#but if he’s only acting this way towards me

[fangdokja]

One of them wants to marry you. The other wants to make sure he never does.

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Various! Otome Isekai Characters x Fem. Reader

♡ Word Count. 3,171

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who has always been entitled to everything—land, power, wealth, and most importantly, you. His right to you is absolute, written in blood and ink across every history book that dares to speak of the royal line.

♡ Yandere! War Hero who was never promised anything but carved his way through battlefields, knee-deep in the viscera of fallen foes, until he stood before you. Not by birthright, but by the sheer will to survive where others fell.

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who sits beside you, hands clasped over yours like a steel shackle. "You don't need to lower yourself to common filth," he murmurs, gaze locked on the War Hero. "You were made for palaces, not trenches."

♡ Yandere! War Hero who only grins, boots kicked onto the palace table, still stained with the dried blood of a hundred men. "And you were made to sit on your ass while others do the killing. Forgive me if I find that unimpressive."

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who tightens his grip on your fingers, a barely restrained tremor running up his arm. "You’re nothing but a hound."

♡ Yandere! War Hero who flashes a wolfish smirk. "And yet, she feeds me scraps. Doesn't that make you feel insecure?"

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince whose smile is all polished gold but whose rage is a quiet execution. "The difference between you and me, mongrel, is that I own what I love."

♡ Yandere! War Hero who laughs like the last dying breath of an enemy. "And yet, here she sits, leaning towards me. Looks like your leash slipped, your highness."

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who has held a blade to his general’s throat for less.

♡ Yandere! War Hero who doesn’t flinch at the Crown Prince’s threats because he’s had worse. The last man who tried to kill him succeeded—for five minutes, before he was dragged back to life by battlefield surgeons who stapled his soul to his bones.

♡ Yandere! War Hero who is obsessed with the way you placed your palm against his blood-slicked cheek after he returned from battle, as if he were still human, as if war had not made him something else entirely. Who still hears your voice over the screams, the thunder, the cacophony of steel meeting flesh. He doesn’t believe in destiny, but he believes in you.

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who stares, seething, as you sit beside the War Hero, dabbing at a cut along his jaw. His fists clench.

“You forget your place, soldier,” the Crown Prince hisses, voice low, dangerous.

♡ Yandere! War Hero who meets his gaze, unbothered. “And you forget yours, my lord. You are the heir to a kingdom. I am the shield that keeps you from wearing your guts like a sash.”

“You think that shield will protect you from me?”

The War Hero shrugs. “Try and find out.”

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who very much would love to, if not for your hand on the War Hero’s wrist, grounding him, soothing something feral just beneath his skin. That is what enrages him most. Not the defiance. Not the insolence. But the fact that it’s working. That you can calm the storm with a touch.

♡ Yandere! War Hero who smirks, tilts his head. “She chose me.”

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who intends to undo that mistake with blood and fire.

———

♡ Yandere! Archduke who catches you at the opera, dressed in silver and moonlight, sitting in his private box like you belong to him. And then there’s a crash—

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who swings from the rafters like a damn circus act, landing with a bow as if breaking into an event full of armed guards is just another Tuesday.

“Really? This is your plan?” the Archduke drawls, unimpressed. He lifts a glass of wine as if toasting to the sheer audacity. “You thought you could just waltz in here and steal her?”

“Oh no, Your Grace,” the Master Thief grins, flashing something sharp and gleaming between his teeth. “I don’t waltz. I prefer the tango. More hands-on.”

A gunshot. The Master Thief dodges. Your ears ring. The opera continues. Nobody reacts. The nobility is used to bloodstains on the carpet.

♡ Yandere! Archduke who never misses a shot but isn’t aiming to kill. No, he’s aiming to maim.

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who laughs, dashing across the balcony with inhuman agility, plucking a jewel-encrusted knife from an unfortunate lord’s throat. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

♡ Yandere! Archduke who sneers. “Says the one who thinks theft is a love language.”

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who winks. “It is when you do it right.”

♡ Yandere! Archduke who places a gloved hand over yours. “She isn’t yours to steal.”

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who twirls the stolen dagger. “Then let’s see if she wants to be taken.”

You, who really just wanted to enjoy the damn opera.

♡ Yandere! Archduke who burns down an entire village because you let the Master Thief steal a kiss from you. "Collateral damage," he sighs, boot on the charred remains of someone’s grandmother. "Next time, I’ll aim for a city."

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who breaks into your chambers nightly, the smell of fresh blood and stolen perfume lingering in the air. "Shame about the guards," he grins, slipping a diamond ring onto your finger. "It’s a perfect fit. Like it was always meant to be there."

♡ Yandere! Archduke who sits on his throne, dagger in his palm, knuckles white. "You reek of him," he murmurs, voice colder than the corpses he stacked just to see you smile. "Tell me. Did he make you laugh?" His grip tightens, knuckles cracking. "I’d rather tear out your tongue than let you amuse another man."

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who laughs at the execution order with his name on it, flipping the royal decree between his fingers like a cheap playing card. "It’s cute, really. You think bars can hold me? Your Archduke should know by now—I steal more than just gold."

♡ Yandere! Archduke who drags you to the highest tower, the wind howling like the ghosts of everyone he's butchered in your name. "Look down. See that? That’s what happens when you pick the wrong man." He tilts your chin up with the edge of his blade, smile thin as a razor. "Luckily for you, I’m still willing to forgive. If you beg."

———

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who doesn’t need to see through dimensions to know when a threat is coiling around you like an unseen parasite. Who can taste betrayal like an iron tang in the air. Who can hear the pulse of magic in every living being, except when you smile at him, because that? That is utterly dead inside.

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who materializes in a crack of golden light, robes billowing with unspoken fury, and says, "Ah. So you’ve taken to harboring rats in your bed. How quaint. Should I fetch the plague doctor, or would you prefer to let it fester?"

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who grins at him from his place on your couch, casual as a corpse cooling on the battlefield. Who doesn’t bother to get up, just keeps one hand on your thigh like a brand, like a claim, like he’s daring a man who can rewrite reality to try something.

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who lifts a hand and waves lazily. "Well, if it isn’t the arcane psychopath. I was wondering when you’d show up. You always get so twitchy when she has company."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who doesn’t react, because he doesn’t need to react. The air warps with unspoken threats. Your entire apartment creaks, the walls tightening as if reality itself is afraid of what he will do. "Your presence here is a mistake, spy. One I am going to correct."

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who exhales, all long-suffering patience, and pats your knee. "See, this is why we can’t have a healthy social life, sweetheart. Your little pet magician thinks anything that breathes near you is a threat."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who steps closer, not bothering to touch the ground, because why should a god walk when he can hover like the nightmare he is? His voice is a blade wrapped in silk. "That is because everything near her is a threat."

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who rolls his eyes, leans in closer to you, and mutters, "He’s not wrong."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who obliterated an entire country in a fit of rage once. Who still has the map with that nation’s name scribbled out in blood. Who claims it was a scientific experiment in large-scale elemental magic. Who insists it had nothing to do with the fact that you had been taken there as a prisoner of war.

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who personally designed the magical chains shackling the enemy spy to his dungeon wall. Who carved sigils into his flesh with a surgeon’s precision. Who watches, with the detached amusement of a scholar, as the spy’s body twists and heals around the enchantments. Who calls it "an intellectual curiosity." Who calls it "a favor" to you.

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who sneers through bloodied teeth. Who only laughs when Supreme Mage’s spellwork attempts to break his mind. Who survived the war solely on instinct, subterfuge, and the kind of unholy endurance that makes lesser men shudder. Who grins, sharp and defiant, as he croaks, "You should let her decide, shouldn’t you?"

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who nearly detonates the entire fortress at the mere suggestion.

"Decide?" His voice is an earthquake barely contained. His robes ripple like liquid shadow, edged in embers. "What is there to decide? A parasite does not negotiate its way into a host’s body. A stray dog does not ask to be let inside. You think yourself an equal? A competitor? You're a mistake of nature, a statistical anomaly."

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who only grins wider, spitting blood onto Supreme Mage’s pristine white marble floor. "You sure talk a lot for someone who’s scared."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who moves too fast to track. One moment he’s across the room, the next his hand is buried in the spy’s chest, fingers curled around his still-beating heart. Who leans in, slow, deliberate, his breath scalding. "I could make you forget her name," he whispers. "I could wipe every last thought of her from your mind. Your love, your obsession, your entire self—gone."

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who, despite the pain, despite the mind-breaking agony, still smirks. "And yet," he wheezes, "you haven’t."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who yanks his hand back, seething, as the spy collapses into ragged, victorious laughter. Who turns to you, his golden eyes alight with something feverish, something frantic. "Say it," he commands. "Tell him he is nothing. Tell him he does not exist to you."

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy, gasping, wheezing, forcing himself to sit up. "Or..." he rasps, tilting his head, "tell him you like me better."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who is one syllable away from setting the entire continent on fire.

———

♡ Yandere! Demon King who built his empire on charred corpses and centuries of conquest. Who sits upon his throne of ivory bones, fingers idly tapping against an armrest carved from the skull of a fallen archangel. Who looks at you like a relic from a past life, something fragile, something beloved, something that must be locked away lest the world taint you. Who commands with absolute authority, but speaks your name like a prayer, like a secret only he should be allowed to know.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who has killed more kings than he can count, but never this one. Who has worked at the Demon King's side for millennia, yet the moment you entered his line of sight, he knew he would tear down empires for you. Who moves in silence, in shadows, in the spaces between light and dark, but his voice is a rasp against your ear, whispering things he knows the Demon King will kill him for saying. Who stands with knives in both hands, one for his enemies, one for the man who dares to keep you from him.

♡ Yandere! Demon King who does not know the meaning of sharing. Who watches you speak to the assassin with a gaze so searing the air warps around him. Who clenches his jaw hard enough that his fangs pierce his own tongue, and the taste of his own ichor only fuels his fury. Who has conquered dimensions, obliterated civilizations, and yet the worst betrayal he has ever known is watching you, his beloved, listen to another man.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who has spent centuries perfecting the art of killing, but only now does he feel alive. Who watches the Demon King unravel with a sick sort of amusement, knowing he alone has gotten under his liege’s skin. Who stands just close enough to you, his presence a silent claim, his movements too fluid, too casual, as though daring the King to react. Who lets his fingers brush against yours when handing you a blade, his smirk widening as the Demon King’s aura cracks the stone beneath them.

The throne room is a masterpiece of destruction. The walls still drip with the remains of some poor fool who displeased him. The air is thick with the scent of burning marrow, but it is not enough to drown out the suffocating silence between the two men.

“You’re awfully bold today,” the Demon King murmurs, voice like smoldering embers. His clawed fingers drum against his throne, slow, deliberate, like a war drum before the first strike. His eyes, the color of old blood, do not leave you. “Are you enjoying this?”

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who grins, unbothered by the killing intent in the room. “Immensely.”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who stands, and the entire castle groans in response, the weight of his wrath fracturing the very foundation. Who does not appreciate amusement unless he is the one indulging in it. Who steps forward, each movement a barely restrained act of violence, a king whose patience has run dry.

“Come here,” he commands, but it is not to his assassin. It is to you. To his treasure.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who laughs under his breath, stepping in your way before you can move. “She’s not a dog, your Majesty.”

♡ Yandere! Demon King whose smile is a thin, sharp thing, carved from disdain. “No, but you are a corpse.”

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who tilts his head, eyes gleaming. “Try me.”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who does not lunge—kings do not lunge, kings do not brawl. No, he merely lifts a hand, and the walls explode with jagged obsidian, the floor splintering into a pit of hellfire at the assassin’s feet. The room screams with infernal energy, a tangible force meant to bring lesser beings to their knees.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who does not flinch. Who rolls his shoulders like this is a game and he is a predator that has just caught the scent of something fun. Who flicks his wrist and summons a thousand shadows, each one an extension of his will, a sliver of darkness with a killing edge.

♡ Yandere! Demon King who clenches his fist and the assassin’s shadows shatter.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who raises a brow, impressed but not deterred. “Touchy.”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who does not take well to insolence. Who does not take well to you still standing beside the assassin.

You, who sighs in the middle of the impending bloodbath, utterly unphased. “Are you two done?”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who turns to you like you’ve personally betrayed him. “You’re defending him?”

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who smirks, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Adorable, isn’t it?”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who snaps, his power manifesting in a cacophony of screams from the walls themselves. Who reaches for you, but the assassin is faster, grabbing you by the waist and yanking you into his grasp, pressing a blade to your throat—not to hurt you, never to hurt you, but to taunt the king.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who grins against your ear, voice a ghost of amusement. “So, who do you think would win?”

♡ Yandere! Demon King whose eyes glow with hellfire, whose fangs glint like a beast denied its prey. “You will die screaming.”

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who kisses the top of your head, just to make it worse. “Maybe. But I’ll die with her.”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who does not like that answer. Not one bit.

———

But here’s the thing.

Did they really think you were an idiot?

You, who has watched their egos clash like titanic beasts, who has dangled yourself like a prized trophy between them, knowing full well what you were doing. You, who let them think they were winning.

You, who used every second of their pathetic posturing to plan your escape.

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who turns, realizing you’re gone—

♡ Yandere! War Hero who curses under his breath, scanning the battlefield—

♡ Yandere! Archduke who demands his spies find you immediately—

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who suddenly wishes he had locked you in a cage when he had the chance—

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who reaches out with his magic, only to find—nothing—

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who grins, because honestly? He saw this coming, and he's a little impressed.

♡ Yandere! Demon King who roars, shaking the very foundations of the underworld—

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who merely chuckles, licking a stray drop of blood from his blade.

You, vanishing into the night, leaving behind nothing but chaos, war, and the memory of a coldblooded glare.

After all… if you can’t fight the system, might as well use it.

Let them tear each other apart.

You? You have better things to do.

You walked away.

Free.

Fucking imbeciles.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson X Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 26

Word Count- 4.8k

Warnings- ARSON, swearing, mentions of sex and threesomes

“Wait so Theo tried giving my brothers the sex talk?”

I tighten my jacket as I cringe at Rebekah’s question. The blonde original walks beside me past construction workers and townspeople as we make our way over to Wickey Bridge.

“I wish I was joking. He’s so corny.”

Rebekah lets out a chuckle, “And let me guess, my brothers sat down and listened.”

I let out a sigh, “Every second of it.”

“What happened after you kicked Theo out?”

I frown as I recall last night, “Nothing. Like… literally nothing. Theo went to his room and then Klaus and Elijah stood up and then Elijah wished me a good night, and then they just left,” I raise my hands in defeat and Rebekah rolls her eyes. 

“Well what did you want to happen,” I close my mouth as I hear Rebekah’s tone and see the smirk on her face.

“Nothing…shut up.”

Rebekah shakes her head, “Then you have nothing to complain about,” She eyes me, “Right?”

I eye her back and nod, “Yep. Nothing at all.”

Rebekah rolls her eyes at me and mutters something quietly under her breath before wrapping her arm in mine and dragging me toward Carol Lockwood.

“Why are we here anyways,” I shake slightly as a brush of wind hits my face, “It’s cold. And there’s too many people here.”

“I told you in the car, I need some information. We’ll leave as soon as I get it.”

Rebekah leads us to Carol who plasters a huge fake smile as soon as she sees the Original and it slightly dampers when his eyes meet mine and I fight the urge to roll my own. 

“Rebekah and…Y/n,” Her tone tightens as she says my name, “What a pleasure you’re both here! How can I help you?”

Before Rebekah can respond I spot a refreshments table and untangle my arm from Bekah’s. She frowns at me but when I point towards the drinks she nods, going back to talk to Carol. 

I’d rather lobotomize myself than have a conversation with that woman. 

��

I blow out a breath as I nurse the styrofoam cup filled with cocoa in my hands. The warmth momentarily giving my hands some much-needed heat. 

“Pukey, you hear with Barbie Klaus I presume?”

I turn around and my eyes meet Damon’s blue ones. 

“Sadly, yes.”

My attention strays to a pretty red-headed woman who stands beside him, an amused smile comes over her face as she gives me a once over. 

“Pukey?”

“It’s Y/n.”

She blinks as she hears my name and something momentarily shifts in her gaze, and then her smile turns into a small smirk that unsettles me.

She reaches out her hand for me to shake but Damon pushes it down. 

“Touching is a big no-go for Pukey,” He says and I fight back a small smile. 

I turn my gaze back to the woman, “And your name?”

She smiles, “Sage. My name is Sage.”

No way. Not possible. Too easy. This can’t be Sage Sage. Finn’s Sage?!

“Rightttt,” I twiddle my thumbs trying to act casual, “And um how exactly do you know Damon?” “He used to be a student of mine.”

Damon smirks, “A longgggg time ago.”

Be casual Y/n. CASUAL.

“How old are you?”

Sage raises an amused brow, “Hasn’t anyone ever told you you should never ask a woman her age.”

“Well, I think that only applies to women who actually age,” I mutter and I see Damon roll his eyes. 

“I’m a little over 900 years old. But, who's counting,” Her response has my stomach flipping and I’m fighting the urge to test if I can do a backflip. IT IS HER.

I mean it’s got to be, right? There can’t be that many 900-year-old vampires named Sage.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Our attention is turned toward Bekah who joins us. An annoyed look is plastered on her face as she stares at Sage.

“Easy there Rebekah,” Damon chides, “She used to beat men for sport.”

“That’s a hobby I need to get into,” I remark and Sage sends me a smirk. 

