#but he chooses to be kind despite his jealousy

[kaidasdesires]

"Your Eyes Only." : Sunoo

☾ grouping: Sunoo x afab reader

☾ rating: 18+, explicit content

☾ wc: 14k

☾ content warnings: sadistic dom sunoo!, explicit sex (unprotected), semi-public sex, oral sex (receiving), clothed sex, overstimulation, praise, choking, jealousy, voyeurism (kinda), exhibitionism, slight cum play, slight degradation, jake is suddenly down bad, jungwon isn’t communicating well

☾ summary: Y/n finally gets to see the behind-the-scenes of concert day, and Sunoo shows her around the venue. However, someone keeps messing with her, but she can't even see them.

or, Sunoo is a spirit that can manifest himself wherever he wants, and can choose to be seen or unseen. He gets a thrill out of messing with y/n in front of his bandmates.

☾ author note: This story is fiction and does not reflect the personalities or desires of those it is written about. This story has some scenes that may be uncomfortable for some readers, read at your own discretion. This is chapter three in this series, please see my masterlist for other chapters!

☾ taglist: @who-tf-soddhi, @imnotyizhuo, @deobitfull, @ochaluver, @jakeswifez, @helenngxz, @enhalusional, @d-dilemma , @heerinnie, @qeeun-didi, @capri-cuntz, @strxwbloody, @jungwonloverr, @b3tt7boop, @zkg2318, @simbabyj, @gnvi-eve, @babygirlskz98, @nshmrarki, @50-husbands, @peonywon, @moonpri, @binneulton , @leeheeso, @roslayy, @tunafishyfishylike, @fancypeacepersona, @jiryunn , @sidecharacters, @somuchdard, @skzenhalove , @missychief1404, @aespaqq, @strawbrrycuteblog, @ritahyelee, @reading-wh0re, @hjjssjnen7, @immelissaaa, @ilovhoonie, @simj4k3, @seyoungiesleeps

Several weeks have gone by since your night with Sunghoon. Thankfully, your neck had fully healed, and there was only a small scar left behind where the older boy had bitten you. Between Heeseung and Sunghoon, you found yourself caught up in intimate situations a few more times than you’d like to admit. Not that you minded the attention from them, you enjoyed it.

Heeseung had pulled you into the shower with him one morning when you had come over to make breakfast before the rest of the boys were awake. You admired his shimmering blue scales in the water, the color shifting slightly as the water trickled over them. He helped you wash your hair, strong hands easing the tension from your scalp. Heeseung was gentle and kind, his personality created a sense of comfort and trust that drew you to him. At the same time, he held a sense of confidence and maturity that allowed him to step into control whenever the situation called for it. It was never a forceful dominance, but reassuring guidance that offered space away from the stress of day to day life. Maybe it was due to his slightly older age compared to his bandmates that gave him this ability, but it was what led you to find comfort in being around him. 

Sunghoon’s hand would snake its way up your thigh whenever he sat next to you at the dinner table. His fingers grazed under the hem of your shorts with feigned innocence. You’d press your lips together and reprimand him with a glare as you gently pushed his naughty hand away. His lips would always curve into a mischievous smirk, a silent acknowledgment of your scolding, but you never missed the promise of future attempts that flickered in his dark eyes. He hadn't tried to bite you again; that night still played in your head with vivid clarity. Part of you missed the sharp sting and raw possessiveness Sunghoon had shown you with this act. Maybe he was nervous, afraid of going too far and hurting you. 

The boys were busy now, having had a comeback within the past week. You were at the dorm more often now, washing discarded clothes, organizing scattered belongings and spending time cooking for them. Your bed at home, with its promise of undisturbed sleep and peaceful solitude, remained a cherished sanctuary. However, despite the comfort that your apartment offered, it was within the loud, often messy, atmosphere of the dorm that you truly felt at home. 

You hadn’t dwelled on the specifics of Jungwon’s intense anger towards Sunghoon that night, you just accepted the explanation that it stemmed from worry and a natural protectiveness over you. The edge in his voice and the tightness of his posture were easily rationalized as concern reaching it’s limit. You also didn’t understand why Jungwon didn’t offer to help you clean up that night, but you figured that Ni-ki just wanted to help, having walked in on the tense situation. After that, life had resumed its familiar rhythm in the days that followed, with both Jungwon and Ni-ki acting as if the heated moment had never occurred. However, you couldn’t help but notice an increase in stolen glances, moments of eye contact that were quickly broken. Although curious, you found this new attention intriguing and amusing. 

Somehow, Jungwon has convinced their manager to let you ride with them to their upcoming concert. They typically have at least one showcase and one fan concert every comeback, and this time, you might get to watch from the front. Usually, you end up buying nosebleed seats to support and watch your best friend, because getting good seats seemed nearly impossible, and your luck was awful against dedicated fans. Tickets sold out in mere minutes, and your internet connection just couldn’t stand a chance. 

So that’s how you found yourself handing out protein bars and water bottles to the boys as they filed out of the dorm, faces still ridden with sleep. They mingled together outside to wait for the vans to arrive to take them to the venue for their performance today. 

Ni-ki and Heeseung wore their hoods up, and black masks obscured their faces. They looked like they would rather die than be awake right now. Dark circles cast shadows under their heavily hooded eyes. You figured they must have been tired from staying up too late playing video games, a good balance between fun and work responsibilities was hard to find. You felt bad for them with the long day ahead. 

Sunoo and Sunghoon looked surprisingly awake. They were chatting amongst themselves. Despite the rude awakening that early morning travel brought, they were surprisingly well put together. They were dressed comfortably but well enough for photos, always mindful of the ever present possibility of running into fans. Their hair was neatly styled, and any signs that they had been up late like the two before them had been masked by carefully placed concealer. 

Trailing behind them, Jungwon moved with a focused energy, his gaze sweeping over their surroundings. He was meticulous, ensuring every member had the necessary items before their departure to the venue. Admiration washed over you as you observed his selfless dedication. His leadership was characterized by profound care for his bandmates, constantly working to make their lives easier, often at the cost of his own well-being. You knew his days were long and his nights short, filled with the unseen tasks of managing their demanding lives. He consistently prioritized his bandmates' needs, a habit that left little room for his own self-care.

Standing patiently by the open doorway, Jay’s eyes were fixed on their leader. He watched Jungwon’s quiet diligence, a silent acknowledgment of the younger member’s tireless efforts. There was a sense of understanding and unspoken camaraderie between them as Jungwon completed his final checks, the weight of responsibility evident in his focused movements.

“Are you excited?” Jake asked, breaking the silence, with a cheerful smile on his face. 

“Of course I’m excited!” You replied, "I never get to watch you guys perform up close. It's always from way back in the audience." The idea of watching them perform from just a few feet away was a unique and cherished opportunity.

Jake was visibly tired. His hyperactive spark was just a flicker, but you know it wouldn't be long before he was back to his normal self. 

A playful glint entered his eyes. "Make sure you watch me," he insisted, wiggling his eyebrows with exaggerated confidence. "I'm quite the lady killer on stage, if I do say so myself." His teasing was a familiar comfort, his own way of masking any nerves he held. 

Jay, leaning against the doorframe still waiting for their leader, chuckled softly. He secured the lock after Jungwon slipped out from the door. "You sure are something alright," Jay agreed, his tone laced with affectionate mockery.

Jake shot Jay a sharp, indignant look and opened his mouth to launch a counter-attack on his bandmate. However, before he could get more than a word out, their leader’s voice cut through the air.

"Shut up," Jungwon sighed with a hint of exasperation. He stood just outside the doorway. "We haven’t even made it into the van yet, and you two are already at it." The weariness in his voice hinted at the constant balancing act of managing his bandmates' energy and chaos.

Amusement washed over you at Jungwon’s annoyance. You chuckled, feeling sympathy for the young leader tasked with keeping the group grounded and making sure everyone behaved.

Beep. Beep. 

The vans had arrived. One van already had the manager and some staff in it. Jungwon and Jay headed to that van, leaving you to get in with the rest of the boys. 

You let them all pile into the van before you, patiently waiting as they climbed in one by one. Once you get into the van and look around you realize Sunoo is patting the seat between him and Sunghoon, his bright smile beckoning you to the back. Ni-ki and Heeseung are sitting in the middle row, both already leaning on the cool glass of the window beside them, headphones on and eyes closed in anticipation for a restful nap during the drive. Jake had taken the seat up front next to the driver and was already chatting with him. You could tell they knew each other well as Jake started to yap about their new album promotions, and the older man nodded along with an amused smile. It wouldn’t be long now before Jake’s excitable energy kicked in. 

Making your way to the back, you returned Sunoo’s smile and sat down between him and Sunghoon. The comforting scent of their colognes mingled in the close space. As you settled in, Sunghoon reached over, his fingers brushing against yours as he pulled the seatbelt across your lap and helped you buckle it. 

“Hi, princess,” Sunghoon’s voice rumbled softly in your ear as he leaned back across you and settled back into his seat. A playful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he met your gaze for a moment.

You eye him, giving him a dirty look that was meant to show your disapproval of the nickname, but you already know it won’t do anything.  Sunghoon simply chuckled before settling back into his seat. His eyes were already closed, his long lashes resting against his cheeks. His arms folded across his chest and his head leaning against the headrest, he was ready to join the others in front of him in their effort to nap. 

You shake your head and turn to look over to Sunoo, who is already smiling back at you. 

“I’m glad you could come to see us perform today, y/n.” He said, brushing his blonde hair out from his eyes. 

“I’m glad too! I know you guys are going to do a great job. I’m excited to see the behind-the-scenes stuff too!” You replied. 

“It’s going to be a long day, though, please make sure to take care of yourself if you need to rest or eat.” Sunoo chides you. He knew you often didn’t take the time to take care of yourself and wanted to make sure you didn’t overdo it and miss seeing them perform. 

“Okay, okay!” You replied, holding your hands up in defeat. “I promise I’ll take care of myself. Thank you for worrying about me, Sunoo.” 

Sunoo just nodded in contentment before opening his phone and scrolling through his notifications. 

The van started up and began to follow behind the one in front of it. You knew the drive would be a little longer than usual since it was rush hour, so you took out your phone and played a game. You kept the volume down to try not to disturb the sleeping boys around you. 

After a little while, you felt your eyelids getting heavy. The bumpiness of the road and the quiet but constant rambling from Jake in the front caused you to doze off. Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy, each blink lasting longer than the last. You felt it as your head dipped forward, a sudden and embarrassing lurch that snapped you awake. A wave of heat rushed to your face as you straightened up, your eyes darting around the car, hoping that your dozing off had gone unnoticed. To your relief, Sunoo remained absorbed in his phone, his attention seemingly glued to the screen, while Sunghoon was completely still, his head leaning against the window in peaceful slumber.  

You sighed, frustrated by the fact that you were already sleepy. The day had just started yet your body demanded rest. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit annoyed by your body's lack of energy. 

Sunoo looked over with a raised eyebrow when he heard you sigh. He looked you over once as if trying to figure out why you sighed on his own before he reached up and gently guided your head to rest against his shoulder. 

“You can rest y/n.” He murmured softly and without waiting for your response he continued to scroll on his phone. 

“Thanks.” you whispered, the word barely audible. You allowed your eyelids to drift closed once more, the soft fabric of Sunoo's shirt a comforting contrast against your cheek.

There was a long period of silence as your mind drifted into rest mode, besides Jake's quiet rambling of course. You started to daydream about various things, letting unconsciousness take hold. 

I can’t wait to play with you, babydoll.

An unbodied voice spoke into your head. The words it had spoken dripped with a possessive sweetness that twisted into something sharp and threatening. You mentally shook your head, the weird thought must've been a product of dozing off.

Then, another whisper, laced with cruel anticipation. 

I can’t wait to make you fall apart in front of them.

The implication sent a shiver through you. Fall apart? In front of who? The other members? The thought of such vulnerability, exposed and raw before their gazes, was mortifying. Though you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious. Many scenarios have come into your mind here and there after finding out that they liked you. Scenarios that would stay locked in the safe place of your consciousness. 

Your eyes fluttered open. The car was still moving, and you weren’t sure how long you had been asleep for. You looked around but didn’t move. Everyone was still asleep. You instinctively held your breath, acutely aware of the weight of Sunoo’s head on yours and the soft strands of his hair brushing your cheek. You didn’t dare to move, not wanting to disrupt the fragile peace he seemed to have found. 

You mentally shook off the disturbing thoughts, trying to ground yourself in the reality of the moment. It had just been a strange dream. You focused on the gentle pressure of Sunoo’s head against yours.  A small smile touched your lips. Sunoo, of all of them, truly felt like a friend. He was your go-to for venting about the rollercoaster of dating, always armed with a sympathetic ear and a well-timed dose of gossip to distract you. He’d patiently listened to tales of disastrous dates, offering a comforting pat on the back when things went awry.

Unlike some of the other members, you didn’t often catch Sunoo stealing glances your way, and his interactions were usually absent of flirtatious undertones. Yet, despite this comforting platonic dynamic, Jungwon’s casual words from days ago lingered in the back of your mind.

Your eyes closed once more, trying to enjoy the rest before the start of a long day. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the gentle rise and fall of Sunoo’s chest beside you was soothing. 

Can you stay quiet? 

The intrusive voice shattered your peace once more, this time closer, more insistent. It felt like a physical presence inside your head, a cold finger pressing against your thoughts. Your heart lurched, and a knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach. This wasn’t a dream. This was real.

Or am I going to have to make you stay quiet?

Your eyes snapped open, your gaze darting around the van. You strained to listen, to discern any sound or movement that might betray the source of the voice. But the van remained a picture of undisturbed slumber. Even Jake, who usually struggled to find comfort on long drives, seemed to be deeply asleep in the front passenger seat, his head leaning against the window. 

You shifted slightly in your seat, the voice unsettling you, but you only moved a tiny bit, still being careful not to wake up Sunoo, his breath shuffling your hair gently. 

A sudden gasp escaped your lips as a distinct pressure tightened around your thigh, an unmistakable sensation of a hand gripping it firmly. Your mind raced, trying to rationalize the feeling, but the air around you felt empty, void of any physical presence.

The voice, cold and commanding, echoed in your mind. Be quiet.

Your teeth clamped down on your lower lip and a deep breath shuddered through your lungs, doing little to calm the frantic beating of your heart. Doubt gnawed at you. Were you hallucinating? The impossibility of the situation was maddening. Who could be doing this? And how were they able to touch you without being seen?

The grip on your thigh intensified, followed by the sensation of soft lips pressing against the bare skin of your neck. A slow, deliberate kiss lingered there, sending a shiver of unease down your spine.

Barely daring to breathe, you whispered into the stillness, your voice hardly audible over the sounds of the van. "Who?" The question was directed into the empty space, a desperate plea for an explanation. 

Hmm. It’s a secret doll. You’ll find out soon enough. The voice responded, although obviously not audible to anyone except you.

Instinctively, you leaned closer to Sunoo, seeking the comfort of his physical presence, a shield against the unseen tormentor. The gentle kissing transformed into insistent biting and licking, each caress sending jolts of heat surging through your veins. Your body betrayed your fear, responding with a confusing flicker of arousal. You were paralyzed, unable to voice a protest or even shift away, yet your body trembled subtly under the ministrations as unseen lips and teeth explored the sensitive curve of your neck, again and again.

A wave of heat pooled low in your abdomen, the stirrings of desire becoming undeniable. A flush crept up your cheeks, a potent mix of shame and arousal. A sudden wave of regret washed over you for your choice of attire. The short skirt now felt like a vulnerability, an open invitation to the unseen hands that tormented and thrilled you both the same. You squeezed your legs together tightly, an attempt to regain control, to conceal the physical evidence of your body’s response to whoever was messing with you.

Just as the sensations threatened to overwhelm you completely, Sunoo shifted above you, groaning softly before pushing himself up into a sitting position. The sudden movement broke the invisible spell. You instinctively sat up as well, your heart pounding in your chest, and as you did, the phantom touches, the ghostly kisses, the suffocating pressure – all of it vanished as abruptly as it had begun, leaving behind only the lingering heat on your neck.

“You okay?” he said softly, his head tilted slightly as he turned to observe you closely. “You were shivering?” His brow was subtly creased, a hint of worry in his eyes.

“Oh…” you began, attempting a casual tone, “I think I’m just a bit cold.” The lie felt thin even to your own ears. You crossed your arms defensively over your chest, rubbing your hands up and down your arms in a theatrical display of trying to generate warmth, hoping the gesture would sell your lie.

Unexpectedly, Sunoo’s hand rose and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin as he tilted your face ever so slightly, directing your gaze towards his. The unexpected physical contact sent a jolt of surprise through you, a warmth unrelated to the way you were rubbing your arms. 

“You’re flushed,” he stated matter-of-factly, his eyes now focused intently on your face, his touch lingering.

“I—,” you stammered, your mind blank, completely unprepared for his directness and the intimacy of the moment. 

Sunoo’s gaze remained locked on yours, a silent question in his eyes as he patiently waited for some kind of explanation. But your mind was a whirlwind, unable to formulate a coherent response. All you could do was stare back, caught in the magnetic pull of his stare. In that moment, despite your inner turmoil, you couldn’t help but admire the genuine concern etched on his breathtaking features. His eyes were so kind, so earnest as they watched you, and the proximity, the feel of his hand on your cheek, only intensified the heat rising in your face.

His brows furrowed a fraction deeper, a subtle indication of his confusion at your continued silence and lack of a reasonable explanation.

“Tell me if you’re not feeling well,” he said once more, his voice retaining its gentle tone.

“I’m okay, I promise,” you insisted, forcing a shaky smile. “I really think I’m just cold.” Another flimsy layer of deception.

Just as the uncomfortable silence threatened to stretch further, a welcome interruption arrived. The van came to a smooth stop as the driver’s voice announced, “Alright everyone, we’ve arrived.”

A wave of relief washed over you. You offered a silent, fervent thank you to whatever higher power might be listening for this timely intervention. Finally, an escape. You could get out of the close confines of the van, and away from whatever the fuck had just happened. 

The boys grumbled as they woke to the sound of the van doors opening and managers calling out for them. 

“Wake up, sleepy heads, we've got a show to do.” You heard Jungwon call from outside. It wasn’t surprising how quickly he had gotten out of the van, he was typically the first one out at all of their events. You figured he must not have napped like the others. 

Sunghoon, who was awake now, reached over once more like before and unclipped your seatbelt. The ever-present flirtatious glint still flickering in his eyes. 

“Ladies first,” he announced loud enough for the other members to hear him, motioning for you to exit the van before them. 

You offered him a grateful nod, pushing yourself into a crouch to navigate the low roof of the van. You were acutely aware of the limited space and the awkward angle, knowing how much of your legs would be visible from behind as you bent low to avoid hitting your head.

As you carefully maneuvered past Ni-ki and Heeseung, who were just beginning to stir, a sudden tug at your skirt stopped you short. The unexpected motion lifted the fabric, exposing the lacy red material of your panties to the drowsy eyes behind you. A small, involuntary squeak escaped your lips, your cheeks instantly flaming with mortification. You staggered forward, stumbling in your haste to pull your skirt back down, nearly pitching face-first out of the van.

"Woah." A surprised voice echoed from just outside the doorway, and a pair of strong, muscular arms wrapped around your waist, catching you before you could fall. It was Jay, his grip firm and steady. 

"You good?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he held you upright, his eyes quickly scanning you to make sure you hadn't been hurt.

As the remaining members slowly filtered out of the van, the heat in your face intensified. You offered a shaky nod, but your embarrassment was consuming. You briefly rested your forehead against his chest, hoping this could somehow rewind the last few seconds, but the reality of the situation burned in your mind.

Jay remained silent, his arms still loosely around you, waiting patiently for you to lift your head. He didn't pry or question, a small act of consideration that you appreciated more than words could say.

Wearing lacy panties to our concert? You must be desperate for our attention, hmm?

The voice taunted in your head. It was true; beneath your skirt, you had chosen to wear your favorite silky, red lace underwear. It wasn't a deliberate ploy for attention, not exactly. It was more about a personal indulgence, a small secret that made you feel a touch more feminine and put-together around the boys.

You lifted your head and turned around to look at the boys who had come out of the van, determined to figure out who was doing this. Who was messing with your head and causing such a scene in front of everyone else.

Heeseung was the first to meet your gaze. A subtle smirk played on his lips, a knowing glint in his eyes. Then came Sunghoon, his expression more reserved, one eyebrow arching in silent curiosity. You mentally ran through the possibilities. Could it have been Heeseung? He possessed a certain playful confidence, but something about his demeanor felt a touch too… obvious. He wasn’t typically the type to share with others. What about Sunghoon? He was often full of surprises, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that if he had this kind of power he would have already shown you. 

Your gaze drifted towards Ni-ki, who seemed to be actively avoiding your eyes. A noticeable flush crept up his neck and painted his cheeks a deep crimson. Could it have been him?

Finally, Sunoo was the last to step out of the van. His reaction was immediate and earnest. He rushed towards you, his brow furrowed with concern. “Are you okay? Did you fall?” he asked, his voice laced with worry as you pulled away from Jay’s comforting hold.

“I think so,” you replied, forcing a reassuring smile to your lips. “But it’s okay, I’m fine.”

“As long as you’re okay,” Sunoo said, a visible breath of relief escaping his lips. Jay, still close by, nodded in agreement, his eyes still holding a hint of lingering concern.

“If you’re not feeling well or something, just tell us,” Jay added, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We can get our manager to take you home if you need.”

“Oh! No! I wouldn’t miss this for the world!” you exclaimed, waving your hands in front of you to emphasize your point. “I’m really okay, I just tripped!” 

Jay maintained eye contact for a second longer, his expression suggesting he wasn't entirely convinced by your explanation. However, he eventually offered a small nod and shifted his gaze over to Sunoo, who was still standing close by.

“Head on in with Sunoo, the rest of us need to grab our bags. Sunoo, I’ll grab yours too if you don’t mind showing y/n where to go.” Jay’s voice was relaxed as he gently steered you towards the younger boy with a light push on your back.

You were immensely grateful for the discreet location of the venue’s bus parking area. It was completely closed off from public view, meaning there was no need to worry about the prying eyes of fans catching you in this slightly awkward moment and potentially starting unwanted rumors.

Sunoo reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and comforting. He offered a bright smile and playfully led you forward towards a nearby door.

“I’m quite happy today, y/n,” Sunoo spoke up as he guided you inside, a slight skip noticeable in his step.

“Oh? I’m so glad you’re happy!” you replied, returning his smile even though his back was to you. 

He turned his head slightly, his smile widening. “I’m just happy you’re here.” He then turned fully to face you as he continued walking backward. “I really hope you have a great time today!”

You continued to follow Sunoo as he pointed out the locations of important doors and facilities. He made sure to show you where the restrooms were and even indicated a discreet corner where you could grab a snack if you needed. He then gestured in the general direction of the backstage area, before finally leading you to the green room, the designated space where the boys would be preparing for their upcoming performance.

You weren’t all that shocked to see their stylists and makeup artists already here, but they stood up and greeted you and Sunoo as you came into the room. 

The other boys weren’t too far behind you, as you could hear their chattering amongst themselves from behind you. 

“You can hang out on the couch for now!” Sunoo spoke up, pointing towards the now-empty couch where the stylists had been sitting, sipping on their coffees and chatting amongst themselves while waiting for the boys to arrive. 

Once all the boys had made it into the room, they took their seats, and the managers went over the schedule for the day. Rehearsals, makeup, pre-show live, then the concert, it didn’t seem like too much, but you knew it was more than meets the eye. You knew that these days were the ones that wore the boys out the most. 

The stage lights were bright against the boys as they rehearsed for the show tonight. You watched them all with a sense of pride from your seat in the otherwise empty arena as they ran through some of their more difficult songs.  Despite your attempts to remain inconspicuous, your gaze seemed to draw their attention, and you couldn't deny the flutter in your chest every time one of them flicked their eyes towards the front of the stage. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the view. 

Most of the members were in tank tops and sweatpants. Their arms flexing, muscles exposed and loose pants leaving little to the imagination as they danced. 

Like what you see, doll? Are you getting turned on just watching us dance?

The voice cut through the momentary lull as the members paused, waiting for the technical crew to fine-tune the lighting. 

The unexpected intimacy of the question sent a jolt through you. Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping your lips before you could suppress it. Your eyes darted across the stage, scrutinizing each face. Yet, every one of the boys remained absorbed in their own conversations or stretches, not a single glance directed your way. 

"Which one of you is teasing me like this?" you murmured, the words barely audible. You hoped that the nearby stagehands, engrossed in their adjustments, hadn't overheard you.

There was only a laugh in response before the opening chords of their next song filled the arena, signaling the resumption of their rehearsal.

You let out a frustrated huff, the playful teasing, coupled with the inability to pinpoint the culprit, was proving to be more irritating than amusing. You leaned back in your seat, your eyes narrowed slightly as you watched them dance, now determined to uncover the source of the mysterious voice.

After the rehearsal ended, the boys broke off for lunch. Unfortunately, their manager was strict about letting you go with them during this time, as they were worried about fans or just the boys getting too distracted, so you decided to eat some food you had packed in your bag and hang out in the green room. 

There were still a few staff members lingering around in the green room so it was a bit awkward since you were a bit shy and didn’t know how to start a conversation with them. So after you ate, you threw away your trash and headed out into the hallway to use the bathroom. 

Where are you going, pretty? 

Annoyance flickered through you. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" you retorted aloud, the words carrying a touch more sharpness than intended. You glanced around, but the hallway was empty.

Hmm. Got an attitude, do we?

"Well, maybe if you stopped messing with me," you huffed, rounding the corner, your pace quickening. The unseen presence was becoming irritating.

Are you that desperate already? the voice taunted, implication hanging heavy in the air.

"As if," you mumbled under your breath, a flush creeping up your neck. You tried to block out the intrusive voice, willing it to silence. It wasn't the teasing itself that bothered you but the mystery of the speaker. 

Despite the rising frustration, you couldn't help the way your stomach tightened in anticipation every time the voice spoke. You were frustrated, yes, but curious just the same. . 

The bathroom was just down the hallway on the left, but as you were walking focused on reaching your destination, a door on your right opened up on its own. 

You stopped abruptly, your eyes drawn to the opening. It revealed a small meeting room, the interior shrouded in a dim light filtering weakly through a single window. You started to keep walking when something grabbed you by the arm and dragged you into the room.  The door swung shut behind you with a soft thud, followed by the distinct click of a lock engaging. Your heart pounded in your chest. You spun around, scanning the dimly lit space, but the room was empty. There was no one to be seen.

You felt like you were going crazy, and you fought hard to ignore the rising panic that rushed through your veins. but you knew this had to be one of the boys. It wouldn’t make sense for this to be anything else.

“What are you doing?” You spoke up, your voice cutting through the otherwise silence of the room. You folded your arms tightly across your chest, the simple gesture offering a small semblance of control in a situation that was rapidly slipping from your grasp.

Come on, doll. I just wanted to play a bit. The voice, a suggestive murmur that seemed to slither through the very air, sent a shiver down your spine. You just couldn't place it, couldn't identify which of them it belonged to, only that it was undeniably present, close. 

“Shouldn’t you be at lunch?” You shot back. Your eyes darted around the room, a frantic search for any presence, any clue for what was going on. However there was still only emptiness, void where there should have been someone. 

My lunch is right here, is it not? The voice said with a laugh. 

You blushed, cheeks becoming hot and turned towards the door to leave. You reached out for the handle, fingers grasping the cool metal.  But just as you began to turn it, a sudden pressure clamped around your wrist. The grip was firm, undeniably real, and it spun you around with unexpected force.

Your back hit the door with a thud and you let out a small gasp when you felt a solid presence push against you. You could feel the distinct shape of his thigh as it slotted in between yours, effectively trapping you against the door. You could feel the warmth of his breath as it ghosted against your lips. 

Hesitantly, you reached out a hand, your fingers brushing against a solid form in the empty space before you. You could feel him, the texture of his clothing rough beneath your fingertips, the heat emanating from his body. Yet, your eyes registered only the undisturbed darkness of the room. It was as if he existed just beyond the realm of sight, a tangible phantom. Sometimes, in the darkness, the space directly in front of you seemed to waver, to distort almost imperceptibly, but you quickly dismissed it as a trick of the light, perhaps your eyes playing tricks on you.

“Which one of you is doing this?” You breathed out, your voice only a whisper. 

Just be patient. This is what makes it fun, no? The voice purred, a hint of amusement lacing the words.

You couldn't help but let out a short, exasperated huff, turning your face away from the direction where you knew, or at least strongly suspected, he stood. 

Your small act of rebellion was met with the harsh pressure of his thigh pressing more forcefully in between yours and a sharp tug on your hair, which won the boy a surprised whine. 

You’re so easy, babydoll. The words, spoken close to your ear, were a taunt. 

You wanted to bite back, to tell him he was wrong. But you knew that he was right. Each of them possessed a certain undeniable charm, a potent allure that you were often powerless against. In the right circumstances, with the right touch, any single one of the boys could have you melting in their hands within a matter of moments. 

I wanted to play a game with you before our show this evening. I think it will be quite fun. 

The cool air of the empty room contrasted sharply with the sudden heat blooming across your skin as his lips pressed against the sensitive curve of your neck. The earlier encounter in the car replayed in your mind. His teeth grazed your skin, a sensation that sent a shiver down your spine before his mouth softened into a kiss. Your breath hitched as his fingertips slipped beneath the hem of your shirt. A soft whimper escaped your lips, a sound barely audible in the stillness. The darkness, the inability to see his face, heightened every other sensation, making each touch, each breath, feel intensely amplified. He continued his exploration, his hands now tracing the contours of your back, the small of your waist. He seemed to savor your quiet reactions, the subtle shifts in your breathing, the involuntary tremors that ran through you as his hands and mouth explored your skin. He did this for a few minutes, relishing in your quiet noises in the empty room.  

Then, as suddenly as he had begun, his presence directly before you vanished. A moment of disorientation passed before you felt him again, his hands now gliding upwards along the sensitive skin of your thighs. Then a constellation of gentle kisses followed in their wake, each press of his lips sending shivers through your body. His hands continued their upward journey, slipping beneath the edge of your skirt. The delicate lace of your panties, resting against your hip bones, became the focus of his teasing fingertips. You realized he had shifted, now kneeling before you. 

Should I eat you out, doll? Have you make a mess in your panties before our show? You know that some of them will be able to smell your arousal. 

The thought was startling; it made sense, but it wasn’t something you had thought was possible. Yet, as the initial surprise faded, the idea of the boys finding out, the idea of perhaps igniting envy or jealousy, sparked a flame inside of you.

A defiant smirk touched your lips as you broke the silence, "And what about you?" you countered, tilting your head slightly. "How will you be able to keep your arousal hidden from your fans, huh? Wouldn’t it be embarrassing for you to be hard like that on stage?" The question hung in the air, a mirror reflecting his own suggestion back at him, turning the tables in this intimate game of desire and control.

The voice laughed but didn’t give you an answer. There was a moment of silence before your phone dinged from your pocket. You pulled out your phone to see the following notification.

ENHYPEN started a LIVE: “Let's goooo!” 

There was silence in the room before you opened the live. You expected to be able to tell who was fucking with you because surely they'd be missing from the live. Your eyebrows raised when you counted all seven of them as they cheerfully introduced themselves and began talking about today's concert. They weren’t in their stage outfits, but their makeup was flawless and they all seemed to glow. And their hair had been done, or at least started, as a few of them still had clips in their hair.  

Are you surprised? The voice spoke again, fingers returning to your thighs and pressing upwards. Your legs trembled slightly at the contact. 

“How are you doing this?” you asked, scanning the live closely for any signs of who this was. Any clues to give you some sort of idea, but nothing stuck out.

I am a man of many talents, babydoll. Now, come sit. 

His hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you towards a chair beside the table. You plopped into the chair, already knowing that you wouldn’t have much of a choice in the matter and propped your phone up on the table in front of you. You watched as all the members laughed and talked amongst each other, reading comments and interacting with fans. 

You felt his presence appear behind you, you were now getting used to the shift in the atmosphere as he moved. He wrapped his slender fingers in your hair and pulled, allowing him to reach your neck again. His mouth pressed against the sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in its trail. He kissed your neck slowly, and you struggled to stay focused between the live and his actions. Then his hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off your air slightly. Surprised, you reached up your hand to his, but the action of dominance only turned you on. His other hand reached forward, grasping your chest over your shirt. You looked down and watched as the fabric moved with his touch, but nothing was there. Then you watched as the fabric of your shirt lifted, exposing the lacey fabric of your bra. 

You wore such pretty panties and a pretty bra, too? Is our little princess a slut? Almost as if you wished this would happen, huh? 

The pet name came out with a sarcastic bite, almost as if he was teasing you for Sunghoon calling you a princess earlier today. A soft moan escaped your lips as the pressure of his hands around your throat tightened, the sensation making you feel lightheaded. Then his free hand slipped into your bra, and his fingers found and roughly pinched your nipple. You gasped, an intense jolt shocked through you, the feeling a good mix of pleasure and pain. 

After a moment, he released his hand from around your throat and slid his other hand into your bra, joining the first one to circle and play with your nipples. You felt his breath against your neck as he stood behind you. The live continued on the table in front of you, yet still everything seemed normal, a contrast to the intimacy you were experiencing at the same time. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder.

“Why won't you tell me who you are?” You whispered, quiet moans slipping out afterward as his fingers continued their assault on your nipples. 

I’ve already given you a hint, but if you really want to know, it will have its consequences. 

You contemplated what he could mean by this. You couldn’t think of anything that could be too bad of an outcome. There were many vague possibilities but you thought, what was the worst that could happen anyway? 

“Tell me.” You insisted, urging him to answer you as his fingers continued to play with your hardened nipples. 

He chuckled quietly before his presence disappeared from behind you. After a moment, he appeared again, except now in front of you. Then you felt the warmth of his hands as they settled once more on your thighs, sending a new wave of shivers across your already sensitive skin. 

Tell me if it becomes too much, doll. I would never want to hurt you. 

His voice was gentle as he reassured you, but his hands were a silent contradiction to his words as he grasped your thighs harshly. You jumped at the sudden action, biting your lip to stop from making a startled noise. 

His touch was deliberate, his hands pulled your legs apart, slowly exposing the delicate lace of your panties to him from under your skirt. Heat rushed to your face as his fingers slowly teased up your legs, and you could feel warm presses of his mouth against the skin following in the wake of his fingers. You couldn’t help but spread your legs more as he moved closer and closer to your arousal, a subconscious invitation to the boy in front of you. 

You heard a quiet hum of possessive satisfaction from between your legs as you gave him access to you. A whimper escaped your lips as his fingers dragged slowly over the fabric of the silk barrier of your panties. The friction ignited you, and you arched slightly towards him, a silent plea for more. 

So pretty for us, aren't you? You want to show them how good you are? 

His voice teased you before you felt his fingers slide around to your hips and they began to pull your panties down. You lifted your hips to allow them to fall off around your ankles, and he lifted your legs and dropped them off to the side. 

