#because it just serves as a reminder to what she lost

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IX

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). fluff. angst. cursing, age gap, mentions of alcohol and depression. feelings of hopelessness, anxiety. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: here it goes. happy reading <3

masterlist!

January 26, 2023

Los Angeles, California

The ceiling isn’t even interesting, but it’s better than everything else right now. You’ve spent too many nights staring at the same spot above you, trying not to think, trying not to feel, but the thoughts always come creeping back. Anxiety’s a funny thing—how it picks and chooses moments to make your life its playground, especially when there’s nothing left to distract you.

You think about your depression diagnosis from a year ago. It feels like a dirty word, one that sticks to the inside of your throat whenever you try to talk about it.

Shame has a way of making you feel unworthy, like there’s a crack inside you that everyone can see. And Pedro…well, he was part of that too. Not because he’d judge you; no, you know he wouldn’t. That’s what makes it worse. He’d understand, and you know it. But it was that very understanding, that softness, that made you feel even less deserving of him. It was easier to push him away, tell yourself that he was better off without you, without your darkness looming overhead.

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid. But knowing didn’t make it any easier. For a long time, you felt like shit. The medication and therapy helped, though. You feel better now, mostly. At least enough to move through the days without the weight of the world pressing down on your chest.

On nights like this, when the city outside your window hums with life, you find yourself longing for him. Wanting him with a kind of ache that doesn’t make sense anymore. Not after a year of silence.

Okay, not complete silence.

There were the text messages, the likes, the little online interactions that served as placeholders for the real thing. But the last time you actually heard his voice was on your birthday. He called, and it was brief. Polite. He sounded tired, maybe distant. You’d called him on his birthday, too, but he didn’t pick up. A few hours later, a text: “Sorry! Really busy over here, even on my birthday. Thanks for the birthday wishes. See you soon.”

Except “See you soon” never came. It was nothing more than etiquette.

Sarah came over a few weeks later. You were sitting on your couch, mindlessly flipping through a book, when she dropped the news. “They broke up,” she’d said, leaning against the counter like it wasn’t a bomb that just exploded in your chest. “Pedro and Julia. Months ago.”

Why didn’t he tell me?

That conversation replayed in your head for days. Maybe he hadn’t told you because you weren’t that person for him anymore. The one he turned to when things went wrong. Life just went on without him in it. The strange became familiar, and here you were, on a Saturday night, staring at nothing.

You push off the sofa, grab your phone from the coffee table, and start scrolling through social media. It’s the only thing that takes the edge off, numbing the ache for a little while. But even that was a trap because almost every post you see is about him.

Pedro was everywhere, and you couldn’t escape him.

The world had caught on to how wonderful he was, and now they all wanted a piece of him. The headlines, the photos, the fan posts—everyone seemed to wonder what it would be like to love him, to touch him. The universe was taunting you with his presence, a constant reminder of what you’d had and what you’d lost. Every time you saw his face, you felt a pang of regret, sharp and unforgiving.

February 4, 2023

New York, NY

The invitation had come a week earlier, but not from him. His sister, Lux, had sent the text. “It would be nice if you came,” she’d written, and your heart had swelled in your chest.

“I’ll try,” you’d replied, though you knew as soon as you sent it that you would go. The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to New York, staring out the window, wondering what you were doing. You hadn’t seen him in person in over a year, and you didn’t even know if he wanted to see you. What if time had passed you by? What if everything between you had faded into the background, nothing more than a memory?

The night of the show arrived, and you were a wreck. A bundle of nerves, second-guessing everything. You sat in the audience, people asking for pictures here and there, and you smiled, happily obliging. But when Pedro took the stage, your heart stopped. He was nervous during the monologue, you could tell, but he quickly settled into the rhythm.

His breathing evened out, and he was so…perfect. He talked about his family, about his mother, and you felt the lump in your throat rise when he got emotional. He was always funny in the sketches, but especially when he almost broke character to laugh. You couldn’t stop watching him.

And you hoped—no, you prayed—that maybe he’d see you through the crowd.

When the show ended, people started to disperse, and there he was, surrounded by his family, by friends, all buzzing with pride and excitement. You hung back, watching as Lux tried to get everyone lined up for a photo. “Who’s gonna take it?” someone asked, and you stepped forward before you could think twice.

“I can do it,” you said, and Lux’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh my god, you came!” She rushed over, wrapping her arms around you, and you hugged her back, feeling a sudden warmth in your chest.

Nico and Pedro’s nephews followed, pulling you into their hugs as well. For a moment, it felt like old times, like maybe things hadn’t changed at all. But then Pedro turned, his gaze catching yours, and time stopped.

You stood there, staring at each other, and the world spun and stilled all at once. His eyes lit up, soft and warm, like they always had. He looked like he wanted to say something, but neither of you moved.

Five seconds. Maybe less. But it felt like forever.

You smiled, and so did he, a quiet acknowledgment passing between you. Lux handed you her phone, and you took the picture, watching them all gather together, laughing and chatting. You could feel Pedro’s eyes on you the whole time.

After the photo, he walked over, his eyes locking onto yours again.

“How…what are you…?”

“Your sister invited me,” you replied quickly.

“Of course she did,” he said, glancing back at Lux with a smile.

“Congratulations, you were incredible,” you said, the words tumbling out faster than you intended. “I’m so happy for you.”

He looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, like you were the moon and the stars. Your heart raced, and you could feel it thumping against your ribs. He smiled, a half-smile, and his voice softened. “Thank you. I think I butchered a couple of lines, but…"

“No, no,” you insisted, shaking your head. “You were perfect. It was perfect.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, his eyes doing that thing they always did when he was holding something back. But then he cleared his throat, looking flustered. “I have to go get changed and say goodbye to a few people, but come to the afterparty, okay? Oscar and Sarah will be there.”

As if you needed a reason other than him.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, trying to sound casual.

He took a step closer, his big brown eyes fixed on you. “Thank you for being here.”

You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Always.”

And then he turned and disappeared backstage.

•••

Later, at the afterparty, you felt like a ghost, drifting between conversations. You caught up with Oscar and Sarah, the comfort of their hugs bringing unexpected tears to your eyes. It felt good, to be surrounded by people who loved you unconditionally. But you couldn’t help yourself; you kept looking for Pedro. From across the room, your eyes would meet, and the significance of everything unsaid hung between you.

Twenty minutes passed like that. Stolen glances, quiet tension. Until you saw him slip outside to the rooftop, away from the crowd.

Without thinking, you followed him.

He stood there, looking out over the city, his broad back to you, the skyline of New York glowing in the distance. For a moment, you thought about turning around, about going back inside. But then you stepped forward, standing beside him.

“This city,” you started, “is so beautiful from up here. Makes you forget about all the bad things—like the rats and the traffic.”

He laughed—that booming, wheezing kind of laugh you loved so much—and you smiled.

Pedro smiled at you—that same familiar smile that hadn’t changed in all these years. His eyebrows lifted playfully, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. But as you looked closer, you saw it—he had changed, and yet the essence of him remained.

His hair was longer now, curling just at the ends in a way that made you want to reach out and touch it. His beard, fuller than before, had streaks of gray decorating his jawline and his hair. The lines around his eyes had deepened, like stories waiting to be told, crinkling when he smiled, as if life had both weathered and softened him.

He turned to look at you. “Hi again.”

“Hi."

“You look good,” he said, the compliment slipping from his lips with ease.

You chuckled softly. “Thanks, so do you, Mr. Popular.”

He clicked his tongue, amused. “What can I say?”

The rooftop was hushed, only the chatter and music from the party drifting up from where you stood. The world below a distant hum, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft glow of green and gold light from the city. The air was cool but not cold, wrapping around you both in a way that felt intimate, protective.

How Deep Is Your Love started playing, and you looked towards the party, a small smile playing on your lips. As if he could read your mind, he chuckled and said, "How fitting. What are the odds?"

For the first time in what felt like forever, you were under Pedro’s gaze—not the chaotic, feverish attention you were used to, with cameras flashing and crowds screaming your name, but something deeper. His attention had always been different. It was quiet, but focused, like a steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you without a word.

For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. The pull between you too strong, a tether stretched thin by years of disconnect but never broken. You felt it—the weight of all that had gone unsaid pressing against your chest. You had to say it. Now, before you lost the courage.

“I was debating whether or not to do this here,” you began, your voice low but steady, “today of all days, but I feel like the right time will never come for us, so I’ll just say it.”

Pedro’s eyes searched yours with anticipation, perhaps fear or hope, watching you with that unwavering focus that made your heart race.

In that moment, you realized, you didn't know where to start.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat. “I disappeared like that, and I know I hurt you. I was... I was dealing with so much, and I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t move. Some days were harder than others, and I felt so ashamed. So lost. So sad.”

The word sad hung between you, fragile yet heavy. You could see it in his face—how your words cut him deeply. His lips parted, and you saw the pain flicker in his eyes, the understanding that only he could offer.

“Baby,” he said, the word tender, rich with affection. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming yet calming all at once. His hand moved to your hair, fingers brushing it aside before resting gently on the side of your head. The touch was so familiar, so comforting, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of it wash over you.

“No,” Pedro said softly, his voice breaking just a little. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not doing more. For not being there when you needed me. I’m a fucking coward.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. “I pushed you away because I thought��� I thought you were happy with her.” Your voice cracked, but you pushed through the pain. “And before that, I pushed you away because I thought you just didn't want me. I figured it was better to let you be.”

He let out a breath, stepping even closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I got with her because I couldn’t escape you,” he confessed, the words raw and full of regret. “You were always there, in my head, in my heart. I thought if I could be with someone else, maybe… maybe I’d forget you, but I couldn’t.”

You felt the tears sting at the back of your eyes. The truth of it, the weight of his words, felt like a key turning in a lock that had long been rusted shut. You wanted to say more, to tell him everything, but before you could, Pedro’s hand slipped to your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth.

“I was afraid that you'd be the only person I ever actually wanted. And now I'm afraid that my one and only chance at happiness has passed me by.” He whispered, his voice low and intense. “And I…I think about kissing you more than I think about anything else, literally in the world. It’s my go-to thought when my mind has a minute to spare.”

You could barely breathe. The air between you felt charged, electrified by everything he was admitting, by the love you had both buried for so long. “I was so scared,” he continued, his eyes glistening. “So scared of fucking up our friendship, scared of what people might say, and scared of losing you because… I’ve never known what to do with pain, mi amor. All I’ve ever done is hide from it. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”

You reached up, covering his hand with yours.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if your touch was too much, too overwhelming. Then, slowly, he opened them again, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity it made your heart ache. “I was such an idiot,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought I could live without you, but the truth is, I’ve never been able to. Not for a single day.”

You smiled, your own tears finally spilling over. “Well, that makes two of us.”

"You're my favorite person to talk to," he said, "even when we're fighting."

There was a beat, a single breath in which the world seemed to pause, and then he kissed you. It wasn’t a tentative kiss, shy, or unsure—it was everything. Every moment, every longing look, every stolen glance over the years poured into this one, perfect moment. His lips were soft but demanding, his hands slipping into your hair as he pulled you closer. You knew people could be watching from afar, but you melted into him, because nothing else mattered right now.

When you finally pulled back, foreheads pressed together, both of you gasping for air like you'd been drowning and only just found the surface. His forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky, and in that moment, you saw it all—the vulnerability, the fear, the anger, and beneath it all, the raw, unrelenting love.

Pedro’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke, “I hate myself for waiting this long.” His hands slid down to your shoulders, gripping them with a desperation that made your heart twist. “I watched you disappear, and I told myself it wasn’t my place. But it was. It always was.”

His eyes bore into yours, deep pools of brown that always saw you, even when you didn’t want to be seen. His hands turned and pushed you slowly to the railing, and you could feel the cold biting into your back even through the thick layers of your jacket.

“I hated myself too,” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush, messy and imperfect, but true. “I thought about you every day. And I hated myself for it because I couldn’t let go. I tried, God. I tried with everything I had to move on, but it was always you. It was always you, Pedro.”

His lips trembled, and you saw the tears in his eyes—the same tears that were stinging yours. He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“We wasted so much time.”

You nodded, your own heart breaking at the realization. All the years you had spent avoiding each other, convincing yourselves it was for the best, when deep down, you knew the truth.

You had been running—both of you—from something that had always been there.

“I know,” you said softly, reaching up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against the scruff on his jaw. “But we’re here now. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. “I love you,” he said, the words a soft confession.

You smiled, face wet with tears, your heart finally free of the burden it had carried for so long.

“I know."

a/n: aaaahh finally!!! these idiots got it right it only took like 20 years lol.

an extra final chapter is coming very soon. i had so much fun writing this. i started writing this silly little fic right after a breakup because i was feeling lonely and it was the best way for me to not feel like that sooo i wanted to thank everyone who read, liked, reblogged or commented, it means the world to me that someone else enjoys something that takes so much of my time. love you all so much!!!

[apollos-boyfriend]

jordan will never be her spark and ianite will never be his ianite, but he is still her captain and she is still his lady. do you understand. they mean the world to each other but they are not each other’s world. there will never be a time where they can look at the other and not think about what they lost, but yet they cannot be separated because they’re all the other has left

[serpentandlily]

Now That We Don't Talk

Part I

Now That We Don’t Talk - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of your mate’s betrayal.

Warnings: major angst, mentions of grief and loss, mention of infidelity 

a/n: this has a happy ending, I promise! I’d also like to mention that I never usually blame the woman when a man cheats, but in this case, both parties knew of the existing relationship and bond so *death to all of them* lol jk…for now…I hope this lives up to your expectations!

────────────

“That’s it, Y/n,” Madja said, taking a step backwards as she carefully monitored you between two support beams. “Go slow.”

Your shoulders and arms were straining as you held yourself up using the two beams, slowly raising your foot to take another step forward. You groaned at the pain, feeling flustered and embarrassed that walking was taking you so much effort. 

Cassian and Nesta had turned one of the larger chambers in the House of Wind into a physical remedial room. You had sessions in here every day with Madja, Cassian almost always there with you and in times he couldn’t be, Rhys would fly up to be with you during these. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell your brother that you preferred when Rhys was here instead of him, only because he always magicked his wings away so you didn’t have to see them. Cassian’s were just a reminder of what you had lost. 

Relearning to walk has been one of the hardest parts of losing your wings.

Even now it was a struggle to simply stand. You were too used to the weight of having wings on your back and using them to balance. You felt their absence in more ways than one.

But this one was easier to deal with—the physical part. It was the mental and emotional part that still kept you up at night. The loss of freedom, having to know you’d never be able to fly again. The nightmares. The embarrassment. The shame. 

You had never been a particularly proud Illyrian, never agreeing with the way your people were raised and the culture they lived in. But still, having those wings made you a part of something bigger than yourself—a community, a tribe, a family. 

You weren’t like Rhys, not a half-breed like him. You didn’t have the pointy ears to make you fit in with the wingless High Fae. You’d always be other to them. And now you’d be other to your people as well. 

You tried to blink away the tears forming in your eyes but it didn’t matter. Your brother seemed to sense the change in your mood and rose from his chair in the corner where he had been monitoring the session.

“You’re doing great, kiddo,” Cassian said, trying to encourage you to keep trying. “One step at a time.”

“I can’t,” you choked out, your muscles straining from the effort to keep you upright. “I-I can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Cassian said, sternly. “Come on, I know you can do it.” 

“I can’t.”

You wobbled, letting out a long exhale. You had only made it halfway to the other side of the mat. Pain pierced through your still healing back, serving as another reminder of what you had lost. Your fractured hip had healed already but the bones still felt like they were being grinded together every time you moved your legs. 

“Thank you for your help today, Madja,” Cassian said, sharing a look with the older healer. “I can take it from here.”

Madja, as if also sensing the shift in the atmosphere, took her leave without argument to give you some privacy with your brother. 

“Just make sure she eats something after this. Her body needs more nourishment,” Madja said on her way out. The noise of the door shutting behind her was all it took for the hold on your emotions to completely crumble. 

You felt your legs give out as a cry escape from your throat. Cassian darted forward, catching you only just before you hit the ground. He slowly lowered you the rest of the way, going with you to hold you in a tight embrace as sobs racked your body. 

“I-I can’t do this, Cass,” you cried over and over again. “I can’t do this.”

He knew you weren’t just talking about walking.

Every intake of breath reminded you of the heavy weight of your heart in your chest. It was unbearable, all consuming. The heartache, the pain, the feeling of the mating bond still lingering in the background of it all. You wanted to rip your heart out, wanted to scream and scream but all that came out were inaudible words and sobs. 

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, petting your hair on the back of your head. “I promise you.” 

“My wings, Cass, m-my wings are gone,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Cassian cradled your head in his neck, pulling you tighter against him. His own body was tense and you knew he was holding back his own emotions, trying to be strong for you. “I know, kiddo, I know.” 

“M-my wings,” you cried. “My wings. I-I want them back, Cass. P-please, I want them back!”

“I would cut off my own wings and give them to you if I could, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, his voice filled with despair. “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t understand this feeling, would never unless he too lost his wings. You remembered when he almost had after protecting Azriel in Hybern from the blast of the Cauldron. Azriel…Just thinking of his name was making you spiral further, choking on your own sobs. 

There had once been a time when Azriel had been the one to save your wings. And now he was part of the reason why you lost them. You weren’t even sure which hurt more at this point. His betrayal or the loss of your wings. 

Both felt so violating. 

A piece of you, of your body, ripped away along with your trust and heart. Your mate sleeping with another female and coming home to you. Looking you in the eyes and keeping that secret from you each and every day. Making love to you knowing he was sharing himself with another behind your back. How were you supposed to move on? 

It didn’t help that you weren’t fully rid of Azriel. The bond was still an unwelcomed presence inside of you, still sang his name–called for him–despite the hurt he had caused you. You wanted to tear it to shreds. 

“Why?” You cried, wrapping your arms around Cassian’s neck to fall into him further. Your brother held you as tight as he could, stroking your hair, whispering words of support in your ear. “Why wasn’t I g-good enough, Cass? W-why wasn’t I enough for him? What is wrong with m-me?”

The guttural wails that came from you caused Cassian to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to keep his own tears at bay. Your chest heaved as you struggled to even breath under the crushing anguish that was consuming you. He held you as you shook, held you as your tears soaked through his shirt, held you as he restrained himself from shooting off to go find Azriel and kill him. 

“There is nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Nothing,” Cassian growled. “Azriel is a fool for losing you. He’s the fuck-up. Not you.”

“He is my mate, Cass, my mate. And he–he did this to me. Why?”

“Because he’s a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to love,” Cassian growled. 

You couldn’t even register his words over the pounding of your own wailing heart. “What did I do to deserve this?”

You felt so violated, so vulnerable, so completely and utterly shattered. The pain of your broken heart seemed to echo in the depths of your very soul. Why hadn’t you been enough for him?

Was Elain just that much better? Was she prettier, smarter, a better female? Could she give him something you couldn’t?

“You didn’t deserve this. You did nothing wrong,” Cassian murmured into your hair, kissing the top of your head. “You are so much better than them, sweetheart.” 

“B-but then why wasn’t I enough?” Your cries met their crescendo, your hands shaking as you clung onto Cassian’s shirt with tight fists. “Why wasn’t I enough, Cass? Why?” 

Your voice was hoarse, your words cracking as you spoke. But there was nothing left to say. 

Nothing left to say at all. 

You weren’t good enough for Azriel, for your own mate. You weren’t good enough to keep his attention. Not good enough to keep his love. 

You were just simply not enough. 

Cassian held you there as you cried and cried, held you as the weight of everything you lost engulfed you. Held you through the raw grief that surged like a tempest within you. Held you until you had cried yourself into a fitful sleep, only then rising to carry you back to your room. 

────────────

As soon as Mor had gotten word about what had happened, she immediately started her journey home from the continent. She had gone to you the minute she landed in Velaris, but Cassian had turned her away because he didn’t want to interrupt your sleep, something you hadn’t gotten much of since the attack.

But that was okay because she had a few things she needed to take care of. 

“Where is she!”

Mor’s shout rang through the entire house, the ground quaking underneath her as she stormed into the dining room where a very morose dinner seemed to be taking place with Rhys, Feyre, Elain and Amren at the table. Rhys shot up from his seat. “Y/n is at the House of Wind with—”

“Not her,” Mor snarled before pointing a finger at Elain, who stared at her wide-eyed. “You.” 

Before anyone could stop her, Mor launched herself forward, grabbing Elain by the hair on the back of her head and slamming her face down on the wooden table she was sitting at. Rhys cursed while Feyre jumped up from her seat, thanking the Gods that Nesta wasn’t here for this. 

Rhys grabbed Feyre by the arm, shaking his head at her. “Some things need to be fought the fae way. Let her learn.” 

Amren leaned back in her chair, not so much as flinching at the display. 

Mor kept her fist wrapped in Elain’s hair, pressing her face against the hardwood as the other girl cried out, blood dripping down her nose.

“That was for Y/n because she’s up there learning how to fucking walk again because of you,” Mor hissed before yanking Elain up by her hair until she was standing. 

Elain cried out for Feyre but her sister just pressed her lips into a thin line, Rhys’s hand still around her arm. Feyre was disappointed in her sister for what she had done but she still bristled as Rhys’s amusement at the scene traveled down their bond.

Mor decked Elain in the face, the sound audible, causing Feyre to flinch. Elain’s head whipped to the side as she dropped to the floor with a loud sob. “And that was for Cassian because he would never lay his hands on a weak, pathetic female but I will. Remember that.” 

Elain’s cries rung out in the room, blood dripping from her now broken nose and a bruise already forming on her cheek. Mor ignored her as she looked to Rhysand.

“Where is the other one?” Her voice was full of anger. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” 

“I don’t know,” Rhys sighed, finally letting go of Feyre. She rushed to Elain’s side, helping her off the floor and out of the room, giving Mor a remorseful look, feeling guilty over what her sister had caused. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“He disappeared once Y/n woke up and made it very clear she didn’t wish to see him. I have no idea where he went.”

“That fucking coward,” Mor grumbled. “Why is Elain still here? This is Y/n’s home, not hers. She shouldn’t have to be the one who leaves and you know she will if those two are still around. Cassian would leave with her too—I’m sure of it.”

“I know he would,” Rhys said, sitting back down and putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, Mor. If Elain wasn’t Feyre’s sister I would’ve had her banished in a second and Azriel…Gods, he’s my brother. I can’t believe he would do something like this. He loves Y/n. I don’t know why he would hurt her like this.” 

“Azriel has always been his worst enemy,” Mor sighed, sitting next to Rhys. “We’ve all tried to help him as much as we could but this just isn’t something we can help him with. Y/n is going to need our support. This could destroy her.” 

“It already has,” Rhys replied. “She might leave our court regardless of whether or not we send Azriel and Elain away. I wouldn’t blame her. I’ve already let her know that if she wants out, I’ll have everything set-up for her.” 

“What of the girl’s mate? The redhead,” Amren piped up, crossing her arms. “Does he know yet? You know how males are. He might call for a blood duel against Azriel.” 

“Lucien has already been informed about what happened,” Rhys spoke. “Cassian has been on a warpath and was all too eager to tell Lucien. I think part of him hoped he would duel Azriel. But Lucien wouldn’t.” 

“So what happens now?” Mor asked. 

Rhys looked at her and she took note of the heavy bags under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping. Neither had she. She was certain none of them had. Azriel had caused a giant rift in this family—one felt by them all. 

Rhys held back his tears, clearing his throat.

“I know what was to be done,” he breathed out. “But it’s going to be hard. He was…He was my brother for over five hundred years. Regardless of what he’s done, it’s going to be hard to say goodbye.” 

Mor rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know, Rhys. Nothing about this is going to be easy.”

“He cannot be trusted anymore,” Amren added. “Anyone who could cheat on their mate cannot be trusted. He might as well have spit on the Mother’s face for what he did.”

“I just want to know why. Why would he do this?” 

Mor let out a long breath. “I’m not sure you’ll ever get an answer. I think Azriel, himself, can’t even answer that question.” 

“I failed her, Mor. I knew how dangerous that mission was. I should’ve never given it to her,” the quiet cry shook Rhys’s body. 

“Azriel was supposed to be with her, Rhys,” Mor said. “It’s not your fault. He failed her. This was his doing.” 

But Rhys just shook his head, the tears finally slipping free from both of their eyes. 

“Get it out now, Mor, before you see her,” Rhys choked out. “It’s…hard to see her in the state she’s in. Prepare yourself. We have to be strong for her.” 

“I know,” Mor whispered, wiping at her tears. “I know.” 

────────────

“Hey, kiddo,” Cassian’s voice pulled you from your sleep.

You blinked awake, groaning at the pounding in your head. It took you a second to realize you were in your room. Cassian must’ve carried you here after your breakdown yesterday. 

Cassian was sitting beside you, stroking your hair. “I brought you some breakfast and someone is here to see you.”

It was only then you noticed the other person sitting at the end of your bed. 

“Mor?” Your voice was hoarse, the word barely escaping. “You’re here?”

“I came back as soon as I heard,” Mor said, leaning forward to clutch your hand in hers. “How are you doing, babygirl?” 

Mor had always felt like an older sister to you. Her friendship with your brother had made the two of you close. 

“I’m…I’m not doing good,” you replied, honestly. “I can’t…I don’t know what to do, Mor. I don’t know how to move on from here. Part of me wishes I died in that alleyway. I wish I died the minute my wings were cut off.” 

“I know,” she said, sadly. “I wish I had an answer for you but I don’t. It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to be with you every step of the way.” 

“Come on, why don’t you sit up so you can eat,” Cassian murmured, putting a hand on your back to help you up. 

“I’m not hungry,” you protested.

“You have to eat something, sweetheart,” Cass said gently. “Madja’s orders.”

But you shook your head. You didn’t have an appetite. Everything still hurt so much. 

“Just give her a second, Cass,” Mor murmured. 

Cassian frowned but nodded. He brushed some of your hair away from your face again and the soothing motion started another round of tears. 

“Hey, hey,” Cassian whispered. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Cass! How will I ever be able to show my face again?” you cried. “I will be shamed, spit on, shunned because I lost my wings—because I couldn’t fight for them. I can never return to Illyria. I won’t be able to help train with the girls anymore.” 

“Emerie told me the girls are already awaiting your return. They miss you,” Mor reassured. “Who cares about what the stupid males are going to think? Most of those females have had their freedom of flight taken from them. They would never shun you for what happened.” 

Your eyes fell on the many bouquets of flowers and get well cards on your nightstand. Cassian had been bringing them to you. Your heart ached at the sight. 

“But I failed them, Mor,” you sobbed. “I failed them. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to be a warrior and all it took was one male to completely destroy me. I’m worthless to them now. How can I teach them to fight for themselves if I cannot even do that?” 

“You are not worthless,” Cassian said, sternly. “You are more of a fighter than half of those Illyrian males. You continue to fight each day knowing you have to live with the loss of your wings. Most of the males would’ve given up already, sweetheart. You are stronger than you think.” 

“I-I’m not. I’m weak and a failure,” you cried. “I couldn’t protect my wings. Couldn’t keep my mate’s love. Couldn’t…couldn’t–”

Your sobs overtook your words, your entire body shaking. 

“Listen to me, Y/n.” Mor demanded. “You are not weak. You are not a failure. You are a million times better than the two assholes who hurt you. You will survive this. You will survive him. I promise you, Y/n, I promise you.” 

She embraced you, holding you as you broke down into gut-wrenching sobs once again. 

────────────

The air was tense to say the least. Rhys was standing behind his desk, palms pressed flat against the surface as he stared at the two people sitting in front of him. Feyre stood next to him as both a pillar of support and the High Lady. 

Azriel’s eyes were downcast. He hadn’t even looked at Elain since he had been dragged into this office by Mor—a new black eye and a bruised jaw decorating his face. Elain stared and stared at him, her eyes pleading with him to look at her but he ignored her presence. 

Azriel looked rough. He hadn’t shaved, his eyes were bloodshot, but the most surprising thing was his lack of shadows swarming him. 

“Where are you shadows?” Rhys asked. “I swear, Azriel, if you sent them after Y/n, I will bring Cassian down here to do with you as he pleases.” 

Azriel looked up, shaking his head. “They won’t sing to me anymore. Not since…Not since the accident.” 

It was true. His shadows had hissed at him, recoiled in his presence before they dissipated as if they too had felt his betrayal. They had wailed in agony at the loss of Y/n. They had always skittered away in Elain’s presence, probably the only reason they never yelled at him when he was with her…but it seems this time, they had left for good. 

Despite his curiosity, Rhys decided to drop the subject. This was not the time or place for that discussion. 

“Feyre and I have come to a decision about what must happen due to the results of your actions,” Rhys said, his voice full of authority and resignation. 

“What? But we’ve done nothing wrong!” Elain exclaimed. “I know we shouldn’t have gone behind Y/n’s back but we’re in love!”

“I don’t care,” Rhys snarled, baring his teeth. “I don’t care how much you two claim to be in love! Azriel has caused irreparable damage to his own mate—a member of my court, of my family. And you were complicit in that.” 

“Are we not your family too? Feyre is my sister!”

“And Y/n is mine,” Rhys retorted. “And Cassian’s.”

Elain crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “So we’re being punished for falling in love? It’s not our fault the Cauldron decided to make someone else our mates. It was never our choice.” 

“You’re not being punished for falling in love, if that’s even what we can call this,” Feyre spat out, staring at her sister with disappointment. “You’re being punished for how you handled a sensitive situation. You’re being punished for lying to our whole family and for causing it to be torn apart.”

“You’re not being punished at all,” Rhys snapped. “If you were, both of you would be in a cell in Hewn City and I’d let Cassian decide what your punishment would be considering Y/n would never have the heart to hurt either of you. This is simply the consequence of your own stupid actions.” 

Azriel’s head shot up at the mention of your name. “How is Y/n? Is she doing okay?” 

Feyre went to answer but Rhys shook his head at her. 

“You don’t get the privilege of knowing anything about her at this point, Azriel,” he huffed. 

Azriel stood from his chair in anger. “She is my mate, Rhys.”

“Sit down,” Rhys commanded, his voice rising for the first time since the meeting started. “Funny how now you acknowledge her as a mate but not when you had your tongue down Elain’s throat.” 

“Fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel growled, but sat, unable to fight the power of a High Lord’s order. 

“No fuck you, Azriel! I thought you were my brother! How could you do this to Y/n? To our family? Both of you should be ashamed. You are already getting off easy, don’t make me rethink my choice. Lucien has every right to storm in right now and demand a blood duel against you. And even though it’s not a practice in my court, I’d even let Y/n declare one against Elain.”

Elain’s face paled but Azriel only scoffed in indignation. “As if Feyre would ever let anyone kill one of her sisters.” 

Feyre stepped forward, glaring at the shadowsinger and Elain. “I’m done protecting her. Nesta is done protecting her. We have spent our whole lives taking care of her thinking she was just too soft for this world—too naive and innocent. But I think we’re finally seeing the real you, Elain. And it is time for you to face the consequences of your own actions, make your own way in life.” 

“So what are you going to do? Are you going to force me to live in the House of Wind like you did Nesta?”

“No,” Feyre said, stone faced before looking at Rhys. They had decided together how they would handle this situation.

“You are both hereby banished from the Night Court,” Rhys declared. “I will not tolerate Y/n having to lose her own home after she just lost her wings and we are going to do what's best for her. Lucien has made it clear that you both will not be welcomed in Day either and Helion is standing by his son’s decision. Beyond that, we cannot help you. You will pack your things and leave immediately. If you step one foot in this court after you leave, I will be notified and you will face worse repercussions.” 

“What?” Elain exclaimed. “Feyre, you can’t be serious! Look, I’ll move out of the Riverhouse. We can live in Azriel’s apartment and avoid Y/n.”

“That apartment belongs to Y/n too, you know,” Feyre snapped. “We have already made our decision. We will not be negotiating any terms.” 

“Rhys, come on,” Azriel said. “I will leave but you don’t need to banish Elain too. She did nothing wrong.”

“Elain knew you were a mated male, knew you were together with Y/n. While I agree that what you have done is worse, she still knew what she was doing wasn’t right.” 

“Where are we supposed to go?” Elain cried. “I don’t have any money. I don’t have anywhere to go, Feyre. You can’t just toss me out like this.” 

“Azriel has money,” Feyre shrugged. “I guess you’re his problem now.” 

“You know none of the other High Lord’s will want me in their courts, Rhys,” Azriel snarled. “Not after the things I’ve done for you.” 

“Should of thought of that before you betrayed our whole family.” 

“I hear the old Manor is still abandoned in the human lands,” Feyre remarked. “Since Vassa had reclaimed her territory with Jurian at her side and Lucien had moved to Day to be with his father.” 

“We can’t survive there,” Elain sobbed. “Humans hate faeries.” 

“Not my problem, Elain,” Feyre said. “You’re not my problem anymore.” 

“Azriel, do something!” Elain cried, looking at the shadowsinger. 

“What do you expect him to do?” Rhys laughed humorlessly. “He no longer has his title, his place in my court. He has no sway here. You both don’t. You will not change our minds.” 

“Nesta won’t allow this!”

“Nesta,” Feyre said, “is packing up your things as we speak.” 

Elain fell back in her chair, crying. 

“I’d say I wish you two the best, but I don’t,” Rhys said. “You have two hours to sort out whatever you have to before I expect you both to be out of my court. Two hours. Do you understand?” 

“Please,” Elain begged. “Please don’t do this, Feyre.”

But Feyre only shook her head at her sister. “There’s no going back for either of you. Say your goodbyes, sort out your affairs, but you will leave in two hours.” 

Rhys took his leave after that, giving Azriel one last look that was full of disgust, guilt, regret, sadness. One last look at his brother before striding out of that room, never to see or speak to him again. 

────────────

Mor had just left when you heard the flapping of wings approaching your balcony. Thinking it was your brother, you pushed yourself to stand and hobbled over to the balcony doors using the walls of your room for support. You opened the door, expecting to see your brother, but your heart stopped when you came face to face with Azriel. 

Your eyes narrowed and you went to slam the door, but he grabbed it before you could. 

“Please, please just hear me out,” he pleaded. “I will leave, I promise, I just…I just—please.” 

“There is nothing you can say that will make me forgive you, Azriel.”

“I know, baby–”

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

Azriel looked down at his feet. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not here to try to earn your forgiveness, Y/n. I know I fucked up beyond repair. I know I failed you, failed us. Words will never be able to convey how much I regret everything.” 

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe as your legs threatened to give out. You were debating screaming out for Cassian. 

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone that looked to be enchanted. He held it out towards you. 

“I can’t…I can’t hear the shadows anymore,” he murmured. “But I can’t just leave you without some way to contact me. In case you ever change your mind, in case there is ever a chance that we can be together again. You’ll be able to call for me with this.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“Please, just take it,” Azriel begged. “Even if you don’t want me, please. If you’re ever in danger again and need help, you can use it for that too. Just please, take it.” 

When you said nothing, didn’t so much as open your palm so he could place the stone in it, he knelt down and placed it at your feet instead. You stared at him, emotionless. You didn’t want to give him anything. He didn’t deserve your tears or your sadness. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry for the way things ended,” Azriel said. “You deserve a better mate than me. If I never…If I never get to see you again after this, I promise I will find you in the next life and the one after that. I will do right by you. I will give us another chance.”

He stared at you, pleading with you to say anything. Anything. Even if you screamed at him, beat him, cried—anything was better than this utter silence. But you didn’t. You merely looked at him like he was nothing to you. Like he was a stranger. 

“Goodbye, Azriel,” you said. “I hope you find happiness in your life. Truly.”

And then you slammed the door shut and walked away. 

And he knew then that your words would haunt him for the rest of his life because he knew he had lost the one real thing that had brought him true happiness forever.

────────────

One Year Later ~ Winter Solstice 

“Get up, you lazy cow!”

The sheets were yanked off your sleeping body, exposing you to the cold morning air. You let out a shriek, cursing at your brother and trying to grab the sheets back.

“What the hell, Cassian!”

“It’s Winter Solstice!”

“It’s also six in the morning,” you retorted, falling back down on your bed. 

“Nope, you’re not going back to sleep,” Cassian said. “It’s time to get up!” 

Before you could even respond, Cassian grabbed you by the ankle and yanked you to the end of the bed. You squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, pounding on his back as he raced out of the room.

“Cassian! Let me down, you big brute!” 

But he only laughed at you, carrying you all the way to the kitchen where Nesta was sitting at the counter with a steaming cup of tea. She didn’t so much as blink as he dropped you into the chair next to her, already used to her mate’s antics. 

“Goodmorning, Y/n,” Nesta said, pushing an already prepared cup of tea your way.

“Oh, you are an absolute goddess,” you groaned, greedily accepting the mug. You curled your ice cold fingers around it, relishing in the warmth. 

“Hey! What about me?” Cassian yelled, swinging a wash cloth over his shoulder as he started to make breakfast for the two of you. “I’m the one making you guys food!”

“You’re also the one who woke us up, dingbat,” you scoffed, causing Nesta to snort.

It wasn’t long before Cassian was sliding a plate of pancakes your way. “Eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him but accepted the food, scarfing it down. It was almost hilarious how out of the three of you it was Cassian who cooked the best. 

After breakfast, you retired to your room to get ready to go down to the River House for the real celebrations. Cassian had cryptically told you to wear pants, so you did. You had no idea why until hours later, when you were all lounging in the sitting room after lunch. 

A knock on the front door had you jumping up from your seat. “I’ll get it!” 

No one batted an eye as you raced for the door, pulling it open to see Lucien standing on the doorstep. You let out a noise of excitement, grabbing him in a hug.

“Lucien!” you exclaimed. “You’re here early!” 

