#do u think they feel the world on their shoulders.

[nevernonline]

✧.* pancakes for dinner; svt smau

chapter 08; old wounds. (written)

✧.* synopsis: y/n while in her third year at greenwood international university finally gets an opportunity to move off campus into a new complex, she has to deal with the realization that her childhood rival is her new next door neighbor.

 paring: seungcheol x fem! reader. 

feat: non-idol! svt, nct mark&jaehyun, other passing idols ykyk.

genre/s: reader is super oblivious, fluffy, sexual themes. 

content: swearing, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

updates: weekly

tag list - open

word count: 5.5k

masterlist ▸ 07. shaken up not stirred ▸ 09. are we really doing this?

The cool night air nipped at Y/N's skin as she strolled briskly down the dimly lit street. It was far too quiet for comfort, but Y/N tried to shake the nerves prickling at the back of their neck. Her phone buzzed furiously in her hand as the group chat lit up like fireworks.

"y/n where’d u go??" It was Hoshi, always the anxious one. Y/N grinned to themselves, typing back a quick reply. "I thought you guys left?? omg i'm walking rn?? LMAO"

Not even a second later, another notification came through, this time from Yuqi: "we told you we’d be outside when you went pee??? wtf."

Y/N rolled her eyes, her thumbs flying across the screen. "LMAO im not alone, plus im fully sober rn so im okay!!"

A dramatic gasp emoji popped up from Yuqi, followed by: "i saw you take a shot? also not alone? 👀👀👀"

Y/N chuckled, thinking back to the single shot she’d taken hours ago at the party. One shot, one drink. That didn’t count, right? She glanced up briefly, spotting the tall, broad-shouldered figure of Mingyu walking beside her. He towered like a protective shadow, his face illuminated faintly by the pale moonlight.

"You're quiet," Y/N teased, nudging him. "Are you plotting something, or just sad your phone died?"

Mingyu groaned dramatically. "Sad. Definitely sad. I feel cut off from the world, Y/N."

Y/N snorted as she tapped out another message to the group chat. "okay one shot at 8pm and it’s now almost midnight, so pretty much. also im w/ mingyu and wonwoo if you guys were even remotely concerned about him. his phone died but he said he’s sad."

Yuqi’s response came almost immediately: "Mingyu is like an over 6 foot beef cake he’s okay??"

Y/N burst out laughing, Mingyu glancing down at her with a puzzled look.

"What?" he asked, leaning in to peek at the screen.

"Nothing," Y/N said quickly, shoving the phone back into their pocket. "Just our friends roasting you. Again."

By the time Y/N and Mingyu made it back to the house, the rest of the group had already gathered in Hoshi’s room, sprawled across the mismatched blankets and cushions. Hoshi looked up immediately, relief washing over his face.

"Finally," he said with a smirk. "We were about to send a search party."

Y/N rolled their eyes. "I had bodyguards, okay? Mingyu and Wonwoo had me covered."

Mingyu chimed in from the other side of the room. "Why Hoshi’s room, though? This place looks like a tornado hit it."

"He literally offered to help me clean it yesterday. Now he’s just being a dick." Hoshi fired back, crossing his arms.

As the room filled with laughter and banter, Y/N’s phone buzzed again—this time a private message from Chaewon: "y/n y/n y/n on the shuttle!! I saw your friends, where are you?!!"

Y/N quickly typed back, "just got to the house rn. we grabbed you some food for when you come 🫡"

Moments later, a reply came: "omg shut the fuck up ily. also wait so… some tea."

Y/N’s heart raced at the sudden change in tone. She leaned against the doorframe, typing back cautiously. "oop ✋ spill."

Chaewon’s next messages came rapid-fire: "well im behind seungcheol and seungkwan on this bus rn. and they’re not talking out loud but i can see them texting each other. and did you know seungcheol has a crush on you?"

Y/N’s jaw dropped, her pulse thundering in their ears. She stared at the screen, her friends’ laughter fading into the background.

"Y/N?" Mingyu’s voice broke through their thoughts. "What’s up?"

Y/N quickly locked her phone, plastering a grin on their face. "Nothing! Just… tea. You know how it is."

But inside, y/n’s thoughts spiraled. Seungcheol? A crush? On her? No fucking way

The night wasn’t supposed to spiral into chaos. Y/N had planned to stick with her friends, sip on vodka, and head home to her cozy ass bed. But now, surrounded by laughter, whispers, and more drama than a reality show, things were unraveling faster than they could process.

The moment they read Chaewon’s message, her world tilted.

"Seungcheol has a crush on you."

The words replayed in her mind like a broken record, even as she shoved the phone into her pocket, desperately trying to act normal. Chaewon didn’t elaborate, of course. She always left the juiciest details hanging, probably cackling on the shuttle right now.

"Y/N, you’re zoning out." Wonwoo’s voice brought her back to the room. His tone was calm, but his eyes were sharp—he noticed everything.

"I’m fine," Y/N lied, forcing a smile.

"Fine doesn’t look like that," Mingyu said, plopping down on the couch beside her. He nudged her shoulders with his. "Spill. What’s got you looking like you saw a ghost?"

"Nothing. Seriously, I just need to catch a second wind. Can’t we just go downstairs and drink and shit now? Come on." Y/N said, a little too quickly.

Before anyone could press further, the door creaked open, and a familiar figure stepped in. The room went silent for half a second before someone shouted, "VERNON?"

Y/N whipped her head around. Sure enough, there was Vernon—hands stuffed in his pockets, looking effortlessly cool yet slightly awkward as he took in the chaos of Hoshi’s room.

"Hey," he said casually, his gaze flickering to Y/N almost instinctively.

"You came!" Y/N blurted out, standing up before she had even realized it.

"Guess I did," Vernon said with a small smile. "Figured it was about time."

The room erupted into cheers and jeers, the group immediately teasing him for finally showing up to a party. Mingyu pulled him into a one-armed hug, ruffling his hair like an annoying older brother.

"Look at you, Mr. Social Butterfly," Mingyu teased. "Did Y/N guilt-trip you into this?"

Vernon’s ears turned pink, but he shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see what all the hype was about."

Y/N felt their cheeks heat up but quickly changed the subject. "Alright, leave him alone. Vernon’s here to have fun, not be interrogated."

"Fun? Here?" Vernon smirked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N shoved him lightly, the playful banter putting them both at ease—at least for the moment.

As the night wore on, the group split into smaller clusters. Mingyu and Wonwoo disappeared to the kitchen to grab snacks, Yuqi and Hoshi were locked in a heated debate about whose room was messier.

That left Y/N and Vernon sitting on the porch steps, the cool air buzzing with unspoken words. The lit end of a joint sitting between them.

"You good?" Vernon asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Y/N said automatically, but Vernon wasn’t buying it.

"You’re a terrible liar," he said, leaning back on his elbows. His voice was soft, teasing, but there was an edge of concern.

Y/N sighed, debating whether to spill everything. But Vernon had this way of making her feel safe—like she could tell him anything, and he’d never judge.

"Okay, fine," Y/N admitted. "Chaewon may or may not have just told me that… someone has a crush on me. But, it’s not someone I really.. Uh, enjoy to put it sort of lightly."

Vernon’s expression didn’t change much, but Y/N noticed the way his fingers twitched slightly against the step.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice calm. "And how do you feel about that?"

Y/N hesitated. "I don’t know. It’s Seungcheol."

This time, Vernon’s poker face faltered. His lips parted slightly, and his gaze dropped to the ground.

"Seungcheol," he repeated, his tone unreadable.

"Yeah," Y/N said, suddenly feeling awkward. "I mean… I didn’t even know he thought about me like that. To be honest I can’t understand why he’d ever, like we always hated each other. It’s fucking dumb."

Vernon was quiet for a long moment before he finally spoke. "Have you ever thought about him like that?"

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. "I mean… no? Definitely not anymore, maybe for a brief moment in time when I was in highschool, but."

"But?" Vernon pressed gently, looking at them now, his eyes searching y/n’s as he inhaled the flower.

"But…" Y/N trailed off, feeling her heart pick up speed. The words hung heavy in the air, unspoken but crystal clear.

"You’re too nice to everyone, you know," Vernon said suddenly, his voice quieter now. "Sometimes I wonder if you realize how many people look at you and wish they were the one you noticed. So I get it. But, you also don’t owe him anything especially with what went down the first time."

Y/N’s breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in.

"Vernon…"

"I’m not saying this to mess with you," he continued, his gaze steady. "I’m just telling you the truth."

Y/N felt like the ground had been ripped out from under them. Vernon’s calm, collected demeanor was gone, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

"I…" Y/N started, but their voice faltered.

"It’s okay," Vernon said quickly, standing up before she could respond. "I just needed to say it. You don’t have to say anything back. Chaewon is coming straight for us and you guys should talk, I’ll find you inside, okay? I expect you to make it worth my time out of my room later.” 

“You got it. But you don’t have to leave.” 

Before Y/N could stop him, Vernon handed her the rest of the joint, gave her a small kiss on top of her head and walked back into the house, leaving her alone on the porch with their thoughts.

Y/N stared at the lit joint in her hand, Vernon's words replaying in her mind like a haunting melody. The faint sound of laughter and music from inside the house drifted through the open door, grounding y/n just enough to notice Chaewon stepping onto the porch.

She wasn’t alone, of course—Chaewon was never truly alone. She had an effortless way of carrying an aura of confidence that turned heads. But tonight, her sharp gaze was focused entirely on Y/N.

"Are you hiding out here, or did Vernon leave you for some deep, weird, emotional soul-searching?" Chaewon asked, sliding onto the step beside her without waiting for an invitation. She reached for the joint in Y/N's hand, taking a drag as if it were hers to begin with.

"Both, maybe?" Y/N muttered, running a hand through her hair.

Chaewon blew out a puff of smoke, raising an eyebrow. "Both? Interesting. Spill it, bitch. I can tell you’re on the way to spiraling."

Y/N groaned, tilting her head back to look at the stars. "You’re literally part of the reason I’m spiraling."

"Me?" Chaewon gasped dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. "What did I do?"

"You told me about Seungcheol," Y/N hissed, sitting up straight to glare at her. "And now my brain won’t shut up about it."

Chaewon shrugged, looking entirely unbothered. "I just thought you deserved to know. Not my fault if you’re overthinking it. Also, I cannot sit on a juicy secret like that for too long."

"Of course I’m overthinking it." Y/N laughed. "It’s Seungcheol. You know how much history we have. And not the good kind."

"Exactly," Chaewon said  "Which is why I figured you’d want to know. Better to hear it from me than to have him confess out of nowhere, right? Or someone else finding out, as if Seungkwan hasn’t run the college gossip page before."

Y/N sighed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "What ever happened to that? I mean not the point right now I guess. But still it’s just weird. Like, why now? And why me?"

Chaewon smirked. "Have you ever considered that maybe he was pretending not to know you so you can start fresh with him because he likes you? Men can be dumb asses like that."

"Chaewon," Y/N groaned, burying their face in their hands.

"Okay, okay," Chaewon said, laughing softly. "Let’s backtrack. Do you like him? At all? Like, are you willing to try to be his friend or co-exist or whatever?"

"No," Y/N said firmly. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, they added, "I mean, I used to. A long time ago. But that was before all the shit happened."

Chaewon nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Fair enough. So what’s the problem, then? Just let him down easy and move on. You’re not obligated to feel the same way."

"It’s not that simple," Y/N muttered.

"Why not?" Chaewon pressed.

Y/N hesitated, her thoughts swirling. "Because.."

"Ah. Wait– I see." Chaewon’s eyes lit up with understanding. She leaned back, a sly grin spreading across her face. "So that’s what’s really going on."

"Don’t," Y/N warned, but Chaewon was already on a roll.

"Vernon comes out to a party for the first time in forever, and suddenly you’re out here sharing a joint and having heart-to-hearts. Sounds pretty romantic if you ask me."

"It’s not like that," Y/N said firmly, but even she didn’t sound convinced.

"Sure it’s not," Chaewon said, rolling her eyes. "Listen, Y/N. You’re my friend, so I’m going to give it to you straight. You’ve spent so much time worrying about everyone else’s feelings—Seungcheol’s, Vernon’s, whoever’s—that you’re forgetting to think about your own. So what do you want?"

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come.

Chaewon took one last drag from the joint before stubbing it out on the porch step. "Figure it out, my baby girl. Because if you don’t, someone’s going to get hurt. And it’s probably going to be you."

With that, she stood up, smoothing out her skirt and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"Oh, and one more thing," she added, glancing back at Y/N. "You’re a fucking catch and if you don’t see that by now, you’re even denser than I thought."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, but before she could respond, Chaewon grabbed her hand pulling her back inside and distract her with the party.

The night didn’t end on the porch for Y/N. By the time she re-entered the house after her conversation with Chaewon, the energy of her day had shifted into something more chaotic but liberating. The dim lighting and thumping bass created a atmosphere that wrapped Y/N in its haze, making her forget her issues even just momentarily 

Mingyu was now on the coffee table, dancing without a care, and Yuqi had somehow coerced Hoshi into an impromptu dance-off. Wonwoo, seated on the couch, shook his head at them, nursing a drink with a quiet grin.

“Y/N! Finally!” Yuqi shouted over the music when she spotted her, grabbing her arm and dragging her into the middle of the room. “You’ve been moping for too long. Time to drink.”

“I wasn’t moping—” Y/N began to protest, but Yuqi cut her off by twirling her into a spin.

“Yes, you were, you little lying whore. But not anymore.”

As the music shifted to an upbeat track, Y/N decided to let go, her earlier tension melting into the rhythm. She danced, laughing with Yuqi, dodging Mingyu’s wild arm movements, and matching Hoshi’s exaggerated moves just to get a rise out of him.

Chaewon appeared by her side, her hair slightly disheveled but her grin wide. “See? Told you this party would be good for you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled. “Yeah, yeah. You’re always right, aren’t you?”

“Don’t you forget it,” Chaewon quipped, raising her cup in a mock toast.

As the song changed again, Vernon emerged from the kitchen with a red solo cup in hand, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Y/N. He didn’t join them at first but leaned casually against the wall, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her laugh and dance.

“Are you going to stand there looking mysterious, or are you going to stop being a little bitch and join us?” Y/N called out to him, her breathless voice cutting through the music.

Vernon chuckled but shook his head. “Na, I love being a little bitch.”

“Oh, come on.” Yuqi chimed in, grabbing his wrist and attempting to pull him into the middle of their circle. “You can’t just stand there looking cool. It’s fucking illegal.”

Vernon resisted for a moment before reluctantly stepping forward. “People do assume I’m a bad boy, officer.” he said dryly.

The group cheered as Vernon finally joined in, his movements understated but in perfect sync with the beat. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone, which somehow made him even more magnetic. Y/N caught herself watching him a little too closely.

At some point, Mingyu decided it was time for shots and disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a tray of tiny glasses. “One for everyone.” he declared.

Y/N hesitated, but Chaewon nudged her. “Just one. Come on.”

With an eye roll, Y/N accepted the glass, clinking it against Chaewon’s before downing the liquid. It burned on the way down, but the warmth that spread through her chest was worth it.

The night blurred after that, a mix of laughter, terrible karaoke when Yuqi found a microphone, and group photos that would undoubtedly resurface in their group chat the next day. At one point, Y/N found herself sitting on the floor, her back against the couch, as Chaewon rested her head on her shoulder.

“You look lighter,” Chaewon said quietly, her voice cutting through the noise.

“Maybe I am,” Y/N admitted, glancing around the room. “I think I needed this.”

Chaewon smiled, her eyes warm with understanding. “You’re welcome.”

As the night stretched into the early hours, the group gradually began to disperse, some collapsing into makeshift beds while others lingered to talk. Y/N found herself sitting by Vernon again, this time in the living room, the noise of the party replaced by a comfortable silence.

“Told you I’d see you later,” Vernon said softly, nudging her shoulder with his.

Y/N smiled, resting her head against the couch. “I’m glad you came out tonight.”

“Me too,” he replied, his voice steady but tinged with something she couldn’t quite place.

“How has everything been? Med School finally getting the baddies down?” 

Vernon just laughed and nodded his head, before he could get another word out Seungcheol entered the room and stopped in his tracks redirecting his attention from his phone to Y/n and Vernon sitting together, Hoshi sleeping on their feet like a small dog. 

“Hey guys.” Seungcheol called out quietly, creeping over, trying to not disturb Hoshi as he walked passed and sat on the couch to Vernons side. 

“Hey.” The pair just mumbled at the same time, now noticing the awkward shift in the energy. 

Vernon stood up and turned his head to y/n, ignoring the other boy's presence. “I’m going to carry this one to his room, you good?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure to come back.” Y/n giggled knowing Vernon wouldn’t leave her hanging for too long. 

“Don’t miss me too much.” As Vernon hoisted a half-asleep Hoshi into his arms, he shot Y/N a wink before making his way out of the room, leaving her and Seungcheol alone. The air seemed to grow heavier the moment the door clicked shut, the silence now sharp and charged.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the couch, suddenly hyper-aware of Seungcheol sitting just a foot away. He leaned back against the cushions, his hands clasped together as he stared at the coffee table.