It was overwhelming when you first felt his tongue brush against your heat. You gasped and leaned your head back, the pleasure rushing in waves through your body. He was quick to please you, it was almost as if he had been waiting impatiently for this moment despite all his teasing. His tongue lapped against you, quickly and easily finding your clit. You arched your hips towards him, your body craving more of his touch. Moans slipped from your mouth over and over, although you tried to keep them quiet, as in the back of your mind, you knew getting caught here would be quite an issue. 

Suddenly a sharp, deliberate clearing of a throat sliced through the air, the noise seemed strained, like it was meant to catch someone's attention. You opened your eyes and remembered that the boys were still live on your phone. It was Heeseung; he was looking straight into the camera, arms folded over his chest, but a slight smirk trailed across his face. 

You wondered why he was making that kind of face and whose attention he was trying to grab. Then you wondered if you'd be able to tell who was eating you out. You could recall brief pauses, moments that he must have been speaking during the live broadcast. But your thoughts were quickly distracted when the boy’s tongue found your clit once more. You let out a lewd whine at the pleasure. You watched the live through hooded eyes. The members seemed restless. Jay’s legs were tightly crossed, and a faint flush bloomed across Ni-ki’s cheeks. 

The boy below you paused for a moment. 

Do you see the effect you have on them, Doll? 

You felt heat creep up your neck as the implications of his words. 

“W-What do you mean?” you whispered. Your gaze flickered back to the live stream, this time noticing the subtle adjustments in their postures, how it seemed like all of them were sitting in ways that would potentially hide their arousal. 

I told you, knowing who I am would have its consequences. He chuckled. They can hear you and all your pretty noises. He paused, the air thick with anticipation. And now I’m going to let them hear how good I can make you feel. 

You didn’t have much time to process everything before you felt his fingers push into you and his tongue finding its place once more. You couldn’t help but gasp at the feeling. His slender fingers worked into you easily, stealing your breath at the immediate bliss you felt. 

The fact that the boys could hear your reactions, your pleasure, turned you on. Even though you were quite shy and had never been in a situation like this, you couldn't deny the intoxicating pull of knowing that you seemed to affect all of them. You didn’t mind it at all. In fact, you reveled in the idea of the influence you had over them.

You could tell you were getting close as the boy's fingers thrust into you and his tongue worked against your clit. Moans, and whimpers escaped your lips, each sound a testament to the sensations building within you. You let the lewd noises fall from your mouth, the idea that they could hear you, encouraging you to let them flow naturally. 

The live was coming to an end, and the boys were saying their goodbyes. You so desperately wanted to watch them react as you came, their eyes widening as the waves of your climax crashed over you, but it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. Your gaze remained fixed on the screen, a silent plea for them to stay for just a moment longer. You watched as the screen went dark and the live feed stopped. 

The boy below you seemed to be able to be more focused now, although you were still unsure who it was. That was until you looked down and watched as a blonde-haired boy appeared on his knees before you and looked up at you through thick eyelashes. He had appeared in what almost seemed like a mist that dissipated before your eyes, leaving the boy behind in its place. 

“Sunoo?!” you squeaked, surprised. 

He didn't answer with words. Instead, a slow, knowing smirk played on his lips as his head dipped back between your legs. Your hands reached down almost instinctively into his hair, your orgasm approaching quickly now, surging forward with a violent intensity now that you knew who had been tormenting you all day.

“Fuck–” you cursed, the pleasure you were feeling was overwhelming now that you could actually see who it was, now that you could truly touch him and see him. 

Sunoo’s fingers curled inside of you, quickly pushing you over the edge. Your breath hitched before turning into a ragged moan as you started to cum. “Sunoo,” you gasped, his name a broken plea, which earned you a contented hum. Your legs trembled, bucking slightly, but Sunoo held you firmly in place as he continued the pace.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, and you whined, overstimulation causing you to shake. But he didn't stop; his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer to him. Your head dropped back as you tried to pull away from him, the feeling overwhelming. 

“Sun–sunoo please–” you begged, fingers tightening in his hair as you tried to pull him away from you. 

He kept going until he was pulling desperate, incoherent whines from you, and your body shook relentlessly. 

He eventually let you go, and he leaned back. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his breathing still ragged, before raking his fingers through his disheveled hair. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, a satisfied smile on his face. Then he stood, stretching his long limbs before he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“This was you all along?” you breathed out, slumping back into the chair and looking around for your panties. 

Sunoo simply smiled, a picture of innocent charm. His eyes crinkled into familiar little crescents that always seemed so disarming and kind. How could that same sweet face harbor such a sadistic and secretive intent? 

He shifted, a sudden movement that broke your thoughts, “I have to go,” he announced, almost regretful. “But I'll see you later, pretty! Thanks for playing with me.~” He said with a lilt before he leaned over, kissed you quickly on the mouth, and then disappeared right before your eyes. You stared at the spot where he had stood, your mind still struggling to grab everything that had just happened.

Now that you were alone, you found your panties and put them back on. You smoothed down your clothes and picked up your phone, the screen lighting up to find several missed text messages. 

Hoon: “wow princess, playing without me?” 

Heeseung: “Mmm, cute.” 

Jakey: “Hope you're still coming to the show… I really want to see you.” 

Your face was hot. They really had heard everything. Every gasp, every moan. You shook your head slightly, trying to ground yourself, and then headed to the door, peeking out to make sure no one was in the hallway and finally making your way to the bathroom. You cleaned up and made yourself more presentable and not like someone had just made you cum in a random office. 

You looked at your phone as you walked back to the green room, it was already time for the boys to be getting dressed and soundcheck would be starting soon. 

The concert was amazing, they all did so well, and they looked great. They knew where you were, so they made an effort to wave to you and give you unnecessary fanservice. Yet, amidst the dazzling smiles and practiced interactions with fans, distraction seemed to flicker in their eyes at times. A subtle shift in focus, a momentary lapse in their otherwise unwavering stage presence. You wondered if they were thinking about you and what happened just as much as you couldn’t help but be thinking about them. 

After the show, the backstage green room felt like a different world, a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of the stage. The air was thick with anticipation, your own nerves a tangled knot in your stomach. You would be lying if you said you weren’t anxious about seeing them after what had happened this afternoon. 

Jay came in first, his entrance a welcome wave of calm that he always managed to carry so well. He smiled at you, kind and reassuring in a way that quickly ease your nervous tension. 

“How was it?” He asked, flopping onto the couch with a sigh and grabbing a bottle of water. 

Heeseung and Sunghoon followed, their voices a low murmur as they continued a conversation that had started before they entered.

“It was amazing, you guys did wonderfully.” You managed a smile in response to Jay, your words tumbling out slightly faster than you intended. 

Heeseung nodded briefly, hearing your praise,  “I agree, It was a good show tonight.”

With a burst of loud laughter, the door swung open, shattering the calmness of the room just moments before. Ni-ki and Jake tumbled into the room.  Ni-ki, his finger pointed accusingly at Jake, was doubled over with laughter. “Your voice definitely cracked!”

Jake’s immediate denial was equally vehement, punctuated by a light punch to Ni-ki’s shoulder. “It did not! You’re lying!” his voice was a bit of a whine. 

When they realised you were standing there, they both quieted down quickly.  Ni-ki’s face flushed red as he turned away, busying himself with his bag, his excitement gone. 

“Y/n…” Jake started, his voice quieter, before he walked up to you. 

“You did a great job today, Jake.” You responded, unconsciously taking a small step back at the unexpected proximity and intensity of his gaze.

He just smiled in response before he closed the remaining space between you and wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off your feet in a tight, unexpected hug.

“Oh–” you managed, a small squeak escaping your lips, completely caught off guard by the sudden embrace, but you hugged him back, his hug easing more of the anxious tension in your body. 

“I’m really glad you're here,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a tingle down your spine. He held you like this for a moment longer than necessary before he reluctantly placed you back down on the ground, his gaze still locked on you.

“We all are,” a soft voice echoed from behind him. You turned to see Sunoo leaning against the doorframe, a gentle smile gracing his lips as his eyes met yours.

A blush crept up your neck and warmed your cheeks under their combined gazes. But the tension that had ignited the air in the room quickly dissipated as the door swung open and their manager walked in, rushing the boys to leave and head to the vans. 

You trailed after the group as they made their way out of the venue and towards the waiting vans that would take them back to the dorm. A nagging feeling tugged at your mind as you scanned the group. Jungwon was nowhere to be seen. But your concern was just as quickly forgotten as a playful fight broke out near the van. Jake, with a mischievous grin, shoved a protesting Sunghoon out of the way so he could get into the van first. 

Sunghoon then took Jake’s old spot in the front with the driver. Shaking his head in annoyance as he plopped down in the seat. 

When you stepped into the van you remembered this morning when Sunoo had caused you to flash everyone, and you wondered if he was going to try to pull a similar stunt. Thankfully, he didn’t. 

You found your place in the back once more this time in between Sunoo and an overly cheerful Jake who had stolen Sunghoon’s spot. 

You clicked your seatbelt into place and sighed, a sense of fatigue hitting you from the long day. You knew the boys must feel similarly, if not more so, after a long and strenuous performance. 

This time, Sunoo was the one with his eyes closed. You wondered if his powers were tiresome and if he had worn himself out on top of their concert.

You looked over to Jake, who turned to meet your glance when he noticed you watching him. 

“You can rest on me if you’re tired y/n.” He smiled, patting his shoulder. 

“Thanks Jake.” You replied, and you allowed yourself to lean into him, his warmth easing you into a comfortable doze as the vans took off towards the dorms.

You woke up just before the vans pulled up to the dorms, Jake was dozing too, his hand resting on your thigh a little higher than what would normally be considered appropriate and his head leaning backwards against the headrest. You couldn’t help but wonder why he was so clingy all of a sudden, but you really didn’t mind. 

Everyone slowly trickled out of the vans, thanking the managers and grabbing their bags before heading inside. You lingered, watching as the boys headed into the dorm. Being the last one in, you were met with a haphazard heap of shoes left in a chaotic mess at the door. You nudged the scattered shoes into some sort of order, creating a pathway so no one tripped coming in or leaving. 

Everyone was now doing their own thing, some headed into their bedrooms, eager to unpack or change into comfortable clothes. Some headed into the common areas, ready to just go ahead and relax without worrying about unpacking their things. The promise of a day off tomorrow hung in the air. 

The quiet was broken by Ni-ki. He leaned against the doorframe of the living room, a playful glint in his eyes.”I think we should have a tournament,” He announced. ”I’m in the mood to get first place.” His tone was provacative, an obvious tactic to try and get the other guys to join him. 

Jay, who had already made himself comfortable on the couch let out a laugh. “You literally suck at games dude,” he retorded. He was already dressed for comfort, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

“Bet?” Ni-ki challenged, his eyes locking onto the older member. Without waiting for Jay’s response, he reached for a PlayStation controller, switching on the console. He then tossed the second controller to Jay before settling down beside him on the floor, his gaze already fixed on the loading screen.

You shook your head and smiled at their familiar banter before heading into the kitchen. You knew the boys needed to eat, so you opened the freezer to see what you could throw in the oven for them to snack on. There wasn’t much, but you decided that the frozen pizzas would have to do. You were a bit too worn out to make anything more complex, and you knew the boys would honestly eat anything. 

Heeseung had quietly slipped away to take a shower. A long, hot shower was one of his preferred methods of relaxing and unwinding. The sound of the water running could soon be heard from down the hall. Sunghoon and Jake, drawn by the unfolding drama, had joined the other two in the living room, opting to join in on their video game tournament. 

Sunoo, however, had already gone into his room, and the door was closed.  You were unsure if he planned on coming back out or not this evening. 

“Hey.” The soft sound came from behind you as you slipped the frozen pizzas into the oven, the heat warming your face before you closed the door. You turned around to find Jungwon standing just inside the kitchen. He seemed stiff and his posture awkward, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond you.

“Hi Wonnie, you okay?” you asked, concerned, “I didn’t see you after the show.” You took a step forward, instinctively wanting to close the distance between you and your best friend. Jungwon was usually so vibrant and full of energy after a performance, but now he seemed strangely subdued, almost… troubled.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just– I needed to talk with the manager and ended up going to the vans right away.” His reply was short, and he still wouldn't meet your gaze. He shifted his weight, hands disappearing into the pockets of his sweatpants, the fabric pulling tightly against his thighs.

You offered him a soft, reassuring smile, hoping to break through this strange barrier Jungwon had created. You took a step forward, stepping into his personal space. You slipped your arms between his arms and his sides, wrapping them around his torso in a warm embrace. For a moment, you felt his body tense beneath your touch, a reaction of surprise or perhaps resistance. Then, with a soft sigh that you felt more than heard, his muscles relaxed. He pulled his hands out from his pockets, his own arms circling your back, his chin resting gently on the top of your head.

“You did such a great job today Won.” you murmured quietly, closing your eyes and leaning into the familiar warmth of his body. The subtle scent of his cologne filled your senses, a comforting smell you had since associated with the feeling of home. A scent that always calmed your nerves and made you feel safe. 

“Thank you y/n. I am always happy when you’re around.” He replied, his voice soft. You both stood in comfortable silence for a few moments before you released him, your hands resting briefly against the soft fabric at his waist before reluctantly falling back to your sides. 

He seemed a bit more relaxed now, although still a bit awkward, his eyes still avoiding yours. “I just– It’s hard too–,” Jungwon began, the words catching in his throat. His brow furrowed in concentration as he visibly wrestled with trying to find the words he wanted to say. He opened his mouth, closed it, then shifted his weight again, still obviously bothered by something. 

“Hyung!” Ni-ki’s voice echoed from the living room, the shout slicing throught the tense atmosphere in the kitchen “We are waiting on you! Hurry up!” 

‘Ah.. Coming!” He shouted back as he glanced over his shoulder towards the living room. Turning his attention back to you, his expression softened slightly, a hint of reluctance in his eyes. “I guess I need to join them,” he said, a small, lopsided smile gracing his lips. Then he turned and headed into the living room, leaving you alone with the sense of unspoken words heavy in the air. 

You leaned forward against the island, peering into the living room and watching as the boys argued and laughed amongst themselves as Jungwon joined them. 

Finally. I want to finish what I started earlier today. The unbodied voice, one you now recognized as belonging to Sunoo, resonated directly within your mind. His voice was laced with desire, sending a shiver tracing its way down your spine. The air in the kitchen suddenly felt charged, electric. 

You jolted, having not expected a voice to be so close to you, since, to the naked eye, you were alone in the kitchen. 

“Sunoo, I have to wait for the pizza to finish,” you whispered in reply, a teasing lilt in your voice. You couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of your mouth.  

Suddenly, you felt his presence press against your back, not with physical weight, but with a distinct sense of nearness, a warm, insistent pressure that pushed you gently against the cool, unyielding surface of the kitchen counter. The unexpected proximity, the feeling of his intangible form molding itself against the contours of your body, sent a rush of heat flooding through you, starting in the pit of your stomach and spreading rapidly through your limbs. Your breath hitched, and the playful smirk faded, replaced by a flush that warmed your cheeks. The task of waiting for pizza suddenly felt charged with an entirely different kind of anticipation.

We have enough time. You just have to be quiet Doll. 

Your skin tingled at the implications of his words, and you gasped when you felt his hips roll against you from behind. His cock was hard against you as he rutted against you again.

You felt his hands glide up against the back of your thighs, his fingernails slightly scratching your skin, before slowly pushing the fabric of your skirt up over your ass. 

“Sunoo!” you hissed quietly, not wanting to alert the rowdy boys distracted by their game in the living room. “We can’t–,” your response was interrupted by the feeling of his fingers rubbing your heat through your underwear. 

Sure we can; they’re preoccupied. I know you can be quiet, can't you? He replied as his fingers continued to touch you teasingly. You could tell he had no intention of stopping his actions unless you clearly told him too. 

“And if we get caught?” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed. The feeling of arousal coursing through you as his fingers continued to tease you.

Then you might have some other problems that need to be taken care of I suppose. Not that I would mind watching, honestly. 

You shuddered at the thought of being caught and arousing the other guys once again today.

The realization of your own magnetic pull on them was intoxicating, a mix of power and vulnerability that kept you teetering on the edge of being caught, a dangerous game you found yourself increasingly drawn to playing.

You leaned forward, giving Sunoo more access to you, and he took this opportunity to slide your panties to the side. Your skin turned hot when you felt his cock side up and down your heat, a motion that was almost too easy due to how aroused you already were. He teased you like this for a moment, the head of his cock sending a jolt through you everytime it slid against your clit. 

Such a good girl. You felt him whisper against your ear as he began to push into you. You bit your lip harshly, doing everything you could to hold back the noises that so desperately wanted to escape. 

Sunoo was slow, he took his time pushing into you with ease until he bottomed out. 

You couldn’t help the tiny whine that escaped your lips at the feeling of being full, his cock twitching inside of you in response. Thankfully, the boys in the living room were too caught up in their game to notice anything happening in the room behind them. 

Sunoo’s hands grabbed onto your hips, fingers pressing into your skin as he slowly fucked you. It was torturous, the feeling of his length sliding almost completely out of you, then slowly filling you back up. The worst part, is that he never really sped up, he continued to fuck you slowly, seemingly wanting to memorize every inch of inside of you. Your knuckles were white as you clenched your fists on top of the marble island, probably as white as Sunoo’s knuckles were, considering the way he was holding your hips. 

He wouldn’t let you move, he simply fucked you as he wanted. He ignored you every time you tried to push back against him, only holding you against the island harder. You wondered if he was edging himself, if the slowness wasn’t torture for him the way it was for you. Nonetheless, your legs shook underneath you at the pleasure his actions created inside of you. 

After a few minutes of this, Sunoo pulled you back a bit until you were leaning over, elbows resting on the island. 

So pretty like this baby, letting me take you as I want, wherever I want. He praised, the view of you being bent over like this only spurring him on. 

He took one arm and wrapped it around your waist, holding you steady, while the other arm reached around you and his hand dipped into the front of your panties. His fingers quickly found your clit, sliding over it again and again with practiced ease. 

You couldn’t help but drop your head forward, gaze now staring at the island underneath you instead of watching out for anyone getting up in the living room. You were panting a bit, doing everything in your power to stay quiet, although tiny whimpers still found their way out with every particularly deep thrust, the head of his cock grazing against your cervix. 

You trust me y/n? Sunoo said suddenly and you could hear just how fucked out he was in his voice. You nodded, head still tilted down towards the island below you. Sunoo suddenly picked up the pace, and his arm around your waist tightened. 

“Y/n?” You heard from in front of you, and an icy chill ran down your spine. You had been caught. 

Suddenly, before you could even react, Sunoo’s hand, which had been steady at your waist, shot upwards, covering your mouth with surprising force. He hauled you backwards, flush against him as he continued to fuck you without even a moment of pause, his fingers still working as best as they could from this position. 

In front of you was Jungwon, standing at the edge of the island opposite you. You trembled as his gaze bore into you, unwavering and intense. Heat flooded your cheeks, a blush that spread rapidly across your face and down your neck. You couldn't tell if you were embarrassed about being caught, or aroused by the fact that your best friend was now watching you. You subconsciously tightened around Sunoo’s causing him to grunt quietly. 

Fuck— you like him watching you huh? Sunoo breathed into your ear. 

Slut. The word stung, the degradation catching you off guard. You whimpered into his hand that was still tight across your mouth in response. 

“Has anyone seen y/n?” Jungwon asked, turning away from you and looking back into the living room. He was met with a chorus of shrugs and no’s. 

You heard Sunoo chuckle before he released his hand from your mouth and put it back around your waist. You looked down, trying to understand why Jungwon had pretended like you weren't there. Then you saw it, the almost imperceptible shimmer in the air around you, the way the light seemed to distort slightly at your edges. Just like Sunoo, you were somehow, impossibly, invisible.

Then, before you could even process this fact, Sunoo suddenly bent you over harshly, and your chest and cheek were met with the coolness of the marble island. He changed his pace; what was once slow and sensual was now rough and aggressive. His hand pressed into your back, holding you in place against the island as he fucked you, his fingers picking up their pace on your swollen clit. 

You bit your lip, even though Jungwon couldn’t see you, you didn’t know if he’d be able to hear you, and he was still standing near the edge of the kitchen. 

You were getting close now, the faster pace and Sunoo’s fingers against your clit were pushing you closer and closer. You could hear Sunoo’s labored breathing, so you knew he was getting close too. 

Fuck– taking you in front of them and they don’t even know it. It’s so fucking hot y/n. Sunoo whispered, his hand resting on your back, clenched around the fabric of your shirt. And you are being so good aren’t you babydoll? The sudden praise sent a fresh jolt of electricity through your already sensitized nerves.

A small nod was all you could manage, your head swimming with the dizzying nearness of your orgasm. 

“Sunoo…” you whispered as quietly as you could, “close…” 

I know, me too. His reply was immediate, his pace quickening even more, each thrust becoming more and more urgent. You have to stay quiet, let's not disturb the boys, hmm? 

His fingers circled your clit harshly as his tempo became sloppy. You reached up to cover your own mouth as your orgasm quickly approached. You looked up, watching as the boys in the room had no idea this was happening behind them, and the thought combined with Sunoo’s strong thrusts tipped you over the edge. 

You pressed your hand tightly against your mouth, and your eyes shut and rolled back as you came. Your legs shook as you tightened around Sunoo’s cock, effectively pushing him closer to the edge. He fucked you through it, doing his best to hold his own orgasm back until he couldn’t any longer. He pulled out of you, and turned you around to face him. You watched as he materialized before you, his own cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. He lifted your skirt and pulled your panties away from your body before cumming onto the lacey material. 

After he was finished, he let the elastic fabric of the waistband snap back against your skin effectively trapping his cum against your still throbbing pussy. The act was surprisingly lewd, and you couldn’t help but blush at the feeling of his cum soaking your panties along with yours. 

I would have cum inside you if I had the option too. But I also dont think my bandmates would appreciate me cumming on the kitchen floor you know? He shrugged, a knowing and sinister smirk on his face. You could see through his excuses. He just wanted you to figure out how to deal with your soaking panties without getting caught. 

He helped you fix your clothes and pushed the stray pieces of your hair behind your ear before kissing you on the cheek and disappearing again. You looked down at yourself and realized you were visible again, too. You shook your head in disbelief, the events from today had all been so much. Just as you were trying to collect your thoughts, trying to process everything that had happened, the oven beeped, signaling that the long-forgotten pizza was finally done. 

You turned to look around, realizing that Jungwon had found his seat again in the living room. You took a step forward towards the oven, but your legs shook as you tried to move, giving you the appearance of a newborn deer. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, a mix of frustration and amusement, and you couldn’t help but laugh. How on earth were you supposed to make a graceful exit while battling legs that felt as though they had just completed a hike up a mountain without any prior conditioning? 

You cautiously walked towards the oven, using the island as a crutch, then you carefully took out the pizzas and set them on the counter. Thankfully, you had been smart enough to leave the pizza cutter out, so you cut the pizzas into slices for the boys. They could figure out how to share and get their slices themselves. A deep breath filled your lungs, a conscious effort to regain composure. You needed to leave before anyone noticed you were acting differently.

You slowly walked towards the living room, the wetness of your panties causing your face to remain a very noticeable shade of red. You were trying to sneak out, maybe that would be the best option to get out of the dorm. 

Just as you had mentally mapped out your escape route, a single foot past the couch, a voice cut through the room, “Y/n, are you leaving?” You winced slightly, hoping you would have at least made it to your shoes before being noticed. The voice belonged to Jake, and as you turned to face him, his expression was one of sadness, his eyes mirroring those of a dejected puppy.

“Yeah, the pizza is ready, though! You guys make sure to eat, and I'll see you soon.” You said in a rush, awkwardly bending over to try and put on your shoes. Your legs trembled as you were bent over tying the laces. 

Suddenly, another pair of legs entered your immediate view. Someone else had joined you near the entryway, also intent on putting on their shoes. Your gaze drifted downward, noting the slender fingers tying the laces of what looked like well-worn boots. "I'm gonna walk you home. It's late." Jake announced, his voice adamant.

While you appreciated the gesture, you hadn't anticipated an escort, especially not Jake. Straightening up, you plastered a reassuring smile on your face, hoping to dissuade him. "It's really okay Jake! You don't have to," you insisted, trying to sound convincing.

Jake, however, remained unmoved. He simply shook his head, a gentle but firm denial. Before you could protest further, he reached for your hand, his touch warm against your skin. He then turned and opened the door, leading you out into the cool night air.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye!” You laughed as you watched him reach back to lock the door behind him. 

"Oops," Jake responded simply. He gave a slight shrug, his eyes twinkling in the dim light before he tightened his grip on your hand once more and gently pulled you along the sidewalk.

You fell into a comfortable silence, allowing him to lead the way. Jake had always been sweet, and his flirtatious nature was something you had grown accustomed to. However, this sudden protectiveness, this almost insistent need to walk you home, felt different. It was a level of clinginess you hadn't experienced with him before. 

The walk home was mostly quiet; you could tell Jake was nervous about something, but he continued to hold your hand as you walked. You didn’t mind because you were mostly focused on trying to keep your legs steady. 

A few minutes passed and as you approached your apartment, Jake paused, his gaze lifting to the sky above. “The moon is pretty, isn’t it?” He said quietly, before turning back to look at you. 

You looked up. The moon was radiating a soft glow; it was almost full. “It is pretty.” You agreed. 

“Almost as pretty as you.” Jake mumbled. He was so quiet that you almost missed it, you almost thought your mind was playing tricks on you again. 

“Jake—,” you started, a warm blush creeping over your cheeks, a reaction to his unexpected compliment.

“Hey, look,” he interrupted you, his grip on your hand tightening slightly, “I have a special event coming up.” He reached up with his other hand to grab the back of his neck, a tell-tale sign of his nervousness, “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come with me as my plus one.”

“Oh?” You stuttered, not expecting him to ask something like this. “I—I mean, I’d love to. Are you sure it’s a good idea?” 

“It’s a private event. I.. I already talked to our manager and got the okay.” He admitted shyly, dropping his free hand back down and putting it in his pocket. His other hand still held yours, it seemed like he was afraid to let go. 

“Then sure Jake, I’d love to go with you.” You responded, returning a gentle squeeze of your own to his hand. 

A wave of pure relief washed over Jake's face, manifesting as a wide, unrestrained grin. Then, with a gentle tug, he pulled your hand that he had been holding and wrapped his arms around you just like he had earlier this evening. It was the same comforting hug he had offered before, but this time it carried a heavier weight of emotion. You returned the hug, leaning your cheek against his chest, and melting into his warmth. He was always so warm. 

Lost in the moment, enveloped in the closeness, Jake suddenly broke the silence. “Are you wearing perfume?” he asked, his voice muffled slightly against your hair as he still held you tightly against his chest. The unexpected question, delivered with a hint of curiosity, caught you off guard.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “Uh… no, it would have completely worn off by now,” you replied, amused by the randomness of his question. It had been hours since you had gotten ready, and any fragrance would surely have faded into nothingness.

“Hmm… you just smell really good.” He mumbled, before pulling away from you slightly, just enough to look down into your eyes.

His hands, which had been wrapped around your upper back, now settled firmly on your waist, his thumbs gently tracing the curve of your hips. The proximity was undeniably intimate. You were close enough to feel the warmth of his breath. He was close enough that he could easily kiss you if he wanted to. The air crackled with anticipation as you gazed at him in silence, your heart pounding against your ribs. You noticed his subtle nervous habit – the way he momentarily bit his lower lip, a gesture that showed a hint of his own inner turmoil. Did he want to kiss you? The moment stretched, thick with unspoken feelings, before he finally let go of you.

Stepping back, Jake shoved his hands into his pockets once more, “Anyway, I’ll see you soon then?” he said, the casual tone attempting to mask the lingering intimacy of the previous moment.

“Of course.” You replied, reaching into your shoulder bag, you fumbled for your apartment keys, the metallic jingle momentarily breaking the subtle tension. Jake patiently waited as you located the keys, unlocked the door, and stepped across the threshold of your apartment. Only once you were inside did he finally turn to leave.

“Bye y/n!” he called out as he walked away, his hands still tucked securely in his pockets.

“Bye Jake, get back home safely!” you called back, watching his retreating figure. He turned his head, offering a warm smile and a quick nod before continuing on his way. You lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching him until he was almost out of sight, before finally closing the door.

The click of the deadbolt echoed in the quiet of the apartment as you locked the door, a small but definitive action that signaled the end of your long day. With a sigh of contentment, you took off your worn sneakers, the weight lifting from your tired feet. Your focus shifted immediately to the promise of warmth and cleanliness awaiting you in the bathroom. A well-aimed toss sent your soiled clothes tumbling into the laundry basket, followed by the sound of rushing water filling the silence as you turned on the water. You waited for the temperature to warm up before you finally stepped in. The warmth of the water soothed the tension in your shoulders and neck as a wave of relaxation spread through your limbs. You could feel the stress of the day, not of hardship or negativity, but of the sheer weight of emotional engagement, slowly dissolving and swirling down the drain. You washed, dried your hair, and put on a pair of your favorite pajamas before heading off to the bedroom. The sight of your bed, with its smooth, cool sheets, was an open invitation. You slipped beneath the covers and pulled the sheets up to your face. 

You replayed the day's events in your head. Your heart twisted as it replayed through the different moments of intimacy and care. You wondered briefly if what was happening was really okay, you worried about someone getting hurt. But then again, you were unsure that you’d truly want to change anything. You were content with how things were now even with this new change to your relationship with each of the boys. You continued to daydream, but It wasn't long before the gentle pull of exhaustion claimed you, lulling you into a much-needed sleep. One you’d likely need if you were going to have more days like this one in the future. 

☾ author note: thank you for reading! Sorry for the long wait! This chapter was challenging, along with my health recently. please comment below if you want to be added to the taglist and let me know how you enjoyed this chapter!

chapter four (coming soon)

chapter directory

[tiodolma]

...would have at one blow put an end to her misfortunes, had not King Marcus, whose love for Yseult daily increased, though ever so ill requited, rushed from behind the area, where he had hid himself in order to enjoy the pleasure of hearing her voice, and took her up in his arms, before she could fulfill her desperate purpose. He then left her once more to the care of Brangien and Dinas, charging them to keep a better watch, and not leave the Queen one instant to herself... ...As for Marcus, seeing that it was his nephew, he considered nothing but his piteous condition, and was the first to recommend him to the care and skill of his royal consort.

KING MARK YOU ARE SO NICE

[floatyflowers]

Please pleaseee more Yandere male Cinderella!!!!

You are from a wealthy noble family, whose family are friends with the Tremaines.

When you saw Elliot's (Male Cinderella/Ella) condition, you felt sympathy at how the Tremaines treats him.

He's soft-spoken and charming at first, after he accept your kind acts, mistaking it for romantic gestures.

"This gift is for me?...but I don't deserve such kindness!"

And he may have a fragile sense of self-worth, making his need for your approval obsessive.

Cinderella's cruel stepfamily could serve as an advantage, showing why he clings to you so desperately.

Or perhaps one of the step siblings develops feelings for you, igniting Cinderellon's jealousy.

But what really sets him off is when you say that you will go to the ball held by the king to have his son, the prince, choose a wife.

Elliot is determined to attend the royal ball to capture your attention, even though his charming intention hides an intense possessiveness, as he vows to not let anyone else dance with you.

When his step siblings destroy his outfit for the ball, he decides to kill them by poisoning their food...and the food of his step mother.

Then a fairy appeared after he buried their bodies in his backyard.

Well, he was going to kill them anyway, so he can have his home and status back.

Elliot believes that providing you with the best life style is what you deserve.

The fairy godmother granted him his wish to go to the ball in the best clothes and carriage.

He also asked for a little something from her, a magical necklace that would enchant you in falling for him.

When he arrives to the ball, everyone was entranced by him, but you were already too focused, dancing with the prince.

He walks over to you both with a gentle smile, before offering his hand to you.

"If you allow me, my prince, I would like to steal my fiancee for a dance."

The prince was shocked as you were, but the prince agreed despite wanting to spend more time with you.

"Elliot...you look different tonight, and those shoes are beautiful."

"I want you to see me in my best as you saw in my worst."

Through the dance, Elliot leans and places his lips against yours, confessing his love.

And you also confessed yours.

Resulting in a happily ever after with him.

Or is it a happily ever after? I mean prince charming seems to also want you.

[xiepheer]

hello!! see your new hehe can u do headcannons on what yandere beasts would be like with a spouse, whos real gentleeeee

Yandere Beasts with their gentle spouses! 💖

Hello everyone! Doing one of my first requests! I hope u like this! ⸜(｡˃ ��� ˂ )⸝♡

Also reader here is GN so u can choose what gender this will take over!

Now unfortunately, due to the lack of information of the 2 other beast cookies, I would only do 3 which are the released cookies. I hope yall forgive me 😭🙏

Happy Valentine's my pookies!

Shadow Milk cookie

Ahh the master of deceit. What a surprise.

Now of course, with his spouse he very VERY loves would do anything for them.

The jester clown would do anything for his gentle spouse.

Everyone didn't expect the clown to have a spouse who is also very loyal to him.

The beast of deceit, having a spouse. Cookies wondered who even wanted to be with them? (me.)

His beloved spouse was not only small and petite that needed his protection, but also is gentle and is the only cookie that cared for him.

Now he is a jealous cookie.

He does NOT like male cookies that he doesn't trust or know.

This jester would do anything for his darling spouse.

He would kill

He would rob

He would destroy

All for his beloved spouse.

After the forks trapped them, he was worried. Scared.

Scared that another cookie might still his beloved spouse while he's sealed in the silver tree.

Worried that they might get hurt but he can trust Candy Apple cookie and Black Sapphire cookie, right?

Right and wrong.

Candy Apple cookie tried many ways to isolate or make her 'Master Shadow Milk cookie' hate his spouse but couldn't do so.

Candy Apple's jealousy just grew when she sees her master's smile grow wider when he sees his lovely beloved spouse.

Now Black Sapphire Cookie watch over his Master's spouse. He would make sure that Candy Apple cookie don't hurt them.

Or else not only Candy Apple cookie be doomed, but also him for not protecting them.

He would do anything for them. He would destroy everything. Cause chaos. Just for them.

Just to show his 'love' to them.

He would destroy everyone that has a problem agaidnt his spouse.

Have a bully? Sure no problem

Got someone liking them? He would NOT let the cookie that likes his spouse slide. His spouse is his only.

Got someone his spouse would like to get rid of? Sure he can make them into his puppets.

His spouse is only his and his only.

Burning Spice cookie

Now Burning Spice cookie would be the type of ruler with a LOT of spouses but of course, he has favoritism.

This specific spouse was the only soft cookie he has encountered in the Spice desert or Spice Kingdom.

All his other spouses were not the same as his chosen one.

They were all rude and mean, meanwhile his chosen one was gentle, soft, and kind.

This was what he wanted. Under all those destruction, he also needs some relief but couldn't do so since his other spouses acted so rude to him like how any ordinary spice cookies would be.

His favorite spouse is gentle, soft, nice, and despite his destructive personality, they would not leave him.

That is what made him want them more.

Their soft dough, cute dimples, soft cheeks, gentle and carefree personality made him go crazy.

He NEEDS to protect them.

No matter what. He needs to.

The Great Destroyer has needs too.

This Great Destroyer would go crazy for them.

He would destroy countless villages or cities just for them.

After the forks trapped them, he was cursing the witches for sealing him and his friends and most importantly, sealing him away from his beloved spouse.