A few weeks after the incident, Lucien had sent you a letter asking how you were faring and offering you support. He became a lifeline while you had dealt with the aftermath of saying goodbye to your mate and healing. You both leaned on each other during that time because you were simply the only two who understood the pain of having a mate who fell in love with another. 

“Happy Winter Solstice,” he said as you pulled away and opened the door wider so he could enter. “I’m actually here to retrieve you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Is everything ready?” 

Your brother’s voice came from behind you and you whipped your head around to stare at him. He was wearing his flying leathers now only confusing you further. 

“Yes,” Lucien nodded. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, suspiciously. 

No one else followed Cassian out. Not even Nesta. You frowned as he shook Lucien’s hand, giving him a friendly whack on the back. 

“You’ll see,” your brother said with a grin. “Lucien is going to winnow us somewhere, kiddo, to your solstice gift.”

You looked between them with narrowed eyes but accepted Lucien’s outstretched hand. His grin was the last thing you saw before you were pulled away in a flurry of wind. A second later, you appeared in the middle of a clearing. 

The tall green grass, the slightly warm breeze, the lack of snow, told you that you were in the Spring Court. You whirled to face your brother who let out a sneeze as soon as he got his bearings. 

“What are we doing here?” 

“So, you know how when Feyre was brought back she was given a drop of power from every High Lord?” Cassian asked. 

You nodded, not understanding where this was going. Your hand slipped into your pocket, around a stone that was always kept there. The one Azriel had left you. You had never used it but for some reason, had never parted with it either. At some point, you had started holding it whenever you felt nervous or fell back into the heartache you had experienced last year. 

“Well, of course she inherited part of Tamlin’s shapeshifting powers. And we thought maybe she could shapeshift others the way he does, but after numerous tries, unfortunately it seems as though the sliver of power she received only allows her to transform herself.” 

“It was not fun being the guinea pig for those test runs,” Lucien laughed. “When Feyre was unable to do it, we had to turn to someone else.” 

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me? Or my solstice gift?” 

Before either of them could respond, a noise came from the shrubbery in the distance. Tamlin’s beast form pounced out from it, striding towards you. You gasped and backed away, right into your brother’s chest. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “He’s here as a favor to Lucien.”

“And Feyre and Rhys approved this?” you whispered up to him. 

He nodded his assurance.

You let out another gasp as Tamlin shifted back into his fae form. He looked well, better than the last time you had seen him at least. He seemed to have regained some weight and gotten a haircut. You knew he was still in the process of recovering his court. You wondered what sort of strings Lucien had to pull to get him to willingly let you and Cassian come here considering his history with your rulers.

He gave you and Cassian a polite, but bland, greeting which you reciprocated.

“Are any of you going to tell me what’s going on?” 

“Tam is going to help you shapeshift,” Lucien explained. “If you will allow him.”

“Shapeshift? But why would I–”

It clicked in your head, what they were implying, why they had brought you to this large clearing. You whipped around to look up at your brother who seemed to be holding back tears. He gave you a nod, already knowing what you were asking.

“W-wings,” you choked out. “He can give me wings.” 

“It won’t last forever,” Lucien said. “But yes, he can give you wings.”

Tears started slipping down your cheeks and you lurched towards Lucien, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. You…you were going to have wings. You were going to be able to fly!

You didn’t care that it wouldn’t last forever. Just the chance to fly once more was a gift in itself.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his ear. “Thank you.” 

Lucien laughed, hugging you back before you slowly pulled away from him. You looked over your shoulder at your brother. “This was your idea?”

Cassian shook his head. “As much as I wish I could claim this, it was actually Lucien who thought of this first. I’m just here to supervise–and to offer you a flying partner if you’ll have me.” 

You smiled up at Lucien, unbelievably touched at the thoughtfulness. Lucien wiped your tears from your face, gently, before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Are you ready?”

You nodded with enthusiasm.

Lucien gestured at Tamlin to come closer.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said to him with a small bow of the head. 

“I once watched a faerie die after losing his wings,” Tamlin murmured. “Its…Its a horrific crime. One my family has a history with. I’d like this to be my first step towards making amends for their mistakes.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just gave him a grateful nod of the head. He focused intently on you and you felt his magic surround you. It felt nice, like a crisp Spring breeze. And then you felt a familiar weight on your back. You stumbled for a second, readjusting to how it used to feel having wings. But it surprisingly came back to you quite easily.  

You looked at them over your shoulder, stretching them out and flapping them a few times. They looked just like your brother’s and you realized Tamlin must’ve used him as a guide. You grinned, facing Cassian. 

“Race you towards the end of the clearing,” you shouted before taking off into the sky. 

Your brother’s laughter followed after you as he too launched into the sky. 

+++

Hours after night had fallen, you found yourself behind the River House, leaning on the railing to watch the slow moving river. Your wings had since dissipated, but you hadn’t felt this light in a long time. Being able to fly today had healed you in some way.

You had spent a lot of time thinking while you flew amongst the clouds. Thinking of who you used to be. Sometimes you missed that girl, sometimes you wished more than anything to be her again. 

But you hadn’t felt that today…

Today, you had felt like a new person. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. And perhaps in a way, you were. 

Life had never been predictable. Your whole life had been filled with tragedy and sorrow, challenges and hard work, happiness and joy, regret and insecurities. You had gone through so much, so much, but somehow, you were always able to come out on the other side.

It wasn’t easy. It involved many days of despair, awful thoughts, and soulless recovery. You had to fight to get up sometimes, had to fight just to feel something. Sometimes it seemed like you’d conquer one mountain only to be faced with another. 

If it wasn’t for your brother, you were certain you would’ve fallen back a dozen times. But he had been your pillar of strength, your rock to rest against when things got too hard. And Mor and Rhys had been there to help lift you back up. 

You had gained new friends, found a new life for yourself. Metamorphosed into a new person. 

That girl from a year ago? 

Well, you were finally going to let her die. 

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the stone Azriel had left you. You ran your thumb over its smooth surface. It didn’t hurt as much to look at it now, not like it had before. Before it had represented so many things.

The loss of love, the grief of losing your wings, the reminder that he had betrayed you. 

But now…now it just looked like a rock. 

You gripped it in your fist and tossed it into the Sidra, watching as it hit the water’s surface with a small thud before sinking down into the black water. Down and down, until it would find its way to the bottom. Perhaps then it would drift out into the sea. 

You heard the backdoor to the house open.

“Hey, Y/n, come on!” Mor shouted out to you. “We’re going to Ritas!” 

You took one last look at where the rock had disappeared in the water, letting out a long breath. 

“Goodbye,” you whispered into the cold air. “I’ll see you in our next lifetime. Maybe then you’ll deserve me.” 

With a new weight lifted off your shoulders, you turned and marched back to your new beginning. 

[nebulaafterdark]

The Iron Throne

Summary: Y/N is afraid that the Iron Throne will spurn her due to her parentage, Aegon disagrees. Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, Smut, Oral (F receiveing)

Y/N and Aegon speak freely when they are alone, about the weight of her duties and what he, as her husband, might do to help shoulder them. Lately the topic has been a simpler one, Y/N’s fear of the Iron Throne and how she dreads the day she must eventually sit it.

“What of it frightens you, sweet girl?” Aegon wonders, watching her pace at the foot of their bed.

“That it will spurn me, because I am unworthy.” Y/N admits.

Aegon hums. “You are worthy. Come, I will show you.”

“Now?” Y/N chokes out.

“Yes, my love there is no one there.” Not in the middle of the night.

She hesitates, wringing her hands. “You know what I am.”

“My wife,” Aegon reminds her, “my future Queen.”

Y/N sighs, holding out a hand. Allowing him to lead her down to the empty throne room, demanding the guards provide no one entrance until they are finished.

The throne looms, like a dark omen over the room. Though Aegon does not seem to notice, walking his wife towards it and turning her to face him.

“Gods, you are beautiful.” He remarks, brushing dark hair over her shoulders. “Made to be worshipped, made to be Queen.”

Y/N smiles, pressing a kiss to his lips, “you’re one to talk.”

Aegon rests a hand against the tiny swell of the abdomen. “That’s how we got here a fifth time, hmmm?”

“It’ll be an even six, no doubt.”

“Or seven,” Aegon’s eyes come alight with mischief. “Then of course, it’d have to be eight.”

“Why stop at eight when we could have ten?”

“You’re stalling,” Aegon wags a finger at her. “Sit down for me, nice and slow.”

Y/N stops breathing all together as she takes her place on the throne.

“Good girl,” he coos.

Y/N inhales, sharply.

“Just as I said, nothing has happened.”

“I want to get off now.”

“Not until you’re comfortable.”

“Please, Aegon.” She whines.

“I will never let anything or anyone hurt you,” Aegon leans forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I’m going to help you get over your fear of this silly chair.”

“How?” Y/N wonders.

“By feasting on your pretty cunt as you sit upon it, and each time you take to this throne, you will think of my mouth.”

She catches his face in her hands, “you cannot.”

“I must, my dearest love.” Aegon hushes her, “what kind of husband would I be if I allow you to walk around with such fear?”

Y/N swallows.

“Be good.” He affords her a reassuring smile before kneeling at her feet. Pressing a sweet kiss to the swell of her belly, the child has finally made their presence known. “Lift your hips for me.”

Y/N obeys, allowing him to slide her small clothes down to her ankles.

Her nightgown remains perfectly placed, with Aegon sliding up beneath her skirts. Applying gentle pressure to her knees until they part.

He groans, inhaling the familiar scent of her. “You are heavenly.” His tongue flicks over her cunt in practiced strokes.

His hair is hidden beneath her dress, nothing for her to cling to and the distance between them becomes too much to bear.

“I want your hand,” she chokes out.

“Yes, my Queen.” Aegon purrs, slightly muffled beneath the fabric. He slides one hand away from her trembling thigh to find hers, lacing their fingers together. “I live only to serve you.”

Her free hand curls around the arm rest, of its own volition. Her skin pristine and unscathed by the metal.

By then she’s relaxed enough that Aegon eases her legs farther apart, bending them up and over the arms of the chair. Slipping two fingers into her slick cunt.

“Aegon.”

He hums, in acknowledgement. Sometimes his sweet girl wishes to say his name just because she loves him. Because he’s pleasing her so well.

Lost in her passion, she scarcely notices the way her body is draped over the throne of swords with abandon. She is safe and loved…all she’s ever hoped to be.

Aegon redoubles his efforts, bringing her to peak. Covering his tongue and fingers with her slick, meeting her pearl with little kitten licks, until she squirms. Pushing against his head in protest, with one final kiss to her pulsing cunt, he pulls his mouth away. Curling his fingers against the spongy part of her inner walls as he stands, looming over her.

Her perfect lips agape, dark brows pulled together. “Fuck.”

“If you could see yourself now, my dearest love.” Aegon groans, “the smallfolk would line up at the foot of this throne, by the thousands for a chance to please you.”

“I only want you.”

Aegon’s eyes soften. He’s allowed one man to fuck her, so could hold her face in his hands and watch her features contort without distraction.

She took his cock well, for which Aegon praised her, though she could not find release until Aegon’s own fingers brushed her pearl. The same way he can cum for his ladies, but never as long or hard as he does for her.

Fucking is nice, something to do whilst he’s bored and craving excitement. Love making is more than that, something he only ever had the desire to do with her.

“How do you want me?”

“Inside me,” Y/N pants.

Aegon chuckles, “I meant to ask if you are comfortable? Or shall I bend you over the throne?”

“Over the throne,” she nods. “Or you could sit and I could ride your cock.”

Aegon mulls it over, “as much as I’d love you to sink down on me, I have no fear of this chair. You do, so up you go, turn around for me.” He withdraws his fingers, sucking them clean.

To his surprise she kneels, resting her cheek against the seat of the throne, with her arms folded over her head.

“I thought we might stand, my darling.”

“I cannot stand.” She whimpers, “I need your cock.”

“Needy thing.” Aegon kneels behind her, lifting her skirts once more and freeing himself from his sleep clothes. He slides into her with ease, he was made to be there. Leaning forward to place his arms beneath her, allowing her sweet face to rest against his skin rather than the cool metal swords. “I love you endlessly.”

She nods, “I love you.”

“You are worthy of this throne, you are worthy of the crown, and to rule.” Aegon feels her cunt flutter with the beginnings of her peak. “Y/N Targaryen, first of her name. Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm.”

[ashasdiary]

Five Margaritas, Five Senses

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!Reader

Synopsis: You enjoy a night out with your girlfriends. You all get enamoured with a dark haired bartender. Gojo gets jealous so naturally, he has to remind you whose you are. 

CW: drinking, alcohol, established relationship, jealous Gojo, possessive Gojo, smut — unprotected sex, drunk sex, overstimulation, creampie, dacryphilia if you squint WC: 5.9k A/N: loosely based off of my own shenanigans. still steaming from last night as I write this 😹 ENJOY <3

You were drunk. 

There was no denying it.

You’d all but downed your first three margaritas, had inhaled a strawberry daiquiri, were halfway through your fourth margarita and had every intention of getting some shots after. 

You found your body moving on its own accord to the groove of the music that was playing in the bar, hands in the air, hips swaying without a care in the world as you danced. 

Your two friends, Shoko and Utahime cheered as you danced, getting up from the booth to join you. 

Your third friend, Suki, walked into the room: a cute little secluded spot with pink fur on the walls, a disco ball shining in the corner, and plush seating, drinks in hand. 

“Guys! There was a bartender that just started his shift, he was soooo handsome!” She tries to set down the two cocktails carefully on the table but a little spills from the sides. “Go and get more drinks and you’ll see him!” 

Suki’s insistence for you all to see this handsome bartender doesn’t so much faze you because there are handsome bartenders everywhere. Utahime’s interest however is piqued slightly so she dances away from the group with a laugh to Suki, “Let me get another cocktail and see some eye candy.”

Suki draws her away for couple of minutes as you and Shoko keep dancing and giggling together. Utahime comes back to the room with her drink, squealing in excitement to you and Shoko, “You have to see him! He was so freaking pretty!” 

Utahime is quite the character so her reaction was not out of the ordinary. Shoko twirls you under your joined arms and grins, “I’ll go get some shots for us.”

Shoko sashays away to the bar, leaving you to finish your fourth margarita. You set down the empty glass and you giggle, twirling around, the music taking control of your body. 

“Is Gojo picking you up later?” Suki asks as she slings her arms around your neck, swaying with you.

“Mhm…he said he’d come at 11 so we can get an early night,” you smile at the mention of your boyfriend, the blush on your cheeks deepening a little. 

“You lovebirds…make me sick,” Suki laughs and she pinches your cheek. 

Shoko comes back to the room, wide eyed, a tray of shots in hand as she calls your name, “They weren’t lying. That bartender is fucking beautiful.”

“My goodness, you three, relax! There’s beautiful people everywhere!” You spin on your heel and stumble a little, Utahime catching you. 

“I do want another drink though. So I will be back shortly,” you nod, earning a couple of snickers from them. 

You stroll over to the bar and lean over it, waiting to be served. There was a man with his hair gathered up in a little man bun, crouched down tending to the fridge on the other side, so his back was to you. He stands and straightens up and turns towards you and stops when he sees you. “Hi,” he greets you, voice velvet smooth and brown eyes twinkling, “what can I get for you?”

You just blink at him for a moment. The alcohol already in your system was slowing things down considerably but you were in awe of just how beautiful this man was. How the strand of hair that he had loose was framing his face perfectly. You don’t usually get shy, either, but words were lost on you for a second. “Hi…” you manage to smile, “can I get a vodka lemonade please?” 

“Playin’ it safe, huh,” he chuckles, rolling up his sleeves and in the low light of the bar your eyes fall to the dark ink adorned on his skin. It was so intricate and detailed, nothing like you’d ever seen before. You watch him move around the bar and start to make your drink in the mixer bottle so effortlessly, and you suddenly come to yourself and realise that you’d been holding your breath this entire time. 

“Can’t go wrong with a vodka lemonade,” you breathe out, and his gaze locks with yours, a smirk on his pretty lips. That’s when you realise you’d taken your sweet time in responding and you blush as you fumble to occupy your hands with something, settling on the chain of your belt. 

“I saw your friend over there get some shots. Have you ever tried a baby guinness?” He decorates your vodka lemonade with a small sprig of mint on top and gently pushes it toward you, leaning on the bar and coming closer to you. 

“I can’t say that I have,” you answer, and you clear your throat, your hand absentmindedly coming to play with the straw in your drink. 

“I’ll make you one to try. On me,” he gives you a grin and holds your gaze longer than he should have before he looks away to find the bottles of Irish cream and coffee liqueur.

Placing a shot glass in front of you, he is mesmerising as he makes the drink carefully so that the Irish cream doesn’t sink into the liqueur. He gestures to the smaller glass and gives you a playful smile. 

“Have a try. I bet you’ll like it.” 

His voice…oh, his voice. It’s so smooth and so deep that it rumbles through his chest, the tone of it something sublime. It’s a voice that you could fall asleep to from how soothing it was. 

You take the shot glass between your fingers and hold it up, “Salud,” and he lets out a chuckle right before you knock it back. You were expecting a burn, because it’s a shot after all, but were surprisingly greeted with the soft touch of what genuinely tasted like chocolate.

“Oh my god, that was divine,” you tell him excitedly, “can I get 4 more?”

He grins at you, “I told you you’d enjoy it. But sure. We do table service. You go enjoy your vodka lemonade and I’ll bring 4 more to your table in a minute.”

“Thank you…” you gaze at him, unable to look away, “sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

“I’m Geto,” he gives you a friendly smile and holds your gaze and it continues on until you get bashful and look down at your hands. 

“Thank you, Geto. I’ll see you in a minute,” you grab your vodka lemonade and shuffle away from the bar as fast as your legs would allow, not looking back because you know in your drunken state you’re extra playful and extra daring. 

The three girls were talking and giggling and sipping on their drinks when you came in and they all turn to you as you sit down among them. “I hate to admit that you were all right,” you take a quick sip of your drink, “he was unbelievable. None of you even saw his tattoos! And I really don’t know why, but I asked for his name, too.”

“He has tattoos—?”

“His name—?!”

“What w—?”

“And,” you interrupt the chiming of your friends, “he gave me this delicious chocolate tasting shot, for free.”

That admissions sends them into a frenzy, Utahime grabbing at your thigh, Suki falling back onto the sofa, and Shoko spluttering on her drink. Granted, their reactions were exaggerated what with the state of drunkenness you were all in. 

“And when I walk in all that I wanna hear…is you say daddy’s home…home for me,” you all hear the familiar voice of Gojo singing as he strolls into the pink room and he snorts at just how pink it is.

“Look who it is,” Shoko giggles and you smile widely when you see him. 

He walks on over, giving Suki, Utahime, and Shoko brief hugs in greeting before he reaches you, bright blue eyes twinkling. “Hi, baby. I missed ya.”

“Hi, my love, I missed you as well,” you give him a drunk smile and make grabby hands to him and he chuckles, plopping himself next to you and pulls your legs over his lap while leaning in to give you a kiss. You drape your arms around his neck and settle against him comfortably. 

“Havin’ fun, hm?” He asks. 

“Oh, you don’t even know,” Suki answers him before you can, and all three girls laugh. 

You sip on your drink until you hear the air being sucked from the straw, signalling its emptiness. Gojo gently takes the empty glass from you and places it down on the table. 

“I’m glad that you’ve been enjoying yourselves. I’ve gotta get all of you home soon, don’t I?” He says and Shoko and Utahime groan. 

“Absolutely not. I got us more shots!” You tell him and he raises a brow, gaze falling onto the empty shot glasses on the table. “Those were…Shoko, were they yours? Yeah, she got some jolly rancher shots before but the ones I got are so delicious, literally like chocol—“

“Knock knock,” you all hear that captivatingly deep voice from the doorway of the room and you all look up to see Geto, tray of shots in hand. Everyone falls quiet as he waltzes in, placing the baby guinness shots down and collecting the empty glasses. From the girls’ silence, you know that they’re all just drinking him in, admiring his tattoos and his full frame. “You have your beautiful friend here to thank for these,” he nods towards you and you blink at him, cheeks blushing crimson red when he winks at you and throws you a smile. “Enjoy your night,” his gazes trails over all five of you in the room before he leaves. 

The girls stay silent as they watch the dark haired man exit the room and turn to look at you, then at Gojo.

“Uh oh,” Suki breaks the silence when she notes that Gojo isn’t smiling anymore. “Gojo, you good?”

He’s quiet for a moment, completely still as he replays what just happened in front of him and then looks to you. “I’m actually shocked at the audacity of that man to flirt with her seeing the way that she’s draped over me like this,” he says and your fingers play with the soft hair at the back of his head. 

“It happens, dude, relax,” Shoko says and she gets up and hands around the shots, skipping Gojo as he is the dedicated carer for the evening. 

“Geto’s very nice, he wasn’t flirting,” you find yourself saying matter of factly through your drunken state, and this makes Gojo’s brows furrow together. 

“You’re on a first name basis already?” He lets out a dry laugh. 

“He just gave me his name before, that’s all,” you shrug and the girls all hold up their shot glasses, and you follow suit. 

“To being smart and sexy!” Shoko says and you all repeat it before downing the shots. 

“That was quite a pleasant shot actually, everyone say thank you,” Utahime comments and stands up to dance again. Shoko and Suki follow suit, all three enjoying the rhythm as they dance. 

“My smart and sexy girlfriend has been quite the minx tonight, then,” Gojo’s lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he caresses your jaw and kisses your temple. 

“I had…” you start giggling uncontrollably, head falling back as you hold onto his neck, “I had like five margaritas. Have you heard that song?” You ask Gojo but Suki is quick to respond. 

“Give me one margarita, imma open my legs!” She sings and drops into a squat, opening her legs. 

“Give me two margaritas, imma give you some head,” Shoko sings.

“Give me three margaritas, imma put it in my puss—“ you add and laugh as Gojo pushes his finger over your lips to quieten you and the girls all giggle, holding onto each other so they don’t fall over. 

“Give me four margaritas, imma put it in my tush!” Utahime is quick to add, and all four of you sing the next line in unison as Gojo sits and watches, shaking his head as he tries not to laugh.

“GIVE ME FIVE MARGARITAS, IMMA HAVE SOME FUN!” All of you burst out in uncontrollable laughter, tears in your eyes. 

“Alright, gang, I think you have all had plenty of fun tonight and you should all get home and recharge your batteries,” Gojo announces and is met with a chorus of ‘aw’s. “C’mon now. Get your things, ladies, we don’t want to leave anything behind.”

You stay wrapped around him for a moment, breathing him in, kissing his neck, playing with his hands, “I was really enjoying myself tonight so I’m sad we’re going home but I also love when you get all…authoritative,” you tell him and he smirks down at you. 

“I know you do,” he tells you quietly and you bite your lip as you gaze at each other. He steals a quick kiss before you get up and grab your coat and bag from the corner, overwhelmed all of a sudden by the urge to pee. 

“Oh, god, I need to pee. I’ll be right back,” you walk — not in a straight line — out of the room and towards the restrooms which thankfully weren’t far. It’s a unisex bathroom with the toilets in individual spaces. You lock the door once you get in and shove down your tights and underwear, holding up your skirt as you feel the relief of an empty bladder. You sigh and then smile to yourself, reading the scribbles on the walls. There’s always some clarity gained upon reading the writing on the walls of a bar toilet while drunk. 

Once you’re finished, you fix your clothes and go to head out but come out of the toilet and crash into a large, firm chest. “Oh!” 

The large, firm chest of the dark haired man. Geto. 

“Careful, there, shortcake,” that silky smooth voice….his gentle hands holding your upper arms to keep you steady…the soft twinkle of his brown eyes. Jesus, he’s mesmerising. He lets go of your arms as you blink at him, again. Shortcake? 

“Sorry about that,” you say quickly. 

“You’re fine,” he reassures you. “I’ll see you later.“

He turns and disappears around the corner. See you later? You go and wash your hands and try to think. Why would he see you later? Was he flirting? 

You dry your hands with the paper towel and check yourself in the mirror before you exit, making your way back to the pink room, but it was empty. The heck? Where had they all gone? You look around for them, but can’t find them in your vicinity. You walk around the bar slowly, scanning through the crowd of people, unsuccessfully. You huff to yourself. They can’t have just left you, especially not Gojo. 

You stand in the middle of the bar, trying to find a familiar face, until you do, but it’s not the familiar face you were hoping for. “Geto!” You call out to him as he’s walking back to the bar. 

“Hi again, shortcake,” he smiles softly, “saw you sooner than I thought. You okay?”

You swallow upon hearing the use of that nickname he’d chosen for you. It made sense. He was tall. You were not. “I…yeah, I’m okay. Did you see where my friends went, by any chance?”

“Yeah. Come with me,” he nods his head to the side and holds out his hand for you, which you don’t think too much about taking because in a crowd of people, it’s easy to get lost. 

When your hand slips into his, it’s warm and gentle, and he envelopes your hand as he leads you to the bar. You feel a flush on your cheeks at the touch. 

On your approach to the bar, you see your boyfriend’s white hair peeking out in the crowd. They were at the bar, paying off the tab. Of course. Geto leads you to the group and taps Gojo on the shoulder to inform him of your arrival. 

“Make sure this beautiful lady doesn’t get lost again,” Geto tells him, and Gojo eyes how he’s holding your hand. 

“Thanks,” Gojo replies curtly, staring daggers at the other man. Geto releases your hand and heads back behind the bar. The girls are all wide eyed trying to stifle their giggles. 

“Baby, we told you we were going to come pay off the tab. How’d you get lost?” Gojo asks you, arm snaking around your waist to pull you against him. 

“I didn’t hear you guys say that,” you whine and rest your forehead against his chest. He kisses the crown of your head. 

“It’s okay. Tab’s paid now. Let’s go home,” he squeezes you gently as he gathers your friends. 

“Good night, Geto!” Suki waves enthusiastically at the bartender and blows him a kiss. 

“Suki!” Shoko hisses, pulling Suki’s arm down. 

The sound of Geto’s laugh reaches your ears, “Good night, ladies. Hope you had a great evening.”

You find yourself smiling over at Geto before Gojo moves to block your view with a deadpan look, “Home time.”

“We’re just saying bye,” Utahime sighs dreamily. 

It takes some effort but finally, all 5 of you are buckled in Gojo’s fancy car, with you curled up in the front. He begins the drive to Suki’s place which is closest, and when he drops her off, he goes up with her to make sure she gets in safely. 

You love how thoughtful he is, taking his time to ensure their wellbeing with each stop. Utahime was next, and then Shoko, and then…there were two. 

You laze in the seat, fumbling with the buttons and making the seat lie back, trying to get your mind off of the urge to pee. 

“I need to pee again,” you tell him and he reaches over and caresses your knee. 

“We’re almost home, sweetheart,” he says, putting his foot down on the accelerator a little more. 

“Hm…my pretty man,” you gaze at him, enjoying the view of his side profile, soft white hair framing it. He glances over with an enthused expression and before he can reply, you reach over to cup his jaw. “So pretty it hurts.”

“No need to flatter me, sweetness. Not when you’re as beautiful as you are. I can’t wait to see what our kids will look like,” he says the last sentence more to himself, but you hear it, and it makes your heart skip a beat as he turns his head to kiss your palm. And for some reason, that same sentence makes your pussy awaken from its slumber. 

You stay quiet, letting him take your hand in his, fingers interlacing with yours. Your mind races for a minute, thinking of everything Gojo has done this evening. For a moment, the acknowledgement of each action — picking you up, protecting you and your friends, taking care of you and your friends, paying the tab, driving your friends home and making sure they get in safely — leads to gratitude of having such a thoughtful, considerate, perfect man being yours. But that gratitude quickly transforms and only adds to your growing arousal. You almost forgot how horny you get when you’re drunk. 

It’s not long before he’s pulling into the garage and parking the car, cutting the engine. The single act of him turning the steering wheel with his palm makes your pussy purr and you try to ignore the wetness that’s accumulating at your core. He gets out and walks around, opening the door and scooping you up into his arms. You let out a little squeal in happiness as he carries you all the way and inside your shared abode, a nice penthouse with the most breathtaking views of Tokyo. 

Once inside, he toes off his shoes, gently pulling off yours and letting them fall with small thuds on the floor by the door. He carries you still and sets you down in the bathroom, where you keep your arms around his neck and smoothly pull him into a kiss. 

When you break apart, he makes sure that you’re steady since alcohol is still surging through your bloodstream. “Pee. Wash up. And I’ll get you some water and your pajamas.”

He washes his hands quickly and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You try to go about your night routine as best as your drunk and horny brain would allow you to. 

Gojo had every intention of taking care of you this evening, he really, truly did. He wanted to tend to you, cuddle you, love on you, and make sure you were hangover free tomorrow morning. But there was something inside him that he simply could not ignore. The fiery flames of jealousy were ignited within him. Hand in hand with his possessiveness, oh, it was a lethal combination on his hands. 

He did as he promised, getting you a glass of water, some painkillers, and your pajamas, setting them neatly on the night stand and the bed, respectively. He slips out of his outside clothes as he waits for you, pulling on a cotton t-shirt and foregoing any pants. 

You emerge from the bathroom, having haphazardly pulled your hair up and put it in place with a claw clip, and stripped down to your underwear. “My tummy hurts a little.”

“You didn’t eat anything yet, sweetheart. You want me to get you some food? I can make you a sandwich,” he offers, moving around the bed to get you the water and painkillers, handing it to you. You take them and drink the water to wash them down, still a little dazed, but the more you look at him, the more you want to pounce on him. 

“M’not hungry,” you tell him and he circles his arm around your waist loosely. 

“Maybe not now, but you will be in…” he turns and looks at the clock on the wall, and turns back to you, “half an hour.”

“That’s specific,” you laugh a little. Your arms slip up around his neck, finding their place there. “Are you in my stomach keeping watch of how much food is in there?”

“I can be in your guts if you want me to be,” he smirks, and you snort at this. “You should know I’m setting myself a time limit,” he nods in all seriousness. 

“For?” Your inquiry lit the fuse in him. 

You dared to ask?

His eyes flash with mischief as he gazes at you, his hold on you tightening, pulling your hips flush against his. 

“To remind you whose you are,” his voice is low and gravelly as he speaks, lips ghosting by yours.

Your brain takes a moment to register. Fuck. Oh, fuck. Of course he’d gotten jealous of that bartender. Of course he had. You should have sooner realised this but in your hazy mind, it had slipped. 

“Satoru…” you press yourself against him, showing that you’re eager for him, wanting him, needing him. He knows, of course, he knows how you can get disgustingly horny when you’re drunk, so he’d perfectly orchestrated the last hour with that in mind. 

“My beautiful girl…” he brings a hand up to cup your face, thumb caressing the apple of your cheek as he gazes into your eyes so intensely you feel like he’s seeing the depths of your soul. “You are. You’re my beautiful girl,” he murmurs, thumb swiping over your bottom lip. 

“Satoru…I know I’m yours,” you whine softly, giving into your carnal desires, “please…I need you right now.”

He fucking loves when he has you begging for him like this. 

“Aw, my sweet girl needs me, huh,” he hums, bringing his lips to yours. You eagerly press your tongue against the seam of his lips and he instantly parts them to tangle his tongue with yours in a filthy kiss. 

Taste.

He debates on edging you, making you beg for it, but he decides that the best method right now is to consume all of your senses to the point of overwhelm. He wants you to cry. 

He walks you the half a metre over to the bed and breaks the kiss to pick you up and place you by the pillows. 

He kneels in front of you and pulls off his shirt in one movement, something which makes you stupidly excited. 

Sharing another dirty kiss, your lips are locked and he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and pull it away. At the same time, you push off your underwear and toss it to the side. 

“Show me how wet you are,” he requests, warm hand rubbing the outside of your knee as he sits back a little. You part your legs for him and bring your hand to your centre, drawing your fingers up and down through your folds, spreading the wetness around easily. God, he loved your pretty pussy. He loved her even more when she was dripping wet like she was now. He groans at the sight, his cock throbbing. He has to free himself from the confines so he quickly and deftly gets his boxers off, kicking them to the side. 

“She’s cryin’ for me,” he purrs, smirking a little, “Who got you this wet, baby?” He brings his fingers to your folds and teases them alongside your own. You shudder when he circles your sensitive clit. 

Touch. 

“Y-you, Satoru, only you.” 

“That’s right, sweetness. Tell me again,” he hums. 

“Only you can get me this wet,” you sigh, and you go to circle your entrance with your middle fingers and dip them inside but he stops you. 

“Ah ah…I’m gonna give you what you want, baby. C’mere.” He slips a strong arm under your waist and lifts you easily, and your legs automatically lock around his hips as he switches the position, lying back against the pillows and perching you on top of him.

Your lips curl into a smile as you lean down to kiss him again, “Mmm…I love this view.”

“Mine’s better,” he quips, leaning his head up to kiss all over one of your breasts, teasing your nipple with his tongue. 

His hands roam up over your back and you find your hips moving on their own accord, grinding your folds over his hard length. Your wetness coats him and he groans against you, one hand gripping your hip and the other swiftly reaching down to guide his cock into you.  

Your head falls back as you feel the tip push past your entrance. He’s slipping inside you easily from how wet you are, but your walls weren’t ready to be stretched out so suddenly. He keeps pushing in, pressing his hips up, until he’s bottomed out inside you completely. You bite your lip and let out a soft whine from just how full you feel with him inside you. “S—ah…Toru…I…” you can’t formulate any coherent words in this moment, so you stop trying. You can’t think, because all that’s in your head right now is the thought of him stuffing you full of his cock. 

Satoru doesn’t like to rush, so he allows you a moment to adjust to him, because the last thing he wants is for you to be hurt. He gently guides your hips to rock back and forth and you start to do it on your own, gasping when you feel the fullness again. 

“Who’s got you full of his cock, baby? Huh?” He asks, a smugness in his tone. 

“Y-you,” you muster, rolling your hips in gradually bigger circles. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises you, letting you take the reins, his hands resting on your ass, squeezing the supple flesh. Your walls adjust to him relatively quickly and you lean forward, bouncing your hips on him faster, pussy gripping his cock tighter each time you sink down onto him. “Fuck, that’s it,” he grunts, cupping your face to bring your lips to his. 

“Mmm…Toru, I’m close…” you moan out against him, making him groan to your lips. 

“Not yet,” he tells you, and you feel your walls clench at the sound of his authoritative tone. You slow down your hips a little and pant softly as you continue to ride him slower. 

In a flash of white, he’s snaked his arm around your hips and flipped you onto your back, slipping out of you in the process. Your legs dangle up in the air as you blink at him and catch your breath a bit. 

He gives no warning as he takes control and slides into you again, all the way home, and you keen from the perfection of his dick fitting so wonderfully inside you. His pubic bone teases your clit and your eyes almost roll into the back of your head as he draws his hips back and fucks into you again, but harder. 

You feel his balls slap against your ass each time he ruts his hips into yours and you are rendered speechless from the feeling of his cock pounding into you. 

Your brain is overcome with emotion from a combination of not being able to articulate any words and the way he’s fucking you senseless, and you find tears pricking your eyes and filling your vision. 

You try to blink them away and avoid eye contact by looking down to watch the way he fits so smoothly inside you, but this only overwhelms your senses more. 

Sight. 

Your back arches, a whine falling from your lips which quickly turns into a breathless moan of his name. 

“Baby…you cryin’?” He coos, leaning down and resting his body weight on yours, continuing to fuck his cock into your heat. 

“M-m…” your lip trembles as you cry, the tears rolling along the side of your face as your legs quake. You try to ground yourself, bringing a shaky hand up around his back, feeling the way his muscles are tensing, but it’s no use. 

You feel the imminence of your orgasm as the pressure increases, your walls tightening, making it harder for him to keep pounding into you the way he was. But he doesn’t let up. He keeps going, knowing all too well the signs your body was giving him. He reaches between you, pressing his thumb to your clit, teasing it, circling it. 

You gasp for breath, shallowly, your heart racing, the sound of your wetness accentuating the way your hips were colliding. 

Sound. 

You had made a complete mess of yourself, him, and the bed, but your senses were so overwhelmed by him that you didn’t even notice. 

With each pump of his cock into you, you’re pushed closer and closer to the edge. Your body cannot hold up for another second, the tension having built up so forcefully that it’s sudden; your body releases, the orgasm washing over your entire body and causing you to let out a sound that’s partly a moan and partly a cry. Your walls clench so tightly around Satoru’s cock that it pulls a strangled groan from him, his deep pants only adding to the high of your orgasm. 

He slows down, rocking his hips into yours now and riding you through it as your walls clench less. But he doesn’t stop. 

You tremble under him as you feel the heavy drag of him sliding in and out of your gummy walls. “You’re doin’ so good for me, baby,” he praises, and you choke out a soft cry as you melt into the sheets. “Shh…I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

His soft voice contrasts with the harsh plunge of his cock deep into you and he begins to fuck you relentlessly once again. Your body had not fully recovered from your first orgasm, yet your second was fast approaching. Feeling overwhelmed and quickly becoming overstimulated, you try to inhale deeply to steady your mind but the delicious scent of his sweat and his pheromones takes over your nose. 

Smell. 

That was it. The final sense, unlocked, consumed in full. Every single cell in your body is consumed by him. Your brain begins to shut down, very well and truly cockdrunk, and he can see this, how he’s got you putty in his hands, senses so gone that you’ve been rendered speechless and become his fuck toy. 

He brings his fingers to your cheek and caresses it softly, “Talk to me, sweetness… wanna hear you.”

His soft coaxing stirs something to life inside you and you feel like you’d been outside of your body for a moment and had come crashing back into it and into this moment. 

“I’m gonna come,” you rasp out. You let out a gasp when you feel the emptiness of your walls when he slips out of you, stopping the tension that was building in its tracks. 

