#i could at least pretend to ignore whatever the us was doing

[ricoka]

wish I could unsubscribe from notifications from a local newspaper about tr*mp specifically because I definitely want to be informed about important stuff, but I'm already so tired of hearing about him and he hasn't even really started yet

[punkshort]

Just Friends

Thank you @brittmb115 for this prompt!

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Accompanying your friend Javier to his holiday work party seemed simple enough until it gets a little too hard to just pretend to be dating.

Warnings: language, fake dating, one bed trope, sexual tension, jealousy, flirting, cigarette use, alcohol use, friends to lovers, reader has insecurities about her looks, fingering, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex

WC: 6.4K

dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Please, cariño, it's just one night. The party's at a casino about two hours outside the city. The DEA paid for hotel rooms 'cause they're worried about people drinking and driving. We'll be back by noon on Saturday, you'll still have your whole weekend to mope around over Travis," Javi begged as he followed you around your kitchen.

"Trent," you corrected with a glare over your shoulder. Javi just waved you off.

"Yeah, whatever. His name doesn't matter anymore, now does it?" he countered with an arched brow. You frowned and continued to put your dishes away.

Javier was right - Trent's name didn't matter anymore. Not after he dumped you out of the blue, two weeks before Christmas. He probably didn't want to buy you a gift, Javier had said when you called him up crying. It wasn't exactly the most comforting thing to hear, but at least he made you laugh.

"And why is it you don't want to attend this event by yourself? I thought you would have wanted to take some poor secretary back to your room for the evening," you said, flipping the dishwasher closed before playfully adding, "This better not be some sick move to try to get into my pants again." Javi pulled out his carton of cigarettes and began to anxiously tap it against his palm. When you whisked by, you smacked it out of his hand with a warning: do not smoke in my house.

"You've made it very clear I won't be touching your pants, hermosa," he chuckled, recalling a handful of failed attempts to get you into bed before giving up entirely. "But, uh, I've been taking one too many secretaries home lately," Javi admitted with a lopsided grin. "Got one real pissed at me for not calling her back. Had to make up a lie that I had gotten back together with an ex, so..."

Your jaw dropped and you stared daggers at him with your hands on your hips.

"So not only are you asking me to go with you to this party, but I'm supposed to pretend we're dating?" you clarified, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. When he nodded sheepishly, you tossed your hands in the hair and began to curse under your breath.

"Oh, come on! It won't be that bad! It's not like she's gonna say anything. It's just for looks. Hell, you never know. Maybe you'll meet someone at this thing. I could be doing you the favor of a lifetime," he said before hopping up to sit on your kitchen island. You smacked his knee when you walked past and he grinned.

"I have barstools, you know."

"Yeah, but I like it up here. Better view," he winked and jutted his chin towards your v-neck shirt.

"Gross," you scowled, making him laugh. He took a handful of nuts from the bowl on your counter and shook them in his hand like dice.

"So? What's it gonna be? You in?"

You watched him tip his head back, pouring some peanuts in his mouth, and you sighed. What the hell. You didn't have anything better to do.

"Fine."

Javier jumped off the counter excitedly. "Thank you! I owe you one!" he exclaimed before heading for your door. "I gotta run. I'll pick you up around noon on Friday. And, hey - bring a dress. The party is a little formal."

You rolled your eyes and groaned, then shooed him out your door. "Thanks. Now I have to figure out a damn outfit."

"You're the best!" he shouted happily from his car. You shut your door and turned around to sag against the wood, finally surrounded with silence. Something you thought you were craving until you had it, and then suddenly you realized you had never felt more alone in your life.

"Where the hell is this place?" you asked, staring out the passenger seat of Javier's jeep. It felt like the car kept climbing higher and higher, and the way your ears were popping, you were thinking your hunch was right.

"It's a hotel slash casino up in the hills," he said with a nod towards the open, winding road. "Supposed to have a hell of a view."

"Yeah, guess so," you muttered, then gasped when a clearing came into view and you saw just how high up you really were. "Oh, my god! Javi - look!"

"I'm driving, cariño," he reminded you with a smirk, but his eyes still flickered quickly over the ridge.