He was angered. He tried the best he could to try and break free from the forks but the forks wouldn't budge.

Countless attempts of breaking free using his axe and nothing worked.

Now after he was sealed, he can only count on Nutmeg Tiger cookie to protect them and make them the ruler while he was gone.

Nutmeg Tiger cookie on the other hand, did the command. She knew too well what's gonna happen if she disobeys his command.

His other spouses whom he didn't seem to care about but his beloved spouse was angered.

They were all protesting, "Why didn't WE get a turn!?", "This is so unfair!", "let us do what we want since we're his spouses as well!"

Nutmeg Tiger cookie did nothing to them but use her guards agaidnt them.

Telling them if they ever hurted The Great Destroyer's beloved chosen spouse, he would destroy them with no second thought.

Meanwhile, in the silver tree, he couldn't stop thinking about his beloved one. He was actually scared.

Scared that his spouse mind get ended by his other spouses due to jealousy.

But back to the kingdom, they knew better than to mess with Burning Spice cookie.

And they came to the conclusion that his favorite spouse is his and his only.

Mystic Flour cookie

Ahh the cookie of Apathy.

She might not show it to her spouse but her spouse will know she actually loves them by how gentle she is with them.

She has not been gentle with any cookies yet since her corruption.

And yet, eversince she has found them, she felt the urgent need to protect them, to give them whatever they wanted, to love them like no one did to her.

She has always been caused chaos with the other cookies but after she married her spouse, she changed.

She felt an fluttering feeling she hadn't felt.

Now her spouse being the gentle cookie they are, always wanted her.

The cookie of Apathy wasn't expecting such thing.

She was gonna turn the cookie into flour when she couldn't bear to do it.

She has a feeling she has not felt before.

She vowed to protect her beloved spouse, bring what they needed for them.

She would turn any cookies and friends are NOT excluded into flour.

She would cause mass destruction and chaos in Earthbread just for them.

She would do anything for her gentle spouse.

She would love their kisses, hugs, and cuddles coming from them.

Now since those forks fell on her, she just knew she couldn't leave her beloved spouse all alone without her guard.

She desperately tried so hard to reach out for them but the seal closed.

Her beloved spouse was also reaching out as well.

Her days were filled in sorrow and sadness as the thought of her beloved spouse all alone out there, without protection filled her head.

Although she doesn't show it, she would cry a little as the thought takes over.

Her jam was also stripped away from her which made her feel a little weak but not weak enough for her to be considered as a normal cookie again.

She trusts that Could Haetae cookie would watch over her spouse and keep them safe until she has returned and until her soul jam has returned to her.

Now being with Cloud Haetae, they would try their hardest and best to keep their beloved Mystic Flour cookie's beloved spouse safe.

They worked for them, was there for them like Mystic Flour cookie.

With the reminder of the cookie of Apathy, they knew that her beloved spouse was needed to be guarded at all times and that was all they were doing.

Mystic Flour cookie let anyone know who her beloved spouse belongs to.

Hope yall like this! BTW I'm a retired wattpad writer cuz I lost all the motives 1 yr ago but now I think I'm feeling it again 😎

Anyways forgive me for my mistakes if I ever had some while writing this. Have a wonderful day!

[rafes-slut]

request.. reader tells Rafe that barry paid for her new nails and he freaks out in jealousy

New nails

Hope you will like it love x

Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, possessiveness, jealousy, strong language, heated confrontation, implied smut, rough behavior, gaslighting, unhealthy obsession.

You admired your nails, tilting your hands under the light to watch the way the glossy finish shimmered. Barry had done a good job picking out the color—it was perfect. Not too bold, not too plain, just right.

And all you had to do was say thank you.

You weren’t stupid; you knew Barry had an angle. He’d been hovering around you for weeks, waiting for an opening that you wouldn’t give him. But you didn’t stop him from paying for your appointment today. Maybe it was just boredom, maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was the fact that you were sick of Rafe treating you like a possession he refused to claim.

He didn’t want a relationship.

But God forbid anyone else tried to have you.

You had barely been home for two hours before the inevitable happened.

Rafe found out.

And now he was here, banging on your door like a madman.

"Open the damn door!"

You exhaled slowly, rolling your eyes before pushing yourself off the couch. He was relentless, and you knew he wouldn't leave unless he got what he wanted. With a deep breath, you turned the lock and pulled the door open.

Rafe stormed in before you could get a word out, his face twisted in anger. "Barry paid for your nails?"

You crossed your arms. "Nice to see you too, Rafe."

"Don’t do that," he snapped. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, chest rising and falling with labored breaths. "Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m pissed."

You arched a brow, feigning innocence. "I don’t, actually. You don’t want me, remember? So why the fuck do you care who pays for my nails?"

His jaw flexed, and for a second, you swore he looked caught off guard—like he hadn’t expected you to throw his own words back at him. But it was only a flicker before his usual arrogance returned.

"Because you’re not his," he seethed.

You scoffed. "I’m not yours either, Rafe."

The silence that followed was deafening. His eyes darkened, lips parting like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. He just stood there, tension rolling off him in waves.

Then, without warning, he lunged.

Your back hit the wall before you could react, Rafe’s hands braced on either side of your head, caging you in. His breath was warm against your face, his body pressed so close you could feel his heart pounding.

"You wanna push me, huh?" he murmured, voice low and dangerous. "You wanna see how far I’ll go?"

You swallowed hard, but refused to back down. "You already made it clear what you want, Rafe. You don’t get to pick and choose when you care."

His eyes flickered to your nails, and his lips curled in disgust. "What, you think Barry can give you what I can’t?"

You tilted your chin up defiantly. "He treats me better than you do."

Rafe let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You think he’s doing this out of kindness? You think he actually gives a shit? He’s just waiting for a chance to fuck you."

"And what if I let him?" you challenged, your voice dripping with defiance.

Rafe’s hand shot up, fingers tangling in your hair as he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him. "Don’t fucking test me," he warned, his voice a growl. "Because I swear to God, I’ll remind you exactly why you keep coming back to me."

You hated that he was right. Hated that his touch sent a shiver down your spine, hated that despite everything, you still wanted him.

Rafe smirked, like he could see the war raging inside you. "Yeah," he murmured, pressing his lips to your jaw. "That’s what I thought."

You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms. "You’re such an asshole."

He hummed against your skin.

His lips found yours then, possessive and demanding, a silent claim that he refused to put into words. Because Rafe might not have wanted a relationship—

But he’d be damned if he let anyone else have you.

[klausysworld]

hii! could you please do a klaus x stefan x reader smut.

(klaus and reader are in a relationship.) klaus dares her to suck stefan off whilst sat on his lap. Klaus feels her getting wet as she sucks stefan off and says something like “that’s it love, cover my fingers in your cum”

could you also please include degrading pet names and klaus getting possessive like “does he taste as good as I do love?”

then he fucks reader out of jealousy/possessiveness and makes her and stefan hold eye contact.

I totally understand if you’re not comfortable doing this!! thank youu 🤍

Indulgences

I had been with Klaus for a couple of years now. He made me feel safe despite knowing how dangerous he was.

Klaus had his ups and downs of course but who didn't? I still loved him.

Even when he proposed ideas of threesomes sometimes and I'd have to watch as he made love to another woman, although he always insisted it wasn't love making and it never meant anything.

I didn't always like having to share him but it made him happy so I did.

Sometimes I could tell right away when he saw a woman that he'd want us to be with later. He always made sure to pay me attention too during the sessions but it wasn't the same as when it was just us.

Sometimes I would pull away and he'd send the other girl home. He would pull me back to him and kiss my face.

"I'm sorry sweetheart." Klaus would whisper, his fingers in my hair. "It wasn't a good time and I should have recognised that." He would murmur. "I'll make it up to you, my love."

And he always would.

That was his only fault really, that he indulged a little too much. But it could have been a lot worse.

When we got to Mystic Falls I got to stay in my own hotel whilst he did his supernatural business but he made sure to come over in the evenings to have dinner with me and spend some time.

It was hard when he turned into a wolf for a couple days, we hadn't really been apart since we'd gotten together but when he messaged me to come over to an address I knew something was happening.

When I got there I could already tell something was different about him as he wrapped his arms around my hips and pulled me in for a kiss. His eyes were gold when I looked up at them before they faded back to blue. Just after that the sound of heaving pulled my attention to the man on the floor, face dripping with blood.

Klaus pet my back as he kissed my ear. "Stefan's coming with us to find our wolves." He murmured and I nodded.

"Okay." I whispered and nodded and he smiled.

"We'll buy you some new clothes on the way, do you want to go get in the car?" He asked but it was demand disguised.

"Should I sit in the back?" I asked but he shook his head.

"No love, you stay beside me; always." He murmured and kissed my lips firmly before guiding me to the door.

Throughout the trip I was nice to Stefan and in return he was nice to me. Sometimes I would think that if I ever got to choose who we had a threesome with that it would be Stefan.

He was kind of like Klaus; sometimes he looked scary but he had a gentleness to him and he felt safe too. I wondered if he was like Klaus in bed too, if he needed to have threesomes with his girl.

Sometimes I thought about him when Klaus slid between my legs on top of the hotel bed. I wondered if Stefan could hear us through the walls. I wondered what he thought.

I'd look over at him when we were just standing around, waiting for Klaus to come out and sent Stefan in. Stefan would look back at me, smile a little and sometimes if we were stood close enough his hand would touch mine before Klaus could see.

But I didn't not love Klaus. I definitely did.

And I enjoyed being with him, feeling him hold me and touch me. He would ask me what was wrong and he would wake up early to get me some breakfast. Every now and then he would ask if he could drink from me which was something we only really did during passionate sex on special occasions but I think he could sense something off on the trip.

I must've been staring too long, Klaus picked up on it and he had dragged me up the hotel stairs.

"Do you like him, love? You like how Stefan looks?" He sneered, hands gripping my arms as he held me against the wall. "You want to feel him, don't you? Taste him, fuck him." He growled and I looked down, feeling guilty.

His breathing was heavy as a silence hung over us. I sniffed a bit and he sighed, his hold loosening before he caressed my arms and pulled me in for a hug.

"I'm sorry." I whimpered and he nuzzled my hair.

"I can't be angry with you sweetheart. You're perfect for me and you've done this for me so many times." He murmured.

"Done what?" I whispered and he cupped my face, tilting my head up to look at him.

"Indulged." He muttered, eyes dark as he kissed my lips. "I have no doubt Stefan won't be interested sweetheart, I know he looks at you too. I just wasn't sure it was mutual."

"We don't have to." I mumbled and shook my head. "I don't even want to, I don't like sharing." I pulled away and he guided me back to him.

"You don't have to do any sharing this time, my love. I'll learn to share this time." He told me with a kiss to the side of my head and as much as the idea had an appeal, I didn't really want anybody like I wanted Klaus.

"I only like you inside me." I whispered, remembering the only other time we had been with a man instead of a woman and he had had me whilst Klaus watched. It didn't feel right, not like Klaus did.

"Then you can just do as much as you'd like. Maybe you just want a touch or a tase? Allow me to give you this sweetheart. I want this for you." Klaus convinced and I considered it.

We didn't talk about it again, but I'd wondered if Klaus mentioned it to Stefan. The vampire had been eyeing me much more, his touch lingering whenever he got the chance and it was making my body crazy.

When we got to Chicago and Klaus woke up his sister Rebekah, I felt jealous. She and Stefan looked at each other with nothing but desire. I didn't want to share.

So once we got to the hotel and Rebekah went into her room, I went into Stefan's.

He was already grinning when I stepped inside and his hands gripped my waist. "I knew you wouldn't be able to keep ignoring me." He whispered, his forehead against mine.

I was down on the hotel bed in a second and everything felt right, except for one thing. "Klaus." I whined, my body sitting up but Stefan pushed me back down.

"He's on his way." He murmured and kissed my lips, It felt so good. I had to wonder if it felt that good when Klaus got to do that with other girls.

For a brief second, I forgot about Klaus and just focused on Stefan. The coldness of his hands, the taste of his tongue.

But Klaus made sure I wouldn't truly forget him.

I was lifted away from Stefan after a few moments and Klaus's warmth swallowed me.

"Tsk, my love." He scolded but his eyes and tone held no malice as he kissed my cheek. "Shouldn't be starting without me."

"I'm sorry." I mumbled but I wasn't, he had started without me before.

The buttons were picked undone one by one until my body was bare in Klaus's lap. "Look at Stefan, sweetheart." He murmured, his hand turning my head so I was looking at Stefan's naked body. He was leant back against the headboard and pillows, body on display and knowing smile on his face. My eyes drifted down to his cock, hard and waiting for me like Klaus's always was. "Good girl, go ahead." Klaus whispered, hands smoothing my body.

I could feel the nerves building as I crawled forward, Stefan's hands were immediately in my hair and guiding me down. I kissed softly from his base to the tip, listening to his breathing hitch and feeling Klaus grip my hips with tension.

He felt different against my tongue, I traced along the most prominent veins and up to the head, tucking lightly and listening to him groan.

"Mmm, just like that-" Stefan groaned and Klaus chuckled.

"Hear that, love? Stefan loves what a good cocksucker you are." He breathed into my ear and I whimpered with my lips still stretched around Stefan.

My head was pushed and pulled up and down, my throat relaxing to feel every inch of his shaft pump between the muscle. My eyes were half closed, Stefan's groaning face above me now blur.

My mind was a haze as my tongue rubbed at his skin swallowed every hint of a taste of his impending release.

Just as I sucked off the few beads of pre cum form his tip, two fingers slid through my folds making my body arch on instinct.

I went to lift my head, to look but a firm palm pushed me down. "Don't you dare." Klaus's voice growled from behind me. "We both know you want to feel him cum down that pretty throat of yours so keep going." He ordered as fingers pushed inside my cunt making me whimper and squirm in his lap.

I swallowed around Stefan's cock again, trying to reduce the amount I was salivating around him.

Klaus's fingers curled inside me, stroking me from the inside and making me clench around him.

Stefan's hands stroked me head, urging me to keep going.

Everything was so overwhelming, my body was already full of need just from the thought of any of this happening let alone it actually occurring.

They both felt so good, I could taste Stefan ready to cum and feel my cunt in a similar state.

Klaus could feel it too.

"Already about to cum on my fingers, love?" He purred, his lips behind my ear making shivers slip down my spine. "Go on, sweetheart. Show Stefan what a slutty pussy you have. Cum on my fingers." He commanded, his voice low and dark as both fingers moved withs supernatural speed.

My body rocked with his hand as Stefan's taste burst against my tongue and throat and his cry of relief broke through the tension of the air. I could feel myself shaking as I let go around Klaus's hand and swallowed Stefan's cum away, sucking the head for the last bit to come out.

My lips slipped off him, my cheek resting against his bare thigh as I panted and felt Klaus's fingers slowly circle my clit.

Klaus wrapped his arms around my midsection, pulling me back against his clothed chest. "That's my girl." He murmured, kissing my ear softly. "But that's enough. You're mine." He whispered, carrying me out of the hotel room, leaving Stefan a mess and bringing me up to the suite.

I was laid back down on my side, his body holding my down like usual. "I hated every second of that." He muttered, "Feeling how soaked you got from using that tongue on someone else." I whimpered in response and looked up at him as he shoved his belt off and tore the zipper straight off my jeans, letting his cock spring free.

I let out a cry when he pushed inside me in one fast thrust, a groan leaving him. "Klaus-" I gasped and he leant down to swallow my words. Our tongue tangled together before pulled away with a grunt and rocked his hips quickly.

"Tell me I taste better." He growled and I moaned.

"You do..." I whispered and he let out a puff of air.

"Say it."

"You taste better, better than Stefan- ah!" I cried out as he thrust particularly hard.

His hand was around my throat, keeping me down and at his mercy as his body moved in a frenzy against mine

I could feel his lack of control compared to usual, he was angry. It made him faster, his cockhead smacking into my spot repeatedly, so much so that It just felt as if he were rubbing right against it.

My pussy was weeping around him, wetting my thighs and the sheets below as I whimpered and moaned his name weakly.

His body collapsed into mine, his arms clinging to me tight as he nuzzled my throat and sucked a dark mark into the skin. His fangs pierced the skin but it didn't hurt much anymore.

We were rolled so I was on top of him, his cock still half hard and held between my walls.

"I love you." He murmured. "And I love all you do for me." In response I just tucked my head under his chin and let his hands guide my legs either side of his hips. "You're mine." He whispered and I smiled because I knew it.

[sonotpattismith]

as soft as we know

pairing: choso kamo x reader word count: 12.7k (oops) content: fluff, angst, choso experiencing his first christmas, jealousy, insecurity, loss of virginity, choso being a sweetie pie, smut, 18+ a/n: this is a continuation of 'it's britney, bitch', but it can definitely be read independently as well

“That’s not where it goes, Cho.”

“Lower?” 

“A little bit.”

“Here?”

Grunting in frustration, you reached for his wrist, guiding his hand to the proper positioning. 

“These are supposed to be his arms, Cho.” You laughed despite your playful exasperation, helping him carefully shove the small stick he’d found into the snowman’s lumpy torso. 

Stepping back to check your progress, you smiled gleefully and bit back a cackle at the state of it. Its head was far too small for its body, and the rocks you two had found for his eyes were completely different sizes. 

Turning to catch Choso’s reaction to his first snowman, you were almost caught off guard by his stoic expression. His sharp, dagger like gaze could cut straight through glass, pairing terrifyingly with the firm line his lips were set in. One thing you had learned in the few months you’d been with the half-curse though, was that he had the nastiest case of resting bitch face that you’d ever seen on a man. It was no wonder you were so put off by him upon first meeting. Still, you couldn’t help but tilt your head a little to meet his gaze. 

“You okay?” You questioned with a knowing smile. 

Blinking away the snowflakes that had gathered on his dark lashes, his eyes seemed to light up at your question, the abrupt switch in expressions nearly giving you whiplash. 

“Yeah, he looks funny. Why?” Choso grinned sincerely, reaching out to gently brush the snow from your hair. “Was I doing that thing with my face again?” 

“Yeah, you were.” You giggled and reached up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, gripping at his bicep for balance. He hummed appreciatively, a flush quickly coming up to paint his pale cheeks. It was something you were eternally grateful that he hadn’t grown out of since the beginning of your relationship. You were sure if the day ever came that he stopped blushing so furiously at your kisses, your heart would split in two. 

“Does it look how you wanted it to?” He asked as he reached out to straighten the right eye that had slipped a bit. Huffing out a sigh, you sized up the snowman that looked like he had definitely seen better days. 

“He looks… unique.” You offered with a tilted head, trying to see which angle would make it look halfway decent. “But hey, if I can’t decorate a tree, our freak snowman is gonna have to do to get me into the Christmas spirit.”

“Why can’t we decorate a tree?” He questioned with a tilt of his head. From what you had told him, the tree was kind of the main event of this holiday you seemed to be buzzing about. 

“I don’t have time this year.” You muttered dejectedly, distracting yourself by straightening out the drooping arms of your snowman. “I’m supposed to be filling in as supervisor for some of the kids’ missions in the next few weeks.”

Choso hummed pensively, taking note of the gloom that had suddenly befallen your once cheerful mood. In a meek attempt to salvage it, he nodded toward the snowman. 

“Is there anything else we can do to him?”

“Well, I wanted to fix his head, but I think my fingers are gonna freeze off if we don’t stop here.” You confessed sheepishly.

“You’re cold?”

“You’re not?” Your brows rose challengingly, giving him a once over to note that he appeared perfectly comfortable. 

Choso tried to hide his anticipatory smile as he pulled you closer, tugging his gloves off with his teeth to reveal his chipping, black painted nails, courtesy of you, of course. It took almost four weeks of you observing the way he’d watch you so intently as you gave yourself haphazard manicures on the floor of your dorm. You would feel his warm breath over your shoulder as you picked up various bottles to choose your weekly color.

 One evening, you had of course seen it coming a mile away when he apprehensively requested if you could do his, too. You could remember smiling knowingly at him before nudging your chin toward the bottles to prompt him to pick one.

Maybe it was because this grunge side Choso had been ever so slowly leaning into as he came into his own made you swoon just a bit, but you’d be lying if you said your shared, weekly manicures hadn’t become some of your favorite memories with him. 

It was time for a touch up, you determined with a soft smile while he gently gathered your hands to uncover them as well. A slow breath escaped you as his large hands enveloped yours, and you gradually felt a steady warmth begin to fill his palms. Your thus far frigid fingers felt as though they were defrosting in his grip, and you nearly moaned in relief. 

“Is that your technique?” You finally gathered, his supposed immunity to the cold becoming less mysterious. He hummed affirmatively, shifting to place both your hands in one of his as the other came up to cup your rosy, snow-kissed cheek.

Leaning into the heater-like quality of his palm, you peered up at him through your lashes. He became more beautiful each time you looked at him, you were sure. 

The dark circles you once found so intimidating now served as an enticing emphasis for his chocolate, brown eyes. His ever-shifting blood-mark gave a dark edge to his otherwise benevolent nature that never failed to send shivers down your spine. These days, he was wearing his hair loose more and more, and maybe it was because you liked to tangle your fingers in it when he kissed you, but he’d never admit that, of course. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as his thumb maneuvered down to brush heat along your chin, unintentionally snagging on your bottom lip on the way. Everything about him made your mind turn to degenerate mush, and it only seemed to be getting worse the longer you spent with him. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take of the careful tango you two had been spinning in the past few months. 

Choso had been adapting quicker than you had expected to the sorts of little intimacies that came along with being in a romantic relationship. It took some gentle coaching for him to understand what types of those intimacies were appropriate and where. When he was introduced to the notion that your lips were essentially free game for him, you would have thought he’d won the lottery. You by no means minded that his new favorite hobby was discovering all the ways he could leave your lips red and raw, but you preferred he not do it in public.

Still, some neck kisses and love bites seemed to be the extent of Choso’s exploration so far, and you weren’t sure if it was your place to introduce more to him just yet. The man made it hard though when he looked at you with those tired, sultry eyes. Little moments like this, where it was clear how easily tenderness came to him, had your mind wandering around questions of how nice those heated hands of his would feel running up the insides of your thighs.

“I know something that will warm you up faster.” His raspy voice pulled you from your sinful thoughts, the suggestive context making your eyes fly open to meet his loving gaze. The corners of your lips twitched up in anticipation as your breath mingled with his and created ghosts that danced against the contrasting frigid air between you. You tilted your head down to press a soft kiss against his thumb as you raised a questioning brow at him. “Hot chocolate? I found the thick one that Yuji likes.”

Despite the crushing disappointment that you felt in your core, down to the heat between your thighs, you couldn’t help but smile in amusement at his oblivion. Acting on a gnawing urge, you wrapped your arms around his thick torso from under his puffer jacket and squeezed him, a small part of you wishing he’d always stay this adorably oblivious. 

“I’d kill for some, Cho.” You mumbled against his chest, sighing contentedly as his Herculean arms came around your shoulders to squeeze you back. A squeal of delight escaped you when you felt your feet leave the ground, wrapping your legs around his hips so you could climb into a more secure position, arms locked around his shoulders now as he began his trek back to the school with his hands gripping at your thighs.

It was something Choso took notice of very early on, how you’d flush instantly whenever he’d sweep you off your feet. That, and it didn’t hurt that his hands could wander without question when he was carrying you around wherever you went. His curiosity seemed to grow with each passing day, and he was quickly realizing that he was greedy, forever chasing an inexplicable craving he had for you that only drove him crazier the more he fed it. He had a general idea of what his body was asking of him, but the half-curse was still painfully unaware of how to broach the topic, or even what to do. 

So, for now, he’d allow his hands to creep up the expanse of your plush thighs, the ones he could undoubtedly squeeze between his fingers till they fell off. You didn’t stop him as his veiny hands drifted up to cup at the swell of your rear, so he figured it was innocent enough, even if it felt so incredibly far from it. God, how his digits seemed to be lighting ablaze, that insatiable demon in the back of his mind roaring for more as it always did. He wondered if you’d notice, glancing at your contended side profile as he allowed his fingers to squish at those enticing pieces of you that seemed so off limits despite your lack of protest. They were soft, just as he thought they’d be, and maybe if he just snuck a few inches lower he’d be able to see if that heat that seemed to emanate from between your legs was—

“Having fun?” You mused, trying to calm the way your breath wanted to hitch as he drew closer and closer to where you so desperately wished he’d explore, but you were entering the common area now, and you really didn’t want to have to deal with the consequences should someone see his hand on its way to your now throbbing heat. 

In an instant, he halted his exploration, and you chuckled breathily as you watched the blood creep up his neck. 

“Sorry,” he stammered out, guilt beginning to eat at his chest. “I didn’t mean to make—”

“It’s okay, Cho.” You reassured, leaning back to look in his eyes that wanted to focus on anything but you at the moment. Your fingers crept up his nape to twist at the soft tufts of hair there, making him hesitantly peer at you. “You can… touch me wherever you want. Just when it’s us two though, okay?”

The thought had his mind spinning, his heart racing into his throat as he pondered all the possibilities. For now though, you were sliding down his torso, your boots hitting the wood floors with a small thud as you greeted his younger brother who perked up at your mention of hot chocolate. Choso blinked a few times when Yuji asked him if he was okay, and he quickly plastered on a smile, finally lighting up at the thought of spending some time with his two favorite people. 

Though it didn’t happen how you two had expected, the brothers had actually grown closer since the beginning of your relationship. Maybe it was because Choso’s time was actually occupied by something else for a change, and it had finally given Yuji the space he needed to come to his older brother on his own volition. The other theory was tethering on the fact that the pink haired boy and his friends were genuinely baffled that the half-curse had managed to woo you into a relationship, and they were constantly trying to butt in these days to get a sense of how that dynamic even worked. 

Either way, those little moments of Yuji’s incessant nosiness and reaching out to his brother for a change, you felt so lucky to have been able to watch a genuine connection form between the two. 

You smiled warmly as you got the ingredients together, watching as they looked out the window at the snowman you two left behind. The younger boy was using some… colorful terms to describe the unique creation, surely just so he could rile Choso up as he was growing so expert at doing. Rolling your eyes in mock exasperation, you turned to Megumi and Nobara who had been spectating on the sidelines.

“You guys want some too?” You offered, pretending not to notice the way Choso now had his brother in a headlock as he demanded that he apologize for criticizing the snowman you had worked so hard on. Both observers mumbled in agreement, too busy trying to see who would win this one. With a defeated sigh, you began pulling out some mugs. 

“Got enough for one more?” 

The voice almost had you groaning in disappointment, but the last thing you wanted was to cause an unnecessary scene, so you simply clutched at the mug in your hand tightly before offering a tight lipped smile. The smug man leaned on the counter beside you gleamed as his lips twisted into a smirk. 

“Want peppermint in yours?” You offered with as kind a voice you could manage, begrudgingly looking up at Hiroki, with his perfectly punchable face. Since you’d stood him up those months ago upon giving into Choso’s begging, he had been oh so subtly taunting around you. He was smart with it though, never blatant enough for anyone else to notice or even for you to point it out, but you could see it in that sneering glint in his eyes, he was holding it over your head. 

“You trying to tell me I should freshen up for ya’?”

At this, both Nobara and Megumi tore their attention away from the fight to make sure they’d heard that correctly. Even Yuji stopped his attempts to fight his brother off to blink up dumbly at the suggestive comment. You felt the irritation creeping up your neck in the form of flushed skin at the thought of your students having to witness this painfully awkward situation. 

“Dude, are you gonna let him do that in front of you?” The pink-haired boy whispered incredulously at Choso, who was still trying to gather why the energy in the room had changed so abruptly. His brows twitched down in confusion, and he couldn’t understand what was so wrong with the man’s words, but he knew your shoulders were tense and the smile on your face wasn’t a genuine one. Slowly releasing Yuji, he was by your side quicker than you could have processed that the room had grown so silent. 

You felt his hand creep around to rest on your side as he smiled at Hiroki. A ball of guilt twisted in your stomach— you had never told Choso that he was the one you’d stood up all those months ago, and you certainly hadn’t told him about the way he’d been subtly taunting you about it either. 

“Right,” you stammered, hoping desperately to pull it together lest you make the tension obvious to your oblivious boyfriend. “No peppermint then.” 

“Actually, forget about mine— not as enticing when everyone wants it, y’know?” Hiroki shrugged with a poorly hidden smirk as he reached out to brush a stray hair behind your ear. For a second time that day, Choso could feel the energy shift, and he wasn’t sure why the man’s words felt sickening as they settled in the air around him. The hand on your waist tightened, and he pulled you just the few centimeters it took to press you against his side. He was sure if his fingers weren’t pressed to you, they would’ve found their way around this man’s neck. “But let me know when you’ve had your fill, yeah?”

As he walked away, Choso stepped forward, unsure of what he would do but acting on an instinct he had yet to feel throughout his self-exploration as a human. Your hand, still warm from the tight grasp you had on the mug before you, wrapped around his fingers to tug him back. As if coming back down to earth, he blinked a few times, looking back at you with that familiarly terrifying expression— though you were already used to it.

“Are… you okay?” He asked quietly, still unsure of what had transpired and why it seemed to have changed the trajectory of their otherwise pleasant day. 

You nodded, looking away from his concerned gaze to top off his hot chocolate with some marshmallows. As he peered down at the mug now being presented to him, you held your breath. Slowly, he allowed his tired smile to once again replace his frown, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek in thanks. The memory of what had transpired still lingered in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it ruin his day as he began handing the filled mugs out to his brother and his friends. 

You hoped that Choso had forgotten the whole ordeal by that night. The scene kept replaying in your head as the steaming water from your shower ran down your back— how you just stood there and took it as he humiliated you. At the very least, you were grateful that your boyfriend wasn’t too well-versed in deciphering innuendos just yet, but it was clear that he knew something wasn’t quite right. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have pulled him back, let him act on whatever his instincts were clearly telling him to do at that moment. Though Hiroki was a talented enough sorcerer, you were confident in the ways Choso could outmatch him in size as well as combat. It would have been satisfying enough just to see the look on his face as your otherwise docile boyfriend stalked toward him with nothing but human instinct and lean muscle on his side. You smiled at the thought while turning the shower off.

No matter how much he probably deserved the reality check, Hiroki was still technically your coworker. The last thing you wanted was a meeting with the higher ups about how ‘mixing business with pleasure always ended badly’. It gave you a headache just thinking about it. You could be civil, you rationed with yourself as you towel dried. You only wondered if you could say the same for Choso if he ever put two and two together.

Sighing wistfully, you hung up your towel, moving to grab your clothes and get dressed. Blinking a few times in confusion, you took note of the empty counter where you typically left your clothes waiting for you. 

“Shit.” You groaned quietly, your heart picking up a bit at the mental image of your pajamas at the edge of your bed where you’d forgotten them. Chewing at your bottom lip, your eyes drifted to the closed door where you knew Choso was waiting on the other side of. 

You shook your head at your unnecessary nerves. Sure, you two had never… explored each other in such a way yet, but you were both adults. Ripping your towel back off the rack, you wrapped it snuggly around yourself before cracking the door open and peeking out. 

Your boyfriend was lying stomach down on your bed, surely pretending to be sleeping as he had a tendency of doing so you wouldn’t kick him out at the end of the day. Rolling your eyes at his performance, you quietly slipped through the door, hoping he’d keep his eyes closed long enough for you to gather your clothes and run back into the bathroom. 

As you tiptoed to the other side of the bed, you weren’t expecting his eyes to already be open, now staring widely back at you with an unreadable expression. With a small yelp of surprise, you flinched back. It took expert reflexes, but you managed to catch your towel swiftly as it began to slip down your chest. 

Choso would be a stone cold liar if he said he had never imagined what was always hiding beneath the chunky cardigans and oversized sweaters you seemed so fond of. Though he could say with full confidence that he didn’t expect to be so… distracted by it now that it was right in front of him. Well, underneath the towel you were clutching desperately to, but still— it stopped barely midway down your thighs, allowing his eyes to traverse the smooth expanse of your legs and give him just an infuriatingly small taste of the curve of your ass that began just where the fabric ended. 

He felt his fingers twist into the pillow he had clutched underneath his head as his eyes traveled up to your chest, where the swell of your breasts threatened to burst out the top of your towel thanks to the tight grip it now had around your body. They were almost heaving in time with your labored breaths, still glistening from the water of your shower, and god did he want to just lick it off of you. 

“I forgot my clothes.” You stated awkwardly, hoping that he’d either make a move already or just close his eyes. This though— the silent, wide eyed stares that did little to reveal just what was going on in that head of his, the anticipation of what might come— you weren’t sure you could handle it anymore. 

Choso licked his lips, finally blinking for the first time in what seemed to you like hours, before slowly sitting up at the edge of the bed. Tearing his gaze from you, his eyes landed on the neatly folded clothes beside him. It felt as though there was lead in his arms as he carefully picked them up. Instead of handing them to you as you thought he would though, they instead hovered over his lap as he continued to stare down at them in uncertainty. 

“Cho—” You began, but he finally looked up at you.

“Can I kiss you?” He requested, fisting at your clothes while his eyes gave your body another once over before meeting yours again. “Just like this?”

A shiver ran down your spine at the way his ominous eyes seemed to drink you in. Releasing a shaky breath, you took a tentative step toward him, now standing directly between his muscular legs. In an instant, he was dropping your clothes to the ground, head tilting back to watch what you’d do next. 

With your fist tightening around your towel, you carefully raised your knee to rest it beside his hip before doing the same with the other until you hovered over his lap. His glistening, pink lips parted, and you swore you heard the tiniest of moans slip past them as his hands quickly found the small of your back to pull you into a snug straddle on his lap. One of his hands remained firmly on your back as the other crept up to softly grasp your jaw as he finally kissed you. 

That long since dreamt about, golden spot between your legs was pressed right against him now, and, even with the god-forsaken barrier of his pants, he could feel its heat right on his groin. Choso whined into your mouth, the fresh scent of your body wash only adding to the circus of sensations that were overriding his system. 

The hand on your jaw drifted down your damp neck, testing its luck as it grazed over the mound of your breast still covered by the towel. You arched against his tentative touch, and he wondered if you’d think he was completely depraved if he asked you to take the damned thing off. If only he knew you were only keeping the useless fabric on for the sake of him setting his own pace. 

Despite this, you couldn’t help yourself as you allowed your hands to dance down his torso and creep under the hem of his crewneck. Your fingers greedily explored his chiseled physique, the sensation of his abs jolting against your touch making you press yourself into the steadily growing tent in his pants. Choso gasped greedily at the feeling, quickly pulling away from you to yank his shirt over his head once your hands reached his shoulders. 

Had you been given the chance, you were sure you could have spent hours staring at each rippling muscle of his abdomen, the way even his shoulders looked so deliciously defined— you wanted to just lean forward and take a bite of him. So, you did, hands gripping at his bulging biceps for balance as you sunk your teeth into his firm trap. His jaw dropped open involuntarily, and it was now his turn to drive his solid bulge into your center. You moaned softly around his muscle, releasing it in favor of wet kisses to soothe the now irritated area.

Choso wanted so desperately to chase that sultry sound that had just swam into his ears. He gripped at the nape of your neck to pull you back, panting softly as he stared into your blown-out eyes.