"So..." Seungcheol started, his voice tentative, breaking the uneasy silence. "You and Vernon seem close."

Y/N glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "We’ve been friends for a really long time, yeah. Why?"

He shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "No reason, I guess."

Y/N wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she let the comment hang in the air.

Seungcheol hesitated, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look, I know this is awkward. I wasn’t trying to interrupt anything."

"You didn’t," Y/N said quickly, though her tone was clipped

“So you guys aren’t da—” 

“No. Just two old friends.” Y/n gave him a smile just out of politeness trying to not lead on too much that she had an extreme desire to not be around him. 

“How did you guys meet?” 

Y/N knew the answer didn’t need much thought, but the weight of the conversation—and what it might lead to—hung heavily in her chest. She forced a smile, her fingers idly picking at the hem of her sleeve. "It was forever ago. Our moms were childhood friends. Vernon and I practically grew up together."

"Ah," Seungcheol said with a slow nod. "That explains it. You guys have that effortless thing. Like you’ve known each other forever."

There was something about the way he said it—soft, almost wistful—that made Y/N narrow her eyes. She didn’t like where this was going. "Yeah, I guess we do, but you knew that didn’t you? Why are you pretending to not know me? To manipulate me to make my life hell again? What?" she said, her tone neutral.

Seungcheol leaned back against the couch, studying her. "I don’t remember you mentioning him much back in high school."

Y/N let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Maybe because every time I tried, I’d get interrupted by someone making my life hell?"

The jab landed hard, judging by the way Seungcheol flinched. His lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out.

"Sorry, but you know it's true." Y/N said quickly, though her tone was anything but apologetic. 

"No, you’re right," Seungcheol admitted, his voice quieter now. "I deserve that."

Y/N looked at him, her expression unreadable. Part of her wanted to push further, to let him feel even a fraction of the frustration and hurt she’d bottled up for years. But another part of her—the part that was sick of carrying that weight—wanted to let it go.

"Why do you care so much about Vernon, anyway?" she asked suddenly, her voice sharper than she intended.

Seungcheol seemed taken aback by the question. He hesitated for a moment before answering. "I don’t. Not like that. I guess I just wanted to know more about the people you let in."

Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. "Why does it matter to you who I let in?"

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. Then he let out a breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Because I used to be one of those people," he said quietly.

Y/N froze, his words hitting her like a punch to the gut. She wanted to deny it, to tell him he’d never really been "in." But the truth was more complicated than that, and she hated it.

"You were one of those people," she said finally, her voice steady but cold. "And then you weren’t. That’s on you."

“Look,” he began, his tone uncharacteristically unsure. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the couch. “Everything?”

“You know what I mean,” he said, his voice quieter now. “High school. What my friends did to you. What I did to you. It was—”

“Cruel,” Y/N interrupted, their tone sharper than she intended. “You humiliated me, Seungcheol. You and your friends took something personal, something I trusted you with, and ruined my fucking life for a long time.”

Seungcheol winced, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I know. And I’ve been carrying that guilt with me for years.”

Y/N laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You’ve been carrying guilt? Try carrying the humiliation of walking into school and having everyone know something you didn’t want them to. Of being laughed at, whispered about, avoided. You think your guilt compares to that?”

“I’m not saying it does,” Seungcheol said quickly, his voice desperate. “I just… I need you to know that I regret it. I regret all of it. And if I could take it back, I would.”

Y/N stared at him, her chest tightening with the weight of old memories. Memories of tear-streaked nights and the sting of betrayal.

“What do you want from me, Seungcheol?” she asked finally, her voice low. “Do you want me to forgive you? To say it’s all water under the bridge?” 

He looked up at them then, his expression raw. “I just want you to know I’m sorry. That I’ve changed. That I never meant to hurt you the way I did.”

Y/N felt her defenses waiver, but the anger bubbling beneath the surface was hard to ignore. "You can regret it all you want," she said finally, her voice steady. "But that doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t change who you were back then. People say they change, but they often don’t. You don’t just get to say you’re sorry and expect everything to be okay.”

“I’m not expecting that,” Seungcheol said softly. “I just… I needed you to hear it. Even if it doesn’t mean anything to you.”

There was a long silence, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Finally, Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair.

 Seungcheol's gaze dropped to the floor. "I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. And I’ve spent years regretting it."

"Regret doesn’t fix anything," Y/N shot back.

"I’m not trying to fix it," he said, looking up at her now, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. Desperation? Guilt? "I just don't want you to think I didn’t care. Because I did. I do."

The room felt impossibly still, the weight of his words pressing down on Y/N’s chest. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know if there was anything to say.

"You had a funny way of showing it," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I was an idiot," Seungcheol admitted, his voice cracking slightly. "I cared too much about what other people thought. I let them get in my head, and I let you down. I’ll never stop regretting that."

Y/N stared at him, her emotions warring inside her. She wanted to believe him, to let his apology wash away the years of hurt. But she couldn’t ignore the voice in her head reminding her of all the times he hadn’t stood up for her, hadn’t been there when she needed him most.

 "I wish I could go back and do things differently."

Y/N looked away, her throat tight. "Well, you can’t. And honestly, I’m not sure it would make a difference even if you could."

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Y/N stood abruptly, needing to put some distance between them.

"I’m going to check on my friends," she said, avoiding Seungcheol’s gaze.

He stood too, his movements hesitant. "Y/N..."

She turned to look at him, her expression unreadable. "What?"

"I’m sorry," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N didn’t respond. She just turned and walked out of the room, leaving Seungcheol alone. 

The hallway was quieter now, most of the partygoers either gone or passed out in various corners of the house. She made her way towards Hoshi’s room where Vernon had carried him to earlier, her steps quick and purposeful, as though walking faster might help her shake off the weight of the conversation with Seungcheol.

When she reached the door, it was slightly open, and she could hear Vernon’s low voice murmuring something. She pushed it open gently and found him sitting on the edge of the bed, tucking Hoshi under a blanket. Hoshi was completely out cold, sprawled across the mattress like a starfish.

"Hey," Vernon said softly, glancing up at her as she stepped inside. His voice was calm, but his eyes scanned her face, picking up on the lingering tension she hadn’t quite hidden. "You okay?"

Y/N nodded automatically but then hesitated. She let out a shaky breath, leaning against the doorframe. "Seungcheol," she said simply, her tone carrying all the weight of what had just happened.

Vernon frowned slightly, standing up and walking toward her. "What did he say?"

She crossed her arms, her gaze dropping to the floor. "He tried to apologize. Again. Said he regretted everything. But I don’t know… It’s just—he doesn’t get to do that, you know? He doesn’t get to say sorry and expect it to fix everything."

Vernon nodded, his expression serious as he leaned against the wall beside her. "You’re right. He doesn’t."

Y/N looked up at him, searching his face for something—validation, reassurance, anything to help her make sense of the storm in her head. "But a part of me… I don’t know, Vern. A part of me feels like maybe I should just let it go. For me, not for him."

He tilted his head, considering her words. "Letting it go doesn’t mean forgiving him or forgetting what happened. It just means you’re not carrying it around anymore."

"Yeah, but how do I do that?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly. "How do I let it go when it’s just… there? Like this permanent scar."

Vernon reached out, his hand brushing lightly against her arm. "You don’t have to do it all at once," he said gently. "It’s not about pretending it didn’t hurt or that it wasn’t real. It’s about giving yourself permission to move forward, at your own pace."

His words were like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her emotions. She let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her eyes. "When did you get so wise?"

He grinned, the warmth in his smile instantly making her feel lighter. "Med school, obviously. They teach you all kinds of emotional shit there."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help smiling. "Right. Emotional bandages 101."

"Exactly," he said, his tone playful but his eyes still soft and steady on hers.

For a moment, they just stood there, the quiet hum of Hoshi's snoring wrapping around them like a cocoon. Y/N felt the tension in her chest begin to ease, replaced by a comforting sense of safety.

"Come on," Vernon said suddenly, straightening up and taking her hand. "Let’s go."

She blinked, caught off guard. "What? Where?"

"Anywhere," he said with a shrug. "The backyard, the porch, I don’t care. You need a breather, and honestly, so do I. Plus, I think Hoshi might start snoring louder any second now, and I’m not ready for that."

Y/N laughed, the sound breaking through the heaviness she’d been carrying all night. "Alright. He’s lucky he’s cute."

They slipped out of the room quietly, making their way to the back porch. The cool night air hit her skin like a refreshing wave, and she breathed deeply, letting it fill her lungs. Vernon let go of her hand but stayed close, leaning against the railing as they looked out at the quiet yard.

"You always know how to make things feel less complicated," Y/N said after a moment, her voice soft.

"That’s because they’re not as complicated as you think," Vernon replied, his tone light but sincere.

She glanced at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You make it sound so easy."

"It’s not," he admitted. "But you don’t have to figure it all out tonight. Just be here. With me. Right now."

Y/N nodded, the tension in her shoulders melting away as she leaned against him as he enveloped her in his arms. The stars above them shimmered faintly, and for the first time that night, she felt like she could breathe again.

As the silence stretched between them, comfortable and unspoken, she realized just how grateful she was for her friends—for their steady presence, the unwavering support, and the way they always seemed to know exactly what she needed, even when she didn’t.

note: hi. omg. I really did drop the ball on posting this for a hot second, but we will be back to our regularly scheduled programming from now on <3

taglist: @minhui896@sun-daddy-yoriichi@luchiet@miles-sketchbook@kissesfrmwonwoo@readerlozies@vcutparis@mxnhoeuwu@writingbarnes@headlockimnida@odxrilove@jeonghaniehaee@bath1lda @wonwootakemyheart @dokyomis@hanniesdegree @blvkkeddcc@gyuguys @rakshithanotrao @multiplumes

[popiplant]

let me dream ..

[iceclew]

I'm cracking up so much right now like....I really did it, wtf XD

First I wanted to go like "this is not my fault, this is @mechazushi's idea", but to be honest.. I had so much fcking fun with this.. ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ )

The idea is just *glorious* and so fcking stupid, it's perfect again.. https://www.tumblr.com/mechazushi/754110618707066880/so-this-isnt-so-much-an-incorrect-quotes

So this was her original post, the idea sprouting, so to say :D

Credit on your brain rot, it's hilarious @mechazushi :D

The less I get done in RL - the more creative I get, it's such a horrible curse..

Should I do a split up version of this as well, I wonder..? Like..all of them in seperate pics? (¯―¯ ٥)

[prince-steele]

it sometimes (all the time) makes me sad to see how people tend to be constantly on edge with each other, or fear being rejected + hated for the most innocuous things. it feels like internet culture has become one where everyone constantly has to apologise + ingratiate themselves to try and avoid scorn.

like, I'll see people apologising for not constantly making their lives accessible to their followers, apologising for having a differing perspective, or just for behaving in a natural way because they're afraid it'll be mocked or attacked.

I find tumblr to be the least aggressive place on the internet, though (as it retains its oldnet charm), and I really wish sometimes I could hold my friends + moots by the shoulders and just. let them exhale. and not feel constantly on edge or terrified of being their authentic selves.

It's okay if ur asocial, it's okay if u disagree with somebody, it's okay to not want to constantly be at the mercy of those around u, and it's ok to not want for other ppl to have constant invasive access to ur life. it's okay to breathe.

[tonycries]

Unmistakably Yours - G.S.

Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.

Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.

He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.

Because you weren’t here.

“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left. 

Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you? 

With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-

“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”

“Where is she?”

---

It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse. 

Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything. 

Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly. 

One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?

Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere. 

God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-

That was when you felt it. 

The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe. 

You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words. 

Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.

“My love?”

Satoru.

It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought. 

Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go. 

All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own. 

A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back. 

“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms. 

It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you? 

Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru. 

“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him. 

He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-

Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.

Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.

You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by. 

Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend. 

“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”

Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core. 

Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”

There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra. 

Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.

Shit. He’s lost it.

Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you. 

Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.

Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?

Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.

The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.

But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.

Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.

It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.

Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-

“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”

With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker. 

“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”

You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now. 

“But-”

“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”

Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.

Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”

“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”

And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down. 

Rip!

It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity. 

He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor. 

“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”

That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”

Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts. 

And it was so unfair. 

Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were. 

And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt. 

Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used. 

And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now. 

“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.

“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”

He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything. 

“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”

You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance. 

But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.

Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier. 

“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”

And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.

You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close. 

“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer. 

But it wasn’t fast enough. 

Not for Satoru, at least.

Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-

That cheat. 

You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard. 

Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time. 

“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-” 

One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. 

Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything. 

Desperate. Violent, even.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of. 

And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue. 

“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes. 

Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild. 

Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then. 

You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time. 

You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”

“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”

“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum. 

He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 

Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice. 

And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick. 

God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy. 

And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…” 

“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”

“But-”

God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t. 

Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him. 

Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break. 

It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks. 

“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.

He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.

Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.

“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”

You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”

“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”

And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face. 

If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting. 

“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.

And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”

At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow. 

Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet. 

“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic.  “I’m…”

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.

It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.

“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”

And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut. 

Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it. 

Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-

“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”

Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”

And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.

Pretty. Always so fucking pretty. 

And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.

Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.

“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”

It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind. 

“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”

The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain. 

And then it’s black. 

---

“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”

Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so. 

And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.

Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?

“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”

A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel? 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[milktiicup]

H-h-hey.. senpai… I was wondering if you could make more about Mr Crawling! (I LOVEDDD YOUR PREVIOUS FAN FIC ABT HIM) because he’s such a cutie tbh and I love him sm so I was wondering maybe if you could make something about how he would react to the reader spending more time with someone else (coworker preferably!)

Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do this..!

(Can I be 🦁 anon?)

the jealous type!

His face scrunches. “Not you… smell bad. Someone else.”

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ omg my first anon >.< ofc u can be 🦁 anon!!!!

warnings. more fluff/comfort hehe, spoilers for end04

It’s late when you return home. If it was any other day, you’d be scheming around the streets with your crowbar- but life is different now. 

You have a commitment at home. Your new roommate… boyfriend? thing. It’s almost as routine as having a pet; coming home, giving him a pat on the head, giving him his completely normal legally obtained soup and ending the day snuggled up on the sofa with him at your feet. 

Sure, he’s the one who came with you all the way from that other world and didn’t have any friends here, but does that mean you can’t? It’s not like you could bring Mr. Crawling with you to work, or after work drinks with your coworkers. Normal people can still see him, after all. He’s just… a little hard for other people to notice- you picked up on that when your parents dropped by on an impromptu visit one evening.

When you kick your shoes off when you come in through the front door, you feel guilty. You can tell he’s a bit down- of course, Mr. Crawling still tackled greeted you with his overzealous, unnecessarily over the top hug. 

“You return!” he says, every time without fail. 

“I return,” you reply, petting his head, but something feels off. He doesn’t let go immediately, and his usual enthusiasm is muted.

Mr. Crawling pauses, his face stuffed into your neck. You quirk a brow, curiously eyeing him as he takes a big sniff of your skin and clothes. His face scrunches. “Not you… smell bad. Someone else.”

Is he the jealous type? Wow, and since when was his sense of smell so good?

“You can smell my friend?” you blink at him, cringing as you feel a knot in your stomach. You try to explain, “Uhm… someone else… uhhhh… my friend.”

“Other friend?” Mr. Crawling frowns, sitting back on his feet, the space between you growing slightly colder.

You pull yourself up from the floor, careful to meet his uncertain gaze. “Other friend,” you confirm.

“Friend… same me?”

You sigh, wishing this language was more descriptive. It’s hard to explain something so complex when neither of you really understands it fully. You tap your fingers nervously against your leg, thinking. “I don’t understand…” you sigh, the weight of the misunderstanding settling on you. “They’re human.”

Mr. Crawling’s frown only grows deeper. He shakes his head, and scoots himself closer to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, his hair falling over the both of you as if trying to shield you from everything outside of your house. “Friend like this?” 

Resting your head on his shoulder, you let out a content sigh. “Not like this, Crawling.”

“You one. You me two. Not like three.” His grip tightens around you, pulling you as close as he possibly can, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “Me like you. Worry… not like me. Gone long time… Smell someone else.”

You pull back slightly, feeling the pressure of his arms around you. He’s not just possessive, he’s scared. You stretch your arms out. “Like you. Big like. See? This much!” You hold your hands closer together, parallel to each other. “Friend ok. Little like. Understand?”

You chuckle lightly, but the soft pang in your chest makes you pause. “You get it now, Crawling?” you mumble. You reach up and scratch his head absently, a familiar gesture that seems to soothe both of you. “Uhm… when I leave, I go to work. You know work, right?” He nuzzles into your palm, and you just assume he does, for the time being. “Work friend! Not important. You important. You, uh… you understand me?”

“Me understand,” he murmurs into your palm, his cool lips tickling the skin. “Smell bad… Me only like you. You smell good."

"I know you like me, Crawling. I like you, too."

He lets out a satisfied hum, his body relaxing again, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he’s truly getting it—or if he just likes the idea of being yours as much as you like the idea of him being yours. He pulls your head closer to his chest, and that’s when you decide you don’t really need to build rapport with your coworkers that much, not when you have a cute ghost waiting for you back at home.

