape. chris quickly notices your expression, shaking his head “don’t worry i’m not a fan either! not after steve irwin.” he jokes, continuing to pull you along. you actually really liked stingrays. they were cool. 

you follow close behind chris, hand in hand the entire time. you’d never had a friend guide you like this. it feels nice. every time he turns a corner, there’s more and more fish speaking to you telepathically. it’s something you wanted to turn off sometimes. but others it was nice to hear them when you were swimming alone. “can we get out of here? i feel bad for the fish.” you whisper. chris’ gaze towards you softens, leading you away from the crowds. there’s kids around you screaming. there’s a water table nearby. you hear about it from one of the fish. you gasp slightly at the sight of it, gripping chris’ hand tighter. in your mind, you’re petrified. in chris’ mind, you just like holding his hand. luckily, you make it to the gift shop dry. 

the first thing your hands fly to is a small shark plush. you don’t know why you’re so drawn to it, but you know you just need to have it. chris chuckles, grabbing a similar one. they’re almost identical, the only difference coming from the style of shark. “they’re palm pals. take it.  i’ll buy it for you.” he smiles. you smile back, setting it down on the counter. you feel bad spending his money, but chris feels bad not buying you more. on the way out of the gift shop, you begin to speak. “thank you. this was nice. i know we weren’t here for long but… you’re a good friend chris.” it sends a pang towards chris’ heart, but he knows that you really are nothing more than friends, despite your hands still being intertwined. he shrugs, jokingly flexing his arms next to the car. “it’s what i do.” he smiles, opening the door for you. he grabs onto your hand as you climb in, the roof over your head being a nice comfort. it was a feeling so vastly different from the one inside. there was no water here. 

it’s a bit crazy when you arrive to chris’ house. the drive is only about 25 minutes, and yet in those 25 minutes, the previously clear skies had turned dark grey. it was pouring. chris gently turns the keys out of the ignition, turning towards you. you’re filled with panic again, but your poker face is so spot on that chris doesn’t notice. “y’ready?” he asks, nudging your shoulder. you glance up at him and then outside , shaking your head. “let’s just talk till the rain dies down.” you shrug, pushing your tinseled hair away from your face. chris is never going to decline that offer. the land sometimes felt like an escape. it was such a shame that there were things you’d never be able to do. as much as you hated to admit it, if the ocean was a prison, so was the land. both places you could be at the same time. a strange feeling arises in your stomach when you realize that the only place you’re truly free is any place that you’re with chris.

🫧dividers by @13hoax my angel

🫧tags(reply or message to be added!): @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbratt333@wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @freshhhloveee @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @marrykisskilled @zebonos @chrislova @muwapsturniolo @oopsiedaisydeer @throatgoat4u @surprisecurlyfriesbackup @zebonos @ribbonlovergirl @colorthecosmos444

🫧a/n: this ending was rushed can you tell :/ if you see this within the first few minutes of me positng it ignore how the layout looks. anyway welcome back cgs chris i missed you.

[azziesbattybaddie]

Hellooooo! I've never really sent a request before so I hope I'm doing this right. I saw that you write for adult Nyx and NO ONE ever really writes for him so I was wondering if you could write Nyx x reader based off of the song "not like I'm in love with you" by LEW. Basically just them being like older teenagers maybe and just acting like pining idiots. Maybe if you could do some smut too🥺🙏 I just I love your stuff and I've had this idea in my head and I can't write it myself so... Also I love shadows and snow angels!!!! So cute!!!

Oh my gosh Lovely, your brain! I love it! This was so fun to work on and I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~

We're just friends, right?

Nyx Archeron x Fem Reader

Here's the Spotify code if anyone wanted to listen while reading, just screenshot or download it and scan it in the app.

Ever since Nyx turned 18 he was always flirting a new female. He hardly ever spent time with you anymore and you were upset! I mean you had every write to be, you were his best friend, Which meant you automatically deserved his undivided attention constantly. Rhys thinks otherwise, maybe he can try to knock some sense into you both.

Word count: 10.1k oh my God!!!!

Requested: yes!

Warnings: smut, so much plot, jealousy, p-in-v, oral F receiving, unprotected sex, fairly vanilla surprisingly, Nyx being oblivious for a bit, Nyx also being a skirt chaser, Rhys being the dad we all deserve, we die like men

💔🔥💘

Author's note: this took sooooooooo looooooong! First the app glitched and I lost an hour worth of editing. Then it did it again and I gave up for about 20 minutes and then I came back to try again to find that the app did save the changes and just decided not to tell me! In any case, this fic has taken over 7 hours of editing so far not including the writing so I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!

You sat on Nyx's bed and listened to him as he told you about the fling he had the night before. He was in the bathroom, a towel hanging loosely around his waist as he shaved. You rolled your eyes for the millionth time knowing he couldn't see you at the moment. You were Nyx's best friend had been since you were kids, Unfortunately that meant that you were basically volunteering to listen to him after he has a fling with a new female. Oh well you choose this...

"Ok so after Rita's you took her back to her place and...."

Nyx poked his head out of the bathroom, a lather of shaving cream on his jaw as his eyes met yours. He flashed you a cheeky grin, clearly amused by your eye-rolling antics.

"Well, as you can imagine, things got a bit... heated," he said, drawling the last word. "I mean, have you seen Mia's s place? The view alone was enough to get my blood pumping." He chuckled and disappeared back into the bathroom, the sound of the faucet turning back on. You could hear him continue, his voice echoing slightly off the tiled walls,

"So there we were, on her balcony, the city lights twinkling below us... and one thing led to another. You know how it goes, Anyway, let's just say she was quite... enthusiastic, and the things that girl can do with her hands... Also she moaned like a bitch.. in a good way of course you know Very vocal, if you catch my drift." Another pause, followed by a low, appreciative whistle.

Nyx emerged a moment later, now shaving cream-free and rubbing a towel over his freshly shaven jaw. He flopped down on the bed next to you, still bare- chested and barefoot, the towel just barely covering his modesty.

"Honestly, Y/n, the things that girl could do with her tongue... I'm not sure I'll ever be the same." He shuddered dramatically, a dazed grin spreading across his face at the memory. You knew he was just try to pester you but said nothing. Rolling over to face you, he propped himself up on one elbow, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief and self- satisfaction.

"So, what do you think? Should I go see her again like tomorrow, Or do you think I should let her miss me.... just a little bit?" His grin turned sly, a eyebrow arching wickedly as he waited for your reaction. He knew you'd give him hell, but he also knew you'd never stop him from having his fun... even if a small part of you wished it could be you he was eager to see again.

You gave him a kinda grossed out face at hearing the details but thought for a second. You were just being a good friend, at least that's what you told yourself. It's not like you wanted him like that.... It was just... Whatever...

"You should go for it, I mean if you enjoyed yourself that much... Why wait right?"

Nyx's grin widened, his eyes glinting with triumph as he saw the slightly green tinge to your face.

"Why so squeamish, Y/n?" he teased, reaching out to playfully boop your nose. "It's not like I'm telling you anything you haven't heard before Besides, you're the one who always says I should be more adventurous. He smirked, the word dripping with innuendo. Rolling onto his back, Nyx folded his hands behind his head, stretching out languidly like a satisfied cat.

"I think... I think I will take your advice. Meet up with mia again tomorrow night, see where things go. Unless... you have other plans for me?" His tone was playful, but there was a flicker of something more in his eyes as he looked at you, a hint of a different kind of hunger,

"Gross!"

You shoved his shoulder as he sat up, grabbing the towel before it could fall. You smirked and watched as he entered his closet to find an outfit. It always stung to hear about Nyx's escapades for some reason but he was the high lord and lady's son. He was as witty as his mother and as handsome as his father, no wonder females basically threw themselves at his feet. You'd be lying if you hand thought about doing the same but really you and Nyx had been friends since you were kids, you were just being ridiculous.

"How about this time you wear a shirt that has buttons past your bellybutton" You tease him as you stay on the bed and let him change in peace. Nyx stuck his head out of the closet, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he took in your flushed cheeks and the way you'd shoved his shoulder.

"Oh, so now you're modesty police?" he teased, his voice dripping with mock outrage. "I thought you liked the view, Y/n." His eyes twinkled with playful accusation, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He disappeared back into the closet, the rustle of fabric and the clunk of hangers on the rack filling the air. A moment later, he emerged wearing a crisp black shirt, the buttons indeed done up all the way to the top. The shirt accentuated the broad expanse of his shoulders and the lean lines of his chest. He did a little twirl, his grin widening as he caught you staring.

"There, is this better?" he asked, a smug note in his voice. "Or do you have other... sartorial advice you'd like to share?" There was a playful lilt to his tone, but also a hint of something softer, gentler. A warmth that made your heart skip a beat, even as your mind told you you were being ridiculous. You stood with an annoyed smile and walked over to him before making him lightly on the chest and walking past him into the closet.

"Well now you just look like nerd. At least unto the top two, seriously how you ever get laid is beyond me..." You say sarcastically as you grab a jacket that would match his look and the weather both.

Nyx's eyes widened in mock offense at your teasing jab, a hand flying to his chest as if wounded.

"A nerd? Me? Why, because I actually bother to cover up in polite company?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "I'll have you know, the ladies find my intellect... captivating... Among other things..." He said with a smirk as he flecks his arms making the fabric go taut. there was a playful gleam in his eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As you rummaged through his closet, pulling out a sleek leather jacket that would complement his outfit perfectly. Nyx leaned against the doorframe, watching you with an amused expression.

"But I suppose I can take your fashion advice, just this once," he said, plucking the jacket from your hands and slipping it on. The leather hugged his broad shoulders and accentuated his lean, athletic build. He struck a pose, cocking an eyebrow at you with a grin. "There. I'm practically a fashion icon now, Happy now?" There was a playful note in his voice, a teasing lilt that made your heart flutter in your chest. But there was something more too, a warmth and affection that made you feel cherished, valued...