“She always was quite common,” Rebekah says. Oh yikes.

“Rebekah, what a happy surprise,” Sage responds. 

“What are you doing here, Sage?”

“Well, I hear Finn was finally freed from that casket your rageaholic brother Klaus carted him around in.”

Ohhh. Yet another fan of my man. 

“I wouldn’t be too harsh on my brother in front of Y/n here. I’ve heard soulmates have a tendency to get quite prickly when their other half is insulted. Not that you’d know,” Rebekah smirks, and I cringe and silently curse at her as everyone’s attentions go to me. 

“I thought your name sounded familiar,” Sage eyes me and within a second Damon positions himself in front of me. 

“Touching Pukey is a death sentence, Sage. I would advise against it,” Damon eyes the woman and she rolls her own. 

“I’m not stupid enough to do that. But let’s be serious Damon I taught you everything you know. You can’t beat me.”

I position myself so I can see Damon’s face, “Oh, it’s not me you should be worried about. Yes, Pukey here is under my protection, but I’m not the one who would torture you until you're begging for your death. That falls upon…well let’s see,” He picks up his hand and starts counting on his fingers, “Klaus “The Great Evil” Mikeaelson, his noble brother Elijah, the annoying one Kol, Barbie over here, and last but not least your boy toy Finn. Along with all the other supernaturals of Mystic Falls.”

Sage looks from Damon to Bekah who just nods in agreement, “I hate to agree with the bastard but he’s telling the truth. Going against Y/n is going against the Mikaelsons.”

Sage clears her throat, “Well it’s a good thing I mean her no harm then.”

“Yep…sure is,” I mutter.

“Now where can I find Finn?”

“Probably somewhere forgetting all about you,” Rebekah remarks and then reaches over and wraps her arm in mind, “Come, I’ll buy us lunch.”

Before Bekah can fully pull me away I lean towards Sage, “Have Damon give you my number and I can help you.”

Sage’s eyebrows furrow but she still nods. 

—

Well, that was a bust. 

Rebekah canceled our lunch once she got into the car. After talking to Damon and Sage, Rebekah told me she had forgotten her coat and would meet me back at her car. But when she came back 10 minutes later she was more annoyed and volatile than usual, muttering something about Damon being a dick and other profanities. She apologized to me and said she’d have to rain-check our lunch date to a time when she didn’t feel like murdering everyone around her. I told her not to worry about it and that I wasn’t hungry.

I lied. I’m fucking starving and now I’m home looking at a bare fridge since my mother hasn’t gone grocery shopping in however long. I don’t want to have to go out and get something but at this point, it’s either go and deal with people at the grocery store or starve. 

Starving might be better.

  I grab my keys though when I realize that Theo still needs to eat dinner. I fling open the front door and- FUCK!

“Fuck me!”

“I’ve been trying, Luv.”

My eyes narrow and my cheeks warm as I stare at Klaus who is watching me with a soft smirk. 

“What the hell are you doing here,” I huff out and clutch my chest.

“Well, it’s good to see you as well,” The hybrid replies sarcastically. 

I give him a deadpan look and he rolls his eyes.

“My dear sister told me she had to cancel lunch with you so I thought I would ask you if you would accompany me instead.”

I feel a small smile make its way onto my face, “Are you asking me on a date?”

Klaus eyes me for a moment before turning his attention to the chipping white paint of the front door frame.

“I suppose.”

“Damn, don’t sound too excited,” I mutter sarcastically.

Klaus huffs and looks back at me, “That’s not what I…I just meant that” A look of frustration comes over his face while I watch in amusement.

“For being as old as you are you would think you’d be better at this whole date thing,” I smirk at him. 

“Well none of the ones before ever mattered the way you do,” Klaus seems to respond without thinking. 

I wring my hands and Klaus and I eye each other for a moment before I look away.

“Well, sadly I can’t go out for lunch since my fantastic mother seems to have forgotten to get any groceries for our house. Which means once again I have to go out and get them myself.”

A wave of sadness washes over me and I look to see Klaus’ shoulders drop slightly.

` “But…if you want to come,” I point towards my car, “Shopping with me. I could always have your super strength carry the bags.”

I doubt a one-thousand-year-old hybrid wants to spend his afternoon grocery shopping when he has enemies to fight and-

“I’ll come.”

—

“Princess, I’m immortal and yet with the way you’re driving I fear for my life,” Klaus’ voice comes out sarcastically but with the way I can see him frantically eyeing the road from his position in the passenger seat, I don’t think he’s joking.

I press my foot on the gas as I pass an old woman in a red Ford, “You’re being dramatic. Look we’re here.”

Forgetting my blinker, I whip my car into the small grocery store parking lot and slam it into park. 

“See we’re here,” I turn to smile at Klaus but I find him staring wide-eyed at me.

“Is this how you drive all the time?”

I shrug, take the keys out of the ignition, and open my door, “I’ve got places to be, why would I wait in traffic?”

Klaus gets out of the car as well and meets me at the trunk as we begin to walk into the small grocery store, “You passed 4 cars in a 10-minute drive.”

“They were going too slow.”

“You were going 20 over the speed limit,” Klaus’ frustrated voice makes me laugh.

Klaus is quiet for a moment as we reach the automatic door. I turn to him and question and it takes him a second to snap out of whatever stupor he was in.

“What was that all about,” I ask as I grab a cart and lean the front of my body on it.

“Nothing,” Klaus denies as we pass an elderly couple arguing over bananas, “I just don’t get to hear your laugh very often.”

I shrug and smirk at him as we approach the produce section, “Ever think it might just be because you’re not as funny as you think you are?”

“Nope,” Klaus says as he grabs a produce bag and hands it to me. 

“Of course not.”

` The bickering couple and the overhead music of an old pop song are the only things heard as I put different fruits and vegetables into plastic bags as Klaus follows behind me. Every time one of my bags gets full Klaus is right there with another. I stare at the cart momentarily and nod.

“I think that's all for produce,” Klaus walks beside me, looks down at the cart, and nods as well. 

“What next?”

I stop for a moment and look up at the man everyone else in this town is terrified of and laugh under my breath before turning back towards the cart, pushing it towards the dairy section.

“What was that,” Klaus points a finger at me.

“I just find this funny,” I say simply.

“Find what funny?”

“You,” I grab a gallon of milk when we hit the aisle, “Being here. Grocery shopping. Everyone else in this town is probably trying to plan your demise and here you are shopping for 2% Low-fat milk,” I say as I put the milk in the cart. 

“Well, personally I prefer 1%,” His sarcastic reply has me shaking my head, “And yes I know your little friends our out there planning my great demise but…until my death is imminent, which it isn’t if domestic shopping is what you and I do together than,” He grabs a bottle of $3 wine off the shelf and glances at it for a moment before cringing in disgust and putting it back, “Than that’s what we shall do.”

I think about his words as we walk through the store and grab other items, from cereal to pasta, and random snacks, and from time to time, Klaus will throw in his own items. 

I lift on my tip toes as I try to grab the sauce can that is on the very top shelf. I hear Klaus mutter a laugh from behind me before I feel his hand place itself on my upper waist to move me out of the way.

“Is it really that hard for you to ask for help,” He comments as he grabs the can with ease and places it into the cart. 

“Yes.”

Klaus rolls his eyes but the ghost of a smile on his lips tells me he was already certain of what my answer would be. 

I turn back towards the cart and sigh, “I think that’s it.”

Klaus nods and follows behind me as we walk towards the checkout line.

—

“Oh come on, Theo!”

I growl and Klaus, who is putting all the groceries from the cart and onto the checkout stand instantly looks up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Theo just asked me to get his stupid gummy worms,” I look at the cashier clerk, who is slowly ringing in each item, and then look to Klaus. 

“Can you-”

“Go,” Is all he says and I’m running towards the candy aisle to find Theo’s stupid ass gummies. 

After way too long I find them squished in between some chocolate and peanuts and run back towards the checkout line where the clerk is giving Klaus a dirty look, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care. 

I look at all our bagged groceries and swear under my breath, giving the gummies to the clerk.

“Sorry for the hold-up,” I apologize and I hear a scratchy laugh from behind me. 

I turn to see the old woman and man from before waiting in line behind us. She smiles thoughtfully as she leans towards me. 

“You’ve got a good man here,” She points to Klaus who is clearly pretending not to eavesdrop, “She kept telling him he had to pay and you’d just have to go back at the end of the line but he wouldn’t budge.”

I turn to look at Klaus but frown when I see him swipe his card through the reader.

“Dude!”

Klaus punches in his pin and just shrugs, “You’re friend over there is still talking to you.”

“He even pays for you,” I turn back to the woman who is looking dreamily at Klaus and if she were 50 years younger I’d probably fight her for looking at him that way. Might still now.

“I have to drag my old bastard here by the ear just to get him up in the morning, let alone to the store with me,” She points to the man beside her who rolls his eyes before placing a kiss on her cheek.

“Love you too, My Everly,” The man says as he puts their groceries on the stand. And even though the woman tries to play it tough the look of love and admiration she has in her eyes gives her true feelings away. 

“Married for 47 years and he still knows how to get on every one of my nerves,” She mutters lovingly, “Make sure to keep that one though. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a man look at a woman the way he does to you. When you have something like that child, grab it and don’t let go. And it helps that he’s quite easy on the eyes.”

I nod and bid her goodbye. I turn to Klaus who is waiting by the entrance of the store with our bagged groceries and a knowing look on his face.

“Have a good chat?”

“Oh shut up,” I mutter as I punch him in the shoulder.

“I am easy on the eyes aren’t I?”

Klaus smirks to himself while sighing, “You Mikaelsons need to work on your egos. I swear to God.”

“All of our egos are very much healthy and intact, thank you very much.”

“Ya…that’s the problem.”

—

“Cans go in that shelf over there, Klaus,” I point to the middle shelf right in front of Klaus and he nods, putting the cans of vegetables into the cabinet. 

We got back home 20 minutes ago and after Klaus helped me lug all the groceries in, the ones he paid for, he then just started unloading them and placing them into cabinets and the fridge. It’s been almost comical to watch Klaus’ tall frame try to maneuver around in my tiny kitchen, but somehow he’s managed. 

“Remind me to buy you a bigger house,” I hear him mutter and I laugh.

“Yes, please do. And make sure it has a big ass library,” I point at him, “Oh! And I want one of those built-in window chairs, so I can read while seeing the stars at night,” I nod at him jokingly but as I stare at the look on his face I freeze.

“That was a joke, Klaus. I know what you’re thinking,” I put my finger in his face and he gives me an innocent look, “Don’t you dare buy me a house. I’ve come to learn how you Mikaelsons like to throw your money around and I don’t want any part of it.”

Klaus gives me an upside-down smile and nods.

“Oh! That reminds me,” I grab the last grocery bag and start dumping out the contents, “Remind me to give your brother back the expensive ass jewelry he gave me for the ball.”

Klaus grabs a loaf of bread and places it in the bread box, “Good luck with that, Luv. My brother can be more stubborn than I am when it comes to you.”

I put a hand on my hip, “Elijah? Stubborn? I highly doubt that.”

The kitchen is quiet for a moment before a loud laugh comes out of Klaus’ mouth. I pause what I’m doing and find myself smiling as I watch the pretty man in front of me. 

“Luv,” Klaus manages to get out between laughs, “The only reason you haven’t seen that side of my older brother is because he hasn’t let you…or really doesn’t want you to see that side of him. Don’t get me wrong, Elijah is noble,” Klaus rolls his eyes, “Annoyingly so. But he is also the pettiest being I have come across in over a thousand years. There is no one I know that will play dirtier than him when it comes to protecting the people he cares about. And you luv,” Klaus takes a step closer to me so he can reach out to grab a piece of my hair and twirl it between his fingers, “Are at the top of his list of loved ones.”

—-

“Well this was almost not horrible,” I tell Klaus as I walk him to the front door. 

Klaus snorts sarcastically, “And that was almost a compliment. You and I are making great progress.”

I roll my eyes and open the door for him and his smirk drops, “But in all honesty, Y/n… I-,” Klaus pauses as if he’s having a hard time trying to find the words.

“Me too Klaus. Thank you for coming with me today. It was nice not having to do it by myself like usual.”

Klaus smiles, “You know I could always hire someone to do your shopping for you.”

I raise an eyebrow, “You mean compel someone?”

Klaus’ upper lip quirks, “I never said that.”

I tilt my head, “You didn’t need to.”

Klaus rolls his eyes playfully before shrugging, “Well whenever you get tired of mundane shopping let me know, Luv.”

“Goodbye, Klaus,” I push him outside and he lets me.

“Goodbye, Luv.”

—

“Who is this?”

I pad around the kitchen with my bowl of ice cream as I answer an unknown call.

“Sage. Damon’s friend from earlier. You told me to get your number from him,” The feminine voice makes my eyes widen and I place my ice cream down on the counter.

“Oh! Hi! How are you?”

“Um, I’m alright. How are you,” Her tone comes out slightly confused. 

“Eh, eating ice cream. What can I help you with Sage?”

“Finding my beloved, Finn.”

Oh, shit ya. 

“Oh right, ya me and Finn and tight. He’s been waiting for you,” I say as I take a spoonful of ice cream and put it into my mouth.

“He has,” The hopefulness in her voice makes me smile.

“Umhm. And you didn’t hear this from me but he thinks you are his soulmate.”

Sage is quiet for a moment, “I know he’s mine. Will you help me find him?”

“Ya, sure when do you want to meet?”

“Now?”

Her rushed tone makes me pause and look at my fluffy bunny slippers, PJ shorts and my “I Heart my Turtle” shirt.

“It’s 10 pm?”

“Yes, I know… please Y/n, I’ve waited 900 years for this moment. I can’t wait another second.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, “Um ya sure…I’ll text you my address.”

—-

“You’re not going to try to kill me right?”

Sage, who stands at the front of my door raises an eyebrow, “If I even thought about causing you harm Klaus and Elijah would be here in under a minute ripping me to shreds.”

I nod. Good Point.

“Come in.”

Sage takes a hesitant step over the threshold and into my small entryway.

“Your house is…”

I roll my eyes, “What? Quaint?”

“Homey,” Sage smiles softly, “It looks like a home,” She takes off her jacket and holds it in her arms, “The only thing that kept me going after Klaus daggered my Finn was the hope that one day he and I could have something like this… something that we could call our home.”

I fight the urge to let out a loud “awww.”

“Well then, we shouldn’t keep Finn waiting,” I grab my jacket and place it over my PJ shirt.

“Wait…”

I turn at Sage’s voice and my stomach drops when I see the guilty look on her face.

“Please tell me you're not actually going to kill me,” I raise my hands up in a fighting stance and she shakes her head.

“No, but… you’re helping me out of the kindness of your heart so I have to admit something to you…”

I stand there completely quiet and still as she goes on to tell me the information she’s done tonight. From having a threesome with Damon and Bekah (gross) to going into Bekah’s mind to learn that Wickery Bridge was actually made from the same tree that the white oak came from and that if the Salvatore’s got a hold of it they’d kill the Mikaelsons. 

“So…what do we do?”

Sage shakes her head, “I don’t know.”

We stand there in silence for a moment before a Theo-level-bad-idea comes to my mind, “I’m going to propose something. But if the cops show up you’re compelling us out of there.”

Sage gives me a worried look. 

—

“Ok,” I put my hands on Sage’s shoulders and positioned her in the doorway out of sight, “You stay here and I’ll go get him. When I tell you to come in, you can.”

Sage eyes my hands, “I thought you had a thing about touch? And also why can’t I just come in with you now?” I shrug, “1. After what we just did, I’d say we bonded so I feel like our relationship has progressed, and also I’m touching you over your clothes…it’s skin-to-skin that irks me. And 2. Obviously for dramatic effect.”

I excitedly turn around and whip open the front door to the Mikaelson Mansion, catching the last of Sage muttering something about me fitting right in with the Mikaelsons.

“PHINEAS!!!”

“Bloody hell, Little Doll,” A sarcastic British voice has me rolling my eyes, “We’re all immortal here. No need for the yelling.”

I turn and meet Kol’s brown eyes. 

“My bad. Wheres Finn?”

“Elskan?”

“Is that Y/n?”

“Luv, miss me already?”

Elijah, Bekah, and Klaus all enter the foyer with combined looks of confusion, whilst Kol is approaching me with an amused look on his face.

“And what’s with the outfit? You have a turtle?”

I shake my head, “No.”

Kol just frowns.

Elijah, still dressed in his suit even though it’s past midnight, hastily approaches me, “Elskan what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“Chill, Elijah,” I smile at him which seems to make him relax a bit, “I’m good. I fulfilling a duty I have for your brother.”

“For me,” Klaus’ annoying smirk is plastered on his face as his eyes roam my body. 

“No,” I glare at him and point to my face, “And my face is up here.”

Klaus smiles but turns his attention back to my face.

“Y/N?”

My attention turns towards the top of the stairs where Finn is now standing and I have the fight the urge to ruin the surprise right now.

“I have something for you Finn,” I bounce on the heels of my toes and he descends the grand staircase.

“For me?”

Finn’s unsure look only makes me more excited as I nod my head hastily. 

“You can come out now,” I call behind me and all the Mikaelson instantly tense up, probably thinking it’s a threat.

I don’t even have to look behind me to know Sage has entered the room because I’m looking at the utterly bewildered look on Finn’s face.

“Sage? Is that you?”