He loves having control, the power, it’s something he gets off on. So when he grabs your legs and pushes them back, folding you in half, you find yourself starting to cry once more. Not from discomfort, nor from sadness, just from pure overwhelm. 

“Toru,” you cry his name and he lets out a low grunt at how fucking sexy you sound. 

“Give me one more, sweet girl,” he dips his head to lock his lips with yours in a long kiss and all you can do is nod through your tears as he slips into you again. 

He’s quick to return to his previous pace, rough, deep, making sure you feel every single ridge of his cock inside you. You felt everything more now because of the new position, and you cling onto the pillow as you feel the tension building fast.

“I-I…I’m close, Toru,” you whine out and you sit up a little, mustering whatever strength you had left in that moment to pull him down to kiss you. With his lips on yours in a bruising kiss, his thumb rubbing quick circles on your swollen clit, and his cock pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, you’re tipped over the edge into the throes of bliss, breathless moans being drawn from you. You feel the rush of your second release wash over your body, this one stronger and more prominent than the first, every nerve ending in your body on fire. 

Satoru’s hips stutter at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him so tightly, and he tries to hold off but he doesn’t know if he can. He kisses you again, and again, finding a steady pace as he allows you to catch your breath for a moment. “Come for me,” you whisper to his lips, and it catches him off guard slightly, but he wasn’t ready for what you said next, “come in me.”

He groans your name deeply, rutting his hips roughly into yours a few more times until his orgasm takes hold of him, hot streams of cum being released into you and painting your walls. He slows to a stop and then lies on top of you, closing his eyes as he enjoys the high. Your hand threads through his soft hair, and you run your fingers through it gently, both of your bodies are covered in a sheen of sweat as you pant for breath. 

“You definitely sobered me up,” you let out a breathless, tired laugh. 

He looks up at you, giving you a languid kiss, staying connected and in your arms. 

“I had to mark my territory,” he shrugs and you flick his arm. “What? I had to remind you that you’re all mine, and always will be,” he smirks. 

 The phrase ‘fucked your brains out’ had found a whole new meaning, because, fuck, did he. 

~

Do not copy or translate my work.

© ashasdiary, all rights reserved.

[withahappyrefrain]

Somebody to Love

Summary: Attending a cookout hosted by Penny seemed like the perfect way to kickstart summer. Meeting and falling in love there wasn't on yours or Bradley's bingo list.

Warnings: Language, Bradley being a loverboy, female reader

For @roosterforme's Rocktober event! I'm so sorry it took so long and hope you enjoy it!

The first time you saw Bradley was at the Hard Deck.  

He completely missed you, as much as it pains him to admit. 

In his defense, his eyes were on the ivory keys of the piano, only looking up briefly to revel in the cheers from guests of the Hard Deck as he played. 

You, in his defense, were just trying to get in and out. Considering it was barely seven, you thought you were coming in before things got rowdy.

You were mistaken. 

The show he was putting on was nice to watch while you waited for Penny to be free. But that's all it was, a show. And after a while, you couldn't help but scoff. Was being in the Navy not enough attention? 

The smile on Penny's face when her eyes met yours was worth the wait. You pulled out the coveted book from your bag, raising it in the air as if it were the golden ticket. 

"Amelia is going to be so excited," Penny beamed as she took the book from you, "She's been talking about it for weeks!"

The mention of your former student brought a smile to your face. 

Amelia was a student during your first year of teaching. You felt a kinship to the young girl, whose parents were going through a divorce at the time. You also saw that her love of reading was untapped, blocked by years of past teachers failing to help her learn how to read. 

So you worked with her the whole year, and the summer after that, helping the girl catch up. One summer, Penny offered a bartender job when she heard you were looking for extra money. Over time, the Benjamin women had become more like family than your own. 

It's why you stayed in touch. Why you took on extra shifts occasionally during the school year, when Penny truly needed help at the last minute. Why you made the trip out to the Hard Deck simply to give a book. 

"Stay for a drink? It's on the house," Penny held up an empty glass, hoping the way it gleamed in the light could entice you into staying. 

But you looked around, taking in how many people were there, how loud it was. How the man wearing aviators and a Hawaiian shirt was feeding the crowd with the piano rendition of a song that sounded familiar. 

And simply shook your head. 

"Should get going, it is a school night." The truth was, you'd rather be at home, in your bed reading than staying out late with a bunch of pilots. 

Before you could say goodbye, Penny placed a hand on yours.

"Before you go Birdie, I wanted to let you know that we're celebrating Amelia's middle school graduation two weeks from Saturday. We'd love to have you there." 

You smiled, sincerely flattered that they would want you present for such an event, "I'd love to. Will your man of the hour be there?" 

A giggle escaped from you when you saw Penny's cheeks begin to turn pink. 

Bradley swears if he had looked over at that moment, he wouldn't have let you leave the Hard Deck that night. 

—------------------------

Bradley Bradshaw was not anti-romance, despite what his friends claimed, despite the numerous times he's turned down someone wanting to set him up. 

The idea of romance did appeal to him. The idea of spending the rest of his life with one person, who loved him and wanted to grow a family with him, was very appealing in theory. 

He wasn't against it at all. Just cautious. 

Cautious as he witnessed first hand how dangerous his job was, how it tore families apart. Hesitant because he grew up with the aftermath- the support groups, the sympathetic looks, the empty dining chair that served as a loud, always present reminder of what he and his mother had lost. 

He had been on dates, had been in relationships. They never went anywhere and Bradley was fine with that. The possibility that he may not come back from his deployments lingered in his mind, as did the image of someone receiving a flag and maybe his dog tags. 

Why put someone through that? 

“It's hard, but I wouldn't change a thing about it. You'll understand when it happens to you.” 

His mother’s words rang in his ears. He knew she meant well. Bradley knew those words were true for her. 

But he couldn't see them being true for himself. 

So he came to Amelia’s graduation party with a vegetable tray and no date, despite Penny’s insistence that he could bring someone. 

It's why Bradley walked straight past the kitchen, ignoring the unfamiliar voices. It's why he kept to the people he knew, rather than mingle with strangers. 

And that was fine, enjoyable even. Things were going the way they always went, the way Bradley wanted it. 

Consistent. 

Bradley Bradshaw lived for consistency. Each morning, he'd get up and go to work. Work hard until his bones ache. Spend time with friends and the makeshift family he had found. Go to bed alone. Rinse and repeat. 

Consistent. 

Everything was just fine, until Bradley felt a hand grip his shoulder. When he turned around, he found Jake and his fiancé, Danica (or Venus, as everyone called her), looking at him. 

“Your future wife is in the kitchen. Get in there.” 

—-------------------------------

Bob saw her first. 

It was hard to miss the sound of classic rock blaring from her red Subaru. 

The sounds of eighties rock was a nice change from the Jerry Lewis and Sinatra music Bradley insisted on playing. 

Even nicer was her voice. Sweet, smooth, light. 

She was clearly in her own world, unaware she had an audience. 

Nor would she. Bob knew better than anyone the pains of people walking in on him. So he quietly got out of his car, leaving her to finish the song by herself. 

Reuben was the first one to speak to her. 

Or rather, his daughter was. 

Ava, always determined to explore, ran into the kitchen as soon as he set her on the ground. 

It was easy to find her. Despite being only two, Ava had quite the voice on her. 

Given her shouts about cookies, Reuben wasn’t surprised when he found his daughter in the kitchen, pointing excitedly to a plate of sugar cookies. 

He was a little surprised to see that the person kneeling down to talk to her wasn’t Penny, but rather a woman he had never seen before. 

“Is it okay if I give her a cookie?” She asked, motioning to the sugar cookie she was holding in her hand. 

“As long as you're able to cut her off after two,” Reuben chuckled, “I'm warning you now, she can be hard to convince.” 

You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you looked at Ava, “It'll be tough, but I think I can manage.” 

Javy was the first one to try to include her in the picnic festivities. 

“Hey, don't tell them this is what we’re calling them, but we’re playing beer pong against the old timers in the basement. You in?” He asked. 

“Oh I'm good, but don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” She said with a gentle smile and a wink. 

It was the fact that she sounded assured, content to stay in the kitchen and continue making small talk with some of the wives, away from the hubbub of the picnic, that made him not push. 

Natasha was the first one to have an actual conversation with her. 

In a sea full of testosterone, it was  hard not to notice another woman. Especially one who looked around her age. 

“So how do you know Penny?” You looked rather surprised by Nat’s question, surprised that another person had noticed you in the kitchen and decided to converse.

“Oh, I'm, well, I was Amelia’s third grade teacher. I tutored her for a couple of summers and have helped Penny bartend when she needs extra help,” you explained. 

Natasha recalls Penny mentioning you a few times, now able to put a face to the name. 

“So you're the teacher! Penny said we might see you at the Hard Deck this summer,” Nat grinned, hoping it would help her feel more at ease. 

“I am! I'm still figuring out how exactly I want to spend my summer. First time I won't be doing summer school or tutoring,” you explained, continuing to wash the dishes that had begun to pile up on the counter. 

“Any travel plans? Or family you plan to visit?” Nat asked. 

You shook your head, eyes appearing dismal for a brief moment, “I don't have much family to visit. But I have been meaning to explore the area more, so I might do that.” 

Natasha knew not to press. You didn't owe her any further explanation. 

But out of all people, Jake Seresin was the one to make the connection. 

“I’m sorry, but what did Penny just call you?” He asked, jamming a finger up his ear to clean it out, convinced he heard it wrong. 

“Oh, Birdie!” you explained, flustered, “It’s um….it’s always been a nickname that friends and family have called me, ever since I was a kid. When I told Penny, she started calling me that too.”

Jake recalls the other details he's learned; a love of classic rock, vintage clothes and children, how your face lit up when someone spoke to you, as though you had  been waiting an awfully long time to be noticed, to be acknowledged. 

Your nickname. 

It hits Jake like a fucking freight train. 

“Excuse me, I have to go uh, um, find my wife,” he said abruptly, practically running out of the kitchen. 

Jake quickly found his Venus, tapping her on the shoulder as he ignored the death glare Phoenix was giving him for interrupting. 

“What is-” 

“Birdie. Her nickname is Birdie.” 

Danica’s amber-glazed eyes widened as she shot Natasha a knowing look. 

“Where is she?” 

Which is how Bradley Bradshaw found himself being dragged away from the grill and into Penny's house. 

After all, Bradley didn't have too much common sense. He would insist he was alright, despite losing his beat as he watched his close friends fall in love and get married. 

So they were just helping, helping him find somebody to love. 

“Y'all are being ridiculous, just because she likes the same music-” 

“It's more than that. You just need to see for yourself,” Jake explained, pushing him towards the kitchen. Inside, a sweet voice was talking.

“Peekaboo! I see you!” He could hear a big smile through your voice, “Now it's Ava’s turn!” 

Bradley turned the corner to find you sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor, enabling you to be somewhat closer to eye level with Ava. You and the little toddler were both full of giggles as you continued your game. 

Ava’s small hands flew up to her face, covering her eyes. It was an adorable sight, how she was trying to say the words. A bright smile adorned your face, eyes shining as you played with her. 

“Where did Ava go?” You asked, pretending to look, “There she is!”

A warmth flooded Bradley’s heart as he watched this mysterious woman interact with Ava. It felt familiar,childhood memories of his mom flooding back. But this time, instead of feeling sorrow, a pleasantness surrounded him. 

Strange. 

Ava babbled, causing you to giggle once more. 

“My name is Birdie. Can you say Birdie?”

Oh. 

So that was why everyone thought this was his future wife. 

It was a cute coincidence, nothing more. Yes, it was beyond endearing to watch you interact with Ava, you were obviously great with kids. 

“Roo!” Ava’s coos of her special nickname for Bradley broke him out of his thoughts. 

“What's a Roo?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. The puzzled look on your face was adorable. 

“That would be me. Hey Ava girl,” Bradley kneeled down, his arms open wide, allowing Ava to run over and hug him. 

You instantly recognized him thanks to the memorable mustache. But his smile and eyes were much softer now. His whole demeanor is less cocky and more approachable in Penny’s kitchen. 

Bradley scooped the young toddler into his arms, grinning as Ava giggled. 

“You being good? Trying to persuade people to give you more cookies by being adorable?” Bradley asked the toddler. 

“I'm holding out strong. Don't want her dad to hate me for giving her a sugar rush,” You explained, a soft smile on your face as you watched him interact with Ava. 

“See, the key is to make sure the sugar rush happens when he takes her home,” Bradley grinned, “That way he can't do anything about it.” 

“I'm sure he can ask around regarding who gave her all that sugar though,” you retorted, facing the sink again to continue the dishes. 

“See, that's where you have the advantage; you're not in the group chat,” Bradley balanced Ava on a hip, walking over to the sink to join you. 

You were fun to talk to; able to hold your own with a soft, yet slightly mischievous smile adorning your face. 

“I'm Bradley,” he explained, the spirit of his mother probably screaming that it took him this long to introduce himself. 

“I take that's your actual name, considering that's way too normal to be your callsign,” normally you wouldn't tease a complete stranger like this. But he was easy to talk to and it helped that he was holding an adorable baby like a complete natural. 

“It is. My callsign is Rooster.” The information caused your hands to still. 

“Rooster?” It was too wild to be a coincidence. 

“Yeah, when I was part of my first squadron, I was always the first one to be up. But I also had a tendency to be well, louder than what they would have preferred, which is how I got my callsign Rooster.” Bradley smiled as he recalled the loud complaints of his squadron, which always seemed to die down once they learned he was making breakfast. 

“I, love that. Sorry, I, it's funny your callsign is that. Because it's like a nickname right? My nickname is Birdie,” your speech quickened as you realized you were rambling, “I know that nicknames aren't the same as callsigns. Well, in a way they are, they're both given to you for a reason, right? It's just funny how our nicknames are both-” 

“Excuse me?” You looked up to see your savior came in the form of a bespectacled man who was standing by the door. 

“I was threat-I mean, told by Danica and Phoenix that I needed to get Ava,” The man said, walking over to Bradley. 

“Bo!” Ava exclaimed, reaching for the man. 

“Sure thing Bob,” Bradley said, hanging over the toddler to his friend, unable to stop himself from rolling his eyes at his friends’ schemes. 

“C'mon Ava, let's leave the two soon to be lovebirds alone,” Bob whispered, out of the room before Bradley could say anything.

“Did he just… “

Bradley sighed, “Gotta watch out for that one. He's quiet but can be cheeky when he wants to be.” 

“As opposed to the others, who are just outright cheeky?” You asked. 

Bradley chuckled, “You're catching on. Here, I can dry while you wash?” 

He could be spending time with his squadron. Could be spending time joking with Mav’s old squad, making jokes and talking about the past that he was too young to remember. Could be anywhere but here in the kitchen, helping you do dishes. 

And yet, he didn't mind it at all. Bradley was finding himself enjoying his conversation with you, despite knowing it would earn him several eye rolls and shoulder shoves from Danica and Jake. 

You were surprised he was still here, that he hadn't found an excuse to leave. 

It was a nice change. 

“So you're the teacher Penny talks about?” 

You laughed, “Is that who I'm known as? You're like the third person to ask me that.” 

“Just shows how big of an impact you had.” Your cheeks warmed at the praise. 

“You know, you just try your best. Make sure to listen. Helps that I'm also a child of divorce, you know? Had a lot of pointers,”  you shrugged, but it was clear you were downplaying your efforts. 

“Have you always wanted to be a teacher?” Bradley asked, wanting to keep the conversation going, despite the dishes being done. 

You took your hands out of your pockets, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Your shoulders shrug as a small smile spreads across your lips. 

“Yeah. I love helping folks, especially kids. I was a camp counselor all throughout high school and I just….felt at home when I was helping other people,” you explained. 

You leaned forward, the scent of jasmine flooding Bradley’s nostrils. 

“It makes sense that I became a teacher. But if you asked me as a kid what I wanted to do as a grown up, I wouldn't have said teaching.” 

Bradley leaned forward. With the sunlight hitting him, you could now see the lighter shades of brown that adorned his curls. 

“A mom. I’ve always wanted to be a mom.” 

“You'll understand when it happens to you.” 

Oh. Okay. 

That's when Bradley Bradley finally gets it. Because he's imagining life with you; moving in together, getting married, having kids. The risk is still there. But he'd rather live with that risk and you than not at all. 

“I know that's silly, but it's true. I mean, it's not even an occupation-” 

“I said I wanted to be a dad when I grew up.” 

Your eyes light up at his admission, feeling at ease and less like a rambling burden. 

“You must have had a really great Dad then.” There was a flash of sorrow in his eyes at the mention of his father. 

“From what I remember. I was only four when he died, but….from what I remember, he was great,” his voice was softer now, his eyes showing he was in another place. 

You inched closer to him, “I'm really sorry, I'm sure that was hard for you and your mom.” 

“It wasn't easy. But she always said she wouldn't change anything. Never really understood that until recently.” His shoulder is touching yours, his long fingers inches away from your thighs. You were hyper aware of the closeness, unsure if moving away would be proper or offensive. 

“Something helped you have that revelation?” 

“Moreso someone.” 

It's impossible to not notice the way his stare lingers on you, how his smile is warm and those whisky eyes are shining bright as he sends a wink your way. It makes your heart flutter; no one has ever looked at you that way before. 

Nerves begin to overtake your brain, causing you to look away from his intense gaze. 

“Should we um, get back to the picnic?” You all but mumbled. There's no desire to leave him, but you don't want to get your hopes up. 

“Can I at least get your number before we do that?” Bradley asks, eagerly getting out his phone. 

Bradley Bradshaw hates accidents, except for the one that led him to this kitchen, to you. 

His forwardness is uncharted territory. There's no wondering or second guessing; Bradley wants to stay in touch, wants to keep talking to you. 

It's nice. It's unfamiliar. It's exciting. It's sending your doubts and anxiety into a tailspin. 

Your fingers fumble for your phone, opening up a new contact for him to fill out. His fingers brush against yours when he hands you his phone, little sparks flying up your spine. 

Bradley simply smiles when your eyes look at the screen of his phone. Your brows knit together in confusion, the bridge of your nose scrunching up as you read over the words again and again, eyes surely playing tricks on you. 

“Um, I think you made a mistake Bradley?” you hold up his phone, “The name for this  contact is Mrs. Bradshaw?” It also has a heart emoji next to it, but that wasn't worth mentioning. 

“Oh, it's no mistake,” Bradley grins. 

The only sound you can let out is a confused huh. 

“You just gotta put your number right there, and then you're all set.” Bradley points to it, an assured smile remaining on his face. 

“Are you….are you going to change the name?” You asked, dumbfounded. 

Bradley shrugs, “Nah. I'll know it's you. But I can put the word ‘future’ in parentheses if you want it to be more accurate.” 

Your fingers have a mind of their own, typing in those desired ten numbers. Bradley takes his phone from your hands but not before placing a gentle kiss on your burning cheek. 

His lips feel soft, the hairs of his mustache gently tickling your skin. When you turn your head, your lips are now inches away from yours. 

You try to ground yourself, try to look away from his lips, try to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that's overtaking your body. 

“Sorry Birdie, but I'm old fashioned. First kiss shouldn't be until the first date,” He winks. 

What floors you more, his confidence or his bold desire for you? 

Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “And when will that be?” 

Bradley chuckles, “Whenever you want Birdie.” 

He can't be serious. But what would he gain from leading you on, other than Penny’s wrath? 

You straighten your shoulders, trying to hold your own against his large frame.

“Tomorrow at six,” You muster up all the confidence you can, preparing yourself for him to drop the act. 

“Done. Do you prefer Italian or French?” 

“Neither as I'm lactose intolerant.” This was it. Was he going to stop the act, once he knew it would require more effort. 

“How do you feel about Thai? I know a great spot. Never been but it's been praised by Jake and Danica and let me tell you, that woman does not give out praise easily.” 

You giggled, “I could tell. By the way, is there a reason he calls her Venus?” 

“Short version; he's obsessed with her. Been that way since they met in the parking lot of a coffee shop. You should ask them how they met; they give different answers and it's hilarious,” Bradley explains, a gleam in his eyes as he thinks about one of his favorite couples. 

“I'd like that. But if you go with me,” you asked, “Kinda random to just walk up to a couple you don't know and ask how they met.” 

Again, you expect Bradley to falter. He's clearly more outgoing than you, so why would he want someone whose first instinct wasn't to strike up a conversation with strangers? 

“I will, but only if you confirm we’re on for Thai tomorrow at six.” 

Surely, he couldn't be serious. But that sweet smile and shining brown eyes said otherwise. 

“You really gonna take me out?” you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Of course! I mean, I'm more than happy to take you out tonight, but you said tomorrow, so I'm sticking to it. Plus, it gives me time to get you flowers. Speaking of which, what are your favorite? You seem like a sunflower gal,” his eyes reminded you of an eager puppy, absolutely endearingly adorable. 

“What makes you think that?” He was absolutely right, but you wouldn't let him know that yet. 

Bradley shrugged, “When you smile, it reminds me of sunshine. Also, if it want to get technical, birds also like sunflower seeds.” 

You couldn't help but throw your head back and laugh. Your laugh was sweet, bursting with joy. It calmed down Bradley’s racing heartbeat. 

 “And what should I get you, Rooster? Corn meal?”

His corniness almost made you forget that he literally compared you to the sun. 

Almost. 

His laugh was deep, bellowing deep from his stomach, making you feel warm all over. 

“You kill me Mrs. Bradshaw, now let's go get you that story,” He gently takes your hand into his, entwining his fingers with yours. 

The nickname makes you less confused and more certain Bradley would be sticking around.

[dira333]

This Is Me Trying - Kageyama x Reader

there's one line missing that I'd have loved to include but I am still pretty okay with how this turned out instead.

Tagging: @alienaiver for helping, @screamin-abt-haikyuu and @lees-chaotic-brain for Haikyuu

“Where’s Kageyama?”

The rest of the team turns at Hinata’s question, but their first-year setter is nowhere to be seen. 

“Not this again,” Daichi mutters in frustration, thinking back to Hinata’s missing shoes the day before. “We’ve got twenty minutes before our next game. I want us to all go in teams. Hinata, you’re with me. I cannot have you get lost as well.”

- Meanwhile -

“How long have you been playing volleyball? Who taught you? How long have you been a setter? How do you train? Do you get along with your team members? Have you ever hit a wall?”

“Huh?” You turn to the guy creeping up behind you, a bag clutched in his hands as he stares you down. Your teammates are sending both of you curious looks and you can tell that your Captain is just a second away from interfering.

“Can I help you?” You ask, surprised when he flinches away, stuttering. 

“I- am… I am Kageyama Tobio.” He bows so abruptly and so deeply that you fear for his spine. “I saw you play yesterday.”

“Ah?” You blink. “What school are you from?”

“Karasuno.”

“Oh,” you blink again. “I saw you play as well. You’re their setter. What year are you in?”

“First. Your serve-”

“Alright, alright.” You pull him to the side by his arm and wave at your Captain before she can do something more drastic. “I have to say your drive is admirable, but you’re not the first person to ask for my secrets. Why would I tell you?”

Kageyama considers that for a second, brows furrowing. He’s really not good at making his face work for him. It might look cute though, if he relaxed a little. 

“I wanna stay on the court the longest,” he declares, face set in a scowl that could turn milk sour.”

“Again, you’re not the only one. You gotta impress me a little more, Kageyama-kun.” You snip two fingers against his temple, watch him almost short-circuit at the sensation.

To your surprise, Kageyama bows again.

“I want to spend more time playing with this team. I am not good with people. You are good with people. I need to learn more.”

“Fine,” you tell him after a second. “Gimme your phone.”

He doesn’t stop watching you as you type in your number. “If you win today as well, you can send me details about your play. Don’t forget to tell me where you’re staying. I’ll come by and we’ll talk about it, okay? Can’t promise it will help, though.”

“Kageyama!” Someone yells at that moment, and he turns to find two guys waving at him. One of them has a shaved head, the other has a bleached strand of hair sticking up like a lightning strike.

“Good luck,” you tell him, patting his shoulder. Kageyama leaves with one last look back at you.

“You’re in trouble!” Shaved head sings as he joins them. “Daichi’s mad as hell, looking for you. All because of a cute girl?”

“I didn’t- She isn’t-” He looks back as if to check, blushing bright red when he spots you still looking at him. “I wanted to know more about her technique, that’s all.”

Both guys laugh loudly. “You really are something else, Kageyama.” The guy with the Lighting Strike declares and then they’re gone.

“Why did you give him your number?” Your libero asks when you join the team again. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to murder you for your skin?”

“No,” You laugh softly. “He reminded me of someone, that’s all.”

Karasuno wins. So do you. 

No one pays you any mind when you slip out of the hotel you’re staying in, jogging down the streets to where Kageyama’s team is staying.

“Oh,” Shaved Head spots you at the front door. “You’re the cute girl Kageyama found.”

“I am,” you grin, “I’m looking for him. Is he around?”

“Kageyama!” He hollers down the hallway. “Uh, he’s in the bathroom, I think. I’m Tanaka by the way. What team are you playing in?”

“Niiyama,” you explain and his eyes light up. “No way, you’re playing with Kanoka.”

“Exactly. You know her?”

“Yeah, we’re childhood besties. So, you won today, right?”

“Yep. Don’t know if she told you, but we’re thinking about making Kanoka Captain next year.”

“You are. Wow. Does she know alrea-” “I’m here!” Kageyama declares from the door, wet hair sticking to his flushed face. 

“Oh, you showered already?” You ask, “I thought we could do a run-”

“Right away,” Kageyama declares, already slipping into the shoes by the door.

“Forget it, hotshot,” you put a hand on his shoulders and drag him away, “not when your hair is still wet. You’re going to get a cold. It’s fine, it’s fine, we can still work without running around.”

And you do. Even though you have to pretend you don’t notice every single member of his team walking by, peeking into the little lobby, trying to catch parts of your conversation with him.

Kageyama, however, will not let himself get distracted. He’s sucking up every word you say and, as soon as you’ve figured out how he thinks, is able to discuss ideas with you at an impressive rate.

“So…” You lean back a little after almost an hour, ignoring the little red-haired guy who’s sitting at the door, listening in. “What are your plans? Do you want to become Captain in your Third Year? Make it to Nationals every Year? Play professionally after High School or go to College first?”

“I don’t have good grades,” Kageyama points out. “I just want to stay on Court for as long as possible. Play my best.”

“Hmmm,” you get up. “Tell you what. You have my number. Make it through these Nationals and go back home. Let me know how you’re feeling next school year, okay?”

“Okay.” He shakes your hand and bows deeply, staying far too long in the open doorway, looking after you as you leave.

You don’t feel you’ve done a lot for him today. You just listened, explained a few things, told him about your perspective.

But he’s acting like you’ve changed his world and you wonder if you did. And if so, in what way…

Kageyama’s sleeping on your bedroom floor.

Your mother would throw a fit if she knew, but she’s gone for the weekend and Kageyama took the three-hour train ride in stride just to spend a weekend training with you.

College Volleyball isn’t much different from High School Volleyball, except for the harsher course load. 

He’d been updating you weekly with the teams and his own progress, updates coming in more often when it turned out that the team had problems adapting to the new Captain, or rather, the lack of their old. 

“You miss Sugawara,” you point out only half an hour after he’s arrived. 

He looks surprised at first, but then easily gives in.

“I’m still not good at connecting with my teammates.”

“Have you tried the exercises that I gave you?”

He scowls and you laugh. “Come on, Kageyama, I know you’re better than that. Practice with me, then.”

Stiffly, he turns his head. “How are you doing lately?”

You laugh again, louder this time. “You’ve got to work on your expressions, but I’m doing okay, I guess. I don’t have that much time for training because of College, so I feel like I’m falling behind.”

Kageyama falls quiet and you nudge your elbow into his side.

“This is your chance to say ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Can I do something for you?’”

“Why did you go to College if it takes away time from playing Volleyball?” He asks instead and you stop, surprised by his question.

“Because I want something to fall back on if I can’t make it in Volleyball. What if I get hurt? What if I no longer want to play?”

Kageyama scowls. “Why would you want to stop playing?”

“What are you going to do when you’re too old to play professionally?” You ask back and he falls quiet. For the remainder of your run, he’s unreachable to you. Whatever he’s thinking about, he’s far, far away.

“What am I supposed to do instead?” He asks eventually, bangs hiding his eyes.

You’re stretching and he follows your movements, intent on copying you, as usual. As if you have all the answers in the world.

“Tell me about your Childhood, Tobio,” you ask instead.

That’s how you end up, him sleeping on your bedroom floor and you craving nothing more than to pick him up and hug him so tight that all the loneliness drains out of him.

You’re no stranger to grief, but it’s so different when you have to watch someone you care about in its clutches.

Karasuno doesn’t make it to the Nationals in their second year. Tobio still gets invited to this Year’s Youth Camp and you make sure to take that weekend off, taking the same train so you can sit next to him for three of his eight-hour ride, listening to him ramble on about school, Hinata, Volleyball. 

“You’re going to do great,” you tell him, wondering how it happened that you’re now feeling this way. As if he punctured your heart and crawled inside, making it his home without realizing it.

Third-Year Tobio is a heartbreaker. 

He tells you about the confessions he gets with the naivety of someone much younger. Every single time you have to force yourself to ask “And what did you answer?” only to hear that he’s declined, yet again.

You wonder what he’s thinking of you. You’re still a Star Setter, but do you have anything left to teach him? You think Sugawara did a way better job at that anyway. 

But he still makes the three-hour ride at least once every two months, sleeping on your bedroom floor when your mom is away for the weekend. 

One time you take his hand in a crowded train station and he doesn’t let go.

If only you could let yourself have this. 

But does he even think about you that way?

X

“Sugawara-senpai?” Kageyama asks, phone pressed hard against his ear. “What do you wear on a sleepover?”

He sits amidst his things, a volleyball in his lap.

“Pajamas, usually. Why do you ask?”

“Even if it’s with a girl?”

Sugawara sounds like he’s choking.

“A sleepover with a girl? Boy, you’re- wait, who are you sleeping at?”

Kageyama says your name with the familiar feeling of pride that comes with it.

He was the one who approached you and he’s the one who still gets to text and call you, visit you even. Not Hinata, who can make everyone like him, or Tsukishima, who’s somehow getting love confessions even though he’s an ass. 

“Well, it depends… on what you’ve already done together.”

“Done together?” Kageyama furrows his brows. “We’ve analyzed our games. And I get to play with her friends sometimes.”

“Kageyama.” Sugawara’s voice is serious. “I need to ask you this. Why are you sleeping over?”

“Because she lives far away and I can’t make both treks in one day.”

“I get that, but… why are you visiting her anyway? Just to get more tips?”

Kageyama halts for a second. “I… don’t know.”

“Mhm. Thought so. You know, most boys sleeping over at girls' houses have more than just Volleyball tips in mind.”

“She’s giving me tips on how to get along with my teammates as well,” He explains, but Sugawara just chuckles low in his throat.

“That’s not what I meant. I guess you know what it’s going to look like, right? That’s why you’re asking what to wear?”

Kageyama digs his knees into the floor of his room and bits down on his lip but the words still tumble out.

“I’ve never been on a sleepover before. One that’s not the whole team sleeping somewhere, I mean. I didn’t want to ask Hinata because he’s got so many friends and he might think-”

“Ah…” Sugawara interrupts him. “I get it. Don’t worry. We’ll go over this like we did with the topic of Smalltalk, okay? Basic steps first, then some finer things. Would that help?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Girl’s rooms look different than boy’s rooms, Kageyama knows.

His sister’s room is filled with pictures of celebrities, make-up, and accessories have driven out anything volleyball-related long ago.

Yachi’s room is colorful, with little designer pieces and cute stationery she likes to collect.

Yours is different altogether.

The prizes you won are proudly displayed, next to a collection of textbooks. There’s a bed and a small closet and you serve him tea on the floor of your room, giggling over the stories he tells from training.

Kageyama likes talking to you. Just like Sugawara, you never mind when his words come out more brash than they should, or when he can’t figure out how to word a question right. You’ve got kind eyes and a soft smile and you touch him more often than other people.

Telling you about his grandfather or his fear of ending up alone again - the words might not come easy, but you handle them gently, like it’s safe to let them rest with you.

You snore a little, he figures out that first night. The softest sound he wants to never forget.

Sleeping over at a friend’s house is something he wants to do again and again, talking low in the darkness, knowing that someone who cares is just a short distance away.

When he has to leave you hug him goodbye. 

For the first time, he thinks he knows why people do it, this seemingly unnecessary ritual of enveloping each other.

For the first time, he thinks about not letting go.

But his train’s going to leave without him and you wave until the train station is out of sight. Kageyama likes to think you waved a little longer. Just because.

“Are you away this weekend, Kageyama?” Has become a regular question. 

Hinata’s no longer pestering him with questions about his private training sessions on the weekend. 

He’s getting better at working with the new First Years and a new invite for the National Youth Camp has him reach for the phone to call you.

He’s more nervous than last time and he wonders if it’s about you, sitting next to him on the train, legs pressed together on the small seats. 

You smell sweet and he wonders if he could hug, just like that, just because. 

Do people do that? Just hug for no reason but to touch? He should ask Sugawara about it.

“You’re going to do great,” you say and he wants to promise that he will, just for you.

But he doesn’t, because that would sound weird, wouldn’t it? 

After all, he’s so much younger than you. 

Do you even think about him in that way? The way he thinks about you?

Your hand fits perfectly in his.

Kageyama knows the taste of your favorite dessert and always has some money saved to buy you a flower or two at the train station before he gets to your house.

Sometimes, when you sleep, you mumble his name and he can hardly make himself fall asleep because he wants to hear it all, every quiet mention, mumble or snore.

You’re real and you like him, still.

“Are you coming?” He asks when they get through the Qualifiers; when he knows he will make it to the Nationals one last time with this team.

“Of course,” you say and his heart leaps into his throat. 

Kageyama almost tells you, then and there, that he thinks this might be love.

But it doesn’t feel right, over the phone like that, so he pulls the words back before they can spill from his lips.

He will tell you, he promises to himself after they win. This time, Karasuno will be the last one standing in Tokyo.

X

“Oh, you’re here as well,” a guy with greyish hair and a beauty mark beneath his eye waves at you, “We’re sitting over here.”

“Do I know you?” You ask, taking the offered seat nonetheless. The guy pouts and his friends laugh.

“I’m Sugawara,” he explains, “Kageyama’s Senpai. These two are Daichi and Asahi, not that you’d recognize them, right?”

You laugh. “No, guilty as charged. I don’t think I remember any names from your team besides Tanaka and Kageyama.”

“Someone called my name?” Tanaka jumps down the last two steps leading to your seats, grinning. “Kiyoko, they’re already here, Babe.” He waits for his girlfriend to take a seat before leaning in. 

“You’re Kageyama’s girlfriend, right?”

“Oh, it’s not- I…” You wave your hands around awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Tanaka laughs.

“Ah, I knew it, I knew it. No way he’s got that much game. But he’s got lots of talent, don’t you think.”

“He does,” you take the offered topic, lament about their Kohai’s talents for over half an hour until the players finally arrive, warming for their first game. More of Karasuno’s former players have gathered around you, as well as a taiko drum group.

Sugawara lets out a shrill whistle using two fingers and most of the Karasuno players look up, obviously used to the signal.

You wave, hoping against hope that Tobio will be able to pick you out of the crowd.

From this distance, it’s hard to tell, but that frown could mean he’s smiling. Sugawara starts to point at you exaggeratedly and you slap his hands away but it’s too late. 

Tobio has already turned away.

He doesn’t play well at the beginning. Everyone notices.

It takes him a while to find his grove but when he does, he does.

Then it’s over and you wish to do nothing more but to run down and hug him. But it’s safer up here, you know, where your heart won’t leap out of your throat.

But then you have to leave, get up, and move, because the Niiyama Girls are playing in the other hall and you promised you’d watch their game too, knowing that it would sync up perfectly with Karasuno’s rest period.

“I’m going to be back for the next game,” you promise, “so don’t give my seat away.”

Your heart still hammers in your chest as you walk down the staircase.

If only you could keep these moments, locked up in a mason jar, take them out on bad days to relive them again.

“Are you leaving already?” Tobio’s looking up at you, sweat slick hair sticking to his temple, face flushed from exertion.

“I’m just moving to the other stadion to watch the Niiyama Girls,” you explain, pull him in for a hug when you reach him. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you,” his hot breath tickles your neck and maybe you’re imagining it, but you think you feel his heart racing through the thin jersey.

“Your start was messy though,” you reprimand him, your hand moving on its own to shuffle through his hair, putting each strand back where it belongs. “But you saved your ass. I’m going to be back for your next game, don’t worry.”

“I could come with you,” he rushes out. “It doesn’t really matter where I rest, right?”

You catch a look from Karasuno’s captain over Tobio’s shoulder. A smile dances over his freckled face and he makes a face that tells you everything you need to know.

“Fine,” you tell him, knowing that a ‘No’ would never work here, “But you should put on a jacket.”

His hand finds yours on the way to the other game, his grip warm and strong.

You don’t want to ever let go, but you still do, knowing full well how it would look like to your Kouhai’s. You’ve never had a boyfriend in the whole time you played with them. 

And even though the first years still remember Tobio showing up back then, you don’t want to give them any ideas that might come back to break your heart.

“You and Sugawara-senpai,” Tobio starts as soon as you’re sitting, “did you get along well?”

“I guess so,” your leg is pressed against his, the sensation shooting up your spine and into your brain. “He’s nice.”

“How nice?” He asks, voice so low you almost miss it.

You blink. The words are out before you’ve thought them through.

“Are you jealous, Tobio?”