[d3stinyist1red]

out of everyone on yandere town, yan cowboy is definitely my favourite <3

YESSS IKR HES SO CUTESYY

yan cowboy who wants you to ride him badly

yan cowboy who first meets you when you stumble upon his farm, literally the cows were gonna jump ur ass until he popped up

"hey there, sweets! What'cha doin' around here?" He asks, looking at you with a tilted head as he pat the cow's head. "U-uh, sorry i just-" you got interrupted by the cowboy laughing at ya.

"ma, why do you seem so nervous? It's alright!" He said grinning down at you, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and introduces himself.

yan cowboy who is now ur buddy, talking to you every second of his fucking day like damn lil bro chill

yan cowboy who you began seeing everyday, coincidences piling up. No matter where you went, he was there, lingering just at the edge of your vision.

yan cowboy who wants you to ride with him and his horse everyday, holding onto your waist as he leads the horse on where to go, your back to his front, slowly rubbing himself against you.

yan cowboy who is a possessive and jealous freak. Any interaction you have with others, specifically other men, makes his jaw clench and his eyes narrow. He might not say anything at first, but you’ll notice how quiet he has gotten.

yan cowboy who confronts you about the man you were hanging out with earliar

"Hey darlin', what was that man tellin' you? Why were you talkin' to him? Do you think hes better than me? Sweets, im sorry. Darlin' lets talk about this, okay?"

"boy i literally just asked him wheres the nearest wingstop"

"why? are you hungry? Because I have some meat for you could eat-"

yan cowboy who makes you the center of his world, if you dont talk to him hes GONNA AND WILL have a bad day, grumpy and pissed off until you talk to him

yan cowboy who has a garden his mother owns, and always gives you flowers, your favorite ones

yan cowboy who literally every woman wants bc hes fine asf, strong, and BRO HES SWEET TOO LIKE HELLO??? but he only needs you. Whenever hes talking with another woman, he always drifts his eyes away from her to try to find you, not paying attention to whatever the woman was saying

yan cowboy who literallys gets so hard whenever he sees you bend down to get some strawberries you planted, already knowing he was gonna fist himself inside his car

yan cowboy who always gives you handwritten notes

"hello n/n! I might not be able to see you today because of my mother telling me ive been slacking off since ive been leaving early from farming. But darling, you know I can't stay away from you for so long! I need to see you! Anyway baby, I left you some cash, treat yourself, aight babes? - Your lovely cowboy <3"

yan cowboy who sees you growing some plants in the hot sun and immediatly panics, he runs over to you with an umbrella. A UMBRELLA BRO

"darlin'! Its so hot out here for you to be outside! Come inside, love!"

"bro ive only been outside for 3 minutes"

"3 minutes too long! Now cmon and rest! Ill do the work, lovely!"

yan cowboy who helps you when you barely started growing plants and stuff, guiding you with his hands ontop of yours, his chin on your shoulder.

yan cowboy who sees you carrying a heavy bale of hay, and immediately scolds you

You wipe the sweat from your brow as you lift the bale of hay, determined to carry your weight on the farm. Your cowboy always helps you with everything like bro i could be independent too hoe. You’ve seen him do this like a thousand times, and you’re confident you can handle it too bc ur a bad bitch period

But before you can take more than a few steps, a shadow falls over you, and you feel a firm hand on your arm. You glance up, and lowkey you were scared it was gonna be schoolboy69 lowkey but nah their infront of you was your cowboy, eyes narrowed in a mix of worry and frustration. He was practically glaring at you, mad that you picked up something without his help, even if you picked up something as heavy as a bag of cookies he would be mad and see red like alpha dawg sigma 4000

“What do you think you’re doin’, darlin’?” His voice is low, but you still heard the irritation in his voice.

“I’m just helping out,” you say, trying to brush it off as no big deal. “It’s just a bale of hay, I'll can handle it.” You said shrugging, about to walk past him until you felt the heavy hay get off your shoulders in a quick manner.

that lil bitch took the hay and walked away but not before blowing u a kiss and saying "i love u n/n, get ready for tonight bc imma need u to blow my back OUT-"

yan cowboy who always is complimenting you, doesnt even matter if your in ur christmas pjs from 2016 he will say "id lowkey eat you out in that"

yan cowboy who is ur obsessed boy who luvs you more than he should<3

yan cowboy who is ur such cowboy who couldnt be more lucky to have you with him! <333

GUYS IM BACK FROM THE DEAD BITCHESSS

GUYS YALL COULD SEND REQUESTS BUT ITS GONNA TAKE A LITTLE BIT BC IM STILL WORKING ON OTHER DRAFTS LIKE THESE

GUYS WHO HAS YAN WINDERBREAKER MANHWA BOOKS PLS I NEED JAY JO AND OWEN

[qtboni]

╰﹒ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒, 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

OVERVIEW: Simon woke up to you sleeping far away from him in the bed so he pulls you back to him <//3

C/W: none just clingy simon missing u in his sleep (pure fluff) !!

W/C: 944 bubs

Simon shifted in his bed, feeling the empty coolness beside him. He reached out, wanting to feel your warmth, but his hand met nothing but empty sheets and bed covers.

"Love..?" He whispers faintly, his voice filled with a quiet desperation to find you.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Simon slowly opens them to find you there, on the other side of the bed, lying with your back turned to him.

He lets out a quiet chuckle at the position you're in, your legs flung out in a starfish, snoring the night away. It's a silly sight, but it cracks him up, and he can't help but chuckle softly.

"Baby..." Simon sleepily whines to himself, calling out to you. "C'mere.."

Simon gently moves closer to you, pulling on the sheets to free himself. You feel his arm encircle your waist as he pulls you towards his warm body, spooning you in his arms.

Your skin meets his, and the warmth from his body causes your heart to skip a beat. You feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, feeling peaceful and safe in his embrace.

As he holds you close, Simon's thoughts drift to you. He thinks about how soft he is for you, how you make him feel alive and whole, how he doesn't want to let go, ever.

You're his everything, his world, and he can't imagine life without you. He feels his heart swell with love for you, and the need to be close to you and hold you tight, to never let you go.

With you in his arms, Simon feels complete. He would do anything to keep you close, to love and cherish you every day for the rest of his life.

You're the love of his life, and he will never forget the moment he first held you close, feeling your heart beat against his own, and knowing that he had found his soulmate.

As he holds you close, Simon's body moves instinctively, nuzzling his face in your neck, wanting to feel your warmth, to be closer to you. He wraps his arms around you tighter, unable to bear the thought of ever being apart from you again.

The warmth coming from his body slowly roused you from your slumber, your eyes fluttering open as Simon's arms tightened around your waist. You could feel his heart pounding against your back, beating in time with yours, and your heart skipped a beat in response.

"Simon?" You called out to him, voice still slightly hoarse from sleep, and you could hear the smile in his voice as he responded.

"I'm here, love," he whispered, his voice low and full of love, and you could feel his body pressing up to yours, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. His hands softly carressing your waist and hips. You felt his breath upon your neck, his heart beating in yours, and you felt a deep sense of peace wash over you.

"I love you," he whispered, almost inaudible.

As his arms wrapped around you, you felt a rush of warmth and comfort wash over you. His voice was low and gentle, and you could feel the love and intensity in every word.

You loved him more with each passing moment; each time he held you, each time he told you how much he loved you, and each time you felt his heart beating against yours.

"I love you, too, Simon," you whispered back, further relaxing into his embrace as you pecked his bicep that was hugging you close by your shoulders.

You could feel the love and intensity in every part of his body, from the warmth of his breath against your neck to the way his heart beat in time with yours. You knew that you would always be by his side, loving him and cherishing him for all eternity.

As you drifted back to sleep, his arms wrapped around you tightly, unwilling to let you go and wishing to always be this close. You could feel the love in every part of his body, and you knew that this was the love that could never be broken.

Simon pressed a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck, his breath warm and soothing against your skin, and you felt a pang of love and comfort wash over you.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, unwilling to let you go even for a moment, and he held you against him, feeling your heartbeat against his chest.

"Goodnight, love," he whispered, his voice low and filled with all the love he felt for you as he cuddled you close.

"G'night..." you sighed dreamily and closed your eyes.

As you drifted off to sleep, with your head resting against his chest, Simon couldn't help the rush of affection for you. He knew that you were the love of his life, that he would do anything for you, and that he couldn't imagine a future without you by his side.

Holding you close to him, he felt your heart beating slowly and regularly against his chest, and he felt a deep sense of peace wash over him. Every fiber of his being told him that he loved you, that you were everything he had ever wanted in life, and that he would always be there to protect you, to love you, and to cherish you.

He whispers your name softly, almost inaudible, as he drifted off to sleep, holding you tightly in his embrace. The love and intensity in his voice, in his touch, and in his eyes, was overwhelming, and he knew that you felt it too.

navi / masterlist !

[velvetreds]

HONEYMOON PHASE — A. MIYA

cws; swearing, gn?reader but it gives fem to me even tho theres not descriptions of reader or gendered pet names, married life, tooth rotting fluff, yeah.

wc; 605

"'s it too late," atsumu's voice is muffled and his words slurred as he speaks, face buried in your shoulder.

"mm?" you respond sleepily, not really listening to him. strong tan arms are wrapped around your middle, and you absentmindedly curl your fingers into his untoned bleached hair. he purrs at the feeling, pulling you closer to him so he can press his mouth to your neck, grinning lazily. you make a slight noise of protest as you feel his teeth against your neck, and then he bites you, really bites you, to make you shut up.

"mmh, leave the jackals, y'know? fuck 'em, i could become a hermit or a monk or somethin'."

a drowsy, surprised giggle bubbles out of you, and his smile widens in response. he likes making you laugh.

"tsumu," you say, and he realises with glee that you still have your rough, lower-than-usual, sexy morning voice. "tsumu, monks can't get married, i think. and they have to be bald."

he groans, but you're not sure which one it's in response to. switching tactics, you half-heartedly try to push him off you.

"lemme stay here," he whines. "i love you, i wanna—"

"tsumu, no," you chide him, and he quiets down like a kicked puppy. raising his head, he pulls your left hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the spot just above your wedding ring before he gets up with a sleepy yawn.

"five years into our marriage and you still don't let me sleep in," he says with a pout.

you ignore him, pausing mid-movement to admire his sculpted figure and the way his body moves as he transfers his wedding ring from his finger to the chain around his neck. when he notices you looking, a bright, boyish grin lights up his face. "can't risk losing it," he tells you, still smiling. you can't help but mirror his expression with your own giddy, lovestruck smile.

you're fixing up breakfast in the kitchen when he comes in, although he's still not dressed to leave yet. you turn to him, smiling when he nuzzles his face into yours. "baby, can i drive you t'work?"

you shake your head, hands coming up to cup his face. "you're already running late, love."

he rolls his eyes in response, angling his head to kiss your palm. "baby, best friend, love of my fuckin' life. is it such a crime to want to spend more time with you?"

"we have all the time in the world, tsumu," you say. "eat quick and go."

"not leaving the house without you," he says sulkily. "they can practice without their favourite setter for a bit."

"favourite? that's debatable," you tease, sitting down next to him with your own breakfast. atsumu kisses your knuckles again with a sly grin, ignoring your dig at him. "but i'm your favourite setter."

"you're my favourite everything," you say, and then you laugh as the red spreads across his cheeks and his nose and the tips of his ears. your breakfasts remain untouched as he leans in to kiss all over your face in a bid to distract you.

"are you flirting with me, y/n l/n?" he asks.

"maybe," you reply, still laughing.

he shuts you up with a kiss. "what if we skip work today?"

"and do what, exactly?"

"laze around, y'know. i just want to stay with you, spend some time together."

"hmm." you pretend to think, but your mind is already made up. "i dunno..."

he kisses your palm, and then your wrist. "please?"

you've never been able to resist those stupid puppy eyes, anyways.

I HATE THIS ITS SO HAPPY. kmsing. drop a like, rb and or comment if u liked this 🤔🤔 husband atsumu u could fix me

[wheeboo]

for a moment, forever | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which while shopping for wedding dresses for your best friend, you can't help but want to try one on too. PAIRING. choi seungcheol x gn!reader (ft. jihyo from twice as reader's engaged best friend) GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. mild cursing, terms of endearment, reader wears a wedding dress, cheol doesn't show up until like halfway into the fic HAHAH WORD COUNT. 2.2k

notes: this is lowkey me describing my dream dress if i do somehow get married lmao so also self indulgent too ig, and it was fun searching up dresses! this also reminds me of that one scene from extraordinary attorney woo. if u know u know :') happy belated bday cheol <3

[02:39PM | y/n] should be done with jihyo's appointment in a few hours!! you can pick me up then bub❤️

[2:41PM | cheol 💕] Sounds good, my love. I'll see you then 😊

"Wait, oh my God, that one is beautiful!"

"Right?!" Jihyo exclaims eagerly before swiping to the next photo in her camera roll, on it displayed a gorgeous mermaid wedding dress that she had saved from Pinterest. "Okay, not sure if I like the mermaid ones but this was one was too pretty to not be saved."

"You can always ask to try one on too. I still think you'd rock whichever one you put on," You tell her, lacing an arm around hers as the two of you approach the bridal boutique that was just around the corner. "I still can't believe you're getting married."

When you and Jihyo exchange knowing glances with each other, squeals of excitement escape both of you. It feels surreal, almost like a dream knowing that your best friend is about to walk down the aisle and take her first steps into married life. Just ahead of the two of you, the bridal boutique gleams with soft lights and elegantly displayed gowns in the windows.

As you both step inside, the cozy warmth of the boutique wraps around you, and a subtle, lingering floral scent and delicate perfume fills the air. The interior is enchanting yet inviting, with a variety of dresses arranged by style. The boutique's consultant greets you both with a welcoming smile, and after a brief chat and a rundown of the different options, she leads you to a private area where Jihyo can begin her fitting.

You follow Jihyo as she naturally gravitates towards the gowns on display. You can tell she's already picturing herself in each dress. It's a bit overwhelming being surrounded by so many intricately designed dresses, like you've walked straight into a world of fairytale. Lace, satin, tulle𑁋every fabric imaginable seems to be represented here.

While helping Jihyo pick out some dresses, you can't lie that some have caught your eye more than you can admit. Knowing that one day these dresses will be worn by someone on of the most important days of your life fills you with awe. The thought makes your heart full, and briefly, you can't but help but imagine yourself walking down the aisle one day.

For a moment, your mind flickers to the thought of Seungcheol, and your heart does a jump.

One particular white tulle, floral embroidered dress with off-shoulder sleeves catches your attention. It's a perfect blend of elegance and romance. You let your hand run over the delicate embroidery, marvelling with admiration at the elaborate details caressed over every inch of it. The floral patterns are so finely crafted that they seem to bloom like real flowers right out of the fabric.

"Y/N, you need to try that on right now!"

You turn swiftly at the sound of Jihyo's commanding voice. "What? No, I can't𑁋"

"Come on, please!" Jihyo urges insistently while holding just about a dozen dresses in her hands. "It's so beautiful!"

"But this is for your special day, not𑁋"

"Honey, you and Seungcheol have been together for so long now, and sooner or later, you're going to have your special day too. Just try it on for fun, and I’d love to see how it looks on you!"

Okay, she really didn't have to bring up Seungcheol like that, but now you can't get it out of your head. An odd, fluttery feeling bursts in your stomach on top of the embarrassment crawling up your neck.

"Fine," You relent with a playful look. "But I'll do it after you try on all your dresses. Once again, today is for you, missy."

A wide grin spreads across her face as she shuffles towards the fitting room. "It's a deal!"

The next hour or so you spend lounging on the couch as Jihyo tries on dress after dress. Each one seems to bring out a different side of her: from elegant to dramatic, playful to sophisticated. You can’t help but laugh and cheer her on, snapping pictures and videos to capture every moment. You also help with various aspects of the fittings, from adjusting straps to even adding the veil on her head.

"You look like a princess!" You exclaim, clapping your hands as she twirls in a voluminous ball gown in front of the mirror.

"I feel like one!" Jihyo giggles, even doing a dramatic hair flip to add for an endearing touch.

The last one that she tries on is a mermaid dress with stunning lace detailing and a long, flowing train that spreads across the floor like ocean waves. As she steps out of the fitting room, the dress hugs her curves perfectly, and she looks every bit of a confident, radiant bride shining in her own element.

"Girl," You gasp out, voice full of awe. "that dress was made for you. You look absolutely stunning!"

Jihyo gazes at herself in the mirror. "Really?"

"Yes!" You claim, and you almost want to cry thinking about your best friend walking down the aisle. "I can so picture you walking down the aisle in this, holy shit."

Jihyo chuckles bashfully at your reaction.

"I'm going to be a bride," she says aloud, somewhat to herself and in a way announcing to the world too, before turning to you with a gleeful expression. "I'm going to be a bride!"

[04:45PM | cheol 💕] Are you done, sweetheart? I got to leave work earlier and just arrived at the place. Might come in since it's boiling outside 😅

"I really don't know about this𑁋"

"Come on, just try it on!" Jihyo nudges you ever so slightly to the fitting room, the dress trembling in your grasp. "This will be us doing some early preparations for your wedding, 'kay?"