“Did… did that feel good?” He asked, hoping to any god that would listen to him that he wasn’t all alone with these confusingly craven feelings. 

“Yeah,” You quickly rasped out, placing a hand on his shoulder to push him back against the mattress. His hand hesitantly found your thigh, running his palm up the smooth flesh until his fingers met the hem of your towel. Leaning forward, you rolled your hips against his, delighting in the way his face scrunched up so gorgeously when he moaned. “Everything you do feels good to me, Cho.”

The fingers against your thigh squeezed at the fat there as his free hand reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear in hopes of getting a better look at you. Despite his mind being on a completely different astral realm at the moment, this movement struck a memory he desperately wanted to forget about right now. 

Shaking his head subtly, he pushed it to the back of his mind and allowed his hand to creep under your towel as you leaned down to kiss him once again. Your skin was still warm from your shower, and his fingers were a mere inches away from your bare ass, and god why the fuck can’t he stop thinking about Hiroki and his grimy hands in your hair?

You pulled back a bit upon noticing the falter in his movements. 

“You okay, Cho? You wanna stop?”

“No!” He insisted eagerly, cursing himself for ruining the moment. An amused smile played at your lips, and you leaned down to begin pressing wet kisses against his jaw. His dark eyes stared up at the ceiling, the same words replaying in his mind until he couldn’t take it anymore. In one swift moment, he sat up, hands gripped at your back so you didn’t fall off his lap as you yelped in surprise. “I just…”

The way your fingers were now tracing feather-light touches up the nape of his neck was making it hard for him to concentrate. Still, when he looked at you he could only see that unexplainably tense expression you’d given just a few hours ago. Whatever chills the sensation of your bare thighs pressed against the skin of his waist were producing though were wildly outnumbered by that gnawing feeling of dread growing steadily in his stomach. 

“What did he mean?” Choso’s question came out firmly despite his apprehensive gaze. You tilted your head in question, but he quickly clarified upon seeing your confusion. “Hiroki.” 

You didn’t say anything for a moment, but your knowing expression still made his stomach churn. 

“Is that really what you’re thinking about right now, Cho?” You tried to smile easily at him, leaning forward to press another chaste kiss to his pouted lips, to which he returned quickly. 

“Something is going on.” He pulled away just enough to mumble against your lips. With his forehead pressed against yours, you could feel the way his brows furrowed at the thought of being left out of something seemingly significant. You sighed, your warm breaths mingling in the minuscule space between you. 

“Remember when I was gonna go on that date? You know, before we got together.” You began as you pulled away to sit back on his thighs. After a short moment of thought, he nodded. The slow unfurrowing of his brows told you he was already placing the pieces together though. “It was supposed to be with him, and… I guess he’s just still upset about how I went about it, is all.” 

“So, when he said to let him know when you got your fill—”

“Choso, don’t think—”

“He meant of me.” 

The mark against his nose twitched as his face heated, but for the first time, you weren’t sure if it was born from embarrassment or rage. You tried to gage the far off look in his eyes but were coming up short. A shiver shot down your spine when he looked at you once again, his dark eyes sharp as daggers. 

“He talked about you like you were food.” He spat, the rest of the odd conversation finally clicking in his mind. The fingers against your back dug into your towel before he carefully maneuvered you to the spot beside him. You quickly sat up when he snatched his crewneck from the end of the bed. Grabbing blindly at your sweatpants, you shoved them on under your towel. 

“What are you doing?” You questioned cautiously, gripping at the other end of his sweater to stop him. 

“I’m going to talk to him.” But the enraged glint in his eyes told you he had more detailed plans than he was letting on. 

“No, you’re not.” You insisted, tugging on his arm. 

“This isn’t the first time he’s talked to you like this, is it?” He assumed, searching your face as if daring you to lie. “I don’t like this. I’m going to say something.” 

“Choso, I’m asking you to please let it go.” You pleaded as you tugged him down to sit beside you. “If you make a scene, I’m going to be the one who will have to clean it up later. Please, I’m a big girl— you don’t need to defend me.”

His shoulders slowly deflated while taking in the desperation in your eyes. He could feel his resolve slipping from right underneath him. 

“Will it really upset you?” 

“It really will.” 

The man’s sigh morphed into a quiet groan that you wouldn’t have noticed had you not been so close to him at the moment. His shadowy eyes, still swimming with that unmistakable vexation, watched as the frigid air finally caught up to you, and a subtle tremble shook your frame. Pursing his pouted lips, he slipped his forgotten crewneck over your head before pulling the damp towel off of you. 

“Are you gonna kick me out now?” He muttered, widening his eyes in the matter he knew you always seemed to melt for. As you had already come to recognize— Choso catches on fast.

“You can stay as long as you do that heater thing with your hands again.” You compromised with a grin, watching as he wasted no time pulling the covers over the two of you. Scooting closer to you, both his hands came up to cup your face, and you soon melted into the warmth that flooded them. Humming contentedly, you reached up to hold onto his wrist as you allowed your eyes to drift shut. 

He studied you as you relaxed against him, the fat of your cheeks squished against his hands, and he felt his heart accelerate. It had been a few months now since he began learning of this side of humanity— learning about you. No matter how much he seemed to squeeze at you when he had the privilege of being beside you, or how ever long he’d spend memorizing the divots and marks on your face, nothing Choso did ever stopped the longing he felt for you when you parted. A soft call of your name had you humming in question, too comfortable to bother opening your eyes. 

“Do you think you’ll ever… get your fill of me?” 

At his apprehensive question, you sighed wistfully, blindly trailing your hand up until it tangled into his hair. 

“I could never get enough of you, Cho. I— ” I love you. The words died in your throat. Cracking your eyes open, you found that he was already peering back at you, patiently awaiting the rest of your sentence. Was he ready for that? Were you ready for that? Even so, you questioned if he would really understand the depths of your words enough to reciprocate them genuinely. Twisting your fingers into the hair on his nape, you tugged at it gently, the way he always shivered over. “I think you’re my favorite guy.” 

The way he smiled warmly at you, eyes glistening as he started from scratch once again making sure he had every part of you committed to memory, told you that your meaning got across anyway. One of his hands creeped around to the back of your head to pull you against his bare chest, slotting his leg between yours in hopes of enveloping you completely. 

“You’re my favorite girl.” 

As the two of you went about your week, you prayed that your intimate reassurance would be enough for Choso. Though you could hardly blame him for getting so upset, you wouldn’t change your stance on him letting this one go. And, truthfully, he had all but forgotten it that next morning when he woke up beside you. The only thing still fresh in his mind was your sweet promise, the reassurance that, of all the men that had waltzed into your life, he had somehow managed to find himself at the top of your list. 

This haze-like bliss only lasted so long though, and he was rudely reminded of the need for that conversation in the first place when he saw Hiroki again. The man wasn’t even doing anything wrong, simply talking to one of the supervisors about his next assignment, but everything about him made Choso’s blood boil. 

You had agreed to go on a date with him once, so that must mean at some point in time, in some shape or form, you had been interested in him, too. It was selfish, childish even, but to hell if he didn’t feel like a petulant toddler at the very thought of it. Tearing his eyes away from the man, he continued to remind himself of your request. 

“You gonna show this dude up or what?” Nobara suddenly questioned with a quirk of her perfectly defined brow. Luckily, your fondness of the half-curse helped Yuji’s friends warm up to him more, though they still had difficulty relating to his strange demeanor half the time. 

Choso grumbled under his breath, continuing to collect the materials they needed for their sparring today. A part of him wanted to yell that he was trying to, but he thought it best to keep the kids out of his relationship with their sensei. 

“Yeah, bro, I can’t believe you didn’t kick his ass the other day.” Yuji guffawed with a shake of his head. 

“It’s not worth the trouble.” He responded simply, hoping that they’d change the subject so he could think of anything else. 

“Like hell it is!” The redhead scoffed, piling the targets she was holding into Megumi’s arms so she could pop her hip at the man before her. “You’re underestimating how much girls like a man that fights for them.”

This made Choso’s movements falter for a moment. Should he really be taking romantic advice from teenagers? Yuji circled around him as he continued driving home their point. 

“Yeah, you’re basically giving this dude free reign to flirt with your girl when you just stand there and let it happen.” 

“That’s not what I’m doing.” The half-curse finally defended, his mind reeling with the mixed information he was receiving.

“Then do something about it!” Kugisaki shouted in exasperation as the trio followed him outside. “You want her to feel unappreciated? Get bored of you?”

Her words hit him like a ton of bricks, the memory of Hiroki’s taunting playing like a sick melody in the back of his head. Perhaps if he had been in a different state of mind, not already plagued with insecurities of which he’d never had to worry about before, he would have been able to recognize that the teenagers probably didn’t know best. But it wasn’t different though, and insecurity and jealousy were rearing their ugly heads at him in a first time’s greeting. 

Choso was far too consumed in these new, vile emotions to not allow these kids’ words to seep into his veins. So, when Hiroki passed by him with that nasty smirk on his smug face as the student’s were sparring, purposefully shouldering at the half-curse’s already tensed arm, rational thought was out the window. His hand quickly wrapped around the man’s wrist before he could leave. Taking a calculated breath, he thought that maybe talking wouldn’t be so bad. 

“What’s your pro—”

“I know what you’re doing, and I’m asking you to stop.” Choso explained levelly, his grip unintentionally tightening around his wrist as Hiroki raised an amused brow at him. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”

“Easy man, c’mon.” There was the smallest trace of unease in the man’s falsely nonchalant voice. He tugged at his arm in an attempt to free it, but there wasn’t a chance in hell that was happening before he agreed to the request being laid before him. “I haven’t done anything to her.”

“I know you think I’m stupid, but I’m not.” Choso seethed, and perhaps that insecurity was doing the speaking for him, because he just knew how he appeared to everyone else. Despite his age, he was less experienced, less assimilated to the world around him, and though he tried, he wasn’t sure he’d ever catch up. Still, he wasn’t a child, and the last thing he wanted was for you to ever think of him as someone who couldn’t be there for you because of his inexperience with humanity. “And she might be worried about making a mess, but I’m not.”

He wasn’t sure what was coming over him, but it felt as though he might implode without the opportunity to prove himself to this scum who at one point had a shot with you— who was fucking with you right under his nose. Hiroki scoffed “There’s no need for all that. We’re friends right?” Using his free hand, he patted Choso’s shoulder with an attempted brotherly bonding gesture before leaning into his ear. “No bitch worth getting a black eye for, right?”

He wasn’t sure what caught the trio’s attention away from their sparring first— the instantaneous morphing of his blood mark as it traversed the length of his vexed face in tandem with his last resolve of patience snapping, or the literal snapping of Hiroki’s wrist under his crushing grip. 

“Call her by her name.” His heated demand somehow made it out over the pained yells of the man crumpling to his knees before him. 

“I—”

“Actually,” Choso’s indignation wouldn’t let him just shut the fuck up and let it go. The feeling of bones crunching under his grip didn’t quell his anger— it made it worse. He was boiling over, bursting at the seams in search of relief that was nowhere in sight. “Don’t speak to her again— don’t speak about her again.” 

He thought it would help, give him a sense of accomplishment that he’d protected you from the disrespect of the lesser than individuals you were forced to call coworkers. What he didn’t understand though, was the fact that he was protecting himself. This man could come and make you think lesser of him, and how could he not do anything to stop it? Though he’d had time for his confidence in areas such as combat and technique to flourish over the years, Choso still held the vulnerability of a man decades younger than his body revealed. 

Despite his own justification, nothing would do away with the precipicing guilt setting his guts ablaze with discomfort. It couldn’t be explained— Hiroki deserved it, he deserved the humiliation of having to wake in the morning with the knowledge that everyone saw him brought to his knees so easily. So, why was the half-curse’s mind reeling with dramatized scenarios of how he might explain himself to you when the news undoubtedly found your ears? No matter the myriad of alternate endings he’d concocted though, nothing could have truly prepared him for the betrayal in your eyes as you burst into his space that night. 

Choso stood from the edge of his bed with a haste, as if trying to shroud the fact that he’d been staring at the door with an inexplicable immobility for what seemed like hours. His eyes fluttered as the heavy door fell back against its frame with a thud. Your lips parted, almost as though you had your monologue pre-planned from the moment you began your enraged trek toward his living space, but they shut with a click of your teeth as your face scrunched in frustration. 

His feet were planted firmly into the wooden floors beneath him, preparing himself for the calculated rage that was surely building within that heavenly frame of yours. What came though was worse, because your words were quiet and your eyes lost that flare of outrage that they held when you first entered, replaced by a hoaxed glimmer that made your irises gloss over heartbreakingly. 

“I asked you not to, Choso.” Your cheeks were still ablaze with an unfamiliar rouge, and he wasn’t sure if it was the bitterness of the cold nipping at your skin or an internal ticking clock. 

“How could I have ignored it?” He tried, but you were shaking your head before the last syllables spilled from his lips. 

“Because I asked you not to.” You ground out once again, that rage making a sudden resurgence as you took an indignant step toward him. “Do you know how humiliated I was?”

“You didn’t hear what he said about—”

“I don’t care what he said!” You gasped in exasperation, a smile of disbelief gracing your face before it fell back into that painful scrunch that made his soul cry out. “I don’t care about him. I care about you, I care about my job, my reputation, Choso!” 

The man fell silent before you, his face beginning to sting from the blood rushing to his mortified cheeks. He could only stare down at you with that familiar pout as you crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head. 

“I had to hear about how I was the cause of some pissing match today that put one of our sorcerers on leave.” You began pacing the room in your incensed explanation. Choso wanted to ask you what that meant, as he always felt so comfortable doing with you, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth. “Which, by the way, I am now having to help out on missions during said leave, just to put a cherry on top of this shit cake.” 

“I-I’m sorry, I—”

“No you’re not, you’re sorry because I’m having to clean it up like I told you I would.” You knew you might have been laying it on a little thick, but logic was racing from you in the midst of your humiliation. 

“You’re right, I’m not sorry.” He stated affirmatively, as if just now coming to this realization himself. Your brows shot into your hairline. “And you can’t expect me to be, it’s not fair. I can’t, I don’t know—”

“Yes, you can.”

“I don’t know how.”

“I’ve seen you learn to do things a hell of a lot harder than controlling your anger, Choso.”

“No— I don’t know how to not feel like I’m not good enough for you.” He finally confessed, face ablaze with a shameful tint of red. Your arms gradually fell from their defensive position, hovering at your sides with the weight of a thousand bricks as you watched the dampness gather in his waterline. “I-I’m sorry I made things hard for you, but I don’t know what to do with these feelings. You might have had time to figure it out, but this is my first time, okay?”

“Choso—” You breathed softly, reaching out for him when he turned from you to bury the heels of his hands into his leaking eyes.

“I’m sorry if I messed up. I just don’t know, I don’t—” His trembling ramble was cut short when you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his back. “Sometimes I don’t understand when someone is making fun of me right to my face, but I didn’t care until they started doing it to you, and I was…” You felt him take a shuddering breath. “I was too clueless to be there for you, or to defend you, or—”

“Cho, please look at me.” You pleaded gently. With an anxious air that was just so like him, he slowly shifted in your loosening grasp until you were looking right up at his blushing, tear stained cheeks. “I’m sorry I got mad at you. I didn’t know you were feeling like this.”

His somber eyes drifted to the side as if unable to look at you as he carefully sank onto the floor. You placed a hand on his shoulder while you lowered your beside him, watching carefully as he shoved his head into his hands.

“You shouldn’t be apologizing to me. I’m the one that messed up.” He corrected affirmatively. After a moment though, he peeked up at you with a hesitant purse of his lips. “Well, I didn’t mess up when I broke his wrist. I’d do it to his other hand too if I had the chance.”

Despite the mess his aforementioned actions had spilled upon you, you couldn’t help but laugh softly with an incredulous shake of your head. 

“Can I be honest?” You questioned, nudging against his arm with your shoulder, and he nodded with a quick sniffle. “I’m almost more upset that I didn’t get to see it.”

This helped ease some of the palpable tension in his shoulders, knowing that if you were still able to laugh with him that he hadn’t entirely fucked everything up. A shy smile spread shakily across his wet lips. Leaning forward, you brushed a featherlight touch against his cheek.

“Sometimes I feel things so deeply, and I don’t know where to put it all.” His attempted explanation made your heart warm. “I don’t know how to make sense of them, and I don’t know if I’m the only one feeling them.”

“Give them to me then.” You insisted, shifting to sit on your knees in front of him. “I’ll help you. I always have, remember? You have to talk to me though.”

Give them to you? There was a point so early on in your relationship when he was willing to do so without question, eager to learn whatever wisdom your advantage on humanity could give him. You always seemed to have the right answer— the ones that made it all click into place. Choso was learning though that as your relationship blossomed, as did the complexity of all those human emotions— as did the intensity of them. How far could he push before the impending possibility came to fruition that he was alone in these alien feelings? 

“I thought if he kept talking about me that… eventually you’d believe him.” 

You maneuvered closer to him until his hands found your waist, inviting you to sit on his lap. Running your hands up the sides of his neck, he closed his eyes as your fingers slipped into his hair. 

“Did you think any less of me because of what he said?” You asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. His eyes quickly cracked open, and he stared back at you as if offended that you’d ask such a thing of him. 

“No, I would never—”

“Then how could you believe I’d ever think less of you?” 

Silence hung between you, weighing you down on his lap as he stared back at you. Your words made him feel guilty— as though he had betrayed you by thinking so lowly of your devotion to him. His eyes drifted down your face, lips parting with an unspoken apology lingering between the minuscule space separating your mouth from his. 

“I… I have something for you.” 

His words were familiar, making your lips curl up at the memory of the day he’d confessed his feelings for you. Tilting your head, you squinted your eyes teasingly. 

“Is it another car?” You quipped, almost breaking your resolve as you watched his face fall, eyes drifting to the side in doubt before meeting yours once again.

“Do you want another car?”

God, how could you ever stay mad at him?

You clung onto Choso’s shoulders as he piggybacked you back to your dorm, purposefully jostling you here and there just to hear your harmonious giggles. Though you told him you could walk just fine on your own, he insisted on taking you himself— not that you fought him terribly hard on it either. In fact, you found it endearing how much he delighted in carrying you around, though you weren’t sure if it was due to his own enjoyment or the knowledge that you simply melted each time for it. 

“Close your eyes.” Choso scolded as he looked back at your curious gaze once he’d reached your door. Huffing in frustration, you allowed your eyes to shut, your head falling against his shoulder in defeat. You heard him rustiling with the spare key you’d given him— not that he had ever managed the tenacity to invite himself in without your prior invitation. Each time, you’d shake your head in amusement at the sound of his gentle raps against your door, and each time you’d remind him that he had his own key. 

The lingering smell of your festive candle flooded your nose as he stepped into the room, making you sigh contendedly. He crouched down until you felt your bum hit the soft comforter of your bed, and he carefully released you. 

“Don’t look yet.” He commanded clemently as you bounced back gently against your mattress. 

“Not peeking.” You assured with a smile, anticipation tickling up your toes and into your legs as he leaned down to press a swift kiss against your forehead. Upon feeling him pull away, your chest caved a bit in disappointment, your thoughts already having wandered far from whatever likely innocent surprise he had awaiting you. 

There was a subtle rustling on the other end of the room before a soft click had your curiosity reeling. 

“Um— okay, you can look now.” 

Squinting your eyes open, you were met with a myriad of gently twinkling lights. Blinking a few times to focus your vision on the sudden onslaught of brightness, an abrupt gasp escaped you at the sight of the lit up Christmas tree in the corner of your space. The ornament adorning it were a mess of contrasting colors, some too close together while there were various bare spots on the tree. Most of the decorations, you noted with a suppressed giggle, were focused on the upper half of the tree while it remained awkwardly vacant toward the bottom. It was a bit crooked, leaning marginally toward the right in its stand. It was far from the meticulously coordinated trees you had grown so accustomed to setting up, but it was perfect to you nonetheless. 

“Do you like it?” Choso questioned anxiously, smiling apprehensively at his first attempted Christmas tree. With his shadowy eyes fluttering from his handiwork to your awe-struck face, he tilted his head. “I can change it if you don’t like it.” 

“When did you do this, Cho?” You breathed out incredulously, feeling the salty dampness already gathering pathetically in your waterline. Sliding off the bed, you took a few, slow steps toward the tree. 

“Oh— I… I came this morning after you left for class.” He explained with downcast eyes. “I’m sorry for coming in without— hmph!”

His practically instinctual apologies were cut short as you tossed yourself onto his chest, arms wrapping snuggly around his neck. Without question, he was trailing his needy hands up your back to press you closer to him, dipping his nose into your nape with that love-sick smile of his.

“This is alot better than a car.” You attempted a joke through your onslaught of emotions, but the slight tremble in your voice was betraying you. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“You said Christmas gifts have to go under a tree.” Your boyfriend said obviously, and you followed his gaze to the choppily wrapped present sitting under said tree. Biting down your grin, you peered back up at him with a raised brow. 

“And would that be for me too, babe?” You teased, revelling in the sheepish smile that softened his intimidatingly sharp features as he nodded. “Well what do you want for Christmas, Cho?”

The sun was steadily setting outside your window, causing the soft glow of the string lights to warm your sparkling eyes as they stared up at him in question. The warmth in his flushed cheeks seemed to drain from his face, settling like stones at the pit of his stomach. Gulping at the lump in his throat, he shook his head softly at your question. 

“I don’t think I should answer that.” He sighed out honestly, lips twitching nervously under your questioning gaze. 

“What do you mean?”

The tilt of your head made your luscious hair sway just so, the ends brushing teasingly against his arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake. Had you focused enough, you would have felt the way his heart was beating out of his firm chest, making his breathing labor. 

Give them to me. Your words rang in the back of his muddled mind. That overwhelming sense of uncertainty and confusion flooded him once again, and though you had specifically told him you’d walk him through anything, this just seemed too daunting a confession. 

“It’s not—” His tongue darted out to lick his drying lips, and your wanton eyes followed the movement with a sharp precision. “I don’t think it’s… appropriate.”

Your brows rose marginally at his claim, the realization flooding you with the unconscious squeeze of his hands on your waist. A deep, calculated breath had your chest rising to brush against his, and you felt him shudder at the proximity. 

“It’s… just us here.” You offered quietly, hoping your silent invitation was enough for him to burst out of the anxious shell he’d been hiding behind all these months. He furrowed his brows in contemplation at your words, weighing whether the fruits of his vulnerability would outweigh the humiliation of possible rejection. Biding his time, he leaned down to press a longing kiss against your awaiting lips, the little remaining blood that was keeping his mind functioning properly rushing down south. 

“Just us?” He repeated breathlessly against your lips as he tried to make sense of the new territory he was daring to traverse. 

You nodded urgently, reaching up on your tiptoes to chase his panting mouth. Choso’s hands traveled down your waist to hook under your bum, hoisting you up around his hips as he carefully sunk to his knees. The soft whimpers escaping him were driving you into a nonsensical stupor despite his attempts to swallow them down. 

Shifting your hips forward, you urged him to fall back against his hands, his long fingers digging into the plush rug beneath him. You took advantage of the exposed expanse of his heaving chest, running your hands down his pecks until your fingers were dancing across the ripples of his abs as you bit at his lips. His response to your explorative touch was almost instantaneous, raising his hips in a desperate hope that your hands would slip just a few inches lower. 

All his not-so-subtle thrust did though was drive his painfully constricted length right against your inner thigh, the friction nearly causing his arms to buckle underneath of him. You had never mentioned it before— all the times his cock would press against you in such an embarrassingly obvious fashion. It never took much at all, and Choso wasn’t sure if your nonchalance at the feeling was because it was normal, or if you were simply saving face for him as you so endearingly did more often than not. 

Whichever it was though, he couldn’t take it anymore, not when you were dragging your hips against him as though you knew much more about his affliction than you dared to let on. The moan that left him almost teetered on the edge of a cry, and he brought a hand up to push against the subtle arch in your back, pressing you firmly against where he needed you the most. 

Your warm breath shuddered against his swollen lips as you moaned. The hands you had on his abdomen clutched desperately at his shirt, fighting for your composure because you could feel every inch of him straining right against your core, and his sweatpants were doing little to leave anything to the imagination. Pulling away from you in a frenzy, his eyes remained squeezed shut as his fingers dug into the fabric of your sweater. 

“Help me.” He pleaded, opening his eyes hesitantly to catch your reaction with burning cheeks. 

“He-Help you?” You repeated unassuredly, and he nodded quickly as your face flushed with the implications of his request. 

The hand on your back snaked around to tangle in with your own fingers, tentatively maneuvering your hand down his naval. His breath hitched as he guided you over his waistband, and he peered up at you timidly. A damp warmth spread along the lining of your panties at the raw vulnerability of his movements. When you made no indication of protest, his fingers danced up to grip gently at your wrist before you finally took the initiative to finish his clearly set out path, wrapping your hand around the prominent length poking through the outline of his bottoms. 

“Please.” Choso gasped out, bucking up into your warm hand. A blissed out hum reverberated in his chest, and he leaned forward to press his forehead against yours. “This is all I want. You’re all I want.”

Your thusfar gentle grip on his cock tightened ever so slightly at his tender words, and it was almost instinctual when you palmed him purposefully, squeezing carefully toward his tip in a manner that had him reduced to puddy beneath you. Fighting through your lustful haze, you nodded deliriously at his request, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“Choso,” It was clear that you were trying so very hard to steady your voice, and your careful tone flooded into his consciousness. His darkly-lined eyes were half-lidded as they regarded you in question. “Have you… ever touched yourself?”

This made his gaze widen just a hair, the mark across his nose twitching in a tell-tale sign of his embarrassment. Though it seemed impossible, his face seemed to flush that much brighter as he opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to gather his composure before he answered you. A shaky huff escaped him as he cast his gaze to the side, and your free hand reached up to brush the hair from his face. 

“It’s okay, it’s normal. I just want to understand how much you know.” You explained gently. At this, his lashes shifted as he hesitantly looked back up at you before offering a nod so subtle you almost missed it. 

His mind was reeling with memories of all the mornings he’d spent with his hand shoved haphazardly down his pants, dreams of you having roused him from his sleep and lingering without any hope of solace. He thought about how dirty he’d felt when facing you afterwards, ignorant to the fact that he’d spilled himself onto his own mattress with fantasies that one day it’d be you. After so long of feeling isolated and depraved in these unfamiliar cravings, you were right here above him, your hand stroking up his cock in an all too familiar motion, telling him he was normal.

You nodded slowly at his confirmation, releasing your grip on him to trail your fingers along the sliver of skin exposed between where his shirt had ridden up and his waistband. His large frame trembled at the miniscule touch, hips rising in anticipation of your next move. The sudden shift dragged his length right against your pulsing clit, and you could barely disguise your breathy moan as you leaned into the friction. 

The wheels were turning in his head as he absorbed your reaction, his curious eyes locked onto where you two were connected. He tentatively raised a hand and settled it testingly just below your belly button before peering up at you.

“Can I… touch you too?” 

You hummed affirmatively, quickly maneuvering back as Choso leaned forward purposefully to lay you against the pillowy rug just beside the Christmas tree. He hovered on his knees between your spread legs, eyes drifting all over as if he didn’t know where to start. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hands began their wavering trek up the sides of your thighs. Feeling him pause at your waistband, you cracked your eyes open.

“You can take them off.” You offered, watching the way his eyes lit up. “—if you want.”

If he wanted. The man could have laughed in your face, because he’d be damned if he wanted anything more right now. 

Hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, you assisted him by lifting your hips while he tugged them down. In his desperate pursuit, the laced hem of your panties were partially yanked down, leaving them bunched and just barely covering your intimates. He was leaning down, eyes locked on your center as though it might disappear if he blinked too long. His intense gaze made you flush, and you weren’t expecting it when he pushed the nearly translucent fabric to the side, the sudden gust of cool air against your wetness making you shiver.

Choso hummed, but you could swear it morphed into a soft groan as he decided that this view just wouldn’t do before sliding your panties off as well. The sight of your plush folds glistening under the twinkling Christmas lights was causing a sheen sweat to break out across his neck, and he pulled uncomfortably at the fabric of his shirt. 

“Take it off, Cho.” You pleaded, desperate to not be the only one so exposed. 

There was no need to tell him a second time, and his shirt was quickly joined with your discarded bottoms. Moved by the wanton way your eyes seemed to drink him in, he found himself crawling up over you to kiss you once again. Your hands wrapped greedily around his broad shoulders, nails working their way across his taut skin. He gasped against you as your hips rolled up in desperate search of friction, your wet warmth grazing against his covered thigh. 

“How? Show me how to touch you.” He rasped out, trembling hands already dancing down your naval as he propped himself up with his free arm. Much like he’d done just moments prior, you laced your finger through his, guiding them through your folds. 

“Here.” You gasped as his warm fingers grazed your clit. Choso’s face crumpled at the feeling, mouth falling open in a silent moan. You pressed down on his middle and ring finger with your own, encouraging the soft circular motions around your swollen bud. The back of your head hit the rug as you arched into his touch, slowly removing your guiding hand once the motion had grown familiar to him. 

“Am I doing it right?” His question came out practically a whisper as he watched you writhe against his hand. The strain in his pants was becoming painful at this point, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop the sensual circles that were sending you into such a whimpering frenzy, by his hand nonetheless. 

“Mhmm,” You hummed, one hand drifting up to grip at his bicep as the other trailed under your sweater, lifting it up in search of relief from the sudden sweltering heat Choso seemed to emanate. “You’re doing so good for me, Cho.” 

A groan worked its way up his throat at your praise, and his hips lurched forward in search of the pathetic friction your leg could provide him. His desperation was sending sparks up your thighs, making his slippery massaging feel that much more heavenly as you felt the familiar coil tightening in your stomach. 

Your jaw popped open, the hand that had found its way under your sweater clutching at your breast as if it could ground you. Choso’s eyes followed the movement hungrily. The swell of your breasts were just barely peeking out from the hem of your top, but it was enough to drive him into a frenzy if he couldn’t see what it was hiding immediately. 

“Take it off.” He commanded with a wavering resolve, his fingers increasing their pressure against you in anticipation. 

Had your teetering release not been solely in his hands at the moment, you would have teased him for his sudden burst of assertive confidence, but you thought you might begin kicking and screaming if anything deterred his rhythmic motions right now. Crossing your arms over your chest to grasp at the bottom of the offending sweater, you messily ripped it over your head before settling back against the rug that was now warm from your imprint. 

Your breasts bounced with your abrupt motions, and Choso felt the saliva gather embarrassingly on his tongue. It was far too clouded in your mind for you to notice though, your breaths beginning to come out in short pants as your peak drew nearer and nearer. 

“Please, please, please.” You babbled nonsensically, gripping at his forearm as your hips began grinding against his fingers. And, god, he wasn’t sure what you were begging for, but he knew he’d lay down his life right here and now if it meant he could deliver it to you on a silver dish, because he knew for certain that he’d never had the privilege of laying his eyes on anything nearly as debauchedly stunning as your naked body submitted so vulnerably beneath him. 

“Anything, I’ll give you anything.” He rationed through lustfully slurred words. Dipping down, he pressed drooling kisses against your heaving breasts, succumbing to a primal desire as he sunk his teeth into one of them.

“Cho—” Your choked plea pitched until it fell silent all together. 

Shifting his weight from his propped arm to his knees, he used his now free hand to press down against your hip as your thighs began trembling with the force of your climax. A warming flush spread from your scalp down your spine, sending tingles of relief down each of your nerves until you slumped back against the ground. 

“Ah— ah!” You stammered out as your boyfriend continued his purposeful ministrations against your now overly-sensitive bundle of nerves. Slamming your thighs shut against his wrist, you attempted to shimmy away from his relentless fingers. “Too much, Cho, it’s too much!”

His lips popped off your breast to pout wetly at you, the hand on your waist pulling you back down toward him as his fingers finally paused their assault on your center. Loosening the squeeze your thighs had trapped him in, he ran his hand up your stomach and chest before grasping the side of your neck. 

Upon closer inspection, you noticed the dampness that clung to his lashes and the way his brows were drawn softly together as he looked down at you hazily. 

“Choso? Are you—”

“I love you.”

Despite having been spread open before him just seconds ago while coming undone on his fingers, you somehow felt all the more exposed now. Your eyes fluttered a few times, and you drew your arms closer to your chest as though it would shield you from his raw gaze. A breathy, forced laugh escaped you as you shook your head softly at him. 

“You’re just turned on right now, Choso.” You tried to brush off his sudden confession, protecting your pride from falling victim to his naivety. He shook his head though, pulling you up until you sat perched upon his lap. 

“No, I love you.” He stated again, this time more matter of factly. “You’re the only one who treats me like.. I’m human and not a curse. You’re the only one who makes me feel like I am human.” His fingers wrapped hesitantly around your forearms as he gently coaxed your arms away from their defensive positions. “I love you. Don’t you love me?”

A soft tremor wobbled your bottom lip, but you willed yourself to pull it together. Allowing your protective walls to crumble down with your last bit of resolve, you pushed at his chest until his back hit the floor. Not once did he let his eyes drift from yours, even as your fingers dug into his waistband to tug down the remainder of his clothes. 

His swelled length sprang free from the fleece lined prison they had been straining against for painfully long, falling against his stomach with a barely noticeable smack. You thought he might shy away from you, flush that familiar shade of red you’d begun making synonymous with him in your mind, but it only felt so natural to him to have your lingering eyes on even the most intimate parts of him. 

“Of course I do.” You whispered, moving to straddle his slim, defined waist. A shudder racked your body at the feeling of his thick cock pressing against your stomach, his tip already smeared with evidence of his arousal. His mouth fell open, eyes widening at the sensation of your soaked folds running across his length. With his rustled hair splayed out on the floor surrounding his head, pupils creating black holes in his already midnight stained eyes, you concluded that Choso would never stop growing more beautiful. “I love you.” 

With a fluttering blink, a stray tear gathered at the corner of his eye, slipping down his temple as you nudged his tip past your slicked entrance. It had admittedly been a while since you were last intimate with someone, so you couldn’t help but wince subtly at the stretch of his girth forcing your walls open. For him though, he wouldn’t know the difference, because he was inside you, and your heat was enveloping him like flames licking up his every nerve ending.

 His hands hovered over your back as you slowly sank down onto him, unable to find the courage to disrupt you until he was finally buried in you to completion. With featherlight brushed against your spine, Choso ran his fingers down the expanse of the silken skin on your back until he met the curve of your ass. Curling his grasp around the plush of fat he’d learned he could utterly worship till the day his body became one with the earth, he held you in place for a moment. 

By the heaving of his chest and the tremble in his pitched moan, you knew he wouldn’t last very long, but you were satisfied enough to watch him come undone under the careful touch of someone who truly loved him— someone he truly loved. 

“Hah, I— I love you.” The man gasped again, teary eyes rolling back into his skull as you steadied your hands on his chest to lift your hips just barely off him before sliding back down. You bit at your bottom lip as his tip grazed against that plush of nerves that hadn’t been explored in so long. His lips were pulling down into his famous pout while he planted his heels into the ground to chase your rhythm with sloppy thrusts of his own. 

“I love you, Cho.” You reciprocated through a harmonious moan, watching his face scrunch up pitifully as the pace of his hips grew erratic. 