“Should I be?”

You’re not sure how he means it. Teasing? Or is he unsure of this social construct, asking for an explanation?

He takes your hand, looks at it as if checking for injuries. “Would you hold my hand if Sugawara was here as well?”

Your mouth turns dry.

“Would I be allowed?” You ask. “I mean, I’m a lot older than you-”

“I like you.” He blurts it out like he blurts out most things. Two guys in front of you turn around with matching frowns. You’re sure they didn’t come here to hear your love confessions.

“We should talk about this later,” you whisper, cheeks burning. You press his hand. “I like you too, don’t worry.”

“Can’t we talk now?”

And maybe it would have been better to slip out and talk about it, but you’ve never once missed a minute of a game you wanted to see and Tobio’s hand doesn’t leave yours, his grip warm and heavy, his leg pressing into yours.

There’s much to talk about after this game ends and all the other ones today. There’s graduation and other things to consider, but you can’t help but think that it will be okay.

As long as his hand stays in yours, it will be okay.

“Where’s Kageyama?”

You turn to spot Sugawara looking through the crowd.

“Bathroom,” you explain. “I think he had a bit too much to drink.”

“Ah,” Sugawara smiles. “Haven’t had the time to properly talk to you today. How are you? How’s work doing?”

“Good and good. Our last match-”

“I know,” Sugawara smiles. “Kageyama tells me everything. He still calls every week to update me. He spent an hour boasting about that game.”

“Oh,” you blink, a little surprised and a lot flattered. “Wait, is that when he locks himself in our pantry for half an hour each Friday?”

Sugawara laughs. “He’s been asking for my advice for years and I don’t think he’s going to stop soon. I thought you knew, actually.”

“Well, I knew you taught him a lot concerning Volleyball, but this sounds like you did a lot more. Tell me the details, Sugawara-san.”

Sugawara grins cheekily, checking to see if Tobio’s still nowhere to be seen.

“When he spent the weekend at your place for the first time he asked me all kinds of questions. I’m the one who picked out the sleepwear he brought. He usually slept only in boxers or nothing at all depending on the temperature.”

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks. “I see. Thank you’s are in order.”

“Uhuh,” Sugawara winks. “Nothing to thank me for. You two deserve each other.”

“That just sounded mildly threatening,” you joke just as Tobio returns, threading his arm through yours.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your weekly talks with Sugawara-san,” you lean into him. “And the fact that you only wear sleepwear because of him.”

Tobio blushes a soft red. “You said you liked my Volleyball Pajamas.”

“I do. They are adorable.”

Tip me?

[sorryimananti-romantic]

saurrr what do we need to do to get that deleted scene??? 👀🤲🏼

beg.

LJHDFJGHKJ KIDDING you asked and i shall serve with not only the deleted scene but two bonus scenes:

from the fic guerrilla (serialkiller!dr.yunho x writer!reader)

wc: 4k

notes: surgeon yunho who just so happens to be a serial killer (a vigilante with morals if you must), reader is a writer working on gory crime fiction novels, they are housemates, fluffy stuff, talks about therapy, questionable morals, honestly very questionable morals, smut at the end (minors and anyone not comfortable with dark themes do not interact with the third section

"oh, you're home. almost didn't hear you," you said when you spotted yunho coming down the stairs. in the past few months, you had learned quite a few habits of his, one being that he could be as silent as a feather at times.

which was a bit scary, but you supposed it was just a natural skill of his.

"of course you didn't. you were humming something while you cooked," yunho stood near the counter, looking around and you muttered a silent curse- no wonder you didn't hear him. "need help?"

"yeah, if you could just set the table," you said and yunho obeyed instantly, taking out the utensils and scooping the dishes while you told him about your day- mail arrived, you befriended a stray cat that has now found home in your backyard, you went shopping for grocery today and got the stuff yunho had requested you to buy for him.

and while you ate, yunho said his thanks for saving him a trip to the grocery store and told you about his day- he went to assist a professor from his previous job in a complicated surgery upon his request. you told him he looked fond of that professor and he admitted that he owed most of his surgery skills to him and he often called him to assist him.

and just like that, you finished your meals and you started clearing the kitchen and washing the dishes while he went to the backyard to bring the laundry inside. it was the weekend and you wondered if yunho would join you in the living room just to hang out or watch something. or would he be too tired and just say goodnight and leave?

he stayed. he slumped down on the couch and took out his phone, probably responding to texts. you silently joined on the other end and turned on your laptop which opened to your document and reminded you of the question that had been looming over your head the entire day. you glanced at yunho but he seemed absorbed in his phone and you sighed- maybe you'll just ask him tomorrow-

"is something the matter?"

he didn't have to be that observant. you straightened. "nothing. just wanted to ask you something related to the book- but it can wait."

"you can ask me, y/n."

"you seem busy and tired, though..." your voice faltered when he shot you with a challenging look.

"never too busy for your weird questions."

"oh," you laughed a little and when he set his phone aside to focus on you, you stifled a satisfactory smile. "okay, so remember what i told you last time? the cop who's also a criminal, he's targeting the main character- the detective now. he finally baits her into entering the abandoned warehouse where she thought she would find some druggies."

"yes, and the warehouse doesn't have much space to run because of the abundance of shelves so when she's looking around, she keeps thinking she's hearing something- which is actually the criminal riling her up and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike."

"yes," you smiled. "now, he's going to attack, and another unfortunate cop who accompanied our detective is going to get killed by him while trying to protect the detective. so that gets the detective all messed up in her head and she's lost her gun but there's a dagger lying on the floor- remember the dagger i showed you for reference?"

yunho nodded and you continued. "the detective aims to hurt the criminal, not kill, but the lines must be blurred so when she is questioned about her motives, she wonders if she actually intended to kill the man."

"because there's the fact that the criminal is her colleague and that could have worsened her anger. she might have actually wanted to kill him," yunho recalls.

"exactly," you shift in your position so your legs are tucked under you. "now... where would the detective stab him? self defense, anger, confusion, all these elements."

yunho hummed in thought, his eyes running all over your body. something you had noticed that whenever he answered one of your questions, he would envision them on you. that might have made you a flustered mess in the beginning when his eyes would fixate on a spot on your body but it didn't really bother you anymore- you supposed as a surgeon, he got lost in vivid imagination or something.

"there's quite a few ways we could achieve that, but i think if you can narrow it down, it might help."

"somewhere near the heart? throat? something that would disarm the criminal immediately," you said.

yunho nodded slowly, his eyes fixated on your neck now and you subconciously adjusted your shirt. he finally met your eyes. "i think this spot might do the trick."

yunho fisted his hand but outstretched the index finger. "suppose this is the tip of your dagger, right? you would want to stab right here," he turned his hand to touch the space between his collarbones. "this spot is tricky because for males and females, it's not the same."

"oh?" you touched that same spot on yourself. "how so?"

"males usually have a thicker clavicle," yunho explained, stretching the collar of his shirt to expose his collarbones. "the gap between the two may be wider but it's definitely easier to stab a man here than a woman."

you touched your own collarbones for reference in confusion and when yunho had enough of your struggling, he scooted closer and touched the space between your collarbones with his finger. "this part. v-shaped, right? it's a bit straighter for men. so if your criminal was a woman, i'd have you stab them... right here," yunho trailed his finger up and dug it in that spot. you nodded. "the clavicle is a bit narrower in females too," he trailed his finger along your collarbones. "and positioned at a more diagonal angle-"

he didn't realise when he started rambling but when he met your eyes, he found them wider than usual and your lips parted, and only then did he realise the proximity between you two. you gulped and he felt that movement on his finger still situated on your skin and his own lips parted in surprise, his mind going black when your gaze fell down there.

and if that damned phone hadn't buzzed repeatedly, he would have done something about you. he definitely would have, ignoring all his strict rules, because there was no way you didn't feel a certain way about him. he was sure you did, especially now. especially when he drew back to check his phone and heard you let out a deep breath. you had been holding your breath all this time.

"i, uh... i have to take this call," he pursed his lips.

"of course," you nodded.

"i hope that cleared your confusion?" yunho dared to ask and when you stifled a smirk, he got his answer.

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

[bonus scene that takes place after the big revelation]

it's been a long time since you woke up feeling like there was a weight on your chest, unable to breathe properly, hair matted to your face and your head spinning.

a nightmare. no-

a memory.

you checked the time- it was almost 4. you shook your head- maybe you should have pushed yourself to stay awake until you passed out so you could have a dreamless sleep. you always slept better when you were tired- not the healthiest habit, but that was how you overcame your sleeping struggles as a teen when your father passed away.

would you have to do this all over again?

you managed to walk to the toilet to wash your face, staring at the sink for the longest time and letting the water run through your hands as if it could wash away the weight of what you had done before finally snapping out of it and turning the tap off, exiting the toilet to go to the kitchen. you took a deep breath and sat yourself on a stool in the kitchen, taking small sips from your glass.

you could not go back to sleep now. not anytime soon.

you briefly wondered when yunho got home- was he home yet? lately, you had been going to sleep at odd times so you didn't run into him much, but you couldn't sleep for long- you would always wake up, just like you did tonight. the nightmares were plaguing your rest hours-

the glass slipped from your hand and crashed on the floor loudly, making you squeal a little. you winced at how loud it sounded in the dead hours of the night and you tried to find a spot on the floor that was not covered with shards- how exactly were you going to put your feet on the floor with all the glass around you-

"y/n? is everything okay?"

you sighed internally. "did i wake you up? i'm sorry, the glass just slipped."

yunho turned on a light and surveyed the mess. "stay right there, okay? don't move- i'll get the broom."

you nodded and waited until he started cleaning the shards from around you, making sure he got everything and then running to your room quickly to get your slippers. you thanked him, taking the broom and dustpan from him this time, spotting a tiny shard at the other end of the kitchen.

"were you asleep? did i wake you up?"

"i got home like, an hour ago," yunho said. "was just scrolling a bit. are you okay, though? you look pale."

"yeah, i'm okay," you put the broom in a corner and washed your hands. when you dried them and turned, you noticed yunho watching you intently. "what?"

"did you have a nightmare or something?"

he always knew. somehow, he always saw through you.

"is it that obvious?" you let out a short laugh. "do i look like a mess?"

"i mean..." yunho stifled a smile. "you usually do look like a hot mess..."

"lovely to hear that," you nodded and he grinned, stepping forward and encasing you in his arms as he peered down at you.

"won't you talk to me about it?"

"what's there to talk about?" you cocked your head and yunho's heart sank a little at the way your eyes went blank. "i killed a man, yunho. again. of course i will have to live with the consequences now."

yunho licked his dry lips and he knew you had zoned out at the way your gaze was fixated on his face. "can i ask you something?"

it took you a moment to come back to your senses and nod. yunho took a deep breath. "do you regret killing the man who almost killed your father?"

"everything went wrong after i did that-"

"but if you could go back in time, would you change that?" yunho asked.

"no." you were sure you would make the same decision. "because if i had not done that, he would have killed all of us."

"so... do you regret killing the man from a few days ago?"

"not at all," your response was quick. "he was going to kill you. i would have done the same, no matter who it was."

yunho brought his hand to your cheek and caressed it, his eyes full of love. you continued, "but that doesn't change the fact that i have killed people."

"i know," yunho said. "you will have to live with that for the rest of your life. it won't get easier, it will always hang like a noose over your head. but if you keep all of this to yourself... it will only get harder, y/n."

"i just... i don't know what to do," you exhaled a deep breath, looking away. "i feel so helpless. you've done so much to help me, hell, you almost took the blame for it, but still..."

"all these feelings are normal," yunho took your hand and started guiding you to the couch in the living room. you both settled down close to each other with yunho's hand on your shoulder, his thumb caressing your neck. "but if it's troubling you to the point of nightmares... why didn't you tell me earlier, y/n? if there's anyone who can relate to you..."

"it's you, i know," you smiled a little. "and i'm okay, for the most part, but for a while that night, i really thought it was all over, and that scared me so much, yunho."

"it's okay-"

"it's not the remorse that's eating me up, see?" you let out a short laugh. "it's... the fact that it's not the remorse eating me up but my selfishness when i was scared that you were going to take the blame and i would have to pick up the pieces of what was left all by myself. that your friends would hate me for the rest of our lives. that you would rot away in prison, like my father did, and i would never get to touch you again. it's wrong, isn't it? that this is the product of my nightmares and i don't need to sleep to feel this? does this make me a monster, yunho?"

if yunho could tell you how he felt at that moment, perhaps you would cower away, but he just had to ask you something. "do you still think you're the monster when i'm right in front of you?"

you looked at his unbelievably soft gaze and furrowed, somewhat confused brows. the dim lights from the kitchen softened half of his face, but even the shadows on his face didn't change who he was. you found his hand on your neck and held it, pressing your lips against his palm.

"i have killed more people than i can count, y/n," yunho continued, his voice pained. "but if that means that the world is somehow safer, i will continue down this road no matter how weary i get. does that make me a bad person or a good person? i realised long ago that i needed to stop categorising myself into one category, however... i sure as hell wouldn't call myself a good person," he let out a short laugh and you shook your head.

"if you weren't a good person, you wouldn't have tried to take the blame for me that night. and on that note... what were you thinking when you did that? without hesitation? can you imagine how wrong it could have gone if you got caught at that time-"

yunho leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss and thought it took you by surprise initially, you quickly melted in his grasp, your heart fluttering uncontrollably at the way he held and kissed you. when he drew back, he lingered for a few moments before looking at you.

"i would have done that anyway, no matter the consequences," he told you and you smiled sadly. "for you... i would do it again. so will you listen to me? will you let me help you?"

you nodded and he pulled you in for a hug. you scooted closer, almost sitting in his lap as you wrapped your arms around his waist, fisting the material of his sweatshirt.

"i know how hard it is to live with what we have done, no matter how we feel about it or think we feel about it," he caressed your head. "we think we have it all figured out. we think we'll be okay but really... it's still a human life, isn't it?"

you nodded- he was absolutely right.

"i harboured so much negativity in myself when my parents were killed. i thought if i would face their killer, i would not hesitate to kill him, but i did, and it cost me my sanity for a good while. if it weren't for hongjoong and mingi helping me figure out everything that was going on... i would have been so lost. i still think i am- the twisted, monstrous part in me is okay with what i do-"

"please don't call yourself a monster," you whispered. "you're anything but."

yunho embraced you tighter. "thank you for believing in me, but you should also tell yourself that."

and that's when it all made sense, what yunho was trying to tell you. it wasn't okay, it probably never will be, and it never should be. that's what you have to live with, and that's what will ultimately differentiate you from the actual monsters in this world.

"how do i convince myself i'm not the same as them?"

"that's what i'm here for," yunho laughed and you joined, drawing away from him. "but actually... i have a suggestion for you."

and that's how he told you all about mingi, the psychiatrist and the therapist who would never judge you no matter how dark your deepest thoughts and desires were. the person who would be able to understand your situation better than anyone else in this world since he was also a part of what yunho did. and most importantly, the person who wouldn't convince you to be someone you weren't. someone who wouldn't put you high on a pedestal or push you to your lowest. you adored the look on yunho's face when he told you all about his friend and you thought that mingi must be an admirable person if yunho believed in him so much.

and that night, he made a vow to you- he would always be there for you. he would be there to help you with the nightmares because he wished someone was there for him too. he would make sure you get proper sleep, and how couldn't you, if you were in his arms, safe and secure? how couldn't you, if you were showered in kisses before you fell asleep? how couldn't you, if you were enveloped in his scent that felt like home now?

the nightmares wouldn't easily stop but at least you wouldn't feel alone now, and that was all that mattered.

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

[something romantic but unhinged bc man now that i'm writing guerrilla again i wish i made it even longer LMAO]

[mdni!] [and do not interact if you're not comfortable with dark themes]

"yunho, what if your dark fantasies take over while we're having a moment and you kill me or something?"

yunho almost choked on the last sips of hot chocolate you had made him and he put the cup down on the table before shutting his eyes, inhaling and then opening them to glare at you.

"what stupid book are you reading now, babe?"

you pursed your lips in guilty admission. "you don't need to know that."

it had been a good few months into your relationship with yunho now, and he knew to expect odd questions like these way before that. when you first moved in, the questions had been related to your crime fiction wip but now that you were comfortable with him...

too comfortable, he thought. you couldn't ask something like this while you were seated so casually, defenceless across the couch with your legs in his lap while you used your tablet probably to edit your current draft.

"but do you think it happens? do you have moments like those when you... you know."

"when i what?" yunho smirked. he could play this game.

you immediately knew the mood had changed when his eyes glinted playfully. one thing about yunho was that no matter how strange or ridiculous your questions were, he would always answer.

"i won't judge you, i promise," you laughed a little. "but do you ever want to? or do you think others do?"

"words. i need you to say it out loud," yunho sat back cockily while his hand rested on your thigh, squeezing it almost suggestively.

and you knew it could only go one way from here. one thing about yunho was that no matter how strange or ridiculous your questions were, he would always answer-

practically. whenever he could, practically.

"if you're about to see if you feel like killing me right now, no thanks. and for your information, i can fight back."

"can you?" yunho scoffed.

"i've killed two men."

yunho laughed mockingly at that. "two. such a cute number."

your heart sank at that but you tried to lighten the situation. "okay, yeah, i should probably stop reading stupid books-"

"do you want me to check and see, though?" yunho cocked his head dangerously, removing his hand from your thigh only to hold your hand and pull you closer.

"geez, you really take answering my questions so seriously," you teased. of course he would never hurt you, but the thought of where this could lead to excited you in too many ways and you internally slapped yourself. "i guess i'll find the answer if i live to tell the tale?"

yunho pulled you properly in his lap, one hand stationed across your legs to keep you close to him while the other hand stayed on your neck, his thumb caresseing your adam's apple. you loved putting yunho in this headspace, when his gaze darkened as he thought about all the ways he would mess with you.

"do you know how easy it is to take someone's life if you press this wrong?" yunho pushed your adam's apple with his thumb just a fraction. "even just a little pressure can make it difficult to breathe."

you twisted away from him to put your tablet away and then put your own hand on his neck to feel his adam's apple. you pressed it a little just like he had demonstrated and nodded in understanding.

"it's ironic then, isn't it?" yunho looked up at you. "that some of the most sensitive spots on a human are around there?"

before you could ask him to elaborate, he pulled you closer to kiss you on the side of your neck and you gasped when you realised where this was going. he didn't stop there, though, no. he flipped you effortlessly so your back was flat on the couch and he was on top of you. before you could process anything, he was back to peppering kisses along your neck, planting a rather long one right on your adam's apple before finding your sweet spot and continuing to kiss and suck there.

your back arched in pleasure when one of his hands went to hold your waist but found your bare skin instead, your shirt having ridden up. you squirmed under him, one hand at the nape of his neck. when he was satisfied after earning a loud moan from you, he drew back to admire the bruising mark on your neck.

and then he grinned at your breathless form.

"that was so out of the blue," you laughed.

"i'm nowhere near done though," yunho kissed your temple, trailing his lips down along the angles of your face and then kissing your jaw sweetly. you brought your limp arm up to fist his shirt and crash your lips on his because he should stop teasing you already. yunho smiled into the kiss before responding enthusiastically and you tasted chocolate on his lips which made you hum in satisfaction.

yunho took that as his cue to escalate things further. while he kissed you, he let his hand travel down your body until it reached the waistband of your shorts. he broke the kiss to look at you and make sure you were okay and when you nodded, he pulled them down a bit to slide his hand down and he looked at you in surprise.

"you're soaking wet," he laughed a little. "tell me, which part turned you on?"

you slapped his hand and he laughed louder, pecking your lips and drawing away to lock eyes with you just in time to see your reaction when he slid a finger along your slit. he captured your gasp in another kiss and soon, things got all heated up. the sound of your moans were swallowed in his kisses as he slid two fingers knuckle-deep inside you and started thrusting them, curling them inside to earn loud gasps from you.

"so responsive," he praised, trailing kisses down your neck again and finding another spot to suck at. it was good that you mostly stayed at home, you thought. he had a thing with marking you and you could only imagine how much a hassle it would have been to cover it on a daily basis.

"yunho," you gasped when his thumb started circling your clit. it hadn't even been that long that you started getting more physical but he sure knew all your buttons. "please."

"please what?" he breathed against your adam's apple, reminding you once again how this all started.

"i'm so close," you moaned.

"already?" he tsk-ed, kissing the protruding spot on your neck. "how badly do you want it?"

you cupped his face and kissed him in answer, your tongues colliding in the passionate makeout which only sent another wave of arousal through your body and you shivered against him. he knew you were close so he drew apart and made you rest your head against the cushion again.

"you asked me about my dark fantasies, right?" yunho almost whispered and you nodded, anticipating what was next. "not the darkest fantasy, but a good start- choking."

you frowned- choking was pretty common... no?

"there's a very subtle difference in choking for pain and choking for pleasure," yunho explained, his hand around your neck now, his other hand still rubbing your clit in circles, his fingers pumping inside you slowly. "and sure, choking is common, but sweetheart..."

yunho pressed the sides of your throat for a second experimentally and you gasped. "feel that? see how everything you feel inside you becomes heightened but your senses grow numb?"

"yeah," you breathed, squirming under him- you were almost there. "pleasure."

"and if i pressed like this," he said, gently squeezing from the front- so gently that you almost didn't feel anything. "it would be to kill you. how faint is the line between pain and pleasure, y/n?"

you didn't realise when yunho sped up his fingers thrusting inside you but you were almost out of breath now and when he flicked your clit and provided the friction it needed to get over the edge, right when you could feel your orgasm beginning to wash over you, he leaned in to whisper in your ear-

"do you think i have dark fantasies like that?"

and you almost wouldn't have heard him because he pressed the sides of your throat, choking you right as your orgasm washed over you and your vision darkened, your back arching against him. everything was so heightened- yunho on top of you, his fingers inside you, his hand palming your clit, the other hand squeezing your throat like a choker necklace, his lips on your temple in a kiss, his thighs caging you, but the most heightened of all-

his question, the itch in your brain yet to be scratched. it clouded your thoughts as you took deep breaths to recover from the orgasm, as he kissed you everywhere and drew back to clean his fingers with tissues.

"so..." you breathed. "you won't be answering that, will you?"

he only smirked. "answering it would kill all the fun."

[xveenusx]

You

Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Request- John b's little sister grew up with JJ. Both boys are protective of her but when John B and Sarah leave on the boat, she only has JJ. She realizes she has feelings for him, not knowing he feels the same.

Authors note: I decided I could give you guys a sprinkle of fluff and slight smut after the last two pieces! This takes place at the beginning of season 2 where they believe Sarah and John b are dead.

Also, someone complained about the length of my pieces. I know they’re long but it’s just my writing style. I like for the readers to feel what the main character is feeling. If the length bothers you, then don’t read it!

_______________

Angry.

That’s how I felt.

At myself. At my dad. At John B.

When we first lost our dad, it didn’t feel real. I waited outside on the steps of the chateu hoping to see him come back on his boat. Suddenly, hours turned to days which turned into months and the hope that filled my chest shrank bit by bit until I no longer sat outside.

Instead, John B and I did what we could. After successfully evading CPS, we decided it was best to lay low. That was the thing about us, we always managed to make the best out of a shitty situation because let’s face it, being born on the cut was shitty situation after shitty situation.

Unfortunately, it felt like the stress had finally caught up to me. Being surrounded by unfamiliar people caused a bitter sense of panic to fill my very core. My anxiety had amplified tenfold as the once out going girl became completely sheltered.

It was safer that way. At least, if I isolated myself, losing someone else won’t hurt as bad as this. Because as long as I had my brother, everything else was manageable.

Losing my dad was tough, almost impossible but at least I had John B.

Until, I didn’t.

It didn’t hit me until I saw the boat capsize with my brother and Sarah in it. I was truly an orphan, in every sense of the word.

My knees had given out as every emotion crashed into my body like a violent tsunami. A silent scream leaving my body as I could no longer hold myself up.

Familiar arms caught me just as I was about to hit the floor, the rain pounded into my skin like thousands of needles. As I drew in a sharp breath, my voice impossible to find, a delicate smell of sex wax and salt filled my nose.

JJ.

“Please breathe. I need you to take a b-breath,” He pleaded, his voice shook in obvious grief. He had just lost his brother too.

I couldn’t seem to do what he was asking. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing for this nightmare to end, but thought after thought slammed into my head repeatedly. My chest squeezed tightly, so tight that I began to claw at it, desperate to relieve the tension.

Yet, nothing seemed to work. I could see him now, his image blurred due to the tears falling from my eyes. His mouth was moving but I couldn’t hear anything.

My fingers slowly started to cramp due to the lack of oxygen from my inability to calm down. The tidal wave known as anxiety pulled me deep, my vision slowly becoming black before my unconscious body falls limp in the arms of my brother’s best friend.

_________

I hated this sign.

My eyes glared at the makeshift headstone my friends made for Sarah and John B that was carved into the tree.

It served as another reminder that my brother left me.

I’ve become close friends with anger and sadness.

Our friends tried to give me a sense of stability and normalcy, one that I’ve been lacking since the moment our dad died. Kie always stopped by bringing left overs from her parent’s restaurant. Pope would help me with my homework and go over scholarship options. I knew he was trying to help me plan for the future, but we both knew he was the only one that could really get out. I welcomed the distraction and tried to enjoy the small bubble I’ve created for myself.

And then, there was JJ.

JJ was special.

He all but moved in to the chateau, never leaving me alone in my thoughts for too long. He took up a serving job at some kook club to feed us and always brought me with him. I would sit in a small corner throughout, his shifts and enjoy his company.

In a way, I think it was for him just as much as it was for me. We had both bonded over the loss of my brother and it caused an invisible string to tether us together in a way that almost felt intimate.

I blew out a breath.

Standing up, I wiped off the dirt from my thighs and flexed my hands. JJ was on his way to pick me up and take me to the annual bonfire here on the island.

When he asked me, my first reaction was an immediate no. I had avoided going near large groups of people since they believed my brother to be a murder, therefore, making me guilty by association. Just the thought of surrounding myself around those people made my skin itch.

But I also knew that we were both desperate to feel the closest thing to normal that we could find.

What he didn’t know was that feeling of normalcy could only be achieved when he was with me. Breathing was easier when he was with me, living was easier.

The familiar sound of a bike engine caused my stomach to flutter with nerves.

“You ready?”

Inhaling deeply, I turned around to see JJ leaning against his bike looking every bit as handsome as the first time I laid eyes on him. He was grinning, something he reserved just for me, with a toothpick on one side.

If he was here, then I’d be able to do anything.

“I go where you go.”

JJ’s blue eyes shined at my words. He shot me his infamous smirk that nearly caused the butterflies in my stomach to erupt.

“You got that right. Get on the bike, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

My brain was my biggest enemy. It had a tendency to disrupt whatever sense of peace I had and destroy it with every self sabotaging thought I’ve ever had.

In this case, my brain wanted to know just how many girls sat there before me.

Noticing my hesitation, JJ raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “What’s up?”

“I just don’t want to get cooties from all the girls you let on this thing.”

He rolled his eyes. “Get your ass on the bike.”

My feet moved towards the bike as I mumbled under my breath. Stopping in front of him, JJ brushes some loose strands of my hair out of my face before grabbing the helmet that was on the seat.

I reached for it but JJ shoved my hands away, shooting me a flat look. Huffing, I stood there as JJ placed the helmet on my head, tightening the strap under my chin.

“Why do I have to wear a helmet and you don’t?”

“Because you matter.” His response was immediate.

Speechless, I said nothing more as he continued with the unnecessary pampering before he finally let me on the bike. Revving the engine, JJ kicks up the stand before reaching behind and grabbing my arm, settling it around his waist. He tapped my thigh twice to signal we were going and we took off.

I clung to his body, watching as the greenery blurred into one large mass, my thoughts doing the same.

You matter.

You matter.

You matter.

But what did that mean? What did it mean to him? What did I mean to him?

Because, I knew exactly what he meant to me.

There were small moments we shared. Our eye contact would stay on each other for a beat too long or his hands would linger just a minute longer than normal.

I knew, at least for me, our friendship had reached a very blurred line. My feelings for him seemed to consume me but I couldn’t tell how he felt. No one ever could, JJ didn’t let them.

He would say things like this that would completely throw me out of the loop. So we settled into a routine, one that resembled a relationship yet we weren’t in one.

The familiar cackle of the fire and shouts of excitement signaled that we were close to the party. Unease leaked into my bloodstream as I flexed my fingers into JJ’s shirt, the nerves sky rocketing.

JJ parked next to some truck but my focus was broken. My eyes jumped all over, taking in the scene all while trying to remind myself to breathe. People were shot gunning while others were playing beer pong, kooks and pouges alike.

Everyone was laughing and smiling, but it all seemed foreign to me. This was what I used to do, when things weren’t as complicated and dark as they were now. It felt almost wrong to go dancing and drinking when my life was in shambles.

A small touch to my wrist pulled me out of my thoughts as I turned to face JJ. A look of concern painted his face as he pressed his fingers against my wrist, checking my pulse.

“JJ, I’m fine.” I said exasperated but secretly, I adored how he took care of me. It made me feel like to him, I was different than all the other girls.

I just couldn’t decipher if he took care of me out of obligation to John B or because he actually cared for me.

He picked up this habit after I passed out in his arms. JJ always brushed his fingers against the inside of my wrist, just to double check that I wasn’t going to pass out again.

My anxiety was yet another monster I had to tackle after I lost John B and JJ was the only one that could calm me down. He weighed me down like an anchor.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his fingers lifting my chin causing my eyes to meet his.

His gaze ran over every inch of my face before a small satisfied smile played his lips.

“Do you believe me now?”

JJ shot me a wink, before cupping my face gently. “I’ll be back with tequila, don’t move.”

A small laugh left my mouth. “JJ, I don’t hang out with anyone else.”

“I’m all you can handle anyways, baby.”

My stomach dipped at the term of endearment. Laughing it off, I shooed him away and within seconds people were calling out his name, tugging him into their groups.

He seemed relax—happy even—to be surrounded by familiar people that I’m sure made him feel normal. I wanted him to have that, god, did I want him to have that.

So I ignored the nausea that nipped at my throat and spent the next five minutes looking around, hoping to spot Pope or Kie with no luck.

JJ deserved some time that didn’t involve watching me.

Only, I didn’t expect him to disappear for the rest of the night.

Hours later, I pushed passed the sweaty, overheated bodies as the bass of the music trembled through the air rattling my chest. The mass of bodies caused a layer of sweat to cover my body the further I went into the crowd. Intense rap music was being blasted instantly getting a reaction by the drug induced people around me.

Just by a simple sweep of the overcrowded property, I gave it a solid half hour before the cops showed up.

A large figure stumbled into me, beer sloshing onto my top. I gasped, stepping back slightly wincing at the cold liquid dripping down my stomach.

"Sorry," He slurred before stumbling back into the mosh pit of raging teens.

A familiar laugh rang out and almost immediately my body reacted to it. It was odd. After years of hearing his voice and his laugh, you would think I'd have gotten used to it by now, but no.

The effect he had on my body left me stunned.

My eyes were drawn to him instantly. I blocked everything else out.

His head was tilted back as he belted out another laugh. JJ was leaning against a wall with a hand holding a beer bottle loosely and the other moving as he spoke animatedly to the group that surrounded him.

His sun touched skin complimented his bright blue orbs that shined with a child-like wonder. JJ’s golden colored locks were thick and fell into a messy heap on his head, loose strands brushing against his forehead.

The black cut muscle tee he wore displayed every muscle as he continued to move his arms to accompany his storytelling.

JJ Maybank was a sight for sore eyes.

He was still talking rapidly when he glanced up and locked eyes with mine. JJ’s ocean eyes shined as he shot me a megawatt smile nearly sending me to my knees. He stopped mid-conversation and motioned for me to come over, his eyes once again gleaming with a unspoken level of affection.

I remained frozen. Sometimes this happened. I got overwhelmed by just how much I needed him.

JJ managed to knock me off my feet a solid five times a day. Each time welcomed even more than the last.

He bit his lip, stopping a smile as he bid his friends goodbye and began walking over to where I stood, running a hand through his hair messily.

I opened my mouth, not knowing what to say when a manicured hand rested itself on his stomach, stopping him in his tracks.

“Haven’t see you in awhile. Where ya been?”

Stacey Williams had this thing about her.

What it was, I couldn’t say, but it was enough for JJ to keep going back for more. She was the only other girl in his life that he gave a fraction of his attention to.

That fact alone made me nervous.

Just walk away, JJ. Please just walk away.

Instead, he took a seat next to her and shot her smile that was reserved for me.

People stumble between us, blocking my view but I could still hear them conversing.

“You know me, Steis. I’m here, I’m there. Just doin’ me.”

She let out a giggle causing me to roll my eyes. He’s really not that funny.

“You haven’t been answering my calls. I figured, tonight you could come over and we could talk.”

My stomach tied itself in knots at the silence on his end. It was almost like he was contemplating going.

“I -I can’t tonight. I came with John b’s sister.”

I winced. That’s all I was to him?

I could see Stacey lean forward and slip her hand along the open slit of his muscle tee. “She follows you around like a lost puppy, JJ. It’s almost sad if it wasn’t so weird.”

I saw him shake his head. “It’s not like that, we’re both just dealing with everything the best way we can.”

Stacey rolled her eyes before she took a sip of her drink, “JJ, your hot but please tell me you’re not that blind. The girl is basically in love with you.”

Judging by the way JJ froze, I now knew that I misjudged every interaction we’ve had to this point. He didn’t even notice how I felt.

“What-I mean-no. She’s just a girl that needs help. I mean, come on. She’s just John B’s sister.”

The only thing more humiliating than finding out the person you want doesn’t want you, is finding out they were only there for you because of an obligation.

I wasn’t special to him. I was just John B’s little sister.

I think another part of me died right there, because yet again, I have lost another person I loved.

But this time, he wasn’t gone, no—he was right in front of me, but he might as well have been a million miles away or six feet under.

Eavesdropping is the quickest way to a broken heart. Words not meant for your ears strike your heart in a brutal assault until nothing remained.

Finally, the crowd that separated us moved and I stood there stupidly staring at him.

Feeling the weight of my gaze, JJ turned his head and his eyes widened before settling into a look of guilt.

I tore my gaze off of him and looked at her. The smug smile she wore told me she intended for me to hear what he had said.

My face heated, and I glanced down at the drink in my hand. How could I be so fucking stupid?

Ignoring the sickening twists in my stomach, I tossed back the strong liquor in my cup. The burning trail the tequila left is the feeling I decided to focus on.

Spinning around, my eyes searched for another cooler, desperate to keep the burning feeling going.

“Shit-Wait,” I could hear JJ shouting for me but I kept moving.

Finding a handle of tequila, I flicked the top off and took a pull. The bitter burn fell over my body with a fuzzy warmth.

JJ knocks the bottle out of my hand.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“Since when do you drink like that?” He asked.

“Go away, JJ. I don’t need you to babysit me anymore.”

“Listen, if this is about what I said-“

“You’re free, JJ,” my voice trembled with pain,” You don’t need to waste any more of your time on me.”

I grabbed a red solo cup, sniffing the contents, and just as I was about to chug it back, his hand slaps it out of my own.

“Will you stop fucking drinking that-“ JJ’s baby blues narrowed as he growled at me.

“What are you, my dad? You’re taking this baby sitting gig a little too seriously.”

It was, then I noticed how many eyes were on us. The music was still blasting, but no one was dancing.

My breathing picked up at the sudden attention. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand to distract my body from the ever growing panic that plagued my body.

JJ’s eye clock in on my nervous tic causing his glare to soften. A figure approaching pulled my focus off of him.

Topper strides over with a drink in his hand and a lazy smile. “Hey man-“

“Top, your wearing sandals bro. Step off.”

“I’m just saying man, she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

JJ’s eyes darkened as a threatening smile slowly graced his lips. “Wanna run that by me again?”

“I forgot that you pouges are missing a couple brain cells,” Topper lolled his head to the side and shot me a wink, “Since you’re clearly a bit slow, I’ll spell it out for you. She. Doesn’t. Want. To. Talk. To. You.”

“I dont remember you being this cocky with a gun to your head.” The words were spoken softly but the threat was clear.

A storm brewed in JJ’s eyes as the bright blue was replaced by something much darker.

My heart jumped at his tone and the look in his eyes made me swallow hard. Disgust filled me as heat began to build between my legs forcing me to press my thighs together.

Hands up on surrender, Topper shot me a look before heading back to his friends. JJ’s eyes stayed on him for a beat ensuring that he wouldn’t come back.

When he was satisfied, JJ moved towards me in quick strides making me yelp in surprise.

His ring covered hand grasped my upper arm and tugged me back to his bike. I shrugged out of his hold and crossed my arms across my chest, hoping it’ll keep a safe distance between the two of us.

I couldn’t think clearly when he was close.

“Listen-“

“No thanks.”

“If you would just-“

“Go away.”

“Can you please stop acting-“

“Why don’t you go back to Stacy? I’m sure she’d find this conversation enlightening.” I spat, shoving his reaching hands away.

“I dont want to talk to Sta-“

“Are you sure? You seemed to have a lot to say be-“

“Jesus Christ, would you just shut up?” JJ shouted with his hands in his hair.

My mouth opened and closed in shock.

“You’re the most frustrating person on this fucking island.” He growled, shaking his head in false amusement.

“Then why are you still talking to me?”

“Because it’s you.”

Throwing my hands up in defeat, I let out a bleak laugh. “What does that even mean? Stop pretending you care. Stop pretending to be my-“

“I wasn’t pretending.” He shook his head, the blue orbs pleading for me to understand,”Stacey was just saying shit to get a reaction-“

“She wasn’t wrong.”