Reluctantly, you find yourself stepping into the fitting room, the dress in your hands feeling both light and heavy at the same time. Taking a long, deep breath, you start to change into the dress as the consultant comes to your side to assist.

At first, the fabric feels odd against your skin, the delicate embroidery and soft tulle brushing against your shoulders as you put on the dress. The off-shoulder sleeves fit surprisingly snug when you slip them through your arms. The floral patterns seem to come alive right before your eyes, just like they had when you first saw the dress.

You take the first glance of yourself in the mirror in the fitting room, and it's almost as if you've been kicked in the gut and all the words had left you.

"Wow," You whisper to yourself, doing a small spin to see how the dress looks, and it feels absolutely magical to be the one wearing this dress right now.

Scrambling slightly, you look around your scattered belongings on the floor for your phone, knowing that you just have to capture this very moment before you would have to take the dress off.

But you can't find your phone anywhere.

"Crap, where did I put it?" You mumble annoyedly, having to move your dress around to get a better look, yet you still don't see it. Did you leave it outside? "Hey, Jihyo! If you're out there, can you pass me my phone?"

No response.

"Jihyo?"

Still no response.

Deflating your shoulders, you decide you might as well step outside to retrieve it.

"I didn't think the dress would fit this good. It's a bit heavier than I thought but I think I could manage𑁋"

And then you freeze, almost as if you were caught red-handed committing some sort of heinous crime, because Seungcheol is standing not that far away from you, eyes wide with disbelief and mouth dropped down to the floor at the sight of you wearing the wedding dress.

For a few moments, it's like the world stops as well, and you start to feel a little self-conscious under his gaze.

"Cheol? What are you..." Then you look down at yourself and the dress you were wearing. "You're here earlier than I-I thought, I should go change𑁋"

Seungcheol blinks back to reality from your words. "Wait, no, don't move, please."

He keeps his eyes locked on you, his gaze moving from your face, to the way the dress hugs and accentuates your figure in all the right ways, then back up again. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. You can't help but feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you stand there, awkwardly holding the hem of the dress in your sweaty hands.

You can hear your heart pounding in your chest. This is not how you imagined seeing Seungcheol after Jihyo's appointment. You were expecting a casual, friendly greeting, maybe a quick kiss, and then a drive home. But this... this is different. You've been with Seungcheol for years, but he's staring at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

"Wow, I..." He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly before placing his hands in his pockets. "You're fucking breathtaking, honey."

Your cheeks burn brighter than ever, some sort of choked sound leaving you at his bluntness. You glance down at the dress, then back at Seungcheol.

"You... You think so?" You ask, voice timid and tainted with unsureness.

"Think so?" he repeats, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I know so. I can't take my eyes off you."

A rush of heat climbs up your neck as you avert your eyes away, pretending to adjust the hem of the dress, fingers clumsily tugging at the material. The dress suddenly feels suffocatingly hot and you don't know how much more you can take.

His eyes still don't leave you even when he steps closer, the features of his face softening into simply an adoring look.

You could feel your feet melting into the ground below. "Cheol, I should really go change𑁋"

"Not yet," he says firmly, and you stay put. "Just let me look at you for a little longer, please?"

That familiar, pleading tone to his voice makes your heart run laps in your chest and causes your knees to feel like jelly. He takes a few more steps towards you, and before you know, he's standing right in front of you, half-lidded eyes flickering between yours and your lips. He takes a hand out of his pocket and reaches out to gently cup your face, letting a finger trace slowly over your cheek, leaning in just close enough to whisper in your ear.

"I can't wait to marry you."

His words come out so quiet that you're barely able to hear it. And before you can respond, some loud, marching footsteps snaps you out of thought.

"Y/N! Look at this, I found the perfect veil for you!" When Jihyo sees you and Seungcheol, she stops short in her tracks, glancing at the sight of you in the dress and Seungcheol standing in front of you appearing as if he was just two seconds away from kissing you.

You clear your throat loudly, stepping away from Seungcheol and towards Jihyo.

"You found a veil for me?" You ask her.

"Yeah, put it on!" Jihyo hands you the dainty veil. "I went through hell trying to find a good one and I think this one works perfectly."

You feel Seungcheol's eyes on you as you carry the veil towards the mirror and carefully place it over your head. The light, airy fabric showers down around you, complementing the elegant gown. As you adjust the veil to your liking, you catch a glimpse of your reflection and can't help but smile. You see Seungcheol in the mirror as well, staring at you with an intense gaze of admiration.

And when you turn around, Seungcheol thinks you look more beautiful than what his imagination could possibly give him. He has to bite at his bottom lip in order to suppress some of the giddiness threatening to spread throughout his body, and the thought of seeing you again in a wedding dress makes him almost dizzy.

You're like an angel who has stepped foot into his world. The dress houses your wings and the veil is your halo. It's a perfect vision of the future he’s been dreaming about for so long it nearly makes him burst; a reality that he never thought he'd be seeing so soon.

He's going to marry you𑁋he knows he will. He knew that from that moment you first smiled at him back in your freshman year English class, all because you both simply made unexpected eye contact while you were introducing yourself. He knew it even more when he embarrassingly fell on his ass during a university soccer game and your laugh was the only sound that he could hear.

This is his first peek of forever with you, and he can't wait for it to all come true.

Seungcheol faintly hears you ask what he thinks about it, and only the heavens know how much he wants to answer by putting that ring stashed in the depths of his bedside drawer on your finger right then and there. But there's a time and place for everything. He has to make sure everything is perfect first.

So, yeah, he should really get to planning. And right now seems like a good start.

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@totomoshi @armycarat2612 @etherealyoungk @maesvtr0 @gigification

[stunie]

“OH? NEED SOME HELP?”

WIND BREAKER + “HELPING” YOU OUT. ft. choji tomiyama, hayato suo, kaji ren, kiryu mitsuki, sakura haruka, togame jo, umemiya hajime, & sugishita kyotaro x f!reader

filled request: “Bofurin + Shishitoren guys with a gf who has a minor temporary injury that leaves her a little helpless and them realizing they find her helplessness kinda hot.”

mdni - suggestive; 3.1K wc. thank you for sending this in :> it’s been a while since i did lil hcs like this !! hope u enjoy nonnie <3

TOGAME JO.

Togame’s eyes are locked on your mouth.

Or more specifically, the way your pretty lips are currently wrapped around his ramune bottle, throat moving up and down with each gulp of soda that you swallow. It had been your idea to have him feed it to you like this, hold the bottle up to your lips as you sip, eyes gently fluttering shut to better savor the taste.

“I can’t really do anything with my hands in my current state.” He remembers you giggling before gesturing to his unopened ramune bottle. It was only 2 PM when you had asked this, but his entire day has been… challenging, to say the least. He’s spent nearly every minute helping you like this, never really realizing just how much you need your hands until you were back at his side every five minutes to ask for another favor.

And as if the world wanted to spite him, it started off with you asking him to brush your teeth. He had you seated on a stool, your mouth falling open in a lewd ‘o’ as he tilted your head and brushed them for you, but the thought of prying around inside your mouth already had him breathing hot and heavy. Not to the mention you had asked him to brush your tongue only a moment after, lolling it out with an ‘ahhh’ so he could apparently “reach it better.”

The ramune bottle was just the incident that happened to tip him right over the edge.

He’s suddenly hyper-aware of just how nice your lips look when they're pressed against the glass, and as soon you swallowed your first sip— confused and clueless eyes flickering to him when you noticed him staring— he felt himself gulp as well.

It doesn’t take him much longer to get carried away, his mind racing with all kinds of.. thoughts. He wonders if your lips would look any different if they were pressed against his dick instead of the glass. Or how’d your mouth would feel around him if he shot a load down your throat with your head hanging off the edge of the bed.

And you can’t use your hands…. so what’ll you do if he takes you against the wall? Would you just drape your arms over his shoulder and let him bully his cock into you over and over? You wouldn’t be able to clench your fists or even claw at his back. You’d just have to hang on and take it, wouldn’t you?

Choji’s words finally start to make sense to him.

It’s been nagging at him for a while now. He’d always get pulled out of his trance with a rough jab to his cheek, followed by Choji’s face emerging in front of him, grumbling something about “the way you look at her! You’re such a weirdo.”

He hadn’t really understood what he meant by that at first. He was just looking at his girl, wasn’t he? But when he’s watching the way you’re licking at the corners of your lips, whining about how some soda has started to drip down your chin, he thinks he gets what Choji meant now.

SAKURA HARUKA. cw food

“Thanks for helping me, Haru.”

You’re leaning forward with a little smile before your mouth parts open in a cheerful “ahhh,” watching the way Sakura’s shaky hand comes to feed you another spoonful of Lucky Charms. “O-of course. I said it was no problem.” He scoffs, a light dusting of red across his cheeks as soon as you’re taking a bite with a hum.

A part of him feels guilty for having these types of thoughts when he’s only feeding you some cereal. He’s been trying to get it all out of his head, trying to think of everything and anything that’ll get him soft, but it’s not working. It’s not leaving his mind. And as if his luck couldn’t get any worse, a bit of milk dribbles from the side of your mouth and you gasp loudly.

“Ah! Can you get that?”

You’re leaning in closer, and wait- was it even possible for you to be any closer? Your face is just a couple inches in front of his as you angle your head, gesturing for him to help. You’re way too close, way way too close for comfort, and oh- fuck.

There’s no napkin.

His thumb comes to swipe at your mouth before his mind even processes what he’s doing, finger pressing into your lip as you stare up at him with an unfamiliar look in your eyes. And oh… suddenly he’s keenly aware of how how you feel under his fingertip, how soft your lips feel against him, and the way you’re practically on your knees peering up at him like this..

It has his mind racing.

This sight of you— all helpless and confused, not a clue in the world about what he’s thinking about is just too much for him to handle. The thoughts he was so desperately trying to get rid of are storming back in his head with a newfound intensity the next second, and he knows it’s all over for him.

CHOJI TOMIYAMA.

“This is easy.” Choji smiles, bumping his back up into you with a huff to get a better grip on your thighs as he carries you home. He has you draped over his back, your arms wrapped around his neck as you try to hold back your sniffles. Probably twisted it, he had said, but he wasn’t gonna let something like this ruin your date night. He’s got your shoes in his bag, and.. it’s actually quite nice to have you this close to him.

It’s only about halfway home when he starts to notice it. particularly, the sound of your breathing against his ear.

Very sharp inhales and very shaky exhales.

It hurts, doesn’t it? he can tell just with one look at you. You’ve been biting your lip, tears brimming along your lashes as you try to ignore the pain. It’s a little hard for him to think of anything else with the way this feeling’s bubbling up inside him each time your breath fans right against the outer shell of his ear.

They sound so familiar, and he’s thinking hard. What was it again?

Was this how you sounded when he forces one last orgasm out of you? It’s close, he thinks, but not quite. Your chest is heaving up and down by that point. So maybe it’s when he teases you a little too much? Slowing down right before you reach your high? Yeah, that’s better. That’s when you start sniffling like this.

Choji’s suddenly much more aware of your presence- your body— he can vividly feel the way your tits are pressing up against his back, and he knows exactly how’d they look right now. Just this feeling against his back is enough to have him squeezing your thigh a little harder, jaw clenching just enough for you to not notice a thing.

Such a pretty girl can only rely on him to take you home, right? No one else?

He’s absolutely ecstatic at the fact.

HAYATO SUO.

You haven’t noticed him just yet.

Suo keeps his distance, watching the way you struggle to reach into your cabinet, groaning as you try and stretch just a couple more inches to grab that bowl. On a normal day, you could just go onto the tips of your toes and reach them, but with the way your right foot is all wrapped up, you can’t go much further than this.

He has to stifle a laugh when he hears a dramatic sigh followed a muttered curse under your breath, and he watches in amusement as you take a step back to just glare at the assortment of bowls lining your cabinet, hand coming to angrily rest on your hip as you shift your weight back on your good foot.

“So fuckin’ annoying,” he hears you grumble. “Why’s it so high in the first place?”

This would probably be a good time to help, suo thinks.

“You know, you could have asked me for help, love.” He whispers straight into your ear, hovering over your shoulder as his tassel earrings tickle the skin, and you violently jolt forward at the presence, head whipping around in a flash. “Hayato!? Y-you scared me..!”

He takes a step forward with a lighthearted chuckle, observant eyes immediately noticing the way your lips press into a nervous line when his arms fall beside you, caging you flush against the counter as you stumble backwards on your good foot. “You didn’t tell me you got hurt. What happened?”

You’re not looking at him anymore.

“Oh..” you mumble. “It’s kinda embarrassing, so I didn’t tell you.”

He’s silent, but his eyes are glued to your foot until you finally continue, voice coming out unsteady with how intense his gaze feels. “But since you’re here… that bowl,” you shyly point above you. “Can you get it? … Please?”

The silence has your heart racing. He has you pressed up close against the counter with nowhere to go, and he’s so awfully close. Staring too, and you can’t quite pinpoint the emotion in his eyes. Or eye.

It makes it even harder to tell what he’s thinking.

“Course I can help,” and you’re narrowing your eyes at the all too innocent smile that’s coming back to his face a second after, as if he didn’t just spent a good ten seconds staring at your foot with a weirdly stern look on his face.

You know Suo better than this, though. There’s usually a ‘but’ that’ll follow.

“But…” and there it is. “I’m a little curious. Let me take a look first.”

“You don’t need t—ah! Hayato?!” You squeal when he’s hooking his hand under your knee, your arms immediately slamming onto the countertop to catch yourself as he lifts your leg up. “—The hell are you doing?”

Suo kneels down with a soft smile, a stark contrast to the firm grip he’s got around your leg as he lifts it up even higher, content with the way the back of your hand has come to nervously cover your mouth.

“Just taking a look at your injury, love.” He peers up at you through half lidded eyes, watching your every reaction— and the way you’re looking at him with those shocked eyes is just endearing.

“Why? Are you having other ideas?”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. reader described as having soft skin, also asks ume once if you’re heavy (you’re not).

“Carry you? Of course I can! How do you want it?”

Umemiya’s practically bouncing up and down at the request, eager to hear that you’re finally ready to be moving around the house again. You’ve barely been up since your injury, only movement being the occasional stumble to use the restroom, and he’s been worried sick over it.

“Um...” your voice trails off a bit, eyebrows deeply furrowed in embarrassment. “You have to carry me over your shoulder. It’ll put less strain on it.”

He’s nodding right away, leaning down with an enthusiastic smile as he hoists you over his shoulder the next instant— laughter erupting from his chest when he hears you gasp, but he doesn't miss the way your ass jiggles a bit when you wiggle in his hold.

Actually...his eyes widen a bit. Are those shorts new? He’s never seen them before. They’re really.. short.

So short that he can see about a quarter of your ass like this, the skin peeking out from underneath the fabric, even more so because they’ve hiked further up when he tossed you over his shoulder.

His gaze shifts down a bit, and he starts to notice how good your thighs look when they’re flush against his chest like this. He can tell they're soft, but that’s not really a surprise to him. Your skin has always always soft— he knows this because he's used your lotions now and then. They always make him feel ten times softer himself.

Not that you need to know.

“A-am i heavy? Why aren't you moving?” The unsteadiness in your voice doesn't help his situation much. There’s a little noise of exertion, one too close to a moan that slips from your mouth when you try to push at his shoulders to crane your neck and see what's wrong. “..Haji?”

“You’re not heavy at all, silly.” He laughs, ignoring the way his pants suddenly feel tight. “Don’t worry about it.”

SUGISHITA KYOTARO.

“Glaring at it won’t make it go away, Kyo.” You giggle, hands coming to gently pat at Sugishita’s head. He’s got you propped up on your bathroom counter, one of his knees on the floor as he rests your injured ankle on top of it.

There’s a huff from your boyfriend, scowl deeper than ever as he focuses on squeezing some of your cooling gel onto his finger, making undoubtedly sure he’s only squeezing the exact amount you needed. “Stay still.”

He’s gentle when he applies the gel, scowl contorting to display a hint of sadness and worry when you flinch at the contact, but you’re relaxing into his touch as soon as the gel starts to numb your skin, sighing at the feather-light touches running up and down your ankle.

Sugishita’s gaze flickers to you as soon as he sees that your eyes have flutter shut, head tilting back to sigh at his touch. It makes him think. he’s rubbing at your skin, situated right between your legs, and you’re…breathing loudly. Very loudly. With your head tilted back.

And if you just glanced back down at him… your mouth would be parted in a little ‘o’ right? The same way you look at him just before he’s about to eat you out?

Oh.

“…Kyo?” the sound soft of your voice pulls him right out of his thoughts, and his head is jerking back to you. You are, as a matter of fact, glancing right down at him with those innocent eyes of yours. He can tell you don’t have a single clue about the thoughts whirling around in his head, even though you’ve got a 6’3 man sitting right between your legs staring at you with the hungriest look you’ve ever seen in your life.

KIRYU MITSUKI.

“Suki..?” Your voice comes out as a shaky whisper, and your boyfriend stirs a bit from where he’s seated on his bed, arms wrapped loosely around your waist as you rest your head on his shoulder. “Mm….yes, pretty?”