Finn takes slow steps closer to Sage and I.

“It’s me, Finn… I’ve missed you so much,” As soon as Sage says that Finn is running to embrace her. 

I feel my cheeks start to hurt from smiling so hard as I watch the couple kiss, embrace, and, share quiet words with one another.

“You did this?”

I look away to find Elijah at my side with a soft expression on his face.

I nod and look back at the couple, “At the ball Finn and I talked and I told him I’d help him find Sage. I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to do it… but she kinda just showed up thankfully. Not that Finn needs to know the last part,” I whisper to Elijah.

Elijah doesn’t respond which makes me turn back to him. Once again he has the earth-shattering look in his eyes that makes my knees feel like they’re going to buckle.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” I mutter as I try to go back to looking at Sage and Finn so I don’t have to look at him.

“Because I love you.”

Oh. 

OH.

I whip my head back towards Elijah so fast I think I might’ve pulled something and stare at him wide-eyed. 

“Nuh-uh.”

Elijah’s eyebrows furrow but his lip twitches letting me know he’s finding my reaction entertaining, “Nuh uh?”

“Ya, nuh uh?”

“Well, I do.” 

“Nope.”

Elijah lets out a soft sigh, “You’ll accept the love I have for you one day…but even if today isn’t that day I want you to know it. That I do.”

I side-eye the man standing next to me bite down hard on my lip and nod. 

“Hold up,” Kol’s annoying voice pierces the air breaking everyone from their conversations. 

“What now, Kol?”

I would laugh at Klaus’ annoyed tone if it weren’t for the state of shock I’m currently in.

“Why do the two of you smell like gasoline?”

Everyone in the rooms stops, and I watch as they smell the air and then turn to Sage and I. Sage turns to me though with a raised eyebrow. 

“Breaking News,” The loud voice of a newscaster comes from the living room beside us, “Mystic Falls historic Wickery Bridge, has been burned down. Police and firefighters are currently at the scene. Was this a natural fire or something more criminal? When we find out you’ll be the first to know. This is Margot Fell reporting live from Channel 9 news.”

I blink and blow out a low breath as I turn back to the Mikaelsons who already have their eyes glued on me. 

“Sooo, Sage and I have something to tell you.”

[malum-forev]

What's Past is Past

Summary: After months of not seeing Bucky, you're sent on a mission together, faking your way through a marriage. But it doesn't seem either of you are ready for it.

Ex-Bucky-Barnes x Spy-Reader

The bustling city and towering skyscrapers fade into an endless stretch of flat road faster than you expected. You never thought your job would take you beyond New York-then again, you never thought you’d be fighting alongside Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. 

For someone who consistently complains about subway delays and long for the fresh air your friends back home rave about, you’re surprisingly emotional about leaving. Even if it’s just for a month. 

Maybe it’s because you always imagined that when you finally left the city, it would be with the man of your dreams behind the wheel. 

But this? This is nothing like what you imagined. 

Sure, you have a diamond ring on your finger and a good man by your side but it’s all fake.

You pass through the only street in town, where time seems to have stopped. Everything looks as if it’s been suspended in the 1960’s.

“It says the house is just up the road.” 

It’s the first time in four hours that Bucky has spoken. He mumbled a broken hey when you got in the car, but after that, the only sound between you was the low rumble of the engine.

You hum in agreement. 

The house is nice-it’s not what you would’ve choose for yourself, but it’s nice. 

“I’m gonna get set up,” You don’t turn around as you step out of the car, heading to the trunk. 

“Let me help you with your stuff,” Bucky opens it before you can stop him.

You grab your suitcase before he can touch it. “I don’t need your help.”

“I was just trying to be nice,” he mutters as you walk past him. 

Inside, you set up your equipment, all facing south, toward your target: an ex-HYDRA assassin who’s been causing trouble.  

In any other situation, Bucky would be the worst person for this mission. But your new neighbor has had his mind wiped so many times he probably can’t tell his left hand from his right. He’s trained to kill. And you can’t have that.

A few hours later, there’s a knock at your door. 

“I was thinking of ordering a pizza. You want any?” Bucky asks, rolling his neck. 

“No, thank you.” You keep your eyes on the screen. The faster this mission ends, the faster you can leave all this behind. 

“C’mon, you need to eat.” He sighs, leaning on the doorframe. “You want your usual?”

You freeze. 

“Don’t do that.” You try to sound firm, but your voice barely comes out as a whisper.

“Do what?”

Finally, you look at him-for the first time all day. His steel-blue eyes meet yours. 

You’ve thought of this moment for months, ever since  everything between you imploded. But not even your wildest scenarios compare to the real thing. 

You thought you were completely over him, but the ache in your chest calls you a liar. 

“Don’t bring up our past,” you rip your gaze away. 

He throws his head back with a dry laugh. “Am I supposed to just forget that you like your pizza extra toasted? That your favorite color is navy? That you smile when the clouds turn darker?”

“Yes.” You snap. “You’re supposed to forget everything, that’s what you wanted-“

You stop yourself. “I can’t go down this road, Bucky.”

“Bucky?” He echoes with a scoff. “We’re back to regular names?”

That does it. 

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Yes! We’re back to our regular names, because that’s what you wanted! Did you expect me to still call you Jamie when you dumped without so much as a goodbye?”

“You’re acting like you wanted me to stay?” Bucky crosses his arms. “Like I was the perfect boyfriend?”

You shake your head. 

An amused look flashes through his face. “Are you saying I was better than the guy you’re with right now?”

“Bucky, stop,” you warn. 

“C’mon,” he raises his eyebrows. “Tell me, who’s better.”

“Oh, you want a final review? Is that why you’ve been trying to contact me? So I can give you a letter of recommendation?” You roll your eyes. “Fine, here it is. You were a great boyfriend. Attentive, loving, gentle. Until you let your own insecurities eat you alive. I tried to help you, Bucky. But you wouldn’t let me.”

Your voice cracks. 

“Then, you packed your shit and signed up for the longest mission you could find,” Your eyes prickle. “You left me. And I had to hear from someone at the compound that you’d already moved on.”

Bucky swallows hard, his eyes searching yours.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Overall, I’d give it a 6/10.”

Bucky opens his mouth to say something but you stop him. 

“Let’s just get this mission over with,” you twist the fake ring on your finger. “I have someone to get home to.”

Authors Note: tbh idk what this is, I was just dyyyyinggg to write over here again! I've been MIA becauseeeee I wrote a book LOL. Nothing to do with marvel, sadly but I would love to know if anyone here would be interested in reading it. If so, please let me know in the comments so I can tag you when I upload the first couple of chapters on here!

Anywayyyssss thanks for the love and support! Don't forget to like, reblog, and comment. It helps out a lot! Remember: my asks are always open!

[rosiecosy]

tied to you˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

(dino x reader)

“we’re here!”

the door to the bridal suite slams open, and seventeen bursts in like an overenthusiastic stampede, their suits barely containing their energy.

“are you ready?” soonyoung practically vibrates. “are you nervous? do you wanna run? say the word, and i’ll cause a distraction.”

jeonghan rolls his eyes. “you just want an excuse to cause chaos.”

“yeah.”

seungkwan sighs dramatically, already dabbing at his eyes. “i just can’t believe chan is getting married before mingyu.”

“hey,” mingyu frowns. “what does that mean?”

you giggle, adjusting the lace on your dress. “it means chan’s just ahead of the game.”

seokmin gasps, clutching his chest. “oh my god, you’re defending him now. you really do love him.”

“that’s kinda the point,” joshua chuckles.

“no, no,” jun shakes his head. “the point is, she’s officially one of us now.”

minghao crosses his arms. “which means we can roast her, too.”

wonwoo nods. “we should prepare initiation.”

you snort. “you guys act like i haven’t been dealing with you for years.”

seungcheol steps forward, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. his voice softens. “but really—are you okay?”

you take a breath, heart swelling at the sight of them all, at the warmth in their eyes.

“i’m more than okay,” you say. “i’m ready.”

they collectively sigh in relief.

“good,” woozi says. “because chan’s been pacing for the past twenty minutes, and if we don’t start soon, i think he might combust.”

—

chan is, in fact, about to combust.

his tie feels too tight. his palms are sweating. he’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, ignoring mingyu’s amused snickers.

then—

the doors open.

his breath leaves his body.

it doesn’t make sense, how someone he sees every day—someone he already knows is the love of his life—can still stun him. but here you are, walking toward him, and he swears his heart might actually give out.

“breathe,” seungcheol mutters.

chan barely hears him.

you reach him, slipping your hand into his. his grip is warm, grounding, desperate.

“hi,” you whisper.

chan exhales, squeezing your hand like he can’t believe you’re real. “hi.”

the officiant starts talking, but chan only hears the way you giggle softly when he fumbles with the ring, the way your fingers linger against his when you slide his on.

then—

“you may now kiss the bride.”

seventeen erupts.

“DO IT PROPERLY!” soonyoung yells.

“USE TONGUE!” dk adds, earning a smack from seungkwan.

chan groans, covering his face. “oh my god, can you not?”

you laugh, grabbing his hands and tugging them down. “ignore them, husband.”

his breath stutters at the word.

husband.

chan doesn’t hesitate. he cups your face, lips pressing against yours, and the second he does, the cheers double—mingyu actually whistles.

but chan doesn’t care.

he just pulls you closer, arms tight around you, lips curling into a smile against yours.

when he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, voice full of wonder.

“we did it.”

you grin. “you’re stuck with me now.”

chan laughs, lifting you off your feet just because he can. “good. because i’m never letting you go.”

[worthlessnepenthes]

So I reblogged this because it’s funny but then I thought about YQY for a second, and reblogged again so I could talk.

This isn’t going to be any new, profound thoughts for the fandom I’m sure but they’re new to me and I wanna talk for a minute.

I, personally, do not like YQY. I don’t HATE him, but I don’t like him. But I do feel sorriest for him, out of all the SVSSS and PIDW characters. I often forget that when he left SJ, he too was a literal child. Yes, he probably could have done better—told his master he needed help to save his brother, heck, told a fellow shidi or shixiong once he got to the peak. He was probably popular. I can’t imagine no one would have been willing to help him. But he was also a child, so I forgive him. He suffered and hurt himself, grievously, permanently causing himself a chronic condition in his attempts to get back to DJ. I don’t know that I think he did everything he COULD, but I do believe he did everything he THOUGHT he could.

And then Shen Jiu shows up, much like a feral cat, and constantly lashes out and hurts YQY. Their strained relationship is absolutely caused on both ends. It’s hard to say, ‘Well, YQY should have just KNOWN that SJ wasn’t going to the brothels to sleep with whores/didn’t kill LQG/wasn’t abusing Ning Ning/whatever other terrible things he was accused of,’ when SJ was, in fact, very verbally abusive and physically abusive to at least one disciple (lbh. Do we even get a canon reason WHY he hates him so much?), and verbally abusive to YQY, and to most likely many other characters.

However, maybe if YQY had actually stood up for SJ and said ‘No, this is a misunderstanding, this is not what happened,’ instead of just assuming that SJ had done whatever terrible thing and then covering for him in a sense of guilt, maybe things wouldn’t have been so bad. Or if YQY said, ‘take out your anger on me, it’s all my fault, but leave the others alone’. (It wasn’t, and SJ is wrong for acting this way.)

Honestly if they had ever fucking COMMUNICATED instead of just assuming the actual fucking worst of each other, while still deeply loving the other (in whatever romantic or platonic way they had, they loved the other) no matter whether they ever said it or not, a lot could have been avoided. Like PIDW YQY’s death.

Or hell, if Airplane had ever written about Xianxia mental health care instead of probably curing depression with papapa!

But the relationship between SJ and YQY is almost worse and more horrifying after SY comes through. YQY KNOWS it isn’t SJ, but every test they do show he isn’t possessed. So maybe it really is SJ, and all SJ needed to become happy was simply…to forget almost everything, but especially any time SJ and YQY spent together before they became Peak Lords.

So YQY is still trying to make it up to a person that he both thinks is there and thinks is not there, never knowing for sure. Every emotion he has towards this ‘new’ SJ feeling like a betrayal, ‘if only SJ could have acted like this before!’

Yeah. It’s really horrifying. He never gets the comfort of knowing for certain that SJ is gone, never gets to properly grieve and burn incense for him. But he also always feels just slightly off kilter with SY, and then feels guilt, because this is SJ! And even if it isn’t…what can YQY do about it?

YQY has many sleepless nights, wondering, after SY shows up.

I don’t like YQY, but I feel sorry for him. He is the most pitiful character in the book to me.

Shen Qingqiu, pissed off during a peak lord meeting: when I die I want Shang-shidi to lower me into the earth, just so he can let me down one last time

Shang Qinghua: bro c'mon

Yue Qingyuan, abruptly overcome by jealousy so intense that he's on the verge of a qi deviation: but I thought I was the one who let Xiao Jiu down the most...?

[lov3notts]

rewritten

theodore nott x reader

summary: part 3, can Theo fix things between you two? after so much heartbreak can you give him a second chance?

a/n:im sorry this took so long, I got hit with writers block and discouragement, hope you guys like it!!

Navigation; masterlist; request rules; part 1; part 2

Mattheo had seen Theo at his lowest before. After brutal duels, after fights with his father, after sleepless nights filled with too much firewhisky and not enough self-preservation. But this? This was different.

This wasn’t anger. Wasn’t recklessness.

This was nothingness.

Theo was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it had the answers to all of his problems. His dorm was a disaster—papers scattered, books left open, untouched meals sitting cold on his desk. The only movement in the room came from the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Mattheo leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed."Mate."

No response.

"You look like shit."

Still nothing.

Mattheo sighed, running a hand through his hair before stepping further into the room. "Alright, fine. You wanna sit here and wallow, go ahead. But you do know this isn’t sustainable, right?"

Theo didn’t even blink.

"Skipping class, not eating, shutting everyone out—what’s the end goal here?"

Silence.

Mattheo clenched his jaw, patience wearing thin. He walked over and grabbed a book off Theo’s desk before chucking it at him. It hit his shoulder, but Theo barely reacted.

That pissed Mattheo off.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" he snapped. "What, you’re just gonna waste away in here? That’s your big plan?"

Finally, Theo shifted. Slowly, he looked up, his face pale and hollow. His voice, when he spoke, was rough. "What do you want me to do, Mattheo?"

"Oh, I don’t know—anything but this?" Mattheo gestured around the room. "You’ve made some stupid decisions before, but this? This is pathetic, even for you."

Theo let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Yeah. That sounds about right."

Mattheo exhaled sharply, dragging a chair closer and sitting across from him. "Listen, I get it. You fucked up. Big time. But wasting away in here isn’t gonna change that. You want her back? Fight for her. You want to move on? Then do it. But don’t just sit here acting like your life is over because she walked away."

Theo’s eyes darkened. "It is over."

Mattheo froze.

It wasn’t the words that shook him—it was the way Theo meant them.

"You don’t get it," Theo muttered, voice raw. "She wasn’t just some girl, Mattheo. She was everything. And I ruined it. I ruined her." His fingers dug into his knees, knuckles white. "So tell me, what exactly am I supposed to do now?"

For the first time, Mattheo didn’t have a quick response. Because fuck—he didn’t know.

He had never seen Theo like this before.

But he did know one thing.

"You need to talk to her," he said finally.

Theo scoffed, shaking his head. "She won’t listen."

Mattheo leaned forward. "Not if you keep sulking like a bloody ghost. But if you really love her? Then you have to at least try."

Theo swallowed hard, his walls cracking just a bit.

Mattheo sighed, standing up. "Look, I can’t force you to get your shit together. But I can ask for help." He glanced toward the door. "If you won’t go to her, maybe she’ll come to you."

Theo’s head snapped up. "Mattheo—"

"Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle," Mattheo said with a smirk, but there was no humor behind it. "Just sit tight, yeah?"

And with that, he walked out, leaving Theo alone with his demons.

The days after your fight with Theodore Nott were oddly quiet. Not because the world had stopped moving, but because a part of you had. No matter how much you tried to push forward, his words still echoed in your head.

“it was just a bet!”

Now, you were sitting in the Great Hall, trying to focus on your breakfast when a presence loomed over you.

"Can we talk?"

You glanced up and met Mattheo Riddle’s gaze. His usual smirk was absent, his dark eyes serious. That alone sent a chill down your spine. Mattheo never looked serious.

You hesitated. "Depends. What about?"

He exhaled sharply and took a seat across from you without invitation. "It’s Theo."

Your stomach twisted, but you masked it with indifference. "Not my problem."

Mattheo scoffed. "Yeah, well, that’s the thing. He’s not exactly making himself anyone’s problem anymore. He’s barely eating, hasn’t been to class in days, and I haven’t seen him leave his room since—" He stopped himself, but you knew what he was about to say.

Since you left him on his knees in the library.

You forced yourself to take a bite of toast, despite suddenly losing your appetite. "And what do you expect me to do about it?"

"You don’t have to do anything. But maybe… just talk to him?"

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. "You do remember that he completely shattered my trust, right? That I was just some game to him?"

Mattheo ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I know, okay? I know he screwed up. And if you never want to see him again, I get it. But…" His voice lowered. "I don’t think he’s okay. I don’t think he will be if someone doesn’t pull him out of whatever the hell he’s drowning in."

That made your chest tighten. No matter how much Theo had hurt you, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t care. But did you care enough to reopen old wounds? To look at the person who betrayed you and risk getting hurt all over again?