He stopped talking and stared at me, almost confused.

My body trembled slightly with nerves as I prepared to finally expose every bit of my heart to the blue eyed boy in front of me.

“What she said—about how I feel about you. She was right. Anybody with two fucking eyes can see how I feel about you, except for you.”

I furiously wiped my eyes stop the tears from falling. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

“But now I know you only see me as John B’s little sister. It’s just humiliating that you chose to say that to Stacey instead of me.”

I was going to throw up. My stomach churned and swayed but I swallowed down the urge.

JJ let out a harsh sound, “I feel fucking guilty, okay? I feel guilty that I don’t see you the way I should. John B was my best friend and now I’m falling for his sister? It’s eating at me.”

“Then leave-“

“Shut up,” He snapped. “You’ve already got to say what you wanted. It’s my turn.”

My throat tightened as I braced myself for his confession.

“I look at you and I have to stop myself from kissing you even though it’s all I can think about.”

His eye contact seared into my very soul. I could feel it pierce my pounding heart.

“So you aren’t the only one that feels something.”

My heart was in my throat as I processed his words.

“But you said-“

“I lied.” He cut me off with a shrug and advanced towards me, clearly fed up with the distance I placed between us.

In a last ditched effort, I put up my hands to stop him in his tracks. I needed to think. I needed to breathe.

“Don’t touch me.” The plea itself was weak at best.

At the sound of my sob, JJ ignores my demand, and shoves my hands away, despite my weak attempt to keep him out of my space.

Instantly, his fingers curl themselves along my wrist and take note of my pulse. He let out a distressed sound from what I can only assume is the pounding of my pulse and whispers soothing words.

Taking in gulps of air, he slowly counts me down to a manageable pace of breathing. My shaking slowly begins to subside and my very focus is just on him.

Resting his forehead on mine, JJ whispers pleadingly, “Please stop crying.”

Another kiss lands on my nose. “I’m sorry.”

His request along with his sweet pleadings, causes my defenses to crumble down. Another sob tears from my chest as I relax into his embrace.

“I didn’t mean it.” He muttered, brushing my tears away with his thumb.

“Then why did you say it?” My words were soft, barely a whisper.

“Because she’s not important enough to know how I feel.”

Our eyes were glued to each other, a deep unknown longing singeing us together.

“You said I was just some girl.”

JJ tilted my head up, his fingers trailing softly along my bottom lip, “I meant my girl.”

“I have a lot of baggage,” I gave him one more shot at leaving.

“Good thing I have a truck.”

“But she-“

He shook his head, leaning down so there’s just a sliver of space between our lips, so close that we were inhaling each others breaths.

“You’re the only one I want.”

JJ bent down, his arms circling themselves directly below my ass, and picked me up causing me to shout out in surprise.

My hands curled onto each of his arms, my stomach fluttering at the flex of his muscles. He set me on the seat of the bike, his large calloused hands gripped my upper thighs tightly sending a wave of heat right to my core.

JJ’s half lidded eyes dart between my gaze and my lips. “Tell me to stop.”

The words never crossed my lips.

He let out a sound of satisfaction, tugging my legs open to stand in between them.

His ring covered fingers danced along the strands of my hair before nesting themselves at the root, gripping the nape tightly, "You’re mine.”

Heat instantly swarmed my belly as I drastically tried to collect my thoughts. My lips trembled as he hovered over me, his figure towering over my small frame.

JJ swiped his tongue along my parted lips before biting gently. Instantly, my body jolted forward and we were chest to chest, perfectly aligned.

My grip on his biceps tightened as I tremble with anticipation.

Finally, he pressed his lips to mine, slowly guiding our kiss. Gripping my hair tighter, he tilts my head sliding his tongue inside.

A small whimper escaped my lips causing a groan to erupt from him. Almost lazily, he pulled back slightly and pulled my bottom lip into his, sucking softly.

White hot lust seared itself into my blood. I let out a whine and pushed myself up, pressing my lips to his, desperate for another taste of JJ.

My blood was pounding in my ears as I tugged him closer. Almost lazily, I teased his mouth open and slid my tongue inside. Humming with desire, I gently sucked on his tongue causing him to flex his grip on my thighs.

JJ pulled back giving me the opportunity to catch my breath. His fingertips left a heated trail along my face as he caressed every inch.

He shook his head, laughing to himself softly,” It’s you. It’s always been you.”

______________

I love sassy JJ. Sorry for the delayed upload, I got into a car accident and am just now starting to get better:)

Please let me know what you think!! Next piece will be yummy smut with Rafe

[keruimi]

Your Dream

Pairing: Obanai Iguro x reader

Warnings: Mention of Sexual Abuse, Death, Total Angst

Note: It has a similar plot with my other Obanai Oneshot but why do I feel like this hurts more? Anyways, I am back to writing Kny especially when it's angst. And yes, it's Obanai Iguro again, my favorite character. The only reason I wrote this is because of the Obamitsu Angst in my fyp like stop reminding me, it really hurts. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it because I don't want to suffer alone.

____________________________

It was a normal life I live, working as an average kakushi who is mostly assigned in the kitchen.

When an odd request from Oyakata-sama changes my routine. When he assigned me to deliver meals to the new pillar, the Snake Hashira, Obanai Iguro.

At the age of eighteen, I finally experienced the anger of a Hashira with just my presence.

Knowing I was silent my whole life, I never found the reason why the Hashira glared at me on our first meeting.

I can't even count how many meals have been ignored or thrown whenever I deliver it to him.

Feeding the Snake Hashira became part of my routine that I completely memorize the route of his manor since he doesn't want anyone to be with him.

"Y/n, please take care of Obanai Iguro's health for me"

Those are the words I hold onto as I tolerated the cold treatment of the Hashira.

I lost track of the times I stay outside the freezing cold when he doesn't want to open his door for me.

It became more torturing when my heart suddenly beat faster when he started treating me differently after a year.

When he finally started to accept the food I cooked and delivered to his manor. Even if he can't finish it, I am thankful that it wouldn't become a waste anymore.

I knew our simple interaction progressed more when he allowed me to come closer to his space. Even a job that I shouldn't be doing, I'm doing it for him.

Like cleaning his manor, grinding ink for him, and helping him sort different poetry he has written.

Those simple moments introduce me to the new side of him that I slowly fell in love with.

It made me want to try harder until the walls he built around him completely fall down.

Until he can finally open his heart to me.

But that friendship I tried to stabilize, brick by brick, became nothing when he met her in the Ubuyashiki mansion.

My effort is almost nothing with how easy she manages to make him soften to her.

And I started to look for the reasons why.

The friendship I tried so hard to build is ruined and I felt like I went back to the first time we met.

The cautious aura that made it difficult for me to connect to him.

And I knew those thoughts are really happening when the food I brought is left untouched.

"I have already eaten with Mitsuri"

It was the sentence I kept hearing but I didn't stop doing my duty of making his food for him.

Because I learned to love taking care of him.

Those tasty delicacies I used to love cooking, change when I noticed he was disgusted just by the smell of it.

I adjusted so many things that I completely forgot what I really love.

Just to serve him right.

I prevent the cough that is threatening to leave my mouth as I grind ink for the Hashira I am serving.

As he wrote the letter he always sent to her.

It was breaking me. But I have no right to feel anything for him.

I already knew ever since, that a high-ranking warrior like him is not meant to love me.

But the weak side of me silently yearn that he can return it.

But seeing how in love he is with another woman. I knew I never had a place in his heart.

But just a mere presence that accompanies him in the garden.

I was just a shadow he would never notice. A person that serves him, and he would not change his perspective on me.

I was beside him so I could serve him, not to love him.

I wipe the single tear and escape my eyes before he notices as I force my body to move according to what he wishes.

While he remained clueless of my emotion that I tried so hard to get rid of.

The emotion that broke my heart when I saw the ring in his room while I was cleaning.

I could never look at the mirror just to see how my eyes portrayed the pain I felt when I saw it.

"Obanai-san really liked Mitsuri, don't you?" I mustered up the courage to speak my thoughts with a slight teasing tone as my back faced him.

I bit my lip to stop the sob that is threatening to be heard as I heard shuffling behind me.

"Obanai-san must treat Mitsuri-san right. Marriage is a dream for every woman. Especially when they will have a good man to love" I turned to him with a smile as I slowly opened my eyes and saw how soft his eyes turned because of embarrassment.

I don't know his past. I don't know what he loves.

I don't know Obanai Iguro.

But I know he has a hard time trusting others.

"I hope you both live a happy life" I managed to let out but it came out as a whisper as I took my things and left the room.

I froze the moment I left his manor as the tears I managed to subside finally escaped my eyes as I found myself crying on the way back to the village I live in.

I knew it was coming but my heart won't stop aching. My eyes can't stop crying. My mouth can't stop sobbing.

I really love him.

But he is not mine.

~•°•~

I lost track of the years when the female kakushi started to serve me.

The only woman I allow to enter my manor with the excuse of serving me.

Because I thought of changing myself even a little no matter how much I feel fear or disgusted by a female approaching me.

Because she gave effort to providing me with the most comfortable thing I needed. Especially during my meal time.

Starting with a simple window being opened, creating less flavorful food that I can tolerate.

I knew she was adjusting for me so I let her presence in my everyday life. Until that became like a friendship I was thankful for.

I can talk to someone about things without including battles.

I love her like a family.

That explained how my body felt frozen when I heard the news of what happened to her on the way to my manor.

The news of her being taken advantage of by a man who manages to memorize her route to my manor due to her everyday routine of walking her way there.

The anger I felt was unexplainable that I can find myself hurting a fellow human.

I knew humans can be evil, but I didn't know I could hate them more than I hate demons.

But I thought I made a mistake too.

If I just let her stay in my manor so she wouldn't exert too much energy just for my food, I could protect her better.

I know I'm slowly losing control when my self-restraint almost fell apart when I visited her quarters and I found her silently sitting at the corner of her room, hugging her knees.

As the spark in her eyes completely vanishes.

"She refused to eat nor let another woman near her. When the others approach her, she flinches. We don't know how to approach her anymore" the Kakushi who led me to her room stuttered out as I felt my hand grip the wooden door in anger.

Yet my eyes badly wanted to cry for her.

"Shinobu tried to check on her but she started to cry whether she was near. We just confirm the situation when the evidence of the sexual abuse was present in her body when we found her unconscious in the forest"

"Stop talking" I snap at him who immediately keeps his mouth shut as my snake hiss at him who scurried away.

"Y/n, it's me" I knocked on the door even though it was already open to make her aware of my presence in the room.

I don't know how I control my voice who I thought will be expressed in a trembled tone.

I am a man.

That is the first thought that came to my mind that made me decide to sit at the floor near the door.

"Obanai Iguro, you know me, right?" I spoke again and she kept her silence making my hands tighten its hold on my pants.

I'm not used to this side of her.

"Are you scared of me?" I asked slowly as silence occupied the entire room before she shook her head a little.

"May I come closer?"

With that question, I notice how her hands tighten on the blanket surrounding her making me release a shaky breath.

I never knew I was willing to hurt a fellow human just for her.

It made me want to make the man suffer badly. Worse than what he did to her.

"I'm sorry" I was left speechless when those were left on her lips and I immediately shook my head.

"Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong. It was them that wronged you" I am not good at words but I wanted to completely express my concern and pain for her.

I badly wanted to avenge her.

"It was me who should apologize because I was not there for you"

"I am not your responsibility..." She whispered and I shook my head once again, wishing for her to look at me even once so she can see how badly I am hurt for what she has experience.

How desperate I am to show she was not alone during this time.

"You are. Because you are important to me" I felt tears in my eyes as Kaburamaru slithered his way to her and slowly circled around her shoulder in a protective manner.

"I am tainted..."

"You're not" I firmly stated. "I am the tainted one between the two of us" those words quickly left my lips without any hesitations and she finally had the courage to look in my direction.

"So don't look at yourself that way. For me, you are still the same Y/n that accompanied me" I stuttered out as I tried to stabilize my breathing.

"I will seek justice for you. That's a promise"

I saw how a tear left her eyes as she looked outside the window. Removing her gaze on me.

"In our generation, marriage is every woman's dreams. Is a symbol of acceptance. Is where you will really feel you are loved and chosen by someone" she whispered.

"But in order to be chosen, you need to be pure, compliant, and well-mannered. That's what it takes to be a good wife" she stated as Kaburamaru nuzzled his head on her cheek when he noticed her difficulty in breathing.

I badly want to lend her my shoulder to lean on, an advice to make her mind clear. But in this situation, we both knew she just needed an ear to listen to her.

Someone to comfort her with just presence.

"But if you don't meet those requirements, you will be shunned by society. You will lose the qualification that a wife has."

"Right now, I will not be the wife of someone. I will not be married to a man I will dedicate my life to. Because I don't have my purity that only my husband should have." She whispered.

It was a painful word to state out loud. But right now, I can't read her.

Because she completely closed off her emotions.

"I don't fit the standard that a wife should have." She whispered as she buried herself in her blanket that hid herself from me.

"And it hurted so badly"

I closed my eyes when she spoke those words.

And I hate myself because I can't do anything for her but just torture her attacker.

"What else is your dream other than marriage?" I ask her as she closes her eyes to rest it for a little while.

"I want to meet the one that is willing to spend their entire life with me" it was a hopeful wish.

Silence occupy the room and I thought she fall asleep until she whispered the words I never expected to hear from her.

"I love you..." It was barely heard but I knew it was the words she hide for so long.

That made it known to me that I could grant that dream to her.

But I decide to give her the time she needs to heal from that painful experience.

She needs to heal.

Those are the thoughts I could only think of as I laid her down in her bed in a more comfortable position when I noticed she had finally fallen asleep.

But I never expected that it would be the last time I would see her with her eyes open.

Because when I came back the next day, the news of her death was the one that greeted me.

It was a nocturnal death because her heart failed during her sleep.

It finally felt like my whole world collapsed and my mind completely shut down.

If it weren't for Sanemi being beside me, I would have completely fallen on the floor as I kneel in front of her room.

It hurts.

I wanted it to stop.

But I know that nothing could make her happy anymore.

Because that nightmare would continue living within her for the rest of her life.

I never manage to cherish her smiles more. I only shrugged the moments I have with her because I thought we would stay that way.

That I never knew I was running out of time.

It took every cell in my body to approach her cold body that is covered with white cloth as I kneeled beside her.

I silently slid the ring that she found on my mansion in her finger as tears continued escaping from my eyes as Sanemi just stood behind me.

I lost someone who made me feel like I have the family I never have.

In this life, we were parted to heal.

But I will make sure that her wish will be granted.

"In this life" I started to whisper as my lips lean on her fingers where the ring stays.

"As God as my witness, I promise to take you as my bride. Give myself as your other half" I keep mumbling as I squeeze her cold hand as tears continue to fall from my eyes.

"That even death can never separate us. Because in our next life, I'll make sure, that I will utter this words to you again"

And in that life, you will be alive to hear it

[really-fanny-longbottom]

Second Chance

Pairings: Rhysand x Reader (platonic), Rhysand x Feyre

Summary: Rhysand tells Feyre about his favorite person.

Warnings: mentions of blood/abuse (nothing descriptive); Reader doesn't make a appearance.

Words: 2.4k

A/n: Hi! So this is my first fic ever. English is not my first language, so sorry if there's any misspelling. I've been wanting to publish this for a while but didn't have the courage but i finally got it, so here you go.

It was her fourth day in Velaris, and Feyre still couldn't believe how beautiful and magical the city of starlight was.

It felt like a dream that she could not wake up from, too good to be real, but there she was, staring out the window one more time.

The little noise from her stomach made her break her gaze and remind her that she hadn't had breakfast yet.

Feyre looked at Velaris one more time and then made her way to the dining room where Rhysand was already waiting for her.

He was immaculate as always in his black attire and with his perfect styled hair.

Rhysand was sipping on his tea as Feyre made her way towards the table, took a seat, and started serving herself.

"How did you sleep?" Rhysand asked while he looked at Feyre pouring food on her plate like he was assessing if it was enough or not.

"Very well," Feyre responded while meeting his gaze. "The city is beautiful, I couldn't stop looking at the view." She admitted after a moment of silence.

"Thank you. I take pride in it," He respondend while giving another sip on his tea.

Feyre looked at his hand and noticed the little mark that lay in the space between his thumb and his index finger. She had noticed that mark before but was never close enough to understand what it was. Now that she was sitting right next to him, she realized that it wasn't just a simple mark but tooth bites.

"Are those tooth bites?" She asked while pointing at his hand.

Rhys took a look at his hand, and a genuine smile appeared at his lips while setting his cup back on the table. "Yes, they are."

Feyre couldn't help her curiosity, and before she lost her courage, she asked, "How did you get them? Pissed someone off?"

Rhys chuckled, and for the first time, Feyre couldn't help but smile at the sound.

"Actually, a little girl did it," Rhysand said with nothing but amusement in his voice while he stared at the mark.

Shock and confusion settled on Feyre's face at his words, but the love in Rhys eyes and his smile while still looking at the mark, probably from remembering the memories from how he got them, didn't went unnoticed by her.

"A little girl bit you? What do you mean?" Feyre asked him again. She was so intrigued at this new information that she completely forgot about her breakfast.

Never breaking his smile, Rhys looked up again and met her gaze "Well she's not a little girl anymore but she was at the time she gave me these" He said while gesturing to his hand. He chuckled again. "It's a long story."

Feyre didn't even hesitate to respond, "I love stories, and now that i'm immortal, I have nothing but time, so please tell me about this little girl that bit you. I like her already." She finished with a smile playing on her lips.

Rhys gave a big laugh that went around the room, and at that moment, Feyre wanted to make him laugh more often just so she could hear that sound again.

Still with a smile on his lips, Rhys replied, "Her name is Y/N, she's my little sister."

Another set of shock and confusion settled at her face. He had another sister? She remembers Rhys telling about his mother and sister, about what happened to them at the hands of Tamlin's family, but he never mentioned your name before. So why didn't she meet you yesterday at dinner with the rest of the Inner Circle? Feyre went through her memories from last night's dinner, trying to remember if at any point one of them had mentioned your name, but she came up with nothing.

Seeing her confusion, Rhys explained, "You didn't meet her yesterday because Y/N it's not in Velaris at the moment. She's in Winter Court taking care of some matters for me, but she returns today, so you will meet her in few hours."

"Why didn't you mention her yesterday when you talked about your mother and your other sister?" Feyre asked, trying to understand why were you kept a secret until now.

Rhys smile faded, and a hint of sadness made his way into his features "Y/N it's not my biological sister. When I met her, I was already High Lord, and a century had passed since my family's deaths."

"How did you meet her then?" Feyre asked, her voice a little more quiet after the mention of Rhys family.

Rhys gave a long sigh before answering. "Me, Cassian, and Azriel found her one night. We were returning from one of the illyrian camp's, I don't know why but we decided to fly that night instead of winnowing like we always did but I'm glad we did otherwise we wouldn't have found her. On the flight back, one of Azriel's shadows detected movements near our border, so we decided to go check." Feyre noticed that Rhys got distant, like he was probably remembering that night as he spoke. He looked at her before continuing, "When we got there, we immediately smell blood. There wasn't a lot, but there was enough for the scent to linger in the air. We followed the scent, and that's when we found her. Laying on the floor, her eyes closed, not moving, and her dress had blood all over."

Feyre gasped, and Rhys continued. "She was so small and so skinny, we thought she was dead. But then, like she read our thoughts, she moved. So I tried to approach her, and when I touched her shoulder, she turned around so fast that I barely noticed and bit my hand." Rhys laughed at that, and the air became lighter. Feyre couldn't help but laugh at the thought of this little girl biting the hand of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian's history.

"And after that?" Feyre asked, amusement in her voice.

"After that," Rhys said while laughing more. "She got up and started running. Cassian tried to catch her, but she dogde and kicked him in the nuts."

"What??" Feyre said, disbelief all over her face and a big smile on her lips.

"Yep," Rhys confirmed. "She kicked him right there before passing beneath his legs and lauching at Azriel. He tried to catch her too but also failed. She managed to grab Az's leg and ripped Truth Teller from his hip right before pointing it at us." Rhysand concluded with the biggest smile on his face. For a split second, Feyre could've swear he looked like a proud father.

Feyre gasped again before replying, "No way! She actually did that?" She asked, shocked, and when he nodded, she asked again, "How old was she?"

Rhys started laughing again and shaking his head. "Seven. She was seven and was able to make three full-grown illyrians males feel like stupids." Still to this day, Rhys couldn't believe how you managed to dumbfound the three of them.

Feyre couldn't hold her laughter. "What happened after?"

Rhys locked eyes with her, amusement written all over his features. "You mean after she humiliated us?" Feyre gave a big belly laughter while nodding her head. "I said we weren't going to hurt her. She didn't quite believe us, so I went inside her head and saw what led her there."

Feyre's smile faded when she noticed how serious Rhys got and how a flash of anger passed his face. "What was it?" Feyre asked, afraid of the answer but wanting to know any way.

Rhys looked at his mark again. "She runned away from home. Her stepfather was abusive and used to hit her. Her mother died when she was just a babe, and she never met her father, so it was just the two of them. One day, she decided it was enough and ran."

By the cauldron, Feyre couldn't even begin to imagine what you had to went through so young.

Sure her life wasn't easier either but at least no one ever hited her. You must've been so scared.

"What happened to the male?" Feyre needed to ask, she needed to know.

Rhys didn't tear his eyes from her when he respondend firmly "Me, Cass and Az took care of him, after we found out who that bastard was."

"Good," Feyre replied whitout a trace of regret from her words, "And the blood on her clothes? From that night?" Feyre wondered, praying for that abusive male not be the caused of it.

"It was from the wounds she got while running away, we found her barefoot, and the dress she wore wasn't enough to protect her skin." Rhys said, and Feyre released a breath she didn't know she was holding, somehow relieved that the wounds weren't for a worse reason.

"How did you bring her here? You said she was pointing Truth Teller to the three of you." Feyre said.

"She was," Rhys said with his smile back on his face. "I got into her mind again and put her to sleep. She had no mind shields at the time, so it was easy."

Feyre noticed how he said 'at the time', so she had to ask, "Did you teach her how to create mind shields?"

"I did." Rhys smiled, a proud look in his face. "I also taught her how to read and write." Rhys added with a sarcastic smile all over his lips while looking at her with amusement.

Feyre laughed and reciprocated the look. "Let me guess. You told her to write 'Rhysand is the best High Lord ever' and 'Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord ever'. Am I right?"

Rhys gave a big belly laughter "Nope," Feyre gave him a look telling him that she didn't believe him for a second, Rhys laughed again before saying "I told her to write 'Rhysand is much stronger than Cassian' and 'Rhysand is much smarter than Azriel', things like that." Rhys concluded, still laughing.

Feyre noticed the love and the pride in his eyes and couldn't help but look at him with admiration.

Noticing the way she looked at him, he asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Without a second thought, she said, "You really love her, don't you?"

Surprise passes in his eyes before replying, "Yes. Very much. I basically raised her. Me and the rest of the Inner Circle, of course, but mostly me and Cassian." Rhys paused for a moment looking at the window, a sad smile settled in his lips before returning his look to Feyre. "Y/N is my second chance. Losing my sister, was one of the most painful things I ever had to go through but Y/N," Rhys paused, looking at the bite marks again "She helped me heal that part of me. She's the best thing that ever happened to me and to my Inner Circle. Finding her that night feels like a blessing, like the Mother gave me another chance, and I'm not gonna lose her this time. She's Cassian second chance too, you know? After losing his mother the way he did, Y/N helped heal that part of him, too."

Feyre nodded, somehow understanding his feelings. For a few moments, she wondered what it would be like to have a relationship like that with her sisters.

"So what is her position in your Inner Circle?" Feyre questioned, thinking why were you in Winter Court.

"She's my Emissary. Usually, she doesn't go to others' courts alone, Azriel's always by her side," Rhys says with a certain amusement in his voice before he continues "but she was born in Winter and has a very good relationship with Kallias. I trust him and I know he would never hurt her." Rhys scoffed. "Gods help him if he did."

Feyre noticed the amusement in his voice at mention of his brother's name, her curiosity speaking louder, "Y/N and Azriel?"

Rhys snorted. "Honestly, I don't know. Sometimes they flirt with each other but I don't know if it's just for fun or not. Their relationship was never like ours. While me and Cassian always saw her as our little sister, Azriel always saw her more like a friend and Y/N too. She always saw him as a friend. As someone to run to when Cass and I started acting too much like dads to her."

Feyre snorted and caught Rhys looking at his hand again. She saw him caressing the mark and wondered, "Why didn't it heal?"

Rhys understood what she meant without taking his eyes from his hand. "I don't know, but I'm glad it never did. This," Rhys said while gesturing his hand in the air, "is what kept me sane and going during all those years under the rule of Amarantha."

Feyre gave him a small smile, and before she could say something again, Cassian entered the room in a rush.

"Am i interrupting something? Cassian asks.

Rhys is quick to reply, "No, you're not. What is it?"

Cassian says with the biggest smile on his face. "Our little star is back. She decided to come home earlier and arrived a few minutes ago. She's at the House."

Rhys face lights up at this new information and is quick to stand with the warmest smile on his lips. "Finally." Feyre notices his shoulders relaxing, like a pressure was taken of from them.

Feyre asks, confused. "Little star?"

Cassian and Rhys answer at the same time, "Y/N.

Feyre let's a giggle escape her at the cute nickname they have for you.

"Well," Rhys holds out a hand, and Feyre is quick to grab it. "Would you like to meet her?"

Feyre snorts "Would i like to meet the girl who bit your hand, kick Cassian in the nuts and stole Azriel's precious dagger? Yes. Yes, i would." Feyre replies like is the obvious thing in the world.

Cassian laughs. "Seriously, Rhys? Out of all of the stories that there is about Y/N. You had to tell that one?"

Rhys could only laugh and shake his head. "I know, i know." Rhys looked at Feyre again. "Shall we? I don't want to stay one more minute without seeing her."

Cassian snorted. "Cauldron, you're such a dad. It's only been six days."

Rhys gave him an unfazed look. "Like you weren't acting the same."

Cassian scoffs. "Shut up. Now let's go before Mor drags her to go shopping."

Rhys laughs, knowing very well that his cousin is absolutely doing that. He looks at Feyre one more time, love, and affection all over him. "Ready to meet my favorite person?"

Feyre nodds at him before answering, "Ready."

A/n: Thank you for reading!

Masterlist

the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ COME BACK TO ME(PLEASE ) kim minji x reader

↳ warnings this takes place during ditto era, minji is down bad, 6th member reader

minji stood frozen, her gaze locked on the ethereal girl as she glided past without stopping. every movement seemed choreographed, every step a graceful dance. time seemed to slow as minji drank in the girl's beauty—a beauty so unique, it made minji question her own perception of the word beauty. 

it was the kind of beauty that transcended mere physical appearance, captivating minji’s senses and leaving her speechless and then that specific feeling started creeping upon minji.

regret.

the feeling of realizing you messed up the best thing that could ever happen to you.

yeah, that’s what she was feeling right now.

"oh no, don't give me that look," minji turned to hanni, who shot her a scolding glance. "you broke up with her, bro. don’t act all heartbroken just because your ego got in the way."

minji’s shoulders sagged under Hanni's sharp gaze, her expression a mix of regret and frustration. "I know, I know," she muttered, “she’s just so pretty.”

minji couldn't fathom why their ceo thought it was a stroke of genius to add yn to the group after pitting her and yn against each other the entire time. It felt like a cruel joke, especially considering the rule of having only "five people" for debut for the group only to suddenly change course and introduce yn months after their debut dropped. the decision felt like a slap in the face.

like everything she did was for nothing, like letting yn go was for nothing, being an asshole was all for nothing.

“she is.” hanni  responded with no remorse, not even flinching at minji’s glare, “and I don’t know what you were thinking.” she says rubbing salt into the wound causing minji to groan and throw her head back.

"I don't know what I was thinking either," minji whispered to herself, the weight of her own words echoing in the quiet of the room. 

with a heavy sigh, she pushed herself up from the couch, a weariness settling over her like a heavy blanket. "I'm gonna go lay down," she muttered as she trudged away, her steps heavy with the burden of her thoughts.

"don’t forget we're all meeting back in the living room in an hour to watch ditto drop!" hanni’s voice called after minji, her words giving a burst of energy that clashed with minji’s mood. but minji was already disappearing down the hallway, her groan serving as a half-hearted response to hanni’s reminder.

minji kept her gaze fixed on the floor as she made her way down the hall to her room, lost in her thoughts and oblivious to the figure approaching that makes their way down to opposite side of the hall with a bag of caramel popcorn in their hands, with a sudden collision, their bodies collided, eliciting a yelp from both parties involved.

startled , minji looked up, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes met yn’s. time seemed to stand still as they locked gazes, minji momentarily forgetting how to breathe in the presence of the girl.

while the girl stuffs an handful the popcorn she already had in her hand in her mouth while clutching the bag in her other.

minji observed yn’s awkward attempt to slowly chew the sweet popcorn, her mind racing faster than her mouth could keep up. "you're still obsessed with caramel popcorn?" she blurted out, the words tumbling from her lips before she could fully process them.

yn’s eyes flicked up to meet minji’s, a hint of sheepishness coloring her expression as she swallowed the popcorn. "yeah," she admitted but immediately hardening up, “that doesn’t matter though, since nothing about me matters.” she responds quoting the older girls words causing minji to cringe.

“yn-“

"I really don't want to hear it," yn interjected quietly, cutting off minji’s attempt to speak. "you said what you had to say already," she added, her tone tinged with a hint of vulnerability before turning and walking down the hall.

minji hand instinctively reached out as if to stop her, but she hesitated, the weight of yn’s words settling heavily in her chest. With a resigned sigh, minji let her hand fall back to her side, watching silently as yn disappeared from view, the distance between them feeling wider than ever before.

she felt the weight in her chest get heavier as she turned around and headed to her room, being around yn has been so hard, the more she interacts with the girl the more she feels like she’s going to explode in tears.

minji lets herself sink into her bed and closes her eyes letting her guilty tears fall, she pulls her blanket over her and lets sleep slowly take over.

and just as she closes her eyes she opens them, when she feels an excited hyein open the door of the room, minji looks at the time, it’s been an hour since she fell asleep.

“minji unnie, get up!”the younger yells, “we have two minutes.” she says before running out the room

minji stares at the ceiling before letting out a sigh and dragging herself out of her bed, she makes her way out her room and she immediately here’s the loud noises of her members.

despite her reluctance, minji knew she couldn't stay holed up in her room forever. with a resigned sigh, she squared her shoulders and began to make her way towards the source of the commotion, steeling herself for whatever awaited her on the other side.

as soon as she walks into the living room she’s met with danielle’s of hurry’s.

minji can’t help but smile at the girls contagious excitement, but that smile immediately disappears when she sees that only spot open is the one beside yn who hasn’t looked up from her bowl of caramel popcorn since minji entered the room.

taking a deep breath to steel herself, minji forced a shaky smile and approached the couch, taking the seat beside yn.

the air between them felt charged with tension, a silent barrier that seemed to loom larger with each passing moment. despite her best efforts to ignore it, minji couldn't shake that feeling she got in her chest around yn.

she opened her mouth to whisper a greeting but was cut off by the greeting and of the other girls as the countdown started.

she played with her fingers as the screams got louder when the music video started, she couldn’t help but smile at the music video, especially the scenes where it was just her and yn, she remembers how nervous she was when the director told her that her and yn will have multiple parts alone together, the filming was so awkward but seeing how nice it tuned out made her warm inside.

feeling a gentle nudge, minji turned to look at yn, who had her eyes fixed on the music video playing on the screen. furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, minji followed yn’s gaze down to the bowl of caramel popcorn nestled between them. 

A soft smile tugged at the corners of minji’s lips as she realized yn’s subtle invitation to share the snack.

minji reached out and scooped up a handful of the sweet and salty treat, the warmth of yn’s gesture washing over her like a comforting embrace. 

as she popped a kernel into her mouth, minji couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope flicker within her, a silent reassurance that perhaps, despite the distance that had grown between them, there was still a chance for reconciliation.

once the music video finished all the girls got up, they all agreed to make cookies after watching the music video, minji watched as they made their way around the corner to the kitchen, their conversation buzzing about the music video.

hanni shot minji an encouraging look before nodding to yn who still at bedside minji with her face in her phone probably texting her family members about the music video, she then turned the corner and made her way to the kitchen like the rest of the girls.

minji swallowed nervously, the lump in her throat betraying the turmoil of emotions swirling within her. "Um, yn?" she began tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the din of the room.

yn finally tore her gaze away from the screen of her phone, turning to look at minji with a raised eyebrow, a silent question lingering in her eyes. the weight of their unspoken tension hung heavy in the air, casting a palpable unease over their interaction.

minji took a deep breath, summoning the courage to voice the words that had been weighing on her mind. "I... I just wanted to say... I'm sorry," she stammered, her voice trembling with the raw vulnerability of her confession. "For everything."

"I... I don't know what I was thinking," minji continued, her voice cracking with emotion. "the pressure of debuting was just so high, and the fact that it was either me or you getting kicked out of the lineup made everything worse." She paused, her words hanging heavy in the air as she struggled to articulate the depth of her remorse.

"I let my fear and insecurity cloud my judgment," minji confessed, her gaze dropping to her hands as she fidgeted nervously with her fingers. 

“But that's no excuse for how I treated you. You didn't deserve that, and I'm truly sorry for hurting you, I don’t even know how I even thought of hurting someone I love so much, I need you to know that ever since that day all I’ve wanted was you back.”

the weight of her confession hung between them, the silence stretching taut with the unspoken hope for forgiveness. minji heart pounded in her chest, her pulse echoing in her ears as she waited with bated breath for yn’s response.

"the pressure was pretty high, huh?" yn echoed softly, her tone tinged with a mixture of understanding and resignation. she sighed, her gaze flickering briefly to the bustling activity in the other room before returning to minji’s troubled expression.

"I get it," yn admitted, her voice carrying a weight of shared experience. "we were all under immense pressure, and it's easy to let it get the best of us." she reached out, laying a gentle hand on minji arm, a silent gesture of solidarity. "but that doesn't excuse what happened between us."

there was a quiet intensity in yn’s gaze as she locked eyes with minji, a silent plea for honesty and accountability. "I appreciate your apology," she said softly, her words carrying a note of sincerity. "but apologies alone won't mend what's broken.”

minji felt her chest sink and it was obvious that yn could see it in her eyes, “I do see us together minji I really do, but let’s do this slowly.”

minji nodded, her throat tight with unspoken words. despite the ache of longing that pulsed within her, she knew that yn was right. rebuilding what they once had would take time and patience, a delicate process that couldn't be rushed.

"Okay," minji murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand, I’ll do anything to fix this, I’m kinda obsessed with you.”

yn laughed and pressed a soft kiss to minji’s cheek, “yeah, it’s obvious.” obvious she teases before getting up from the couch and reaching out her hand towards minji, “lets go help with the cookies.”

minji couldn’t contain the smile that broke out on her face as she interlocked her hand with yn’s letting the girl drag her towards the kitchen.

she looks at yn and is completely mesmerized and just like always her mouth is faster than her mind, “you looked amazing in the music video, best way to make your official debut.”

“oh, shut up.”

[jubileemon]

Understanding Husk

A "husk" means a shell or a protective outer cover. This fits his character well since he's shown to be a husk of a man. More specifically, he's a former overlord who lost his power.

Husk in the "Pilot" was a lot more grumpy than he is in the show proper, losing his temper at Alastor and not hesitating to show his disinterest in anything going on as long as it doesn't concern him. When he sees just who has yanked him away from his card game, all he can do is exasperatedly ask Alastor what he wants with him this time. Seeing as Alastor is a constant reminder of how his gambling ended up costing him his status as an Overlord, it's easy to understand why he'd be upset at having to bend to the Radio Demon's will.

In the series, it's established he's still a jerk, but it's evident he cares, and his temper isn't as volatile and often warranted. In the beginning, Husk made it no secret that he was forced to stay at the hotel because of his ties to Alastor and would gladly get as far away as he could if able to. Behind his grumpy exterior, Husk is actually very patient and it takes a lot to make him legitimately angry.

He does his job as a bartender competently, but Husk is fairly blunt about the fact he's only participating in the group's shenanigans because he simply can't be bothered to protest. He does join bonding activities but departs once it's no longer enjoyable for him, after Vaggie decided to literally throw everyone into the middle of a turf war as part of her trust exercises. Thankfully, he grows out of this a bit as the series goes on and grows to care about the staff and guests.

Husk has his own issues and is pretty much apathetic to almost everything out of pessimism. But he still has the most common sense out of the cast and he's the most emotionally intelligent and self-aware, even serving as an advisor to the others at the right times when he's not bitterly accepting his circumstances. The hotel's owner is the only cheerful idealist demon princess who just wants to see the good in everyone, one investor is a maniac who wants to get entertainment out of watching the chaos, the other investor is the owner's neglectful, depressed father (and also the literal King of Hell), the manager is bossy and threatens people with weapons at the slightest provocation, and the cleaning lady is a neatfreak with a thing for "bad boys". Then there's Husk wanting nothing to do with their escapades. He's also a lot more hostile towards Alastor and Angel after they touch him multiple times.

It should be noted that Alastor lets Husk get away with flipping him off. But the moment Husk brings up the fact that Alastor's own soul belongs to someone else within earshot of the Radio Demon, Alastor can barely restrain himself to threatening to tear Husk's soul apart and broadcast his screams for all to hear if he ever says that again. By the end of the encounter, Husk is a shivering, terrified wreck and Alastor couldn't care less.