“‘M scared.” You tighten your embrace around him. “I don’t wanna fall asleep and move … and accidentally fuck up my back even more. It hurts.”

You exhale shakily when his hand comes to massage gentle circles along your back, skipping over the area you’ve strained earlier that week. “Aww,” he coos, tired eyes locking with yours before he’s leaning forward to pepper kisses along your shoulder. “Hmmm…”

“Let’s see….” he humming in thought, gentle vibrations of his voice soothing your nerves a bit. “Then let’s do this. Don’t make any sudden movements, ‘kay?”

You nod.

He’s shifting the next second, laying his head on his pillow with a soft grunt as he pulls you on top of him, your thighs straddling his hips as you move to hug him again. Kiryu’s careful, gentle when he adjusts a bit so you can better wrap your arms around his body and get comfortable without your back flaring up again.

“Better? Hug me just like this.” His arms wrap around your waist, cautious of the area you’ve hurt. “And you won’t be budging in your sleep. Right? We’re stuck together.”

“Now close your eyes, love. I’m right here.”

KAJI REN.

“S-sorry for making you carry me back,” you stammer, both hands holding a fistful of kaji’s shirt as he carries you bridal style. You can hear his teeth nervously biting down on the hard candy, and you can hear the sound of his music blasting in his ears even clearer.

He seems to have noticed you speaking regardless, eyebrows furrowing a bit as he tries to read your lips. It was something he’s improved on since meeting you, but he can only read your lips. He’s only tried reading yours, anyways. There would be no point in his headphones if he could understand other people’s words.

You were the sole exception.

There’s no response from him, but you’re not surprised, because Kaji never talks to you when his headphones are in. Not again, never again after Kusumi showed him a video of just how loud his voice gets when he yells over his music.

he wouldn’t want to risk scaring you with the sound.

A quick nod is all he gives you, eyes shifting to the side to mask the heat spreading up his cheeks. You’re already too damn cute for your own good, and it’s not helping with the way you’re not looking away from him.

Why are you staring so hard in the first place?

He wants to tell you to quit doing that, maybe quiet you down with a lollipop because he can still see your mouth moving in his peripheral vision… but he won’t.

Because he doesn’t have an excuse to why he’s blushing so hard. It was obvious. He has you right in his arms, completely helpless and depending on him to get you home… how else would he act in this state? Kaji wonders for a moment if you can hear the wild thumping of his heart, or maybe hear the unsteadiness in his breathing.. god, he sure hoped not.

Your eyes widen a bit when you notice his face suddenly contorting to a scowl, your words fading into a confused hum. Did you do something?

You’re immediately whipping out your phone from your front pocket, ignoring the way Kaji’s glare is still burning a hole into the street beside him, scowl worsening with each passing second.

“Kusumi…” you type out. “He looks really mad all of a sudden.”

The typing bubble under his name pops up only a second later, and you tilt your phone a bit to hide your screen in the rare chance that Kaji does finally look back at you.

your eyes scan over the text that follows.

Kusumi: He’s probably just blushing. We made him carry you for a reason. Wrap your arms around his neck and see for yourself !!

[rafecameronssl4t]

Bold move bestie || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader (love island au)

Summary: The new bombshell turns out to be a familiar face who ends up backstabbing you

Warnings: angst???

Word count: 1,604

A/n: if u get the Nakia reference from s5 of love island AUS i love you!!!!

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

You squint, lifting your sunglasses, the sun glaring as you get a better look at the new bombshell strolling into the villa. For a moment, you can’t quite place her—until she tosses her hair back and flashes that familiar, confident smile. Recognition flickers in your mind, and you mutter, “Oh my god, I know her.”

Beside you, Sofia shoots you a puzzled glance. “What?” “Yeah, I know her.” You chuckle, still in mild disbelief, as the rest of the girls perk up, curiosity sparking in their eyes. They lean over the railing, vying for a better view, murmuring amongst themselves as they try to gauge the new girl’s energy.

Leah nudges you, her eyebrows raised. “How do you know her?” You watch as she heads straight for Rafe, her face lighting up as he extends his arms, pulling her into a hug that feels just a bit too friendly. A part of you twists at the sight, but you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity.

“She’s my little sister’s best friend,” you say, shaking your head as you try to process it. “I haven’t seen her in ages, and now… here she is. This is crazy.” The girls’ jaws drop in unison, their reactions blending into a mix of disbelief and fascination. “This just got interesting,” Sofia whispers with a smirk, watching you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

After the guys finish their round of introductions with the new girl, the girls gather, eager to get their turn. As you walk past the boys, Rafe reaches out, gently pulling you to his side. His arm wraps around your waist, his touch grounding you amidst the flurry of excitement. Leaning down, he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, lingering just long enough to make you feel the warmth of his affection.

“You good?” he murmurs, his voice low, a reassuring smile playing on his lips as he holds you close. His intense gaze locks onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you seems to quiet. You nod, a smile tugging at your lips as butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach.

“Mhm, I’m good,” you reply, the words barely a whisper, but the way he looks at you makes you feel seen, as if it’s just the two of you here. Rafe’s hand lingers on your waist for a second longer before he finally lets you go, and you join the other girls, feeling a warmth that his gaze has left behind.

“Hey, you!” you squeal, rushing over and pulling Savannah into a tight hug. She squeals back, her arms wrapping around you just as enthusiastically, clearly as relieved as you are to see a familiar face in the villa. “How are you? It’s crazy you’re here!” you laugh, leaning back to get a better look at her, still not quite believing it yourself.

“I know, right?” she laughs, glancing around the villa with wide eyes. “It doesn’t even feel real that I’m actually here.” You smile at her, a warm fondness bubbling up as you take in the younger girl, who you remember being inseparable from your sister.

Later that night, you and Savannah sit side by side at the vanity, makeup wipes and moisturiser scattered around as you both unwind. The villa’s quiet now, save for the faint hum of music from the lounge. Savannah catches your eye in the mirror, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

“So… you and Rafe, huh?” she teases, her voice lilting with curiosity as she wiggles her eyebrows. You can’t help but laugh, cheeks warming as you crack a smile. “Yeah,” you admit, feeling a little rush of excitement just thinking about him. “We’re doing really good, like… really good.”

The words leave your lips in a happy giggle, your mind drifting to the way he looks at you, his arm around you earlier, that soft kiss on your forehead. Savannah laughs, nudging you with her shoulder. “I knew something was up when he kept looking over at you during the fire pit. You two are cute.”

~

The next day, news spreads that Savannah’s chosen three guys for her speed dates, and you can’t help but laugh when you hear Rafe’s name among them. It doesn’t surprise you, and honestly, it doesn’t bother you either. Savannah had mentioned after she choosing that she’d only picked guys she hadn’t had much chance to talk to yet—Rafe included.

That night, the fire pit glows in the dim villa light, casting shadows as Savannah stands up to make her choice. You watch with calm curiosity—until her eyes sweep across the boys and her voice rings out clearly, “Rafe.” For a moment, you’re stunned.

You blink, trying to process it, a mix of surprise and disbelief churning in your stomach. “Did she just say Rafe’s name, or am I hearing things?” you murmur to Jacob, who looks just as taken aback. Your gaze snaps to Savannah, and she can’t even meet your eyes, her gaze glued to the ground.

After the re-coupling, Rafe doesn’t waste a second. He’s by your side, pulling you into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around you as his hand rubs soothing circles on your back. You can feel the tension in his hold, as if he’s silently reassuring you, but it’s not enough to ease the fire simmering in your chest.

“Where is she?” you say, pulling back from his embrace, not even trying to hide the spark of anger in your voice. Rafe hesitates, his eyes flicking toward the kitchen. “Uh—” “Oh, there she is,” you mutter, already spotting Savannah standing by the counter, looking noticeably tense. Before Rafe can stop you, you’re striding across the villa, making a beeline for her. The air thickens as the others watch, heads turning to follow your approach.

“Bold move, bestie,” you say as you near her, the words laced with a hard edge despite the tight smile on your lips. Savannah turns around, visibly caught off guard, her expression a mix of guilt and hesitation as she struggles to find her words. “I… I didn’t mean to—” “Didn’t mean to?” you cut her off, your smile vanishing as your gaze hardens. Arms crossed, you keep your eyes locked on her, unflinching. “So picking my guy was just an accident, then?”

Savannah opens her mouth, but you can tell she’s struggling for an answer, clearly realising this was more complicated than she’d anticipated. The tension between you both crackles, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see Rafe standing back, watching, concern etched into his features as the entire villa waits to see what will happen next.

“You know what pisses me off the most, Sav?” Your voice grows louder, your words slicing through the quiet tension in the villa. “It’s the fact that you knew exactly where I stood with him. You knew, and you didn’t even think to pull me for a chat before making that decision.”

Your heart pounds as you feel the full weight of betrayal settling in, anger coursing through your veins. Savannah meets your gaze, her expression hardening as she crosses her arms defensively. “Look, this isn’t friend island, okay?” she fires back, her tone sharp and unapologetic.

A scoff escapes your lips, quickly morphing into bitter laughter. “Wow. Really, Sav?” You shake your head, the sting of her words cutting deeper than you’d thought possible. “You didn’t stop to consider just how backstabbing this move was?” You pause, searching her face for any hint of remorse, but find none. “There’s a way to go about things if you actually care about people, you know?”

Savannah’s eyes flicker, but her defiance doesn’t waver, and it only fuels the anger simmering inside you. “I’m here to find a connection, same as you. I have a right to explore that.” The words hit hard, and for a moment, you’re speechless, glancing over at Rafe, who’s standing just a few steps away, watching with concern etched into his face.

But even his presence can’t cool the heat of Savannah’s words. You feel a heavy mixture of anger and disappointment, the hurt sinking in deeper as you realise just how far she was willing to go. But you actually think you have a connection with Rafe?” You point back at him, disbelief dripping from your voice as you look at Savannah.

The scoff escapes before you can stop it, your frustration bubbling over as you try to process the idea. The thought that she’d risk your friendship for something so shallow feels like a slap to the face. Savannah’s jaw tightens, but she tries to hold her composure. “Maybe I do,” she says defensively, her voice growing colder. “Or maybe I just wanted the chance to find out without everyone breathing down my neck.”

You shake your head, unable to hide the bitterness. “You knew how I felt about him, Sav. I get that we’re here for love, but… I didn’t think you’d throw our friendship aside to ‘find out’ if there’s something with my guy.” Her gaze falters for a split second before she steels herself, lifting her chin. “I don’t owe anyone an apology for making a choice for myself,” she snaps.

You take a steadying breath, the weight of the tension thick around you as hurt and anger mix into something sharper. “Don’t come running to me when you realise there’s nothing between you and him,” you say, voice cold and unwavering.

Savannah’s lips part, shock flashing across her face as your words land. But you don’t wait for her response. Without another glance, you turn on your heel and walk away, leaving her standing in stunned silence.

[utterlyazriel]

let me keep you company

a/n: a wee break from the doom & gloom of wtssf! it's unedited so i want no flack for that thank u <3 enjoy <3 wc: 5.1k whoops synopsis: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

For the record, you had never met a Shadowsinger before.

You'd never even seen one. Sure, you’d read about them briefly in your studies and almost every Fae in Prythian had heard about them in whispers and rumours.

Rumours that increased more so when a Shadowsinger rose to become a hand for the Highlord, his own personal spy. Then became the spymaster of the entire Night Court for the next Highlord.

But beyond gossip and unfinished chapters within the scripts of your libraries, the knowledge of Shadowsingers is far limited. They’re rare. For all you know, Shadowsinger’s are a ghost— moving as a shadow, disappearing in and out of the darkness of the world.

You had never met a Shadowsinger before—so it makes sense that you hadn't an ounce of a clue what to expect.

Staring at him now, 6 feet something of pure muscle, you're a bit embarrassed at your own surprise.

Because he's probably— no definitely— the most beautiful Fae you've ever laid eyes on. His hair is tousled and dark, his glorious tan skin that's mostly hidden beneath the black of his fighter leathers, and his amber eyes that laid on you for only one long moment. Breathtaking is the only adequate word for him.

All that beauty and he's a Shadowsinger.

And it's not like you thought he wouldn't be like, well, any other Fae. But also... you kinda did? Mother, you should've known Freya was tricking you when she said they were all just shadow-y corporeal forms.

But she's also not entirely wrong there. There are dozens of wispy shadows that hover around him in constant motion, dipping and flying around his shoulders and if you look close enough, you can see how he seems to ripple at the edges. Shadows blur the edge of his very being.

You wonder if he can disappear into them all together, if that was one of the abilities granted with them. Does he control them? He must, you think, if the title is Shadowsinger.

But looking at him now, his beautiful face turned to face the Highlord you should definitely be listening to, they flit about almost absentmindedly, as though they have a mind of their own.

One curls up by his ear and you watch it, fascinated, more and more questions springing up in your mind— what do they feel like on skin? Do they make any noise? Is that what they're doing now? Talking to—

A sharp elbow jabs into your side, making you jump.

Your head whips to the side, an instinctive scowl almost overtaking your face before you plaster it over with a smile, realising your mistake. Your mentor, Sergei, clears his throat and smiles awkwardly ahead at Rhysand. You blink and take another moment to realise you've been asked a question.

"I'm— I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" You try not to sound as mousy as you feel but the question comes out as a squeak anyway. He is the Highlord of the Night Court after all. You suddenly feel very foolish for being so easily distracted.

Thankfully, Rhysand regards you with an easy smile. He's leaned back in his chair, relaxed, and his violet eyes dance with humour as he flicks his gaze over to where you had just been staring.

"That's alright. Azriel is a piece of eye candy, I can't blame you for staring," He all but purrs, a hint of mirth pulling at his lips as he casts another glance at his Spymaster. You're taken aback by the casualness of his words.

Rhysand continues. "I was only saying that for the duration of your stay, you'll be hosted in one of my homes, the House of Wind. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"

A smidge of fear pinches at your stomach because, honestly, you aren't overly keen on the idea. But you know better than to turn down the generosity of a Highlord.

You take another glance at the wings of his Spymaster and General and pray that it's not too high up.

"Not... much." You answer honestly.

There's a chuckle from the side of the room and your head swings around at the noise. It's not the Shadowsinger, though he looks as though he's politely trying not to smile, his chin ducked. It's the General, just as beautiful as his brother but in that more rugged way.

He flexes his wings out a bit, showing off their mighty wingspan. "We'll rid you of that fear in no time."

You try for a smile but it might be closer to a grimace.

"Fantastic." You say, not managing to put all your enthusiasm into the word like you hoped.

Another sharp jab of Sergei's elbow in your side. The Shadowsinger, Azriel, huffs a quiet laugh, his amber eyes flashing up to steal another look at you. You try your best not to fluster.

It's going to be a long two months.

—

As Sergei's apprentice, you're expected to shadow him through his allowed time within Velaris.

Which means if he goes to the library, you go to the library.

There's just one problem; the library is down in the city and your temporary home is up in the mountain. The quickest way down is with wings.

Rhysand— or just Rhys as he had told you to call him— had relayed the information that you could ask either Cassian or Azriel to escort you if you didn't wish to take the stairs.

Cassian, the General, had been the one to fly you down and back the first couple of times you had asked and you weren't in any particular hurry to relive the experience.

Cassian was nice and he was more than friendly but seemingly incapable of understanding any fear of heights. You weren't sure if that was just the only way to fly— swooping and dropping fast enough to make you shriek— but it certainly seemed to be Cassian's way.

Which leaves you with the option of either asking the Shadowsinger or taking the stairs.

You get down about two hundred steps before you start to regret your decision. But, also, how in the Cauldron were you supposed to ask him to take you? (Never mind that you had asked Cassian quite easily, albeit very nervously.)

Oh, hi Shadowsinger who I can't stop staring at for both your abilities and your handsome face—care to sweep me into your arms and carry me places?

As if, you snort to yourself.

You take the thousand stairs all the way to the bottom and trot towards the enormous library, pretending your thighs aren't aching with overuse or that you're out of breath. Thankfully, the library itself isn't too far from the House of Wind, carved into the same side of the mountain.

As expected, Sergei is less than pleased with your tardiness.

"Sorry," The word rushes out of you in a wheeze, probably too loud for the library, as you scuttle in the entrance. A few priestesses turn their heads to look at you and you cringe, raising your hands in apology. "Sorry, I'm sorry,"

You focus back on your mentor and try to catch your breath, all while you explain. "I took the stairs and it took—" You huff out a breath. "—way longer than I thought."

Sergei's face softens a bit at your explanation, his face taking on a pitiful smile. "Still not enjoying the flying?"

"You are?" You ask in response. The thought of Sergei, your old-Fae mentor, swept up in Cassian's arms as he dips and dives makes you chuckle just a bit.

Sergei shakes his head as if to change the topic of conversation, deciding you've wasted enough time already. He turns, beginning to head further into the library and you follow behind him closely, eager to brush over your early morning fumble. The cavernous structure within the mountain yawns out ahead of you and you get all of two moments to wonder just how deep down it goes, when—

"You did not ask for a ride this morning."