Mattheo must have seen your hesitation because he leaned forward, his voice softer now. "I wouldn’t be here begging if I thought he could fix this himself. But he can’t. And like it or not, you’re the only one who can get through to him."

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the table.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea.

But deep down, you already knew what you were going to do.

You stood in front of his dormitory door, your hand hovering over the doorknob, the air thick with uncertainty. You’d come here, but now that you were standing here, the doubt crept back in. Was this the right choice? Could you really face him? Could you even talk to him without everything you felt rushing back—without everything he did rushing back?

You knocked softly, but there was no response. The quiet only made the pressure in your chest grow. Hesitant, you slowly turned the knob, and to your surprise, the door creaked open.

The room was dim, only a few rays of light slipping through the curtains. And there, in the middle of the room, was Theodore Nott. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling with an unreadable expression. His body was curled into itself, as if he were trying to shrink away from the world.

A pang of guilt surged through you. You wanted to turn away, to run, but you couldn’t.

Your feet moved before you could stop them, one step at a time, until you were standing beside his bed. You swallowed hard, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside you. "Theo?"

His head snapped toward the sound of your voice, his eyes wide with shock. His expression froze as he stared at you—like he was afraid, as if seeing you might be some cruel trick. His eyes, so full of confusion and fear, shimmered with unshed tears.

"Y/N?… You came?" His voice was barely a whisper, like he didn’t believe you were really there.

A wave of emotion washed over you, but you pushed it down, trying to keep your voice steady. "Mattheo said you weren’t doing well.”

Theo didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, as if your words hadn’t even fully registered yet. His eyes searched your face, every line of his body tense, too afraid to even move, like any sudden movement would make you disappear. You could see how broken he looked, how much he wanted to believe this wasn’t just some dream.

He opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself, as if trying to find the right words, or maybe wondering if words even mattered anymore.

You glanced past him into the room. It was a mess—books scattered, clothes thrown carelessly, a tray of untouched food on the desk. It smelled like stale air and something heartbreakingly lonely.

You hesitated before speaking. "This isn’t you, Theo."

"I don’t know who I am without you," he admitted, voice raw.

You turned to him sharply, something inside you cracking at the sheer honesty in his voice. "Theo…"

"No, let me say this."He exhaled shakily, running a trembling hand through his hair. "I know I don’t deserve to ask for anything from you. I don’t deserve to stand here and beg, but—" He cut himself off, pressing his lips together like he was trying to hold himself together.

And then, quietly, "I don’t know how to exist without you."

Your breath hitched. "You were the one who broke us, Theo. You made that choice."

"I know." His voice cracked. "And I hate myself for it. Every second of every day, I regret it. The bet, the lies, all of it—it was the biggest mistake of my life."

You swallowed, arms tightening around yourself. "Then why did you do it?"

"Because I was a coward." He let out a bitter laugh. "Because I had you—this brilliant, beautiful, impossible thing—and I was terrified that you were too good to be real. That I would love you and you would leave, so I ruined it before you could."

His confession left you breathless.

You had spent so long believing you were never enough for him. That you had been nothing but a game. But hearing this—hearing that he had been just as scared as you had—made your chest ache.

"I never wanted to hurt you," Theo whispered. "But I did. And I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I need you to know that I loved you. That I still do."

You blinked, eyes burning. "Theo…"

"I would move mountains just to be with you again," he continued, voice shaking. "Even if it takes years. Even if you never look at me the same way again. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that you were never just a bet to me."

Tears slipped down your cheeks, unbidden, and Theo’s breath stuttered like the sight of your pain was physically hurting him.

He reached out instinctively but stopped himself, his hands hovering inches from yours. "Tell me there’s still a chance." His voice was barely a whisper. "Even if it’s not today. Even if it’s not soon. Just tell me I haven’t lost you forever."

You stood there, heart hammering, torn between the pain of the past and the boy in front of you—broken, vulnerable, real.

This was the moment.

The moment where you could walk away, close the door, leave him to his regret.

Or you could stay.

You took a breath.

And then, finally, you spoke.

The first few days after you left his dorm were the hardest.

Theo had promised you he’d fix himself, that he’d become better—not for you, but for himself first. But promises were just words, and words had never been enough. Not when he had already shattered your trust once.

So, for the first time in weeks, he forced himself out of bed.

It wasn’t easy. The weight of his mistakes clung to him like a sickness, making even the smallest things feel impossible. Eating felt pointless. Attending class felt meaningless. But he did it anyway. One step at a time.

At breakfast, Mattheo raised an eyebrow when Theo sat down at their usual table, his plate only half-full.

"Didn’t think I’d see you out of that damn room anytime soon," Mattheo muttered, nudging his shoulder.

Theo didn’t respond right away, just picked at his food before finally saying, "I need to fix things."

Mattheo huffed out a short laugh, though there was no malice behind it. "Yeah? And how do you plan on doing that?"

Theo didn’t have an answer yet. But he knew one thing—he couldn’t keep being this version of himself. The one who wallowed in his grief, who drowned in guilt without trying to swim to the surface.

So, he changed.

He stopped avoiding the world. Stopped shutting people out.

He went to class, even when his mind screamed at him to go back to bed. He studied harder than he ever had before, pouring himself into books instead of his own self-loathing. When his friends spoke to him, he actually listened instead of shutting them out.

He even picked up his journal again, spilling his thoughts onto paper in a desperate attempt to make sense of the chaos inside his head. He wrote letters—ones meant for you, ones that would never be sent. Some were apologies, some were confessions, but all of them were real.

But it wasn’t about getting you back.

It was about becoming someone who deserved you.

Someone you could trust again.

Weeks passed before he saw you again.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t fate. It was just life forcing their paths to cross like it always did.

You were sitting by the Black Lake, your nose buried in a book, completely lost in the words. He should’ve walked away. Should’ve kept his distance. But his feet betrayed him, halting a few steps away from you.

You must’ve felt his presence because you looked up, your eyes meeting his.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Theo braced himself for the worst—coldness, anger, maybe even indifference. But instead, you studied him, like if you were trying to figure out if the person standing before you was the same one who had broken your heart.

"You look… different," you said softly.

Theo swallowed. "I had to be."

your gaze didn’t waver. "Why?"

"Because the person I was before didn’t deserve you."

Something flickered in your expression, but you didn’t look away. You just nodded, your grip tightening around the book on your lap.

Not forgiveness. Not yet.

But something.

Weeks turned into months. Theo didn’t push, didn’t force his way back into your life. He just showed up.

Not in the obvious ways. He didn’t beg or plead. Didn’t bombard her with apologies. Instead, he proved himself in the quiet moments.

He helped first-years struggling with their potions when no one was watching. He started paying attention in class, excelling in subjects he used to neglect. He let people rely on him, let himself become someone trustworthy—not just to you, but to everyone around him.

And then, when the time was right, he left something for you.

A book.

Your favorite one, sitting on the library table where you used to study together. But inside, tucked between the pages, were letters.

Dozens of them. Some dated weeks ago, some written only days before.

You hesitated before picking it up, flipping through the pages. And then you saw the first note.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry One

Date: The Night You Left

I haven’t stopped thinking about the look in your eyes. The way you froze. The way your breath caught like I had knocked the air out of you.

I keep telling myself that if I had just shut up, if I had just walked away instead of letting my anger win, you’d still be here. But I didn’t. I let the worst version of myself take control, and now I have to live with the fact that the last thing you heard from me was a lie.

Because that’s what it was. A lie.

You were never a bet.

Not for a single second.

You were the first thing in my life that ever felt real. The first person who looked at me like I was worth something. The first person I ever truly, fully loved. And I threw that away. I let my pride, my temper, my own self-destruction take over, and I broke the one thing I never wanted to lose.

I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t even know if I can. But if I have to spend the rest of my life proving to you that what we had—what we have—is real, then I will.

Even if it’s too late.

—Theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry 2

Date: One Week Without You

I see you everywhere.

In the empty chair across from me in the library. In the spaces between my fingers where yours used to fit. In the quiet moments where your voice used to live.

And I wonder—do you miss me at all? Do you hear my name in whispers? Do you reach for me in your sleep? Or am I just a scar you’re waiting to fade?

If you told me to wait for you, I would. I would wait for days, for months, for years—as long as it took for you to believe that I never meant those words. That you were never a game to me. That you were the only thing that ever made sense in my life.

But you haven’t told me anything.

So I wait anyway.

Because I can’t imagine a world where I ever stop hoping for you.

—Theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry 3

Date: Two Weeks Without You

I should’ve told you how beautiful you looked in the mornings, when your hair was a mess and your voice was still laced with sleep.

I should’ve told you how your laugh could pull me out of my worst days, how it became the sound I searched for in crowded rooms.

I should’ve told you that loving you scared me. That it made me feel like I had something to lose for the first time in my life.

I should’ve told you that the night we had our first kiss, I went back to my dorm, sat on my bed, and smiled—just sat there, grinning like an idiot, because I knew, in that moment, that I was done for. That you had ruined me for anyone else.

I should’ve told you that I loved you more than I loved myself.

Maybe if I had, you’d still be here.

-theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry 4

Date: three Weeks Without You

You probably don’t know that I still sit in the library, right where you left me. Not every night. Just the ones where I can’t breathe.

You probably don’t know that I reread our old notes, the ones we used to pass back and forth in class. I keep them in my bag like they’re sacred, like they’re proof that once, you laughed with me. That once, I wasn’t just a mistake to you.

You probably don’t know that every time I hear your name, my hands shake.

That I’ve started keeping a list of all the things I should’ve done differently.

That I miss you in a way that feels like it might kill me.

But the worst part?

You probably don’t care anymore.

And I deserve that.

—Theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry 5

Date: The Day You Knocked on My Door

I thought I was dreaming.

I heard the knock, but I didn’t move. I figured it was Mattheo, coming to drag me out of this room again, to remind me that I’m still supposed to be alive, even when I feel like I’m not.

But then I heard your voice.

And suddenly, I was alive.

I was shocked to see you. Not because I didn’t want to see you—I ached to see you—but because I was afraid. Afraid that I had imagined it. Afraid that you were here just to tell me, to my face, that you were done for good.

But you weren’t.

You were there.

Standing in my doorway, looking at me like you didn’t recognize me anymore. Maybe you don’t. Maybe I really am just a shell of the person you once loved.

You didn’t say anything at first. And I didn’t either. I was too busy memorizing the way your hands twitched at your sides, the way your lips parted slightly like you wanted to speak but didn’t know where to start.

And then, finally—"Mattheo said I should talk to you."

Your voice was quieter than I remembered. Or maybe I had just forgotten what it was like to hear it so close.

I wanted to tell you everything. I wanted to fall to my knees again and beg, to tell you that I haven’t slept, that I haven’t breathed right since you walked away, that I would do anything to rewrite the past.

But instead, I just nodded.

Because I knew this wasn’t my moment to fall apart. This was your moment to decide if I was worth saving.

So I stood there.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Daring to believe that maybe—just maybe—you hadn’t given up on me yet.

—Theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Entry 6

Date: One Month Without You

I don’t just want your forgiveness.

I want your trust. Your laughter. Your sleepy morning voice. The way you roll your eyes at me but secretly smile when you think I’m not looking. The way you say my name like it’s something safe.

I want you.

And I know I have no right to ask for that.

But if there is even the smallest chance—if there is even the tiniest sliver of hope that you still look at me and see something worth saving—then I will not waste it.

I will prove it to you. With every breath, with every action, with every single moment I have left in this life.

Because I love you.

And I will spend a lifetime making it right.

—Theo

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

At first, your hands tremble. The pages feel heavier than they should, like they’re carrying all the weight of the past, of everything left unsaid, of him.

You tell yourself you’ll just read one. Just a glimpse. Just to know if he even cares.

But then one turns into two. Then three. Then all of them.

And suddenly, you can’t breathe.

Because this isn’t just guilt. This isn’t just some empty apology, some desperate attempt to win you back with words. This is raw. This is pain. This is love.

This is a boy breaking himself open, spilling every ugly, unspoken truth onto paper because he doesn’t know how else to reach you.

And God, you feel it.

You feel it in the way his handwriting shakes in some letters but steadies in others, like he’s fighting himself, like he’s trying to hold on and let go at the same time.

You feel it in the confessions he never said out loud—the ones about how he saw you in everything, how he would’ve moved mountains to take it all back, how he doesn’t just want you to forgive him, he wants you to trust him.

And when you read the last letter—the one about how he would spend a lifetime making it right—you realize something.

He never stopped fighting for you.

Not once.

Not even when he thought he had already lost.

And then, with your chest so tight it almost hurts, you look up.

He’s already watching you.

Theo looks like he’s barely breathing, like the moment is too fragile, like if he moves too fast, you might disappear. There’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen in a long time—something that almost makes your throat close up.

Hope.

He doesn’t say anything. He’s waiting. Letting you decide what happens next.

And for the first time in a long time, you realize…

He means it.

Every word. Every promise.

The silence between you stretches, thick with everything unsaid. The letters are still clutched in your hands, his words lingering in your chest, pressing against the pieces of your heart that you swore were too broken to be put back together.

Theo swallows hard. His hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for you but doesn’t dare. "Say something," he finally murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please."

You inhale sharply, steadying yourself. "Do you really mean it?"

He doesn’t hesitate. "Every word."

"And you’re not just saying all of this because you miss me? Because you feel guilty?" Your voice is careful, guarded—because this has to be real. If you give him your heart again, there’s no surviving if he shatters it a second time.

Theo steps closer. Not too close, but enough that you can see the raw desperation in his eyes. "I’m saying this because losing you was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Because I was an idiot, and I hurt you, and I will never forgive myself for that." He pauses, his breath shaky. "But more than anything, I’m saying it because I love you. I never stopped. And I never will.*"

Your heart clenches painfully. "Theo…"

"You don’t have to say it back," he cuts in quickly. "You don’t have to promise me anything. Just—" He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. "Just tell me there’s a chance. Tell me I haven’t lost you forever."

You look at him then, really look at him. He’s not the same person he was that night in the library. He’s not the boy who let pride and recklessness ruin the best thing in his life. He’s different. He’s trying.

And that’s when you know.

You step forward, closing the distance between you. His breath catches as your hand brushes against his—light, hesitant, but enough to make his whole body go still.

"I’m still angry," you admit softly. "I’m still hurt."

Theo nods, his jaw tightening. "I know."

"But…" You take a breath, steadying yourself. "I believe you."

His eyes widen slightly, like he wasn’t expecting those words. "You—"

"I believe that you mean it," you clarify. "And if you’re really going to prove it—if you’re really going to fight for this—"

You pause, feeling the weight of this moment. Then, finally, you say the words that make his breath shudder.

"Then I’m willing to try."

For a second, Theo doesn’t move. He just stares at you, like he’s afraid he imagined it. But then—

"You won’t regret it," he swears, his voice cracking slightly. "I swear on everything, I won’t waste this chance."

And when he finally, finally takes your hand—holding it like it’s the most precious thing in the world— you let him.

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

tag list: @simp-for-fantasy @nottinmyheart

[rafesslxt]

unknown number

pt. 1/2

SUMMARY: not only you are surprised when you get a drunk text from your brother that you should pick him up from a party - Topper's just as shocked as you are.

WARNINGS: Thornton!reader, brothers best friend trope, bickering, tension, quick deep talk with Topper

WORD COUNT: 1,7k

NOTE: english is not my first language | thank‘s to everyone for reading and supporting, comments and - are highly apprecaiated <3

🥥 🍋‍🟩 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 🥭 🍍

Your body tried to make its way through the sweaty crowd dancing and drinking around you, the air thick with the scent of weed and expensive perfume. This wasn't on your agenda for tonight, getting your drunk brother out of a party, that's for sure.

"Hey sis, can u get me? I'm drunk as hell."

You weren't surprised, though. After Sarah had ditched him for John B, which was more than understandable for you but hey – Topper never wanted to listen to your advice, he seemed to try drowning the pain and hurt ego away by drinking and smoking.

The house you currently were in was familiar to you. Since Sarah's your best friend you spend a lot of time here but never during these party's, cause most of the time Rafe was the host and well - let's just say you tried to avoid any chance of being in a room with him together.

Because besides the hatred for their sister's trying to live the pogue life, Topper and Rafe had one thing more in common. They fell for the sister of their best friend. The only problem was, that Rafe never acted on his feeling. While Topper may be a complete idiot, he at least showed Sarah some kind of feelings, trying to wrap her around his fingers. But for Rafe? Bickering and hating was his way.

But Rafe apparently had a new way of drawing you into his space.

"Hey, did you see Topper?" You asked a guy which's name you could never remember no matter how often your brother tried to tell you. You just knew he often hang with them together. "No, sorry. Ask Rafe, he was with him a while ago." You instantly rolled your eyes but smiled at him and nodded in a way that was supposed to tell him 'thank you'.

You made your way further through the people until you reached the living room where you saw Rafe sitting on the couch, talking to two girls on either side of him.

Not bothering that you may interrupted something, you walked up behind him, not even caring enough to wait until he might realize you were standing behind him. "Have you seen my brother? He told me to come pick him up."

You looked down at his head which bend until it laid against the backrest, his pretty blue eyes meeting yours. Pretty ? No, you meant blue. Just blue.

"Oh If it isn't the princess of the Pogues, gracing us with her presence this night.", his voice dripped with sarcasm. "And to what do we owe this unexpected visit?" You rolled your eyes at his irritating words and crossed your arms in front of your chest. "Did you see Topper, Rafe?", you repeated.