"your a dork you know that." You say chuckling as you pass him again to go get your shoes and purse. It was Friday which mean you, Nyx, Rhys, Feyre, Azriel and Morr would go to Rita's, to have a night out. Nyx's grin only widened at your teasing jab, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Guilty as charged," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "But you love me anyway, you big softy." He winked at you, a playful smirk on his lips as he watched you gather your things. As you both made your way downstairs, Nyx slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close.

"You ready for a night out?" he asked, a note of excitement in his voice. "I hear Rita's has a few new drinks on the menu . Might be a good chance to cut loose, dance a bit, maybe with someone else for a change..." His eyebrows danced suggestively above his smirk, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

Nyx's parents and aunt and uncle were already waiting by the door, looking stunning as always. Feyre's gown was a shimmering work of art, while Rhys and Morr were equally impeccable in their formal attire. Azriel even wearing his normal black leathers seemed to look just as put together as always. They turned to greet you both, warm smiles on their faces. "Bekah, you look lovely," Feyre said, pulling you in for an air kiss on each cheek. "And you, my love look like your father, as always." she teased, a playful note in her voice.

"thanks mama." Nyx's eyes crinkled with affection as he came and kissed his mother on the cheek.

Already you could feel the anticipation building, the promise of a night filled with laughter, dancing, and maybe, just maybe, a chance to let go and be a little reckless. You could only hope that nyx would actually spend the night with you guys instead of running off for the night with the first female he smiles at. It had been so long since he had actually spent time with any of you when you weren't at the house.

once you got to Rita's, the six of your found a table and ordered dinner and drinks. This was probably the third or fourth time you'd been allowed to drink alcohol here. You didn't handle it particularly well and You didn't love it by any means but you tolerated it enough to indulge when your overly nervous.

You glanced over at Nyx, noticing he was quieter than usual. You followed his gaze to a pretty blond female all the way at the bar across the dance floor. Of course..... You'd been here 10 minutes and he already got his eyes set on someone, at least he wasn't up and leaving the table yet but you knew that could change at any second so you focused your attention on having a conversation with Rhys. Nyx wasn't a womanizer, he was kind and did think of other people's feelings. Granted if a female showed interest in him he usually wouldn't turn her down but he was never against a relationsh- why the hell are you even thinking about this! It has nothing to do with you! Gods what is wrong with you as of late, it was exhausting....

Nyx felt your gaze on him and glanced over, catching your eye. He offered you a small, distracted smile, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. The blonde at the bar had caught his attention, her laughter ringing out over the pulsing beat of the music as she joked with her friends. He downed the rest of his drink, the amber liquid burning its way down his throat, before standing abruptly.

"Be right back," he murmured, not quite meeting your eyes as he made his way towards the bar. You watched him go, a mix of exasperation and... something else, something you didn't want to acknowledge, churning in your gut. This was just like Nyx, spotting a pretty face and being drawn in like a moth to a flame. But then again, when had he ever been able to resist a challenge, a chance to charm and captivate? It was in his nature, a part of his very being, Feyre said he got that from his father. And yet, a small, traitorous part of you wished, just for once, that he might look at you the same way, with that same heated intensity... But no, you pushed that thought away, disgusted with yourself for even entertaining such a notion.

you mentally try to shake the feeling of and turn your attention back to Rhys seeing as your friend as yet again left family time to go get laid. Shit this was becoming a habit... And it was really starting to bothering you.

Rhys noticed your distraction and followed your gaze to where Nyx was now engaged in animated conversation with the blonde, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair, studying you with a thoughtful expression. "He's a grown male, sweetling," Rhys said, his voice a low rumble. "He knows what he's doing." There was a note of mild reproach in his tone, a subtle reminder that you were being a bit... overprotective. Possessive, even. But then again, Rhys had always seen the depth of your bond with his son, the unbreakable connection forged in childhood that had only grown stronger with time.

you made a face and shook your head dismissively.

"I know that. It's just... Annoying," Sure let's go with that. You thanked the Cauldron when your drinks arrived. You took a large sip of your drink in hopes of clearing your head of what ever this possessive, Jealous feeling... No, not not jealous, that would be ridiculous...

"This used to be when we all would spend time together and ever since be turned 18 he never... Nevermind, doesn't matter."

You took another sip and made absolutely sure to keep your eyes away from the bar. Rhys's eyes softened as he studied your face, a flicker of understanding in their depths. He reached out, his large hand coming to rest on your shoulder in a comforting, fatherly gesture. "Ah, y/n," he said, a note of gentle reproach in his voice. "Is that what's bothering you? That things have changed now that your both getting older?" His gaze drifted to where his son stood still engrossed in conversation with the blonde. A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he turned back to you.

"He's not a child anymore, sweetling. He has... needs and desires that he's just beginning to explore. It's natural, at his age. Lets not forget, he's a freshly adult Illyrian male, I'm not going to sit her and pretend that we aren't known for getting around. Rhys's thumb absently rubbed your shoulder, a soothing motion. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't want to spend time with you anymore. You're still his bestfriend, That will never change-"

You cut him off and shrug him his hand off of your shoulder. Rhys had always been like a second dad to you and you were always very welcome to any advice he had for you but for once you didn't want to fucking hear it. You made sure to slam your mental shields up and close the cracks snugly before your responded.

"I don't need the sex talk Rhys. I'm not a kid either ok, I just meant that it just... Aggravating that he'd rather spend his time chasing females that do actually give a fuck about him over spending time with his family. It fine he's his own person, it's just annoying...."

You you didn't try to cover the disgruntled look on your face as you down the last of your drink as signal the bartender to send you another. Rhys watched as you downed your drink and signaled for another, a hint of concern flickering across his face. He knew this was a sensitive subject for you, a raw nerve that you didn't want him to touch. But he also knew that sometimes, the things we didn't want to hear were the things we needed to hear most.

"Y/n," he said softly, his voice low and gentle. "I understand your frustration. I do. But you need to accept that people change as they grow older, and so do their priorities. Nyx will always make time for you, no matter what. But he's also entitled to his own life, his own experiences."

Rhys paused, letting his words sink in. "Spending time with a pretty female isn't a betrayal of his friendship with you. It's a part of him growing up, and I know you used to be extremely close but-"

you just stood and grabbed your bag before turning to Rhys a badly disguised pissed off expression etched into your face.

"Actually I'll see you all at home. l forgot I have to be up early tomorrow, I'm gonna head home early."

You said with a dry tone before turning and striding to the exit and leaving. It was clear that Rhys, in trying to meditate, had only pissed you off more. What he didn't see was the hurt that made you feel like screaming when you realized Nyx hadn't even noticed you'd left. You only felt the burning of Rhys and Feyre's gaze burning into your back.

Nyx was still engrossed in conversation with the blonde, oblivious to your abrupt departure. He was laughing at something she said, a hand resting casually on her hip as he leaned in close to hear her over the pulsing music. The blonde was eating it up, hanging onto his every word, her eyes shining with admiration and a hint of something more. Nyx was in his element, charming and captivating, but he was also utterly focused on his new companion, not sparing a thought for the empty chair across the room where you had been sitting. The sight made you sick, your stomach twisting painfully.

You didn't stop storming out of the building even when you hard footsteps coming after you. You finally decided to turn and for a half second your heart jumped to see a dark figure emerge from the the doors. Only to have that flutter be smashed again to see Rhys exit and not his son. Nyx really didn't even notice you left... Why the fuck did you even care anyway, the answer was getting harder and harder to deny with every passing day.

"Y/n, wait," he said, his voice low and urgent. Rhys caught up to you quickly, his longstrides eating up the distance between you. He reached out, his hand closing around your elbow, halting your furious retreat.

"I know you're upset, but please, talk to me, you know I'm always here." There was a note of concern in his tone, a hint of something else, something that made your heart skip a beat despite your anger.

Rhys guided you to a quiet spot nearby, away from the thrumming music and chatter of the bar. He studied your face, his brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and worry. "Talk to me," he coaxed softly, his thumb rubbing small circles on your elbow. "Tell me what's really bothering you. Is it... is it just about Nyx? Or is something else? Whatever it it, bottling it up isn't going to help you sweetling." His gaze was intense, searching, as if he could see right through to the tangled mess of your emotions. As if he knew that the anger masking your face was only a flimsy veil for something much deeper, much harder to name.

You close your eyes and force yourself to keep your mental shielding up as you thought of a way to respond without sounding absolutely pathetic.

"I just... I have, other things going on and I'm just... Like I said I have to be up early tomorrow, I'd just be better if I went home now..."

You avoided the question with as many lies you could muster. You HATED lying to Rhys but you felt like your heart and mind was rebelling against each other and you couldn't tell him why you were upset if you couldn't even admit it to yourself

Rhys's eyes narrowed, a flicker of skepticism crossing his handsome features. He wasn't convinced by your flimsy excuse, and he knew you well enough to see through any pretense. Leaning in closer, his voice dropped to a low, intimate murmur,

"Y/n darling, look at me." His fingers tightened gently on your elbow, a silent command. "I've known you since you were a little girl. Your the closet to a daughter I have and I can tell when something is your not telling me something, and why won't you just tell me what's wrong?" His gaze softened, a glimmer of compassion and understanding in their depths. "Please, talk to me. Let me help you, you know the last thing I'll ever do is judge you for hurting... whatever it may be. You don't have to do it alone." There was a tender note in his voice, a gentle encouragement, as if he were coaxing a skittish horse to trust him. His thumb continued its slow, soothing circles on your elbow, a silent promise of comfort and support.

Your eyes were locked on the concrete as they welled slightly and you just let yourself lean forward to hug him.

"I'm just... I don't have a right or a... A reason to be mad but I am... And I'm so fucking angry that I don't know why..."

Another lie... You knew deep down exactly why you were angry and it wasn't even with Nyx. You were mad at yourself for being a fucking coward.