“Bite me—ah!” He whimpered softly, puppy dog eyes pleading up at you in the way he knew you could never refuse.

 Your lips curled up at his request, unaware of just how much your previous actions had lingered in his mind. Tracing up the firm planes of his chest, your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging at it to maneuver his head to the side before leaning down to sink your teeth into the first bite you had left on him, the mark just barely faded on his trap. 

Choso felt utterly consumed by you, his heart thumping wildly in his muffled ears. With the pressure of your fingers’ grasp against his roots combined with the subtle sting of your canines against the sensitive skin just below his neck, it took all but one last supple roll of your hips for it all to come crashing down on him. 

His eyes rolled back, a delirious grin tickling his lips at the sensation that he was all yours to use. The once gentle squeeze his fingers had on your bottom morphed into a frenzied digging, surely leaving crescent shaped marks in the wake of his chipping nails. It was meant to hold you there, ensure your hips stayed glued to his own as he spilled himself inside of you with bone grinding thrusts.  He could feel himself oozing out of you and onto the unsuspecting rug beneath him, but none of it mattered to him because he finally understood.

 It didn’t matter the spiteful words that would slice across his vulnerable soul, and it didn’t matter whether or not someone thought he was human enough for you. What he was experiencing now, enveloped in the must of sex-littered air that surrounded you was all the confirmation he’d ever need that he was irrevocably soul tied to you. The half-curse had seen the absolute pinnacle of humanity, and you were perched upon it with your drooping breasts and pleasure-ridden face— the one that made the space between your brows crease and your nails dig into whatever slab of muscle on him was closest to you. 

As he finally began tumbling down the hill of his climax, his hands drifted up to splay across your back, keeping you pressed against his sweat lined chest. The twinkling lights in his peripheral seemed to blur at the edges of his sight as they mixed with his lingering tears. You were working gentle kisses up his neck, dragging your wet lips across his sharp jaw until you finally circled back to his still swollen lips. He hummed against your kiss, deciding affirmatively that he’d stay awkwardly splayed out across the floor of your dorm all night long if it meant he could keep you this close. 

“I… I think I have to get you a better Christmas gift.” Choso concluded, revelling in the sensation of your warmth still enveloping his softening manhood. “Yours was way better.”

You laughed tiredly against his cheek, pulling back to peer down at him in question. 

“What did you get me?”

His cheeks flushed, and he looked over at the small gift that sat just a few feet away from you under the tree with a soft pout. 

“It’s… it’s a Britney Spears CD.”

this was supposed to come out before christmas, but alas the procrastination won this time, so sorry for the delay :(

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[slytherinsmuse]

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Frigid Waters | Mattheo Riddle ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Fem! Reader

Warnings: characters are 18+, not canon, anger

Summary: Angst, Fluff | Through jealousy and regret, Mattheo finds redemption in an unexpected embrace.

Word count: 10262- needs adjusting

Mattheo Riddle and you had always shared a relationship that teetered on the edge of something that felt almost volatile. From the very beginning, something about him managed to set you off, and it seemed that every interaction you shared was a battle of wit, will, or pride. Your mutual friends were well accustomed to the tension that clouded the room whenever you were both present, a strain that had grown from minor annoyances to full-blown arguments over the years.

Yet, despite all the friction, Mattheo had always been there. He was sharp, observant, and insufferably bold, a combination that left you equally irked and intrigued. But of all the things Mattheo was, critical seemed to be his favourite when it came to you. He had an uncanny ability to notice things most people missed—especially when it came to the people you chose to surround yourself with.

One of the most explosive arguments between the two of you had taken place a month ago, over something as mundane as a date you’d gone on with a boy from Hufflepuff. You’d met him in Charms class, and although he wasn’t particularly flashy or bold, he’d been sweet, the kind of person who made you laugh without trying too hard. You’d looked forward to the evening, finding the simplicity of his company refreshing compared to the guarded, often intense personalities of your Slytherin circle. After the date, you’d returned to the Slytherin common room, feeling lighthearted and content.

But Mattheo had been waiting, sprawled casually on the common room couch with a book in his lap, his gaze fixed on you the moment you stepped through the door. His expression had darkened instantly, and before you’d even had a chance to process it, he’d spoken up, his voice cold and heavy with disdain.

“Really, Y/N?” he’d drawled, not bothering to mask the bitterness. “Him?”

Confusion furrowed your brow. “Excuse me?”

He’d sat up, his dark gaze sharp and accusatory, as if your mere presence was an affront. “That Hufflepuff boy.” he’d said, smirking slightly, though it lacked its usual charm. “I can’t believe you’d waste your time with someone so… bland.”

For a moment, you’d been stunned, caught between surprise and irritation. “Since when do you get a say in who I spend my time with, Mattheo?”

He’d shrugged, a casual, infuriating gesture that only added fuel to your frustration. “I don’t. I’m just saying it’s pathetic. You, out there with someone who doesn’t even know half of what you’re worth. Not to mention…” he trailed off, scoffing, “his personality is as thrilling as a leaking cauldron.”

The condescension in his tone had hit a nerve, and you’d felt a surge of anger you couldn’t quite suppress. “Unbelievable.” you muttered, more to yourself than to him, though your voice rose in volume. “Who I choose to spend time with is none of your business. Maybe I actually like spending time with people who don’t spend every moment judging me.”

He’d let out a dark laugh, low and mocking, and it echoed in the common room, reminding you of just how alone you were in that moment, facing off against him. “Is that what you call it?” he asked, his words like a challenge. “Enjoying time with boys who don’t even see you? You think that’s the kind of attention you deserve?”

The comment cut deep, and you could feel your frustration bubble over, mingling with a hurt you tried to mask. “At least he doesn’t spend his days acting like he owns everyone around him.” you shot back, voice shaking with the effort to keep it steady. “You think you can just say whatever you want and get away with it? Newsflash, Mattheo—you don’t own me, and you sure as hell don’t get to decide who’s worth my time.”

His smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing with something unreadable, and for a brief moment, you thought he might back down. But he’d held his ground, his gaze flickering with a hint of something darker.

 “Fine.” he muttered, crossing his arms as he leaned against the couch, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Go ahead. Waste your time with boys who don’t care enough to look deeper. But don’t come crying to me when you realize what you’re missing.”

The argument had ended there, with one of your friends stepping in to mediate, and you’d walked away, fuming and hurt, questioning why his opinion mattered to you at all. But the resentment had lingered, sinking into the very fabric of your interactions with Mattheo. Every conversation, every glance, and every comment held an edge, a simmering tension that had only grown since that argument. It felt as though an invisible wall had been built between the two of you, brick by bitter brick, and neither of you was willing to dismantle it. Each time you found yourself in the same room, you could feel the air grow thick, every word exchanged like a match threatening to ignite the powder keg of emotions that seemed to follow you both.

You were tired of it—tired of the constant back-and-forth, the pointed comments, and the way he always found a way to inject himself into your life. You couldn't understand why he cared so much, why he seemed so invested in your choices, especially when his words were rarely anything but critical. More than anything, you were tired of his scrutiny, the way he seemed to hover, watching and waiting, like he was constantly assessing your every move, every interaction. It was maddening.

In moments of quiet, when you could think clearly, you almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. You’d never asked for his opinions or his presence in your life, and yet he was always there, inserting himself uninvited, and treating each of your decisions with a disdain that felt far too personal. Whatever his reasons, you didn’t care anymore. You were done with him.

And yet, for the sake of your friends—the people who were as much a part of your life as the air you breathed—you tolerated his presence. You gritted your teeth through his criticisms, bit back your responses to his sarcastic remarks, and did your best to act as though he was nothing more than a nuisance in the background. It was exhausting, forcing yourself to stay civil when all you wanted was to tell him exactly where he could shove his opinions. You could barely stand being around him, yet every shared friend outing, every party, and every late-night study session in the common room meant enduring his presence.

There were times when your friends would exchange wary glances, sensing the tension between you and Mattheo, and you could tell they were hesitant to take sides. They’d become skilled at diverting conversations before they could escalate, quick to step in whenever your arguments grew too heated. Even Draco, who usually enjoyed a good spectacle, seemed to tread carefully whenever you and Mattheo began to clash. But despite your friends’ best efforts, the strain was there, undeniable and ever-present, a weight that neither you nor Mattheo seemed willing to ease.

Every time you saw him, the resentment flared anew. You’d see that familiar smirk, that cocky glint in his eye, and it would all come rushing back—the anger, the frustration, the complete exasperation of dealing with someone who seemed determined to get under your skin. You found yourself questioning whether he even cared about anyone other than himself, if he found amusement in your reactions, in the little fires he set just to watch them burn.

And yet, there was a small, infuriating part of you that wondered if his interference wasn’t just born of spite. You pushed the thought aside each time it arose, telling yourself you were done wasting energy on him. But even as you tried to ignore him, as you tried to dismiss the meaning behind his constant criticism, he was always there, pushing boundaries you didn’t even know existed.