His smile widened before he sat upright again, took a beer that was probably his from the desk, turned around and locked eyes with you again, walking around the couch towards you.

"Someone's in a grumpy mood today." he remarked, taking a sip of his beer. "Rafe If you don't-" "No need to be so uptight princess. The party just stared." You scoffed. "Well, apparently not If my brother's texting me to come pick his drunk ass up."

"Give him some time, he's trying to heal from a heartbreak. I mean I told him my sister is never hanging around for long but- well you know him. Had to try for himself."

You were slowly getting tired of the conversation and Rafe seemed to notice. "And as for where your brother is; I saw him with Kelce in the kitchen a few minutes ago. Just before you arrived, I think."

Without giving him a second more of your time, you turned around, walking towards the kitchen. Why didn't he just tell you 'Hey, Topper is in the kitchen.' ? Why does he always have to bicker with you and beat around the bush. Ugh.

Sarah always said he liked you but before Rafe Cameron actually had serious feelings for you or even anyone, hell would freeze over.

You walked into the kitchen of the Cameron's, immediately spotting your brother and Kelce, laughing loudly between some shots they were taking.

"Wow. You're really setting the bar lower and lower." You scoffed, making their heads turn towards you. "Y/n? What are you doing here? Aren't you with your little friends?" "Oh, hey pipsqueak." Kelce chuckled from behind Topper, waving at you with a drunken grin.

"Come on Topper, I don't have all night." I sighed, already about to leave the kitchen when he looked at me as If I had torn apart his favorite teddy bear apart that he hid under his bed whenever someone came over. "What the hell are you talking about?" "What the hell do you mean what the hell I'm talking about? You texted me to come pick you up because you're too drunk."

Just as he was about to answer, Rafe entered the kitchen and stood beside you. "Topper, why don't you listen to your sister and go with her, you've had enough for tonight."

Feeling betrayed, Topper was too stunned to speak, looking at Kelce for some backup. "Hey man don't get me into this." he replied to his look, throwing up his hands and spilling some of the liquid that was inside his shot glass.

"I didn't text you!" he exclaimed, reached into his pocket and searching for his phone. "Shit.. can't find it." You rolled your eyes, your patience slowly but clearly wearing off. "Topper.." "I swear I didn't!", he swore while continuing to search the insides of his few pockets. "Damn no really, where is it?", he asked himself.

"Come on man." Kelce chuckled and threw an arm around his friend, slowly guiding him outside the kitchen and towards the front door where you parked your car.

You stepped aside to let them pass, your gaze landing on Rafe who was already looking at you, licking his bottom lip before speaking. "Here." He reached into his pocket and handed you Topper's phone. "What? Why do you have my brother's phone ?", you asked him, as It didn't hit you yet what was going in.

"Thought he might need someone to pick him up before he would be a complete mess.", he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders and looking away for a short moment.

Your eyebrows shot up as the realization finally hit you."You texted me to come pick him up? Why would you do that?" He chuckled and looked down at you. " Like I said; I was worried about my friend." "Bullshit.", you called him out right away. "If you were worried about him, you would have told me where he was instead of beating around the bush."

"Just wanted some conversation." he replied simply, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes while doing so, trying not to let him get under your skin. It would only please him.

"Good night, Rafe." you smiled at him before turning around and pushing through sweaty crowd again, reaching your car where Kelce and Topper were already waiting for you.

You pressed the little button on your car key, allowing them to get in while you were still a few meters away. Kelce jumped into the back seat, and Topper settled next to you in the front.

You slid behind the wheel and closed your door, glancing over your shoulder at Topper’s friend. “Should I drive you home too?” you asked, reaching for your seatbelt and securing it right after.

“Sure thing, pipsqueak,” he grinned, his eyes heavy and his body slumping down onto the back seat. You rolled your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time in the last thirty minutes and started the engine, pulling away from the property.

A few minutes into the drive, you looked over to your right. “You’re lucky. Mom and Dad aren’t home tonight,” you smirked slowly, trying to lighten the mood since he was still your annoying brother. Annoying, but family.

A scoff escaped his lips as he stared out the window. “As if they’re ever home.” 

You sighed quietly, shrugging your shoulders. “Well, it’s still better than having to explain why you’re drunk and high.” 

“They wouldn’t understand anyway. They never do. All they do is scream and complain. They don’t care.” He turned his head toward you, studying your face. “But honestly, I don’t know which one of us they’re more disappointed in,” he chuckled.

“Yeah… Mom’s worried I’m drinking myself into a coma, while Dad is worried you’ll run off with Maybank or some other pogue.” The car fell silent for a moment before you both erupted into unexpected laughter. 

"Honestly, I don’t know which one is worse,” you giggled, gripping the wheel a little tighter as you turned onto your street. "Not sure who's setting the bar lower now, huh?" Topper smirked.

“I guess we should take him with us tonight before his parents have a heart attack,” you suggested, nodding toward Kelce, who was snoring in the back seat.

“Yeah…” he glanced at his friend and then back at you. “Thank you for picking me up, even though I didn’t text you. It’s good to know I can still count on you.” He smiled softly at you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"No problem, Topper." you smiled back at him before turning off your car and finally parked in your garage. "Let‘s get him inside.", you grinned, eager to get out like Topper, when your phone suddenly vibrated in your purse.

Hm, probably the pogues asking If everything‘s alright after you left so quick with only telling them it‘s an 'family emergency'.

You opened your little white purse Sarah had given you on your last birthday and rummaged through it, fishing out your phone. You had a few messages from JJ and Sarah, asking you when - wait.

What was that? A message by an unknown number.

unknown number

i took the liberty of grabbing your number while I had the chance to.

was nice seeing you tonight, hot and bothered like always..

sweets dreams, angel.

xx rafe

That son of a - wait, why were you smiling together with your heart beating faster ?

masterlist | taglist | navigation | valentines day special

tags: @supernaturaldawning @cardibre91 @aegonsslxt @juliet-017

xoxo sarah <3

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (7)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy Bucky, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, violence, Walker hate, fluff, mentions of being cruel to animals (no description), idiots in love

How to cure a grump (6)

How to cure a grump masterlist

Walking next to Bucky, you try not to show your irritation. He insisted on driving to town to go figure skating with you. You don’t know why yet.

“That’s a nice little town,” he says while looking around the area. “So, this Walker guy was your fiancé?”

“Can you just not?” You huff. The first moment he gets you alone, Bucky must hit you where it still hurts. “I get it. You had to play nice guy all day, and now you want to do what. Tell me Walker could do better than me?”

“What?”

“I already know that, okay,” you sniff. “He knows it too. No wonder he left me for my former best friend. There’s no need to make me feel even worse. I lost my fiancé, my best friend, and my business not so long ago. Now I lost my job and had no other choice than to admit I didn’t make it in the big bad town.”

“Whoa, doll!” Bucky shows his palms and shakes his head. “I didn’t speak about the asshole to tell you he could do better. I wanted to tell you that you can do so much better. He’s a piece of shit, and his face is ugly.”

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore. He’s in the past.” You wipe your eyes with your gloved hand. “Whatever you want to do tonight, you’re free to do it. I can just tell my mom we got into a fight or something.”

“Hey,” Bucky huffs. “Your mom loves me. And who’s going to hate on Walker if I’m not around?” Bucky grins because he made you laugh. “You know, according to rumors, a new guy in town spread, he’s got a tiny dick too.”

“Let me guess.” You furrow your brows. “It was a guy dressed in all black and with a cocky attitude. You know, the kind of man having it all. Minus manners.”

“Right when I thought we were getting along better,” Bucky laughs before he suddenly wraps one arm around your shoulders. “Play along.” He kisses your cheek and murmurs your ex-fiancé’s name.

“This must be fate,” John says while watching Bucky kiss your cheek. He squares his jaw as you instinctively lean into Bucky’s embrace. “How are the odds?”

“Not very high. Only if you are stalking your ex-fiancee and her new boyfriend,” Bucky laughs, but his voice sounds not amused at all. “If you’d excuse us now, we have better people to meet.”

“Do you think you’re better than me?” Walker accuses. He steps closer to you and Bucky, sizing your former boss up. “Your polished shoes and neatly styled hair don’t make you the better man, buddy.”

Bucky’s features darken before he says, “I’m not your buddy. You are the one not getting the hint. Y/N and I wanted to have a moment alone as a pair. But no. You had to come over and act as if you were not the man cheating on her with her best friend. You’re not even close to being a man.”

“Bucky, don’t,” you whisper. “He’s not worth it. Let’s just go and continue our conversation from earlier. I meant it.”

It’s no use. Bucky is unstoppable if someone pisses him off.

“Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?” He laughs in Walker’s face. “A little boy who threw away the best thing ever happening to him. A beautiful, smart, sweet, and damn sexy woman.”

“Only because she lets you fuck her doesn’t mean you’re better than me!” Walker won’t give in. Not when people stop skating to watch your way, nor when his girlfriend tries to stop him.

“That’s exactly what it means,” you finally found your voice. “He’s a better man in any way. He loves me better. He’s doing business better. He’s fucking me better. And his dick is out of this world.”

“You vicious bitch!” Walker steps toward you and Bucky, eyes trained on Bucky’s arm around your shoulders. He can’t take another scratch to his already bruised ego.

“Says the man with a tiny dick.” You wiggle your pinkie in front of Walker’s face. “I can’t believe I let you poke me with that thing.”

Walker huffs and puffs. He’s about to slap your face, but Bucky is quick to step in front of you. Your former boss takes the slap like a champ. He laughs before slamming his right fist into Walker’s face.

Your ex-fiancé stumbles backward. He staggers as he touches his bruised chin. “If you want to at least walk away with what’s left of your ego, leave and never dare to even look my girl’s way.” Bucky takes one step toward Walker.

“Bucky,” you whisper and tug at his arm. “Let’s just go. I think he got the message. Walker was never the smartest.”

“You’re lucky the lady doesn’t want me to beat you into a pulp,” Bucky growls before turning around to wrap his arm around your shoulders. He guides you away from Walker and into the next side street.

“What has gotten into you?” You mutter. “What if that idiot sues you, huh? Did you think about it before punching him for me?”

Bucky grins.

“What is so funny? You’ve got a fucking ton of money. If he hires a lawyer, he could ruin your reputation and—” You can’t end your speech. Bucky presses you against the brick wall behind you to kiss you again, almost desperate to taste you.

Your hands are in his hair, and his arms wrap around your waistline. He moans against you, close to losing himself in the kiss, as a loud meow stops you from doing something stupid.

“What was that?” You pant, your lips tingling from the kiss.

“I—I don’t know,” he says and steps away. Bucky runs his fingers through his strands, messing his neatly styled hair up. “I just…I…”

“I mean the noise, idiot,” you are quick to reply. There’s another meow, catching your attention.

“I heard that too,” Bucky licks his lips. Again, he doesn’t know what came over him. All the fighting over you with Walker turned him into a caveman.

“There!” You say as the meowing gets louder. "I think it's coming out of the dumpster!"

You try to open the dumpster, but Bucky is faster. He opens the dumpster and looks inside. ���What the—” He curses as he fishes something out of it. “What kind of person throws a kitten into a dumpster?”

“Oh my…” You coo, seeing the tiny white kitten in Bucky’s hands. “Give the little one to me.”

“No.” Bucky opens his coat to press the kitten to his warm chest. “Who did this to you?” He looks at the tiny creature looking up at him and smiles. “You’re safe now. No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

Watching Bucky talk to the cat, you wonder again. How can he be the same man firing you not days ago?

Tags in reblog.

[skipblebee]

It's another sunny day at Cang Qiong mountain sect. Shang Qinghua has just delivered a bunch of writing materials to Qing Jing as requested by Peak Lord Shen. On his way back one of the disciples stops him and he recognises her to be Ning Yingying, one of the peak lord's favoured disciples. "Shishu," she smiles at him "Shizun is playing songs for us on his guqin! Would you like to stay and listen?"

Shang Qinghua weighs his options and figures he might as well rest his legs, he's got a lot to do once he's back at An Ding Peak and hey!! He might as well get a treat for his delivery!! It was literally a last minute thing that wasn't even FILED for properly but whatever, he thinks, it's not everyday someone would get an invitation to listen to Shen Qingqiu playing his guqin! And from one of his favourite disciples? Oh he's in luck, this is like getting front row tickets to your favourite band!!

So Shang Qinghua makes his way towards a garden close to the disciples' music room, where a bunch of eager students listen to their shizun's wonderful playing. He really is as talented as they say,, nimble fingers gently plucking at each string. You can feel the love and emotion he has for each song pour into how he plays it.

Shang Qinghua leans against a tree as Ning Yingying makes her way to sit next to Luo Binghe, right in front of the crowd, and he can't help but smile at the sight of them. Shen Qingqiu plays a melody that the other peak lord had heard once or twice. Some song about falling in love in spring.

His head sways to the relaxing tune, and he closes his eyes. The cool breeze causes the tree branches to sway, the sound only adding to the charm of the evening.

The song eventually reaches a crescendo. Shang Qinghua, Peak Lord of An Ding, for a moment forgets about his harsh sect sibling and internally praises his skills! For someone as mean and snarky as him, he can play as gentle as the spring breeze itself!

It is when the crescendo of the song is reached that Shang Qinghua's life changes forever. It was just a small detail, and none of the students noticed of course, because none of them were from the 21st century.

But just as the song reached an emotional height, there it was, absolutely unmistakable, a riff he would recognise anywhere, even if years into his new life.

The unmistakable riff of Buddy Holly by Weezer.

His eyes fly open and he nearly stumbles off the tree he was leaning against and onto the ground below.

WEEZER???? Buddy HOLLY???? He was almost certain he made it up, his mind was certainly playing tricks on him!! An auditory hallucinations of sorts maybe!

He looked up at the other peak lord's face, as tranquil as a gentle stream itself! He had blended it into the song so well that it almost sounded like it was a part of the original!!

"P-Pardon me!" He whispers to no one in particular "I should be getting back to my peak now! It's getting pretty late! Thanking the esteemed peak lord for helping me listen to his lovely playing! If he even is a peak lord,,,"

"Shizun!" He hears the disciples pour out their praise once he's done with the song "Shizun's embellishments to the song made it even better than it usually sounds!" The echoes of flattery follow his ears until he's finally out of sight.

He scurries out of there, no one really noticing his absence, and damn near trips and rolls down the entire length of the mountain with all the adrenaline coursing through him. 'Oh my gosh another transmigrator??' his inner monolgue screams 'are we sure I didn't make that up??? System oh my lord ARE YOU THERE??? SYSTEM ??? AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO TELL ME IF THERE'S ANOTHER TRANSMIGRATOR HERE?? I THOUGHT I HAD AUTHOR'S PRIVILEGE????? Oh my, maybe that's why people say he's been acting different lately,,, I really have to see for myself sometime. I haven't really interacted with him since the qi deviation..."

Needless to say, the other disciples at Qing Jing weren't phased by the An Ding peak lord mumbling to himself as he scurried down the path, it was a usual occurence anyway. Shang Qinghua on the other hand had a lot to think of once he returned to his peak,,,, this would certainly be,, very interesting,,,,

[t1ts-4-donaldson]

Mutual masterbation with Stanford Art

It’s a scorching Saturday afternoon when you find yourself laid half naked in Art's bed, the AC unit in your dorm had broke Thursday morning and you’d been doing what you could to stave off the heat, spending most of your day in the library or cafeteria between classes but you always had to go back to your god forsaken room at the end of the day.

Art had noticed your condition the past few days sweating through lounge clothes that fit a bit to tight for comfort short enough to show a little more skin, he understood your discomfort but fuck you looked so good each forced to excuse himself after each encounter around hard as a rock. It was confusing to you not noticing how hard he was or his obvious infatuation towards you but you paid no mind.

Art been in love with you for ages pining pathetically for years. Patrick mocked him comparing him to a dog utterly devoted yet all of his attempts were in vain, someone else always caught your eye or you’d write off any of his compliments as friendly banter. He was on the verge of giving up but the summer heat finally gave way to the possibility of anything happening between you two.

you hit your boiling point unable to handle the exasperating heat

so now you're here at his front door pleading for some relief.

“Art it’s too hot I need air please" you stammer the words completely jumbled together, he’s taken aback a bit but steps aside letting you in

 “can I strip please I’m begging you" clammy hands tugging at the hem of your shirt

“of course yeah.” Art acquiesces voice cracking as he turns away respecting your privacy utterly shocked, his best friend here almost nude. You strip grateful in too much distress to notice his unease.

“lay in the bed” he offers still staring at the wall, you squint the blatant shyness but don’t care stumbling forward falling back exhaling deeply the breeze from the air-con finally hitting your body the cold calming you down

"Art lie down" you hum patting the space next to you, the boy shuffles over landing next to your body making sure there’s miles of space between you both

You frown shoving your shoulder against his, gripping his arm and pulling him closer "why are you freaking out you've seen me in a bikini before" you ask puzzled.

"this is different" he shrugs "underwear" he gulps, he hates himself for acting this way clamming up like a child it’s pitiful.

"Art it's just me, your best friend" you grin cupping his face tilting his head meeting his worried gaze.

Best friend he winces but wills that strain away shutting his eyes giving in tugging his shirt off as well. “I guess I need fresh air too” he sighs settling against his pillow not before peeking at your chest, nipples pebbling through your lace bra. He averts his gaze quickly when you pinch his arm coughing awkwardly knowing he’d been caught.