Rhys wrapped his strong arms around you as you leaned into his embrace, holding you close. He made no move to pull away, allowing you the comfort of his warm, solid presence. "Shh, it's alright," he murmured, one hand coming up to stroke your hair in a soothing gesture. He he rested his cheek on top of your head gently as rocked you from side to side, the same why he would when you were a kid and scraped your knee. "Everyone has a right to their feelings, Bekah. You don't need a reason to be upset." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "Sometimes, the most difficult feelings to understand are the ones that come from within ourselves. They can be the hardest to acknowledge, to accept." His voice was low and gentle, a tender rumble in your ear. His hand continued its gentle caress, a silent reminder of his unwavering support and love.

"it's like I don't exist to him anymore..."

You whispered into his chest and just slumped to lean into him more. You had never even wanted 'that type of attention from Nyx but at the same time, for some reason, you didn't think you'd ever have to ask for it either....

Rhys's arms tightened around you as he heard the quiet admission, a flicker of realization crossing his face. He leaned back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Darling," he said softly, his eyes searching yours with a newfound understanding. "You could never be ignored, not by anyone, and certainly not by my son." His thumb brushed gently over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "I love you, sweetling. We all do." His voice dropped to a low, fervent whisper.

His gaze held yours, intense and sincere, a silent promise. "And I know Nyx loves you too, even if he's not always the most... perceptive about showing it." A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he pulled you back into his embrace, cradling you close. "Give him a chance, sweetling. Give yourself a chance to see what's right in front of both of you." His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he held you, a silent comfort and reassurance.

"He's always perceptive... That's the problem..."

Rhys stilled, a flicker of surprise and a hint of something else, something softer, crossing his features. He searched your face, a new understanding dawning in his eyes.

"You're upset because you feel invisible to him. Because you think he doesn't see you the way you've always seen him." His voice was low and gentle, a tender murmur. "But darling... that couldn't be further from the truth."

"Nyx sees you, Y/n. He's always seen you. He's just... not always the best about showing how he feels." A wry smile tugged at his lips before he brushed a tender kiss to your forehead, a silent comfort. "Be patient with him, you know he can be a bit slow sometimes." He said giving you tight squeeze if only to make you laugh.

"Right, he sees me and because he can't talk to me about it, he goes fucks anything with a pair of tits cuz that makes perfect fucking sense!"

Your anger flared faster that the heaviness that settled onto your chest once again. You pushed out of Rhys's hold before covering your face with your hands and giving Rhys a quiet apology before just turning on your heel and winnowing back to the river house.

Rhys watched you go, a mix of concern and newfound understanding etched into his handsome features. He stood there for a long moment, his brows furrowed as he processed the revelation, the pieces falling into place like a puzzle. Then, with a determined set to his jaw, he strode purposefully back into the bar, his mind made up.

Nyx was still engrossed in conversation with the blonde when Rhys approached, a look of grim determination on his face. He tapped Nyx on the shoulder, a gesture that was almost a bit too rough to be polite. Nyx turned, a look of embarrassment and mild annoyance flashing across his face before he saw who had interrupted him. Rhys leaned in close, his voice a low growl in Nyx's ear.

"A word, son?" he said, a note of command in his tone. He didn't wait for a response before turning and heading towards the entrance once again, expecting Nyx to follow. Nyx hesitated for a moment, a flicker of confusion and irritation in his eyes, before he muttered a quick apology to the blonde and followed in his father's wake.

Rhys led them to a quiet corner, away from prying ears and eyes. He turned to face Nyx, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression stern.

"Y/n left" he said without preamble, a note of accusation in his voice. "She was upset, and I think I know why." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "Son, have you ever stopped to think about what that girl means to you? Really think about it?" His gaze bored into Nyx's, a silent challenge. Nyx opened his mouth to respond

"She's my bestfr-" a look of bewilderment crossed his face, as Rhys cut him off with a sharp gesture.

"No, listen to me," he said, his voice low and intense. "She is more than just your friend, she's your bestfriend and if you were using your brain she might actually be more. She's been by your side since you were a kid, a constant in your life. And you need to seriously think about how your actions might be affecting her" He paused, letting the revelation hang in the air between them.

"So why do you think she's hurting, Nyx? Why do you think she's been so agitated recently?" His gaze searched his son's face, a silent demand for honesty. Nyx stared at his father, a look of confusion and dawning realization slowly spreading across his face. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, as if struggling to find the right words.

"I... I don't know," he said finally, a note of uncertainty in his voice. "I never really thought about it." He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture of frustration and bewilderment. "I mean, Bekah is my best friend. She always has been. It's not like she really cares, she's the once egging me on most of the time, But..." He trailed off, a flicker of emotion crossing his features as the implications of Rhys's words sank in, Rhys watched his son closely, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"But what, Nyx?" he prompted softly, a gentle encouragement. "I know damn well your smarter than this boy."

His gaze searched Nyx's face, a silent demand for honesty and introspection. He didn't get it but he was satisfied when Nyx cursed under his breath and practically sprinted out to the street before winnowing away too.

You were in your comfort pajamas with a half eaten tub of ice cream and a sappy romance book in your lap by the time Nyx opened the front door and flew up the stairs. You had stopped crying by now and had just decided to stay in one of the guest rooms for the night to just wallow in your self pity and get lost on one of the love stories Nesta had lent you... It was easier that thinking about your actual predicament... When Nyx had bust through your door. You screamed and jumped from the bed as you started at him for a minute.

"What the actual Fuck Nyx! you scared me to death! What are you even doing back her, I thought you would have found somewhere else to be tonight?"

Thank the Gods the words didn't sound as bitter as they felt as you picked up your ice cream and book from where they had fell before standing and pulling on your robe gently trying not to act as if he hadn't been the one to practically rip your heart out of your ass and feed it too you in pieces.

Nyx stood in your doorway, his chest heaving and his eyes wild. He looked.... disheveled, in a way you'd never seen him before. His hair was mussed, his shirt slightly askew, a look of barely contained turmoil etched into every line of his body. He stared at you for a long moment, his gaze roving over your pajama-clad form, taking in the ice cream, the book, the robe. Something flickered in his eyes, a heat that had nothing to do with the physical, and everything to do with the emotional turmoil that was clearly consuming him.

He took a step into the room, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. He reached out, his hands coming up to grip your shoulders, a gesture that was almost too tight to be gentle. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice rough and ragged. "I didn't mean to scare you, I just... I needed to talk to you." His thumbs rubbed small circles on your shoulder blades, a gesture that was almost unconscious, as if he couldn't help himself. He studied your face, a look of confusion and a hint of something else, something softer, in his dark eyes.

"Y/n," he said slowly, as if testing the name on his tongue. "Why did you leave? Why did you run off like that?" There was a note of accusation in his voice, a hint of frustration, but beneath it all, a current of something else. Something that made your heart skip a beat despite yourself. Like he was trying to get a specific answer from you. He leaned in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours, his breath warm on your skin.

"And don't tell me it's because you had to be up early, cuz we both know that you never get up early after you drink..." he murmured, a wry note in his voice. know there's more to it than that. His gaze searched yours, a silent demand for the truth, a silent plea for understanding.

You scoffed slightly and pulled away before turning around and started to absentmindedly tidy your nightstand. Anything to avoid this conversion...

"Rhys needs to learn to keep his big mouth shut..." You mumbled bitterly. Nyx's reached to wrap a hand around your marn trying to turn you back to him, a hint of frustration flashing in his eyes. He leaned in closer, his voice low and intense.

"No, Y/n don't make this about dad, This is about you, and me, and the fact that... I think I've been a blind idiot... for a really fuckin long time..." His gaze searched your face, a look of dawning realization and a hint of something else, something softer, in their depths. "Tell me, Tell me what's been bothering you, what's had you so upset lately." His thumb continued it's small, unconscious circles on your arm, a gesture that was almost soothing despite the tension that crackled between you.

"And don't lie to me. Not now, not about this." There was a note of command in his voice, a silent demand for honesty, but beneath it all, a current of something else. Something that made your heart race despite your best efforts to ignore it.

You let him angle your face to look back at him and swallowed hard as you looked for words. Your not used to seeing that look directed towards you and it was throwing you off. He was fishing for answers, he did this all the time. He had a hunch and he wanted you to confirm it.

"I don't know why I'm upset, probably just hormones or something..." You tried to make an offer handed joke in a last ditch effort avoid the question. "Your allowed to do what ever you want, none of my business...'

Nyx's eyes flashed with a sudden intensity, a glimmer of frustration and something else, something deeper, in their dark depths. He stepped closer, crowding into your personal space, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Stop it," he said, his voice low and rough, a hint of a growl underlying his words. "Stop trying to dodge the question, stop trying to brush this off like it's nothing." He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a gesture that was almost... intimate.

"This isn't about your damn hormones, Y/n! This is about the fact that you've been hurting, and I want you to tell me why!"

"you know why! I just... I never thought I'd have to, fight for your attention. I thought I had it... And then you turned 18 and you proved to me how wrong i was."

Nyx's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of realization and a hint of something else, something softer, in their dark depths. He stared at you for a long moment, as if seeing you for the first time, as if truly taking in the weight of your words. His grip on your hair tightened slightly, a gesture that was almost unconscious, as if he couldn't help himself. "Y/n," he said slowly, his voice rough and low. "I... I never mea-"

"just drop it Nyx! forget it, it doesn't... Just forget it."

You huffed, cutting him off and pulling away from him again. You had to get outside, to get some fresh air. You pushed past him and ran down the stairs feeling like the walls were closing in on you. Nyx be damned, your heart be damned. he didn't get it. Of course he never meant to hurt you, how could you have ever thought he did. No.. NO you were angry because you were in lov-... shit you were in love with him. The acceptance hid you harder that the cold night air as you finally made to to the backyard.