That night by the lake, though, had finally pushed things too far.

~~~

The chill of winter had fully settled over Hogwarts, frosting the castle grounds with a glistening layer of snow and ice. It was nearly Christmas, and excitement for the holidays was palpable, building up to the night’s event: an all-house winter party, held just before everyone would leave for the break.

The professors and students had transformed the gardens into a dazzling winter wonderland. Evergreen garlands and enchanted holly bushes lined the pathways, their leaves glistening with a delicate layer of snow, while enchanted fairy lights sparkled from tree branches like clusters of stars, casting a soft, magical glow over the gathering. Giant wreaths with shimmering silver and gold accents hung at intervals, each adorned with deep red ribbons that fluttered in the crisp evening breeze.

To ward off the cold, tall iron torches were scattered throughout the gardens, their warm flames flickering and casting inviting glows across the snow-covered ground. The flames danced in shades of orange and gold, wrapping the chilly air in a cosy warmth that lured people to linger and chat.

Tables were set up with steaming drinks, both alcoholic and non, ready to warm the hands and spirits of the guests. There were enchanted goblets filled with mulled mead, spiced cider, and warm butterbeer, each drink casting a sweet aroma into the air. For those wanting to stay sober, there were mugs of hot cocoa with floating marshmallows that danced like tiny clouds, as well as steaming herbal teas enchanted to change colours with each sip.

You’d dressed carefully for the night. Under the glow of the torches, your outfit was striking against the wintery landscape. A fitted black dress hugged your figure, reaching down just above your ankles with a modest side slit. The high neckline and long sleeves gave it a touch of elegance while offering some warmth against the cold. Over it, you’d layered a thick, cropped black jacket, plush and luxurious, the hood large enough to shield your face from the breeze. The jacket’s soft, rich texture contrasted with the smooth fabric of your dress, creating a look that was both stylish and cosy.

On your feet were short black winter boots—simple, soft, and insulated to keep out the biting cold of the snowy ground. They grounded your look with a casual touch, perfect for wandering through the winter gardens while still keeping your toes warm.

You sipped on a cup of warm mulled mead, the sweet, spiced flavour settling pleasantly in your stomach, allowing you a moment to simply enjoy the festive air around you. Snowflakes drifted gently from the sky, and laughter and chatter filled the air as students huddled in groups, swapping stories and celebrating the season.

It should have been the perfect night.The fire crackled warmly in the nearest torch as you stood with Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Theo, and Daphne, exchanging stories and laughing as you all nursed your warm drinks. The group was relaxed, leaning into the cheer of the season as the chill of winter nipped at your faces, kept at bay by the heat of the torches and the laughter that filled the air.

Draco had just finished recounting an exaggerated tale of a recent Quidditch practice, his voice taking on a dramatic edge that drew a laugh from Pansy, who shook her head and rolled her eyes. Blaise chuckled, tipping his glass to Draco in mock admiration. “I’m not sure that story would hold up in court, Malfoy.” he teased, grinning.

“Of course it would.” Draco scoffed, feigning indignation. “If anyone else had been there, they’d tell it the same way.” His gaze swept around the circle, daring someone to challenge him.

Daphne smirked, giving Draco a knowing look. “I was there, remember? You barely dodged the Bludger.” she quipped. “And I believe you squealed.”

The group erupted in laughter, and even you couldn’t help but chuckle, taking a sip of your mead as the warmth from the drink spread through you. It was moments like this that made you forget about everything else—the tension, the drama, and even certain people.

Yet, despite the relaxed atmosphere, there was one member of your group who didn’t join in on the laughter. Mattheo was standing off to the side, nursing his drink in silence, though his gaze occasionally flicked toward the conversation, intently listening to every word exchanged. His expression was unreadable, his jaw set as he raised his glass to his lips, eyes lingering on you each time you laughed or smiled.

You tried to ignore the slight discomfort his gaze brought, though it was difficult to fully enjoy yourself under his intense scrutiny. Every time you made a joke or responded to one of your friends, you could feel his eyes on you, watching, observing. It was as though he was silently taking note of every word you said, every interaction you had with the others.

Pansy nudged you with her elbow, a smirk on her lips. “You must be cold, Y/N. You’ve been huddled by the torch all night.” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Or maybe you’re just trying to hog all the warmth?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Can you blame me?” you replied, pulling your jacket tighter around you. “I’m just trying not to freeze.”

Theo chuckled, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “It’s a good look on you—frozen chic.” he joked, earning a playful swat from you as the group laughed again.

Mattheo’s eyes narrowed slightly at the playful touch, his fingers tightening on his glass. Though he remained silent, the tension radiated from him like a second winter chill, barely hidden under his relaxed posture. The others didn’t seem to notice, caught up in the conversation, but you felt it keenly, an invisible string pulling tighter with each passing second.

Despite his silence, you knew Mattheo’s attention was focused entirely on you, every bit as intense as if he were speaking aloud. It was as though he was waiting for something, watching you with that familiar, infuriating mix of disapproval and something else you couldn’t quite place. You tried to brush it off, to stay in the warmth and cheer of the conversation, but his presence lingered in your mind, a shadow that refused to be ignored.

As the laughter in your group faded, a new voice cut through the conversation. You turned to see a boy from Ravenclaw—Ethan, a friend of yours from Charms—grinning as he approached, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. He was tall and easygoing, with a quiet confidence that made him likeable, the kind of person who could effortlessly strike up a conversation. You’d been chatting with him on and off over the past month, enjoying the calm normalcy he brought compared to the relentless drama that seemed to follow your Slytherin circle.

“Mind if I steal Y/N for a bit?” Ethan asked, directing his question at the group but his gaze settled on you with a friendly warmth. The others exchanged glances, but no one objected, and you flashed your friends a quick smile before allowing Ethan to gently pull you away from them.

As the two of you wandered toward the lake, the cold seemed sharper away from the warmth of the torches. Snow crunched beneath your boots as you followed the winding path, laughing at something Ethan said as he kept the conversation light and easy, a welcome distraction from the evening’s underlying tensions.

Behind you, however, things were far from calm.

Mattheo watched you go, his gaze darkening with each step you took alongside Ethan. He took a long, slow drink from his glass, his jaw tight, every nerve in his body tense. As you moved farther away, something in him snapped. His hand clenched around his glass, his usual quiet intensity boiling over into something dangerously close to rage.

“Mate, calm down.” Draco murmured, noticing the shift in Mattheo’s demeanour. He reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but Mattheo shrugged him off, his expression twisting into something fierce and unrestrained.

“Did you see that?” Mattheo’s voice was rough, almost a growl. “She just… left with him.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, exchanging a wary glance with Pansy, who looked equally concerned. “She’s just talking to him, Riddle. It’s not the end of the world.”

But Mattheo’s eyes were fixed on you and Ethan, his face contorted with an emotion that seemed to go beyond anger. It was possessive, a raw jealousy that pulsed through him with every breath. He could feel the alcohol heightening every sensation, every twisted thought, and in his drunken state, he found himself unable to control the wave of emotion that crashed over him.

Pansy stepped in, her voice calm but firm. “Mattheo, you’re overreacting. She’s allowed to have friends, you know.”

But her words only seemed to make him angrier. He glared at her, his fists clenched. “Friends? He’s been sniffing around her for weeks. And now he’s taking her out to the lake?” His voice was thick with bitterness, his eyes narrowing as he watched you disappear further into the distance with Ethan.

Theo placed a hand on Mattheo’s arm, trying to pull him back. “Look, you’re drunk, and you’re not thinking clearly. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

Mattheo’s eyes flicked to Theo, his voice filled with venom. “Regret? The only thing I’ll regret is standing here while he gets to play the gentleman.”

Despite their best efforts, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and Theo found themselves helpless to stop him. With a final, determined glance at the group, Mattheo shook them off and stormed toward the lake, his pace quick and purposeful, his eyes blazing with fury.

They exchanged uneasy glances, understanding that nothing good could come from this. Daphne sighed, folding her arms as she watched him go. “This is going to end badly.” she muttered, worry etched across her face.

Draco ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. “Well, let’s just hope he doesn’t do anything too stupid.”

But even as they watched him disappear into the darkness, they all had the sinking feeling that Mattheo’s jealousy had finally crossed a line—and that whatever happened next would be impossible to undo.

Mattheo reached the edge of the lake, hidden just out of sight among the trees. His breath was shallow, each exhale mingling with the cold night air in faint clouds of mist, but he barely noticed. His eyes were fixed on you and the Ravenclaw boy, his vision tunnelling in as he took in the scene.

You were standing close to the Ravenclaw, your breath fogging the air as you laughed softly at something he’d said. The sound of your laughter, so genuine and relaxed, hit Mattheo like a slap in the face. He felt the jealousy simmering in his chest twist and morph into something darker, more raw. He was close enough to catch snippets of your conversation, each word feeling like a fresh wound.

Ethan leaned in, his voice low and playful. “I can’t wait to see you after Christmas. Maybe I’ll even get to see the whole package this time.” His tone was teasing, the kind of flirtation that felt comfortable and familiar, yet full of suggestion.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile played at the corners of your lips. “Oh, is that right?” you replied, your voice equally teasing.

Ethan’s hand reached out, gently taking yours, and Mattheo’s fists clenched, his nails biting into his palms. He watched, barely breathing, as Ethan lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, lingering just long enough to leave no doubt about his intentions.

And that was it.

The last threads of control snapped within Mattheo. His vision went red, his mind clouded by a rage so fierce he couldn’t see past it. Every fibre of his being screamed that this was wrong, that no one else had the right to touch you, to make you laugh like that. To him, this wasn’t just jealousy; it was betrayal, a bitter confirmation of his worst fears. Without a second thought, he stormed forward, his footsteps heavy, crunching over the snow-laden ground as he closed the distance between himself and the two of you.

Your laughter died as soon as you heard him approaching. You turned, eyes widening in surprise, and saw Mattheo stalking toward you, his face twisted in fury, every line of his body tense and seething. Ethan quickly dropped your hand, glancing between you and Mattheo with a mixture of confusion and mild apprehension.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Mattheo’s voice was a low, dangerous growl, his eyes fixed on Ethan like he was a mere insect to be crushed.

Ethan straightened, clearly taken aback but trying to hold his ground. “We’re just talking, Riddle?” he said evenly, though his voice held a slight edge.

Mattheo took another step forward, his fists clenched at his sides. “Talking?” He laughed, though it was a dark, humourless sound. “Looked a lot more than just talking to me.”

You stepped between them, your expression both confused and frustrated. “Mattheo, what’s your problem? We’re just having a conversation.”

His gaze shifted to you, and the intensity of it was enough to make you take a small step back. “A conversation? He’s been hanging around you for weeks, trying to get close, and now he’s…” Mattheo’s voice trailed off, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t think so.”

Ethan huffed, glancing at you, as if silently asking if Mattheo was serious. “Mate, you don’t own her.” he said, his tone turning defiant. “Y/N can make her own choices.”

At that, Mattheo’s control snapped entirely. He reached out, grabbing Ethan by the front of his coat, his knuckles white with tension. “You think you can just put your hands on her like that?” he snarled, his voice shaking with barely-contained fury.

“Mattheo, stop it!” you shouted, your voice sharp with both anger and fear. You reached out, grabbing his arm to try to pull him back, but he barely seemed to register your touch.

Ethan managed to push Mattheo off, stumbling back a few steps, his expression turning to one of frustration. “This is insane. Y/N, I’ll see you later.” He shot Mattheo a disgusted look before turning on his heel and walking away, disappearing into the darkness.

As soon as Ethan disappeared into the shadows, Mattheo whipped around to face you, his chest heaving with the barely controlled fury that flickered in his eyes. The intensity of his gaze was like a storm brewing, wild and unrestrained, and you felt your own anger rise to meet it, every nerve in your body taut with indignation.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you demanded, your voice cracking with a mixture of disbelief and rage. Your fists clenched at your sides, barely able to contain the fury building inside. “You had no right to do that!”

Mattheo scoffed, a bitter, scornful sound as he crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing into a glare that cut through the cold night air. “No right?” he echoed, his voice laced with venom. “He was practically drooling over you, Y/N. And you were just standing there, letting him.”

Your anger flared white-hot, each word he threw at you only stoking the fire within. “So what if I was?” you shot back, your voice sharp as glass. “I can talk to whoever I want, Mattheo. You don’t get to decide that for me!”

He stepped closer, his face only inches from yours, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. “You really think he cares about you?” His tone was laced with a cruel edge, his words hitting like daggers. “He’s just another fool trying to get close because he thinks you’re easy.”

The insult was like a slap across the face, and you felt a surge of hurt and fury twist inside you, your vision blurring with the intensity of it. “How dare you?” you spat, your voice trembling with rage as you began moving towards him, attempting to remove yourself from the situation. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

But Mattheo barely registered your intentions, his drunken anger blinding him to your actions. Instead, he pushed you hard, his hand colliding with your shoulder with more force than he realised. The ground beneath you was slick with ice, and your footing slipped, your balance vanishing as you stumbled backward.

It happened in an instant—a heartbeat, a single, breathless moment where the world seemed to tilt. You felt yourself falling, your heart lurching in your chest as the lake loomed closer, and then, in a flash, the freezing water swallowed you whole.

The shock of the cold was like knives piercing every inch of your skin, stealing the air from your lungs in a harsh, unforgiving grip. The icy darkness closed in around you, pressing in from all sides as you sank below the surface, your body seizing in panic as the freezing water pulled you deeper. Every inch of you was numb, the biting cold sinking into your bones as your mind reeled, frantic and disoriented.

But you weren’t about to stay in the lake a second longer than necessary. Desperately, you forced yourself to kick, pushing toward the surface, your arms clawing against the freezing water as you fought to break free. The cold clung to you, slowing your movements and making each breath feel laboured, but sheer willpower drove you upward. Your head broke through the surface, and you gasped for air, the icy sting of the wind hitting you like another wave of shock.

With trembling limbs, you pushed yourself toward the shore, your movements clumsy and desperate. Your fingers reached for the slippery rocks along the edge, but the icy coating made it impossible to get a firm hold. You slipped, the slickness of the rocks pulling you back toward the water’s edge. Panic surged through you again, but you gritted your teeth, fighting against the cold and the fear as you scrambled forward, slipping and stumbling with every movement.

Through your water-blurred vision, you caught sight of Mattheo standing on the shore, arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression. He didn’t look panicked; in fact, he seemed disturbingly calm, his face set with a strange intensity as he observed your struggle. His posture was rigid, unmoving, as if he was rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on you, every step you took seeming to hold his full attention.

You hauled yourself forward, every inch of your body aching with the effort, until you finally reached the bank. The moment your hands touched solid ground, you pushed yourself up, crawling onto the frosty grass, your breaths coming in ragged, desperate gasps. Your fingers and toes felt numb, your soaked clothes clinging to you, cold and heavy. You didn’t even have the strength to stand yet; instead, you knelt there, shivering violently as the cold seeped deeper into you.

Still, Mattheo didn’t move. He just watched you, his gaze unwavering, his face shadowed and hard, as if this was some sort of lesson he was waiting for you to learn.

Anger flared within you, cutting through the numbing cold, and you forced yourself up, stumbling as you took a shaky step toward him. “What… is wrong with you?” you choked out, your voice thick with rage and exhaustion. You could barely form the words through your shivering, but the fire in your eyes was clear. “Are you… insane?”

He tilted his head, his gaze steady, unbothered. “You’re the one who keeps making reckless choices.” he replied coolly, his voice calm, unfeeling, as if he wasn’t the reason you’d just plunged into the freezing lake.

The sheer indifference in his tone sent a fresh wave of anger crashing over you, and you staggered forward, your teeth chattering as you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “You pushed me in.” you hissed, your words trembling as much as your body. “And you just stood there… watching.”

He shrugged, his eyes flashing with something unreadable. “You got out, didn’t you?”

The casualness of his response stunned you into silence. He seemed unaffected, almost as if the entire situation was nothing more than an inconvenience. But as he looked at you, his expression softened—just barely, a flicker of something that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of his gaze, anger and hurt warring within you. It was like you were seeing him for the first time, the dark, cold part of him that lurked beneath his usual intensity. The silence stretched between you, brittle and bitter, before he finally took a step closer, his voice dropping low.

“You were with him.” he muttered, as if that was supposed to explain everything.

Your eyes narrowed, a mixture of disbelief and fury in your voice. “So that justifies this?” you spat, gesturing to your soaked, shivering form. “You’re a coward, Mattheo. You don’t get to act like you care and then do… this.”

He clenched his jaw, but for the first time, his steady gaze wavered, a flicker of something almost like regret crossing his face. He didn’t respond, simply standing there as you took a shaky breath, your body trembling from the cold and anger alike.

Without another word, you turned on your heel, forcing yourself to walk away from him, each step an agonising struggle as the cold cut through your soaked clothes, leaving you shivering violently. Every muscle in your body ached from the freezing lake, and you could barely catch your breath, but you refused to let him see you stumble. Your anger was the only thing keeping you upright, fueling your determination to put as much distance as possible between you and the boy who had caused this.

As you pushed yourself forward, Mattheo stood frozen, watching your retreating figure with a dawning sense of regret and confusion. The gravity of what he’d done settled over him like a weight, each step you took away from him sinking the realisation deeper into his chest. He’d let his anger, his jealousy, get the better of him, and now he was left in the wake of his own reckless actions, unsure how to fix the mess he’d made.

But as he saw you growing smaller, disappearing into the shadows toward the castle, something snapped inside him. Panic flared in his chest, and without thinking, he rushed after you, his heart pounding as he stumbled forward, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Y/N, wait! I’m sorry!” he called, his words cutting through the quiet of the night.

You ignored him, your jaw clenched as you quickened your pace, not sparing him a single glance. All you could think about was getting inside, getting warm, and getting as far away from him as possible. You could hear his footsteps pounding behind you, his voice echoing as he continued to call out.

“Y/N, please—stop! I didn’t mean to—” His voice cracked, filled with an edge of desperation, but you didn’t care. You felt nothing but fury, the cold seeping into your bones and mingling with the anger boiling in your veins.

As you neared the garden, you could see the party still in full swing, warm lights and laughter filling the air. The students around the torches were unaware of the storm that had erupted by the lake, oblivious to the anger and hurt that now trailed behind you like a shadow.

You pushed through the edge of the gathering, your soaked clothes clinging to you, your hair dripping, your teeth chattering as the freezing cold seeped into every part of you. Conversation ceased abruptly as heads turned in your direction. Draco, Pansy, Theo, Blaise, and Daphne all looked up, their expressions shifting from casual interest to wide-eyed shock as they took in the state you were in. Their gazes flickered from you to Mattheo, who was only a few steps behind, his face stricken with a mixture of panic and regret.

“Y/N!” Pansy’s voice was the first to break the silence, her tone laced with concern as she took a hesitant step forward, but you didn’t stop. You pushed past them all, barely registering their looks of confusion and worry. Your only thought was to get to the Slytherin dormitory, to get somewhere warm where you could be alone, away from the prying eyes and judgmental stares.

“Y/N, please!” Mattheo’s voice grew more frantic as he called after you, his footsteps quickening as he tried to keep up. “Just… just let me explain! I didn’t mean for this to happen!”

You whirled around for a brief moment, your voice laced with fury as you yelled back, “Get lost, Mattheo!” The words echoed in the garden, slicing through the stunned silence that had settled over the party. Your friends watched, unable to mask their surprise as you turned back toward the castle, ignoring the looks, ignoring the whispers, and ignoring him.

You stormed into the castle, the warmth of the hallways doing little to soothe the bone-deep chill that had settled over you. Behind you, Mattheo’s calls continued, his voice carrying through the corridors as he followed, each step echoing with the sound of his regret.

“Y/N!” he yelled, desperation thickening his voice as he followed you up the stairs. “Please… I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry!”

But you didn’t look back. You kept your head down, refusing to let him see the hurt mingling with your anger, the betrayal stinging far deeper than the icy water that still clung to your skin. You didn’t stop, didn’t let yourself falter, even as his voice grew louder, pleading, a raw edge of panic breaking through his usual confidence.

Finally, you reached the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory, muttering the password through chattering teeth. The door swung open, and without a second glance, you slipped inside, letting it close firmly behind you, shutting out Mattheo’s voice and the cold night air.

The second you stepped into the Slytherin dorm, you felt the weight of the night crashing down on you, the cold from the lake sinking deeper into your bones with each passing second. Your clothes clung to you, soaked and heavy, and a shiver ran through you, violent and unrelenting, as you forced yourself to move. Your mind was a haze of anger, hurt, and disbelief, but the only thing that mattered now was escaping the chill that had rooted itself in every corner of your being.

You stumbled into your room, tearing off your wet clothes as quickly as your frozen fingers would allow. Each movement was stiff and jerky, and the soaked fabric clung to your skin, making you feel even more trapped in the freezing memory of the lake. Once your clothes lay discarded on the floor in a dark, damp heap, you wrapped yourself in your thickest towel, fighting to regain even the smallest bit of warmth.

You made your way to the shower, barely able to feel the handle as you twisted it, letting the water pour down in steaming torrents. You stepped in, and for a moment, the heat was too much, biting at your skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. The warmth seeped over you slowly, each drop thawing the numbness that had settled in your muscles, but it wasn’t enough. No matter how high you turned up the water, no matter how long you let it pour over you, the bone-deep chill remained, lingering stubbornly as if it had become a part of you.

You stood there, shivering beneath the stream, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders, but the anger and hurt refused to dissipate. Your mind kept replaying the scene by the lake—Mattheo’s cold, scornful expression, his sharp, unforgiving words, the sensation of his hand pushing you with that brief, reckless force. It all circled in your thoughts, twisting into a knot of emotions you couldn’t untangle.

Eventually, you turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in the thickest, warmest clothes you could find—a soft sweater that felt like a hug against your still-chilled skin, thick socks, and an oversized pair of sweats. You wrapped yourself in a blanket, but even then, the cold persisted, gnawing at you from the inside.

Your room was too quiet, too empty, the walls feeling like they were closing in around you. Despite the layers you’d piled on, you couldn’t shake the chill or the anger simmering just beneath the surface. The heat from the shower hadn’t worked, and you needed warmth, real warmth, something solid and grounding to erase the traces of tonight.

Reluctantly, you made your way to the common room, hoping the fire there might finally drive away the cold. As you descended the stairs, the crackling warmth from the hearth grew stronger, and for a brief moment, you felt the tiniest bit of relief.

But as soon as you entered, you saw him.

Mattheo was there, pacing in front of the fire, his face drawn, his shoulders hunched with tension. The sight of him, standing there as though he were waiting for you, sent a fresh wave of anger through you, burning hotter than the fire in the grate. He noticed you immediately, his eyes snapping to yours, an expression of regret flashing across his face.

“Y/N.” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

You held up a hand, cutting him off before he could finish. You couldn’t bear to hear his apologies, his weak attempts to justify what he’d done. Without a word, you turned away from him, heading straight to the fire, sinking down onto the floor in front of it. You wrapped your arms around yourself, staring into the flames, letting their warmth seep into you as you tried to block out his presence.

But Mattheo didn’t leave. He hovered nearby, his footsteps slowing as he stopped his pacing, watching you with a look of guilt and desperation. “Please… just listen to me.” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

You ignored him, keeping your gaze firmly on the flames, focusing on the warmth radiating from them, feeling it ease some of the chill from your skin. But it didn’t touch the cold that had settled in your chest, the bitter feeling of betrayal that refused to fade. The fire was warm, but it wasn’t enough to erase the memory of the lake, the shock of the icy water, the memory of what he’d done.

“Y/N…” Mattheo’s voice broke through your thoughts, soft and filled with a raw, unguarded pain that you’d rarely heard from him. He took a hesitant step forward, as if drawn by something he couldn’t control. “I know I messed up. I know I went too far. But… please. I’m sorry.”

Still, you didn’t respond. The anger simmered in your veins, a fierce, unrelenting heat that fueled you, keeping your silence intact as he stood there, fumbling for words that could never make up for what he’d done.

He moved closer, stopping just a few steps away, the firelight casting shadows across his face. “Please, just say something.” he whispered, his voice raw. “I can’t stand this silence.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the warmth from the fire start to thaw your fingers, though your heart remained cold, guarded against his words. Part of you wanted to lash out, to tell him exactly what you thought, to give voice to the storm of hurt and anger inside you. But another part, the part that was exhausted and worn down by the events of the night, didn’t have the strength for another fight.

You shook your head, focusing on the crackling flames, willing him to leave you alone. But he stayed, watching you, his hands clenched at his sides as if he was holding himself back from reaching out to you.

“Y/N… please.” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry.”

Without thinking, you finally looked up, meeting his gaze with a cold, unwavering stare. “Sorry isn’t enough, Mattheo.” you said, your voice low and steady. “You crossed a line.”

He flinched, the words hitting him like a physical blow. He took a shaky breath, his eyes filled with a desperate sadness as he struggled to find a response. But there was nothing he could say to fix this, no apology that could erase what he’d done.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating, swallowing any attempt at words. For the first time, you saw Mattheo’s usual mask of arrogance and control slip, his expression turning raw and exposed, like he was standing on the edge of something he couldn’t come back from. His eyes held a helplessness that made your heart ache, even through the anger and hurt that weighed you down. He seemed utterly lost, each second of your silence stripping away his defences, leaving him with nothing but the heavy weight of his own regret.

After a long, shaky breath, Mattheo glanced around the common room, his gaze landing on a thick blanket draped across one of the couches. He took a moment, seemingly gathering his courage, before reaching for it. Moving slowly, as if afraid of breaking the fragile quiet, he wrapped the blanket over his arm, then walked around to sit behind you. You felt his presence press close, your breath catching as he settled in, his legs framing yours.

Before you could react, he gently placed the blanket over your shoulders and pulled it around both of you, wrapping you in its warmth. He shifted, his body pressed against yours, solid and grounding, and as he leaned forward, you could feel his arms around you, hesitant but steady, his hands holding the edges of the blanket close.

The warmth from his body seeped through the fabric, a stark contrast to the lingering chill in your bones. You wanted to push him away, to reject this unexpected closeness, but something stopped you. Perhaps it was the way his arms encircled you so carefully, or the softness of his breath against your neck, barely audible but full of tension and regret. Whatever it was, a small voice inside you whispered not to move, to let the silence and his presence speak for him in a way that his words couldn’t.

He held you there, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath, the warmth radiating from him slowly melting away the last remnants of the lake’s cold grip on you. His body was tense, as if he was bracing himself for rejection, yet he stayed, unmoving, simply allowing you to rest against him.

The anger simmering inside you softened slightly, the edges dulled by the unexpected comfort of his embrace. You felt his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slightly on the blanket as he shifted, drawing you closer. His arms around you felt secure, steady, as if he was trying to hold together what he’d nearly shattered.

He spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a rawness you’d never heard from him before. “You’re freezing.” he murmured, and you could feel the tremor in his tone, the guilt that seeped into every word. “I didn’t… I didn’t realise…”

The words hung in the air, unfinished, as if he couldn’t bring himself to say aloud what he already knew—that he’d pushed too far, that he’d let his emotions cloud his judgement in a way that had hurt you. His hand shifted, pressing gently against your arm as he felt the lingering cold beneath your layers, a physical reminder of his mistake.

You felt a surge of conflicting emotions—a part of you wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the hurt he’d caused, but his touch, so careful and remorseful, made it harder to keep your walls up. You stayed still, your heart beating a little faster as you leaned back, just slightly, allowing yourself to rest against him, his warmth a balm against the remaining chill.

After a moment, he spoke again, his voice rough, like he was struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry.” he whispered, his breath warm against your neck. “For everything… for letting things get so out of hand. I was angry, but that doesn’t make it right.”

His arms tightened around you, and he rested his chin gently against your shoulder, his closeness grounding you in a way that was both comforting and unsettling. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I don’t know how to explain it.” There was a vulnerability in his tone that you’d never heard before, a crack in his usual confidence that left him exposed.

You swallowed, feeling the last of your anger wane as you listened to him, sensing the weight of his remorse. His head rested against yours, and you could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, as if he was willing you to feel the sincerity in his words through his touch alone.

For a moment, the common room was silent, the only sounds being the crackling of the fire and the soft, even rhythm of his breathing. You sat there, wrapped in the blanket, cocooned in his warmth, and felt the chill finally start to fade, replaced by an unexpected sense of peace.

“Why?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, a question weighted with all the confusion, hurt, and disbelief that had built up over the night. You felt his arms tighten around you, his grip growing more secure, as if he could keep you there simply by holding on a little closer.

Mattheo took a deep, shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling slowly behind you. His hesitation was palpable, and for a moment, you thought he might not answer. But then he spoke, his voice low and strained, as if he was forcing himself to admit something he’d kept buried for far too long.

“I can’t bear seeing someone else touch you.” he murmured, the words barely a whisper. “It drives me insane. I want to be the only one to… to be close to you.” He paused, and his hand gently pressed against your arm, as if to make his point clearer. “The thought of someone else being the one you look at, the one you laugh with... I just can’t stand it.”

A quiet sigh escaped him, the sound soft but laced with regret. His fingers brushed over your shoulder, his touch lingering with an intensity that held all the things he struggled to say. “I know I went about it all wrong. I know I hurt you.” His voice dropped, quiet but steady. “But I don’t know how to… how to want you and not ruin it.”

You took a shaky breath, his words sinking in, a strange mixture of relief and frustration settling over you. “If that’s what you wanted…” you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of sadness, “then you went about it in the worst way possible, Mattheo.”

He nodded, his head dipping against yours, the warmth of his breath brushing against your cheek. “I know.” he whispered, his tone filled with a raw honesty that made your heart ache. “I know I messed up, and I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

Your chest tightened, the remnants of your anger softening as you sensed the vulnerability in his words, the way his grip on you seemed to hold a quiet desperation. For all his flaws, for all the anger and tension that had passed between you, there was a part of him that wanted to make things right, even if he didn’t fully know how.

Slowly, you shifted, resting your head gently on his shoulder, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a comforting weight. You turned slightly, just enough to catch his gaze, your eyes meeting his in the flickering glow of the firelight. His expression was guarded, but his eyes held a depth of feeling, a storm of emotions he could no longer hide.

He stared at you, his gaze intense and searching, as though he was trying to understand what you were thinking, what you were feeling. His eyes drifted down, and he bit his lip softly, his brow furrowing in that familiar way that revealed his uncertainty. His fingers tightened their hold, pressing into your arm gently but firmly, as if anchoring himself in the moment.

The tension in the air was thick, and your heartbeat got a little faster, each beat echoing in the silence that had settled between you. You watched as his eyes flickered to your lips, the faintest glimmer of hesitation crossing his face before he met your gaze again, something unspoken lingering in his expression.

He swallowed, his voice rough when he finally spoke. “I don’t deserve this chance… but I want it.” His hand gently traced the curve of your arm, his touch both hesitant and possessive, as if he feared losing you yet couldn’t resist the urge to hold you closer. “I want… us.” he whispered, barely above a breath, his eyes never leaving yours.

You felt the vulnerability in his words, the fragile hope beneath the weight of his regret. The warmth of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, made it hard to hold onto your anger, to resist the quiet yearning in his expression. With a soft sigh, you leaned into him, letting your forehead rest against his, feeling his breath mix with yours in the small, shared space.

“Then show me.” you murmured, your voice gentle but firm. “If you want this, show me that you can do better. Show me that you can be the one… without hurting me.”

A spark of determination flickered in his eyes as he held you close. “I will,” he promised, his voice raw and unsteady, carrying a weight that seemed to settle in the space between you. His hand lifted slowly, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek as he cupped your face, his touch warm and grounding. He held you there, close and steady, his gaze locked onto yours with a quiet, unyielding intensity that left no doubt—he meant every word.

Ever so slowly, he leaned in. His eyes never left yours, as if giving you a moment to pull away, to say something, to stop him if you wanted to. But your breath caught, and despite every instinct in your mind screaming for you to pull back, you stayed. You could feel his warmth, the softness of his hand cradling your cheek, the gentle brush of his lips as they closed the distance, capturing yours in a kiss that was tender, hesitant—almost as if he were afraid of breaking something fragile.

Your heart pounded, a rush of emotions flooding through you, a confusing tangle of anger, longing, and vulnerability that left you unsure. Part of you wanted to pull away, to hold onto the walls you’d built to keep him out, but another part, buried deep, wanted to melt into the kiss, to allow yourself to feel something other than the hurt he had caused.

His lips moved softly against yours, patient and unhurried, and the gentleness of it surprised you, easing some of the tension in your body. You felt his hand tighten ever so slightly on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that made your heart ache. There was a vulnerability in his kiss, an unspoken apology in the way he held you, and you felt yourself caught between wanting to give in and wanting to guard yourself from any more hurt.

The conflicting emotions churned within you, and your mind remained torn. Every rational thought warned you to pull back, to protect yourself from him and the mess he’d made. But as his lips lingered on yours, soft and sincere, you found it harder to resist the pull, to ignore the gentle urgency in his touch that seemed to plead for forgiveness, for something new.

For a heartbeat, you allowed yourself to lean into him, letting his warmth melt away some of the bitterness and hurt that had settled between you. His other hand moved to rest on your stomach,his touch grounding you, his kiss growing deeper but never forceful, as though he was waiting for you to decide, to choose whether to close the distance or pull away.

Slowly, hesitantly, you shifted, adjusting your body to angle more toward him, opening yourself just slightly, allowing yourself to lean into his touch. The tension in your chest eased bit by bit as you deepened the kiss, surprising him. You felt a subtle, almost inaudible gasp from him, a momentary pause, as if he hadn’t expected you to respond with such openness.

But he didn’t resist; instead, he welcomed you, his hand tightening slightly on your stomach, pulling you closer. His lips softened, responding to the shift in your movements with an eagerness that was barely restrained, as though he, too, was savouring each second, afraid it might slip away.

His fingers brushed gently towards your jaw, trailing down to your neck as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours in the warm, shared space. The world around you faded, leaving only the steady beat of his heart against you, the warmth of his hands, and the gentle, growing intensity of the kiss.

You could feel the weight of his feelings in every touch, each small movement laced with something raw, something real that left you both vulnerable and secure. The hurt and anger that had kept you guarded all night seemed to dissolve with every lingering moment, replaced by a fragile trust, a quiet hope that maybe this was something worth holding onto.

As the kiss deepened, his thumb brushed against your skin in soothing circles, his touch tender and sure, in a way that made your heart race and calm at once. You allowed yourself, for the first time, to let go of the hurt, to let yourself trust the sincerity in his touch. And as you pulled him closer, you felt the edges of something new taking shape between you—an unspoken promise, a chance for something real.

The warmth from the fire, combined with Mattheo’s steady embrace, chased away the last lingering traces of the cold that had seeped into your bones. The biting chill of the lake was a distant memory now, completely overshadowed by the comforting heat radiating from him. Slowly, you felt your muscles relax, the weight of exhaustion finally catching up to you as you leaned against him, your head nestled against his chest. His heartbeat was a gentle rhythm, soothing in its constancy, and as your eyes fluttered shut, you surrendered to the quiet peace that had settled between you.

Mattheo stayed perfectly still, his arms steady around you as if afraid to disturb the fragile calm you’d found together. His hand moved lightly, his fingers tracing a soft, calming pattern on your arm as he watched you begin to drift, your breathing slowing with each passing second. He didn’t say a word, his gaze softening as he took in the peaceful expression on your face, a stark contrast to the tension and anger that had filled the air just an hour ago.

As he felt you lean more heavily against him, he realised you’d fallen asleep, your breath warm against his chest, each exhale slow and steady. For a moment, he simply held you there, savouring the quiet intimacy of the moment, a sense of protectiveness rising within him that he hadn’t fully acknowledged before. The thought of you being hurt, of you feeling even a fraction of the pain he’d caused, stirred something deep within him, something he wanted to make up for, to mend.

With a gentle touch, he shifted, adjusting his position so he could cradle you more comfortably. He moved with the utmost care, sliding his arms beneath you and lifting you slightly, guiding you so that you rested more fully against him. Slowly, he pulled you up onto the couch, his movements tender, cautious, as he settled you on his lap. The blanket was still wrapped around both of you, cocooning you in warmth, and he adjusted it so that you were completely covered, nestled close to him.

You stirred slightly in your sleep, shifting to settle into him more comfortably, your head resting against his shoulder, and he instinctively tightened his hold, cradling you gently. His hand came to rest lightly on your back, his fingers brushing over the fabric of your sweater in a rhythmic, soothing motion.

He let out a quiet breath, his gaze lingering on you with an expression of pure tenderness that he’d rarely allowed himself to show. The walls he’d built, the armour he wore, all of it had faded in this moment, leaving only the raw, unguarded feeling of wanting to keep you safe, to make up for the hurt he’d caused, and to hold you as though you were something precious.

For the first time, he understood just how much you meant to him, and as he sat there, with you asleep in his arms, he made a silent promise—to protect this fragile trust, to be better, to be the person worthy of the trust you’d given him tonight.

He stayed like that, unmoving, his own heartbeat slowing to match yours, as the fire crackled softly beside you. The night stretched on, quiet and peaceful, and he held you close, letting the silence speak for him, his heart holding the words he couldn’t yet say.

The warmth of the fire wrapped around you, lulling you deeper into sleep as you lay comfortably in Mattheo’s arms, his hand resting protectively on your back. He stayed silent, his gaze fixed on you, every inch of his attention focused on the gentle rise and fall of your chest. The common room was peaceful, the only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft murmur of your steady breaths.

But the quiet didn’t last.

The heavy door to the common room creaked open, and Mattheo’s head snapped up. In came Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Theo, and Daphne, their voices low but filled with curiosity and concern as they stepped inside. They seemed to be in mid-conversation, muttering about the way you’d rushed off earlier and Mattheo’s strange behaviour at the party.

As soon as they saw the two of you on the couch, however, they fell silent, their eyes widening as they took in the sight: you, fast asleep in Mattheo’s arms, wrapped up in a thick blanket with his hand resting gently on your back.

Pansy’s mouth dropped open, her eyebrows shooting up as she nudged Draco, who looked equally stunned but managed to mask it with a small smirk. “Well, isn’t this a sight.” she whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Blaise exchanged a quick look with Theo, both of them looking thoroughly amused. “I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.” Blaise murmured, a grin creeping onto his face. “Riddle actually being… soft?”

Mattheo shot them a warning look, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he tightened his hold on you protectively, silently begging them not to wake you. But Theo, never one to let a good opportunity slip by, leaned closer, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Did we miss the part where you finally confessed your undying love, Mattheo?” he whispered, barely able to contain his laughter. “Or was this just a spur-of-the-moment cuddle session?”

Mattheo’s face flushed, and he shot Theo a glare, his voice low and firm. “Shut it, Theodore.” he muttered, his fingers gently tracing your shoulder, as if reassuring himself you were still asleep.

Daphne, usually one to tease, softened as she took in the sight of you nestled peacefully against him. She stepped forward, offering him a small, understanding smile.“It was about time you two figured this out.”

With that, she placed a hand on Pansy’s arm, guiding her toward the staircase. The others exchanged a final round of amused glances, Blaise giving Mattheo a playful salute as they turned to leave, their footsteps fading up the stairs.

Once they were gone, Mattheo let out a quiet sigh, his gaze returning to you. His hand resumed its gentle tracing along your back, his expression softening as he took in the calm, content look on your face. Despite the teasing, he felt a rare sense of peace, as if, for the first time, everything was exactly how it was supposed to be.

He leaned his head back, pulling the blanket tighter around you both, and let the warmth of the fire and your presence lull him into a quiet calm, the world around you slipping away, leaving only the unspoken promise he held in his heart.

Likes, reblogs and comments are always very much appreciated! ♡

© slytherinsmuse. please do not copy, claim, translate or steal any of my works as your own.

[jks1uv]

𝑌𝑜𝑢 & 𝐼 (𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 & 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑗𝑎𝑘𝑒) ; the moon boys | one-shot |

summary: marc notices steven’s lingering gaze on you when he thinks he’s hidden away.

pairing: fem!wife!reader x husband!marc spector.

trope: established relationship + husband who doesn’t play about his wife.

genre: fluff + some comedic relief + mild angst.

warnings‼️: jealous!marc + mean!marc (he’s a bit of a bully to steven) + jake makes his first appearance!

word count: 2,454.

random disclaimerrr: reader’s last name is l/n-spector. i was inspired by an edit that had the clip of marc saying “you’re in love with my wife?!” & steven was like “if i need, like, for a recipe for a protein shake or something, i’ll call ya.” 😭 ts was funny. the last line is inspired by this post! happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

Marc Spector has a natural talent in terms of observation. He’s perceptive, sharp.

You never know when he’s there simply because he chooses not to make his presence known.

It’s kind of scary, actually. You’ve had your fair share of panicked frights that almost brought you a heart attack.

He’s toned it down a lot ever since you’ve settled down and made a place in his heart.

You know him, truly see him for who he is.

You know his rough and calloused hands are in that image because of the hard work he puts in. You know his tired eyes harbor an ache that paints his soul a deep blue. You know there are some things he won’t tell you despite marrying you but you don’t mind.

You’ve been nothing but patient with him so you’ll wait as long as you need to.

Currently, you can’t wait for too long because you need something from the bathroom but it’s occupied.

He and the man in the mirror are having a heated discussion of which you’re the topic of.

“I’ve been in control this whole time-”

“Exactly! You’ve been in control of the body this whole time! When will it be my turn?!”

Marc shuts his eyes and rubs the sides of his forehead.

Steven has a point, he knows that.

However, he also knows the way the British man looks at you. His gaze is filled with longing, something Marc has familiarized himself with.

He wants to speak to you so badly but is shoved away inside like a haphazardly packed suitcase.

Steven has developed a romantic fondness for you and it grows stronger every time Marc intervenes.

“Why won’t you let me talk to her?”

It’s pitiful, how dejected Steven sounds.

Pathetic is really the word Marc wants to use but it’s not about the words. It’s about Marc’s jealousy.

“It’s not that.”

Your husband denies it like he’s been doing but Steven knows better.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Marc. I know why you won’t give me the body.”

If looks can kill, the ex-mercenary would’ve been the world’s most wanted serial killer.

“This conversation is over.” His tone is grave and cold.

“Finally.” Your muffled voice sounds.

Marc can see Steven’s face visibly brighten and there’s a hint of hope sparkling in his eyes. It almost makes Marc break his possessive streak.

Almost.

He sighs as he twists the knob revealing you standing in the doorway.

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” You pry with your weight shifted on one hip and your arms crossed.

Marc stares at you and takes you in like he’s seeing you for the first time.

Your red and black plaid pajama pants grown soft over the years from the laundry machines, the faded logo of a graphic tee hanging off your shoulder.

Your hair is damp from your shower earlier and he can still smell the products you’ve incorporated into your shower and skincare routine.