As the bartender, Husk knows how to listen to people and knows exactly what kind of problems that all the residents of the hotel are going through, and while he would rather let them solve their own problems, he isn't exactly above giving them some pretty solid, if very brutally honest. While it was unnecessarily rude to bring up the Hotel residents' flaws, Husk was accurate about every one of them as Charlie's desperate to help others but doesn't confront her own issues, Vaggie judges others because she hates herself, Sir Pentious is a lonely Sinner who watches people in their sleep, and Angel puts on an act that he's happy about his porn star job but is really miserable.

Husk was always cynical and crass, but he's also an old Sinner with a tender heart. With Angel however, he tends to be a lot more irritable. While it initially looks to be because of Angel constantly flirting with him, it's because he hates how hard Angel acts out to hide how miserable he actually is, considering him a "phony" in a self-destructive spiral. He eventually realizes he and Angel are the same, despite their differences. They're both self-destructive addicts since Husk is a gambling addict, while Angel is addicted to sex and drugs who sold their souls to an abusive Overlord. And both of them have descended even further into their addiction and adopted outwardly cynical, cruel personas as a coping mechanism.

Husk getting through to Angel Dust in the manner he does makes a considerable amount of sense when it's taken into account that the first step to overcoming drug addiction is usually getting the addict to acknowledge they even have a problem. Angel hasn't been able to get better despite having some genuine interest because he's been utterly refusing to admit he has a problem to fix, the moment he does his mood drastically improves as does his motivation.

In "Welcome To Heaven", Husk saw Cherri as a bad influence on Angel's path of redemption and advised her not to get high during their night out. He even defends Angel from Cherri's criticism about how the hotel was changing him. Of course Husk wants what's best for Angel, but unlike Cherri who thinks that feeding into Angel's addictive tendencies are the best way to treat his depression and that living up to the hotel's standards is only making his life more difficult, Husk encourages Angel to stick with the self-improvement he's learned from the hotel and not fall back into his old ways since Angel's trying to get into Heaven.

When Vaggie leaves to find out how angels can be killed, she tells Angel, Sir Pentious, Husk and Niffty that she knows they didn't sign up to be the first targets of the angels, so she wouldn't blame them if they left. Of course, when she and Charlie return, they find that all of them have stayed and fortified the hotel.

Husk even admitted that he doesn't want to look for new drinking buddies and being nice to both Angel and Pentious is a demonstration of the massive character development he's undergone over the course of the show. In the beginning, he was grouchy towards everyone and hated even being in the hotel, but now he's willing to risk his life to defend it and the other residents.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Avy jorrāelan

req: full request here.

warnings: smut, canon typical targaryen incest, male! brother!reader, bottom!r, top!jace, this is longer than i expected, smut with plot, hand job

MASTERLIST

As much as you adored your brother, he had always been distant. When growing up, he didnt do much with you, always off training or something. But he was always sweet, and kind to you when you were together. You remembered many fond moments you shared during your childhood with the boy.

You’re not quite sure when this innocent crush on him started. For most of your life, you had only been around your family, clinging to Jace most of all, following him around like a lost puppy. You grew up around him, you knew him more than anyone else had. You only wanted to serve him, to be loved by him.

Jacaerys was none the wiser about your infatuation with him, of course, he was always confused by the sudden gifts that sometimes flooded his room, the compliments, the staring, and the affection you showed him. He brushed it off as an innocent fascination and adoration from his brother.

Jace didn’t know that everything he said to you replayed in your mind constantly, overthinking every little word and sentence he uttered, breaking the sentences apart to understand what he had meant. Jace didn't know that you held onto every little crumb of affection he gave you, that those crumbs had given you more hope that perhaps your brother shared the same love for you as you did him.

And so, as the war began, time passed and lives were ended, the council talked and talked about alliances they could make and how. That is when they came up with an idea that for some reason, infuriated Jace. 

“Prince Jacaerys, sir, he’s old enough to be wed, and this alliance would help, I do not see why n-” one protested, thinking the idea to be a rather smart one.

Jace shook his head before interrupting the man. “I do not want to hear about it anymore. There has to be better options.” He ignored the odd look that Rhaenyra gave him, turning his head the other way. 

Later that night, in his bed. He sat staring at his high ceiling, wondering over and over why he cared so much about whether you should be married off or not. Nothing he did distracted him from his thoughts, and he struggled deeply to sleep, tossing and turning throughout the entire night.

The next morn, you walked with one goal in your mind. With the war raging on and people counting on you all, you knew what you had to do. You breathed heavily as you stepped into the dragonpit, Silverwing in the middle.

You took a deep breath, walking closer and closer to the large silver dragon. She huffed in your face, staring curiously at you. You had decided that she would be the best dragon, because she tend to be more docile and kinder to strangers.

You had lessons as a child on how to claim a dragon, just never made no actual effort to claim one. But you knew that today was the day. Her tail whipped around, you yelping, ducking under it so that it didn’t crush you and fling you to the walls.

“Y/n!” You heard a voice shout from behind you, your brother. You didn’t glance back at him, gulping before you attempted to mount her, putting your hands on her sides, gently petting her.

“Lykirī.” You murmured to her, watching her head stare at you, move closer to your figure. You shut your eyes, feeling her hot breath near your face. Your breathing was erratic, and you knew you had to calm down before you did anything.

The creature let out a loud roar, you slightly stumbling back, but regaining your balance. You turned to the dragon now, staring at her, your brother far behind standing with Rhaenyra. “Lykirī.” You repeated to the dragon.

Rhaenyra held out a hand in front of the boy, like he made an attempt to get you away from the dragon.

You turned your attention back to the dragon, large beady eyes staring into yours. You calmed your breathing, reminding yourself that this dragon would help your mother, would help your brother. And that was all the reason you needed.

You took a deep breath, slowly climbing on top of the dragon, who let out quieter noises now, still following your every move. You mounted the dragon successfully, smiling widely as you stared down at her. You grabbed onto the reins at her sides tightly.

“Sovès.” You told her, and she took off into the air. With the wind in your hair, and the clouds below you, you felt peace. That was until you went back onto the ground, your smile falling when you hopped off of silverwing, being met face to face with Jace, who didn’t look as happy as your mother did.

She spoke a congratulations, Jace glaring at you and not speaking a word until you both were alone, and he gripped your arm, pulling you aside.

"What were you thinking?" he asked urgently, his furrowed brow revealing his frustration. You stood there, confused, unable to understand why he was so upset.

“Wh- what? Why are you mad?” You asked the boy, shoving his arm off of you. He huffed, glancing around.

“Because, that was an incredibly dangerous thing to do. You didn’t even think to tell us? To tell me? You just marched on in here! You could’ve gotten hurt! What if we hadn’t been there and something happened? I would’ve never been able to forgive myself!”

“I wanted you to be happy for me, proud of me!” You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest, trying to fight the tears that dared to fall.

“It was stupid, y/n. Gods, why must you be so…”

You looked at the boy, the tears falling once you couldn’t help it anymore. “So what, Jace?”

“Nevermind.” He sighed, shaking his head, glancing down at the floor and avoiding your teary eyes. He hated when you cried, but now he had no one to blame but himself.

“Say it!” You told him, bringing your hand up and shoving his shoulder. “Say it! I’m so what, Jace? I’m stupid?”

“Your decisions are stupid.”

You bitterly laughed at his response, shaking your head. “I am stupid. I am utterly stupid for thinking that you would be happy for me.” You mumbled, he attempted to stop you when you turned, hearing his shout your name.

The next few days, you sulked around, everyone had noticed it, and was confused at your odd behavior. You hadn’t talked to Jace since then, avoiding him like the plague. You simply glanced at each other when you were at the table, but not uttering a word.

Jace had enough. The silence between the both of you was killing him. You being upset over him was killing him. So, he took a deep breath, before quietly knocking on your door, as to not wake or disturb anyone else.

You walked over to the door, opening it and peeking out. You opened it more upon seeing Jace.

“What?” You murmured to the boy, not quite wanting to see him.

“Can you come out?”

Your eyebrows raised, tilting your head in confusion. “W-what?”

“Please. Just come out of your room. I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” You responded.

“I have our dragons ready for us.”

This piqued your curiosity, you opening the door wider. “Why?”

“I thought we should go out and fly.” He shrugged, glancing around. “Come on.”

You sighed, silently closing the door behind you and following Jace outside, where Silverwing and Vermax sat, waiting for you both to mount them.

You shook your head, smiling at your brothers idea.

“Does anyone know?” You asked him quietly. He smiled back at you, shaking his head, walking over to Vermax while you walked to Silverwing, both of you mounting the dragons at the same time.

You held onto the reins, glancing at your brother as you spoke to your dragon. “Sovès.”

You took off into the sky, your brother not far behind. After you were above the clouds, you stopped her, and you were drifting now. Jace caught up, your dragons side by side.

“I’m sorry for how I acted. The other day.” He told you, you turning to face him. His face looked guilty, like he had held his regrets.

“I am sorry as well.” You admitted.

“Don’t be. It was me who was being unreasonable.” He shrugged, small smile gracing his features now.

As he stared at you, and you stared back, Jacaerys had come to a realization. He was in love with you. That’s what’s been eating at him forever. He’s kept his feelings down in his chest, pushing them away anytime the thought came up. He realized it now.

You swallowed, turning to face the sky again. His gaze remained on you. You both talked, about honestly everything and anything you could. You had missed his smile, his laughter. Your heart was slowly mending back together with each moment you had with the boy.

After a while of talking and riding both dragons, you both landed outside, handing the dragons back to the dragon keepers outside. You both laughing as you ran down the halls, you opening your room doors after sneaking past some guards.

Your brother stood in front of you, leaning in your doorway when you entered. You quirked an eyebrow at the boy, he swallowed, stepping closer to you, his hands going to your face.

Your mouth went agape when his hands cupped your cheeks, his eyes boring into yours. You slowly leaned in, shutting your eyes, his lips meeting yours halfway.

You both melted into the kiss. He closed the doors behind him, gently pushing your further into the room, and then onto your bed.

His hand was on the small of your back, he panted for air when he pulled away, looking down at you underneath his body. You smiled up at the boy, heart racing at what was about to come.

His pace was slow once he was inside of you, you clutching tightly onto his back, holding his body closer to yours. You let out grunts and groans, both your noises filling up the room.

“I love you.” He mumbled to you, the confession making his heart feel lighter. You looked at the boy with all the adoration and love he swears he’s ever felt.

“Avy jorrāelan.” You replied softly, his eyes searching yours. His hand went down too your cock, you letting out a moan. He leaned down, pushing his mouth onto yours again as he began to tug at your member, your pre-cum falling onto his hands.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” He muttered against your shoulder blade, kissing the skin there as well. His breath fell hot on it.

“I’ve waited longer for you.” You chuckled lowly, feeling his lips quirk up into a smile against your shoulders.

“Mayhaps.” He breathed out, feeling that familiar coil build in his stomach. You looked down where you both connected, before looking back at him.

“Jace…” you cried out at a particular thrust, his hands working at your cock faster.

“I know, I know.” He sighed out, feeling his release close as well. He placed a kiss on your collarbone, shooting his cum inside you with a groan, and yours spilling onto his hand.

[temptaetions]

angel eyes 🪽 b.cc (m)

a/n: the photo above is from stray kids' skz magic school shoot. i don’t own the media. i clearly got carried away writing this, because it's so long. however, i hope you guys enjoy it. obviously none of this is real...so does accuracy matter?

✩ spellbound secrets series m.list

✩ synopsis: you’ll think you’re in paradise, and one day you’ll find out he wears a disguise, don’t look too deep…

✩ genre: idiots to lovers | love epiphany au | teacher x student

✩ pairing: ??? b.cc x fem!compassion conjurer!reader

✩ word count: 21.6k | lowercase intended.

✩ rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

✩ warning(s): quite a few time skips. minor character death, mentions of a car accident, semi descriptive. y/n has a scar across her body (not self inflicted, how it was inflicted is not described), both y/n and chan have unresolved issues with love, chan's kind of a dick in the beginning. swearing, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of blood, y/n has a medical episode, once more horribly written smut [between b.cc x reader: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), creampie, oral (f. receiving...he starts eating it thru the panties LOL), so much kissing, some (nude) grinding, missionary (because i'm an emotional bitch), light nipple play (clothed), crying during sex, multiple orgasms, reader begs a lot, some biting, light choking (m. receiving), a bit of alluding to sex as 'extra credit' and subtly feeding the professor x student power dynamic]. (more information about y/n: she glows, kind of like a glowstick, and she can float around instead of walking.)

✩ what to listen to: angel eyes - abba | the chain - fleetwood mac | bodyache - purity ache | if it isn't love - new edition | cherish the day - sade

tuesday – november 02.

it's slow, the fall. it feels like liebesträume.

feeling lost is an understatement. 

he's been lost before - in grocery stores, not understanding assignments. shit, he's even been lost in the woods before. he knows what it's like to be lost, physically. he knows what it's like to not know what his emotions mean, either, so that also counts in his book.

but this? this feeling that he's just wandering the world? not knowing where his purpose lies, or what he's meant to be doing with said unrealized purpose? this is a feeling of damn near disorientation, isolation, off fucking course. it's all the same anyway. everything is the same, nearly everyday.

he wakes up, brushes his teeth. greets changbin and hyunjin at the table for breakfast, and gets ready for the day. goes to class, daydreams. he comes home, has lunch with jisung sometimes, and goes to the gym with changbin at seven-thirty. every few fridays, he'll go to one of the university baseball games, cheering on seungmin and jisung while sharing nachos with his ex-fling, sooyoung, and her best friend (who so happened to be seungmin's former girlfriend.) then, he's home again, he showers, he sleeps for a few hours.

every. single. day.

he gets bored, but reminds himself he needs to find peace in the routine. it's all he knows – he doesn't know what's keeping him here, but he's aware it's something. everyone knows it's something, but have no answers for him. he's sought after so many master sorcerers across all dimensions, begging to find an end to his equation, but to no avail.

he has no idea who he is, or what purpose he serves, and he pretends he's okay with it. he soothes by saying that not all can be known.

he pretends it's fine as he goes through his days, as he goes to class, as he talks to girls. he doesn't feel much of anything when he does these things, but the women he speaks to certainly do. they grin from ear to ear, like cheshire cats, when they get a moment to speak to the uncertainty that is bang chan.

but, it's fine. he's fine, it's really not a big deal.

he's in his last year of grad school, hoping to just bury himself in his studies to stop the feeling of impending doom. normally, you open up shop right after undergrad. you offer your services, barter for goods, sometimes get paid in a goat and two chickens instead of money. so many of his friends have already done so, relishing in the satisfaction that is being a sorcerer and mastering their craft. 

what the fuck is he supposed to do? study until his fingers fall off and his brain becomes putty?

"i dunno, man. you could become a genius." jisung spoke around a mouthful of blueberries, and chan grimaced. "what? i'm bulking up!" shaking his head, chan closed his notebook. shoving it into his bookbag, he sighs. "i don't think i want to know everything there is to know, ji."

"doesn't knowing everything you need to know, start with knowing yourself?" minho teases from across the table, winking at jisung over his coffee cup. the younger boy nearly chokes, getting a whack across the back to aid in not seeing god. "don't flirt with him, he'll have an aneurysm." "hey!" jisung sputters, but the three of them know it's true. how jisung was the campus' playboy, no one would ever know. chan didn't even know if jisung could read when they first met. "you know it's true, ji. i gotta head out, i have a night class this semester with professor y/l/n, i finally got my schedule fixed. changbin is going to hate me because i'm going to miss the gym every tuesday and thursday." chan groans as he swings his bag over his shoulder, and the two men watch as he slides his headphones on, walking out of the library.

he's insufferable lately, and they don't know why. they assume he needs to kiss someone, preferably sooner rather than later.

"you think the poor guy knows what he's in for?" minho mumbles, closing his textbook. jisung shakes his head, popping another blueberry in his mouth. "i hear she's ruthless. i mean, if i was an anomalistic prodigy with gorgeous thighs like hers, i would be, too." "shut up, you can't even kill spiders."

your classroom is surprisingly cozy as he strolls in. the lights are dimmed, and there are blankets draped across many chairs. he looks around, spotting a green couch in the back. raising his eyebrows, he makes a beeline for it, hearing other people start to trickle in.

setting up his laptop on the table before him, he lets his eyes wander.

the walls are plastered with entomology posters, and he scrunches his nose as he sees a taxidermied praying mantis on your desk. he remembers what you said in your speech at your commencement ceremony – "the people of ancient greece and egypt saw the praying mantis as a guide. a guide for those who needed direction, and my god, have i needed it. life truly does go on and i am further amazed by how deeply it fills me with joy to stand here before you. the people of ancient greece and egypt saw the praying mantis as a guide, and i am so honored to be the mantis that prays for you."

you were the university's little treat, their trophy to parade. their only compassion conjurer and possessor of the will to practice benevolent magic. you cared of nothing more but to help those around you, you never said no. you never denied yourself to be utilized to find peace. he admired you, but not really. it was twisted, but he thinks you should…help yourself. he believes you should be selfish, at least once in a while.

he didn't really know you, but he hadn't expected to, either. you seemed like you were constantly on the go. you floated about, sort of like a ghost. your hands often clasped behind your back, a warm golden glow surrounding you. he'd heard from some people that they've seen it change color, but he never has.

but again, he didn't know you.

"chan!"

the voice whips him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see yugyeom. he smiles, reaching his hand out for a dap from his oldest friend. "hey! how have you been? still on the baseball team?" "nah, i quit after i started dating doyeon. apparently, she has quite the track record with the team." he whistles, pulling out his laptop as he slides on the couch. "you quit the team for a girl?" chan questions, and yugyeom gives him a shy smile.

"she's not just any girl, chan. i think…she could be the one." he shrugs, a blush coating his cheeks as chan bumps his shoulder. "aww, that's so gross."

"shut up. what happened with you and sooyoung? did you guys break it off?" yugyeom takes a sip of his water, and chan nods as he sees more people walk in and take their seats. "yeah, we stopped fucking around. i wasn't as emotionally invested as she was, and i felt awful for it but we ended on good terms. i'm just not ready for a relationship and i should have made that clear. that was months ago, though, and we're fine." he shrugs, and feels an odd shiver down his spine. he shakes it off, continuing the casual conversation with yugyeom.

the door opens, and they both stop talking to look up. you're floating in gracefully, dark hair framing your face, a few scattered gold strands sprouting at the crown of your head. a bit like a halo, really. long, wine red nails reach for the light switch, dimming the lights even lower.

"good evening, everyone. eyes up front, please." your voice is softer than at your ceremony, but just as confident. you're looking around, your glow dimming lightly as your eyes stop in his direction. chan's eyes flicker to yugyeom, who is smiling at his phone, thumbs typing rapid fire. shaking his head, he looks up at you, your gaze on yugyeom. chan bumps his foot, and his head shoots up. your eyes are slightly amused, "you're paying for this class. i suggest you pay attention." "sorry." he slides his phone in his jacket, and chan bites back a laugh as he clicks his pen. smiling, you redirect your attention. "welcome to identity theory! i'm professor y/l/n, but you guys can call me y/n. you might already know me, as i'm the university's only compassion conjurer, and that is exactly why i'm teaching this class." you hold up the syllabus, and begin walking around to pass them out.

"this is an extension course to the one you took in undergrad, self-discovery 101. here, we are going to further delve into ourselves, and figure out who we are outside of our powers, or what purpose they serve. i like to focus on eudaimonic theory, but if you guys have any others you want to talk about, i'm open for discussion. i also want to apologize for starting the class so late in the year. i promise the workload isn't much, i was just having a hard time deciding if i wanted to teach this class. i wouldn't be doing much soul searching with you guys, i'm already the trophy wife of the administration."

he likes your voice. it's smooth, unwavering even as you apologize and joke, even as you let your feet touch the ground. he feels his chest grow hot as you graze everyone's table with your fingers, a soft chatter beginning amongst the students. he's not nervous, but you're very commanding. he likes the way you grab attention, despite it now seemingly about to be directed to someone in the room.

"your eyes are very pretty." you stop in front of him, and the class grows quiet. you look down at him, the soft light around you a little brighter. he feels his cheeks flush, as he nods in confusion. "do they glow brighter the more i make you nervous?" you tease, and he looks away.

"cute." you slide his syllabus in front of him, and he takes it with a soft thank you.

his eyes were the only thing that gave him that something that people always mentioned. they swirled, every now and again, the brown glowing slightly violet at their own will. nobody knew what it was, but it seemed to take your interest. you move forward with the lecture, not even attempting to hide the subtle boredom in your voice as you go over the syllabus.

"i will see you all on thursday! have a safe night!" you cheer, and the students seem to bask in your happiness as you let them out of the room. you float about, and catch chan at the tail end of the gaggle of students. "you, pretty eyes."

his headphones are in the way, and you place your hand on his arm. his skin is warm to the touch, and he jumps at the contact before turning around, sliding them off. "oh, i'm sorry. did you need me?" "i just wanted to say, i hope my teasing didn't make you uncomfortable. sometimes it just slips out." you smile, and you notice one..two dimples make their presence on his cheeks. "don't worry, it's alright. is that all?" "no, actually." you hold up his file, and he seems to know exactly what's coming. "i don't know my abilities, if that's what you're going to ask. and i won't answer any questions about my parents, that's also in there."

his eyes hold something heavy, and you notice your glow dim as he speaks. if he does, he doesn't mention it. "alright, then i guess that's it. i'm sorry if i disturbed some emotional blockage." your brows furrow lightly, and he raises his own.

"whatever." he mumbles, and slides his headphones back on. he walks away, and you feel your lips tug into a frown. you wonder what his problem is as you walk back into your classroom, sliding the file into your desk drawer.

"you try and make a classroom a home." 

thursday – november 12.

from: yln.yn@spellbound.edu

hello, chan. this is professor y/l/n. i noticed you didn't show up to class last thursday, tuesday, or tonight.

i took it upon myself to look into your file again, with permission from the administration. i want to apologize for the sudden hot seat on tuesday after class, i was unaware of your situation and just wanted some insight. i can see how this made you uncomfortable, and i am sorry for causing said discomfort. i want you to be able to enjoy my class, and hopefully we can traverse that journey together.

that being said, i have come up with a new assignment for you, for the time being. since you don't really know what your specialties are, i can't grade based on performance or any papers delving into how they affect your life, personality, etc.

below is the rubric designed for this assignment. i spoke to the administration, and they're on board with this approach. if anything is too much, please don't hesitate to send me an email, or a text. my number is also below. have a good weekend!

signed,

y/n y/l/n

identity theory

spellbound institute of magic

psychology department

555-8212

he's been staring at this email for the last half hour. he even let hyunjin read over it, asking if he was seeing shit.

he'd skipped your class on thursday, and today. he didn't want to see you, so he avoided the psych hall altogether. he didn't really know how to feel as he switched tabs to the rubric you'd sent, essentially just saying you wanted an essay on how he's been coping with not being sure of his path in life.

how does he feel about it? does it bother him, and if he could pick, which abilities would he pick? his brain says the ability to never see you again, but his heart pangs as he rereads the postscript at the bottom of your email.

p.s. i am once again very sorry. i hope to see you in class on thursday, channie. - y/n

channie. ugh, his heart ached. he'd been so rude.

"you're thinking too hard." changbin sings from the living room, and chan sighs. "how would you know? you can't read minds." he rolls his eyes, shutting his laptop. changbin walks into the dining room, leaning over the back of a chair. "i know that look. the furrowed brows, the pout. you're thinking way too hard about this, and it was an honest mistake on your professor's part. you need to apologize, you grumpy bitch." "yeah, i don't really think it's a huge deal, either." hyunjin chimes in from the kitchen, and chan frowns. "you guys think i'm being overdramatic?" "i think your emotional repression is getting to you, you've been so insufferable lately. when's the last time you got laid?" hyunjin teases as he slides into a chair, and changbin wiggles his brows in agreement. "ugh, don't even." chan slumps his head against the wall. maybe seven months? he has a lot of pent up frustration. maybe not enough to write about his feelings and how annoyed it made him that you were digging into his life this early into him meeting you. what did you need to know, anyway? "isn't your professor that compassion conjurer paradigm? i heard the speech she gave at the convention last year, and i saw the photos. she's gorgeous, that glow around her all the time?" changbin whistles smoothly, and chan's stomach does a flip. he also saw the photos, but couldn't bring himself to think anything of them. he barely remembers watching your speech, too, but he certainly remembers the way your hips swayed as you walked off the stage.

he grimaces, feeling a bit gross at ogling you.

"she's fine." he shrugs, and changbin gives hyunjin a knowing look. "so, she's hot and you're into her. that's why she has you so worked up."

"i beg your finest fucking pardon, seo?" chan blinks, and hyunjin smirks. "then beg, channie. i'm sure professor y/l/n would like it if you did, she seems like the type. get on some dating apps, man. you need stress relief." chan scoffs, shoving his laptop into his backpack. "i'll be in my room, if you decide to stop talking about romancing my professor."

hyunjin and changbin snicker as chan storms off, his door slamming behind him as he flops onto his bed. sure, you were…okay. okay, you're hot. you're so fucking hot.

but, he doesn't like you. he doesn't like that you put him on the spot, and he doesn't like that you intended to ask so many personal questions right off the bat. he also doesn't like that his roommates are probably right – he probably is angry because he needs to get laid.

he groans into his pillow, fishing his phone out of his pocket. he unlocks it, opening the stupid app. "spellbound soulmates, how dumb." he mutters, unpausing his profile. he goes through it, updating photos and prompts. once he's satisfied, he goes to his deck.

left. left. left. left. right. right. left. left.

y/n, 26

compassion conjurer, benevolence magic

biography: sexy as fuck by day, sexy psych prof by night. everything you've heard is true.

interests: if your ass is phat, swipe right 🥵

his eyes widen, your smiling face staring back at him. scrolling through your profile, he sees mostly modest photos – you holding a tray of shots being the most scandalous. not a sliver of skin showing above your waist, but plenty of short skirts showing off your full thighs. you're smiling in every photo, but he can't think of anything except your lips parted, your thighs around his head. moaning his name.

alright, chris. he thinks. chill the fuck out.

he contemplates it for a bit, scrolling up and down your profile when he just shakes his head, closing the app and tossing his phone to the side. he flips onto his back, letting the pillow close around his ears.

he hates to admit it, because he doesn't know you. he doesn't dislike you, per say. but he's not very fond of your subtle insistence.

it's not necessarily your fault, but he really doesn't like talking about his family, especially his parents. only his friends know, and even then, it took all of four years to even bring it up. the fact that they're humans is a huge deal, and he can't risk their safety like that.

not to mention, admissions begged him to keep it a secret. they were toeing the line, chan being the third person in the university's history to have human parents. they knew about the world of magic, but didn't really have the abilities to take care of chan the way it was necessary.

so they didn't. they sent him to boarding school from a young age, and made it a point to frequently visit him. he sees them at least four times a year, but it's never enough time. he feels like he's missing a place to call home. 

he feels so alone.

it's not your fault. and he knows he needs to apologize. he just has too much pride right now.

he hears a knock, and changbin opens the door. "hey, what are you doing? i'm going to the gym, want to come with?" chan sighs, before forcing himself out of bed.

tuesday – november 17.

he's sitting on your couch today.

legs spread, hair tucked under a cap. black, like the rest of his clothes. he looks relaxed, his fingers dancing across his laptop as yugyeom shows him something on his phone. he just nods, and you can't make out what his lips say. 

you'd been feeling terrible about the events of last week, and hadn't gotten so much as an email from him. not about the assignment, not about how he clearly hates you, or even addressing your apology. you didn't understand him, but you don't know him, either.

the past three classes, you'd gotten to know your students. minnie, soyeon and shuhua were your favorite (and only) group, giggling in the corner over their laptops. they were all herbomancers, and you could tell simply based on how giggly they were. they chatted, and last thursday, shuhua was so high she just sat against her chair and stared into the abyss. you found it a little funny, when soyeon and minnie would have to drag her out of your class.

mingyu was a constant flirt, and you attributed it to his matchmaking expertise. he was one of the few cupidancers on campus, and you'd seen him about before. he had the ability to entrance people, to get them high off his attention, and you often saw girls with hearts in their eyes after speaking to him. it was quite the sight, to see someone emotionally orgasm. the fact that you were his professor didn't stop him from smiling at you, making suggestive comments, overall trying to weasel into your heart. you simply played his game, making him flustered.

yugyeom was too enthralled with his phone, and his girlfriend, to complete the assignments. the fact that minnie had slid eighty dollars his way told you his spirit weaving ways were some for the books – and so did minnie – as she rambled about a party at beta tau that past weekend. "you should come sometime, y/n. you'd get so wasted but it'd be so worth it."

you liked that they felt so at ease with you, speaking to you like you were nothing special. you liked being their age, being able to relate to the crazy parties and not worry about how you'd get home the morning after. you enjoyed the intimacy of the small class, but not the coldness surrounding who you would deem your most intriguing student.

he just sits there and he looks so nice. the slope of his neck, the way his fingers bounce on the keys of his laptop. the sheen of his lips from the cherry lip balm he applies three or four times over the two hours of your class. the way your hue almost changes from gold to pink from staring at him, and you know you catch some of their eyes as it tries.

"why do you glow, y/n?" you can hear minnie's hazy voice from the back of the room, and you feel yourself a bit dimmer than usual as you fight down the feelings of lust. "i actually don't know. the master sorcerers never told me, but i know it can be several different colors. care to ask me what they mean?" you wiggle your brows, and minnie giggles.

"pink means you're turned on, huh?" mingyu calls from his seat between shuhua and soyeon, earning a smack from both of them. you chuckle as he pouts, "what? i hooked up with a compassion conjurer last year in the second dimension, forgive me for assuming." "i thought you were bitchless, gyu? what a nice surprise, loverboy." shuhua teases, and mingyu just rolls his eyes. "well, he's not wrong."

their heads whip back to you, and you're purposely glowing gold. you're glad they don't make it weird, their eyes full of glee. "i know those sex flashbacks gotta be good, y/n." minnie giggles, and sighs dreamily. "i once got one in undergrad during the ochem final. i ran out of time and failed."

you laugh, floating closer to their table. "the colors mean a lot of things. i can also change them at will, if one isn't overpowering the other. the hues and brightness also amplify how i feel, which makes it really hard to hide any of my thoughts. for example," you pause, closing your eyes. you feel the warmth of blue overtake you, and hear a soft ooh. 

opening your eyes, you give a quick spin. "blue means i'm sad, disappointed, or at ease. i rarely get this one, it usually happens when i'm with my closest friends and can act on impulse."

the quartet looks amazed as you continue to change colors, explaining them slowly.

green, for envy, and disgust. you also rarely turn this color, and it is amongst the most dim that you've ever been. pink, for lust. you say it's your favorite color, but not your favorite feeling. orange for anger, and you recall that you only turned this color when in your mother's presence, and that you hated this one. silver, for remembrance and emptiness, and they don't require an explanation as the light grows brighter, your face deepening in sadness before you shake your head.

you exhale, before letting the cold of indigo overtake you. they gasp, and you feel shivers rack your body before you can finally speak.

"this is the only one i don't understand. i can make it seem darker, too." you say calmly, eyeing the dimness of it. it glowed almost like a blacklight, and at your will, it turned a deep violet, lining your extremities in black pixels. "have you ever felt it before?" soyeon pops a piece of gum in her mouth, offering a piece to you. taking one gently, you shrug as you unwrap it.

"nope. this one feels cold, though. the others feel warmer, like a blanket. this is like, sub-zero temperatures." you slide the piece into your mouth, feeling your golden glow return as you speak. "that's so cool, though. thank you for sharing." shuhua is gazing at you, fondness riddled in her eyes. you feel your cheeks heat, as you smile.

"my pleasure. class is over in twenty minutes, so wrap up whatever it is you're doing and i might let you guys dip out early." you nod at them, floating in the direction of yugyeom and chan. looking up from your gum wrapper, you see chan looking at you intently, his eyes slightly swirling with that same violet glow from tuesday.

"hey, pretty eyes. so kind of you to grace us with your presence today." your teasing makes him grimace, a hint of annoyance flashing through his eyes. "paying for the class, might as well pay attention." he mutters, echoing the first words you said to yugyeom.

your brows furrow at his attitude, and you watch yugyeom slip away, beckoned by minnie with a piece of pink paper. chan glances at you, closing his laptop and shoving it in his bag with indignance. "why are you acting like this? i already apologized." you feel your glow flash orange, before feeling the soft tinge of blue creeping up your back. his eyes are still violet, but they've softened. "i'm just trying to help you, chan."

"i don't think you can help, when you're part of the problem." he mumbles, his gaze never moving from your eyes. you sense blue creeping up your neck, and succumb to it, letting it blaze. "how disappointing, for a teacher to try and aid you in finding your path of life." your annoyance is visible as you spin, directing your attention to the gaggle of students watching your interaction. soyeon's eyes are wide as you dismiss them, asking them to please let the door close instead of leaving it propped open.

the words aren't even out of your mouth when you hear the door slam, yugyeom pitiful eyes confirming your thoughts. they begin to stand up, heading for the door when yugyeom splits from them, circling back to you.

"don't worry about chan. he's being a dick, it's not your fault." he places a hand on your shoulder, and you give him a sad smile. "i know, yug. i know."

a soft squeeze to your shoulder and he's gone, you're alone in your room. you sigh deeply, letting the most overwhelming hue of all take over.

the same dark red you felt all those years ago, letting it overwhelm you entirely. you sink into your desk chair, letting the soft burn of grief sink into your skin. you can close your eyes and still see it, the wine color in front of you. the one that matches your nails, and on occasion, your lipstick. the one that makes you ache the most, and yearn for those who are no longer here.

you miss him.

just like you miss chan's wide eyes, not having heard the creak of the wooden door in your turmoil. he slips away.

— ☆ — — ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —

later that night, you're sitting in your bathtub, letting the hot water relax your muscles. you hear your phone ping, and you reach for it.

from: bangchan@spellbound.edu

hello, professor y/l/n. i have read your email a few times since it was sent.

i accept your apology. i also accept this assignment, and will submit it as my final project grade, as per the rubric allows.

that being said, i will not be in class on thursday due to a prior commitment. feel free to email me back with any questions you may have, only those regarding the assignment will be answered.

signed,

bang christopher chan

spellbound institute of magic

general magic

you glare at the email, and let orange flicker like the light of your limoncello candle. you made no effort to question it, simply letting it slide. you send back an automated reply, sounds good! have a good weekend.

thursday – november 19.

chan hated meeting his parents in secret.

like it were a crime, to want to see them. he hated acting like it didn’t bother him that his siblings were growing up and he didn’t know them, he didn’t know what they liked, or what they did for fun. he felt so left out of everything, but still framed the photos they sent him. he still tucked their letters in a box for safe keeping, he still yearned to be loved by them.

not that they didn’t love him, but obviously it’s hard to do so from a distance. so they sit in the middle of the forest that surrounds the university, exactly 50 miles from all civilization. they sit there, for hours, and catch up.

“any luck yet?” his father peers at chan over a steaming plate of food, and he shakes his head. “no answers yet. if i don’t find out before the end of the semester, the master sorcerers said they’d figure something out.”

his mother sighs, her spoon stirring the canteen that held her warm coffee. "it'll be alright soon, channie. have you focused on other things? maybe find a nice girl to settle down with?" his father watches as chan visibly tenses, before pulling his wife close. "jagi, maybe that's for another time." she grimaces.

"i disagree. if he's having issues with other parts of his life, he needs to put it on the back burner for a second and figure out other parts. when you can't find a piece of a puzzle, you pick another part to focus on, do you not? the goal of life is to not let one bad thing, or one disappointing moment deter you from finding the answer to your qualms." she rolls her eyes, earning a smile from her husband.

"okay, she has a point." his father relents, and chan just shakes his head. "i'm not ready for a relationship.' "what about that girl, sooyoung?" his mother won't back down and he knows that. "moving on from my love life, i'm content. i'm fine with things, i have my friends, i have my studies. i'll get an answer eventually." he shrugs, trying not to let it show how much it gets to him.

"chan." she slides her arm across the picnic table, grasping his hand gently. "you're not happy. you can't possibly be, with all the turmoil you feel. you're like an angsty teenager who has never stepped outside his room." "yeah, well. life goes on." he mutters, and she feels her heart sink as he pulls his hand away, checking the time on his watch. "i think i'd better start heading back. i have an early day tomorrow." he's lying. they know it, but they begrudgingly allow him to bid them goodbye. they watch him 

walk to his car, and flash his hi-beams as a final farewell before pulling off.

thursday - november 26.

it's been about a month since chan started taking your class. 

and it's been about a month since he's been able to say a single word to you without the same tone of indignance on the tip of his tongue. seeing him look indifferent in the back of your classroom made it all the better, though, because at least now he was in class. he didn't speak to you unless you spoke to him first, but he was on time and attentive.

you liked something about him, but you didn't really know what. it's quite possible you just have a little lustful wishing for him, but it felt…weird. it felt strange, you could practically feel your skin on fire every time you glanced at him, catching his eyes every once in a while. he never held the gaze for longer than a few seconds. 

as for his violet eyes, you hadn't seen them since. you saw him smile with yugyeom. you've heard him laugh, the sound so sweet to your ears. you hated that your glow was so evident when his giggle resounded in the classroom.

you thought nobody noticed, the students didn't treat you any differently than their own friends. soyeon, minnie and shuhua made it a point to start inviting you out to drinks, and mingyu flirted with you relentlessly. you simply took the interactions in stride, and smiled politely as you kept the lectures going.

but tonight? chan wasn't in class (again) so you didn't have anyone to fawn over. mingyu was front and center, and the girls gathered around him as they conspired amongst themselves. they weren't very secretive, and you could hear them giggling as you floated over.