Nyx stood rooted to the spot for a moment, a look of stunned disbelief on his face as you pushed past him and raced down the stairs. Then, as if shaking off a trance, he sprinted after you, taking the steps two at a time. He burst out into the backyard just as you were wrapping your arms around yourself, your breath misting in the chilly night air.

He approached you slowly, as if approaching a wild animal that could bite at any second, his hands held out in a gesture of supplication. "Y/n," he said softly, his voice low and gentle. "Please, don't run from me." He paused, a look of newfound understanding in his eyes. "You're in love with me, that's why you've been angry." It wasn't a question, but a statement. He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours, a hint of something else, something softer, in their depths.

"yes asshole, fuck of course I..."

You kept your wrapped tightly wrapped around yourself as you tried to keep the panic from seeping into your voice. This was it, you fucked up but it wasn't fair. It was selfish and ridiculous but you wanted his attention, all of it, always! You wanted all of him to yourself! And you had no right to be angry from not getting what you wanted so much when you hadn't even tried to hint that you might have wanted him. You looked back at finally the devastation and the utter longing showing in your eyes. You wanted him, his mind his body, you wanted him so badly it hurt. You had pushed your emotions aside for so long that finally accepting them nearly sent you to the ground.

Nyx stood still, his eyes widening slightly as the realization of your confession sunk in, he hadn't honestly expected you to say it out loud. He stared at you, taking in the devastation and longing etched into every line of your face, the way your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself as if trying to hold yourself together. A myriad of emotions flickered across his face - surprise, confusion, a hint of fear, and then.... a softening, a warmth that began to glow in his dark eyes.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out, his hands coming to rest on your your waist gently. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid you might disappear if he held you too tightly. He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own. You waited for the word to come, the anger, the frustration, but none did. One second he was cupping your face in his hand and the next he was hugging you so tightly you thought your lungs would burst. And the amount of whip lash you got from him pulling back and kissing you like you were life itself.

Your eyes fell closed before your body caught up to your mind and you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. You fingers tangled into his onyx hair as you felt him nip at your lower lip. To think half an hour ago you were cursing his existence and now, if you had your way, you be cursing his name for so many other reasons...

"Nyx..."

Nyx groaned softly against your lips, his grip on your waist tightening as he felt your fingers tangle in his hair. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to tangle with yours, a silent declaration of desire and want. He pulled you flush against him, eliminating any space between your bodies, as if he wanted to consume you, to make you a part of him

He broke the kiss, only to trail his lips down the column of your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, a hint of pain mingling with pleasure, a silent promise of passion and possession. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, a plea, a silent beg for more. And more is exactly what he gave you, his hands roaming over your curves, mapping out the contours of your body as if committing them to memory.

"Nyx, I..." He paused, his breath hot against your skin, a look of fierce intensity in his eyes as he met your gaze. "I love you, baby, I love you and I need you so fucking much right now." He sealed his confession with another kiss, a fierce, passionate claiming of your mouth, a silent vow of love and devotion.

If you hand been so lost in him you might have realized how strange it was for Nyx, the boy who had a new girl every few days seemed to confess to love so quickly. You also might have noticed the burning snap inside your chest as he lifts you into his arms and walked you slowly to press you against the side of the back deck, not seeming to care that you were still outside, completely exposed to anyone that might come home early.

Nyx didn't seem to care about anything but you in that moment, his eyes blazing with a newfound intensity as he held you close. Railing of the deck, the cool wood a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. He leaned into you, his hands gripping your hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your hip bones through the thin fabric of your pajamas.

He dipped his head, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmured. He nipped at your earlobe, a gesture that sent shivers down your spine. "I want everyone to know that you're mine, that you've always been mine." His voice was low and rough, a hint of a growl underlying his words.

His words set the fire in your heart spreading to every inch of you he touched. You moaned as you felt his hand come to rest under your ass kneading the plump flesh as he pinned you between himself and the deck. The smell hit you soon enough, Nyx smelled like vanilla and cologne, and books and... Home, he smelled like home. If you hadn't already giving into him completely, that, would have been the final push. Your hands quickly raced over the front of his shirt trying to undo the buttons without pulling his mouth from your neck.

Nyx groaned softly as your hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, his own hands tightening on your hips. He helped you, his deft fingers making quick work of the buttons until the shirt fell open, revealing the expanse of his chest. You ran your hands over the hard planes and ridges, marveling at the feel of him beneath your fingertips.

He leaned back, giving you a moment to explore, a wicked grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Like what you feel, baby?" he murmured, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "You can touch me all you want, baby. I'm all yours." He punctuated his words with a roll of his hips, pressing his growing arousal against your core, a silent promise of what was to come.

Nyx's eyes darkened with desire as he watched you, a look of pure, unadulterated hunger etched into every line of his face. "Fuck, baby," he groaned, his hands sliding up your sides to cup the soft swells of your breasts after curly shoving your shirt up.

"I want to touch every inch of you, to taste every part of you, I'm gonna make you feel so fucking good, baby." His thumbs brushed over your nipples the pads of his fingers digging in a bit. A gesture that made you arch into his touch, a silent plea for more.

Nyx looked up at you as he knelt before you, his dark eyes blazing with a feral intensity that made your heart race and your skin prickle with anticipation. He slowly peeled your shorts down your legs, his fingers trailing over your skin, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. As he tugged your shorts off, he leaned in, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, the shortest bit of scruff scraping lightly against your sensitive skin. He paused, looking up at you with a wicked grin, his hands gripping your thighs.

You pulled him back into a firm kiss and he set you down only to kneel in front of you and pull your shorts from your legs. The look in his eyes almost looked as feral as you felt. You didn't know if it was nerves or something more as you felt what felt like a second heartbeat, thudding in your chest, like a phantom it made your breath race faster.

"I want to taste you, babygirl. Fuck you smell so damn good..." His voice was a low, rough growl, a hint of a promise in his words as he leaned his forehead against your abdomen, his eyes locked on your slit and he breathes in deep, taking your scent again.

"Can I, baby? Can I taste you? Please?" His gaze held yours, a silent demand for permission, a silent plea for you to give yourself over to him completely

Your head fell back at his words as you lost your words again, You reached down to run your fingers through his now unruly hair, it was the only confirmation you could muster in this state of euphoria you were stuck in before he even touched you.

Nyx took the action as a yes, a low, approving growl rumbling in his chest. his breath hot against your pussy. He looked up at you one last time, his eyes dark and filled with a hunger that made your heart race. Then, slowly, torturously, he leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, his tongue delving between your folds to taste your essence.

He groaned loudly at the first taste of you, the sound vibrating through you, making your hips jerk forward involuntarily. He gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he began to feast on you, his mouth and tongue working in tandem to bring you pleasure. He quickly picked your up and threw your thighs over his shoulders so you were resting on his face completely.

He focused on your clit, sucking and flicking the sensitive nub with a skill that left you seeing stars. Two fingers slid inside your dripping core, curling and pumping in a rhythm that had you climbing closer and closer to the edge. You let out a long throaty moan and bucked your hips a bit. Fuck he was good at that, he should be considered how many... No don't think about that right now it'll just piss you off again.

"Fuck Nyx, uuugh!"

Nyx looked up at you, a wicked grin on his face as he continued his ministrations. He could feel you starting to throb, your moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing second. He knew you were close, could feel your body tensing, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He pulled back slightly, his fingers still pumping slowly, his thumb circling your clit with a maddening pressure.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a low, encouraging rumble. "Let go, babygirl. Come for me, baby, I want you to come in my mouth." His eyes held yours, a silent demand, a silent plea for you to give yourself over to the sensation, to let go and surrender to the ecstasy that awaited you.

You sink both hands into his hair and brace your shoulders back against the deck before bucking against his face again and again, chasing your orgasm so hard you wanted to cry before you felt that coll in your stomach snap, your movements jerking to a halt with a scream. Nyx groaned as he felt your walls clench and spasm around his fingers, your scream of ecstasy ringing in his ears.

"Oh good fucking girl!" He continued to lap at your dripping core, his tongue delving deep to catch every last drop of your release as you rode out the waves of your intense orgasm.

As your movements slowed and your breathing began to even out, Nyx slowly pulled back. He looked up at you, his face glistening with your essence, a look of pure male satisfaction etched into every line of his handsome face. He leaned down capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips and tongue. He swallowed your soft moans, his hands sliding up your body to cup your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his large hands.

Nyou could barely stand and was beyond grateful when he picked you up again before climbing the few steps and laying you flat on the deck below him, bed he started pulling at the laces of his pants urgently. Nyx gazed down at you, his eyes dark and intense as he quickly worked at the laces of his pants. He could feel his cock throbbing, aching for your touch, for your heat. He needed to be inside you, needed to feel your walls wrapped around him like a velvet glove. He kicked his pants off along with his boxers, freeing his thick, hard length. It bobbed against his stomach, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. He crawled up your body, settling himself between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging against your still sensitive entrance. Nyx leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own.

"Ahh NYX Fuck!"

"I need you, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a low, urgent growl. "Fuck i need to be inside you, I'm gonna fuck you so good babygirl... Fuck look at me Fucking look at me..." He grabbed your chin and stared into your eyes as He rolled his hips, the head of his cock slipping inside your wet heat. He groaned as his head fell and his eyes rolled, letting out a silent plea for you to give him the words he so desperately needed to hear.

You lifted your shaky legs to wrap around his waist as your reached to cling to his shoulders. You hand landed firm on his chest as you tried to breath That damn second heart beat felt stronger now, and you felt like you were so warm you were gonna explode! Then you felt it, right before lined himself up with your entrance, his pulse, it matched... The burning in your chest, the need, the emotions, the pulse, you knew those signs. You didn't get a chance to think on it to hard before he thrust himself forward, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head at the delicious burn that came with the stretch.

"Nyx your- AHh! Fuck Nyx! Please your my- AHH FUUUUUCK!"