He subconsciously stops himself and allows Steven to really see you as well. Or maybe it’s the effect your love has on your husband that makes him stop dead in his tracks.

Either way, it’s you.

“Marc? Are you okay?”

Your eyebrows furrow a bit in concern and your hands reach out to him.

Marc doesn’t respond. He just stares at you with his deer-like eyes, like widening them would encompass your image.

His body shifts slightly but you clock it immediately.

His feet shuffle as he closes in on himself, his posture isn’t as upright as Marc’s and his face. His face is the biggest giveaway.

Those eyes that you’ve stared into for the longest seem like a different pair. They are foreign yet seem familiar.

You have an idea of who this newfound man is.

“Steven?” You murmur hesitantly.

Steven ignores you and goes to sit down on your shared kingsize bed.

You note his shaky hands and wandering eyes, he’s clearly lost and doesn’t know what to do.

“I dunno how this happened.” He blurts out.

You nod, though you’re as confused as he is because you don’t know what he’s talking about.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

Steven watches you carefully as you sit down next to him, deliberately putting space between you two.

He admires your face and is deep in thought when you speak up again.

“So.”

“Pardon?”

You blink and can’t help the smile that paints your face. He’s endearing you think.

“What were you and Marc gossiping about in there?”

You would never pry like this, in fact it’s the first time you’re putting pressure on the man— well, in this case; men.

But you’ve never formally met Steven before. You saw glimpses of him when he’d be reading a book on a sleepless night or making tea for comfort.

Fragments of himself would be left behind like pieces of a puzzle you were meant to solve.

You talked about it with Marc but he always seemed uncomfortable with the idea of letting you meet them.

You never forced Marc to show Steven or Jake but it was taking a bit of a toll on your marriage.

Steven saw it from the inside and wished so desperately to front himself but Marc was stronger.

Apparently not this time.

“You.” He whispers.

“Me?”

He nods slightly, his soft eyes filled with adoration for you.

You chuckle lightly in surprise.

“All good things I hope?”

Steven’s gaze shifts down to the carpet, visibly faltering in his movement.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, no, no! You could never make me uncomfortable.”

There’s a warmth that spreads across the apples of your cheeks and it seeps into the skin. It makes you smile and Steven swears he can see the sun.

“Oh, bollocks. Marc’s gonna chew me out later for that.”

“And why is that?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Before Steven can take another breath in his name, Marc comes out and banishes him back inside.

“Marc! You missed it! Steven and I were having a wonderful conversation.” You exclaim with excitement.

Marc is not impressed nor interested.

“Yeah, I bet.” He grumbles.

He stands up and walks out of the bedroom, not necessarily having a set destination in mind.

“What’s wrong?” You follow him outside and into the living room.

Marc heaves out an exasperated sigh, his hands rub at his face and you can feel the tension rising from his body.

You gulp in fear of doing something wrong but is it wrong to speak of the elephant in the room? Literally.

Is it really wrong to address the man who’s technically the third man in y’all’s relationship?

“Did I do something?”

Marc looks at your nervous form.

It’s quiet for a few moments and the way his eyes dart from and to you seems as though there’s something you’re missing.

“No.” He softly sighs. “You didn’t.”

You take that as a sign to step close and he lets his body fall back on the couch behind him.

You follow in pursuit.

“It’s… complicated.”

He finally gives you something.

“More complicated than you being the vessel of an Egyptian God?”

The soft lilt of your voice gives away your teasing and he huffs out a laugh.

“No. No I suppose not.” The corners of his lips turn upward slightly.

He holds your hand in his and rubs your knuckles with his thumb.

“Steven has a crush on you.”

He confesses this with such seriousness that you can’t help but giggle a little.

“Wait, what?” You tilt your head a bit.

“Don’t.” He groans.

Your eyebrows jump a bit and your eyes widen with realization.

“Oh wow.” You gasp.

He doesn’t say anything but you know he’s thinking.

“Are you jealous?” You muse.

He snaps his head at you mid-conversation with Steven.

“What.”

The baritone in his voice has become even deeper if possible and it lowkey sends shivers down your spine.

But you don’t back down. “You heard me.”

He scoffs indignantly but you know it’s not towards you.

“I’m not… jealous.”

He says it like it’s a disease. (it is! get well soon marc!)

You roll your eyes at his poor display of a stern disagreement.

“You literally sound like you don’t believe it yourself.”

“Okay, whatever. I’m not jealous.”

You shrug and prop your head on your hand, your elbow resting on a pillow nearby.

The look on your face is that of a shit-eating grin and eyes that narrow when you know you’ve caught him in a lie.

Marc shakes his head and rolls his tongue over his teeth.

You take it upon yourself and shift to being on your knees. You lean over and take his face in your hands and squish his cheeks to make his lips protrude.

“Let me talk to him.”

You’re gentle yet firm and he can’t resist it when you take charge.

He’d call it unfair but you’d say it how it is: strategic.

He reluctantly rolls his eyes back and you let go of his face, leaning back to rest on your knees.

You know it’s Steven when his eyes are doe-like and he looks at you with uncertainty.

“Welcome back.” You greet cheerily.

“Why do you want to talk to me?”

His tone makes you feel bad, like it’s an inconvenience for you to speak to him.

His hands are in his lap and his eyes land on the coffee table in his line of sight.

“Well, I’ve never met you in all my time of being Mrs. L/n-Spector.”

He nods but still refuses to make eye contact.

“Steven?” You murmur.

Said man tentatively meets your eyes and you offer a sympathetic smile.

“Look, I don’t mean to overstep and make you upset but I don’t believe Marc means to be so…”

You don’t want to call him jealous and risk never seeing this delightful man again.

“Possessive?” He tries.

You give him a pointed look and smile, letting him know that you feel the same.

“You said it, not me.” You chuckle.

A smile of his own grows and he feels himself growing fond of you by the second.

“It’s embarrassing.” He says.

“What is?”

He gulps. “Well, I think you’re quite lovely but saying I ‘have a crush’ on you seems a bit childish.”

Steven fiddles with the hem of his shirt and you nod.

“I don’t know, I think it’s cute.”

You’re not entertaining him and you’re not saying you’re in love with him.

You’ve thought about it before and even brought it up to Marc.

Being married to him is a commitment you’re making to him.

What about the other two men he hides inside?

It’s not like you and him can ignore them, they’re a part of his life and were there way before you.

Marc thought you were joking but he also thought about introducing you to them. Well, until Steven showed interest. Then it became all too real.

Steven looks at you with hope and you can’t help but find him adorable.

“Marc says to stop flirting or he’ll banish me forever.”

You guffaw at that, not believing he’d go against your wishes. “No, I don’t think so.”

Steven’s eyebrows jump up slightly, truly questioning how much influence you have over a man like Marc Spector.

Then again, you are his wife.

The next morning is quiet. Too quiet.

Your arm stretches over to feel Marc’s body but you don’t. The sheets are cold and serve as a stark contrast to the warmth you felt prior.

Maybe he has some urgent work.

You freshen up and pad to the kitchen when you see a kettle and smell an aroma that excites you.

There’s a yellow sticky note on the side of the kettle that reads, It’s my favorite as well with a smiley face drawn on the bottom.

You look inside and aren’t disappointed to find your favorite tea inside.

“Ugh. He’s so sweet.” You gush quietly to yourself.

Later that night, you’re waiting up on Marc to come to bed.

You’ve done your nighttime routine and are snug in bed when you hear the door creak open.

“Babe?” You call out.

You don’t get an answer and so, you stand up to turn the light off and are alert with a metal bat.

You hear the footsteps pad to your direction and are met with a familiar silhouette.

“You scared me, you asshole.”

Annoyed, you put the bat up and turn on the lamp light on your bedside but pause when you see the partially illuminated figure.

Your breath is caught in your throat at the sight of his eyes.

The eyes, you notice, are the one part of his body that will always betray him.

His body language and facial expressions are calculated, along with his mind. But the eyes show what he’s really thinking inside.

“You’re not Marc.” You observe.

You hear the man before you sigh and he slides his cap off.

His knuckles turn white from how tight he’s gripping it but it doesn’t reveal what he’s thinking.

It’s the first time you don’t know.

“Go to sleep.” His gruff voice sounds.

You’re taken aback by the roughness in it but by using context clues, you know this is Jake.

Your lips part from surprise at how you so easily follow his instructions.

Is this how Marc feels?

You have your eye on him as you lift up the blanket and step inside, letting the bat rest against the wall and bed frame.

He’s scarily still, you’d think he’s a standing corpse if it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest.

He’s stiff yet swift in his movements, ready to leave you be.

“Jake?”

He stops with his feet outside the door, turning his head to where you can see his side profile.

You take his silence and side profile as a sign to continue.

“Good night.”

He tips his head down once as a silent nod to your farewell.

He mutedly says it back, you almost don’t hear it.

He shuts the door and you take the silence to yourself to let this experience settle down.

You just met Jake. Without any begging, without any coaxing. He allowed himself to be shown to you and even bid you good night.

You giggle to yourself unbeknownst to the fact that Jake is listening.

A ghost of a smile is on the tip of his lips and he holds the amusement in as he walks to the couch, preparing to rest for the night.

He dreams of you and it’s slow, lasting and blue.

[jmliebert]

Scent of Seduction᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Summary: Halsin finds himself captivated by Tav, the feeling is mutual, of course. Their journey is full of danger and desire. Despite Halsin's internal struggle between primal instincts and duty, their mutual attraction intensifies. When Tav is in heat, their passion ignites... and well... let's just say things get steamy.

smut with (a little bit of) fluff?

Word count: 2,900

Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, heat, knotting, breeding, shameless smut

Warnings: explicit content (18+)

Author's note: today my demons won. sorry guys, but I was thinking about it for the longesttttt time 

also! you can read this on ao3 if you prefer it that way ♡

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

The first time Halsin saw you, he was in his bear form. Held captive in the dark cellar, surrounded by goblins; such lowly creatures. He was helpless and angry, but then he caught a scent of something, or rather someone's scent. Someone who surely didn’t belong there, and that person was you. His ears perked up, intrigued. His muzzle watered a little, your scent being so delicious. But he didn’t want to eat you, of course. His hunger was of a different kind, you see.

At the camp, Halsin could sense you. He felt it in his flesh when you weren’t near. His mind and body grew restless, but it wasn’t only that. When he saw you talking to Wyll or Gale, laughing with them and sharing stories, he felt those sudden pangs of something he hadn’t felt for the longest time; jealousy. He was far too old for that, or so he thought. His heart wasn’t one to stir easily, but with you...it was different. He clenched his jaw unconsciously at the thought of you being with other males. He couldn’t stand this, but he shook his head, ignoring the feeling for now, as he had different matters to attend to.

Yet, his eyes followed you with longing each time you were close.

During the Tiefling Party, it took all the strength he had to reject your rather obvious seductions. You were absolutely sweet, your cheeks flushed from wine, your eyes sparkly and playful. It was a delight to see you so happy and carefree, the hero of the night, the center of attention. You were shining, and despite having so many people to choose from, your eyes found his. Halsin's chest swelled with pride at the thought, but he had to remain composed. That's why he didn’t drink that night; a calculated move on his part, as he feared he might say something he shouldn't have. Halsin already knew he had a certain weakness towards you, and alcohol would only fuel that. In no time, he would confess his feelings for you, saying you were made for each other, that his body and soul yearned for you. He would say he wanted to protect you and love you for eternity, and when he told you that you laughed, thinking he was exaggerating, but he wasn't. It was the truth and his words towards you would be sincere. Then, if he really got carried away and his alpha brain would win over him, he would not let you go until he marked you and pushed his semen deep into your womb. Continuously.

And he knew you for only a few hours at least, and you had a world to save, and he had his duties, and you deserved more than that—you deserved to be courted, to be worshipped. Yet, when he told you to enjoy the night with someone else, deep inside he hoped you wouldn’t.

The thought of you with someone else boiled his veins with anger, but what choice did he have? As he thought about it now, he realised he would act differently that night. He would take your hands in his, kiss them gently and ask you to wait for him, but then, it was different. Maybe he was scared? Maybe he wanted to play it cool, not used to having such abrupt feelings towards someone?

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Halsin wakes up in the middle of the night, sensing your absence. With a sense of urgency, he stands up and follows your scent. You're not in your usual spot. He finds you at the lake, bathed in moonlight, your naked form illuminated against the dark water. Your slender back, cascading hair, and the gentle curve of your hips beneath the water's surface captivate him. You look divine, a sight to behold. However, Halsin quickly averts his gaze, feeling it's inappropriate to observe you in such a vulnerable state. Returning to his tent, he finds his body betraying him, his arousal evident in the half-hardness of his dick.

Oh, how he longs to draw nearer to you, grasp your waist from behind and draw you closer to his body, making you feel his growing arousal pressing against you. Showing you how much he wants you, how much he needs you. He would groan to your ear, bite your neck and take you here and there, as nature intended. But you are not his to claim, he reminds himself sternly, over and over again, resisting the urge to succumb to his primal instincts.

But that was about to change when you left the Shadow-Cursed Lands. He was finally free from responsibilities, finally free to follow his heart's desires, and you quickly noticed this sudden transformation of his. As you traveled together, Halsin seemed drawn to your side, even unconsciously. He sought to protect you from any danger, always ready to lend a hand when needed. You noticed him finding excuses to be near you, to touch you, to engage in conversation. His gaze lingered on you, his presence felt even when he walked behind you. During campfires, he sat close, his body language open and inviting, his thigh brushing yours. Though he laughed and talked with others, his eyes always found their way back to you, his attention unwavering when you spoke. It made you feel shy, this whole-hearted attention Halsin gave you, but undeniably it made you feel appreciated.

Yet, you couldn't shake the memories of your early encounters. After he helped you battling those goblins, covered in blood and exuding raw power, you felt a shiver run down your spine. He appeared strong and imposing, igniting something within you. But when you approached him with openness and willingness at the Tiefling Party, he rejected you, leaving you feeling foolish. You had hoped for mutual feelings or at least some acknowledgment, but for most of your journey, he offered only polite smiles and lukewarm courtesy. Why the sudden change now?

Don’t get me wrong, you basked in the glory of his attention, relishing in those small smiles meant only for you. But amidst the warmth of his gestures, doubts crept into your mind. Weren't you worthy of his notice before? Yet, you quickly brushed aside those thoughts, focusing instead on the present. Halsin cared for you deeply now, ensuring you were fed, rested, and shielded from the sun's harsh rays. He showered you with little gifts; wildflowers plucked from the roadside, stones with intriguing shapes and colours, and delicately carved wooden ducks. There was no mistaking his intentions; Halsin was courting you, with patience and respect. Your heart raced at the thought, eagerly anticipating his next move. You pondered what the future held, though you never could have imagined what was to come.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

You found yourself in heat as soon as you arrived at Baldur's Gate. It was as if your body had finally released the tension accumulated during your harrowing journey through the Shadow-Cursed Lands. After witnessing so much death, roughly cut body parts and darkness, your body sought solace within the safety of the Elfsong Tavern, nestled behind the town walls.

Despite the late hour, neither you nor Halsin slept. Instead, you reveled in each other's company, cuddling on the sofa with the soft glow of the fire casting gentle shadows around you. Halsin held you close, his strong arms enveloping your body, and then he cupped your head, drawing you nearer for what would be your first kiss. As his lips met yours, a haze descended over your mind, and you found yourself yearning for more. You were waiting for so long.

You eagerly shifted positions, settling onto his lap, deepening the kiss with a hunger you couldn't contain. Halsin chuckled softly, his fingers pressing against the sides of your body possessively. You gasped at the sensation, feeling a sudden warmth between your legs as your pants grew damp. Panic surged through you—no, it couldn't be.

"I'm sorry, Halsin, I can't right now," you managed to say as you swiftly freed yourself from Halsin's embrace and fled to your bedroom. You needed space, distance from him until you could gather your thoughts.

His kiss and the sudden rush of emotions triggered your heat, overwhelming you with fear and confusion. You buried your face in your pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks as you struggled to make sense of what was happening.

Morning brought a gentle knock at your door, and you knew it was Halsin. He had been there all night, waiting patiently for you. "My love, let me in," his voice was soft, tinged with concern. When silence greeted his words, he spoke again, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his tone. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, never," you replied, your heart aching at the thought that he might blame himself. "I just don't feel well," you confessed through tears, your voice muffled by the pillow.

"Whenever it is, I'm confident I can help you, my darling," his words were sincere and full of worry. You were clearly in distress, and he felt he should be at your side, not here, behind these closed doors. "Just let me in," Halsin pleaded, his forehead touching the wooden surface in resignation.

You wished he was here too. When you saw his shadow at the door, your heart ached with longing. You were scared he would think poorly of you, scared of losing control to the heat. You hadn't known each other for long, and perhaps it was too soon for him to see this side of you. But at the same time, you were devastated at the thought of being without him. Unsure of what to do, you began to cry, and when Halsin heard your sobs, he couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm going in!" he declared, his voice resolute as he forced the doors open. As soon as he entered the room, he clasped a hand over his mouth. There you lay on the bed, naked, the room dimly lit by the morning sun filtering through closed curtains. The scent of you filled the air, potent and overwhelming. Halsin thought perhaps you had second thoughts when you kissed for the first time, maybe things had moved too quickly, but he certainly wasn't expecting this. 

His dick twitched. You were in heat, he realised. "Oh, Tav..." You looked so lost and uncomfortable, your body covered in sweat, your eyes watery. All he wanted to do now was to take you in his arms and never let go.

"Halsin, I feel so hot I can't breathe. Touch me, please," you said, your voice laced with need. Halsin was there in the split of a second, responding to your plea without hesitation.

He took you in his arms, placing you on his lap, and you moaned, the sound emanating from deep inside you. As your bodies touched, you couldn't understand why you had pushed him away before, when you kissed for the first time. He felt like he was made for you, and you for him. Thoughts swirled in your mind as he held you close, his hands roaming all over you, his head buried in your neck, sniffing and then licking with long strokes, revealing in your delicious scent.

You began to grind on his thighs, your pent-up arousal needing release. Desperation fuelled your movements. Halsin placed his rough, large hands on your hips, guiding and assisting your grinding motion. In seconds, you reached climax, moaning and gasping. But it wasn't enough. The heat subsided for just a brief moment. Afterwards, you were ready for more. You wanted Halsin deep inside your wet and willing pussy.

You took his hand in yours and guided him to your heated entrance. "I need you here, Halsin," you whispered urgently.

"And you will have me, my love," he assured, his voice thick with desire.

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Halsin quickly took off his clothes. And that’s how you saw his dick for the first time. It was huge, but somehow you suspected it will be. He seemed pleasantly heavy. He was already oozing pre-cum and fully erect. Ready for you.

You lay on your back as he returned to the bed, your legs parted, inviting him in. Slick all over your inner thighs and your entrance, guiding the way. He didn’t even need to finger you. You were perfectly ready. Ready as he was. 

Halsin kissed you passionately, causing your body to tremble with the intensity of the sensation. Every ounce of his desire and affection towards you was conveyed in that tender gesture.

"Halsin, please…" you moaned, your hips moving eagerly, your body yearning for more. His arousal at your entrance heightened your senses, driving you to the brink of madness. With a single swift motion, he guided himself inside you, and as he entered, you felt a rush of ecstasy that illuminated your senses like stars in the night sky. A scream of pleasure escaped your lips, echoing in the room, while he grunted softly in your ear, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought to maintain control. It was a challenge to remain composed when you felt so incredibly tight and warm around him. The urge to climax threatened to consume him, but he resisted, knowing that this moment was all about you. In this vulnerable state, you entrusted yourself to him, and he vowed to cherish you, to prioritise your pleasure above all else. You were his priority, and he would savour every moment with you. 

As Halsin began to move, his motions were deliberate and measured, each thrust a testament to his desire to please you. One hand caressed your full breast, while the other gripped your thigh, spreading you wider to accommodate him. The sight of you, so beautiful and lewd, whimpering each time he showed his dick deep inside you, elicited a primal desire within him. Every whimper that escaped your lips drove him further, his arousal building with each thrust. He couldn’t help but look at your exquisite, smooth pussy swallowing him over and over again.

"You are so good to me," Halsin murmured, his voice soft and filled with admiration, as he brushed a sticky strand of hair from your forehead before pressing a tender kiss to your skin.

As Halsin placed his thumb on your clitoris, his touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. With deft circular movements, he quickened his pace, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. In response, you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, craving the feeling of his muscles against yours, yearning for the weight of his body upon you.

His hard, deliberate strokes combined with the stimulation of your clitoris pushed you over the edge once more, eliciting another powerful climax. "Yes, yes, yes," you repeated, the words tumbling from your lips as your back arched and your inner muscles clenched in pleasure.

"Good girl," Halsin praised, his voice filled with satisfaction and pride. So responsive to his touch.

At this point, Halsin felt himself teetering on the edge of control. Sensing his impending release, he quickened his pace even further, his movements growing more urgent as his knot began to form. With each thrust, his desire to breed you, to fill you with his seed, consumed his thoughts entirely. He wanted nothing more than to hear you scream in pleasure beneath him.

As his movements became more erratic, more sloppy, he whispered urgently against your neck, "I need you to come for me one more time," his voice strained with desire. The sound of his groans mingled with yours, creating a symphony of pleasure as his flesh moved against yours in a passionate rhythm. In that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of utter pleasure being in his arms, being taken by him, feeling his knot pressing against your entrance.

As his knot fully formed, Halsin pushed it into you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from both of you. With three final, powerful thrusts, he released himself inside you, his loud moans reverberating through the room. In response, you screamed in ecstasy, your body convulsing with pleasure as you reached your third climax.

You took his knot so well, and he felt an intense rush of satisfaction as he emptied himself deep inside you. His dick, engorged and throbbing, remained buried in your tight, eager pussy, his knot ensuring that his seed would stay where it belonged. In that moment of shared bliss, you both relished the sensation of being joined so intimately, lost in the throes of passion and desire.

With Halsin lying on top of you, his weight pressing down on your smaller frame, you felt a sense of pure bliss wash over you. His presence enveloped you, providing a comforting sense of security. As he remained inside you, filling you completely, you relished the sensation of being pleasantly stretched by his size.

You never wanted him to leave your pussy, not even for a moment. The thought of his knot disappearing, signalling the end of this intimate connection, made you want to cry. But for now, he was still with you, his body pulsing with each release of his seed. You felt his warmth spreading inside you, filling your belly, and you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of being completely claimed by him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

thank you so much for reading !

you can find more of my works about bg3 ♡here♡

[elixirfromthestars]

Lines Crossed

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (College AU)

Summary: You and Bucky have danced around the lines you've placed ever since that weekend camping trip. Months later, when Tony Stark hosts an extravagant party, he finally makes a move to cross them.

Word Count: 9.3k

Warning(s): 18+ mdni / drinking / jealousy / forced proximity / smut / female reader / drunk jerk (stranger) / tension / will they won't they oh they will 🫣❤️‍🔥 / sex w/protection / pet names / sprinkles of possessive + protective Bucky so be prepared / there's a build-up so enjoy ❣️

Prompt: oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck

a/n: Please be kind this is my first time writing something like this. 🥺🩶 I decided to challenge myself and join @mercurial-chuckles‘ smutty September fest. A tad late on the deadline because Hurricane Helene decided to take the power out. 😭 This is a standalone fic, but you can most definitely read it (and is intended to be) as a continuation of the events of A Night of Frights & Delights. Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! ❤️❤️

part one backstory // divider // ambiance 🤍

You step into the foyer of the Stark Manor, a grand staircase greets you, its golden railing glowing underneath an ornate chandelier. Various guests mingle around the manor, the buzz of conversation accompanying the music that pulses throughout. Everything about the sight in front of you screams old wealth and elegance. 

Your eyes scan the luxurious home with an expression of awe. Despite being invited before, you had never come to one of Tony’s parties. Choosing the comfort of your bed and your favorite show instead. However, this time knowing a certain captain of the baseball team would be here—and your history with him—well you just had to come. 

As you take it all in, your gaze locks on a pair of beautiful blues. The very same ones you were thinking of all day. And by the way he was looking at you, you knew he was awaiting your arrival just as much as you had been waiting to see him. 

There was no denying he most certainly had been. 

Bucky had arrived about half an hour earlier with some of his teammates. His impatience grew by the second at your absence. He was dying to see what you wore for the party. You denied him any sneak peeks, which only fueled his excitement. He tried distracting himself by greeting anyone he could and making conversation, but he continuously gravitated to the foyer, waiting for the moment you stepped in through those doors. 

When you finally did, Bucky knew with the utmost certainty that the wait was worth it. When his eyes met yours you knocked the air straight out of his lungs with the black dress you were wearing. The satin dawning your body accentuated your silhouette perfectly—and the high slit at your right leg showed off the right amount of skin. The way you did your hair and your makeup complimented you perfectly, and Bucky was losing his goddamn mind because of it.  

Sincerely, he was close to whisking you away and keeping you all to himself. 

You looked nothing short of beyond stunning. Bucky had been holding back for months, staying within the lines you drew that night in the tent, and honestly, he deserved a medal for that. It’s the hardest thing he's ever done. What he felt for you couldn’t measure up to anything else in his life. Never had he felt so over the moon in his feelings for anyone. Yet, you brought on those sentiments by just being you. He was sure if he wasn’t in love with you yet, he was damn near close to it. 

And right now, seeing you in that dress, his mind is going to places it shouldn’t. Places that only belonged to him and his bed on those nights you left him wanting more. Thoughts and scenarios where the night ends with him tearing that dress right off you and showing you just how serious he is about wanting you. 

He’s not so sure he can be on his best behavior tonight. 

Bucky discards the drink he had been holding and saunters over to you. Your heart races in your chest when you see the way his blues darken when he rakes his eyes over your form—shamelessly drinking you up. You take in his figure as well, the all-black suit giving him an aura of class and sophistication that was stirring something dangerous within you. 

Bucky cleaned up good, real good.

He stops a mere foot away from you, his eyes twinkling with intentions both of you long for. You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until his voice broke you out of your trance. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you leave my side tonight, not in that dress,” Bucky’s voice is deeper than usual, contrasting the charming grin on his face. You roll your eyes playfully, “I don’t need a babysitter, Bucky,” you reply amused at the thought. Having Bucky by your side all night would definitely lead to you two enjoying each other’s company in other ways. 

Not that you would object if it did. 

Bucky’s hand reaches out to touch you, your heart skipping a beat as he adjusts the strap of your dress on your shoulder. His touch lingers for a second more as a light chuckle escapes him. “Maybe not you sweetheart, but I might. Someone’s going to have to keep me in check tonight. I already have a hard enough time keeping my hands off of you and now you walk in looking like a masterpiece and I'm supposed to keep my hands to myself?” He bites his bottom lip for a moment, almost as if to stop himself from saying too much. 

“Something tells me you’re going to lay it on thick tonight, aren't you?” You tease him, all the while your body thrums with the way he compliments you. Bucky always knows exactly what to say to make you feel like the only girl in the room. An effortless gift he had only when it came to you.

“Can you blame me, baby? You walk in and suddenly it's like no one else exists,” his tone is softer, yet serious when he says this. Your heart skipped a beat when he called you baby. The weight of his attention felt in every fiber of your being. Bucky only ever called you baby when he wanted to really affect you. Reminding you of the pull he had over you.  

The spell you two were under was suddenly broken by Darcy, who rushed over to where you were standing and linked your arm with hers. “Sorry! I’m going to steal her away for a bit there Bucky!” She says unapologetically as she tears you away from the man who looks like he could have devoured you if your friend hadn't interrupted. Your protests fall on deaf ears so you're left waving a small—but not definite—farewell to Bucky. 

It seemed Bucky’s friends had been waiting for the right moment to steal him away too. As soon as you were in another room Sam and Steve went up to Bucky and dragged him to whatever antics the baseball team was up to. His disappointment matches yours, but if there was one thing he had proven all these months was that he had a lot of patience. He knew you two would end up crossing each other’s paths more than once tonight. It was only a matter of time. 

“You forgot you promised to stick by my side tonight. My ex is here, I need the support,” Darcy reminds you with a slight pout. She looks like a ball of fire with the way she pulls you through the crowd in her crimson dress. Her eyes dart to every guest looking to avoid her ex at all costs.

“I didn’t forget. I was just saying hi to a friend,” you explain emitting a snort from Darcy, “A friend? If he’s just a friend than I’m the Queen of England.” You roll your eyes, a small huff of a laugh leaving your lips. Darcy wasn’t wrong. You and Bucky weren’t just friends, but you also weren’t anything more—and that was by your account. 

You and Bucky have fallen into a grey area of what you are to each other. At first, after the camping trip, you tried avoiding him. Not because what happened upset you—but because you couldn’t trust yourself around him after that. Making out with him in that tent made you realize that what you thought had been an annoyance towards Bucky was actually the beginning of a deep-rooted crush. One that bubbled to the surface after that night. 

Avoiding him altogether was an impossible task when he lived in the other apartment in the duplex you rented. Especially after he insisted on giving you rides back and forth from campus with the excuse that now that you two were friends it's only natural for him to be more friendly. By his definition, it also included things like buying you food on days he knows you’ve been too busy to get something for yourself, walking you to your classes whenever he has the chance, and going with you to art exhibitions to dabble in your passion with you. 

Oh, and it also included kissing you mercilessly during tutoring sessions. 

Around the time that fall semester began, Bucky asked you if you could tutor him on a few subjects. He hadn’t done the greatest academically last semester and he wanted to keep his grades up before baseball season started. You were hesitant at first, but ultimately gave in when you realized how sincere he was about needing the help. 

Tutoring Bucky meant spending lots of time with him after classes. The sessions were innocent at first, but after the first time kissing on your bed, Bucky made it a tradition to have his lips on yours, and his hands wandering your body at every session. He even stopped hosting parties at his place, preferring being in your room and getting drunk on the taste of you. 

Bucky was too infatuated by you to ever want to do anything else. Studying was an afterthought whenever you were around, and yet he was doing better than he ever had before in all his classes. Being someone you could be proud of was honestly the best motivation he could ask for. 

Deep down you knew you were falling for him. There was a bit of apprehension on your part as you hadn’t known Bucky to ever have a girlfriend. From what you can remember, ever since you’ve known him, he was the kind of guy who preferred flirting and casual encounters. And there was no guarantee you would be the one to break that. So to keep yourself safe you drew those lines—built those walls up high to guard your heart. Bucky respected those lines and never crossed them. No matter how badly he wanted to. 

Some days, like today, made you want to say screw the lines and just give in to what you desired most. However, when that desire included lowering those walls you put in place, you weren’t brave enough to risk it—so you didn’t. Instead, you and Bucky danced around those lines until it drove you both mad. 

Your thoughts follow you for the next hour as you stay by Darcy’s side. Bucky has this natural way of consuming your mind lately—and your sketchbook. You wish you had it with you right now because when your feelings decide to overflow you channel that intensity onto the paper. For months, every page had been filled with graphite drawings of Bucky. His smile, his eyes, his determined expression when studying, his confident stance during baseball games, and everything else that sparked the creative fire in you. You found a lot of solace in drawing him. 

Bucky was undoubtedly your favorite muse. 

You're so lost in your thoughts you don’t register you’re in the kitchen of the manor until the guests around you cheer. It seems Darcy and Thor have fallen into a friendly competition of sorts to see who could down more shots than the other in one minute. A group of spectators and friends have gathered in the kitchen to watch the showdown go down. Your eyes dart to Jane who only gives you a half-amused, half-exasperated look. She is not looking forward to having to drive those two home later.

Contrary to your friends, you weren’t drinking much tonight. Bucky’s lingering presence at the party was all your senses needed to feel like you were in a daze. For appearances, however, you decide to grab one of the red solo cups to blend in with the rest of those around you. 

“Hey, Y/n! Enjoying the party?” A male’s voice comes from your right and when you turn to see who it is a friendly smile appears on your face. It was Ian Boothby, a fellow art major at your university. You’ve had him in enough of your classes to consider him a friend. 

“Hey, Ian. Yeah, I’m having a good time. Are you?” Your question is a catalyst for a much longer chat with Ian. The two of you fall into light conversation about the semester, art, and other relevant topics. It's a nice breath of fresh air compared to the thoughts that had been consuming you tonight. Especially when he tells you the story of one of his painting mishaps causing you to laugh along with him.

Soon after, a hand snakes its way around your waist, and when you smell that familiar woody muskiness you know exactly who it is. 

“Having fun without me, sweetheart?” Bucky’s voice has a slight edge to it as he speaks, his lips forming a smirk. You face him and the look in his eyes stills you. 

Bucky does not look pleased. 

“Bucky, hey man. How’s baseball prep?” Ian beats you to it by addressing Bucky first. Bucky's eyes flick between you and Ian before he presses you into his side by the hold on your waist. This does not go unnoticed by Ian.

“Boothby, it's going good. How’s the cross-country season treating you?” Bucky asks, his tone giving away how uninterested he is in continuing this conversation. If Ian picks up on the animosity he doesn’t show it as he goes on and on about the sport. Bucky’s impatience grows the more he speaks and his hold on you gets a little more firm. When Bucky’s expression finally gives way to how he genuinely feels Ian finds a way to excuse himself and exit the conversation.

A beat passes before you finally speak, “Ian’s my friend. You didn’t have to scare him off like that,” you say with slight annoyance. Bucky clicks his tongue as he eyes you closely, “I didn’t, but I felt like it,” he shrugs cooly. “Didn't like the way he was looking at you.” He adds, his thumb rubbing small circles on your waist.

“Oh? And how was he looking at me?” 

“Like in the way only I should be.” 

The possessiveness in his voice catches you off guard. The air electrifying around you both at his words. You weren’t going to drink, but you suddenly felt the need to. You take a sip of the substance in your cup, the bitter liquid doing little to ground you. Bucky can tell how he’s affecting you and joins you with his drink. His eyes never leave yours as he gulps some of it down. 

You have to stop yourself from inhaling the entire thing in one go. 

“Ian’s harmless. He’s just comfortable with me because he’s an art major too. I’ve had a lot of classes with him,” you do your best to continue the conversation and ignore the way your body heats up when Bucky gives your hip a possessive squeeze. Massaging the area afterward in gentle strokes.

“You do a lot of bonding over paint?” Bucky’s response is slightly mocking, licking his lips to catch a drop of alcohol that wanted to escape. His eyes twinkle with mischief as he relishes the way you're looking at him now. Your gaze trained on his lips. When you realize he’s noticed, the heat from your body goes straight to your face.

You wouldn’t let him have the upper hand though. Never. 

“Well, when you have to sketch someone’s naked body you obviously become friendly,” your reply causes Bucky to choke on his drink, the hand at your hip falling as he uses it to grab a few napkins from the granite counter behind him to wipe at the mess he made. You hide a wicked grin behind the rim of your cup. 

He narrows his eyes at you, “Excuse me? What does that mean?” He knows what you mean, but he’s giving you a chance to tell him you're joking. He’s not hiding the jealousy that crawls up his spine at your revelation. 

“It means Ian’s a nude model for some of my classes. He may not look like it but underneath those layers, he’s got the most gorgeous—” Bucky cuts you off with a fierce kiss, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you into him. There’s been plenty of times you’ve shut him up with your mouth and it was his turn to return the favor. Because hearing you talk about the naked body of another man gets under his skin in ways he wasn’t used to.  He wasn’t going to just stand there and hear another word of it. 

The kiss catches you by surprise, but soon your drink is discarded in favor of pulling him closer by his blazer. Not caring who sees or what anyone thinks, since it’s the first time you’ve ever kissed in front of others. Your craving for him was far too loud to ignore anymore. Your lips stay locked until your lungs burn begging for air.

Bucky pulls away with a smug smile, his voice an octave lower as he moves to whisper in your ear, “You’re playing with fire, sweetheart. I know you love getting a rise out of me, but just so we’re clear—next time you want to mess with me like that—I’ll make sure you can’t even stand after I’m through with you,” his declaration causes a shiver to make its way up your spine. 

You swallow hard, your mouth opening to say something, but no sound comes out. Bucky lets out a rough chuckle, ghosting his lips against your cheek before pulling away to stare at how speechless he’s left you. He’s blatantly savoring every second of it. 

You want to say something—anything. Something witty or playful, but the thought of him making good on his promise—the image it conjures in your mind—keeps you silent.

“Buck! You’re needed at beer pong! Tony’s team is winning and the bet is up to five hundred,” Steve rushes into the kitchen, breaking through the bubble you two were in. His eyes dart between you and Bucky with a knowing look. He has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling at the sight of you two. 

You start to register there’s still an extravagant party happening around you.  

Bucky sighs with slight irritation as he once again gets his moment with you interrupted. He reluctantly tears his attention away from you to call back to Steve, “I’ll be right there!” Steve nods in approval before going back the way he came. 

Now’s your chance to say something, but Bucky pulls away from your body before you can. A coldness replacing where his touch used to be. “Hold that thought, baby. Looks like my team needs their star player,” he winks at you before placing a tender kiss on your forehead, “you keep thinking about what I said while I’m gone,” he says in a gruff whisper, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip in a barely there touch. 

He knows he needs to leave before he takes this somewhere you can’t go back from. 

Bucky doesn’t give you a chance to say anything as he makes a smooth exit. Heading out of the kitchen in the direction of the beer pong game. Your body prickling with an ever growing sexual frustration. You were embarrassingly close to snatching Bucky away and giving in to all your desires in one of the many rooms of the manor. 

“You two need to get a room,” Jane seems to read your mind as she teases you. Appearing from behind you once Bucky was no longer in sight. You can’t deny her words, letting out a small huff, “I don’t know what good that would do. I’ve been clear about not wanting to take things further.” You explain to her, not sure if you could go back on your words for the sake of giving in to what you want now. Jane has had this conversation with you a few times before, and it appears she's hit her limit today. 

 “That man is absolutely head over heels for you. How can you not see that?” Jane shakes her head at you, wondering how she can make you realize what you already know yet deny. There's a vulnerability that overcomes you when you reply, “It’s not that I don’t see it. I just—I’ve never seen him be serious about anyone. The only thing he’s ever serious about is baseball.” Jane looks like she’s about to do something drastic at your denial. 

“Y/n, Bucky is serious about you. He’s literally all about you—he’s chosen you over baseball many times. I’m not around him like you are and even I can see it clear as day. Do you know Thor and like half of the baseball team thinks you two are secretly dating? Stop denying what you know deep down is true and just give in—be happy,” Jane tells it like it is, her tone leaving no room for argument or denial. 

For so long Bucky has shown you another side of him—one not many get to see. He’s given you priority and importance when he didn’t have to. Care and consideration when you needed it most. A shoulder to lean on and a steady support to rely on. Time and time again Bucky has demonstrated how much you mean to him.

Perhaps, you both have been something more to each other for a long time and Bucky’s kept his wishes at bay to make sure things developed at your pace. 

When it finally hits you, you almost feel exposed by how skillfully Jane can read you. At how easily she can see the situation for what it is and not for what your worries twisted it to be. If Bucky had made it clear to you how he felt, what was stopping you from taking things further than they had been before?

At this point, nothing, nothing was stopping you but yourself.

This realization follows you to the dance floor. A very drunk Darcy had pulled you to it along with Jane, babbling tipsily after losing the drinking competition to Thor. You had never seen a living room with such high ceilings before or enough room to host a makeshift dance floor and a DJ booth. The living space had been stripped of its furniture and supplied with top-notch equipment to make it resemble the inside of a club. 

At least in the near darkness, it resembled one.

You’re in a huddle of your closest friends, all of them letting the music guide their movements to their heart’s content. You sway absentmindedly, so you're not merely standing there awkwardly. The kaleidoscope of party lights strobe and kiss your skin with an array of colors as the music thumps around your body. 

A loud cheer catches your attention, the source of the sound coming from a table on the far left end of the room. Tony and his friends were boisterous as they made a shot against their opponent's team in beer pong—Bucky’s team. You had a clear view of it all from where you stood. 

Bucky’s team seems to be taking turns on who drinks every time Tony’s team makes a shot. They look amongst themselves until Bucky steps up and chugs the liquid in the red solo cup. It's like he can feel the shift in the air because as soon as the cup is away from his lips his eyes scan the space and find you, and suddenly it's like you two are the only two people in the room. 

You want him—all of him. You enjoy the teases, the banter, the back and forth, but you know you’d enjoy calling him yours more. 

The music picks up in tempo as your boldness grows. Keeping your eyes trained on him, your hips begin to sway provocatively, tempting him to say screw the game and make his way towards you instead. Bucky’s not even paying attention to the game anymore his eyes soaking up your every move as it fans the flames of desire between you. The atmosphere around you buzzes as the ground shakes due to the sea of dancing bodies, and yet nothing thrums within you more than your need for Bucky. 

The little show you’re putting on for him continues as you roll and wave your body in ways that seduce him. Ghosting your hand along the curves and dips of your figure showing him exactly where you’d like his hands to be. Bucky’s mind is reeling with everything he wants to do to you and none of it involves the dance floor and all of it involves you and him in some private corner of the manor where he can show you exactly what his hands are capable of. 

You are making it impossibly hard for him to concentrate on anything else. 

Slowly and with shady intentions a group of drunk guys circle the huddle of you and your friends like vultures. Finding their way to snake themselves into any corner or crevice they can fit into. Their bodies bumping and grazing against yours. There’s one guy in particular that has his sights set on you. Getting closer to you on the dancefloor and creeping his hands along your waist. You swat his hands away, but he doesn’t disperse immediately. The alcohol on his breath fanning your face causing you to gag. The more you dismiss him the more adamant he was about keeping you close to him. 

Almost instantly, a protective grip pulls you away from the drunk guy. A familiar warmth encases you as Bucky pulls you into his chest, your back to him. Your hands find their way to hold his arms to ease the displeasure the drunk had caused.

Bucky glares at the drunk guy, his gaze cold and unapologetic, “Alright, that's enough.” The drunk guy sneers, his words slurred, “What the—what’s your problem bro? We’re just—” Bucky doesn’t let him finish, “Shut up. You’re not doing anything. You’ve got two seconds to back off or we’re going to have a problem,” Bucky’s reply is sharp and menacing. He directs it to all the men that had swarmed you and your friends. 

Shifting you so you stand at his side, Bucky steps forward to let the guys know he’s not messing around. Your hold goes to his right arm where you’re watching the exchange unfold anxiously. You hope things don’t escalate, not wanting Bucky to get into a scuffle. You know he can handle himself, but the idea of him getting hurt in any way caused your heart to ache. 

The guys size Bucky up and it seems some of them think they can take him on. Until the strobing lights illuminate Bucky’s darkened gaze enough that in their drunk haze, they finally recognize him as captain of the baseball team. That means that fighting Bucky meant taking on the entirety of the team. And with the way Sam and Steve were looking over to see if they needed to step in, and Thor was already storming over—they knew they didn’t stand a chance.

It was comical the way the drunk men scramble to get away as fast as they could. Muttering incoherences and apologies under their breath. They don’t get far as Tony’s hired security for the night promptly kicks them out. 

Thor comes up to check on everyone, giving special attention to Jane who keeps assuring him she’s fine. You turn to Bucky, who’s already inspecting you to make sure you are alright, “Bucky I—” You almost tell him not to worry, that you had things under control, but in reality, you’re glad Bucky stepped in. 

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, Bucky’s tense demeanor softens at your words. He moves to get a better hold on you, his grip at your waist protective teetering on possessive. 

“You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart. I got you—always,” Bucky’s genuine response makes your heart flutter and your pulse quicken. Your senses are awakened by his proximity, completely enamored with the way he looks at you. 