Azriel steps up beside you, seemingly from nowhere, his steps falling in time with yours with ease. You jump, startled, and your footsteps falter for a moment. You're relieved to say that you only make one embarrassing noise in your surprise.

"I— oh, it's— I mean, I just..." You trail off, feeling flustered. "...like to walk."

You chance a glance up at him. He's wearing that same polite expression from yesterday, as though he's trying not to laugh and you get too caught up in the swirlings of his shadows to remember to be properly embarrassed. Both of you walk in tandem behind Sergei, slowly descending into the lower levels of the library.

"If you insist," He says, his voice low. It sends something warm down your spine and you pray he doesn't notice how your body temperature is definitely climbing.

His amber eyes pin you with another look, his lips twitching into a small smile. "However, if Cassian is giving you trouble, I would be happy to provide a smoother ride."

You flounder for a moment. You don't want to get anyone in trouble.

"I— he's not giving me trouble," You stammer.

Azriel smiles a little wider as if he can tell how polite you're trying to be. He slows to a meander and you realise only after you walk past him, it's because Sergei has stopped himself, turning down one of the many aisles.

You skid yourself to a halt and turn back, praying your flaming face isn't as obvious as it feels. You're not entirely sure if Azriel is accompanying you today but you're sure that Sergei would've mentioned it if he was.

You dip your head in a strange, awkward bow motion. Then point to the aisle Sergei disappeared into.

"I'll be... going this way."

Azriel's smile grows, like you've told a joke, and he ducks his head. He peers up at you through his dark lashes and you wonder if anyone's ever told him how damn beautiful he is. Probably. You're probably the last in a long line of people. Mother, his eyes though.

"If you don't wish to make the hike the other way," He murmurs.

He extends one of his hands and you watch the dozen shadows swarm around it, one of them separating from the pack to dive to the ground. It shoots forward and spins around your ankle, almost happily. "Just let the shadow know. I would be happy to assist."

When you look back up, he’s already gone without a sound. You try not to look so surprised— you’ve seen someone winnow before but you’re almost certain that the way Azriel moved about silently was something else altogether.

“Y/n!” Sergei’s voice echoes down the shelves, reminding you that you’re still late. You throw a quick glance around to check but it's fruitless; you can’t see the Shadowsinger anywhere.

You turn and bustle down the aisle quickly, not wanting to keep Sergei any longer. It takes only a second to notice the sole, black shadow that dances along behind you.

Guess you have company.

—

Okay, so, the shadows are definitely their own little guys.

Mainly because you can’t imagine how Azriel would be controlling them when he’s nowhere in sight.

And this one shadow is being awfully helpful.

The first time you drop your quill, knocking it to the ground as you lean over one of the many intricately carved desks, trying to reach another book, you don’t even notice it fall to the ground.

In fact, you have no idea how many times it’s picked up your fallen quill that you’ve undoubtedly knocked over countless times— only that it had given you the fright of your life to have it hover before your face, gripped only by the wispy shadow Azriel left with you.

“Holy shit!” You gasp, your loud voice echoing in the quietness of the library.

Sergei's head whips up, his eyes narrowing at the intruding sound with evident disapproval. You quickly snatch the quill out of mid-air and sink down in your seat. Gods, the echoes in here were doing you no favours.

“Sorry,” You whisper. Your eyes dart down to the shadow that retreated to your side, flickering around your ankle more wildly. “Er, thanks.”

It feels a bit silly to give thanks to something you’re not sure can hear you. But you figure if it can pick up your quill, you're better off using your manners.

Sergei gives you a somewhat bewildered look and you try to appease him with an awkward smile. It works enough for him to continue his work but not without one more lingering glance of worry in your direction. Great. You're talking to shadows and your old-man mentor thinks you're a bit nuts.

The shadow continues its helpful endeavours, following you when you head down different aisles at Sergei's request. It dances across the shelves, dissolving occasionally just to puff back up somewhere else, pulling your attention this way and that. It's playful. Friendly.

You deduce by the end of the day that you know even less about Shadowsinger's than you had thought. The abilities and personality of just one shadow are uncanny; like a silent friend keeping you company. You imagine that Azriel rarely gets lonely with as many as he has. Maybe you'll ask him.

When Sergei and you wind back up the staircases and he dismisses you for the evening, heading into the city for his own further business, you stand at the mouth of the library and ponder if you'll be brave enough to summon the Shadowsinger.

The shadow is still with you, circling your wrist absently. You peer down at it and think of all those stairs. Somewhat nervously, you raise your hand and try to be as casual as possible about talking to a shadow on your hand.

"Hi." You start, trying not to feel foolish. "Um, well, I guess I'm done for the day. Could— could you, if he's not busy that is, uh, let Azriel know? I don't mind waiting if he is."

The shadow zips off barely before you can finish your sentence and your head swings to watch it go, disappearing somewhere to your left.

You can't help but be a little amazed at its speed—it must be an incredible networking system to have a thousand little spies running around for you. No wonder almost all Shadowsingers tend to end up in the same line of work, you think to yourself, still peering in the direction of the shadow when—

"Y/n."

Even though he's said your name soft and quiet, Azriel still manages to take you by surprise. You jump and turn, all in one motion.

"Mother!" Your hand holds over your chest, relief curling in at the sides as your fright ebbs away. "That was fast."

"You called," Azriel responds, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. He gives you an almost shy smile.

It makes you fluster a bit and you gesture to the exit awkwardly and wordlessly, if only so you don't have to come up with a response to his intense and endearing answer.

Together, you wander out from the library and creep towards the edge of Velaris. It's a beautiful city and more than deserving of its title, especially when viewed from the House of Wind. You turn and cast your eyes up the mountainside, your familiar nervous fear pitching up from your stomach.

Then you look at the warrior beside you, tall enough that he's got what feels like more than a head's height on you, with his wings reaching above even his own head. His jaw is sharp and his eyes are already on you as your gaze trails up his face. Fuck. He's really pretty.

Now you're nervous for an entirely different reason.

"We can still take the stairs if you wish," He says, his hand sweeping back to the path you had followed along this morning. His shadows move with his hands, a black vortex that whirls around and around. "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."

Mother, he's not helping you in the slightest, being so perfectly nice to you. You regard the stairs and think back to how many hours it took before your thighs stopped aching—and that was on the way down.

"No, we can- we can try flying again." You say, nodding to yourself as if it'll help quell your fear. It takes another moment to realise that means you'll be bundled up in his strong arms, held against his broad chest and you feel a little shiver run through your body at the thought.

Azriel notices it too, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. "You're sure?" He checks.

You nod, not meeting his eyes, trying to keep your nerve. Flying is already something you're not keen on. Flying whilst being swept up in the arms of a Shadowsinger who you think is the most beautiful Fae you've ever seen? You send a silent prayer to the Mother that you don't do something embarrassing, like puking down his front.

"Let me know if you're uncomfortable at any time," He says softly and then he bends his knees slightly, one of his scarred hands resting on your lower back as the other scoops beneath your knees. He lifts you as though you weigh nothing.

It's impossible not to flush as you get nestled against his firm chest, your hands panicking for a moment as you try to think of a normal place to put them. Around his neck? On his chest? Either of them feels far too intimate for a man you've known only a week.

"You don't have to but I would suggest holding on," Azriel comments with a smile, his chest vibrating with the words. You nod, agreeing with him, but don't make a move to do so, only holding your hands out in front of you to indicate you're not sure where to put them.

The shadows adorning his shoulders move on their own, their friendly presence easing your nerves as they slither down to circle around your wrists. There's a gentle tug and you let them move your hands til they're wrapped around Azriel's neck, moving you much closer in the process.

Gods, your faces are close together. Another couple of inches and you could probably press your lips to his perfect ones—a thought that makes you fluster all over again. Was he getting prettier every time you saw him? For not the first time, you thank the Mother that it was Rhys with the daemaeti gift and not Azriel.

"Ready?" He checks, which is sweet. Cassian had just shot up into the sky the first time, without any warning.

You grip your arms around his neck a little tighter and then nod. "Ready," You say, quieter than intended.

You catch just a moment of Azriel's demure smile, your heart swooping at the sight, before you're both launched into the sky with one flap of his wings.

The noise that escapes you is one you're less than proud of, a squawky sound noise of panic that you bury into Azriel's neck. You expect him to laugh like Cassian had, not meanly but playfully, but instead Azriel's arms just tighten around you. As if he was assuring you that he would not let you fall.

By the time you're up at the House of Wind, Azriel making a far more graceful descent than his brother, you're less freaked out and more ready to point some accusatory fingers in the face of the Night Court's General.

That bastard had been fucking with you! The flight with Azriel proved as much, considering how much calmer and smoother it had been. You couldn't help but say as much as you were placed down from Azriel's hold, glad to be back on solid ground.

"I have some words for Cassian, Mother above," You ramble, straightening out your rumpled clothes from the flight. "Did he think I was kidding when I said I was afraid?"

Azriel smiles at your fieriness, his shadows calmer than they were in flight, moving about lazily. His eyes take a fleeting glance at the house behind you before focusing intently back on you.

"Cassian can have a strange sense of humour at times. He means well." He says. Then he grins. "I should like to see you tell him off— not enough people do."

You hmph. "Maybe I will."

You suddenly realise the closeness between you and Azriel, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. His scent of cedar and mist swirls around you, tantalizing and alluring in a way you've never known before. You take a step back to contain yourself.

"I—uh, well, thank you very much." You say, as sweet as you can. "For the ride."

Your eyes catch on one of his dozen shadows and you smile, observing them for a moment. "And the shadow. It was excellent company."

Azriel brightens, an expression of surprise crossing his face before he schools it away. He smiles, brazen and breathtaking. When he speaks, he sounds a little disbelieving. "You like them?"

You nod quickly, noticing how one of his shadows has snuck off again and circulates your ankle speedily. You laugh at the ticklish feeling of it against your skin.

"They're incredible." You breathe, meaning every word. "I imagine you must've ge—"

"Apologies, y/n." A smooth voice cuts in, Rhys stepping up somewhere behind you and stealing both of your attention. He dressed in more casual clothes than you last saw, but not quite Azriel's fighting leathers. "Azriel here is needed for some brief business. Do you mind if I borrow him?"

The way he poses the question, as if Azriel is yours, does something wonky to your heart. You flounder for a moment, stepping back and waving your hand in the direction of the Shadowsinger.

"Of- of course, by all means." You trip over the words and hope you don't sound too eager to escape his company. That couldn't be more untrue.

You turn back to Azriel and fix him with a smile, hoping it's not as nervous as you feel. "I'll... see you around?"

Azriel steals a glance to the side where Rhys awaits before he nods with another reserved smile. Hold on, is that pink on his cheeks?

"Let me know if you need any more help getting to and from the library. I'd be happy to assist."

And then with a quick nod to you, he walks off to join Rhys, his wings tucked in tight, careful to not nudge you. You watch them go, unable to stop yourself from letting your eyes wander down. Damn, all that training did wonders. What was that saying? Hate to watch 'em go, love to watch them leave.

Ahead, Rhys abruptly laughs and peers back over his shoulder, letting you exactly how well you had shielded those thoughts. You flush and scurry into the house as if it'll save you from the embarrassment of what's just happened. You only hope he won't pass the message on to Azriel.

—

It continues like that for the rest of the week.

Azriel carries you down the height of the mountain and leaves you with a promise that if you need anything, you can tell the shadow and he'll come to find you.

The shadow keeps its usual playful company. Beyond retrieving your dropped quills, it helpfully turns the pages of books for you. When you're focused on what you're writing, it nudges back any loose strands of hair. Once it even brings you a flower from Mother knows where. One single Lily of the Valley, left resting on your desk.

It makes you wonder; are all Shadowsinger's shadows like this? You can't help but imagine these niceties are shaped by Azriel's own soft nature.

Today, whilst you study in the vast caverns of the library, you get an unexpected visitor.

As you take your time scanning through the books in one of the vast aisles, you realise the Fae coming down from the other end of the aisle is none other than the Highlady herself.

"Feyre!" You greet warmly. The two of you had met before when she had taken duties in your home court and if it weren't too bold, you'd say you consider yourself good friends. Feyre smiles, glowing like moonlight, as she realises who it is.

"Y/n," She says your name sweetly and her hug is just as such. She pulls away, ready to inquire about your studies when she spots the trailing shadow behind you.

"Making friends, I see," She comments. Her eyebrows raise almost teasingly as if she's made a certain insinuation. You take a moment to notice what she's referencing.

"It's nice," You say, a defensive lilt to your tone. You hold out your hand and the shadow jumps at the opportunity to skitter around it playfully. "It's like a little friend."

Feyre smiles at your words but chuckles a little. "Except Azriel is anything but little."

You pause at her words, glancing down at the shadow and back up at Feyre. "What do you mean? I thought— they're not- I mean, aren't they...?”

You trail off, unsure of how to word the question you're trying to ask. Feyre smiles, her gray eyes glittering with mirth as she realises what you're figuring out.

"They're all his. Azriel's. He controls them." She tilts her head a bit, watching the shadow that drifts about your hand and wrist. "True, they roam a bit on their own but... Not like this."

"Oh," You murmur, thinking back to that first day in the library.

The playful shadow that lead you back and forth, picking up your quill and turning your pages. It was him, all along.

Something immeasurably warm starts to glow in your chest, a thread that loops through your heart and sends the valves into overdrive. Its warmth grows, something molten hot beginning to bleed in your chest— and it feels wonderful. It feels right.

"Oh," You gasp as you figure it out.

Feyre grins, watching you piece together what the rest of the inner circle has clued together from the very first day. She stands to the side and gestures to the entrance of the library with a tilt of her head.

"Go on then," She urges you.

For a moment, you think back to Sergei who sent you hunting for a certain manuscript Cauldron knows how long ago but the thought is washed away in an instant. You can feel it now, the strong tug in your chest. The connection that binds you to another.

You stride past Feyre, giving a quick thanks! and all but run up the spiral staircases, heading for the entrance. The shadow pings along with you and as you near the top, you look down at it and say through huffed breaths, "You better go get him."

He's waiting by the time you get there.

Against the setting sun, for a moment there's only the silhouette of him— a warrior with tall wings, the edges of him rippling like a mirage. He might just be one; an oasis in your life, the answer that you've been searching for for centuries. You can't believe you didn't notice.

Your footsteps echo on the marble as you march right up to him and Azriel watches you closely the whole time, his amber eyes soft but his expression hinting at his nervousness. Gods, he's wonderful. You can't believe he gets to be yours and you get to be his.

"How long have you known?" You ask because it's the first thing on your mind. You're nearly panting from the exhilaration of your sudden exercise, from the dawning future that's blooming right in front of you. He's your mate. Gods, how could you have missed it?

Azriel smiles, that same tentative one that's been driving you crazy all week. His wings give a little shake behind him, a giveaway of his nerves.

"I... suspected from the beginning." He chooses his words carefully, wary of how you might respond.

You can't help your little gasp, feeling even more of a fool. You curse, ducking your head before you glare back up at him, no real heat in your gaze. You have the urge to give him a little shove, just for keeping you in the dark.

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

One of his shadows spins up unexpectedly, dancing across your shoulders and tickling your cheeks gently. You startle in surprise but something sweeter curls up in your chest at the tenderness of its touch.

"Believe me," Azriel says with a quiet chuckle, his amber eyes darting over your face intensely. "I've been trying."

You melt. Eyes locked with his, you move slowly, letting your arms drift up to drape around his neck like they've done every morning and evening since he began flying you around. You realise acutely that Cassian's behaviour, his shoddy flying, had likely been on purpose. You laugh a little, eyes creasing shut in pure euphoria.

Azriel's hands find your waist and you can feel the slight tremble in them.

"In my defense," You murmur, pushing up on your toes. You're close, so close, your lips hovering just an inch from a kiss—his shadows go wild around you both. It makes you grin. "I had never met a Shadowsinger before."

"Yeah?" Azriel breathes shakily. "Disappointed?"

He says it like a joke but you can hear the note of sincerity in his tone. His hidden worry that he isn't all you dreamed of. It's nearly laughable how wrong he is.

This close you can see his long lashes and every shade of brown in his eyes. You wonder if you'll ever get used to how beautiful he is. Part of you hopes you never do.

"Not in the slightest," You say, nearly a whisper.

Then his lips are on yours, pillowy soft skin against yours, and it feels like coming home. He kisses you, kisses you, kisses you til you're breathless and the glow in your chest could rival the sun in its warmth.

He kisses you and every atom in your body hums and fizzes and comes to life — and all you can do is hold him tight and kiss him back, just as fiercely.

Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you pant and grin brazenly at Azriel, at your mate, happier than you've ever been. Faintly, you realise that you won't be heading home when the two months of your study are up after all.

Not when you have a man who looks at you so reverently, who kisses you like there's oxygen hidden in the plush of your lips, who holds you like there's nothing more precious in the world.

Not when you know that home is right here, in front of you.