Nyx groaned loudly as he felt your tight, wet heat envelop him, your walls gripping his throbbing cock like a vice. He paused for a moment, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he fought the urge to come right then and there. "Fuck, Y/n," he panted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight, so perfect around my cock." He rolled his hips, grinding against you, letting you feel every thick, pulsing inch of him. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured,

"I love you, baby. I love you so fucking much. Mm gonna to fuck you until you can't walk, your gonna be limping for days when I'm done with you." He pulled back slightly, his gaze holding yours, a look of pure, unadulterated love and desire.. and utter hunger etched into every line of his handsome face.

Nyx could feel your walls starting to flutter around his pistoning cock, could feel your body tensing as another orgasm built inside you. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as he pounded into you with a ferocity that bordered on animalistic.

You could get the words out as he started thrusting into you hard and fast and fuck if it didn't make you want to let him take you whenever or wherever if it felt this good. Your mind was still screaming though the pleasure though, MATE, HE'S YOUR MATE' but you were too engulfed in him to scream anything other than his name as you felt yet another orgasm approaching quickly, fuck, the male was going to be the literal death of you!

"That's it, baby," he growled against your lips, his voice a low, urgent rumble. "Come for me, Y/n. Come all over my cock. Your doing so good babygirl, common! Please I'm so fucking close!" He angled his hips, hitting that special spot inside you with every deep, powerful thrust, determined to push you over the edge and into oblivion.

Nyx could feel his own release approaching rapidly, his balls tightening, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside your clutching heat. He was close, so close to filling you with his seed, to marking you as his mate in the most primal way possible. With a final, hard thrust and a hoarse shout of your name, he came, his hot, thick essence flooding your insides, painting your walls with his love and desire. As your high washed over you you felt it, a smaller distant snap, before you felt Nyx tense above you like a statue.

"You feel it... The bond..." You whispered in disbelief as you stared up at him, the world around you finally coming back into focus.

Nyx's eyes widened in shock as he felt the snap of the mate bond, a jolt of pure, primal energy coursing through his veins. He stared down at you, his gaze filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief, a look of pure wonder etched into every line of his handsome face. He nodded slowly, a small, disbelieving smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I feel it," he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet reverence. "Fuck I feel it baby." He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own as he struggled to process the magnitude of what had just happened. He lifted a shaking hand, cupping your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache, and brushed a stray tear from your skin.

"I love you, Y/n," he whispered, his voice a low, fervent murmur. "More than anything. And now... Cauldron, your mine." He sealed his vow with a soft, sweet kiss, a silent promise of a love that would last a lifetime.

"I'm so sorry baby, I didn't know. Can you forgive me?" He say looking at you through half lidded eyes, his gaze hopeful as he hovered above you still. You chuckled at him before pulling him into another kiss and gently flipping his so you were straddling his hips instead.

"I can think of a few ways for you to make it up to me..."

You both had stayed out there for at least another hour, you hadn't even accepted the bond but you felt like you were in the frenzy already. You must have passed out from utter exhaustion at some point because you woke up the next morning in Nyx's room snugged into his side as the morning light shifted through the blinds. You turned your gaze to look at Nyx, he looked so peaceful it made you so much more inclined to stay in bed forever.

"But you look so pretty when your sleeping."

"You know it's rude to stare..." Nyx mumbled without opening his eyes and you giggled slightly and leaned up to kiss his nose lovingly.

Nyx's eyes fluttered open at the feeling of your lips on his nose, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he blinked up at you. He reached up, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone with a tender, loving caress. He chuckled softly, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate through his chest.

"Pretty? I think that's supposed to be my line," he murmured, his voice still rough and gravelly with sleep. He tugged you down, capturing your mouth in a slow, deep kiss, a silent good morning greeting that made your toes curl.

As he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, a look of pure, unadulterated contentment in his dark eyes. "Good morning, baby," he whispered, a hint of a growl underlying the words. "I hope you're ready for a long morning cuz I'm not nearly done with you yet." He pulled you at straddle him and rolled his hips, a clear indication of his growing arousal, a silent promise of the pleasure that awaited you both. You moaned but quickly scooted off of him before wrapping one the sheets around you and heading for his closet.

He pulled you flush against him, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your hip, holding you tight against the hard, muscular length of his body. "Come on baby, you can't just leave me like this..." He nipped at your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point, a silent, primal promise of the pleasure. His hand grasping your and grinding his naked cock into your palm, a small growl escaping his as he did.

"As much as I would enjoy that I think i need to go make you some breakfast. Unless you don't want me to..." You say teasingly know damn well he'd want to cement the mating bond as soon as possible. Nyx watched as you scooted away from him, a look of mild disappointment flashing across his face before being replaced by a wicked, mischievous grin. He lounged back against the pillows, his hands tucked behind his head, a look of pure, satisfaction etched into every line of his smile as he watched you wrap the sheet around your luscious curves. He cocked an eyebrow at your teasing words, a low, warning growl rumbling in his chest.

"Oh, I want you to make me breakfast, Y/n," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive purr. "But can't you just stay here for a few more minutes..." He levered himself up, stalking towards you with a predatory grace, a look of pure, animalistic hunger in his dark eyes.

"you act like we will be able to keep are ands off of each other during the frenzy I think you can wait 20 minutes."

"Morning Rhys, morning Feyre."

You say chuckling as you lean up and kiss his cheek before pulling on a pair of his bants and a T-shirt and practically skipped downstairs, or as well as you could considering your legs still felt a bit numb.

"Come on, let's feed you before you eat me instead."

"you act like that would be a bad thing..." Nyx says and slaps your ass playfully and lets you leave so he can calm himself and get some pants on at least.

Once you got downstairs you saw that the coffee post was on already so you head out to the back yard deck, Nyx hot on your trail not dressed to be outside but at least he wasn't naked anymore. You stepped out to greet his parents who had breakfast out there every morning. You actively tried not to stare at the spot 5 feet away where their son had rearranged your intestines a few hours ago as you came and said hello as usual.

Nyx's parents looked up as you and Nyx stepped out onto the deck, offering you both warm smiles. Rhys, rolled his eyes as he took in Nyx's state of undress, while Feyre, his mother, simply smiled indulgently, as if this was a common occurrence. Maybe if you played it cool, they wouldn't find out that you both defiled their breakfast spot the night before.

"Good morning, Y/n," Feyre greeted, her voice warm and welcoming. "It's good to see your feeling better." She glanced at Nyx, a small dismissive smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "And good morning to you too." She said to Nyx as he came over as kissed her forehead lovingly.

"morning Mama."

"Thank you sweetling but we've eaten, we were going to let you know that we are going to have to go take a trip to wind haven, Devlon is starting to act out of line so we should be back in a couple weeks."

"I'm gonna make breakfast if you want some, I can make extra." You offered, as you usually did, trying to seem like you weren't impatient for them to leave for the day. Rhys closed his paper and set it down before standing and stretching for a minute.

Rhys said calmly after offering his hand to his wife to help her stand. You were grateful that they were going to be gone considering you were planing on consummating the bond today, it doesn't tend to stay very quiet. You gave Nyx a look turning away from Rhys and Feyre as they entered the house again before you heard Rhys call over his shoulder.

"And the house better not look anything the the way we found the deck this morning by the time we get back!"

You and Nyx stared at eachother, your faces turning red and you both groaned. Well so much for them not finding out...

~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading Lovelies, if you want to be added to the tag list just comment or dm me. Again comments are always welcome, I hope you enjoyed the story!

@romantasyreader28 @tele86 @mich0731 @6v6babycheese @jennnsthings @mulansaucey @starlightandsouls @jir67 @paleidiot @icey--stars @ohemgeewhat @littlelunatica @celestialamore @rcarbo1 @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @queenoffeysand @suppppp97

[magpiemirroring]

So, there's a "business rule" called "Fast, Good, Cheap" where it is taken as a given that you can only get 2 out of 3 of these for a product or service. (if you want something done quickly and well, it usually won't come cheap, for example) And when I was in art school awhile ago, we had our own variation on it about the traits of successful artists: "Fast, Good, Nice" and were told that you only needed to be 2 of these things to have a chance.

I am so curious now if this variation originated with Gaiman or if he was repeating what was being passed around as a common "truism" among creatives awhile back.

(I think rather than "good advice" it kinda highlights more the way various creative industries tend to work. After all, excusing or covering up the bad behavior of talented people has been going on a long, long time and we definitely had other examples of "Fast, Good, but A Total Creep" in comics years ago to point to. Even when I first heard it, it was nice to think that being Nice counted for something at all, but I thought it was a Problem that we were excusing some really terrible behavior just because someone was talented...)

That said! As an autistic creative, like, I struggle socially and can be blunt in ways that sometimes do make working on a team extra challenging! I'm sure some people do think I'm an asshole for that. But a lot of people know me as someone who is kind and thoughtful even if I don't express that the same as they do. And because I am trying not to BE an asshole, I do put in a fair amount of effort to learn how to phrase things or do things in a way that folks I am working with find to be more considerate!* (So, accordingly, while I am talented, I am not so talented that folks would overlook me being an asshole, so I would probably actually perceived as Nice and Fast! Even with the autism issues!)

BUT! There would be a world of difference between some people just not liking me because I struggle socially and, like, actually being a dick to people or abusive. Most autistic people are not socially-misunderstanding their way into sexually abusing people. Most autistic people are not using their social power (well-respected and wealthy author) to pressure people into sexual contact they don't want. Most autistic people mask their less socially acceptable traits in order to survive or feel safe, not to hide behind a veneer of being "one of the good ones."

One can be autistic and a sexual predator, but autism is not an excuse for or cause of predatory behavior. Those are just two categories of behavior that can exist in the same person and overlap in uncomfortable ways. But it's 100% an Asshole thing for an adult to hear "You hurt someone badly" and respond "It was my autism" rather than take responsibility for the harm that they did. Yeah, sometimes I hurt people's feelings because I am blunt or stated something weirdly or misunderstood something because I'm autistic, and that sucks! But I am a grown up who has learned that when you hurt someone, even unintentionally, you don't try to excuse your way out of it. You take responsibility for your actions. You try to find out what you can do to make up for what you did and/or seek to never make that mistake again.