“Artie.. something you like?” You joke scooting a bit closer to him

“you wish” he sneers but shifts uncomfortably tugging his shorts trying to tamper down his growing boner, you follow his movements, realizing of what’s happening hitting you. 

“want me to help?” you ask.

“Shut up” he whines embarrassed “you’re fucking with me” he rolls his eyes with disdain 

you try to sound sincere “I will..” you nod, hand slowly shifting over his stomach towards his crotch “only if you want” you stammer sitting up on one elbow.

 “yes, yeah go for it” he chokes out eagerly in disbelief

You settle back down palming his hard on, “fuck” he throws his head back you smirk ego slightly inflated, hand slowly tugs the waistband of his boxers down mouth salivating at the sight erect tip flushed pink leaking, it makes you feel sorry for him. “So needy” you pout running your fingers up and down his member squeezing his balls lightly

“Tease” he chokes out gripping the sheets firmly, you give in feeling bad once his chin starts to wobble, you spit in your palm looking into his eyes as you do so his reaction priceless, mouth slack eyes blinking languidly

you tug his spit slathered dick slowly up and down, rolling his balls between your hand roaming up again running your thumb over his tip smearing pre cum over it, holding back a giggle when a whimper escapes his lips twisting your wrist with each pump.

“Fuck I’m close” sweat beading on his forehead enough of an indication, you lean forward and suck his neck nipping a bit before rising your mouth barely touching his “cum for me.” 

He shudders beneath you panting softly one hand gripping your thigh with a vice surely leaving red indents on your flesh. 

You attempt make his high last as longer milking him dry until he grabs your wrist, “too much” he heaves chest flushed red just like his cheeks.“Didn’t know you’d be that good” he laughs. 

“Doubting my skills? that hurts” you mock lifting your hand observing the thin creamy substance on your skin bringing your fingers to your lips sucking them out of curiosity. Art gulps eyes fixated dick beginning to harden again.

You sigh in contentment, leaning back against the headboard staring up at the ceiling “hope that was nice” you smile knowing it was. 

You stiffen as Art unexpectedly grips your waist. “Can I do you” he pleads meekly.

“no need to return the favor” you laugh ruffling his curls but he shakes his head desperately. “Please.. let me make you feel good” his body vibrates “been wanting to for a while-” he admits eyes watery “please-” 

“alright..” you whisper caressing his cheek wondering where his eagerness is coming from.

what really takes you back is him kissing you, immediately latching his mouth on yours without warning biting at your bottom lip, demanding to open up. You cave tongues lashing together as spit dribbles down your chin. His hand snakes down stopping right over your mound running his fingers up and down your slit over your underwear the cotton rubbing against your clit just right

 you gasp mouth dropping at the sensation he smirks fingers slipping into pussy gathering juices from your hole smothering it over your clit tracing he circles around it

“shit” you groan feeling his fingers slip inside you lost in your own pleasure nails digging into his arm body rolling in time with his hand. 

An idea pops up, finish at the same time

 you sneak a hand between his boxers knowing you can pull another orgasm out of him, Art hisses at contact involuntarily slowing his ministrations cursing trying to concentrate on his movements, “together come on” you urge pecking his lips gently

He nods both of your bodies trembling in tandem, exchanging moans between open mouths, gripping skin trying to find some semblance of control.

“Art I’m close” you squeal eyes shut tight chest rising and falling rapidly 

“come on fucking cum” he grunts sinking his teeth into your shoulder your legs clench together as pleasure rips through you like lightning, a sudden gushing sensation releases between your thighs you gape at his soaked palm 

“I didn’t know I could do that” you pant trying to catch your breath

“doubting my skills?” He whispers pecking a sloppy kiss on your cheek

[clarkeyhill]

Eyes only for, you.| George Clarke

Fluff

The air was electric with the usual buzz of our friendship group—laughter, the clinking of glasses, and music that pulsed through the bar. But there she was again.

Sophie.

She had always been part of the group, a friend of a friend, and up until recently, she’d been just another familiar face. But now, something had shifted.

It started subtly. The way she dressed differently when George was around—her hair styled in a way I’d never seen before, her makeup more striking. At first, I told myself I was imagining it. But then came the way she spoke to him, leaning in just a little too much, her laughter a little too eager.

George, to his credit, never played into it. He was his usual charming, carefree self, friendly to everyone but never crossing a line. And yet, a feeling settled in my stomach like a weight—what if he just acts disinterested because I’m here?

Weeks passed, and her energy towards him flickered like a faulty lightbulb—sometimes distant, sometimes entirely too present. And then, on a night out, she made her move.

It started with playful touches, brushing her hand against his arm. Then, she danced erratically, laughing loudly, making sure he noticed. George, drunk and carried by the group’s energy, laughed along. Arthur Hill and Chris encouraged it, making it feel like some big, harmless joke.

I stood there, watching. My drink in my hand, my heart sinking.

George wasn’t doing anything outright wrong, but he wasn’t exactly shutting it down either. I tried to push the feeling aside, tell myself I was overreacting. But as the night wore on, it became harder to ignore.

The pit in my stomach grew heavier. I wasn’t my usual self, my mood shifting from lighthearted to withdrawn. I wasn’t laughing anymore, wasn’t engaging.

George noticed.

Pulling me aside, his brow furrowed, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

I hesitated, but then, what was the point in holding it in?

“It’s her,” I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended. “She acts differently around you. Like she’s trying to get your attention. And tonight, she—” I exhaled sharply. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t sit right with me.”

George looked at me, genuinely taken aback. “Wait… you really feel this way?”

I nodded.

His expression softened, and without hesitation, he said, “Why would I want to pay attention to anyone else when I have you right in front of me?”

The words settled in my chest, warm and certain.

I searched his face for any trace of doubt, any hint of guilt. But there was none—just sincerity.

Maybe I had let insecurity creep in where it didn’t belong. Maybe I had let the what-ifs cloud what was right in front of me.

George pulled me close, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You don’t have to worry about anyone else. It’s always been you.”

And just like that, the pit in my stomach began to fade.

-

🫶🏻

Sorry for not posting! I have 0 ideas🙄

[zumek0]

college bf! headcanons; kozume, k.

↪︎ headcanons, gn reader, fluff, a little angst but very mild, mentions of an unspecified argument but it gets resolved, allusions to an anxiety attack, mentions of marriage.

↝ summary: headcanons about your and kenma’s relationship.

College bf! Kenma who can take all his classes remotely but still takes two in-person electives so that you both can walk together to and from campus.

College bf! Kenma who isn’t one to wake up early (the earliest he can wake up is 10 a.m.) but makes an effort to do so when he knows you have an important exam so that he can have breakfast with you and wish you good luck.

College bf! Kenma who doesn’t listen to music that often (maybe sometimes has a video game's OST playing as background noise while finishing assignments) but still listens to every single song you recommend to him.

He always tells you his thoughts on each song (even if he doesn’t particularly like it).

College bf! Kenma, whose anxiety prevents him from openly showing you affection in public, but makes up for it by clinging to you constantly while in private.

College bf! Kenma who, after spending the night, makes sure to leave at least one hoodie at your apartment.

He insists that it’s so that he has clean clothes to wear if he needs them but then gets pouty whenever you wear one of yours instead of his.

College bf! Kenma who loves having you sit on his lap or between his legs while he games.

Usually, he rests his head either on your shoulder or atop your head.

Whenever he gets bored or his wrist starts bothering him (you cannot tell me he wouldn't have carpal tunnel syndrome, lol), he leans back and wraps his arms around you, letting you take control for a while.

College bf! Kenmawho cries when you two have the first “big” argument of your relationship.

He prides himself on staying level-headed in stressful situations and looking for solutions instead of panicking and falling into despair.

So then, why does he feel like this? Why does he feel so angry? Why does his skin feel uncomfortable? Why is his mind making up scenarios where you break up with him? Why does he feel like there’s a black hole where his stomach should be? Why does his chest feel like he’s on the verge of a heart attack? Why does he feel so guilty?

The last two hours repeat themselves over and over in his mind. Why did he say all those things? Why did he act that way towards you? Why did he hurt you like that? Why does he keep crying?

Eventually, you both calm down enough to talk and resolve the issue.

He decides that he never wants to go through that experience again.

Especially not if you felt even half as bad as he felt.

College bf! Kenma whose mom asks about you every time he calls her son.

If you happen to be around, she’ll always ask to talk to you for a bit (more like an hour and a half).

He's pretty sure she only calls him as an excuse to talk to you.

Eventually, he sends her your phone number and feels slightly offended that she doesn’t call nearly as often as she used to.

College bf! Kenma who keeps trying to convince you to move in with him as it would be more cost effective and convenient. 

College bf! Kenma who, when you eventually agree to live together, lets you search for a new apartment as you insisted on starting fresh.

College bf! Kenma who, when you move into your new place, you drag out to Walmart at 8 p.m. to buy two cups, insisting that they’re a symbol of this new stage of your relationship.

College bf! Kenma who finds himself wanting to become Fiancè! Kenma more and more everyday.

finally posting this after having it sit in my drafts for half a year 🫠 i also finally learned how to make my html text work for the colored words lol. reblogs and likes are appreciated!

—han

[dilfologies]

older stepbro!suguru that's getting annoyed by his sister being jealous and touchy - just because he has a girlfriend

omg he’d get so sick of you coming into his room while he’s on the phone with his new girlfriend and sitting next to him on his bed, grabbing at his muscular bicep and pulling it close to your chest to rest your head on it. he’d try to pull it away, but you would not budge!

you could hear his girlfriend speaking through the phone, and you rolled your eyes at the mere sound of her voice.

“suguru, you okay?” she questioned. as she spoke, you trailed your hand down his abdomen until you reached his waistband and he grabbed your wrist harshly. he gave you an authoritative glare that you would’ve listened to if not for the fact that he’s been on the phone with her practically all day.

suguru sighed, letting go of your wrist. “yeah, sorry. my sister’s just bothering me,” he pressed the mute button and turned his head towards you. “the fuck is your problem?”

“you’ve been talking to her all day,” you whined, “i’m bored.”

suguru scoffed. “not my problem.”

other times, when his girlfriend is at the house and they’re watching a movie in the living room, you’d come down in your shorts that showed off a little too much of your ass, and sit right on top of his lap when his girlfriend would saunter off to the bathroom.

you’d whisper in his ear, “i miss you, sugu… y’sposed to hang out with your little sister.”

your breath fawned on his neck and suguru closed his eyes momentarily, a mix of annoyance and temptation visible on his features. his breath hitched when you wiggled your ass a little, putting pressure on his soft cock that you were just aching for.

“i can’t believe you’re acting like this,” he groaned. you only grinned in response before placing a hand on the side of his face, cupping his jaw and sliding the pad of your thumb across his bottom lip.

“is it so hard to believe that i want you for myself?”

suguru should’ve stopped you when you started leaning closer. he should’ve pushed you away and off of his lap. he shouldn’t have allowed you to swipe your tongue along his lips before placing your soft lips on his.

but he didn’t, and now here he was, caught in a whirlwind of emotions as he kissed you back with hesitation. what he was doing was wrong in so many ways. for christ’s sake, his girlfriend was just down the hall! she could walk in any time. but suguru was too swept up in the heat of the moment to form a coherent thought.

you, on the other hand, were hoping she walked in on this scene of you straddling your step brother’s—her boyfriend’s—lap, grinding down on his hard cock. maybe she would make a scene, declaring the relationship over and storming out the door. or perhaps she would make a silent exit and leave you to get fucked by suguru right where she had sat on the couch.

either way, you knew your little half-devised plan had worked when you and suguru were interrupted by a voice coming from the front of the hallway.

“what. the. fuck.”

[enhanextdoor]

𓂃۶ৎ 𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐈 𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐒? ━━━ 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾.

박종성 (p.js). ─────⠀ㅤ 1,895 (in total) ―୨୧⋆ ˚ 𝗳!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗑 𝗻𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗱𝗼𝗹!𝗷𝗮𝘆 𓈒 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. ⠀

부인 성명 (disclaimer) : read at your own risk. mentions of illness (your mother is sick). there is going to be fluff and angst themes. NOT PROOFREAD

taglist: @choisanswife. @leehsngs.

to be honest you didn’t want to get married, on top of that you had to marry park jongseong. it was ideal obviously since neither of you were in love with each other, but your mother was dying and wanted to see her daughter getting married. he had his reasons for the wedding except he wouldn’t tell you what they were. you didn’t even care enough to know. you just had to be married to him for two years then you could file for that divorce like he had promised. you were two months into this sham of a marriage and your family was coming to visit in one week. since the wedding you two had barely spent any time in the same room. you hardly acted married, but when your mom called jay made sure he was always chiming in and he kept up with your life so his responses seemed fitting. 

tonight you decided you would make dinner for the both of you since you needed to go through what talking points you would be having with your parents. you were in the kitchen when jay stepped through the doorway. he had been hanging out with the guys again which was typical especially since it was the weekend. “how are they?” you questioned as you tried to focus on the cook book in front of you. “uh.. good. jake says hi and ni-ki says you haven’t played him back in darts?” he arched an eyebrow slightly as he walked further into the kitchen. “what are you doing?” it almost sounded like he was trying not to laugh and that pissed you off. “cooking, what does it look like?” you retorted and pulled your hair out of the way. “okay, yeah. i’ll get the take out menus.” he said as he walked towards the assigned junk drawer where you kept menus to your favorite local places. “excuse me? no. this is going to be the best damn meal you’ve had all year park jongseong.” you point to the door of the kitchen. “now get out of my kitchen.” he laughed on his way out of the kitchen with his hands partially up. “okay, okay, but if i get food poisoning.” 

despite the comments from jay you made the meal from the cookbook and it tasted so damn good. you had to get a little taste of course before serving it in case it was bad. you were proud of this meal, really proud actually. you walked the two plates to the table in the dining room, setting the plates down in your respective spots. “okay y/n, let’s show him.” you muttered to yourself before walking up the stairs to find jay plucking away at his guitar. you stopped to admire him for a moment since he hadn’t noticed you just yet. he really was talented even if you didn’t want to fully admit it. “hey.. dinner is ready.” you stated after clearing your throat to get his attention. he looked over with an amused smile, “are we sure it’s edible?” he joked a little and you narrowed your gaze. “swear to god i’m going to feed you dog food next time.” you grumbled before walking right back down the stairs. jay put his guitar up and followed behind you. 

you both sat in silence as he went to take the first bite and you watched in anticipation, wondering what he was going to say. he was chewing and he even closed his eyes while doing so. you had no clue if that meant he liked it or was trying to hide the grimace, you thought it tasted good. “this is…” he kept you hanging for a moment. “out with it park!” you said and he held his finger up to indicate he wasn’t ready to give his answer. “...really good.” he opened his eyes to look at you which only caused your own eyes to roll. “you are are such a dick.” he couldn’t help but laugh at your comment and you both kept on eating in silence just enjoying the cooking. 

“i guess we should talk about your family coming. how is your mom doing?” he questioned which filled the air with a little bit of an eerie feeling. you didn’t like talking about everything going on with her illness, but jay always made sure to check in. “the doctors say maybe another year, but even they aren’t sure.” a frown crossed your lips and you averted your gaze to the table. “you know if you ever need to talk about that, i’m right here.” his voice seemed to be laced with a empathic tone that made your heart feel so warm. “i know, thank you.” you felt bad enough considering that you convinced him to marry you using your mom’s condition. 

the next week came and your family was staying with the both of you so that whole sleeping in different rooms thing would have to wait until they were gone again. jay took some days off work the same way you did to spend time with your parents. your father and jay were out in the backyard and you were in the living room with your mother. you had brought her some extra pillows to help her get comfortable and sat down across from her. “y/n, i really love seeing you with jay. seeing the way he looks at you. i know you’ll be taken care of when i’m gone.” she bore a little bit of a sad smile and you returned it. if only she knew that this marriage wasn’t what she thought it was. jay didn’t love you and you didn’t love him, did you? no. you didn’t, at least that is what you had to tell yourself. 

after some time jay and your father came back into the house laughing about something and you glanced over, your own face reflecting the smile on his. he was always so sweet with you and your family. “jay, come sit with me for a moment.” your mother called out patting the spot next to her and he sauntered over, sitting beside her and taking her hand when she held it out for him. “i love how happy you make my daughter.” she commented and he gave her hand a little reassuring squeeze. “i love how happy she makes me.” he teased back and your mother looked so overjoyed. “ah well i’m glad to hear that, but you know i’m on a bit of a time crunch what are our thoughts on grandkids?” she looked so sly while saying that. “mom!” you called out and you felt your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. he busted out with a loud laugh and everyone else followed suit. “we haven’t really talked about that yet but i promise we will keep it in mind.” he finally answered after the laughter calmed down. 

that night after dinner your parents went to settle down in the guest room leaving you and jay to clean the kitchen. you were washing the dishes up and he was cleaning off the table when you finally decided to speak up. “jay.. i don’t know how i’ll ever make all of this up to you.” your words lingered followed by a minute of silence. for a second you weren’t sure if he even heard you, but he approached the sink and his eyes felt like they were burning into your skin so you turned to meet his gaze. “y/n, you know i never told you why i got into the marriage. i didn’t have to do it, but i said i had my reasons remember?” he was stood a little closer than you had expected him to be. “yeah i remember, never understood why you couldn’t just tell me.” you scoffed a little and set the sponge you were using down. “i married you because i had feelings for you. i knew you didn’t feel the same, but i figured that if we lived together and spent more time together maybe just maybe you would end up feeling the same way.” he confessed as his one hand rested on the counter top next to you. your eyes widened and you weren’t expecting a love confession. you weren’t even sure how you felt to be completely honest. 