[urhoneycombwitch]

foreword: have u ever had a buddy so good you jack off with him <3 roommate!Eddie x reader fic for ya. link to roommate!Eddie mlist here

cw: drug mention, R wears a bra, has breasts (implied to be large enough to “spill”) + V, no pronouns used only petnames, nipple play, R is queer (talks about Molly Ringwald in a sexual nature <3), praise kink, mutual masturbation, but as friends, we’re all normal here okay, we Do Not talk about our hidden feelings in this one soz

wc: 2.3k

___

An unfortunate shift of the pillows supporting your body pulls you from the depths of sleep, consciousness surfacing, breaching with a soft huffy groan. 

Waking up on a normal day is hard enough. Waking from a good dream, one where someone’s head was between your legs and everything was swelling lush with heat? Now that’s torture. 

You burrow the cold side of your face under the covers, eyes still screwed shut in defiance of being awoken before the dream could pay off. There’s a heartbeat pounding near the apex of your thighs; with one leg stretched out and the other draped around the curve of your body pillow, your hips roll forward automatically, seeking friction.

The soaked front of your underwear drags against the pillow’s seam, catching your clit on the next glide of your hips. Another soft moan, breath fanning from your parted lips. If you can stay in this grey area of sleep and waking, maybe the horniness will swallow your mind back to the dream…

When someone’s hand brushes your bare shoulder, your movements freeze. Goosebumps prickling in the palm-owner’s wake, you blink against the morning light pouring in through your bedroom window and try to orient yourself.

Your head is nestled in the curve of someone’s neck, left arm tucked secure around their chest. Leg hitched over their waist, cotton boxers band digging at the plush of your thigh- something else solid and warm trapped against their stomach.

A snuffle from your human body pillow, and the waking world hits you sideways, all at once- Eddie. You’d fallen asleep with Eddie last night, after helping him play-test a new hybrid strain and dancing to records all evening, until you both collapsed in a heap of giggles. In your bed. 

Which means that you’ve been humping Eddie’s leg in your sleep. And the thick length trapped under your thigh belongs to him, too. 

Before you can even fully process or think up an escape plan holding the least amount of embarrassment for you both, Eddie’s stretching the arm that isn’t cupping your shoulder up and out with a long yawn. 

His hips shift, pressing himself into your leg unintentionally, and you can feel the moan that rumbles through his body- at your ear, vibrating under your hand on his bare chest. Eddie mumbles something incoherent and sleep-addled, pulling you in closer, nosing at the crown of your head.

“Uh-” your voice comes out half-squeak, half-croak, not fully pushing off Eddie but keeping your frame tight enough to roll away at a moment’s notice. “H-hey.”

Eddie’s palm smooths down the plane of your upper back, stopping at the wide band of your bra. He makes another noise, this time a bit less sleepy- and then he, too, freezes, all those points of contact along the length of your own body stiffening, muscles tensed with realization. 

“Oh, fuck. Shit.”

Eddie’s voice is like rocks on pavement, three shades of gravelly, really not helping your whole ‘wet as a river’ situation, one that he can probably feel leaking onto his bare leg at this point. He doesn’t immediately roll away, though; he remains in that freeze-mode, tense and poised, holding you against the span of his side still.

Well. As frozen as one can be with a throbbing case of morning wood.

“I guess we… fell asleep,” you say, carefully, adopting the same cat-like stillness, the pause before a big leap. “Sorry-”

“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. Jesus.” Eddie uses the hand that’s not cradling your shoulder to scrub down his face. This close, nestled into his neck, you can feel his loose hair tickling your cheek, the light scratch of his day-old stubble against your forehead when he speaks. “I’m gonna… go take care of this. And then maybe. Breakfast? Christ. Can’t think. All my blood’s elsewhere right now.”

You breathe a chuckle. His arm is still wrapped around you. 

“Yeah. Okay. Or you could just- take care of it. Here, I mean. With me.”

Eddie’s breath stops, actually stops, then stutters back into steady rhythm under your hand. “...yeah?”

He sounds unsure but curious, excitement bleeding into the edges of that one word as your thumb sweeps across the spot where his ribcage meets. “Yeah. Be doing me a favor, too- I was kind of in the middle of a… a good dream. Prob’ly me that woke you up, anyways.”

Eddie’s hand drops from your shoulder, slithers back to his own space, disrupting your head rest briefly- until you realize he’s doing it to make enough room for you both to stretch out flat (on your mattress that was barely designed for one full-grown person). 

“A good dream,” Eddie parrots, as you both re-situate under the thin cover of your floral-patterned top sheet. Shoulder to shoulder, skimming the heat from each other’s bare skin as you stare resolutely at the ceiling, there’s a frizzy mass of black hair in your periphery. A hint of a smile in Eddie’s voice as he asks, “What were you dreamin’ about?”

You can feel the rippling shift of his bicep as his arm moves, hand sliding unseen beneath the sheets- a sharp inhale as his hand finds purchase over the bulge in his boxers. 

In response, your own hand follows the contoured path to the spot below your navel, toying with the band of your panties before slipping underneath. Cupping yourself, feeling the heated slick coat your fingers before dragging it back up to rest your middle against the beating pulse of your clit- “Ah- um. Was dreamin’ about. Uh. Molly Ringwald.”

A few days from your latest John Hughes marathon, it’s the first feasible famous person that comes to mind. Luckily, Eddie just laughs, in a stilted gasp when his fist finds his aching cock- “Oh, fuck- yeah? Redheads do it for you these days?”

“Uh huh.” Maybe if you keep the focus on someone else, you’ll both be able to come out of this event unscathed. Walk away with your hands clean- er. Well. Nope. 

A better analogy is gonna have to wait, because your abdomen’s tightening with each pass of your wet finger over your clit, pleasure licking and sparking, the usual slow-build to orgasm forming with shocking rapidity.

“What was she doing?” Eddie, sounding strained and strung-out already (really makes you wonder how long you’d actually been using each other, in sleep, grinding and working the other person up), hand moving in long strokes- “In your dream, I mean. Licking you out? Did she use fingers?”

It’s not like you haven’t heard Eddie’s dirty talk before- in fact, you helped cultivate it, years ago when he was nervous for a third date and wanted some advice. You’ve coached him on sex techniques, he’s given his own expertise, you’ve both appraised the other's nudes, for christ’s sake- this is just a natural extension of your friendship. Your closeness. 

Eddie’s feeling awfully close, now, his arm bumping against yours with each pass of his fist over his dick, your leg periodically grazing the downy hair of his shin as your hips jolt upwards, into the electricity stemming from the pad of your finger. 

Choking on your words around a bright surge of pleasure- “Y- yeah. Her mouth. Fingers. All of it.”

“Fuck.” Eddie’s form lurches, doing a half-crunch forwards- risking a glance, you catch a glimpse of the sweat beading at his temples, the dark slant of his brow in concentration, jaw working through the grit of his teeth- “Why don’t you use some fingers, then.”

Like he’s got you under some sort of command spell (because you’re not touching the alternatives with a ten-foot pole), you obey, middle and ring fingers curling into the tight channel of your cunt. There’s a spot you hit on your front wall, gummy and responsive, muscles reacting on instinct by contracting and spasming around your fingers.

You’re close already, panting, head tipped back against the bottom sheet, neck bared, eyes squeezing shut at the wave of pleasure that begins to pulse insistently. “I’m- fuck, Eddie. Keep talking, please-”

“So good,” Eddie says, almost funny in how quick he is to interrupt your pleading. “So good for me. Sound so wet, too, bet you’re soaking…”

You are, in fact, rivulets of slick joining into one just under the globes of your ass, cooling and sticky, a bit uncomfortable but since it’s laundry day and you feel this good you can’t really bring yourself to care.

A half-gasp whimper as you writhe your pelvis up, again, chasing that edge, tantalizingly close, the wet noises from your weeping cunt and plunging fingers spurring Eddie on.

“That’s it, baby.” He’s encouraging even in his own heady fog of pleasure (must’ve had a good sex-talk coach), voice low and rough at your ear as he drops his chin to get closer. “Tell me what you need, hm? Lemme get you there.”

“Need you- you, to…” Frustrated by your lack of breath, in lieu of communicating with words you slide your fingers from yourself, seeking Eddie’s hand before you can overthink the action. You leave a trail of slick against his hip bone, and Eddie releases himself to give you his hand- moaning, cock twitching, as you coat your own heated wetness over his dry palm. 

This time, when you both get your hands back on yourselves, it’s with a tandem whine, Eddie’s ending with a hiss through teeth- “Fuck. Fuck, yes. So wet. So good.”

“Yeah?” Like you never left, your pussy molds easily to the shape of your three fingers again. Your other hand leaves your side to paw at your clothed breast, nipples peaking through the lace. “I gotta- I’m gonna take my bra off. Please.”

You don’t actually wait for permission, but Eddie gives it anyways as you slide the cups down, babbling encouragement- “Shit, sweetheart, yeah. Whatever you gotta do. So good for me, tellin’ me what you need. Good job.”

One day, you’re gonna regret telling Eddie you get off on praise, but not today; with one nipple pinched firmly between thumb and forefinger, your other breast spills to the side, resting against Eddie’s upper arm.

He groans, from his toes, fist slipping over his cock with ease thanks to your contribution. The sounds filling your small room are obscene, sex-dipped moans and glossy wet hand movements all reaching a crescendo as both your hips jerk up at the same time.

Keeping the same pace against your clit as Eddie’s keeping on his dick, the spark of pleasure has turned into a roar that swims up to your ears, a white-out of an orgasm fast approaching each time the heel of your palm slams into your clit. 

“Eddie- jesus, Eddie- Eddie Eddie Eddie-”

You’d feel sheepish about how desperate you sound if Eddie wasn’t matching your energy two-fold. His lanky frame thrashes when your speech devolves into a repetition of his name, keening as his fist staves off tipping over the edge with a tight ring at the base of his cock- “That’s it, baby, y’can do it, angel. Come on. Come with me. Please, please-”

With a final cruel twist to your breast, you come undone, orgasm spooling heat throughout your whole system, Eddie’s name unraveling in a long cry. Eddie follows you, fucking up into his fist, ropes of cum shooting to the top of the sheets tent he’d made, hunching against the spasms crawling up his abdomen. 

You ride the last of your orgasm out on the stretch of three fingers, releasing your nipple when the pressure turns to a twinge of pain. Under the covers, your bare chest heaves around the stretched elastic band of your shoved-down bra; with shaky, uncoordinated hands, you reach behind and beneath yourself to undo the hooks, flinging the offending clothing in the general direction of your hamper.

Eddie chuckles, breathless, bellows of his ribs nudging your forearm as he sinks back into his (your) pillow. “Christ. Good thing it’s laundry day.”

There’s no room for shame, no ounce of you that wants to dwell on what this could mean, right now- although there’ll be plenty of time for that later. As it stands, you’re both swathed in a quiet, post-sex bliss, neither wanting to disturb the peace. 

In a dreamy haze, you take note of little things- the drag of Eddie’s pinky against the back of your hand. The glint of his rings stored in a neat line atop your nearby dresser. A block of mid-morning sunshine from the window cast over the bed, prickling at your legs with warmth.

After a few minutes of this, Eddie sits up, mumbling apologies when you snatch the sheets to keep yourself covered. “You want first shower?”

He looks at you over his shoulder, down the lovely arc of his nose, brown eyes tender and staying on you for a beat too long. Squirming under his gaze, you find anywhere else to look (other than the pale slope of his back, smattered and dotted with freckles), shaking your head. “Nope. All yours.”

You flick your interest back to the ceiling as Eddie pulls up his boxers, grimacing at the mess he’s made of your sheets; before leaving, he bends to scoop up your tossed bra, snapping his own underwear to emphasize- “I’ll start this load before showering, then I’ll come back for your bedding.”

At your nod, Eddie leaves to clank around in the laundry closet; then there’s a rusty squeak of the shower handle, a subsequent rush of water, and Eddie’s pleasant husky humming floats down the hall through the open doors. 

You roll onto your front with a contented sigh, burying your nose in the pillow Eddie was just lying on- it smells like him, now, smoky and spicy and familiar. 

You spend the rest of his shower time coming up with a good excuse to save this pillowcase from being washed.

[bywons]

愛 𓈒 A LITTLE LESS SCANDALOUS ENHYPEN—

╰—— “ 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇' 𝗎𝗌, 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒, 𝗅𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 ” — 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗄𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆

🪽 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗀. 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌 2074 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 ! 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾(?), 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ✦ ◞ 𝐶ATALOGUE?!

๑´ ³`) ﾉ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!

LEE HEESEUNG — shows you off all around the college campus, an arm wrapping your shoulders and bored eyes to scare off guys who thought they had a chance with you. his presence alone is enough to send a clear message: you're off-limits. it's not just his imposing demeanour that keeps others at bay; it's the way he looks at you, with a mix of pride and adoration that makes it clear you're the centre of his world. everyone knows not to mess with heeseung's girl, if they don't want a black eye.

and even when he's not around you like a guard dog, you're wearing his leather jacket everywhere, like a souvenir. between classes, he sneaks moments to steal kisses, his touch gentle yet possessive. you find comfort in the routine, in the way he makes you feel safe and cherished.

"you don't have to do that, you know," you say, looking up at him with a reassuring smile.

“do what?”, heeseung's voice morphs into a mellow, loving tone, as he looks down at you.

“scare them like that”, you sigh. heeseung chuckles, pulling you closer, "i can't help it. i just want to make sure everyone knows you're mine.”

“i think they got the message”, you giggle, kissing your lovely boyfriend.

PARK JONGSEONG — has his utmost faith in the fact that there is no line in this world he wouldn't cross for you. from sneaking into your room late at night to celebrate your anniversary, to beating up your psycho ex, jongseong's actions speak louder than his words. to him, protecting you isn't just a duty, it's a sacred vow. that's why he drags your ex to his underground boxing match, to claim his victory— both over this fight and you. most ardently, you.

and it's all worth the cuts and bruises and hushed conversations around the town when they are being treated by you.

"you're crazy, you know that?" you murmur, but there's no hiding the affection in your voice. you dab the cotton swab over his wounds, faces too close to each other.

jay raises his head from your lap, hovering over you within seconds. there's this glint in his eyes that speaks volumes for him, and he does the rest with his lips.

“only for you”, jay replies, catching your lips in a breathtaking kiss, hands wandering under your shirt in a split second, “forever for you, crazy or not”, he nibbles on your lower lip, before kissing you again.

his hands slip under your shirt, that's actually his, and wonder about your waist, tracing random shapes.

your heart flutters at his words, and you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles. "just promise me you'll be careful," you say, your eyes reflecting the depth of your feelings for him.

“sorry angel”, jay sighs, ruffling your hair playfully, “i need to make sure there are no bad guys.”

SIM JAEYUN — ‘s second most favourite thing in this entire universe is his bike. the first being the girl who sits behind him on his bike, you. reality blurs with his fantasies when you wrap your hands around his torso, pulling yourself closer to lean on his shoulders. the ambient air hits your face and makes your hair dance along with it, as jake’s bike speeds up. he feels euphoric at this moment, it's just you and him.

it's the way his biker jacket dangles off from his shoulder, the silver chain decorating his neck— which is obviously gifted by you. and everytime you're nervous while looking down at you, he bites his lips, which is not helpful at all.

“oh my god, jake slow down!”, you hold on even tighter to him as he roars his bike, and that's just what he wants. he chuckles softly, the sound barely audible over the roar of the engine. "hold on tight, love," he shouts back, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief. the cityscape blurs into streaks of light and colour as you weave through the streets together, the night air cool against your skin.

he takes a sudden turn, and the bustling city gives way to quieter streets lined with trees. you dismount, legs slightly wobbly, but jake is there to steady you.

"how was that?" he asks, a grin spreading across his face.

you laugh, the sound full of joy and relief. "absolutely crazy," you reply, gazing up at him. “you scared me good."

"scare you? never," he teases, pulling you into a hug. "i just wanted to feel you hold onto me tighter."

you shake your head, playfully swatting his arm. "you're impossible, you know that?"

"it's alright if it's you," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead

PARK SUNGHOON — climbs up your balcony at 3 am, the perfect time when he knows your parents are either having a soundless sleep or out of town. he feels like a knight in shining armour, climbing up to save his dear princess from all the melancholy and shush her to ease, hands softly gliding through her raven hair. he lands with a soft thud, his eyes scanning the darkened room through the sheer curtains.

as he approaches your window, his heart beats faster, not from the exertion but from the anticipation of seeing you again. he knows this is dangerous, knows that if your parents found out it could mean the end for him. but none of that matters now

he taps lightly on the glass, and watches your silhouette get up and open the window for him with a worried face. “sunghoon what the—”, you manage to shush yourself before pulling him in and shutting the window close, “you just came here yesterday!”, you whisper.

“can't even see my pretty girl in peace now?”, sunghoon sighs, pulls you closer and lets your lips meet. they travel all over your face, to your neck, trailing up to nibble on your earlobes and back to your lips again. he takes a moment to breathe and adore your pretty face. "i couldn't stay away," he murmurs, his eyes locks onto yours. "i needed to see you.”

“i get it hoon, but at least tell me before you drop by”, there is adoration hidden by worry in your voice as you press a soft kiss on his mole near his nose. “i wanted it to be a surprise, princess”, he chuckles.