Anyway. My point is that Gaimain's quote really has no bearing on autism. When I first heard a variation of the quote above, we did not know Gaiman was autistic. It was long enough ago that Gaiman probably did not know he was autistic. No one was thinking about social skills deficits when I first heard this "advice". This line of thought was passed around by NTs to NTs about talented and quick creators being able to get away with being major creeps. They all understood and talked openly about how this wasn't really about folks who were awkward, weird, or offputting. This was understood by everyone I knew to be about absolute assholes getting away with it because we always let “genius” get away with shit. And even if Gaiman is the one who originated this variation of "advice" then it is telling, but not like a unique signal of his badness leaking through so much as an indicator of a systemic problem that was already present in the industry and helped him get away with being awful for so long.

Broke: Neil Gaiman hinted at his secret nature by including dark things in his work

Woke: Neil Gaiman hinted at his secret nature when he gave advice on being a writer that highlighted "it's actually okay to be as awful as you want if your work is good and on time"

[heart-writesss]

it had been 2 weeks since you originally met connie. you guys had been casually texting which turned into being on the phone multiple times a day. conversations just flowed so easily between you guys. it was never a moment of awkward silence for you guys. connie loved your positive energy and hearing you ramble on about the things you love. hearing your sweet giggles over the phone weren’t enough anymore he had to see you soon.

you were at home tidying up when your music paused meaning you were getting a phone call. walking over to the phone you say it was connie calling. you smiled big before answering.

“hellllloo pretty girl.” connie cheeses when you pick up the phone. he loves seeing your smile whenever he calls you little petnames so he makes sure to do it often. he was sitting at home bored and just wanted to hear your voice. “so what are you doing?” connie asks and you begin listing all the little things you had to do around the house. water your plants, mop the kitchen, do some laundry but nothing too crazy. before you could finish he says a set of words that almost make you audibly gasp. “so do you think i could come over? y’know just to hang out.” and before you could think about it you had already said “yes.”

it was 2 hours after you and connie had spoken and 1 hour until connie was supposed to show up. from the moment you hung up the phone you’d been freaking out. connie in your home was absolutely mind boggling for you to process but you had no choice but to get ready. you took a shower with all your best smell goods and did a little shaving for extra precaution. not that you planned on doing anything crazy. this was a simple friendly hang out. right. you put on a pair of black oversized sweatpants and a white tank top. as you were refreshing your curls you heard a knock on the door involuntarily you squeal. looking in the mirror you double check your appearance and take a few deep breaths. it’s kind of embarrassing that you were so nervous about a guy coming over at your big age but it had been a while.

you and connie were sitting on your couch with the tv playing but neither of you were paying it any attention. when connie first came in it was crazy to see this tall man covered in tattoos in your pretty pink apartment. he came in and admired your decor he thought to himself how he couldn’t have imagined a more you looking home. all the little knick knacks and plushies everywhere suited your vibes so well. it was just very cozy. sitting across from you on the couch he was able to admire your features better than over the phone. the way your cheeks looked when you smiled or laughed. the way you spoken with your hands. the intense way you look at him when he’s speaking showing you’re really listening. you had connie feeling a way he had never felt before. and it was just the beginning.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you ask connie who’s been staring at you as you rambled on about your doll shelf that was by your tv. he was watching you talk with a look on his face you couldn’t decipher. “no reason.” connie responds with a smile. a few beats of silence linger in the room.

“c’mere” connie almost whispers. without protest you made your way towards him and he took over having you straddle his lap. you and him sat face to face. you were certain he could probably hear your heart pounding in your chest. despite the nerves you felt your bodies seemingly fit together perfectly as if you had been made for each other. connie’s hands roamed aimlessly across your back and over your hips somehow ending up underneath your tank top. still no one broke the silence. when connie looked as if he was going to say something you took a leap you were surprised by yourself. you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. it took connie no less than a millisecond to catch up and follow suit. your hands made their way around his neck and your hips began to against his. pulling apart to catch your breath you look at connie and get out a breathy , “hi.”

connie had officially accepted you were going to be his and you knew in your mind you wanted the same.

[loafysainz]

hey gorgeous! how are you? can i request a story where carlos is just a normal guy with an average paying 9-5 and y/n is secretly a millionaire that’s a ceo with a massive company but hides it and lives in his small house and his average lifestyle but he somehow finds out and is complete shock? if not no problems ❤️

MY RICH GF | CS 55

carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: no warn

hope you like it sender!! 🤍

There’s a saying—if you’ve ever read Fortune, the magazine that actually knows where the world’s richest hide their money:

"Not every millionaire is easy to pin down. Don’t trust any rich list you see—it barely scratches the surface." And that’s exactly how people describe The YLN Family.

Carlos had no clue. Not a single one.

Because as far as he knew, you were just a normal, stable employee at Finance Corporate—some mid-level corporate job that paid well enough but wasn’t flashy. You had a nice apartment, dressed well, never seemed to stress about money. But nothing about you screamed insane generational wealth. He never questioned it. Why would he? Not everyone in his life had to be ridiculously rich.

What he didn’t know was that your family owned the biggest car manufacturing empire in the world. That your father had spent millions making sure his family name was nowhere near any public records, that your assets were buried under layers of shell companies, trusts, and offshore accounts.

The only article that had ever mentioned your parents was some old feature in Legacy & Wealth, calling them “the ghost millionaires of the auto industry.” But that was it. No photos, no real details. Just speculation.

And Carlos? He was so far from putting the pieces together. He still thought youre just regular employee, but maybe you just saved up. He still thought it was a little weird that you never mentioned money struggles, but maybe you were just really good at managing finances.

The thought that you could buy and sell half the grid without breaking a sweat? Never even crossed his mind.

*****

Carlos had planned the night perfectly.

His company had been invited to the grand launch of your own company—some huge new venture that, apparently, was a big deal in the industry. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about going, but when he realized it was a black-tie event with free-flowing champagne, he figured he might as well make the most of it.

And since he didn’t want to go alone, he’d asked you to come with him.

"I can’t," you’d said over coffee that morning. "I have to work late."

He hadn’t pushed. You were always responsible like that—always staying late, never complaining. He even felt a little bad for you, missing out on a fancy event just to sit in an office under fluorescent lights.

Except now, standing in the middle of the ballroom, Carlos wasn’t sure whether to laugh or just be pissed.

Because there you were.

Not in an office. Not in work clothes. Not stuck behind a desk.

You were standing at the front of the room, shaking hands with executives, your name being announced like royalty. And as the words left the speaker’s lips—"Tonight, we celebrate the launch of (Company Name), a vision brought to life by none other than YFN"—Carlos finally realized.

You hadn’t been "working late."

You were hosting this.

Carlos downed the rest of his drink and walked up to you just as you stepped away from a conversation.

"You know," he said, voice laced with something sharp, "I didn’t realize 'working late' meant champagne and a whole damn ballroom."

You turned, eyes widening slightly in surprise before settling into something softer. "Carlos—"

"Guess I should’ve asked what kind of company you work for, huh?" His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Would’ve been nice to know my girlfriend isn’t just 'doing fine' but actually—what do they call you? millionaire heir?"

There was a pause. You exhaled, pressing your lips together before tilting your head slightly.

"Are you mad?"

Carlos blinked.

He wanted to say yes. Wanted to tell you how stupid he felt for never realizing. But the truth was, he wasn’t angry. He was just—stunned.

"I don’t know," he admitted. "Should I be?"

You sighed, shifting closer. "I didn’t hide it to lie to you. I just… I wanted to be normal. With you."

Carlos let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "And what, you thought I wouldn’t be able to handle it?"

You shook your head. "I thought you wouldn’t look at me the same."

Silence stretched between you. Then, finally, Carlos let out a dry chuckle, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.

"You know, I should’ve guessed something was off when you never complained about rent."

You laughed, warm and genuine, and Carlos felt the last bit of his frustration melt away. Because at the end of the day, you were still you—the person he’d fallen for. The same way he was still him. And this? This was just another thing to understand about each other.

"So," he said, smirking slightly. "Since you’re secretly rich, does this mean you’re paying for dinner next time?"

You grinned, leaning in just enough for your perfume to cloud his thoughts.

"If you’re nice to me."

Carlos exhaled a laugh, shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

And just like that, everything was right again.

[revelboo]

REVEL!!! I'm a huge fan of your blog since like a month ago and I can't stop reading over and over again all my fave stories 😭💙 I come to show you my new figure of bae, our grumpy bot, Prowl (the figure's actually pretty cool!), may I ask for some of him, please? Perhaps another part of Stand Too Close, or may be a story where the reader is cheerful and his brain goes like ???

Look at him! I’m glad you like my silly stories!

Stand Too Close Pt 14

Prowl x Reader

• It’s pathetic how excited you get about the prospect of a car ride. Cooped up in his quarters long enough that when he asks if you’d like to go for a drive, you temporarily forget that you’re angry with him still. And he’s doesn’t complain when you play with his window controls, rolling it down and leaning an arm out so you can lay your cheek on it. Letting the wind whip your hair even though it’s stinging your face and neck and not caring at all.

• You look happy. Actually smiling as the wind tousles your hair and he tries to remember if you’ve ever smiled like that for him. Even when the two of you aren’t squabbling, your expression is never so relaxed and open. And you sit up when the city comes into view. “I thought you might need human things,” he lies as he idles down a street and parks, popping open the door for you. “You’re always complaining about the things you miss.” Shifting on his shocks, he feels you slide out of his seat, losing your warmth as you stand there, one hand still on him. Waiting for you to bolt like you’ve claimed you want to so many times.