“i um.. well i’m not really sure how to respond to that. you married me because you have feelings for me?” you sounded confused and honestly that is the reason people are suppose to get married, love. he told you what any girl would be dying to hear that he is genuinely in love with you and your heart was racing you knew that much yet you couldn’t say the words back. “i don’t understand.” you said quieter than you spoke before. “it’s okay, i don’t expect you to say it back or even feel the same. if we get to the two year mark and you still want the divorce then we get the divorce but if we get there and you think you love me too then why not try this for real? we are only two months in so that gives you twenty-two months to figure out what you are feeling.” he smiled and placed a small kiss on your cheek. “i’m going to head to bed, you take all the time you need.” he put his hand on your arm for just a second, admiring every feature of you before dropping his hand and walking himself up to the master bedroom. 

you stood there trying to process everything, every moment from the time you both got engaged to now. you were fake engaged for six months before this little marriage came along so it wasn’t like you didn’t know jay. you became closer friends in the time that you were living together and maybe you did catch yourself watching him a little longer, smiling at him, enjoying his presence instead of your alone time. were you in love with park jongseong? was this marriage that started as a lie going to turn into a real marriage? there were so many questions running through your mind. every sweet moment that you shared jay replayed in your mind, the times he held you through your tears after getting results from your moms tests, and even the little teasing arguments the two of you had. you were hopelessly in love with jay. shit, you are in love with him. 

you made your way upstairs and into the room that tonight you would be sharing with jay. he had already gotten himself ready for bed and his attention turned to you when you walked into the room. “jay, i think i love you too.” you were just standing in the doorway and he tilted his head just a little. “you think? i’ll take it.” he broke into a smile and you just walked over to him. “yeah i think, i want to keep trying this and like trying to be in a relationship for real.” he nodded as his hand moved to rest on your hip and you were closer than before. “i like the sound of that.” you two leaned in to kiss, but right as your lips were going to connect you heard your mothers voice. “what do you mean for real?”

c. enhanextdoor ; do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

a/n: i hope you all enjoy this fic and sorry it ended on a lil cliffhanger mwhehehe

[maplegyu]

Went into this with no expectations! I just saw the tropes and summary and was like ooohhh i love all of these! I ended up rly loving the story and enjoying my read!!!

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go.

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking.

Loved loved loved how this was written!!! I could really feel how reader was clinging onto the alcohol like a lifeline! The more it felt like Mingyu would be slipping through her fingers the harder she tried to be grounded by something else!

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.

I GET U READER I WOULD BE TOO He's such a gentleman and he's sooo in tune with her feelings WHO WOULDNT FALL IN LOVE W KIM MINGYU

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.

GOD I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW MUCH THIS HURTS its like ur breaking ur own heart bc the feeling is like!! WHAT RIGHT DO I HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY???!! i get u reader i rly get uuuu BUT UR FEELINGS ARE REAL AND VALID 😭 the hoping and yearning wow wow wow

I loved the imagery of the writing so much!!! Especially the scene outside the restaurant!!! Felt so immersed in the story and in very few scenes was already familiar with how close reader and Mingyu are and their feelings for each other.

BUT THE MORNING AFTER SCENE OH MY GOD???!?! CHEEKY MINGYU AAAAHHHHHHHHH

ON GOD!!! I AM NOT OVER THE IMAGE OF JUST WOKEN UP MINGYU, RASPY VOICE, REACHING OUT FOR READER... SMIRKING!!!!!! who wouldnt want to wake up next to this man for the rest of their lives?!

"Oh, this is fun," - im sorry. I WANT HIM SO BAD. Mingyu being a tease and being cheeky... I LOVE THIS KIND OF MINGYU GENUINELY LIKE SOME OF MY FAVORITE MINGYU TO READ!!!!!

YES HE DID BECAUSE PERHAPS!!!! HE IS IN LOVE WITH U ALSO DEAR READER?! 💘

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

MY KNEES TURNED TO JELLY FR!!!! when he is chivalrous and a gentleman but also hot as fuck 🤩

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.

IMAGINING THIS MINGYU

AND I DONT BLAME READER FOR HAVING A HARD TIME W HER FEELINGS FOR HIM

THE WAY THIS WHOLE SCENE EXCITED ME BECAUSE IT CONFIRMS THAT MINGYU DOES ACTUALLY FEEL FEELINGS FOR READER TOO!!!! ITS NOT ONE-SIDED AAAAHHHHH ✨️

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

#MAPLEGYU SCREAMS!!!!!!!!! this is everything. officially down bad. on his way to becoming a certified loverboy!!!!!!

The whole back and forth about stealing and wearing Mingyu's clothes...... THE OBVIOUS FLIRTING PLEASE I WAS RLY EATING IT UP!!!! dont u two realize ur so into each other aaahhhhhh! And then tbh at this point i thought the story (or part 1) would be over but there was more!!!!

Mingyu was still there and reader was wearing his clothes. Excuse me a whole day of domesticity with your favorite person????

The way user taesjpq painted the picture of how their night was going sent me to space actually because ITS THE LITTLE THINGS!!!! together ordinary things feel extraordinary 😭 and im sure thats what reader felt w gyu!!!! And please they never stopped flirting! Him telling her he looks good in his clothes!!?? MY BABY GIRL LET YOUR MIND GO THERE!!!! THINK ABT GYU BEING PART OF UR DAILY LIFE!!!! BELIEVE HE LIKES U BACK COS HE DOES!!!!!

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

THIS MADE ME INSANE I LEGIT WASNT BREATHING

SO IMAGINE MY EXCITEMENT WHEN HE TRIED TO GO IN FOR A KISS!!!!!!! The build-up??!?! The uncertaintainty but also wanting it so bad??!?! CROSS IT CROSS THE LINE!!!! God im rooting for them i am suchhhh a sucker for bff's to lovers!!!!!!!

Thank you for writing this i really reaaally enjoyed it!!! I cant wait for the next part!!!! 💖

Jealousy part. I

genre — suggestive fluff, best friends to lovers, smut (maybe in part II) ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ pairing — female!reader x best friend!Mingyu summary — You, Hoshi, Wonwoo, and Mingyu—inseparable. Their apartment feels like your second home. But one of them makes your heart race in ways you wish it wouldn’t. He treats you like you’re special—attentive, caring, almost like a boyfriend. But he’s not your boyfriend. He’s your best friend. He treats you this way—this is just how Mingyu is, right? word count — 4,3k (part l)

Warnings and notes under the line.

WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, jealousy/insecurity, unrequited/complicated feelings, emotional distress, avoidance/coping mechanisms, mild possessiveness (towards him), possible hangover, waking up next to someone, suggestive elements/mild sexual tension, light kiss [let me know if I forgot something]

notes: san (ateez) cameo (you will better understand in part II) Hoshi, Wonwoo cameo. This is my first published ff ever, I hope you like it. I‘m actually very nervous about it, so feel free to give your opinion. I just wrote this, when I felt down bad for Mingyu again (he‘s so boyfriend istg). The question is, when i am not exactly down bad for Mingyu? He‘s the standard.

"Any plans for the weekend?"  

San held the office door open for you, his gentle smile as familiar as ever.  

You sighed quietly, relieved that the exhausting workweek was finally over. It had been chaos—half the staff out sick, leaving you drowning in double the workload.  

San had been your lifesaver, stepping in every time you thought you might break under the pressure.  

"Actually, I'm meeting my friends at a restaurant," you replied, noticing the faint flicker of something wistful in his eyes.  

"Why am I not surprised?" he teased, his grin widening as you stepped through the door.  

San had a way of always asking about your plans, like he was hoping, just once, your answer might include him. But it never did. Just: „My friends, my friends, my friends.“ 

It wasn’t a lie, though. You practically lived at their apartment. Gaming nights with Wonwoo, gym sessions with Mingyu, and endless meals with Hoshi—that was your rhythm, your second home.  

"Thanks for the coffee, San. Next time, it’s on me," you said, flashing him a grateful smile.  

"Anytime," he replied, his gaze lingering for just a moment longer before you parted ways.

 

You arrived flustered, breathless from rushing. Of course, they were already here. 

As you pushed open the door, the warm buzz of conversation and clinking plates enveloped you.  

Your eyes scanned the restaurant, locking on them almost immediately: your boys—and a girl. A girl? 

She was sitting beside Mingyu, close enough that their arms nearly brushed. Her laugh carried across the table, light and unrestrained, and something about it made your stomach twist. Who was she?  

"Finally!" Hoshi greeted you as you approached, his voice brimming with playful exasperation. "We thought you’d ditched us."  

You forced a smile, settling into the usual chaos of their teasing welcome. 

"This is Hana," Wonwoo explained casually when he caught the question in your eyes.  

"And? don’t you think she looks just like me?" Hoshi added, grinning as he gestured dramatically toward her.  

You studied her more closely, and the resemblance hit you. It was uncanny—her smile, her energy. She could’ve been his twin. 

"I’ve been crashing at their place for a few days," Hana said, extending her hand toward you. "Hoshi insisted."  

Your polite smile barely reached your eyes. Why hadn’t anyone told you?  

"Nice to meet you," you said, shaking her hand and glancing around. There wasn’t an empty chair for you.  

Mingyu noticed immediately. Without hesitation, he stood, grabbing one from a nearby table and setting it beside him.  

"Thanks, Gyu," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended.  

He nodded and gave you a gentle smile. 

Oh, how you’d missed him. His warmth, his silly jokes—the way his laughter could dissolve the stress of your week. You’d been looking forward to this, to catching up with him. But now, it seemed difficult.  

As the group settled into conversation, you tried to focus, tried to join in. But your attention kept drifting—to Hana, to how close she sat to Mingyu, to the way she leaned into him when she laughed. Her fingers grazed his arm casually, like she belonged there.  

"So, Hana, how do you like the city so far?" Wonwoo asked, drawing her attention.  

"It’s great," she said brightly. "Hoshi’s been showing me around—it’s been so much fun."  

Her hand lingered on Mingyu’s shoulder as she spoke, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably.  

Just then, the waiter arrived, placing drinks on the table. Four sojus. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise—they’d ordered before you arrived. That wasn’t how things worked. You always waited. It was a small tradition, but it mattered. Or, at least, it used to.  

"One soju for me too, please," you said quickly, catching the waiter before he walked away.  

But the unease didn’t leave. Hana’s touchiness continued—her laugh too loud, her attention on Mingyu too focused. He didn’t seem to mind, even smiled at her a few times. Yet, every so often, his eyes flicked to you, as if checking for something. 

You didn’t know why, but every time Hana’s hand brushed against his arm, you reached for your bottle. Every time she giggled a little too sweetly, your glass met your lips. The warm burn sliding down your throat was easier to deal with than the twist in your chest. 

"You should see these two at the gym," Hoshi chimed in suddenly, pointing between you and Mingyu. "They’re like workout aliens or something." 

The group laughed, and you managed a small smile, but your heart wasn’t in it. 

Hana giggled, leaning closer to Mingyu. "Maybe you can show me some moves sometime," she said, her tone playful. 

Your fingers tightened around the glass. Without thinking, you poured yourself another shot—your third, or was it the fourth? You weren’t keeping track anymore.  

Mingyu let out a small chuckle, and that was it—you tipped your head back and downed the drink in one go. 

Your chest tightened. Mingyu was your closest friend. Your partner for everything. The one you laughed with, teased, leaned on. Seeing her in that space, acting like she belonged, made your skin crawl. You probably were just overreacting- and yet, you just kept drinking. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you lie, the words tumbling out too quickly, barely convincing even to yourself. 

You needed space—air that wasn’t thick with your confusion, your frustration. If you stayed another second, your face would betray you, exposing the childish jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.  

The cool evening air hit you like a lifeline as you stepped outside, goosebumps forming on your arms from the crisp breeze. 

You closed your eyes briefly, letting it kiss your flushed cheeks, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. The dull, relentless throb of longing refused to fade.  

“This isn’t the bathroom.”  

The familiar voice sent a jolt through you, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. You didn’t have to turn to know who it was.  

You glanced back anyway, already masking your shock with a strained smile. Of course, it’s him. It’s always him.  

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, forcing a lightness you didn’t feel. “This looks like a bathroom to me.”  

He chuckled, that low, warm laugh that always did things to your chest, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. And despite yourself, you smiled too, because how could you not? 

God, you were so hopelessly in love with him.  

Without a word, he steps closer, draping your jacket over your shoulders. “You’re probably freezing,” he says, his voice gentle, but with a tenderness that makes your stomach tighten.  

His hands brush lightly against your skin as he adjusts the jacket, and it sends a shiver through you—not from the cold, but from the barely-there touch. 

You look up, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes meet his. His gaze softens, a flicker of concern crossing his face.  

The silence that followed stretched taut between you, thick and heavy with unspoken words. Neither of you seemed willing to break it. The faint hum of traffic and the muffled buzz of laughter from the bar filled the empty space.  

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers toying with the hem of your dress. Don’t say it. Don’t bring her up. Just let it go. But the question clawed its way out of you anyway.  

“I didn’t know Hana was staying at your place,” you blurted, the words sharper than you intended, laced with something raw and exposed.  

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, his exasperation evident. “Yeah, I didn’t know either. Trust me.”  

You raise an eyebrow, still unsure. “Hoshi didn’t mention it?” 

“He forgot,” Mingyu mutters, shaking his head. What a Hoshi thing to happen, you thought.  

“I walked into my room, and she was already asleep in my bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake her, so I took the couch for the week.”  

Your stomach twisted, the weight of his explanation sitting heavy. Of course, he wouldn’t complain. He’s Mingyu—always generous, always selfless. Always giving more of himself than he should.  

“Oh,” you managed, your voice too light, too fake. “It’s just funny to think… if I showed up at your place, I’d find her instead of you.” You tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow, even to your ears.  

He shrugged, casual and unaffected. “It wasn’t a big deal for me. I worked overtime all week, so I wasn’t home much anyway.”  

Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. But to you? It was everything. Every single thing.  

You felt the sting of tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away quickly. Not here. Not now.  

The night had been shallow and hollow, a void you couldn’t seem to escape. All you’d wanted was a quiet evening with your friends, especially Mingyu. Just sitting beside him, leaning against his shoulder—feeling the solid warmth of him—would’ve been enough.  

But instead, you’d spent the evening watching Hana, her laughter, her touches, her presence invading spaces you’d always considered yours. Even if you don't have the right to do so. 

The ache in your chest sharpened, spreading through you like wildfire. You couldn’t stay here any longer.  

“I’m gonna head home,” you said, your voice flat, eyes fixed on the ground. “I think I need some rest after this week.”  

You felt his gaze land on you, heavy and searching, and for a moment, you wavered under its weight.  

“I’ll take you home,” he said softly, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.  

“No, it’s okay,” you replied quickly, trying to steady your tone. “I have my car.”  

“I know,” he says, stepping closer, his presence almost overwhelming. His eyes scan your face, tracing every inch of you, as if reading you in ways that make your heart race. “But you shouldn’t drive. You drank too much.” 

“I’m fine,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. “I’m not drunk.” 

 And then, he speaks again, voice softer, more tender. 

“Your cheeks,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing against your flushed skin. “They’re red. That happens when you drink too much.” 

You freeze, his touch lingering. Your heart pounds in your chest, and his proximity feels like a punch to your gut. He looks even more handsome than usual—his messy hair falling over his forehead, the soft fabric of his shirt still loose and unbuttoned just enough to make your breath catch. The way he stands there, effortlessly composed, but so close that you can almost taste the air between you—his scent wrapping around you like a warm, familiar blanket. 

God, you feel weak in front of him. 

“I can’t let you drive like this,” he adds softly. 

You want to protest, but the words catch in your throat. He cares. He always does. 

“Unless…” he tilts his head slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ve got other plans?”  

A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed through your head as you reached for your phone, your limbs feeling heavy under the weight of sleep. 

The sunlight filtering through the curtains was way too bright, making you wince as you blindly swiped to answer the call without checking the caller ID. 

“Hello…?” Your voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion. 

“Mingyu, where are you?! I’ve been trying to reach both of you for hours!” 

Your brows furrowed, confusion washing over you like a cold wave. Mingyu? 

You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the name on the screen. Hoshi Hyung. 

Your headache made it hard to process, but one thing was clear—you would never save him like that. 

Why the hell was he even calling you about Mingyu? 

Just as the pieces of the puzzle refused to click into place, you felt it—a presence beside you. 

With a slow, sinking feeling, you turned your head to the right. 

And there he was. 

Mingyu. 

All 187 centimeters of him, sleeping peacefully under your blanket like he belonged there. His hair was tousled, his breathing deep and even, his broad chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. 

Your eyes widened, your grip on the phone tightening. You hung up immedietly.  

Fuck. 

Before you could spiral too much, Mingyu let out a deep sigh, his arm stretching out lazily—almost like he was reaching for you. His eyes, still hazy with sleep, fluttered open but instantly softening the moment they land on you,— The way you were staring at him, as if he'd just appeared out of nowhere —his lips curled into a knowing smirk. 

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with sleep. 

“It’s 2 p.m., Mingyu.” 