“what if my parents—”

before you could say another word, sunghoon tackles you down on the bed. “i don't care if your parents find out”, he shushes you, his index finger ghosting over your lips, tracing it down to the middle of your collar bones, “it's about us, and you're mine.”

KIM SUNOO — hates to see you hanging around with boys who just aren't good for you. he knows their type—smooth talkers with no substance, guys who don't see you for the incredible person you are. in his mind, he's the one for you. maybe because he's crazy in love with you but also because he knows how to treat you better. sunoo knows your favourite colour, how you like your coffee, your favourite spots around town and what not.

it's always him, even in this cold of night when your date stood you up, and you circled back to kim sunoo. teeth chattering and a soft yet piercing breeze, another minutes’ wait before you hear the long awaited familiar voice.

“sorry uh— i'm late”, sunoo clears his throat, hesitant to look at your eyes, “let's go home.”

you're about to run to him and be ready to go home when you notice the bruises on his knuckles, “what the fuck have you been doing?”, you furrow your eyebrows together. sunoo tries to hide his hands behind his back, but it's too late. you grab his wrist, pulling it closer to inspect the damage. the bruises are fresh, the skin raw and tender. “what is this, sunoo?”

“since you don't know how to deal with trash dudes”, he rolls his eyes, snatching his wrists back, “and i called jay so we were good. now let's go home.”

“you can’t keep doing this, sunoo,” you say softly, your voice barely audible over the wind. “you’re going to get hurt.”

“if you care about me so much then maybe you should just be with me”, sunoo spits those words, coming out of him in an instant, “i'm i-”

“i love you,” you reply back, a hint of nervousness and hurry, almost as instant as him, “sorry, i was not brave enough.” sunoo immediately takes your face in between his hands, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips, “don't ever say sorry to me ever again. it's okay…i love you too.”

YANG JUNGWON — ‘s secret behind his back to back victories is you. overly eager to impress the pretty girl in denim skirts and hoop earrings. your presence at the illegal racing scene fuels his desire to impress you, to see your smile widen with every race he wins.

as he revs up his engine, the adrenaline coursing through his veins isn't just for the thrill of the race, it's to capture your attention, to make your heartbeat a little faster. each victory isn't just about the prize money or the bragging rights, it's about earning your admiration, maybe even your affection.

jungwon dismounts his bike, helmet in hand, and strides towards you, a triumphant grin on his face. "told you i’d win," he says, voice low and confident. he pulls you closer by your waist, his hand snaking tighter around it.

“you never fail to amaze me," you say, looking up at him with a mixture of awe and affection.

he chuckles, a hint of pride in his voice. "just doing what i do best.”

he shrugs, but you can see the sparkle of excitement in his eyes. "it's easy when i have the best motivation in the world.” jungwon's eyes light up at the sight of your smile, how happily you look at him and giggle over his win.

“we're missing something out”, jungwon clears his throat, pulling you just a bit closer, doing all his best not to kiss you.

“really? what's that?”, you smirk.

“you promised to let me take you out on a date if i win”, a smirk plays at the corners of his lips, a smug confidence coloured over his face, “‘ya still remember that?”

“and what if i say i forgot?”, hard to get, he likes that.

jugwon's smirk widens, "then i guess i'll have to remind you," he murmurs, his voice a tantalising blend of challenge and flirtation.

NISHIMURA RIKI — has endless foolproof excuses up his sleeves, whether it's bunking his class or ways to meet up with you despite your strict household. just last week he had to take you out on café and amusement park dates to convince you to tutor him, that too, in your house! something about the fact that your parents can catch you both thrills riki.

he leans casually against the school gate, his usual smirk playing on his lips as he watches you approach. "hey," he greets, sliding his hands into his pockets. "ready for our 'study session'?"

you roll your eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest at the sight of him. “you know, if you actually paid attention in class, you wouldn't need tutoring." he laughs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "where's the fun in that? besides, i prefer learning from you.”

you had a hard time convincing your dad to even let riki in your house, he's always greeted with an awkward stareq, which he returns back to your mom. "you really shouldn't be here," you whisper, glancing nervously around.

he chuckles softly, his voice low and comforting. "relax. i promise i won't get you in trouble."

"alright, algebra it is. but you know," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper, "i think i'd learn better if you rewarded me for every right answer." you look at him, your resolve weakening. "what kind of reward are we talking about?"

he grins, his gaze intense. "how about a kiss for every correct answer?"

“only if you wanna die—”

but it's only a fraction of a second before he pulls you into a sweet kiss, pushing you away as he hears the door of your room creaking open. he's once again greeted by your father's angry face.

“oh, good evening sir!”

a/n — i don't think the sypnosis is it TT i think this could've been more bad boy coded on my part, but honestly my brain was fried TT lmk if u liked it tho!

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

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[i-cant-sing]

Yandere Batfam x reader who cant feel pain

HEhehehe i just remembered a disease and I just had to write about a reader with it x yandere batfam.

Have you guys heard of CIPA? Its "Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis" which is basically a genetic condition when a patient cant feel pain to any noxious stimulus and can also not sweat, and yall are probably like "but SNoWWW, that doesnt like a diSEase. More like a superpower!!!" um no. You need to be able to feel pain or else you wont know what part of your body has been injured and get help before its too late. You could have thumbtack plunged in your foot and u wouldnt know unless it got infected and u probably saw ur foot changing color.

And now yall are like "but SNoWw, the anhidrosis part, where u cant sweat, sounds nice! who would to look like a sweaty pig in this age????" NO! Sweating is a necessary physiologic phenomenon because it lets your body cool down as it releases heat. If you dont sweat, you'd overheat and DIE!

Okay now that we've covered the basic info, lets get into it:

So, Batfam finds out about reader when she's just running into danger with little to no care for self preservation, and they dismiss it as you being just another dumb teen wanting to be hero and "change the world". Time passes by and Bruce is impressed by your passion and decides to take you under his wing.

It isnt until months later that Bruce discovers something odd about your behaviour. You were standing in the kitchen with the rest of the batkids, laughing and having a good time when he saw Dick had pulled out a hot pan of cookies from the oven and placed it on the aisle. The pan slipped, and without thinking, you had grabbed the hot pan with your bare hands very calmly and placed it back on the aisle, without so much as a hiss of pain or even a sweat.

And now that he thinks about it, Bruce has never seen you sweat. Not during training, not during summer, not even when after you ran laps around the mansion.

With a quick search on the Internet, he finds out about the disease and of course its Dick who he confides in first about his suspicions. Soon, the rest of the batfam has heard the rumours and now they're all watching you keenly to see if its true.

But Jason is the one who tests out the theory quickly by spilling some hot tea on your hand when you were busy talking to Tim about the importance of sleep. The room goes dead silent as they watch your hand turn red, yet you fail to react. It took you a few seconds to realise that they're all looking at you, and when you follow their gaze, it takes you a few seconds to react.

Or fake a reaction.

You shriek, pulling your reddening hand as you run to the sink and run it under cold water, your mind trying to come up with an excuse. But you know its too late when Bruce's hand comes to clasp your shoulder, pulling you away from the sink as his eyes examine your injured hand and... you.

"Bruce I-"

"I know, Y/n." He gives you assuring nod, carefully bandaging your hand as you sat in his office. "You have CIPA, hm?"

You looked down. Why bother lying? He's Batman, he'll find out anyways.

Bruce lifted your head and smiled gently at you. "Its okay. I'm not disappointed in you. I just... you could've told me." You shook your head. "If I did, you would've treated me differently... like a freak."

He sighed. "You are different, but I would've never treated you like a freak. You're not a freak. If anything, between us, I'm more of a freak than you." He was talking about being a hero, but you giggled at the thought of him referring to being a rich dude who cosplays in spandex.

Bruce cupped your cheek and smiled. "I promise, no one will treat you like a freak. But we will have to take some precautions for your safety."

-

He lied. You've never felt more like a freak than you do now.

Every single day would start off with Dick waking you up and sticking a thermometer in your mouth because he needs to make sure that you're not overheating, even though Bruce has set a thermostat in your room that he controls and he's programmed it to turn your room temperature change by the hour.

Then Dick would start checking you all over for any bruises or injuries, even a scratch, that you may have caused yourself in your sleep. Originally, Damian was the one who had a whole checklist as he examined your body, but that all ended the moment you smacked him when he asked you to lift your shirt. Dick would just have you go and check yourself in the bathroom and trust you when you said you're all good. Also, you're much nicer to Dick than you are to the rest of the brothers (its his puppy dog eyes and that sweet voice that compels you to do as he asks. He's just too nice.)

Dick would then lead you to down for breakfast with the family, where Alfred already has your glucometer out because of course, they must check your blood sugar level every day, lest they find out you're diabetic or something. Only then would you be served your meal, which is a highly nutritous, perfeclty seasoned, balanced dish because they want to make sure you dont have any vitamin deficiencies (because how would they know???? you dont feel pain). But you cant eat just yet. No no, whichever brother is closer, most often Jason, will first taste your food to make sure its not too hot to consume (because you dont realise you've burned the roof of your mouth that one time when Tim ate a slice of pizza that was fresh out of the oven and huppahhuffpuhh the morsel out). Jason would then give you the go to eat and you finally do. You make sure to finish the whole plate (because otherwise Bruce will make note of it and then interrogate you "medically" why you didnt feel like eating all of it?)

After breakfast, while the rest of the batkids get to go to school and work, you dont (because Bruce thinks that your immune system could be weak and he cant risk you catching any diseases from the outside.) No, you get a special trip to the infirmary where Bruce and Alfred do a more thorough medical check up, taking your vitals, JOTTING IT DOWN, while Alfred hooks you up to an IV drip of vitamins. And even though they go to such extents to ensure that you're healthy, they still take you to a skilled doctor once a week for regular check ups. Bruce wanted to keep the doctor in the house to do daily check ups, but you talked him out of it that you dont want to feel like a lab rat who has her blood taken every day. Once a week is fine, Bruce.

Once the medical check up is done, Bruce would then take you with him, either to Wayne enterprises where you sit in his office as he imparts you "business education that no school can teach you." which you believe because... well he has managed to triple the Wayne wealth even after his parents death. If he's working from home, then he'll let you accompany him in his home office where you can either read a book he chose for you (because Bruce prefers to homseschool you himself) or do a puzzle/case he created specifically for you. If he's working in the batcave, then he'll let you tag along but you can only work here by brainstorming or doing some computer research, but in no way are you allowed to ever go on field and fight. No, not since your last incident.

Just 2 months ago, you were patrolling with Jason (because Bruce refused to let you go alone now. He just wont risk it) and you encountered some bad guys who were a little more well equipped than you two had expected. A fight broke out, and in the process you got hurt badly. Of course, you didnt realise it because you didnt feel any of the punches or the bone fracturing. Jason could only look at you in dread as you smashed your head against the villain's head until the guy passed out, all while your nose bled, you were covered in bruises from top to bottom, AND you had a bone sticking out of your arm.

"Jay? I think I'm hurt?" You asked as blood coated your teeth.

After that, Bruce forbid you from going out on the field altogether because you just dont know when to stop. If it werent for bones sticking out or blood dripping down your face, you wouldnt know that you've been injured.

Anyways, at lunch, almost everyone has returned from work/school and you get yet another balanced meal (temperature tested by another brother). You're now scheduled for some exercises, usually conducted by Damian (under Dick's supervision because otherwise, you'd just be smacking that devil's spawn.) You guys use the gym in the basement, where Damian makes you run on the treadmill for some time, during which he does not take his eyes off you once because he needs to know when he should stop you, especially since you dont sweat or are even huff. If he didnt keep time, you could probably run for a long time and not realise that your legs or lungs are begging you to stop and take a break. As you hop off the machine, he's immediately taking your temperature. He does it after every exercise he makes you do.

After that is done, you spend time with Tim who likes to have you try on little gadgets that should "help you feel pain", but so far, he hasnt had any luck (but he doesn seem to be doing good in disguising trackers in your daily wear things). Oh and Damian loves to join in because he gets to sneak up on you and prick you with needles to help Tim see if your sensory pathways work. They dont, but you dont need your pain receptors to detect Damian coming up behind you as you smack him when he tries to prick you.

Then dinner is served, and then you're ushered straight to bed where Dick, or more often- Bruce has you do a self check like the one Dick does in the morning, but Bruce also makes sure to check your eyes to see if you "accidentally scratched your cornea" or whatever, tucks you in, tells you that he's so proud of you for how youre handling this and that you can come to him anytime, for anything. He kisses your forehead, wishes you goodnight, and leaves.

Half an hour later, Jason sneaks into your room with the goodies- junk food and video games. You two have the strongest bond because Jason is the one who treats you the most normal, and Jason does it partly to piss off Bruce but partly because he cares about your mental health. He knows it cant be good for you to be cooped up in the mansion under supervision like a bird in a gilded cage.

So sometimes, he sneaks you out of the mansion and takes you out on late night rides on his bike. You can even watch him fight villains, but you're sat far away and can never interferre.

Unfortunately for you two, this sneaking out will have to end because Bruce had recently decided to set up some cameras in your room because he wanted to make sure you slept well without any abnormal breathing patterns. Bruce hopes he doesnt have to use restraints on you, because he's not blind. He knows you're uncomfortable with this intricate routine and knowing your impulsive self, you'd probably break your own bones to get out of these restraints. And then he'll be forced to use sedatives and he really doesnt wanna rely on drugs... he likes your company when you're not droopy.

And as Bruce had anticipated, you broke down. You finally tried to leave, and he could see the color draining your face as you realised that there is no leaving.

"Why isnt the door opening?" You asked Bruce, as his four sons slowly surrounded you.

"You dont have to run away, Y/n-" He tried to calm you down but you flinched away, eyes wide as you looked at him like he was going to harm you.

"Bruce, why isnt the fucking door opening?" Your voice trembled, shooting him teary glare before focusing your eyes back on the boys who were closing in on you.

"You're meant to stay here, inside, where its safe." He answered, heart aching at the alarmed stance you took, your fight-or-flight was going to kick in. He took another step towards you, hands raised in surrender. "We can keep you safe-" thats all it took for you to bolt as the boys began chasing you. Realistically, you knew you couldnt escape them but something about their intensely concerned calls for your name had you jumping out of the window.

Glass shattered and sharp shards embedded themselves in your skin and feet, but you didnt react to them. No, your brain wasnt screaming in pain, it was screaming for you to get out!

Adrenaline pumped you to run into the dark woods surrounding the mansion, but you were soon knocked to the ground by Dick, who cushioned your fall by placing you on top of him as his hands wrapped around your form like a cage. "Y/n, calm down and listen-"

You began thrashing in his arms, screaming in agony. "Let ME GO! YOU'RE HURTING ME-!" Dick's arms loosened instinctively and you took that as a chance to elbow him in the throat and run, thanking some deity for letting Dick forget that you cant feel pain.

But your relief is short lived as Damian catches you and pushes you to the ground harshly. "Damian! Be careful! She could break a bone-"

"Bones can heal, Drake." Damian barked back, pulling you up before he pushed you against tree. "Let me go, you maniac-" Damian's hand clamped around your throat, making you shut up. "You're the one who's a maniac. Look at you! You've fucking hurt yourself because if your astounding stupidity!"

You whimpered, clawing at his hand wrapped around your throat. "Dami- p-please let go- you're hurting me!" You cried out, but your eyes went wide as he squeezed your throat and bared his teeth at you. "Not falling for it, dumbass." So... fooling Damian wasnt as easy a feat as it was fooling Dick.

You stopped the act and looked at him dead serious. "Let me go, Damian, or-"

"Or what?"

Or what? Or what? Did he think you were out of options? Out of escape plans?

You dont know why, but that triggered something inside you.

Damian and Tim could only watch as you suddenly slammed the back of your head against the tree. "Y/n-" He gasped in horror as you leaned your head forward before slamming it back against the hard rough surface. This time, Damian's hand that was wrapped around your neck felt your blood around his fingers.

"Its my life and I get to decide how I should live it." You sneered before raising your head again to bash it, but Damian's hand quickly slipped from your neck to the back of your head, cushioning it when you smacked it back, the skin on the back of his hand breaking as it made contact with the bark.

You pushed him away and tried to make a run for it, but Tim grabbed your wrist. You tried to pull away, but he had a death grip on it. "Y/n, stop! You need to listen-"

"Oh is that so? I think I need this." You used your other hand to punch yourself in the face (because Tim would've dodged it if you punched him), making your nose bleed. But you didnt feel any pain, and now you were acting like a super soldier zombie that has no concept of self preservation who is going through fucked up lengths to prove her point.

Your eyes caught the sight of a glass shard poking out of your thigh. "Wanna see something cool?" You pulled out the shard, not paying mind to the blood oozing out. "Y/n, stop-" Tim begged, and you saw Damian froze in the back as you raised the shard.

They didnt know what your next target was- slashing your wrists, slitting your throat, or stabbing your stomach, but fortunately, they didnt have to find out as Jason came up behind you and injected you with a tranquilliser.

Sadly, you never felt the prick or sensed the hero sneaking up behind you.

thoughts? also, what other diseases would u guys like me to write for. i just adore these cool medical abnormalities lol