• What’s his game now? Because this must be some kind of test. That or he’s just sick of dealing with you. “And you’re deciding to trust me for once?” You don’t buy it. He doesn’t trust anyone. Certainly not you. Hand lifting from Prowl, you back up a step. He’d parked just off the busier streets, the lot is mostly deserted and quiet. If you run, he’ll just transform and catch you. Probably scoff at you for being so gullible. Is this a new form of torture? Dangling freedom right in front of you and then snatching it away?

• “I trust you.” To run and disappear among the other humans without a backwards glance. Optimus is going to be angry with him, but he can’t even bring himself to care anymore. When had your happiness started mattering to him? “I’ll be right here.” Lying has always been so easy for him, learned early on that it was necessary sometimes to convince people to do the right thing. The best thing.

• Wrapping your arms around yourself, you turn and start walking. You listen for the sound of him transforming, for his engine to rev. Waiting for him to stop you as you step onto the busy corner and people look at you, then quickly away. Know you must look like you’re homeless at this point, unkempt and messy. Heart racing, you look back to make sure he’s still there and somehow a part of you isn’t surprised to find him gone. It’s not like he’d actually cared about you, but it still hurts a lot more than you would have imagined. He’d brought you back to where he’d stolen you from and left without even a goodbye. And you just stand there, staring at where he’d been. This is what you’d wanted, so why do you feel so hollow inside?

• It’s for the best for you. To be among your own. Happy. Even if he hates it, wants to destroy something, go pick a fight. Because you’re the only good thing he’d had and even you’d hated him, hadn’t you? Constantly fighting each other, like neither of you could stand to be happy. Or maybe it was really only him. Lashing out at him because he’d made you so miserable. Maybe you’re laughing now, head thrown back and free. Desperately wants that. For you to smile, because one of you should be happy.

Previous

[sacrificiallane]

thief ― luke castellan x reader smut

cw: filth filth filth! pls, i'm kinda ashamed of posting 😭 jerking off, male masturbation, stealing of underwear, fantasizing about reader, delusions?? dark luke! i repeat, dark luke! mention of gaslighting reader in the past! kinda pathetic bf Luke

„fuck― baby…“ stifled moans were spilling over the boys lips, quick in his movement as his hand went over his length.

fap. fap. fap. the sound purely filthy, yet completely in rhythm with his quick motion. he didn’t have a lot of time, after all, it would only be a few more minutes until your sweet voice would chime through his cabin. and Luke certainly did not want to explain just what he was doing. what he has been doing…

„gods―,“ another groan, and his tense fingers tightening around the flimsy material spread so greedily over his flushed tip.

it was sinful just as it was wrong... but Luke rarely cared for such.

if you didn't want him to steal from you, then you should keep your belongings somewhere better hidden, simple as that. although, Luke is terribly good at finding things he really shouldn't...

maybe being a borderline kleptomaniac was in his blood after all, being a son of Hermes ― a god of thievery ― and all that. so Luke could push the blame onto his heritage. but, honestly, this was all simply his own doing.

your pretty boyfriend just loves that flushed look on your face, when you‘d freak about your things going missing. especially your underwear! and maybe he just loves to make you doubt. doubt that he ever bought you a pastel pink pair, doubt that ― what ? no, you didn‘t wash your lacy blue one last week, it‘s right here' ― and it‘s crusty and dirty despite you claiming to have washed it and ― baby, are you sure you‘re alright?.

he is just so good at gaslighting and it's almost embarrassing! for you, anyway, of where you tend to believe any and every lie that spills like thick honey from his mouth just to keep some control over you, and to make you believe that you really just need him for the simplest things. because you're just such a mess without him!

Luke Castellan just really loves to fuck with your brain. sometimes he loves it even more than having his fingers wrapped around your tongue, or your tongue wrapped around... other things...

„fuck, fuck, fuck.“ conjuring images of your sweet little tongue licking up and down his shaft with little to no experience because ― of course Luke had been your first, is enough to have him hiss out in pleasure. the lace part of your underwear has him become even more sensitive, and it surely helps with pretending it's your teeth bumping into the sensitive skin, as you always claim he's just too big for your mouth, making it very hard to swallow around him without nibbling just a little!

he's already drenching the fabric, making it almost translucent by how much he's leaking. he knows it's almost pathetic, having the mere thought of you, the fantasy of you, reduce him to such desperateness. and yea, maybe it's a little unfair to not introduce you to his little... fetish. but that would only make it less exciting for him!

and honestly, Luke always makes it up to you right after, even if you're completely unaware of such! he always stuffs himself right between your thighs and licks you silly, until you're too dumb to notice the quick motion of him stuffing a new pair into the back pocket of his jeans...

yes, maybe Luke will land in Tartarus for this one, but he thinks it's totally worth it!

when the boy is sure he'll spill, feeling the familiar tightness build and build, he skillfully angles himself right where your panties would normally cup your his pussy. the thought of a ― yet again ― totally confused you, makes him finally shoot ropes of watery white until he's completely soaked the piece.

his fingers cramp a little when he detaches them from his skin, making your messy underwear fall to the side, and his head fall back into the pillows. Luke is breathing heavily still, having only barely enough time to stuff the dirty fabric under his pillows, and his softening member back into his pants, before your babbling self comes marching through his door.

oh and you're so blissfully unaware of your missing lingerie sticking to the underside of his pillow, of where he'd later hide it somewhere for you to find, just to scold you about being so damn careless with your stuff 😔 thank the gods for him, because you'd just be so lost without a boyfriend like Luke !

he's so ew! i need him, pls.

[cybrasigilism]

Hi! I really loved all your works, especially This Means War. I wanted to ask if you can write the second part cause it’s sooo interesting

All Is Fair (This Means War Pt ll)

warning: typical squid game stuff (guns mention, blood and death), love triangle (?), reader replaces gyeong-su (player 256) | ooc(?), these are my interpretations of these characters, please be respectful even if my opinions differ from your own

characters: kang dae-ho (player 388), thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

[minor characters mentioned: players 456, 001, 390, 222, 124, 380 (seong gi-hun, young-il/hwang in-ho, park jung-bae, kim jun-hee, nam-gyu, se-mi]

-

A/N: you guys have asked and i shall deliver! i did my nails before writing this and lemme tell you typing an entire fic on my phone with acrylics was not easy work! i hope you guys enjoy :3

ENJOY!

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

your head was completely reeling.

you were thrown into these games completely blind. sure you were desperate and strapped for cash, but as soon as you bore witness to countless people lose their lives over a game of Red Light Green Light, you decided that no amount of money was worth such a heartless and gruesome death.

so you were counting your blessings when the time to vote rolled around, absolutely you were going to vote “X” and get the everloving fuck out of there, as you were sure everyone else would make the same choice. i mean, who in their right mind would want to stay in such a place? you figured that even if people were desperate, the stakes were just too high for anyone to handle. although your brief conversation with your new friend player 388, AKA dae-ho, seemed to lift your mood just a bit, you wanted to get the hell out of that place. you found yourself approaching him when the players gathered up to await their chance to cast their vote, you figured it couldn’t hurt to stay close to a friend, especially now.

“at least we still get our share of the prize money if we do end up leaving.” you commented, as the players before you began to disperse into the X and O sides of the room. “yeah, i guess..” dae-ho seemed distant, you noticed that he was analyzing that golden, luminous piggy bank that loomed over everyone as some sick motivator. “but even that much won’t be enough for some people’s debts.” you chuckled at the last bit of his statement, covering your mouth with your hand as you did so. “what’s the joke?” he asked, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “i mean, if you’re debt is that big, then there’s bigger problems for sure.” you giggled, met with silence from 388. you looked up at him to be met with an expression that caused a lump in your throat; realizing what you had just said. “oh my god wait, i didn’t mean-“ “it’s fine.” he interrupted, attempting to hide the shame in his voice. coincidentally, that just so happened to be the exact moment that dae-ho’s number was called, and he walked up without a word. you felt your cheeks grow warmer, but this time it wasn’t from any good feeling— you were completely embarrassed at how ignorant you had just been with your friend, and unfortunately for you, someone else had seen this whole uncomfortable interaction take place.

thanos approached you with swift succession once dae-ho had cast his vote, which you watched as your heart sank; seeing the number increase by one underneath the “O” on the scoreboard. the purple-haired rapper had been standing behind you for a prolonged period of time before he made himself known with a

tap tap tap

on your shoulder, you whipped around and felt your expression harden when you realized the culprit. “seems like homeboy is too sensitive, that’s unfortunate.” he joked, crossing his arms as he referenced dae-ho’s general direction quickly with his gaze. you rolled your eyes and scoffed. “you don’t have a clue what’s going on, it’s none of your business.” you didn’t want to give the obnoxious has-been any more attention than he was already getting, as you were given full demonstration of before. you turned away, restoring your view to the front which virtually did nothing to deter thanos, as he followed suit and adjusted his own positioning accordingly. “whatever happened, it definitely wasn’t your fault-“ you couldn’t believe how persistent this guy was, it pissed you off to the nth degree. “why do you care? it has nothing to do with you.. i don’t know why you bother inserting yourself.” you refused to even look at him, you didn’t know how or why but he was truly pissing you off at the very moment.

“shit, y’ don’t need to be on the offensive señorita.” thanos crossed his arms, eyeing every single player who voted X. you shot him a glare, where did he get off giving you a nickname like that? “don’t you dare call me that again.” you hissed through gritted teeth, poking him in the chest as you said so. this caught you and thanos completely off guard, but you weren’t surprised you were lashing out now; this place made everyone tense, clearly. you heard your number get called just then, talk about perfect timing, and you were able to leave the situation with the last word. but little did you know then, you would not be having the last laugh.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

it was back up those never ending stairs again. one thing was for certain, you were getting an insane workout through all of this. you scoured the numbers of the crowd for dae-ho’s 388, and sure enough you found him. he was more towards the front, and you shamelessly pushed past various other contestants to get to him. you wanted to set the record straight about what you had said yesterday, the moment was on constant replay in your brain during lights out and you truly just felt awful. the look of hurt on his face would forever be imprinted in the back of your mind, even if he forgave you.