“Plus, if I’m going to fall for the most beautiful girl in the world, I have to know how to fight right?” Bucky says this like it's the most obvious thing, smirking at the way you don’t hide the smitten grin he elicits from you. There’s a sparkle in your eyes as you stare at him, Bucky’s heart racing at the sight of it.

 “You and your compliments,” you give a breathless laugh, letting your guard down for once and going with the flow. Bucky can sense it. Sense the way there’s a shift between you, the blossoming of something bigger being accepted and not pushed away by you anymore.

“Only for my girl,” he says this like a promise. His right-hand goes up to gently brush against your cheek. You lean into the touch, that same hand cupping your cheek in response. Bucky has never felt more elated knowing that maybe finally you two can go to places he’s only dreamed of. 

“Yours?” You question him playfully, which causes him to chuckle, the sound a low rumble, “You and I both know you are, sweetheart. I told you I had all the time in the world to make you fall for me—and I meant it,” he smiles, an intense fire in his eyes that only accumulates when you respond, “You don’t have to wait any longer, Bucky.”

He wastes no second to connect your lips, kissing you with a loving purpose. His lips have a slightly bitter taste to them from the beer that still lingered there. And yet, the bitterness disappears when one kiss turns into two and then three. His arms encircling you to pull you into his chest, your hands finding their way to the nape of his neck.

Bucky pulls away to ghost his lips against your jaw until his lips brush against your ear, “Those little moves you were doing for me earlier, do them again,” his husky tone sends a shiver down your spine as he tugs you in to dance with him. Your bodies mold to one another, hips swaying in rhythm with the vigorous music. The beat allows you to gyrate and grind in ways that drive him to the edge of his control. 

His hand rests on the small of your back, holding you close, fingers splayed out as if making a silent claim. You can feel the way his gaze burns into you, the air getting hotter making it harder to breathe. Your hands trail up and down his arms as need be. The rest of the party fades away leaving you two alone in this space of this charged energy. Every lingering touch and longing glance is layered with unspoken urges that would soon intensify to the brink of madness. 

“You have no idea what you do to me do you?” 

“I do. I’m not immune to what’s going on between us, Bucky.”

Your body, your voice, the way you plead with your eyes for him to take this further—it causes a stirring within his pants—the fabric getting tighter the longer the dance goes on. He needs to get you away, to get you alone. Bucky needs to satiate this hunger for you that threatens to consume him or he is going to end up doing something Rated R on this dance floor. 

The throbbing between your legs agrees. 

An idea pops into Bucky’s mind when he glances at his group of friends. He increases the volume of his voice so you can hear him over the music, “The baseball team was going to host a game of hide and seek. Should we play?” Playful mischief glimmers in his eyes as he asks you. 

“Hide and seek? Seriously?” You raise a brow, wondering how that was going to work in a mansion full of a million rooms.

“Yeah, come on. It'll be fun,” Bucky draws you away from the dance floor and over to where his friends are mingling and taking a few shots. Steve sees Bucky approach and they have a quick whispered exchange. Your eyes dart between them, curious as to what they're discussing.

“Seems like we’re getting a head start,” he comments to you as he leads you away from the main party and down a few intricate hallways. His hold on your hand is firm, yet careful—almost as if he’s afraid you’ll get lost in one of the many corners of the manor. The thrum of the music fades the further you slip away from the party. Your pulse spikes, both from the adrenaline of the game and the heat that still simmers between you.

Bucky has been to Tony’s parties plenty of times before, so he knows the layout of the manor pretty well. The clicking of your heels along the marble floors echoes at the pace of the beating of his heart. He tries to focus on the expensive artwork that lines the halls instead of the way your hand perfectly fits in his. The artwork is what’s guiding his path through the manor and you are the best distraction he could ask for. 

“Where are we going?” Your voice echoes down the endless hallway. 

“Somewhere no one will find us,” he winks at you, your heart skipping a beat at his words, his pace steady and purposeful as he turns one more corner and slips you two inside a room. You're encased in darkness, blindly feeling for a light switch until Bucky uses the flashlight on his phone to illuminate the space. You faintly make out your surroundings. You seem to be in one of the many guest rooms of the manor. The attention to detail in the room was no short of the attention paid to the rest of the place.

You knew Tony’s family had money, but seeing how they splurged for a mere guest room, meant his family was beyond loaded. 

Bucky whispered something to you, but you didn’t catch it as he took you by the hand and ushered you into the room’s closet, clicking it shut behind him. He reaches up to turn on the small lightbulb to cascade the enclosed space in a soft glow, turning off the flashlight on his phone and putting it in his pants pocket. The tension is now thicker and more palpable in the small space, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.

If you had a dollar for every time you and Bucky ended up in a tight space together, you would have exactly two dollars. While maybe strange, it somehow seemed fitting for you two. 

Bucky steps closer to you, your bodies inches apart, the dim light doing nothing to dull the intensity in his eyes, “Now that I’ve got you here—I think I did a good job with the hiding spot, don't you?” His heated whisper brings your breath to a hitch. 

You have to clear your throat to compose yourself, “I don’t know…We had a whole mansion to hide in, and you chose a closet?” You can’t help but tease him, trying to lighten the unbearable tension. 

“Would you rather go hide in the library? The wine cellar? The arcade?” His voice is dripping with mirth taking another step closer to you. He knows what you're doing, but he’s not going to let the tension die down—not this time.  

“The arcade sounds fun,” you quip, leaning back against the wall. 

“Hm, maybe, but I prefer the closet. It’s a lot more private and it has its…advantages,” he reaches out to pull your hand up to his lips, planting a soft kiss across your knuckles. You go to use that hand to lightly push at his chest, but he catches it in time and intertwines your fingers instead. Your heart is racing a mile a minute. 

“Maybe the closet isn’t so bad, but these heels…Worst decision I made tonight,” you shift slightly, not meaning to change the subject, but your heels are torturing you. In the quiet of the closet the pain begins to creep up on you, begging to be acknowledged. After hours of walking on them, dancing, and standing overall—your feet were killing you. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stand upright while hiding. 

“Are they hurting you?” 

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Lets get them off then,” Bucky slides his hand underneath your right thigh, eyes locked on yours, as he hikes it up against the outside of his leg. Your hips brush up against his front, your breath catching at the intimacy of the moment. He watches your every reaction as he slides his hand down the underside of your leg until he reaches the strap of your heel. He’s able to undo it effortlessly, relieving you of the discomfort, his fingers grazing your ankle as he slides your right heel off. His every touch leaves heat in its wake. 

“Bucky you really don't have to—” he cuts you off with a soft smile and half-lidded eyes, switching his hold from your right leg to your left one, “I want to, sweetheart. Just let me help, ” he removes the other heel with the same tantalizing tenderness he used for the first one. Putting them to the side where they won’t get in the way.

The relief you feel is immediate.

“Better?” 

“Much.” 

“Good.” 

A moment passes before he speaks, his voice quiet with an underlying devotion, “You don’t get the hold you have on me, do you?’’ His right hand dances along the outside of your thigh while his left plays with the strap of your dress, twirling it between his fingers. The hand at your thigh traces patterns onto it. Trailing intricate swirls across the flesh, along your hips, ascending to your waist, and all the way up to the space between your breasts. The touch lingers there when you let out a soft sigh. 

You honestly forget how to breathe. 

“Say the word and I’m all yours, Y/n,” his voice is rough as his lips ghost against yours—seductively grazing against them. Going so far as licking his lips with an invigorating grin to really drive you crazy.

Bucky is waiting for you to make the deciding move. When you realize this, you throw all caution to the wind, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. You waste no time in granting him access to deepen it. Bucky follows your lead ardently. His hands snake down your body to cup your ass and pull you impossibly close to him. 

Your hands get lost in his hair, a groan rumbling through him at the way you tug at it. You two aren’t sweetly kissing, you're devouring each other. Yearning for the other all night leaves no more room for taking things slow or holding back. You’re both now giving in to what you want most—each other. 

The heat between you intensifies until it crescendos to a boiling point. The aching between your legs imploring you to do something about it. You reach down to tug at the waistband of his pants, causing Bucky to let out a husky laugh. 

“If you want something use your words, sweetheart,” he mutters against your lips, you suppress a groan, “You know what I want. I don't have to say it,” you retort impatiently. Bucky shakes his head, smiling despite himself, “I want to hear you say it,” he dips his head to the crook of your neck, his teeth nipping at the skin. The hands on your ass give it a light squeeze emitting a small gasp from you. You can feel the shit-eating grin on your neck. 

“Bucky….I…” your words are cut off by a soft moan when Bucky’s left hand sneaks its way through the slit of your dress until he reaches the inside of your thighs. He massages the flesh there, his thumb brushing against the hem of your panties. 

Your arousal pools impossibly more, and the lustful haze only increases at the way you feel his hardened cock straining against his pants—right against your hip. 

“Mm? What was that, baby? Couldn’t hear you over those pretty noises you're making,” his every word drips with cockiness. 

“You're insufferable.”

“That’s my girl.” 

Bucky kisses your neck with more fervor. Sucking and nipping at the skin hard enough to leave marks. Your thighs involuntarily close together at the way he calls you his girl. He eases them back apart with his deliberate touches. Kneading the soft flesh in his hands as his breathing goes ragged along your neck, tickling your skin. He was on the brink of losing what little control he had left. 

You suck in a sharp breath, losing what little semblance of control you had left the higher his touch gets. He only goes so far, barely brushing across your clothed cunt to give you a taste of what he can do if you just let him hear it. You were desperate for more and he knew it. 

 “Fuck me, Bucky,” you manage to whimper out, hooking your fingers into his empty belt loops and yanking him towards you. Bucky lets out a low growl at the brief friction, his eyes darkening to an almost unrecognizable color. For a moment, his brain short circuits at your words, processing that you really said that to him accompanied by that alluring sound. He’s heard those sinful noises from you before, but never like this. Never with the assurance of more. 

“Say it again.”

“Bucky, please just fuck me already.”

You don’t have to tell him another time. Bucky crashes his mouth onto yours with a new intensity, mumbling lustful promises into your mouth. How he wants you, how badly he aches to make you feel good, how he yearns for his pretty girl to lose herself with him, and so many more things that make you dizzy. 

He moves to bunch up your dress, hiking it up your legs until it's bundled at your waist. His breathing strains at the sight—your black lacy panties luring him in—his muscles tensing at the growing need to be inside you. His left arm reaches down to hook his forearm under your knee and bring it up to his hip. You wrap that leg around him, steadying yourself on your other foot as you grind against each other. You can feel the way his cock aches to be freed and it causes you to arch deeper into him. Your moans mingle into one, the slight relief overwhelming you. 

Bucky takes his free hand and splays it at the small of your back, offering strong support as your bodies continue to grind against one another. A chorus of moans and yearnful whines erupt from you both. All of the pining and hunger for one another amalgamates into one as you continue to rub against each other. You swallow each other’s sounds, tongues tangling carnally as neither of you leaves any room for air.

“Do you have—?”

“Back pocket. Wallet.”

Your lips barely disconnect at the brief exchange. You reach behind him, patting down his backside until you feel the outline of his wallet in his pocket. You take hold of it and bring it forward. Meanwhile, Bucky decides to leave wet kisses along the valley of your breasts. You can barely contain yourself and your soft moans as you pull out the condom. The wallet almost slips from your grasp as the attention to your breasts causes you to tremble. 

You hold it tighter intending to put it back in his pocket when something catches your eye. In the clear slot where his identification should be is a polaroid picture from the weekend camping trip. You’re in that picture sitting next to Bucky on a couple of logs surrounded by your friends and peers. There’s a bright smile on Bucky’s face, his arm around your shoulder as you make bunny ears behind his head.

You love this picture. You have a copy of it taped to your bedroom mirror back home.

At your stillness, Bucky looks up to see what’s going on. When he notices you staring at the picture, he smiles fondly. " It's the only picture I had of us,” he utters softly, causing a warmth to spread throughout you. You gaze at him in tender awe, marveling at the fact that Bucky is real.

Why had you ever doubted he was anything but yours? 

You kiss him this time with all the unspoken feelings you’ve bubbled up and kept inside. The wallet falls from your hands, but it's no matter as Bucky kicks it to the side with his foot, and shudders at the way your lips claim his. This goes beyond lust. Your heart beats with reason, and that reason is the man in front of you. 

“Bucky, I want this. I want you. All of you,” you whisper passionately, your hands lowering to help him unbutton and unzip his pants, the foil neatly tucked between your fingers. A guttural moan leaves him when you push the layers of fabric down and free his cock, pumping it a few times to get a feel of it. His head falls to your shoulder, sighing softly in a near whine as you tear the foil open and roll the protection down his length. It twitches in your hands, his hips bucking at the contact. 

His arms are preoccupied with keeping you close and steady, so you gently guide him to your center. Moving your panties to the side as he tantalizingly slides along your folds before he slowly enters you. Your mouth goes agape at the sensation while Bucky has to do everything to make sure he doesn’t cum right then and there.

This was so much better than what he had imagined in his dreams. 

It's been too long since you’ve done this and the burn at the stretch causes you to cry out quietly. Bucky peppers your face with sweet kisses and whispers of devotion. Trying to do his best to comfort you as he lets you adjust inch by inch. The hand at the small of your back rubs circles into it with his thumb, your own hands shooting up to grip his biceps for support. 

“I’m not gonna last if you tighten up like that sweetheart,” he hisses a groan at how tightly your walls envelop him. You’re really making it hard for him to not come undone in a short amount of time. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby, just relax for me.”

His gentle words are accompanied by thrusts that are slow with a deliberate purpose. He’s careful with his pace as he wants this to go at whatever speed you need. It takes a bit, but his soft kisses and comforting touches coax the burn away until you're left with the ardent ache of needing more. 

“Faster, Bucky,” you plead breathily. He rests his forehead against yours.“Can you handle it, baby?” His question is full of loving concern, prioritizing your pleasure over everything.

“I can…fuck…please,” you assure him, your leg pulling him in tighter causing him to bottom out. Bucky curses and moans all in one. At your assurance, he picks up the pace of his hips, rocking them against you with a fiery velocity. The lewd sounds bouncing off the walls of the closet in waves. 

He gives it to you exactly how you asked him to. That man would do anything for you—just say the word and its done. 

Bucky is on cloud nine at the way you take him. The way your bodies mold and arch into one another’s like you can’t get enough. As if all you ever needed to consume to live was each other. When he goes to kiss you, you can barely kiss back as you’re too lost in the way he slams into you.

“Fuck, baby, if only you could see yourself. You’re so fucking gorgeous making those pretty expressions for me,” Bucky grunts out, drinking up the sight of your face. A string of mewls leaves your lips at the keen attention he keeps on you. Everything about you right now is a work of art in his eyes he wants framed and kept at his bedside. A constant reminder he’s the one who gets to make you look and feel so damn good.  

“Don’t stop, please don't stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to, sweetheart.” 

Your words egg him on to go harder, causing your back to press tightly against the wall. Hiking your leg just a tad bit higher to thrust into you at another angle. This was the best decision he ever made as he hits the perfect spot within you. One that leaves you clinging onto him desperately as your walls tighten on the brink of release. 

It takes a few more fierce drives into you until your orgasm hits you and you're cumming with a feverish intensity. Moaning Bucky’s name in a euphoric mantra that’s music to his ears. It's what brings him over the edge and he stills at the force of his orgasm, his head collapsing into the dip of your neck as he releases into the condom. 

“My girl. My sweet girl. You feel so good, baby,” Bucky softly whispers against your neck. Planting small kisses as both of you come down from your highs. Your arms wrap behind his neck to embrace him and keep him close to you. Bucky continues to mutter sweet praises along your skin, as your hands thread through his hair tenderly. Both of you steadying your breaths as you come back down to Earth. 

If it weren't for Bucky holding your right leg up, it would've fallen from its position at his hip long ago. You’re even more grateful for it now as your body felt completely boneless. And when he pulls out, its the grip he has on your body that keeps your knees from buckling.

Bucky lifts his head so his gaze locks on yours. His blues are swimming with a vehemence that steals your breath and causes your pulse to race.  

“Y/n, I…I wanted to give you some time. Time to figure things out—to figure out what you wanted. I tried pretending I was okay with pieces of you, but I’m not. I want all of you. I want to be yours,” Bucky confesses with sincerity. You reach out to interlock your hands with his, a floodgate of emotions engulfing you. 

“Bucky—” you start, but he’s not hearing it, afraid you’ll want to go back to a place that would devastate him. “Wait, just hear me out. Everything I ever did was to get you to notice me. From the moment we met there was just something about you that kept pulling me in. And I knew—I just knew I had to get to know you. And then one thing led to another and I fell for you—hard. Now I can’t imagine my life without you. There's only you. It’s always been you. Give me a chance, let me prove it to you every day, that I’m yours. That I have been for a long time,” Bucky’s tone borders on pleading, you give his hands a light squeeze to ease the worry in his features. 

“Bucky you have nothing to prove—”

“Y/n—” 

This time you stop him by clamping a hand over his mouth. 

“Bucky, you have nothing to prove because I’ve felt the same way for a long time. I just fought it for so long out of fear that maybe you weren’t serious about me. But I can see now I was wrong. I’ve been yours for a long time too, Bucky. I just pretended I wasn’t—and I’m done fighting it. I’m done being in denial. I want to have something serious with you. I’m ready for it,” your heartfelt confession immediately melts away the tension in Bucky’s shoulders. 

You wanting this as much as he did made him feel like he was on top of the world.

He mumbles something into your hand, the biggest grin on the other side of it. You laugh adoringly at the sight as you remove your hand to replace it with your mouth instead. Both of you sink into the kiss as a deeper devotion is exchanged. 

“Whoever is seeking is horrible at it,” you remove yourself with a light giggle, taking a jab at whoever the seeker of the hide-and-seek game is. A game that was long forgotten by Bucky until you mentioned it. 

Bucky smiles sheepishly, “About that…there's not actually a hide-and-seek game. And if there is they don't know we’re playing,” he confesses with a twinkle in his eyes. You shake your head at him, laughing in disbelief, “Bucky, then what were you and Steve whispering about?” Your curiosity is met with a boyish grin from Bucky, “I was just letting him know not to come looking for me. I wanted to get some alone time with you,” his hands find your hips again to give them a gentle squeeze.

Bucky is far from done with you yet. 

You roll your eyes lightheartedly at his revelation. Of course, he’d come up with a way to get you all to himself. Can you blame him? 

After a few more stolen kisses and lingering touches, you both start to compose yourselves. Adjusting your outfits and collecting your items from the ground. Thankfully, the guest room has its own bathroom where the two of you can clean up much better than in the small closet. Tousled hair, smeared makeup, and sweaty skin required a deeper attentiveness.

You both take your time in freshening up. The bathroom lighting does wonders to reveal every piece of evidence of your sexual encounter. You can now clearly see all the red marks that would eventually turn into hickeys that scattered your neck and chest. Bucky beams pleased at the markings he’s left as you scold him for making them so prominent. 

Bucky doesn’t give a damn. He’d gladly make more in an instant. 

By the end, all that's left is to get your heels on, which Bucky insists on helping you with. He offered to carry you for the rest of the party or even giving you his shoes, but you declined both options. You paid good money for these heels so whether you liked it or not, you were forcing yourself to wear them. 

Bucky helps you up onto the expansive marble counter. Lowering down onto his knees in front of you to slide your heels back onto your feet. Nimble fingers work the straps into place, making sure they're not too tight at the ankles. When he looks up at you, a devilish grin appears on his face. That spark of desire is back in your eyes when you see how good he looks knelt between your legs. Your mind was reeling with ideas as the heat once again pranced across your skin. Bucky’s gaze bore into yours, almost as if he could read your mind. He can’t help but get turned on again. 

You were in the same boat. 

“You know, I have a big stats test on Monday. I could use an emergency tutoring session right about now,” his tone is laced with suggestion as his fingers trace along your ankle. You hum, “Hm? Do you? I think I could accommodate that.” Your reply gives Bucky the go to start kissing up your legs until he reaches your knees. He never breaks eye contact as he places a tender kiss on each one before standing up and giving that same attention to your mouth.

“Perfect. Let’s get out of here, sweetheart,” Bucky mutters against your lips, the kiss a promise of the fun awaiting you for the rest of the night. Now that the lines were blurred beyond recognition, into something deeper, something real, you were both completely all in. 

[st3f13ily]

☛ Infinity Between Us (Masterlist)

The story of Gojo Satoru meeting you from past to future, beginning till end. The story of both of your life together.

Reader CT

Just so you know, I haven't done much yet, this list is for me to know what I should do next.

I might post some of them not according to the order I put. (idk if you understand that) For example, I might post one of the stories at the adult arc first than the teenage arc.

(Teenage arc || 2006 || Before the mission)

Click, Snap, Capture, Confessed

> In Where You Found a Camera on the Desk.

Sealed Knowledge

> In where a new student transfers to Tokyo Jujutsu High.

Jealousy?? Yeah, Right

> Operation: The art of (not) making you jealous!

Jealousy Tastes like Blue

> What's the perfect Revenge that affects him??

First Date... Kind of?

> Gojo drags you out for a 'mission'

(More coming)

( Teenage Arc || After the Toji incident || Relationship )

Confession under the star

> Gojo finally admits his feelings during a late-night rooftop talk, but he makes it a joke first—because he’s nervous.

A promise we couldn't keep

> After Geto leaves, he comes to you.

Will you be mine?

> You finally accept him to be yours.

Domestic life with the strongest

> You and Satoru shared an apartment, and it's a mix of chaos, laughter, and stolen kisses.

Matching sunglasses and dumb Dates

> Gojo drags you out on ridiculous dates, making you wear matching sunglasses just to embarrass you.

I'm always coming home with you

> Despite the dangers of his job, Gojo promises to always return to you.

Your the only who sees me

> Everyone treats Gojo as the strongest, but with you, he can just be Satoru.

Drunk Proposal

> Everything was good until you showed up late, and found a drunk Gojo Satoru.

Between Duty and Love

> Gojo is forced to choose between his responsibilities and your relationship, and it’s tearing him apart.

( Adult Arc || Years Later || Marriage )

Wedding Planning… with Gojo

> Planning a wedding with the world’s most chaotic sorcerer is a nightmare. He insists on a sky-blue theme to match his eyes.

Cold Feet? Nah, I Just Miss You

>The night before the wedding, Gojo sneaks into your room because "sleeping without you feels weird."

The Wedding of the Century

> Your wedding is grand, chaotic, and full of love. Gojo can’t stop grinning, and when you walk down the aisle, he actually goes speechless.

Honeymoon Love

> He planned the best honeymoon!! Except something goes not according to plan.

Waking Up as Mrs. Gojo

> Your first morning as newlyweds, where Gojo refuses to let you get out of bed. "We’re married now, you’re stuck with me forever."

Gojo vs. House Chores

> Married life means Gojo attempting chores, only to make things worse. He declares war on laundry but loses.

Cooking with Gojo

> After that laundry accident, he decided to surprise you by cooking you dinner.

Cuddle Monster

> Gojo’s clinginess increases by 1000% after marriage. He constantly invades your personal space, even while you work.

Surprise Date Night

> Gojo randomly kidnaps you for a spontaneous, over-the-top date. "Marriage shouldn’t be boring, Mochi!"

Jealous? Me? No Way

> Even as a husband, Gojo gets jealous when someone flirts with you, but he plays it off—until he drags you away with a smirk.

Arguments and Apologies

> Your first real fight as a married couple, where Gojo sulks like a child but makes it up to you in the sweetest way.

Sick Days with Gojo

> When you catch a cold, Gojo dramatically declares himself your personal nurse. Spoiler: he’s bad at it, but he tries.

Are you better?

> Gojo needs you.

The Moment He Finds Out

> You tell Gojo the news, even though he already knows, he still tries to hide it and act surprise.

( Adult Arc || Pregnancy )

Gojo’s Overprotective Mode: Activated

> Once he knows you’re pregnant, Gojo refuses to let you lift a single thing, constantly fussing over you.

Talking to the Baby Bump

> Gojo whispers nonsense to your belly, telling the baby how cool their dad is (and how much he loves you both).

Baby Shower and a piece of Shocking news!!

> Where you both decided to do a baby shower.

I Can’t Believe We Made This

> One night, Gojo watches you sleep with his hand on your belly, overwhelmed with love and disbelief.

Shopping for the Baby

> Gojo insists on buying baby sunglasses and a tiny blindfold "for training purposes."

Our Little Family

> As he feels the baby kick for the first time, Gojo realizes that despite everything, this is his happiest moment ever.

I’m Gonna Be a Dad

> Gojo goes around telling everyone, from Nanami to strangers on the street, that he's going to be a dad.

Late-Night Talks About the Future

> One night, Gojo holds you close, whispering all his dreams for your child, his excitement, and his fears.

Cravings & Midnight Runs

> Gojo wakes up at 3 AM to you craving something ridiculous. He teleports across the country just to get it.

Mood Swings & Emotional Gojo

> Pregnancy hormones hit hard, and Gojo struggles when you cry over the smallest things. He panics every time, trying to fix it.

Hearing the Heartbeat

> At the first ultrasound, Gojo actually tears up hearing your baby’s heartbeat. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time.

The First Kick

> When he finally feels the baby kick, Gojo freezes, eyes wide, before breaking into the biggest grin. He brags about it for weeks.

Dancing in the Living Room

> One quiet evening, Gojo sways with you, hands on your belly, humming a song and whispering how much he loves you.

Doubt & Reassurance

> One night, Gojo confesses his fear of not being a good father. You remind him that he’s already the best husband, and he’ll be the best dad too.

A week before birth

False Alarm!

> You have a Braxton Hicks contraction, and Gojo freaks out, teleporting you to Shoko in full panic mode.

Can We Name Them After Me?

> Gojo jokingly suggests names like "Satoru Jr." and "Satoru II." You refuse. The debate continues for the whole day.

The birth

10:47 pm - Your water breaks, and Gojo loses it, teleporting you to the hospital in a full-blown panic.

12:34 am - During labour, Gojo stays by your side, holding your hand and whispering encouragement even though you threaten to break his fingers.

2:14 am - The moment Gojo holds your child for the first time, his usual goofy self disappears, replaced by pure, unfiltered love.

2:59 am - Gojo watches you cradle your baby, whispering, "We did it. We made something so perfect."

( Adult Arc || Family || Kids )

Double the trouble, Double the love

> Finding out you’re having twins was a shock, but Gojo? He celebrated like he won the lottery. "Two babies? That means two times the awesomeness!"

Dad Mode Active

> Gojo swears he’ll be the best dad ever—until he realizes how tiny and fragile newborns are. "WHAT IF I ACCIDENTALLY BREAK THEM?!"

Sleep? What's that?

> Gojo insists he’ll handle nighttime duty… then immediately regrets it when both twins start crying at 3 AM.

First word?

> You and your beloved husband Satoru Gojo have been fighting for weeks for your twins first words.

Mini Sorcerer Training

> Gojo starts training them early, letting them wear tiny blindfolds for fun.

Gojo VS Baby Food

> He insists on feeding the twins himself. It ends with more food on him than in their mouths.

Prank Team

> Your daughter has inherit your husband chaotic energy and starts playing prank on everyone, including you.

Papa’s Biggest Fans

> They follow Gojo everywhere, giggling whenever he lifts them onto his shoulders like tiny royalty.

Overprotective Gojo, But Worse

> The first time the twins get sick, Gojo goes into full panic mode and calls Shoko every five minutes.

First Day of School Meltdown

> Gojo doesn’t want to let them go, hugging them dramatically at the school gate.

Teacher Gojo?!?

> Gojo insists on helping with their homework but just ends up making them laugh with nonsense explanations.

Sports Day, But Make It Over-the-Top

> Gojo teleports across the field to cheer them on, embarrassing your son and you.

Gojo vs. Parenting Styles

> You set rules. Gojo? He lets the twins eat sweets before dinner and calls it "an experiment."

Bedtime Stories by Papa Gojo

> He makes up the most ridiculous bedtime stories, often starring himself as "the strongest and coolest dad."

Father-Daughter Dance & Protective Dad Mode

> Gojo panics when his little girl gets asked to dance by a boy. "You’re too young for this!"

Satoru Little Clones

> Your daughter is super hyper like your husband Satoru, on the other hand, your son is the polar opposite.

Special Late Nights Talks

> The twins sneak out of bed to sit with Gojo, asking questions about the stars, life, and why his eyes are so special.

The Moment He Realizes They’re Growing Up

> Watching his twins walk ahead, Gojo gets hit with the reality that one day, they won’t be little anymore.

Papa’s Always Here

> A quiet, heartfelt moment where Gojo promises his children that no matter what, he will always protect them.

(More to come)

[ackerlikesmen]

No. Just no.

Annabeth bringing up Rachael when they're in Tartarus is ass backwards.

Girl, you and your boyfriend are trapped in Tartarus (you being ONE of the reasons due to your hubris). A place where misery, STRESS, anger, and evil roam and consume. And what do you decide to do? Bring up Rachael with the intent to stress him out.

What the fuck is wrong with you.

Percy is already stressed, tired, and in pain, and you want to ADD to it.

It has me thinking. Call me dramatic or biased. IDC.

Annabeth wants to hurt Percy.

This pattern has not changed. Before, she hit and kicked him to the point he expected and feared her. She insulted him. When asked to not be called that, she doesn't, and he grows used to it. She judo-flipped him because she was angry at him, but she didn't just flip him. She pressed her knee on his chest, pinning him on the concrete, and threatened him. What makes this worse is that she flips him on his fatal spot knowingly (luckily, he doesn't have it anymore). She makes HIM apologize for what happened despite him being innocent.

On with Tartarus, she tells Percy right after he saves both of their skins never to use that power again. Instead of helping him control it, she demonizes it and forbids him to use it. The lack of gratefulness is astounding. I understand she's afraid, but instead of talking with him, she speaks with Piper, and Piper kind of paints Percy as a monster by saying he needs to be chained. Annabeth is still afraid of Percy.

She agrees with Reyna that Percy is stupid instead of taking up for him. She further insults his intelligence even though she knows he's not stupid.

I can go on and on.

I know certain stans don't like it when I or others criticize Annie and 'paint her as a villain!' but seriously... Annabeth does that herself. It's not like I'm misconstruing things or Annabeth's being held at gunpoint. She CHOSE to do these things! She doesn't APOLOGIZE! She chooses to NOT CHANGE. RICK CHOOSES TO NOT CHANGE HER.

You're upset about how we talk about her, you should be upset at Rick for how he wrote her and continues to write her. Could you take it up with him, not the ones who put her flaws in a magnifying glass?

Anyway, that's how I feel. Does Annabeth care or love Percy? I like to believe she does because she wouldn't stay with him if she didn't. However, I also think she likes to have a sense of control over Percy a bit, along with having a deep-rooted jealousy because he outperforms, especially in wisdom and strategy. These things she does come from a sense of anger and jealousy.

Alright, see you later.

[yanderes-galore]

dirk anon here finally with request 5 (my final request!!!!!!) again, all gender neutral :3

Fandom: Cookie Run Kingdom Character(s): Shadow Milk Cookie and Pure Vanilla Cookie (sharing reader, id prefer if theyre not shipped together but if you'd like to write otherwise das ok :3) Pairing: Romantic/Rivalry/Harem(?) Type of Fic: Concept/Headcanons Other Info: i love the idea of these two sharing a darling. or a rivalry that becomes sharing. i have no idea what else to say i think it will be fantastically chaotic /lh (you can choose if it stays a rivalry or if they end up sharing :3)

I don't ship CRK so I get it. At least... I have exceptions. These two are NOT shipped together in this. No worries!

PV = Pure Vanilla

SM = Shadow Milk

TR = Truthless Recluse

Yandere! Pure Vanilla + Shadow Milk HCs/Discussion

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry/Sharing (Sorta)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Jealousy, Stalking, Sabotage, Clingy behavior, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Dubious/Forced relationship(s).

Honestly, I do find the idea of writing HCs of the dynamic between these two fun (also I was given a lot of requests to write for them both).

The two don't need to be together to have a rivalry or share.

I personally just like to view them as opposites.

Yandere-wise they're opposites too.

I typically write PV as submissive, gentle, and kind... even as a yandere.

PV dedicates himself fully to his love... Even if it gets himself hurt.

SM, obviously, is completely different.

SM is dominant, cruel, and rough at times with you.

He wants control, not to be controlled.

However... I do think SM is occasionally submissive on his own.

Yet if he's competing with PV, he doesn't plan on being vulnerable.

I feel like with normal PV, sharing between them isn't really... sharing.

It's more like a rivalry that's barely hidden.

Tolerance would be more like it.

PV doesn't feel secure just leaving you with a Beast like SM.

SM already feels you're his... Yet uses PV's affection to... well... hurt him.

Actual sharing would be between TR (Truthless Recluse) and SM since SM would want TR to help him corrupt you.

Yet since I already have a draft planned for that, I won't spill that here.

Instead, this is a rivalry before Truthless Recluse.

SM still very much despises PV for replacing him and being all heroic.

So when SM finds out PV has someone he loves... It gives SM ideas.

Considering how SM thrives off manipulation and likes to take his anger out on PV...

You can imagine how the rivalry started.

It starts as SM using you against PV to hurt him.

SM thinks he's above love... However...

You still manage to make him obsessive about you in the end.

PV is trying his best to protect you from his beastly counterpart.

Unfortunately, there's times it feels like an uphill battle.

The rivalry probably takes place once you all get The Spire officially.

Yet when the seeds are planted are probably when you first arrive in Beast-Yeast to help the Silver Kingdom.

This is where SM gets his first look at you.

You knew PV first, the hero having been by your side as you traveled Crispia.

He may have not even been yandere... although it's hard to tell with him since he's so gentle.

His yandere behavior doesn't kick in until there's a threat like SM, the beast locking his many eyes on you with sadistic glee.

Even when he's driven off... It isn't the end.

No, SM plans to watch you with PV until you get to his Spire.

Then the real fun can begin.

Despite these two being opposites... There's traits they have in common.

What comes to mind is their clingy and manipulative behavior.

While PV is protective and SM is possessive... They are both smothering.

PV wants to keep your attention on him to protect and love you... He wants his affection to be gentle and sweet.

SM, however, wants you to be a delightful little toy or puppet.

He sees you as someone to 'play' with and the jester hates sharing toys.

So, for the most part, they have a rivalry.

It's even worse when SM drags your group into his games, making you watch in his Spire so he can watch your reactions.

He's mostly focused on making PV suffer... all the while he gives you affection, knowing it will make everything sting more.

So... While I imagine they have a rivalry... I will admit they tolerate things between each other.

SM only promises to share you if PV gives into his games... and even hands over the Soul Jam.

SM exploits PV essentially, so unless PV becomes TR... There isn't a lot of sharing.

... Beast-Yeast story wise.

If you want an AU where you have them both in your Kingdom and SM is forced to play nice... Then they have more opportunities to tolerate each other.

PV is still protective due to what happened in Beast-Yeast, even in his awakened form.

SM is also still as chaotic as ever, but is reduced to a jester playing cruel jokes if he wants to stay around you and not get thrown out.

This could be an example of the two sharing with PV as his usual yet awakened self.

The two would tolerate each other because they want your approval in this AU.

SM still does questionable actions... stalking you with his magic eyes when he's unable to be around to watch you.

Although... PV isn't much better with how much he sticks around you.

The two are definitely obsessive about their feelings towards you....

Yet neither can make a move without the other one sabotaging the other.

SM is, ironically, the king of sabotage.

So they're both forced to keep their personal feelings to a minimum, like a stalemate.

This stalemate forces the two to tolerate sharing.

Or... more accurately, force SM.

I say that because now that I think about it... Awakened! PV wouldn't mind sharing.

PV would probably think using their shared affection over you would be a good way to convert SM to good.

So... It would be a rivalry right up until Awakened! PV happens.

In that case, it's only a rivalry to SM.

Overall I feel rivalry or sharing could work depending on certain situations.

It would be a rivalry with original PV, but it would be "sharing" with TR or Awakened! PV.

SM sees it as a rivalry regardless though.

Their overall dynamic is fun to discuss.

I like the idea of them trying to manipulate their obsession to the side of truth or lies.

PV means well, saying not to trust the beast.

Meanwhile, SM just likes to gaslight you into not trusting anyone.

After all... He's a master of lies.

If he and PV are so similar... Can you really trust PV?

I actually feel the rivalry would mostly conclude with PV awakening and trying to negotiate sharing you with SM.

Yet when it comes to SM... Who knows if he'll listen?

Sharing with them could easily become a rivalry again if SM tries anything.

Ironically, I'd describe their dynamic as chaotic all due to SM....

Sure, SM will tolerate PV's plan just so he can sneak in a few cuddles or possible kisses.

But someday... SM may just steal you away if PV doesn't change him.

Which, obviously, strikes the match on the rivalry again.

So, even when sharing, there's always that subtle tension...

A warning that things could go wrong regardless of who you choose.

[cedarwrought]

nice: futility in the pursuit of perfection

(spoilers for EP 1 under the cut)

note: i'll refer to the original nice in this analysis, not lin ling. (we'll talk about him later LOL)

this is purely based off of the official trailers, pv, character concept, and episode one, so my thoughts are subject to change as more episodes are released <3

in nice’s character concept, he’s is shown to be nothing short of a perfectionist. everything has to be perfect: stationary, plates, silverware (or goldware, i suppose) have to be in their rightful positions. all of his belongings are gold, white or fall in a shade of brown, black. even his pillowcase is set in a neat geometric pattern. his hero costume’s color scheme- gold, white, and blue- screams sophistication and poise.

nothing can be out of place- so why choose to die the way he did? it's messy, undignified- and most importantly, public.

what type of fan wants to see their shining hero's brains splattered out on the street? in his hero suit, no less.

nice wanted to permanently tarnish his image of being “perfection incarnate.” he decided to damn himself even further by pointing finger guns at lin before falling- a bittersweet farewell.

despite his endless pursuit of perfection- and having seemingly obtained it (with the title of no.10 hero, his face plastered across every other billboard in the city, and a beautiful girlfriend fitting of his clean, polished image)- i think nice hated himself.

his floor in hero tower is devoid of any personality or sentimentality. the only decor is a piano off to the side, two treadmills (the other presumably meant for moon)- and most importantly, a statue of himself- of nice- in the middle of it all.

offering a palm out to whomever stands before it, the statue almost seems welcoming, friendly. almost. it looks like it belongs in a city hall or museum, not someone's personal residence.

so why keep a statue of himself in his personal living space?

you could theorize he's narcissistic. i mean, people would kill for the prestige tied to the name "nice." (we even get a glimpse of this jealousy in his character promo- hello mysterious stranger.) maybe it inspires him as he steps into another day of being “nice.”

but to me, it’s a reminder fueled by self-loathing.

nice has nothing- is nothing- without being perfect, adored, and envied. he's a former ballet dancer- an art form known for its severe dedication to the craft. we don’t even know his real name. If he can’t be the perfect hero, what is he? And when that image is threatened, what will he do to maintain it?

according to the official trailer 3, nice says he will “use whatever dirty tactics it takes to prevail.” the “villain” we see in his PV calls him out on his alleged hypocrisy, implying that he was involved- or at least knows of some of nice’s misdeeds in the pursuit of perfection.

hell, even his own hero name calls him out. To be nice is to be agreeable, pleasing. niceness is a surface level trait: a veneer meant to cover imperfection and rot. he's not supposed to be kind, much less good.

“Nice” has to be perfect, and whoever held the mantle before lin was unable to afford the cost.

EDIT: the video i had originally referenced for the the quote "use whatever dirty tactics it takes to prevail" had a mistranslation, as @/spidey-deadpool and @/rainibao kindly pointed out in the tags. in the original Chinese video, nice says "No matter what dirty tricks you play, I’ll overcome them perfectly." this lines in better with the self-loathing aspect I had mentioned, and im curious to see how it plays out!

referencing ballet again- it's an art form that ultimately breaks down your body. professional ballet dancers typically retire in their 30's or 40's due to the physical demand, and it seems that the same can be said for herodom- with the cost being your mental health and well-being. faith and trust from the public seem to enhance a person's physical capabilities and prowess, but the standards to maintain that image become increasingly rigid the more renowned a hero is, given how deeply heroism is entrenched in capitalism. im very curious as to see how debilitating injuries are handled in TBHX, but for now, we see the aftermath of how it led to a young hero taking his own life.

[meowviolet]

☆ ━━ VAMP!TOXIC!CAITLYN

cw: +18, dark theme, toxic relationship, mean!possessive!caitlyn, jealousy, rough sex, marking kink, strap-on (r! receiving), mention of death and corpse.

vamp!toxic!cait who would not let you leave her mansion under any circumstances, you would not leave for anything other than to sunbathe and take care of the plants as you liked to do.

vamp!toxic!cait who always have her eye on you, no matter where you are or what you're doing, she knows. don't get me wrong, it's not because she doesn't trust you, she just wants to protect you from cruel people out there!

vamp!toxic!cait who will notice a strange interaction between you and the gardener, more on his part. he always gives you the best flowers, he talks to you constantly, always wants to be close to you and looks at you in a way that is very strange to her, but you were too dumb to realize his intentions. she watches the two of you from the window, her red eyes glowing with pure anger.

vamp!toxic!cait who every night when she comes home after a hunt for blood, she will wake you up just to want you to massage her and sometimes want you to do more things besides just massage, always using the argument of "you don't love me?" or "come on, for me, please..." etc.

vamp!toxic!cait who would force you to let her take some of your blood even if you don't want to. obviously, using blackmail.

vamp!toxic!cait who would constantly mark and scratch you, a way for her to mark her territory (a habit that became more common after she noticed how Joseph treated you).

vamp!toxic!cait who, despite being possessive, was still very romantic. she would play instruments for you, give you gifts, read for you, and plan the best dates, all just to keep you by her side.

vamp!toxic!cait who constantly ignores you, sometimes she wasn't even really busy, she just ignores you because you're "too clingy" and needs someone to throw a bucket of cold water on you.

"cait" you called after her, nervously playing with your fingers as you followed her through the house.

"hm?" she just mumbles, pretending to be reading some kind of article while walking in a "hurry".

"can you tell me if something happened to Joseph? I haven't seen him come to work for a few days..." you ask about your gardener friend, genuinely concerned. You noticed that at no point did she stop walking, showing nothing other than appearing not to hear you. "cait...?"

she snorts. "honey, I'm busy, leave me alone!" She says irritably before ducking into the office once more, locking you out and dodging your question again.

vamp!toxic!cait who would kill anyone who was near you (in this case, it has already occurred).

vamp!toxic!cait who would constantly choose your clothes, always choosing dresses with frills that looked like they came straight out of a medieval series. she didn't care if it was uncomfortable for you or if it was too "tacky", she thought you looked beautiful in them and wanted you to wear them (and would punish you if you didn't use them).

vamp!toxic!cait who would watch you sleep. by exchanging day for night, she would end up staying awake while you were sleeping, and she would always be there, watching you, admiring how serene you would be sleeping there without noticing that she could just attack you and drain you at any moment (obviously she wouldn't do that, but it turned her on to think of you being so vulnerable and oblivious to something dangerous like her).

vamp!toxic!cait who once proposed a predator and prey fantasy to you, but was upset when you refused, making her go almost a week without talking to you until you give in.

vamp!toxic!cait who would give you the best sex every time she would come back from a hunt. the adrenaline of being a predator would be coursing through her body, and she would want to take it out on something and that something would be you. you would have a sequence of delicious orgasms every night of her hunting.

vamp!toxic!cait that on a random night, she would arrive from a hunt that seemed to have been the best in her long years of life (and also the fastest). she would come to you happily, the smell of fresh blood on her skin — she hadn't even cleaned herself like she always did — she would run her hand over you and whisper things to you until you gave in and had sex with her.

your hands would be firmly on the large glass window of the room you two shared, moans escaping freely from your mouth, it was music to her ears. her hips kept up the relentless pace, her strap on shoved deep inside you, sliding in and out accompanied by the wet pops of your soaking pussy. her long nails gently pierced the skin of your raised thigh, tearing almost deep enough to draw blood.

caitlyn licked the length of your neck, able to hear the strong beating of your heart and the way your blood circulated, she doesn't hold back and bites your neck, not to suck your blood but to mark you. she bit your neck and shoulders more and more, to the point of drawing a few tears from you from the burning but delicious bites.

you find yourself getting closer and closer to orgasm, your walls clenching around her strap, eliciting a moan from her as if she can feel you. she lets out a laugh, bringing her lips closer to your ear.

"you're close, aren't you, bunny?" she says as she lifts a hand to your chin, guiding you to look outside the window, wanting you to look at something.

at first you didn't see anything, until you spotted something on the lawn — a body, to be more exact. when you finally recognize who it was, your eyes widen and you feel your breath hitch for seconds. It was Joseph, your only friend in that house, dead on the lawn. his body was disfigured with cuts and signs of torture, his skin dry and skeletal body indicating that his blood had been drained from his body.

you were speechless, you couldn't believe what was happening, your eyes immediately form tears of sadness. caitlyn notices your tears and forces you to look at her, her red eyes glowing and her devilish smile making you shiver.

"why are you sad? did you like him?" she asks as she runs the tip of her nail across your jaw, the movements of her hips were now slow and torturous. "It's a shame, he was a good friend...however, he wanted to steal you from me. thank me for getting him out of our way"

before you could say anything, caitlyn gave you a hard thrust, eliciting a loud whimper from you. she started going faster, on purpose, making your orgasm gush out of your pussy quickly, along with the tears that came out of your eyes. you no longer knew if you were crying from pleasure, from the death of your friend or from having sex while looking at his body there, thrown like trash in the garden.

caitlyn buries her head in your shoulder, smiling devilishly.

"he could never make you cum like I do."