He blinked slowly before lazily glancing around the room. “Shit, really?” His voice was raspy, thick. He let out a slow breath before sinking deeper into the pillows. “I slept so fucking good.” A lazy smile tugged at his lips as he let his eyes fall shut again. 

You watched him. His dark hair was a complete mess, strands sticking out in every direction, and yet, somehow, it only made him look softer. His skin looked warm and tan against the white sheets. His lips—full, slightly swollen from sleep—parted just the tiniest bit, and for a moment, you had to fight the urge to reach out, to trace them with your fingertips, just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

You swallowed hard. "I... uh—what happened last night?" 

Mingyu let out a soft chuckle, rolling onto his side to face you properly. “You really don’t remember?” 

Your silence was answer enough. 

“Oh, this is fun,” he mused, resting his cheek against his palm. “You were very affectionate. Like, I knew you liked me, but I didn’t expect you to cling to me like that.” 

Your face burned instantly. “Shut up.” 

He grinned wider. “You wouldn’t let go. Kept saying I couldn’t leave, that I should sleep next to you.” His voice dropped into something teasing. “Should I start staying over more often?” 

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him. He laughed, catching it effortlessly before it could hit his face. 

“Ohhh, so violent first thing in the morning,” he teased. “Where’s all that love from last night, huh?” 

You wanted to escape the awkwardness, so you stepped away from the bed, but as you did, your gaze betrayed you—flicking toward Mingyu. His white shirt hung loosely on his frame, almost completely unbuttoned, exposing a hint of his chest and the silver chain resting just above it. The sight made your breath catch for a moment, your heart skipping. 

Mingyu caught your glance. His eyes met yours for a heartbeat, but then they dropped—slowly, unwillingly, lingering on your legs just a moment too long. 

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the fabric of your dress inching up, revealing more of your legs than you'd intended. The air between you both seemed to thicken, heavy with something unspoken. 

In an awkward flurry, Mingyu began buttoning his shirt, his movements too quick, too self-conscious, like he was suddenly aware of every inch of space between you. 

You cleared your throat, trying to fill the silence, and nervously stammered, “I—I’m making breakfast.” 

Mingyu immediately sat up, “I’ll do it.” 

You turned to glare at him, a bit sharper than you intended. “I can make it on my own.” 

“I know you can,” he said with that same, effortless ease, his tall, towering frame moving toward you without hesitation. “But let me.” His voice was softer this time, the teasing gone. 

His eyes flickered over you briefly—the exhaustion, the headache written all over your face, the way your clothes were still crumpled from last night. 

“You should take a shower,” he added, voice gentle. “It’ll help with the headache.” 

You blinked at him, and looked down on you after.  

“Yeah..probably.” 

You hesitated for a second before heading towards the bathroom, still feeling like you were stuck in some weird dream. 

The moment you stepped in front of the mirror, you almost flinch. 

Your makeup was smudged, your hair an absolute mess, strands sticking to your forehead. Your dress from last night was wrinkled and slightly loose on one side. 

You looked horrible. Greasy. Disgusting. 

Mingyu slept next to this? 

You suddenly wanted to cry. 

Taking a deep breath, you quickly peeled off your clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the weird feelings in your chest. 

By the time you were done, you felt human again. 

There was no way you were putting that dress back on, so you grabbed your bathrobe, tying it tightly around your waist before stepping out. 

Your hair was still damp, strands clinging to your skin as you walked barefoot toward the kitchen, following the smell of food. 

Mingyu stood at the stove, moving effortlessly like he belonged there, he changed his white shirt. His black t-shirt now clinging just enough to make you notice. The sleeves stretched over his biceps, broad and defined, flexing slightly with each movement.  

And then he turned around. 

For a moment, it was like time froze. 

Mingyu’s breath hitched the second his eyes landed on you. 

The damp strands of hair framing your face, the way your robe sat snugly around you, revealing the delicate curve of your collarbone—he was so unprepared for this. 

His fingers twitched around the wooden spoon, and for a split second, he forgot what he was even doing. His grip almost faltered. 

He was staring. 

Hard. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You good?” 

Mingyu swallowed, snapping out of it. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, I’m—uh, food’s almost done.” 

He forced a smile, turning back to the stove way too quickly—like he needed a second to compose himself. 

You didn’t question it, shrugging as you took a seat at the table. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, inhaled deeply, gripping the spoon like it was the only thing keeping him from completely losing his mind. 

Yeah. He was so screwed. 

“So.” Mingyu cleared his throat, a little too forcefully. “How’s your headache?” 

You barely looked up, scrolling through the endless messages from Hoshi and Wonwoo. “Hm? Oh-It still hurts. But I’m sure I’ll feel better after eating something."

A beat of silence. 

Too long. Too heavy. 

You, sitting there like that—bare-faced, hair still damp, wrapped up in your robe—he had seen you like this before. And yet, right now, it felt… different. His fingers flexed against the edge of the kitchen counter. 

He didn’t want to think about why. 

“How’s work been lately?” he asked, voice casual—too casual. “You looked exhausted yesterday. And, well… the number of drinks you had kind of spoke for itself.” 

You let out a dry laugh, stretching your legs beneath the table. “Yeah, work… Work has been insane. Feels like half the office is out sick, and I’m the lucky one picking up the slack.” 

Mingyu frowned as he turned off the stove, moving with practiced ease. “That’s bullshit.” A pause. “No wonder you were exhausted.” 

That wasn’t the reason you drank last night, but he didn’t need to know that.  

You shrugged, watching him. The way he knew where everything was. The way he moved through your kitchen like he belonged there. Because he did. 

Mingyu set a plate in front of you before settling into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork but didn’t eat right away, just watching you for a beat. 

“You really need a break,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Then, his eyes flickered to yours, and something shifted in his expression. A smirk tugged at his lips. “Or maybe just… new clothes.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

He gestured vaguely toward you. “I mean, I knew you had a couple of my things, but—” He gave you a pointed look. “At this point, half of your closet is mine. I could practically  move in here.” 

You almost choked on your food. 

That little shit. 

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “You know, I always wondered where my stuff kept disappearing to.” He tilted his head, pretending to think. “For a while, I actually believed I had a hole in my closet.” 

You swallowed your bite. “Weird. Sounds like a you problem.” 

He scoffed. “Oh, really?” 

You nodded, keeping your face blank. “Mhm. No clue what you’re talking about.” 

His gaze flickered over you, his smirk deepening. “So, you’re telling me my hoodies just magically disappeared? Along with my t-shirts? And my beanie? And—” 

“Okay, okay,” you cut in, groaning. “Maybe your clothes are just… way too comfortable. Not my fault they’re basically begging to be stolen.” 

“Begging,” he repeated, like he was tasting the word. 

“Yes.” You met his eyes, feigning innocence. “I don’t see the issue.” 

Mingyu let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.” 

You smirked, tilting your head. “And yet, you still let me steal your stuff.” 

He exhaled through his nose, picking at his food. “I don’t let you. You just take it.” 

“Semantics.”  

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was something in his expression—something warm, something familiar. 

For a moment, it almost felt normal again. Like the weird tension from before had settled into something softer. Something easier. 

But then his eyes lingered on you a second too long. 

And suddenly, it was back. 

That unspoken thing between you. 

Neither of you acknowledged it. 

You just kept eating. 

And Mingyu? 

Mingyu was so, so screwed. 

Your phone started ringing. Hoshi was calling. 

We were screwed. 

By the time evening settled in, you had changed into something comfortable—his clothes, to be exact. He was still here, lingering in your space, and for a few fleeting hours, everything felt right. As if this was how it was always meant to be. As if this was your everyday. But deep down, a small voice whispered, warning you not to get used to it. 

After dinner,  Mingyu is still here. 

You’re in the kitchen, washing dishes side by side like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushes against yours when he reaches for a plate, and it’s almost too quick to register. But you don’t pull away. Neither does he. 

He leans against the counter, arms crossed loosely, watching you as you load the dishes into the dishwasher. His voice breaks the silence, low and casual, but there’s an edge to it, something like hesitation. 

“Do you still have a headache?” 

Before you can speak, he’s close. His presence fills the space between you. His left hand gently presses against your forehead.. His right hand moves to your neck, fingers brushing lightly over your skin.  

You barely notice it at first, but when you shift slightly, you feel it—your back pressing against the counter. Mingyu is so close, standing in front of you, subtly caging you in You can barely breathe. You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that he’s so close, or the fact that you want him closer.  

Your voice falters when you answer. "I’m fine now. It’s... better." You watch as Mingyu’s face softens in an instant at your words. 

Neither of you moves, standing close, too close.  

Mingyu’s lips quirk into a grin, but there’s a hint of something more in his voice. “My clothes look good on you. I should let you steal them more often.” 

You laugh, but it’s breathless. You stretch up, reaching for his face, your fingers brushing his skin. You squint your eyes, making a playful face. “I’d do it anyway. Don’t need your permission.” 

Mingyu chuckles, but his gaze shifts, sharpening just enough for you to notice. He steps closer. The warmth radiating off his body, the faint brush of his leg against yours, the way his chest is so close that if you just leaned in the smallest bit, you'd be pressed against him. It’s intoxicating. You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing for a second until you force yourself to inhale, only to take in the faint scent of him—clean, familiar, utterly Mingyu. 

He watches you with an intensity that makes the room feel smaller, more intimate. His eyes flicker to your lips, and that’s when it happens—the hesitation. Heswallows hard, fighting the urge to close the distance entirely. He’s trying—really trying—to resist, to keep this from crossing a line neither of you can come back from. But it’s impossible when you’re looking at him like that, when your body is so close, when the scent of you wrapped in his clothes makes his head spin. 

And then, he inches closer, almost without thinking, and his lips brush against yours—just the lightest touch, so soft that it could almost be a breath. Your body tenses, and for a second, everything stills.  

But fuck, it’s enough to send heat coursing through his veins. 

His lips are soft, teasing, brushing lightly against yours. The kiss is slow, barely there, but enough to leave you gasping for more. 

You inhale sharply, your breath mixing with his. You don’t move away. If anything, you shift closer, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. 

His lips linger, hovering, teasing. Testing. 

His self-control is hanging by a thread. 

He tells himself to stop. You were loosing yourself in it. You- 

- Ding Dong 

The sound of the doorbell rings, slicing through the tension. You both freeze. The world shifts back into focus. The heat, the closeness, everything evaporates in an instant. 

You step back, your breath coming in uneven gasps. Mingyu looks away, running a hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. 

[gojomyshayla]

No warning!

Gojo x senior!reader pt.2

Trope : one bed trope, oblivious reader , lover boy gojo. Slight grumpy x sunshine (gojo is the sunshine here)

Starring : second year!gojo , senior!fem!reader highschool geto and shoko

A/n man i love writing about highschool gojo being lovesick 😭

Summary : Gojo Satoru might act cool and untouchable, but when it comes to you—his sweet, oblivious senpai—he's completely whipped. He melts at the smallest things you do, but you never notice. When a mission forces you both to stay in a small inn with only one bed, things get even harder for him.

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Gojo Satoru Has a Problem.

A very big problem.

And that problem is you.

From the moment he became a first-year at Jujutsu High, Gojo had been doomed. You were the kind of girl who made heads turn without trying, effortlessly charming with your kindness and intelligence. Strong, graceful, and so sweet—it made him feel like he was going insane.

The worst part? You were completely oblivious to the effect you had on him.

Every time you smiled at him, fixed his uniform, or called him "Satoru" in that soft voice, his heart short-circuited. But you never noticed. You just kept being your sweet self, completely unaware that the "strongest sorcerer" was actually the weakest when it came to you.

And now? He was stuck on a mission with you.

A solo mission with just the two of you.

Yeah. He was screwed.

---

The train ride to the mission site was peaceful—for you. For Gojo? Absolute torture.

You sat right beside from him, quietly reading a book while he pretended to nap, sneaking glances at you from behind his sunglasses. The way you absentmindedly chewed your lip in concentration, the way your fingers played with the edge of the page—it was unfair.

At one point, you sighed and stretched, your foot accidentally nudging his. “Ah, sorry, Satoru.”

He nearly died.

“N-no problem,” he muttered, turning his head toward the window to hide his red face.

You tilted your head. “Are you feeling okay?”

No, I am not okay, you’re too cute and it’s ruining my life.

“Pfft. Of course! I’m Gojo Satoru,” he said with a cocky grin, masking his internal crisis.

You just laughed. “If you say so.”

Gojo sighed. This was going to be a long trip.

"Satoru, why do you look so nervous? Are you scared that the mission won't go well?" You chuckled it's almost laughable how oblivious you could be .

"Nervous? Me? You wish.", he replied with a sumgness that somehow made your heart race faster..

Soon the two of you fell into complete silence. Not an awkward one rather a comfortable one .

---

The task itself wasn’t hard—just some low-level curses in a rural town. It should’ve been easy, a simple in-and-out job. But, of course, things never went as planned.

“We should stay the night,” you said, stretching your arms as you looked at the darkening sky. “It’s too late to head back now.”

Gojo groaned internally. Staying the night meant finding an inn. And finding an inn meant—

“We only have one room left,” the old lady at the front desk told you with an apologetic smile. “I hope that’s alright.”

Gojo nearly choked.

You, ever the rational one, just nodded. “That’s fine. Thank you.”

Fine?! FINE?!

He was about to share a room with you, and you thought it was fine?!

---

As soon as you both got to the room, you opened your bag and sighed. “Ah, I forgot my toothbrush.”

Gojo, who had been dramatically flopping onto the bed, sat up. “Want to share mine?” he teased.

You gave him a flat look. “That’s disgusting, Satoru.”

He grinned. “It’s romantic.”

You ignored him, instead pulling out a lollipop from your bag. “I guess I’ll just brush my teeth with this.”

Gojo watched in horror as you put the lollipop in your mouth. “That is not how dental hygiene works, senpai.”

You shrugged. “Sugar kills bacteria.”

Gojo sighed. He really was in love with a menace.

---

Gojo satoru.A man who is not only know to the scorcer world but also among the ladies.He away have women lingering around him is now nervous , the reason is you

As soon as you entered the room you saw something unexpected

The room was small, cozy, and had only one bed.

Gojo stared at it like it personally offended him. He could handle fighting Special Grade curses, but this? This was a battle he wasn’t prepared for.

You, on the other hand, were completely unbothered. You tossed your bag on the floor and turned to him. “I’ll take the floor,” you said, as if that was a normal thing to do.

Gojo frowned. “No way. I’ll take the floor.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Satoru, you’re taller than me. You’ll be uncomfortable.”

She’s worried about my comfort? His heart skipped a beat.

He quickly shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m used to suffering.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer. “Don’t be ridiculous. We can just share.”

Share?

Gojo.exe stopped working.

His brain short-circuited. Completely. Totally. Catastrophically.

He tried to act cool, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “O-oh. Yeah. I mean—if you insist.”

He was going to die tonight.

---

Soon they both settled down after their dinner that Gojo paid with his own black caed

Gojo barely slept. He stayed completely still, paralyzed, while you lay peacefully beside him, breathing softly.

Then, in the middle of the night—

You rolled over and cuddled into him.

His entire body went rigid.

Your arms tucked against his chest, your head resting near his shoulder. You looked so peaceful, your warm breath fanning against his neck.

Gojo was dying.

His heart was beating too fast, his mind screaming, but he didn’t dare move. If I move, she’ll wake up, and then I’ll never get to experience this again.

So, he just… lay there. Wide-eyed. Trying not to combust.

"She will kill me for sure" he said before wrapping his arms around him. He can't wait to share this with geto.

He admired her beautiful face , face illuminated by moonlight slipping through the slides of the window

---

The next morning, Geto and Shoko were waiting for them at Jujutsu High. The moment Gojo stepped into the classroom, looking dazed and sleep-deprived, Geto smirked.

“How was the mission?” he asked casually.

Gojo dropped into his chair and groaned. “The worst.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you two just exorcise some low-level curses?”

Gojo buried his face in his arms. “Yeah, but we had to share a bed.”

Silence.

Then—

Geto burst out laughing. “You shared a bed with her and you survived?"

Gojo turned Red "shut up curse eater"

Geto rolled his eyes and said "whatever lover boi"

Gojo was doomed

----

You had forgotten your notebook in the classroom.

It was early morning, and you didn’t expect anyone to be inside yet, but as you reached the door, you heard familiar voices.

Gojo. Geto. Shoko.

Curious, you paused outside the slightly open door.

“So, let me get this straight.” Geto’s voice was full of amusement. “You not only got to share a room with her but also slept in the same bed, and you’re still too much of a coward to confess?”

You blinked. Who were they talking about?

Gojo groaned dramatically. “You don’t get it, man. She’s not just any girl. She’s—” He hesitated. “She’s perfect.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

Shoko snorted. “You’re so down bad it’s embarrassing.”

“I am not down bad,” Gojo huffed.

“You let her cuddle you in her sleep and didn’t move a muscle because you didn’t want to wake her,” Geto deadpanned.

Gojo sputtered. “T-that doesn’t mean anything!”

Shoko laughed. “Oh, it so does.”

You covered your mouth, heart racing. They were talking about you.

Gojo Satoru—your annoying, arrogant, endlessly teasing junior—was completely and utterly in love with you.

And you had been completely oblivious.

Your face burned as you quietly stepped back. You needed to process this. Fast.

Because suddenly, you weren’t sure who was more doomed—Gojo or you.

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