“388!” you called out, catching his attention. much to your shock, he spun around rather earnestly at the sound of your voice, to be honest you were expecting him to ignore you. “oh, hey (Y/N)! i was wondering where you were.” you were taken aback at how friendly he was being with you, as if you hadn’t made a very personal jab the other night— however unintentional it may have been. “are you alright..?” you asked, not doing much to mask the unease in your voice. he cocked his head in a confused manner, laughing almost nervously. “me? i mean i’m nervous i guess but i’d say i’m alright— i’ve got a new group of allies now so that’s good!” he nodded over to the three older men walking in front of you two. you recognized one of these men, 456, as the guy who was getting everyone through the first game. “oh, well that’s good..” you felt yourself trail off, had he completely forgotten what happened between you two at the voting? dae-ho noticed the solemn expression now decorating your face. “are you alright?”

“i don’t know..” you inadvertently avoided eye contact as you all began to make your way through a series of doors. “i feel awful about yesterday.. i really don’t know why i said that.” you confessed. you could see dae-ho mentally putting the pieces together before his eyes widened, an audible gasp of realization leaving his lips. after a moment, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “oh, don’t worry about that! i know you didn’t mean anything by it—“ he laughed, patting your back. “you mean your not mad at me?” your eyes lit up in an almost cartoonish manner, earning a warm smile from your friend. “of course not! i get that this place is definitely putting everyone on edge, so people won’t really act like themselves.” you were so relieved at dae-ho’s sheer level of understanding. “so… we’re cool, then?” you ask. “yeah,” dae-ho affirms, looking down at you in the same way he did after Red Light Green Light, “we’re cool.”

things were all fine and dandy, that lump of shame had gone away from your throat, you were feeling better again— you almost completely forgot that you were all about to be subject to more sick games. the crowd of people dispersed into a giant room with rainbow-sky walls and what seemed to be two large rainbow tracks on the floor. as the voice on the intercom explained the game, and detailed the fact that teams of five were required, you and dae-ho nodded to one another as if to mentally solidify being on each other’s team. “well this works out perfectly,” one of dae-ho’s newly established friends, player 390, happily concluded. “now that dae-ho’s friend is joining us, we’ve got a team already!” you were amused to be apart of their team, as they already seemed to have such a firm bond. “and here you were, worried we wouldn’t be able to form a team fast enough.” player 001 remarked, looking to player 456 who still seemed a bit uneasy. you couldn’t blame him of course, he was probably still working through some stuff mentally after his first encounter with these games.

“if we don’t end up going first,” 456 began, catching the group’s attention. “we should watch the others closely as they play.” dae-ho nodded in agreement. “yeah! we could pick up on their strategies, to give us a better chance at winning.” you all chatted amongst yourselves, coming up with a game plan (no pun intended) for what was sure to be quite the nail biter of a game. you guys almost didn’t hear the little voice that called to your attention.

“can i please join your team?”

you all turned around and were met with a short woman with very unique hair, sporting the number 222 on her jacket. she seemed almost desperate, as if having been turned down by every other group. “sorry miss, but we already have five.” 390 explained sympathetically, but 222 was persistent. “please.” she begged again, this time bringing a hand to her belly. “i’m pregnant.” if there was anything to change the game, it was that. you guys locked eyes for a moment, before you spoke up.

“you can absolutely be apart of their team!” her eyes lit up from the defeated countenance she wore a second ago. the men looked at you stunned, dae-ho especially. “it’s alright, if there’s already five i can ask someone else-“

“i won’t hear it.” you insisted, catching 222 off guard. you could tell she didn’t want to take your place, but you would feel awful if someone in her condition was to lose their life in a place like this. “you need a strong, reliable group. i can find someone else, it’s no trouble.”

“if you’re sure..” 222 said, “thank you.” you nodded, before walking off. you looked back for a brief moment, even if you died in these games, you could hold your head up knowing that you just did the right thing. however, the look of fear and concern that dae-ho was giving you didn’t fail to break your heart. you knew he was worried but you also knew that that decision needed to be made.

you roamed the area somewhat aimlessly, starting to lose hope of claiming an empty spot in one of the teams. each player you made eye contact with gave you a disgusted look before turning their backs to you. you weren’t going to lie, every time you glanced at the clock your palms got slightly more sweaty. god were you going to be eliminated before the game even began? you’re mind began to resume reeling until

“hey, did you want to join our team?”

you spun around faster than you’d care to admit, eyes widened in desperation. a cool, punk rock looking chick donning the number 380 was standing before you, head cocked in anticipation. without a question you nodded and accepted her invite, to which she simply said “sweet, follow me.”, and that you certainly did. you wondered who your new team was, surely they were a group of standup individuals— well, as standup as one could be in an establishment like this one.

all of your hopes were entirely dashed when you saw just who was apart of your team.

thanos. man you just could not escape this guy, huh. he was surprised to see you too, though more on the pleasant side than you were. “woah, we meet again señorita.” you rolled your eyes at the nickname once again, seems like you were stuck with it now. “you know this rando?” the player dubbed 124, standing suspiciously close to thanos piped up, gesturing towards you. “that’s the one i was telling you about.” thanos explained, giving his friend a side glance. “ah, the ‘playing hard to get’ girl..” 380 cleared her throat, catching these two boys off guard. “y’know it’s rude to talk about people as if they aren’t standing right there.” you were relieved that you had someone else to stand up for you here. 124 snickered. “well if it bothers her that much she can always leave—“ “no.” thanos interjected, extending an arm infront of his buddy. “she stays.” he raised his eyebrows in a suggestive way as if you were supposed to thank him for his ‘noble’ act.

just then, the timer came to an end, and all the teams were instructed to sit down in designated lines. even if you wanted to leave, it was too late. you were stuck with thanos and his weird friend. but at least 380 seemed to have your back. as the first team was getting set up you found yourself thinking about dae-ho. you hoped their team made it through, hell you actually hoped they survived more than you thought about your own survival. you had never prayed to anything, for anything in all your life. but in that moment, you prayed as hard as you could for one thing.

“dear god, not like this.”

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

AT LAST, PART 2 IS COMPLETE!! idk if i’ll do a part 3 or not, it all depends on if you guys like it! i really hope this was up to standard, and worth the wait. i pulled out the big guns for this one but part of me is worried it doesn’t make a lick of sense 😅 regardless of my lack of writer’s confidence, i truly hope you enjoyed!

have a magnificent day/night lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @agornotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga @wonestro @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet @l5byrinth @chxrrybomb22 @deathsmellzz @bl4z3db4by @katscloudy

[racheltophos]

My plan was to not post/reblog anything until my university exam is over, but... This may be an exception.

If I had to sit 1 I wouldn't complain. I do not know much about Belgium but she looks like a sweet person. We could chit-chat some. I may talk to France and Veneziano too. I'm not sure if I could handle getting flirted but I think they would understand it.

I could sit 2 too. Turkey would enjoy spending time with one of his young people. But can I handle his noisyness? He would ask me personal questions in those 8 hours if he doesn't decide to sleep or something. He's a typical Turkish uncle after all! Aaaand he may open political topics. I'm not comfortable with talking about politics. But I think he would understand it too.

3... My heart wants it. I want to be near Switzerland. I'm that crazy anon who makes confessions about Switzerland. I could watch Switzerland for 8 hours if it was a socially acceptable and non-creepy thing. But... the nervousness... I would be anxious about "What if I do anything wrong?" I guess I can sleep or read something to spend my time? I'm not sure if I could talk with Switzerland. I really, really want to talk to Switzerland but my social abilities aren't good enough and Switzerland wouldn't be interested with talking that much. But... I'm next to him... I can hear his breathing... I can hear his voice when there is food service... Oh... I can see his face... with all details... Imagine him looking at me... oh...

4 is uncomfortable. Romano would try hard to not make a woman uncomfortable, I know. But the tension between him and Germany? 😬. Also I would be nervous around Germany. I'm a quiet person actually but what if my nose starts running and I run out of tissues? Happened once. Not a good experience.

I'm not sure about how would I feel between noisy boys in 5. I think I'm immune to inapproatite and immature jokes at some level because of my classroom. But I don't know.

6 would have more mature moments because we have Turkey and Hungary here. Comfortable. You can easily leave your seat for toilet. You're not a sandwich among 4 noisy boys.

7 is also a good choice. Belarus minds her own business. Also I can watch the clouds. But watching clouds is entertaining only in the beginning and the end. What am I talking about? A long flight passes with sleeping. Knowing from experience. Random fun fact: I read most of the Gutters (including its end) and starting of The Danish Slaughterhouse in a 11-hour flight, after a low-quality sleep.

8? Peaceful. But I do not want to block SuFin.

So my choice? 3.

[ID: "You're stuck on an 8-hour flight, take your seat.”

Seat 1: Front row aisle seat. Next to Belgium and in front of Italy. Across the aisle is Germany.

Seat 2: Third row window seat. Behind France, in front of Canada, and next to Turkey.

Seat 3: Back row aisle seat. Next to Switzerland and behind Austria. Across the aisle is Finland.

Seat 4: Front row window seat. Germany has the aisle seat and Romano has the middle. Sitting next to Romano and in front of Prussia.

Seat 5: Second row middle seat. Sitting between Denmark and Prussia, in front of America, and behind Romano.

Seat 6: Third row aisle seat. Spain has the window seat and America has the middle. Sitting next to America, behind Denmark, and in front of Hungary. Across the aisle is Turkey.

Seat 7: Fourth row window seat. Hungary has the aisle seat and Belarus has the middle. Sitting next to Belarus, behind Spain, and in front of Sweden.

Seat 8: Back row middle seat. Sitting between Finland (left) and Sweden (right). Behind Belarus. / End ID]