"what's the joke? i want to laugh, too." you teased with a soft smile, and mingyu flashed you his pearly whites before turning his phone at you.

message from: doyeon

[9:03pm] hey mingyu! tell yug i'm waiting for him at the party, and bring the girls with you!

[9:04pm] see if you can convince your professor to come, too 👀 i've seen her and she's hot! maybe she can take eunwoo off our hands, i'm sick of him moping over jisoo

you chuckle, your glow brightening a bit. "you guys want me to go to a party, at a frat house, on a school night?" shuhua nods her head, a giggle falling from her lips. "c'mon, y/n! live a little, there's going to be so many cute boys there." 

"yeah, y/n! plus, a little bird told me a certain purple eyed boy will be there." minnie wiggles her brows at you, and you smirk. "yeah? chan skipped my class for a party?" you glance at his empty spot on the couch, your glow dimming.

"c'mon, y/n. we all know you have the hots for him." mingyu says matter-of-factly, and you laugh. "i do not! he doesn't even speak in class, i don't know anything about him." you shrug, and mingyu smirks. "i've seen the way you look at him!" minnie chimes in, and you shake your head. "so what if you don't? he's hot and you're into that. he has nice muscles, i've seen him at the gym." mingyu sounds like he's trying to convince you, and you give him a smile before patting his shoulder. his cheeks tinge as you whisper, "are they as nice as yours?" soyeon teases mingyu as you float away, and their words stay with you as the class continues for another forty minutes. you type away at your desk as you bid them goodbye, but don't miss minnie sneaking away from her group to hand you a piece of pink paper.

"the address, in case you do want to see chan tonight." she slides it across the desk, a shy smile playing on her lips as she walks away. you glance at it, grimacing at the beta tau seal.

you sigh, pulling your phone to map the walk there from your apartment, receiving a text from your friend, jihyo.

message from: jihyo <3

[9:55pm] hey, you! come with me to a party, i want to scout for booty tonight 👀 i heard beta tau is having one

message to: jihyo <3

[9:57pm] funnily enough, i was about to text you, i got an invite. captain booty reporting for duty 🫡 wear something hot!

— ☆ — — ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —

the party was already in full swing when you and jihyo arrived, pinkies linked. it was apparently a student's birthday party, a short stop on the baseball team. you didn't keep up with the university's sports, but managed to snag a piece of birthday cake in a cup (meaning you dumped the rest of the pink whitney into your cup, and a splash of lemonade) as you let jihyo roam.

"y/n, you made it! you look so hot." you hear minnie from behind you, and you swirl to see her holding onto mingyu. "hey, guys! sick party, my friend jihyo also wanted to come." you shrug, taking a sip from your cup, and minnie gives you a knowing smile.

"hey, don't worry about it. lover boy hasn't kissed anyone since he's been here." minnie moves her head in the direction behind you, and you twist to see chan holding a red solo cup and talking to another student, short with wire rimmed glasses, and a waist you could only dream of. you turn back to minnie, who just winks at you before pulling mingyu away with her.

your body twists to look at chan, trailing your eyes down his figure. he's got on a white muscle tee, and mingyu had not been lying about his body at all. his chest donned what seems to be a rosary, nestled between his pecs that bounced lightly as he laughed. a sliver of his lower stomach was visible, mostly covered by a jacket he likely took off, but the red on the lapels looked good against his skin. silver hoops looped through his lobes and if you didn't sink your teeth into him soon, you were going to combust.

you don't have a crush on chan. not in the slightest. but, you're not blind.

you decided to worm your way to the bathroom, but you didn't realize his friend had spotted you staring. nor that chan's eyes were on you now, wondering what you were doing at a party on a school night, in that short black skirt and soft, flimsy blouse – with no bra. his eyes roll, asking himself why you manage to torture him this way. your coat is long, and covers most of your thighs as you walk away. he winces at the twitch of his cock against his pants.

"professor! what are you doing here!" you hear yugyeom shout from across the room, eliciting a woo from all the people at the party. you smile, and hold up your cup. "hey, yug!"

he waves you over, and you oblige, downing the rest of your drink. "here, try this! i made it." he holds up a long, brown bottle – and you smirk, letting him pour it into your mouth. a bunch of students are watching you down this burning liquor without a second thought, a low whistle emitting from one in particular.

tall, handsome. nicely chiseled face, hair slicked back. barely dressed. slutty.

not chan.

"who invited the trophy wife of the administration? that was hot as fuck." he leans on soyeon, who huffs and shoves him off. "shut up, san."

minnie screams before you can answer. "i invited her! she's cool as fuck, drinks up and tits out for professor y/l/n! wooo!" the crowd that had formed around you took their drinks, a few girls flashing their breasts at you. you let a laugh rip through you when you spot jihyo smiling at you in the crowd before knocking back the rest of her drink. you point to the hallway, signaling you're going to continue your way to a bathroom, before you suffocate on the smell of buchanan's and cheap beer.

the house gets quieter the deeper you go, aside from soft moans coming from a linen closet, obscene wet noises making you shiver as you turn left, finding a clean bathroom. you leave the door slightly ajar as you splash cool water on your cheeks. you let it drip through your lashes before you grab for the toilet roll, only to see someone slip into the bathroom in the mirror. 

"hey." chan's voice is low as you pat the toilet paper on your face, and you glance at him. "hey. skipped my class for a party, huh?" "what are you doing here?" he doesn't sound upset, moreso amused. his eyes shamelessly rake up your legs, and you give a snort in reply. "minnie invited me, and my friend jihyo wanted to scope out some ass." 

"yeah?" his eyes flicker to yours in the mirror, the violet swirl evident, and you feel your thighs clench in his gaze. your glow starts to change hues, and you roll your eyes as you glow pink instead of your normal yellow. "yeah. why, channie? are you here looking for babes?" you turn, letting the liquor talk as you lean against the sink.

"would it bother you if i was?" he tilts his head, sort of like a lost puppy. you smirk, shaking your head. "why would it bother me if my student wants to get some?" "do you always play this little game with your students, professor?" he takes a step closer, and you curse yourself for glowing a little brighter, but shrug as nonchalantly as you can. "beats being uptight like professor callaghan."

"god, you're so right." he chuckles, before his hands cage you in between his body and the sink. "i bet this glow thing gets really annoying, huh?" "you have no idea." you look up into his eyes, subconsciously tucking your bottom lip under your teeth. you wonder why he’s not questioning the color change, maybe he just knows, maybe he was listening last week. you wonder how many girls he’s gotten with, and how many he’s romanced with those angel eyes of his. "you look good." he says gently, almost as if he's giving you an out. almost as if, he's nervous.

"i taste good, too." you mumble, ghosting your lips over his. you can feel your skin start to singe, but you let him kiss you anyway. you let him lift you onto the sink, parting your legs to stand between them. you let him run his hands up your plush thighs, leaning into the kiss as deep as you can without completely absorbing him.

“can’t you get in trouble for this?” chan doesn’t really care, to be honest. you can tell he doesn’t as he drags his lips down your neck, his fingers tugging your skirt up gently. “hmm, no. not me, anyway. trophy wife of the administration privileges.” 

he laughs against your skin, and you give him a cheeky smile as he kisses your lips again, his thumbs gently working circles into your hips. “i don’t want to do this here. let’s find a room, yeah?” "mmm, i don't think so. students who don't participate in class don't get extra credit." you pout, patting his chest when your phone buzzes in your pocket.

message from: jihyo <3

[11:47pm] saw you dip with cutie, so i cozied up to that mingyu guy

[11:48pm] going back to his, u can get home safe?

[11:49pm] i'll turn around if u can't. bros before hoes 💪🏻

message to: jihyo <3

[11:51pm] go ahead <3 txt me deets l8r he's a massive flirt lol

you slide it back into your pocket, and chan's hands leave your skin. he quietly moves your skirt back into place, and his eyes flicker to meet yours. he doesn't look upset at your rejection, moreso a bit grateful. "you're cute. you ask too many questions, and i'm still upset with you, but you're incredibly cute."

it's just the liquor talking. he won't remember any of this, or change his behavior by tuesday. he seems to hold grudges, but you know it's really just emotional blockage. nothing you can't help with, but everything he won't let you help with.

"maybe come to class and i might let you cum in me. you'd like that, wouldn't you?" you mumble against his lips, a shiver going through his spine. "let me walk you home." he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours. you feel your stomach flip, the gesture so cute you just might let him sleep with you. you capture his lips again, sliding your hand up his chest, fingers softly wrapped at the base of his neck. his hand catches your wrist, sliding it higher.

you give it a soft squeeze as you slither your tongue into his mouth, drawing a soft groan from him. he pulls back, your lips chasing after him as he raises an eyebrow. "who's needy now, huh?" "shut up, let's go." you place a peck to his cheek, and you force your glow back to gold, albeit dimmer than normal. he has his hand on the small of your back as you exit the bathroom. he slides it around your waist, his fingers softly digging into your hip before he stops dead in his tracks. "what?"

you're whispering as you follow his eyes, seeing a blond guy in a baseball jersey staring back at him as he sneaks out of the closet you passed. a girl is gripping his hand, floating behind him. the guy turns on his heels, quickly weaving his way through the people crowding the hall, the girl giving a hazy smile as he drags her through.

"in a closet? really?" he shakes his head, and you feel his hand squeeze your waist. "sorry." "no worries. could've been us if you showed up to class." you tease as he guides you through the crowd, and you spot minnie watching you sneak your way through the people. she wiggles her eyebrows, and you just shake your head as chan opens the front door, letting you out first as he grabs his jacket from his friend.

"shit, it's colder than a witch's tits out here." you chatter, and chan quickly joins you on the porch, sliding the jacket over his arms. "it really is. which way do you live?" the walk is quiet, besides the leaves crunching under your shoes. he's close enough that his cologne meets your nose, but not close enough to where you can touch him and not be overdoing it. the taste of his lips was not enough to satiate you.

"why are you so mean to me?" you ask, not daring to look at him. he hums in response, before grabbing your shoulders, swinging his arm over you. you instinctively wrap your own around his waist, your fingers brushing the same sliver of skin you'd eyed earlier that night. you're burning up against him, and he welcomes the heat as your hips bump.

"i'm normally not this uptight." he starts, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "i don't like answering questions about my personal life, much less my abilities. or lack thereof, rather. it was too soon when you asked, i'm still trying to figure myself out. i'm very lost in that area of my life, and if i don't find out soon, i'm not sure how i'll make a living. please don't think i'm only this way with you, i'm just feeling stuck. it's like i'm running out of time." you take in his words, nodding silently. you know your magic is taking over him as he speaks, because you feel your glow dimming more and more as you keep walking. "i don't know what that feels like, chan. i'm sorry, genuinely. i truly do want you to understand that i am here to help as much as i can, not just as a professor but as…a friend, i guess." "mmh, i don't think you can help." he squeezes your arm gently as you make a left turn. "i'm too far gone, i believe. i thought about what you said, the emotional blockage thing. and i know that you're using your fingers to seep your funky little magic into me so i talk about myself and get things moving for your peace of mind." his fingers pat yours lingering on his hip, and you sheepishly go to move them.

he holds them in place, as you guide him to the gate of your complex. "i don't mind talking to you, or answering your questions. i really, really admire you as a person and sorceress. the selflessness, you're one of the kindest people i've ever had the pleasure of meeting. you just have to give me some time to warm up to you."

he stops in front of the gate, letting you punch in the code before sliding his arm off your shoulders. "i want to apologize for my behavior. i know i've been increasingly bitchy and standoffish, i'm just stressed. i'm sorry, and i'm sorry for taking it out on you. i know you're just trying to help."

"won't you come in? it's rather late and i'd hate to have you walk back alone." your eyes are slightly pleading, and he raises a brow. "are you sure?" 

you shrug, holding the gate open. he walks past you, not comfortable enough to slide his arm over you once more. he feels the warmth of you as you float past, and he follows quietly. unlocking the door, his eyes peer into your apartment, and it's just like your classroom. 

the lights are dimmed, and your couch is the same velvety green. it smells like bambinella pear and bergamot, and your walls are littered with photos and articles. many of them penned by you, he notices, as he skims them. "feel at home?" you chuckle, and he hears the rustling of your coat as you slip it off.

"mhm, it smells nice in here." he nods as he continues observing articles, before bumping into your side table. he looks down and sees a newspaper from seven years ago, a smiling face staring back at him.

spellbound prodigy involved in an automobile accident puts the world of wizardry at risk.

he skims the paper, seeing your name repeated over and over again but yet, no mention of the person in the photo. no age, no name.

"oh, you found that?" you're behind him, and you take hold of the paper, letting it droop over your hands. "who is that?" you sigh, your fingernail tracing the man's face. "minhwi. he was my best friend from primary school until the summer of 2017. that's when the accident happened." setting the paper back down, you pat the picture before floating to the kitchen, your golden glow gone as it begins to turn dark red.

"it's grief, the hue." you wave your hand at yourself as chan leans against the island, his eyes softening as you pour water in a glass, sliding it to him. the color dims as you turn to him, sitting on the bar stool. "i know, you're wondering how i'm involved in the accident."

chan looks down, and you let out an airy chuckle. "god, i hate talking about this." you rub your thighs, before looking up. "he told me he was in love with someone, and i encouraged him to make the hour drive to see her. i even offered to tag along, even though it was into the human world."

you're nervous, and chan can feel it. he rounds the island, sliding onto the stool beside you. you twist to face him as he takes your hands in his. how cute, you think.

"there was a really bad thunderstorm, but minhwi literally used to race cars for money. rain or shine, he was an expert behind the wheel. he won so many, and i was there for almost all of them. he called me his biggest cheerleader." chan's thumb wipes at your face, and you hadn't even known you were crying. you feel your chest ache as his hand lingers, before dropping back to your lap. "lightning struck one of the oak trees lining the backway route into town. minhwi tried to swerve out of the way, and we wound up spinning out. the tree landed on the car, and the weight crushed us, and there was glass everywhere. he died on impact."

you sniffle, and chan's eyes are glossy as he clears his throat. "and you blame yourself?" "absolutely." nodding, you interlace your fingers with chan's. "and the fact that i survived and he didn't, it kills me inside. it's not like he would've been able to, he was a…" you trail off, and chan's eyes match yours in size.

"...he was human." he finished, and you can't look at him. "you exposed the world of magic and our practices, to a human." you stay silent, before his arms envelope you in a hug. the burn you feel is almost debilitating, but you feel blue crawling up your neck as he rubs your back softly. "i'm sorry for your loss, y/n."

"that's it?" you blurt, and he laughs against your neck like he did earlier. "yeah, it's not like i can judge you, and it's not like humans don't know we exist. we're just frowned upon, it's not a crime to involve yourself with them. love makes us do crazy things." he pulls back, and you let blue overtake you. "i'm genuinely sorry about your friend. he sounds like he was a great time." "he was. i haven't talked about him since. all i have left is the scars from the accident." you shrug, taking a sip of your water. "scars?"

you flash a smile at him, before shaking your head. "just know, if i ever do let you in my pants, the shirt stays on, not because i'm insecure but because i hate looking at them."

he nods, a shy look crossing his eyes before he closes them. "can i ask you for a favor? before you go to bed, i mean?" "sure, anything." you tuck your hair behind your ears, sitting up. "that emotional blockage you spoke about, you can…remove that, right? i'm not too sure what your powers are." he mumbles as he picks at his nails, and you smile. "i can. would you like me to do that for you?" his eyes look to yours, and you see fear flash through them. "it doesn't hurt, channie. come on, i can do it right now." you slide off the stool, holding your hand out to him. he takes your hand, but instead of following you, he pulls you towards him.

your chest is flush to his, and you see a subtle blush on his cheeks as he dips his head, lips brushing against yours. you relax in his hold, letting your lips mold against his. you can't feel anything but heat and his tongue teasing yours, but it's no big deal (you're trying to convince yourself at this point.) his hands move to hold your face, his fingers burning your skin when he pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours.

"not tonight, i don't think i'm ready." he whispers against your lips, and you open your eyes to look into his hazy ones. nodding, you press another chaste kiss on his mouth. "whenever you're ready, channie. i'll be here."

"i'll take the couch." he plants one last kiss on your forehead, and you nod. "if you insist. goodnight, channie." "goodnight, y/n." he watches your glowing form trail down the hall, likely towards your bedroom.

and he sees a hint of indigo spreading across your back as you shut the door behind you.

tuesday – december 15.

chan is a lot nicer as the next two weeks go by. still shows up to class, even early, since your escapade after the party. he finds himself staring at you more often than not, and you're not the only one who notices.

minnie often slips you knowing looks, and you find yourself growing shy as you look to see chan peeking at you over his laptop, eyes glowing that bright violet you've come to adore.

"alright, everybody. have a good weekend!" you smile cheerfully as they file out, your glow now bright blue. the girls had mentioned you looked much more relaxed these days, and you attributed it to 'more sleep.'

you didn't really know what it was. you'd woken up glowing indigo the day after the party, and almost everyday after that. you flickered indigo when you caught chan in the hallway before class on tuesday, and when he hung back a little too long on thursday. really, if you even glanced at chan, you'd flash the dark color and leave the students rubbing at their eyes.

chan, on the other hand, was constantly looking for ways to talk to you.

he saw the flustered flickering, the confusion of your body as it glitched from hue to hue. at one point you had splotches of indigo, pink and your natural gold all over you. you still flirted back at mingyu's advances, albeit he calmed down noticeably. he observed that mingyu was on his phone more often, and you later found out through minnie that he was utterly romanced by jihyo. you thought it funny, and teased him about it (and jihyo, the next time you saw her for coffee and pastries.)

"hey, can we talk?" chan is standing behind you as you wave off your students, and you jump at the closeness. "sure, channie. what's up? is this about your final project?"

it wasn't an unreasonable question. the semester was coming to an end, the students looked visibly stressed and you hadn't heard of any parties since.

but, you knew it was unreasonable for your situation with chan. you never missed his longing glances at your lips, or the fact that he was early to class. his friends changbin and jisung often trailed behind him as he walked to class, and he only introduced you to them because they wouldn't stop badgering him at the doorway. "she's even prettier up close," jisung had said dreamily, and you just gave him a soft smile as you watched him bump into the doorframe.

"not really? maybe." he rubs his neck, and you tilt your head. "what's going on?" 

"uh, i think i'm ready. for what we talked about…the night of the party." he swallows thickly, and you feel taken aback. "oh? what brought this on?" you float to the back, patting the same couch he sits in during class. you tuck your legs under you, holding your head up with the wall. his knees brush yours as he sits, and you wince at the heat you feel in your chest.

"i started the essay you assigned last night." he can't look at you, and you find your stomach to grow increasingly tight. "yeah?" "i can't write anything. i have six drafts already, and i feel so overwhelmed." he's nibbling on his lip, almost as though not to cry. you lean closer, his eyes glassy as they meet yours. frowning, your hand finds home on his jaw, your thumb wiping a few fallen tears. "i'm here, i can help. we can do it here." 

you get up, moving the tables back towards the walls. he watches you as you move, and your back is splotched with indigo. he still doesn't know what it means, but you shiver as it creeps up your neck. your hand flies to your nape, rubbing your skin. it dissipates, returning to your golden glow.

"need an open space. are you sure?" you motion for him to join you in the center of the room, and he nods. you can already feel the same heat on your skin as he settles in front of you, and the same eerie cold of indigo on your shoulders. you huff, sliding your cardigan onto the floor and rolling up your sleeves. "i have to touch your skin for this, okay? and don't worry about anything else, just keep your eyes on me." he's nervous as he lets you take his shaky hands, a soft pout on your lips as you close your eyes. "i got you, okay? i won't let anything hurt you, you're strong." you're muttering, but he finds comfort in your words. he's sure you say this to everybody.

until you start glowing a blinding blaze of indigo, your face scrunched, wincing as the room cools significantly. you're brighter than he's ever seen, possibly brighter than the fluorescent lights that line the university halls. your grimace grows as you furrow your brows deeply, the glow around you seemingly like a flame. he just watches silently as you drop one of his hands.

"can you lift your shirt for me?" your voice is strangled. your eyes are screwed shut, and he quickly does so, your hand trembling as it makes contact. your skin feels like it's on fire, and you don't know what's happening that you can only hear ringing. you'd never felt anything this intensely, but you persist as your hand palms around his torso, before reaching the center. you splay your fingers, pressing into his skin. 

you flash green for a second, so quick he almost misses it.

sliding your hand up his chest, you find the base of his throat. a sigh slips through your lips, and you pull him closer. placing his hand on your waist before moving yours in his hair. you flash slightly pink as he slips his other hand on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. 

"this might feel a little cold." you murmur, and you dim entirely. the glow around you is now gone, a soft grey floating off you. it runs to the floor, like sand, and forms different grainy figures. kind of like…sandcastles. you open your eyes, despite the damn near inferno heat where your skin meets his.

"these are all your blockages." you pull his shirt down, and move his hands from your hips. to your right, is a grainy woman that splits into several more women. next to her, are two figures, who seem to disappear into another figure, a forest. you skirt around him, holding him in place with a hand on his hip. behind him, is another figure.

shaped kind of like you. your thighs, your arms, your hair.

"what…do they mean?" you're snapped out of your process by his voice, and you sigh. "this one…channie, you have to find better coping mechanisms. sleeping with women for stress relief is not good for you. i know it feels good, but there are other things you can do. ever tried puzzles?"

you sink to the floor, pulling him with you. you move the figures next to each other in front of you, the sand-like texture sticking to your skin. gesturing to the women, you keep talking.

"casual sex is awful, when you compare it to relationship sex. shit, even hate sex. at least you feel something other than lust for the person you're fucking." you grimace, and he nods. with a wave of your hand, the sand collapses. "these next three…you can pick which you want first." he glances at them, his hand subconsciously searching for yours. you grab it, and he points at the two people. you let your skin burn as you begin to talk, his fingers tightening around your palm. "these…are your parents, and the forest around the university." the room stills, and chan lets go of your hand. "what about them?" "you're afraid they're not proud of you. you feel like you're missing out on your experiences with them, because…" you wince as an aftershock racks your body, making you shiver. you miss chan's nervous glance. "because they're distant. you feel like an outcast from your family, and it affects the way you form bonds here. it's hard for you to build friendships, and it's hard for you to establish relationships because you fear being loved. or maybe loving, and not being loved back"

taking a breath, you pull your knees to your chest.

"the forest is representative of your lost feeling. all the trees look the same, and it makes you feel like you're constantly going in circles. everyone here is identical, we all have something special. you find it hard to relate because although you know there is something that makes you like us, you're unaware of what it is." he nods, and you let the figures drop.

"this one…" you're mumbling, and he leans slightly closer to hear you. sighing, you pull the figure of you closer. raising your arm, the figure raises her arm. "that's me." his head snaps to look at you, your eyes burning holes into the floor. you glance at the figure, collapsing it. all the figures pool together, and you lean forward, blowing it like you would dust off a bookshelf. it disappears, and chan leans back on his hands.

"what about you?" he murmurs, and you shake your head, moving to lie through your teeth. "i don't know." "you're lying." you feel your glow return, flickering gold. "y/n, tell me what it means." "i can't." you shrug, "i don't know what it means. did this help? do you feel better?"

he's peering at you, his eyes swirling violet. you raise a brow as you look at him over your shoulder, and he just shakes his head. getting up, he stalks back to the couch. you watch as he shoves his arms into his hoodie, and you simply get up, floating towards your desk.

he grabs your arm, pulling you closer to him. you sense the frost of indigo across your mid-back. you turn his hold, eyes glued to his fingers wrapped around your arm. "why?"

"hm?" "why can't you tell me?" his eyes are insistent in their violet glory. chills run down your back, indigo spreading over your hips as you run your eyes over him. he's so beautiful. "because…i can't reciprocate."

he doesn't understand, you can tell as he keeps looking at you. kind of like he wants to eat you alive, but also like he wants you to vanish.

"it means you're in love with me, or you will be. you don't like the idea of it, because it means you'll have to open up to me. that kind of…figure doesn't change, even if you want it to. you won't get the option to leave me out of your heart, and it will be unrequited for the rest of our lives. you will love me, forever, and you won't get a say in it." he lets go, brows furrowed, and his face is deep red in embarrassment. you take a step forward, and your hands instinctively reach for his waist. he allows it as he crosses his arms across his chest, his eyes fixated on you, waiting for you to speak.

"i can't love, chan." you whisper, and feel indigo overwhelm you. pursing your lips, you look down so as to not let him see the tears forming. "trust me when i say i wish i could. i wish i could love you, the way you deserve. i could wake up every morning and reach for you, but you would never be there because i can't give you what you need." the tears are dripping off your face now, pattering on the rug beneath your feet. you let go of him, your fingers tugging your shirt up, slipping it over your head. your hair falls to your shoulders, and you push it back, dropping your shirt on your desk. his eyes soften as he looks at the curve of the wide scar – like an insignia, it's carved into your skin. it starts on your shoulder, curving around it the way a fallen bra strap would. it trails down your sternum, before splitting at your diaphragm. a sharp point ends right under your left breast, while the other curves to the right of your belly button, ending on your hip.

"there is nothing i could do in this world that could ever get me in trouble, because i have this." speaking softly, you lift the cup of your bra, showing him where x marks the spot – directly above your heart. "the coven said this was my punishment for minhwi's involvement in this world, and the outrage i sparked. i can't feel love, and i haven't for so long that even if i did, i wouldn't know what it's like. i won't ever feel what it's like to be loved again, because i don't deserve it."

chan's eyes are glossed over as he brings his hand to your skin, the singe making you grimace as his fingers trace the border lightly. he tucks his lip in his teeth as he touches your shoulder, and your glow flickers slightly brighter. he pulls you in, burying his nose in your hair. "everyone deserves love. this is not your fault, i'm sorry things happened this way." you pull back, his eyes glistening with tears as he thumbs the scar on your shoulder. you give him a sad smile, shrugging in his hold. "it's life. life goes on, but for what it's worth…if i could, i'm sure you'd take great care of me."

"i still can." he says, reaching for your shirt. "i'm a pleaser, really. reciprocation has never been an issue." 

"are you seriously making a pass at me? after i just told you all of that? have some shame." you let an airy chuckle slip through your lips as you take your shirt from him, and he just smiles. one, two dimples. "not being able to love doesn't mean you shouldn't be able to cum. just saying." you gasp, landing a gentle smack on his arm before sliding your shirt on. "chan, stop it! what did i say about casual sex, hm?" pointing an accusatory finger in his direction, he cages you between your desk and his firm chest. "didn't we just talk about this? you know it's not casual." you know it's not casual.

"just once, think about yourself, yeah? do yourself a favor." he places a chaste kiss on your nose, and you feel your cheeks heat as he peppers his lips over them. you let a giggle bubble in your throat, his lips stopping over your lips. "just think about it." he gives your lips a quick kiss, before pulling back.

"it's late, let me walk you home?" he offers a gentle look in his eyes. you just nod, grabbing your purse from the back of your desk. you decide you'll move the tables back on thursday, sliding your cardigan up your arms. "aren't you cold?" he asks, sliding his arm over your shoulders like he did the night of the party, as you lock the classroom door.

"no, actually. i don't know if you feel it, but every time you touch me, i feel like i'm on fire." you chuckle lightly as you start walking, and his breath hitches. glancing at him, he just moves the two of you forward. "chan?" "mhm?" he doesn't look at you, and you stop walking. crossing your arms, he sighs. "it's not a big deal." he shrugs, trying to shake the subject by tugging you slightly closer. you frown, wrapping your arms around his waist. your eyes are fixed on him, and he can't help but coo.

"you're so pretty." he squishes your face with his free hand, and continues walking forward. "does it bother you?" you ask, your fingers drumming on his hip. the air is so frigid, and so is indigo as it fights chan's warmth. you just have to let me warm up to you.

he did so awfully fast.

"does what bother me?" he's tracing circles in your shoulder, the movement scorching. he seems so relaxed, so unperturbed by anything. you'd never seen his face so calm, used to the furrow of his brows or the bags under his eyes darker than they should be. "the fact that i won't be able to love you back." he chuckles, fingers squeezing your shoulder. "i'm used to it, as pathetic as it sounds. love is not my forte, or for the people around me. jisung is surprisingly able to get into almost anyone's pants, and can't settle down for shit. changbin is sickeningly in love with his best friend, and do you remember that guy we saw at the party? the one sneaking out of the closet?" 

you nod, and he laughs. "that's seungmin. that girl he was with, they broke up back in august. they've been fucking around ever since. if they're both at a party, they're hooking up. can't seem to stay away from each other, in a desperate attempt to stay on each other's minds, i guess? it's cute, i think." he shrugs. you feel your heart skip a beat, looking  down to see a white glow on your chest. you ignore it, probably glowing silver as you feel the emptiness, the longing to understand what he means.

"so no. it doesn't bother me, it never will. you get used to it."

it pains you a bit, to hear him sound so…well, used to it. so accustomed to settlement, so unbothered by a lack of reciprocation. selfless, really.

wednesday – december 16.

chan wound up spending the night at your apartment. he insisted on taking the couch before you physically pulled him into your room. the moment his back hit the mattress, he ate his words as you tickled him, forcing him to admit that it was more comfortable.

really, you'd just wanted an excuse to wake up next to him. maybe see his bed head, run your fingers through it, exchange a morning kiss. all of that stupid couple shit that you would never fully experience.

because love makes you do stupid things, like spin out on a backroad and die. so you don't deserve to feel it, and really, it keeps you safe. you have no idea what it's like to love anymore and you pretend you're okay with it. you soothe by saying that not all can be felt, not all that can be desired should be had.

but fuck, if you didn't like chan before, you certainly do now.

there's no reason for this. for him standing in your living room, holding a cup of coffee as he reads through the articles you've written and framed. for him to look so cute in your old abba shirt that's too tight on his arms, for his eyes to be swollen with sleep as he blinks over the mug. for him to be so effortlessly unaware of his beauty, of his own effects. on you, on the people in his life.

"you're up." his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you feel your cheeks heat as you nod. "your hair is a mess. here, let me fix it." 

he sets down his cup, calmly running his hand through your mussed hair. the curls fight him as he tucks them behind your ears, his fingers lingering on your lobes as you stare at him. your indigo glow reflects on his skin, his head tilted as he speaks. "what? cat got your tongue, professor?"

your mouth opens to retort, but you have nothing to say. nothing comes out. you feel orange flicker through you as you close your mouth, earning a squeaky laugh from the man in front of you. "cute. there's coffee in the kitchen, i just made it." 

he doesn't have morning classes on wednesdays, you figure as he follows you to the kitchen. because it's eleven thirty and he's still in your apartment, in your shirt, with his hands on your waist, and you don't care one bit as you pour yourself a cup of coffee.

"are you upset? you haven't said a word." his thumbs work into the small of your back, and you shudder at his touch, before you shake your head. "i'm not used to having people here so early." "it's nearly noon, y/n." he laughs airily, his breath tickling your neck. "still, so early." 

you try and ignore the heat in your chest, far stronger than it had ever been before as his fingers carefully dip below the waistband of your sweats, coming out just as quickly. "you weren't in bed when i woke up." you're muttering, but his proximity makes him hear you anyway.

"aw, did you want to wake up in my arms like they do in the movies?" he's teasing you. you scoff in embarrassment, eyes not catching the subtle white glow on your chest as you turn in his hold. "no way, pft. i like spreading my limbs like a starfish, you were crowding me all night." "hey, i offered to take the couch." he shrugs, and you just shake your head. "should've insisted a little more, then i wouldn't have felt so cold when i realized you weren't there." you joke as you set down your cup, and he raises a brow. "didn't think it would bother you, but that can be fixed." "chan–" you squeal as he hooks his arms under your thighs, your own flying to his shoulders. your legs wrap around his waist as he marches the both of you to your bedroom. "chan, don't you have classes today?" "don't you?" he kisses your forehead gently as he sets you down on your bed, pushing you back lightly. you roll your eyes, trying to hide your excitement as he slips under your duvet. he tugs you closer, your back to his chest. if he cares about the scorching heat of your skin touching, he doesn't mention it as he settles his head in the crook of your neck, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. he holds your hand tightly, nestling it between your breasts. "if you wanted to touch my boobs, you could've just asked." "shut up, let me hold you. be selfish, for once." he nips at your earlobe, and you sigh. tender kisses trail your neck, and you can feel pink creeping down your thighs as he gives your hand a squeeze. "is this okay?"

"mhm." you can't speak as he lets go of your hand, fingers dancing across the exposed skin of your hip where your shirt has ridden up. he doesn't go up, but instead softly dips into the waistband of your sweats, snapping your underwear against your skin. a whine slips, and you freeze as he pauses. "should i stop?" his voice is raspy in your ear, and your hand grabs his wrist, bringing it lower. "it's alright. you can keep going. f-further, if you want."

you curse yourself at the stutter, hearing a soft chuckle in his throat as his fingers pad over the fabric of your panties. your breath hitches in your throat as he circles the wet spot you've been presented with, a shaky sigh escaping chan as he rocks against you. you feel pink envelope in its warmth as you turn onto your back, holding his hand in place as you capture his lips. he kisses you back fervently, his fingers never stopping their movements on your clothed heat. 

"c-can you…" you whimper against his lips, his hand never slowing as you move against it, brows furrowed. he watches as you try to form words, your eyes screwed shut as your hand tugs his away. "can you go d-down on me?" barely a whisper as you peel your eyes open, and he swears they hold the stars.

"i'd kill a man if you asked me." he shrugs, and you just roll your eyes. tugging your sweats off, he gets a glimpse of the way your panties stick to your lower lips, his heart racing in his chest knowing he's got you soaking.

he could make you cum with them on. he's positive.

spreading your thighs slowly, he watches as you hook your thumbs into the waistband. he pushes your hands away, not bothering to address your confusion as he holds them in place, sinking between your legs. he can't help but tease, dragging his soft lips up your skin, watching you shudder at the contact. he moves to grip your hips, your shirt rising and the end of your scar becoming visible. his eyes flicker to yours, "shirt stays on, right?"

"y-yeah." you look away, and he rubs your hip reassuringly. "s'alright, baby. i can make you cum just like this, if you want."

it's not a question, you can tell as he kisses the pink cotton of your panties. he has no intention of taking them off, he might not even fuck you, but you don't care. all that matters are his eyes peering into your fucking soul as he dips his head down, a chaste kiss pressed to your hip. he trails down, hands circling your plush thighs as he litters them with kisses. your eyes are watching him nervously, lip tucked under your teeth to stop the soft pants from echoing the room. you feel like you can't breathe as he pulls you closer to his face, pressing that strong nose into you, inhaling deeply. "you smell so fucking good, baby." he's not even doing anything, but the vibrations of his moan against you elicit a whimper from your throat, making you buck your hips forward. his grip tightens as he nuzzles his nose against your clit, placing a soft kiss on it before he speaks against it.

"be nice, or i'll make you scream." he smiles into your underwear, tonguing your clit through the fabric. he watches as your glow grows brighter, pulling you impossibly closer. he's letting you grind on his face, to use him for your pleasure, and you'd be lying if that doesn't make you that much more wet for him. "y-you don't want to take them off?"

your stuttering is adorable to him, and the way your fingers card through his hair and tug adds to his own pleasure. shaking his head, he snaps the waistband against you again, "you're so needy, aren't you? can't get off just like this?" "channie, p-please. please, i want your f-fingers." he hums against your clit, continuing his cruel lapping, the sound of your pussy against his face obscene and sloppy. "you can beg better than that. tell me how bad you want it, baby." "w-want it so bad, channie, please. please, i'll be g-good for you, p-promise. s-so good." you're almost sobbing, and he almost feels bad. a gentle laugh leaves his throat as he thumbs your slit, leaving sticky strings against his skin as he gives in. "so good? so, so good for me? is that right?" he slides the flimsy fabric down your legs, the exposure to the cool air making you shiver. he's watching your face contort as he collects your arousal on his fingers, before slowly teasing your entrance. "i swear to god, chan-" your retort gets cut off by a gasp, his fingers hitting just right, his lips sucking tortuously on your clit. he likes it messy, is all you can think in your fucked out state as you coat his entire hand in your slick, feeling him groan against your pussy.

"look at you, so pretty. you're a good girl for me, right? you're gonna soak the sheets, hm?" he feels you clamp around his fingers, another wave of your arousal glazing his palm as you sob. "fuck, you sound so hot." "c-channie..." you rasp, your voice so low he almost misses it. he peers at you over your soft tummy, your lips swollen and covered in your spit from biting back your moans. you're actively whining, grinding against his hand in a weak attempt at reaching your release. "aw, baby wants to cum? is that it?"

you whimper, making him curl his fingers inside your wet heat. he seemed to have found the perfect spot as you arched your back off the bed, attempting to pull away from him. his left arm holds you tightly in place, your fingers clutching his wrist as your choked moan rings blissfully in his ears. your thighs close around him, his soft shh doing nothing to quiet you down as you let your orgasm wrack your legs. his lips pepper kisses all over your pelvis, mumbles of praises as he works his way up. 

he hovers over your face, pressing his soft lips on your cheek. you wrap your arms around his neck, shivering at the way his fingers pinch your clothed nipple lightly. "you can give me one more, right? just one more, princess." he's murmuring against your skin, and you nod as he reaches your lips. 

"just one more?" you nip at his lower lip, before sinking in to kiss him. "just one. want to feel you around me, want to know how good i'm making you feel." you realize it's important to chan, despite what he said the night before. he wanted to be praised, he wanted to make somebody proud, even if this was the only way he felt he could do it. he could act like he's this statue, this emotionless, needless creature of nature – but he also desired approval, to be needed, to be wanted.

to be loved.

you don't say anything as you let his hands push your knees to your chest, his lips now suckling on your nipple through your shirt. your hands move to his head, pushing it away as you go to slip it off. his hands let go of your legs, entwining your fingers with his brows furrowed. "you don't have to." "i want to." you quip back quickly, tugging your fingers out of his grasp. you hook them at the hem of your shirt, lightly lifting off the bed to slide it off. he hesitates, his eyes tracing the curves of the raised skin. the way it glows lightly, almost as though it's losing its defined edges.

his eyes flicker to yours, your gaze intently scanning his face. did you think he'd be disgusted? maybe even repulsed? lowering his head, he brushed a kiss to your lips, before he allowed himself to sink to your chest. you breathed in nervously, your fingers gripping the sheets next to your body when you felt his mouth planting feather-light touches to your scar.

he can feel your skin heat under his face, the more he travels along the healed welt. the glow is slightly brighter than your overall pink, as you shudder under him, his hands pulling your fingers into his, the crumpled sheets forgotten as he pins your arms above your head.

"you're so beautiful. gorgeous, ethereal. no words could express how lovely you are." he whispers as he presses one final kiss where x marks the spot, and you jolt lightly at the singe you feel. it spreads, the whole insignia across your torso burning deeply as he moves back. his eyes are flashing with something you can't read. "chan…" "sorry." he shakes his head, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hands. you tilt your head at him, before glancing at his body, a smile spreading on your plump lips. "are you going to fuck me with all your clothes on?"

"i can." he smiles, and you raise an eyebrow. "off, all of it." 

standing off the side of your bed, he tugs your old abba shirt off, and you watch with sinful eyes as he flings it away. "stop staring at me." he whispers, and you shake your head playfully. "you said you'd kill a man if i asked, and gave me the best head of my life, but i can't watch you strip?" 

"the best, huh?" he ignores everything else he slips his sweats off, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed. "don't get cocky, or this won't count as extra c-credit." your eyes peer at him, the leaking head of his thick cock already teasing your folds lightly. his hands circle your legs once more, pulling one over his shoulder while folding the other close to your chest. he stares at your soaked cunt, the way it clenches around nothing. so inviting, so wet, so ready for him.

"that's alright, let's count it as the first class i missed. what was it, getting to know me? ask me something." he continues his teasing, watching as you squirm against him. "uhm, o-okay. what's your favorite color?"

"really?" he rubs against you lightly, his tip dragging over your clit so menacingly, you swear you could cum from just that. "hm, i like black." "black is an ab-absence of color, fuck." you dig your nails into your thighs as he shallowly thrusts into you, the lack of warning wracking a shudder up your spine. "mm, if you can't keep talking there's going to be an absence of dick in about two seconds."

"n-no, no please. shit, that feels so good." you can't keep your eyes open as he slowly sinks further into you, stilling his movements as you tuck your lip into your teeth. "ah, ah. eyes open, keep talking to me." his fingers lightly tap your cheek, your skin burning in embarrassment as you peel your eyes open. "next question, baby." "b-biggest accomplishment so f-far?" you swallow thickly as his hips are flush against your ass, allowing you to adjust to the size of him before making any more movements. he leans his head against your ankle, brows furrowed as he speaks. "probably making you cum so hard, you cry." you narrow your eyes as you look at him, "you h-haven't, though?" "but i will." he kisses your shin, giving an experimental thrust of his hips. your eyes flutter shut, a silent gasp from your lips turning to soft mewls as he starts a gentle pace. "next question." "d-do you believe in love at first s-sight?" you feel him hesitate, before he gives you a particularly harsh thrust. "somewhat." he rubs your thigh gently before continuing his brutal ministrations. "harder, please." silently, he obliges, letting your breathy moans fill his ears instead of talking. he hates talking, he hates answering questions, but he can't help and adore the tone of your voice, the softness of your queries, the avoidance in answering his.

"you feel so good, channie, holy shit." he can feel you clenching tightly around him, but lets your praise take precedence. the way you're arching your back off the mattress, hairline lined with beads of sweat as you let him fuck into you, just the way you like. the way you seem to love, as he lowers to whisper in your ear. "next question."

the proximity makes everything feel like it's a thousand degrees, your hands flying to his hair as he sucks on your collarbone lightly. "favorite s-song? ah!' you hiss at his teeth on your skin, feeling his grin against you.

"your voice." his thrusts are slowly becoming less steady, but you don't care. you don't care because his skin is scorching hot, he's holding you to him, you can feel the air of his pants against your neck and he feels so good.

there's no reason for this. for him to be blissfully ruining you while holding you flush to his chest, your nipples touching with every roll of his hips. for him to look so good while he defiles you, the way you're not even speaking coherently in his ear. for your soul to feel like it's aching for more of him, but how much more could you have when you can't love him. for him to be so effortlessly unaware of his beauty, of his own effects, on you, as the white-hot of your orgasm starts approaching fast.

"i…" you feel a sob rip through you, and he instinctively pulls away from you. "hey, hey. it's alright, baby." guilt fills his chest, his hands holding your face as the tears stream down your cheeks. "it's alright, we don't have to–" pushing yourself up on your elbows, you smash your lips to his, feeling yourself glow so hot you're practically on fire. it's all teeth and tongue, and you're wrapping your fingers around his throat before he can react. squeezing gently, he whines into your mouth, his hips snapping erratically against you. you swallow his sounds in your quiet sobs, the tears dripping down your neck doing nothing to cool you down. 

"y/n…" he whines pitifully against your lips, and you can feel his pout emerge as you clench around him. he settles his face in the crook of your neck, cheeks flushed. "p-please don't stop, don't stop, e-ever…" you're just as needy as he is, throwing your head back as he bites at your shoulders, your hand on his throat tightening as he sends you over the edge.

"fuck, baby." the whimper into your shoulder does nothing good for him as you clench around him, milking whatever is left of him, hips driving you both into overstimulation. he slows, his head lifting from your shoulder to peer into your eyes. you avoid them, letting go of his throat and wiping them off with the back of your hand.

the room feels heavy, with guilt. shame. maybe even a bit of hatred, but you’re not entirely sure as he kisses you gently, chastely, before pulling back. his eyes hold the sun, the stars, the moon.

"guess you got your biggest accomplishment, huh?" you chuckle thickly, and he shakes his head, pulling out slowly. his eyes avert to your center, watching his cum drip out of you slowly. he feels weird, it's such a waste. "are you okay? i should've asked sooner, i'm sorry." "no, no. it was…it was really good." you admit, feeling your glow flicker. you close your legs, scooting up on the bed as he reaches for your shirt, you cross your arms over your chest, fingers digging into your sides. "i really liked it, actually." "are you sure?" he's absent, you can tell as he wipes the back of your legs gently, before tossing the shirt over his shoulder. "i'm sorry for crying, i know it was really sudden. i just felt so overwhelmed and you felt so good, and i…" you trail off, and he feels his cheeks heat, shaking his head again. "no, it's fine. that was the goal, after all. i…do you want me to go?" your brows furrow, and you tilt your head. "go? why would i want you to go?" he shrugs, not meeting your eyes as he tugs on his sweatpants. "i don't know, i usually leave after…things like this." "what happened to 'you know it's not casual?'" you use air quotes, and you see his cheeks burn bright red. "i…i don't think i'd be able to do this, especially after what we talked about yesterday."

"do…what? we just had sex, it's not a big deal." you uncross your arms, ignoring your blatant nudity as he slips your abba shirt to you, taking it just to toss it to the side. "...act like i don’t care. i really, really like you, y/n, and i already feel so guilty about this." he can't look at you as he slips his hoodie on, the one you'd thrown over your desk chair last night when he said it was too hot to wear to bed.

you close your mouth, pressing your lips into a firm line as you grab the shirt, tugging it over your head. "i figured this would happen. maybe you should go, chan. clear your head, and we can talk later."

your brows are furrowed as you open your bedroom door, and he swallows thickly. he knew what he was getting himself into, so why does it bother him now? he said he wouldn't care, he said it so confidently.

and yet, he can't bring himself to say a word as he slams out of your apartment, eyes full of tears. leaving you feeling dejected, guilty and alone.

thursday – december 17.

it wasn't until the next day that you noticed it was significantly smaller.

it didn't curve under your breast anymore, the subtle x on your skin gone. it didn't wrap around your shoulder anymore, and it stopped right next to your navel. the scarred skin was now a bit paler, and you'd grimaced as you tugged your shirt on.

you couldn't be arsed with thinking about it, really, because now you had to walk into your classroom and face chan. of course, the chances of him not being there were fifty-fifty.

which inherently, made you feel worse.

you didn't understand why you couldn't stop thinking about his words, and what he said. your voice was his favorite song, he didn't care if you loved him or not, he somewhat believed in love at first sight? he'd met you officially a little over a month ago, no one can fall in love that quickly.

groaning, you felt orange flicker across your body as you let your heels clack against the saltillo tile of the hallway, tossing your half-empty coffee cup in the trash can. upon entering your room, the air feels…cooler.

chan is sitting on the couch, his legs squished together as minnie and shuhua peer at his face. soyeon, mingyu and yugyeom are flipping through various textbooks, each talking about what could have caused a sudden irischroma shift. he probably feels the heat of your stare, his eyes flickering to yours.

they're a deep, deep indigo color. they flash lightly at the sight of you, and minnie looks up to see you standing at your podium. "y/n…you've gotta come see this." "i can…i can see it, minnie." your voice is faint as you feel your chest searing hot, your hand coming to soothe it. clearing your throat, you shake your head as you feel a little weary, shuhua approaching you quickly. "are you okay? y/n?" "yes, i'm okay." your breathing becomes a little labored, soyeon and mingyu rushing to your side as you sink to the floor. "just give me some room." your hands touch the cool floor, and you can feel yourself dimming by the second. 

"gyu, get help." minnie shoves mingyu out the door, and you can hear his footsteps fading as he runs to the infirmary. "chan, help me pick her up." yugyeom urges, and you weakly shake your head.

"i'm fine, i'm okay." you choke out, your hand clutching your chest as you feel chan's warm hands on your arms, circling around to lift you gently. "easy, easy. i got you, baby." he murmurs, and you feel your eyes sting with tears as he lets you slump against him, your glow fading fast.

"stay with me." his fingers dig into your side as he picks you up bridal style, carefully walking you over to the couch. yugyeom pulls their backpacks off, letting him lower you gently. minnie fans you with a stack of papers. chan peers at your face, your brows pinched as you breathe in as deeply as you can, his thumb instinctively padding at the crease. huffing, you tear his hand away, lacing your fingers in his. he acts like his heart doesn’t lurch forward.

"alright, everybody, back up." mingyu's voice rings in the room, and your bleary eyes can barely make out the oxygen mask that nurse taeyeon is slipping over your face. "there, there, professor. we got you."

you're shivering as she instructs chan to lift you onto the gurney on three, and you almost cry at the loss of contact when he sets you down. "chan, chan." your voice is nearly a whisper, and the students watch as you flicker, your glow lost as it glitches between colors. 

"maybe you should go with her." yugyeom nudges him as nurse taeyeon glances at him, and she crosses her arms as chan nods slowly,slipping his bag over his shoulder. he takes nurse taeyeon's place at the end of the gurney, rolling you quietly out of the classroom. you're flickering from color to color as he walks slightly faster at nurse taeyeon's command.

"what happened?" she asks, and chan shakes his head as they take a sharp turn, your groan resounding in the hall. "i'm not sure, she just started clutching her chest and basically fell to the floor." nodding, taeyeon stays quiet the rest of the walk, her eyes only glancing at his worried expression and your hazy one. they're in love, she thinks. this is love.

taeyeon can't really help you. her powers lay in the herbalism field, she has no idea what's wrong, and she can't get a specialist here fast enough. she watches as chan carefully positions you in the empty room, letting his bag slide onto the floor before taking a seat at the foot of the bed. she simply sighs, calling that she'd be back with a rosemary tea and to just sit tight as she calls for the master sorcerers.

his hand gently strokes your ankle, making you flinch. "chan, chan i can't breathe." you tug at your collar, and he quickly reaches to unbutton your top buttons. "it's gonna be okay, angel." he's whispering as your hand grasps his wrist, the oxygen mask doing little to help as you wheeze.

"chan…" his head lifts, and your eyes are teary as you hear footsteps approaching hurriedly. he doesn't acknowledge you as the master sorcerers burst into your room, taeyeon trailing behind them with a steaming cup. "excuse me, coming through." she perches at the edge of the bed, carefully pulling you up. you whimper softly, and chan feels his heart ache at your pain. "drink this, it'll help your stress. that's probably what this is, just some anxiety."

taeyeon's tone is soft as she takes off the oxygen mask, the master sorcerers waiting until they can swoop in. neither of them acknowledge chan, despite getting to know him insanely well over the past few years. he could dare to think that they were afraid of him, of not knowing what he was. master sorcerers my ass, he thinks.

"i can't…" you're breathless, and taeyeon's gaze softens as she lets you slump down on the pillow once more. "it's alright. the master sorcerers are here, okay? they'll take care of you." she pats your shoulder, and you nod wearily as the grandest of all, dr. kang seulgi, takes a step forward.

"bang chan, why are you here?" her sharp voice echoes in the room, and your hand weakly reaches for him as he slides off the bed. "i brought her in, dr. kang."

"i see. you can evacuate the premises." she waves him away nonchalantly, and he frowns deeply as he steps back, your eyes fixed on him. almost like you're begging him to stay.

"i think i'll stay, actually." he blurts, and dr. kang's eyes snapped to him. "i'm not asking you, chan, i'm telling you." "let the boy stay, what's the harm?" dr. min's voice rings from his spot against the door frame, and chan glances up at the nimble man. "c'mon, seulgi."

"yoongi, if you undermine me again, you're sleeping on the couch." she grits, her wedding band to dr. min glinting in the low light as she rubs her temples. your hand reaches for chan once more, a soft groan from your lips catching his attention. he takes it, entwining your fingers quickly, kneeling at your side. "of course, jagi. y/n, what seems to be the problem?" dr. min pushes past, noting the undone buttons of your blouse. your chest is glowing, but the rest of you is the dimmest indigo he'd ever seen. much less, having seen you never glow indigo. your breathing is still labored, chest glowing brighter as chan once more rubs the pinch of your brows away.

"y/n, i'm going to open your shirt, okay?" dr. kang pushes past dr. min, her nimble fingers undoing the rest of the buttons. your scar is illuminated, but…it's not really there. it's faded, and chan can tell this is out of the ordinary as dr. kang's brows raise.

"yoongi." her voice is low, bringing her husband to her side. "oh, my."

their eyes meet, as though they're speaking telepathically. dr. kang's eyes flash gold as she furrows her brows, her husband grimacing as his own flash green. they glance at chan, who is gingerly moving your hair out of your face, his fingers barely ghosting over your sticky skin.

you can barely see him through your foggy eyes, but you're scanning him intently. you can see the glowing indigo of his eyes, that matches yours. you're dimming, but he's brighter than ever and it sends a shiver up your spine. his hand squeezes yours, a wave of heat attacking your chest.

dr. kang looks back, her husband staring intently at her.

"he healed her, it seems." his eyes speak, and she shakes her head. "he's not a healer, remember? we tried that already." yoongi nods, eyes fluttering back to the both of you. chan's now sitting on the edge of the bed, your arm draped over his lap as he speaks to you gently. he can't hear what chan is saying, but the glint of adoration in his eyes tells him all he needs to know.

"chan, can i see you in the hallway?" dr. min speaks, and your head turns to him. you pout, your eyes filling with tears as chan pulls away from you. dr. kang gives him a hard glare as she takes his place, her cool hand placed directly on your hot skin, making you groan.

"yes, dr. min?" chan's eyes are enticing, and dr. min shrugs. "let's try a little something, hm?" chan follows dr. min's line of vision, the door of the bathroom ajar. dr. min makes a gesture for chan to wait, before ducking into the bathroom, shutting the door. chan hears a loud crash, and dr. min appears just as fast, with a bloody fist.

"dr. min, are you alright? i can get nurse taeye-" dr. min places his free hand over chan's mouth, a knowing look in his eyes as he holds up his injured hand. "heal me, chan." "what? sir, i'm not a healer, you know that." chan furrows his brows, and dr. min shakes his head. "channel it." dr. min's eyes are boring into chan's soul as he looks away, shivering as he tries to channel any sort of magical energy for this injury. he's not surprised when nothing happens, and dr. min nods his head.

dr. min simply heals it himself, and chan looks away as the skin closes quickly, the dried blood disappearing before his eyes. vitalis mendacium, he thinks it's called. "chan, i think i may have an idea of what's going on with professor y/n." dr. min clasps his hands together in front of him, and chan tilts his head.

"you're in love with her, aren't you?" dr. kang's voice rings from the doorway of your room, and chan gapes at her. "w-what?" "don't play dumb. she told me she helped you clear some emotional blockage on tuesday, and she showed up in your blockages." dr. kang crosses her arms, and a groan is heard from you, chan flinching at the sound. "chan, this is dangerous territory." his eyes narrow as he shakes his head. "i don't think what you did to her was right. i think we all deserve a chance at love, no matter our mistakes. you're wrong, dr. kang." dr. kang scowls, "you think we did this to her? the old coven did it, we had no say!" she points between herself and her husband, and dr. min places his hand on her shoulder.

"chan, seulgi is right. in this world, there is no amount of study done that could reverse what the old coven has done to y/n. they cursed layers upon layers of punishment on her, this was never intended to be something that could be undone." dr. min speaks slowly, and chan can hear you whining in the room behind the couple. he's antsy, he feels sick to his stomach knowing you're a mere ten feet away and he can't make you feel better. 

"i don't know what to do." dr. kang admits lowly, her hand covering her eyes as she looks away from the men in front of her. "i think…" dr. min trails off as chan pushes past them, sliding next to you. he watches chan fan you with his hand, your own wrapped around his waist as you shiver.

"you trust me, right?" he looks to seulgi, who nods her head. "always." his hands spin her around, making her face the two of you. "i think this is his to heal. look how quiet she is in his presence, she's barely moving. her breathing is more steady." "yoongi, he's not a healer." seulgi groans into her hands, her eyes catching a flash of white protruding from you as chan runs his hand down your back. she watches as he helps you peel your jacket off, your baby pink shirt transparent from the sheen of your sweat soaking through.

"maybe not for us, but for her." yoongi mumbles, seeing chan swipe your hair away from your neck, his lips pursed as he blows cool air against your skin. your groan is one of relief as he rocks you, and seulgi glances at her husband, swallowing thickly. "they're so rare, yoongi. there hasn't been one in this dimension in three hundred and twenty five years."

"i think we may have another on our hands." yoongi smiles widely as you slowly prop yourself up on your elbow, chan's worried eyes scanning your face for distress. you make a noise of disgust, your glow returning green steadily as chan helps you sit up. "what happened? ugh, i'm all sweaty."

glancing at your hands, you see them glowing indigo as it spreads up your body. you turn, seeing the master sorcerers staring at you from the doorway. grimacing, you glimpse at chan, who is looking at you intently. "hey, you alright?" his hand is holding your hip, and your frown falters as you look into his eyes. they're glowing bright as he looks you over. "what happened to your eyes?" your voice is raspy, and he looks away, shrugging.

"i'm not sure. they started changing last night." he swallows, and you shudder as indigo engulfs you entirely. "they look…pretty."

he snorts, shaking his head. "you might want to button up your shirt." feeling your cheeks burn, your fingers fumble with the buttons when you feel seulgi's cool hand on your wrist. "wait."

letting her lay you back, you miss chan's warmth as he slips off the bed, lingering from a few feet away as she opens your shirt. her eyes widen as she quickly beckons her husband over. his eyes snake down your torso, and his eyes glint with green as he meets seulgi's. they're silent, their faces moving as they communicate.

"y/n?" dr. kang's voice is low as she runs her hand through your mussed curls, and you meet her line of vision. her eyes are soft, staring at your torso. "y/n, do you know the history of psychosomatic healers?"

raising a brow, you nod your head. "yeah, they're the rarest of the healing trifecta. there hasn't been one in this dimension since 1699, and even then there's only seven recorded cases because they're so difficult to pinpoint at commencement." dr. min steps forward, noticing chan's eyes glued to the floor as dr. kang examines you further.. "y/n, i'd like to try something, if you don't mind." nodding, you allow dr. kang to take your arm in her hand, pulling your sleeve off your shoulder. 

with a quick swipe of her nails, you're bleeding. you gape at her, a scoff flying from your lips when chan looks up, the sound tearing him from his thoughts. "are you serious, seulgi?" you push her away, flickering orange and dr. min beckons chan forward. "touch her, chan."

taking a deep breath, chan gets closer to you, his nose scrunching at the blood seeping into your shirt. he takes your hand in his, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin. you look away from your shoulder, zeroing in on the subtle touch of affection when a white glow catches everyone's eyes. tugging at your shirt sleeve, seulgi reveals a clean shoulder, no injury visible.

"a psychosomatic healer can only heal those they love." she states, her eyes boring into chan's as he tries to tug his hand away, but you only use it as leverage to sit up. "what the fuck are you guys on about?" "there's no way you're that dumb, y/n." seulgi snorts, her manicured fingernail pointing at your chest. "i don't know how he did it, and i don't think we'll ever know. the curse the coven set upon you has been lifted by him." you look down — the raised welt where your scar once was has dissipated. widening your eyes, you peel the shoulder of your shirt down, the formerly scarred skin now smooth. your fingers tremble as you run them over your soft flesh, feeling the sting of tears forming. you can feel the burn of a sob in your throat as chan releases your hand, stepping back as you process.

the burning of his gaze, of his skin on yours, of your chest in his presence. the ache you felt in your soul yesterday as his lips brushed your neck with every roll of his hips, the way his answers confused you. the anger you felt while walking to class, at not being able to decipher him.

the way his angel eyes held the sun, the moon, and the stars. the way worry creases his brow though relief has washed over his frame, the way you're itching to hold him close, and never, ever let go.

it all makes sense.

"we'll give you both a moment." the master sorcerers bow their heads as they back out of the room, dr. min closing the door behind him. you sit in silence, feeling sticky and gross and overwhelmed.

"you're in love with me?!" you shriek, and chan throws up his hands in defense. "i thought we already knew this, why are we screaming?!" you swat his arm, and a nervous laugh bubbles up his throat. flopping back down onto the gurney, you dramatically cover your eyes with your arm, sighing. "now i have to cherish this, and we're probably going to get married and have kids and all that shit. are you serious? are you serious." "y/n…" you stand up, pacing back and forth in front of him, your hands weaving through your hair to soothe the onsetting migraine at the information. "how are you not freaking out, chan? you just found out you're one of the rarest healers in the trifecta, and not to mention the first in over three centuries! are you shitting me right now?" "y/n?"

you're not listening as you continue to ramble, pacing a hole into the floor when he grabs your shoulder, pulling you to him. taking both your hands in his, he looks you in the eyes. "you're spiraling." 

huffing, you nibble on your lower lip. "what happens now, chan?"

his smile is warm, it's comforting, it's making your stomach flip as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "i don't know. isn't that the beauty of it all, though? not knowing where you end up?"

pouting, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing his warmth to seep into your skin. "i've never felt this, chan. i don't know what it's like to be lost, i've always had my answers." you can feel the vibrations of his chest as he laughs, his hand coming to stroke your hair gently.

"that's okay, it'll be like the blind leading the blind. for now, we can just focus on…us? maybe go on a date, have dinner…" his voice is soft as you look up to him, his eyes already scanning your face for any hint of rejection. "unless you don't want to." you do, of course you do.

"i'm all sweaty, and gross. we've had a revelation about your purpose in this world, your eyes are a different color, and you want to focus on us?" your voice is laced with incredulity, a hint of amusement peeking through as it tugs at your lips. "i have my whole life to focus on other things. when you can't find a piece of a puzzle, you pick another part to focus on, do you not? i have that answer, that piece now, but i'm already figuring this part out." squeezing your shoulder, he places a chaste kiss on your hairline, your nose scrunching.

"why did you come with me?" you poke his chest, and he smirks. "yesterday or today?"

gaping, you land a soft smack to his chest, his squeaky laughter filling your ears as your cheeks heat. "chan! not funny!" "sorry, i'm sorry! i saw an opportunity, i took it. but, i was worried about you." he starts, taking a piece of your hair between his fingers. "i saw how angry you looked before minnie spoke to you, and before you looked at me. you started looking faint when we met eyes, and i was…i was scared that something might happen to you and that i wouldn't be able to apologize for potentially overstepping boundaries, or ruining whatever little game we have going on."

"you couldn't ruin whatever this is even if you tried." you scoff, your words tumbling out before you can process them. "i've never felt anything this intense before in my entire life. my ears started ringing when i touched your chest on tuesday, here." you splay your fingers on his hoodie, in the same place.

"i couldn't hear a thing. that was me, the blockage, i was basically hearing myself. if we didn't have that moment, if you hadn't let me in, none of this would have happened." you speak softly, taking his hands in yours, his eyes glassy as he looks into yours. your smile is gentle, and he can feel his stomach flutter as you lean closer. "and i'm so glad it did. despite this whole day being so weird, despite the coven probably burning holes into the back of my head right now from hell right now, and despite the tears i can see about to spill out of your eyes, nothing could ruin this. okay?" he looks away, nibbling on his lip. your thumb strokes his cheek, catching a few stray tears as you make him face you. vision blurring, but you can see him clearer than ever.

"okay?" you insist, and he nods. "okay."

"good." pulling him towards you, you crash your lips to his, feeling your heart beating in your ears. your arms cross over his shoulders, his hands finding home on your bare waist, the kiss becoming heated. parting his lips, your tongue snakes its way in, a soft groan from chan as he pushes you back, your knees hitting the gurney. 

"not in here, guys." dr. kang's voice echoes in the room, and you spring apart like teenagers. wiping at your lips, you watch as chan grabs your discarded jacket, and his bag. outstretching his hand to you, you take it, letting him rush the both of you towards the door. quickly bowing to the master sorcerers, you giggle as the cool december air hits your chest.

"yeah, y/n! nice titties, girl!" you hear a holler from down the hall, your eyes catching a glimpse of minnie's teal hair. you smile widely, waving as chan continues, a blush coating his cheeks as you begin to float behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"where are we going?" you mumble in his ear, and he shivers. "to yours. i need to show you how much you mean to me." you let the butterflies bounce around in your stomach, knowing exactly what was coming your way.

friday – january 08.

your relationship with chan had become the talk of the wizard world. several words were thrown your way, many to your detriment – but you chose to focus on 'love epiphany' and 'anomalies made to traverse together.'

he naturally passed your class with flying colors, what more could you do when he literally discovered himself? the students deemed it completely fair, with only yugyeom choosing to retake your course because he felt like he didn't really do what was necessary. mornings were filled with the buzzing of your phone – the students had made a group chat and continuously badgered you with memes, and mingyu with his graduation photos.

whereas, chan's mornings were filled with you, his phone long put on silent. your soft hair tickling his neck, only for your gentle lips to place chaste kisses along his jaw as he awoke. your warm leg draped over his waist, your knee teasing his crotch so early was something he'd never get used to. your arm, propping you up once he lazily peels an eye open, closing it the moment he sees your beaming smile, a blush coating his cheeks.

"do you always stare at me when i sleep?" he mumbles, his fingers dipping under the hem of your sleep shorts. "do birds fly?" "you're a creep, you know that?" laughing, he lets you hold his eyes open with your fingers, the indigo glow of them making you glow brighter in turn. that was what it meant, after all – the subzero color now warm, as you illuminated the room with your love for chan. "yeah? well you're creeping your fingers into my panties, so maybe shut up."

your lips are addicting, he could never get enough of them as you brush them against him. both sets, of course.

kidding. sort of. not at all. he loves you, okay? that's all that matters.

"you should check your email, channie." you murmur against his neck, and he nods his head, watching as you try not to smile. "oh i should, should i?" ignoring the raise of his eyebrow, you reach for chan's phone, plopping it on his bare chest. chan lolls his head back, hands relocating to your hips as he pulls you on top of him. your cheeks heat at the soft love bites on his pec, but shake it away as his voice snakes into your head

"you seem a little too excited, baby." he ruffles your hair as he unlocks his phone, and you just bite your lip as he scans the screen. "tell me, sorcerer, what's the news?" your voice bounces off the walls, with chan just squeezing your hip in response.

from: spellboundnews@spellbound.edu

dearest bang chan,

it is our honor here at the spellbound institute of magic to let you know that you have been chosen to be published in this year's edition of the spellbound sorcerer. such an honor is only awarded to those with extraordinary skill. 

we've also made the unanimous decision for you to speak at this year's annual convention, taking over the healing trifecta's booth. more information will be provided as the date approaches.

we look forward to seeing you and professor y/l/n there.

signed,

dr. kang seulgi

dr. min yoongi

master sorcerers

spellbound institute of magic

his eyes flicker to yours, your grin so wide, it's infectious. "i'm getting published." "you're getting published!" you cheer loudly, and chan feels his cheeks heat as you pepper his face in kisses. "you're getting published, baby! we have to celebrate! let's ask your parents to dinner, yeah? we can get a cabin for the weekend, so they don't have to drive home so late."

he forgets how you pried the truth about his parents out of him, but he's almost sure it was last tuesday when you made him beg for you to sit on his face. almost sure, but he doesn't really care anymore. after all, he'd warmed up to you.

"i'm so proud of you, channie." your voice is gentle as you swipe your thumbs under his eyes, and he nods, burying his face in your chest as embarrassment spreads in his. "hey, you can't hide from me. what happened to the praise kink? don't you want to know how good you're doing?" "i told you that in confidence!" he swats at your leg as he nestles into your laughter. "i know! it's just me and you here, what's the problem?! let me praise you!"

"never. come on, let's read my stupid essay." he throws the comforter off his legs, and you huff as you climb off his lap. sitting up on the edge of the bed, you lean against his back, your arms hooked around his broad shoulders. the same ones full of your nail marks, a few imprints of your teeth scattered around them. "i graded it, i already read it." "well, praise me while i read it." he snorts, and you press a soft kiss to his shoulder. "mm, okay. i'll take what i can get."

bang chan

professor y/l/n

identity theory

if you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it. – tony stark, spider-man: homecoming (2017)

the fall was slow, like liebesträume.

feeling lost is an understatement.

i've been lost before – in grocery stores, misunderstanding assignments. i've even been lost in the woods before, riddled with anxiety standing within the trees. so uniform, full of belonging. those trees know where their purpose lies.

me? i've been wandering this world not knowing where my purpose lies, what i'm meant to be doing with said unrealized purpose. this is a feeling of disorientation, isolation, off course. it's all the same anyway, isn't it?

i spent years looking for answers – from the day i was dropped off at the academy to the day i met professor y/l/n. life was well sullied with fear, a feeling of desperation as i felt my time running low. i willingly put myself in danger, hopping from dimension to dimension with the aid of some friends to find something to ease my worries, and came up empty. answers will find you, not you them.

another thing i failed to consider was that i perhaps had my answer all along. from the natural instinct to protect and take care of the people i hold close, to the agony of being away from my family – all i needed was a catalyst. something to throw me even more off course, even more confusing than what life had come to be before her.

professor y/l/n has brought me to life. truly, i could never say enough to express the appreciation i have for her, but i will attempt it any chance i get. an enigma, an anomaly, a paradigm – she is far, far more than these words could begin to define. she's selfless, she's full of light and i could never understand that. my admiration for her goes well beyond this lifetime, and like the praying mantis, she was a beacon of guidance.

her story is full of twists and turns as she allowed me to indulge. from the flickering of the glow around her, to understanding that only the deepest of her indigo hue glows for me, i'm honored to say the least. i will never get enough of her story, of her truths, of her. the idea that love lies in the hands of the beholder is entirely true in this case. to be loved is to be known, and she read me far beyond my wildest dreams the moment her golden cast laid upon me. 

eckhart tolle says that, to love is to recognize yourself in another. i have never experienced something as deep as this, nor have i ever seen myself in y/n – and i'm glad i don't. my insecurities, my flaws, what i dislike about myself, are my own. however, i know she sees something i don't, and i trust that. i trust her, with my entire being. without her, i'd have no clue of my purpose. to younger me, who is still wondering the answer to that, i propose this.

your purpose is to love. love beyond your ways, love selflessly. love selfishly, like it's all you can do. like it's all you're capable of, because the moment you lay eyes on y/n? you will see, it is. loving her is all you can do. life without love is meaningless, life without her is hopeless.

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[patches-am]

For tumblr can i request one where vada cavell makes r sneak out in the middle of the night due to her being scared after the shooting?

yesterday still leaking through the roof

pairings: vada cavell x reader

word count: 1.13k

warnings: mentions of school shooting a very small amount of strong language

In the aftermath of the school tragedy, the days at school have taken on a somber tone, with the haunting memory of what occurred still lingering. An empty seat in your classroom serves as a stark reminder of a student who lost their life that day. It's a heavy burden to bear.

Vada, in particular, is finding it hard to cope. She hasn't been back to school since it happened. Late at night, she often sends you messages, sometimes even showing up at your doorstep. To her, you're like a comforting presence, someone she can lean on when the weight of her emotions becomes too much to bear.

Another school day concludes, and Vada's absence is still palpable. You return home, feeling the exhaustion tugging at your eyelids. You drop your backpack to the floor and collapse onto your bed. Homework beckons, but the call of sleep is even stronger.

You're jolted awake by a barrage of notifications on your phone. The room is cloaked in darkness, with only the faint glow of streetlights filtering in. You squint at your phone, checking the time.

2:17 AM. Shit.

Your nap stretched far longer than planned. The brightness of your phone screen momentarily blinds you, leaving an imprint of your lockscreen in your vision.

As you scroll through the notifications, you see:

blah-blah liked your story…

And a notification about someone commenting on someone else's post- because you definitely needed to know that.

Then, there are the texts from Vada:

vada 🖤 - please come over now

-

vada 🖤 - y/nn i need you

-

vada 🖤 - a car backfired outside and it scared the absolute hell out of me sounded like a gunshot dude

There it is, Vada reaching out at an ungodly hour. But this time, there's an urgency in her messages that's different.

You rub the sleep from your eyes and sigh. The thought of leaving your warm bed to sneak out into the night isn't appealing, but you can't ignore her. She's not just seeking attention—something has truly shaken her. The shooting left everyone raw, but for Vada, it feels like she's barely holding on.

You rise slowly, pulling a hoodie over your rumpled shirt. The cold air hits your face as you crack open the window, your usual escape route without waking anyone. You've done this enough times that it feels routine.

The neighborhood is silent except for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves.

You text Vada as you make your way down the street, heading towards her house.

y/n - omw now. 10 min tops

You hope she sees it, but knowing her, she's probably glued to her phone, waiting. You quicken your pace, your breath visible in the chilly night air.

When you reach her house, you spot her silhouette by the window, the light from inside casting a faint outline. She must've been waiting there the whole time. The thought of how fragile she's become tugs at your heart.

You approach her porch quietly and send her a final text to announce your arrival.

y/n - outside. open up

Her response is immediate.

vada 🖤 - ok, door’s unlocked

You turn the handle and step inside, greeted by the familiar scent of her perfume. The house is dimly lit, with only a soft glow from a lamp in the living room casting long shadows.

Vada sits on the couch, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. The moment she sees you, relief washes over her face, but there's a storm in her eyes, a weight she's carrying.

“You okay?” you ask gently, already knowing the answer.

She shakes her head, eyes downcast. “No… Not really.”

You sit beside her, close enough that your knees almost touch. Vada shifts, resting her head on your shoulder, exhaling shakily. She's always needed closeness, especially after the shooting. You're not sure if it's for reassurance or just to feel alive.

“What happened?” you ask softly, concern etched in your voice.

Vada hesitates, fingers fidgeting with her hoodie. You can see the tension in her shoulders. Finally, she speaks, voice trembling. “A car backfired outside. It just—” she pauses, “sounded exactly like… like when it happened.”

Your heart aches, and you wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer. “It’s okay, Vada. I’m here now.”

She nods, face pressed into your hoodie. For a moment, you sit in silence, the weight of her fear palpable. Her grip on your hand is tight, a reminder of how fragile everything has been since that day.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask, not wanting to push but knowing she might need to share the burden.

Vada is quiet for a long time, breathing shallow. Then, she whispers, “I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back there. I keep seeing them—seeing the ones who didn’t make it. I see the blood. I hear the gunshots. And I… I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m suffocating.”

Her words hit you hard. You knew she was struggling, but hearing it aloud, understanding the depth of her trauma, feels like a punch to the gut.

“I wish I could make it stop for you,” you say softly, rubbing her back. “I wish I could take all of this away.”

Vada lifts her face to look at you, eyes red-rimmed with sadness. “You being here helps,” she says. “It’s the only thing that helps.”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of her reliance on you. You want to be strong for her, to be her anchor, but there's a part of you that's scared too—scared that you might not be enough.

But you don't let that show. Instead, you pull her closer, resting your chin on her head. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper. “You can text me whenever, call me whenever, and I’ll be here. Always.”

Vada sighs, her body relaxing slightly against you, though the tension never fully leaves. “I’m sorry I keep dragging you into this,” she murmurs. “I don’t mean to… I just don’t know how to deal with it.”

“You’re not dragging me into anything, Vada. I’m here because I care. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

She doesn't respond, but her grip on your hand tightens. You sit together in the quiet, the weight of the night pressing down. There's no easy fix, no words to make it better. But for now, being here with her—being her support—feels like enough.

Eventually, Vada's breathing slows, her body leaning more heavily against you as she drifts toward sleep. You adjust your position, ensuring she's comfortable, and settle in for the night, knowing you'll stay until morning.

Because right now, she needs you. And that's all that matters.