"Wow," you said breathlessly. The view was spectacular. Miles and miles of hills and trees surrounded a sprawling hotel/casino. If you were closer to the edge, you would be able to see a lazy river snaking around the bottom of the mountain.

"Alright. So what's the story?" you asked when you settled back in your seat. There was still a ways to go until you reached the casino, but you could see it from the road nestled into the landscape.

"What story?"

"Our story," you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You told a girl you got back together with an ex. So, why did we originally break up?"

"Oh," Javi said, scratching his chin. "I don't know. You really think it matters?"

"Maybe. Who knows? Probably a good idea we at least talk about it," you shrugged.

Javi thought about it for a minute before snapping his fingers. "You wanted marriage and I didn't."

You made a face and shook your head.

"That would imply we're on the path to getting engaged. You really think you can fake a whole marriage because you pissed off a girl at work?"

"Yeah, good point," he mumbled before falling quiet to think about it some more. After a few minutes, he came up with another idea. "How about you were gonna move away for a job and we didn't want to do long distance, but the job fell through and you stayed?"

You nodded slowly, rolling the idea around in your head.

"Yeah, that's good. That'll work. Then one day to explain why you're single again, you can say I got another job offer out of state or something."

"Exactly."

"Alright. Easy enough," you hummed, then turned to gaze out your window again. Javi watched you for a few minutes out of the corner of his eye, his jaw working back and forth while he tried to come up with the right words to express his gratitude.

"Hey, uh," he said, clearing his throat. You turned to look at him expectantly. "I just wanna thank you again. I know you're going through a tough time and all that-"

"Don't mention it," you said dismissively. "It's not a big deal. Plenty of guys out there, right?"

Javi gave you a tight smile. "Yeah. Sure."

One thing that you didn't have a chance to fully think through was the sleeping situation. As Javi checked you in and you heard the girl at the front desk confirm one king sized bed, you felt yourself stiffen. He signed and grabbed the keys, then shot you a warm smile before gesturing towards the elevators. From the looks of it, Javier didn't mind one bit. Then, of course, it was Javier...

"No funny business," you declared when you entered your room and Javier flopped down tiredly on the huge bed. "You stick to your side, I'll stick to mine."

"Whatever you say, cariño," he replied with his eyes closed. "I'll be reminding you of that later tonight when you're all over me after a few drinks."

"That was one time and I told you I was sorry!" you exclaimed, cheeks burning from the memory.

Your relationship in the past with Javier was... complicated. When you first met, it felt like you kept seeking each other out at all the worst times. Whenever you made a move, he was unavailable, and vice versa. Eventually, you had decided to just be friends and left it at that. And it worked well. You had an easy relationship where it felt effortless and natural to go to the other with some exciting news, and sought a shoulder to cry on if something bad happened. It just seemed to work better without the romantic element.

All of that aside, at the crux of the issue was you were a romantic, through and through. You liked being in long term relationships. You enjoyed the comfort and peace it brought. Javier, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. You couldn't even remember the last time he brought the same girl out for drinks more than once and you had a suspicion he had never been in love.

"I'm just messing with you. Can't help it, I like when you're all flustered," Javi said before sitting up with a groan. When he stretched, you found your eyes drifting down to where his shirt rode up, revealing a small sliver of bronzed skin. You swallowed and forced yourself to look away because no matter how many times you reminded yourself it would never work between you, it didn't stop you from being unbearably attracted to him.

It was the confidence that he exuded. That was what you had finally decided was the thing that kept you drawn to him in a decidedly less-than-friendly way. But of course, you were quick to remember you weren't the only one who was attracted to his charm. Half the women in the city noticed it, too. You had just gotten very good at hiding it.

"What time's the party start?" you asked, hauling your duffel bag onto the bed so you could begin to unpack your toiletries. The first thing you did was take out the dark red slinky dress you bought so you could steam out the wrinkles with the iron packed away in the coat closet. What you didn't notice was the way Javier's eyes greedily locked onto the fabric while you moved around the room.

"Uh..." he murmured, his pulse quickening when he saw the plunging neckline of your dress. "That new?"

You furrowed your brow and turned around. "Yeah. I didn't exactly have anything suitable so I went shopping. Why? You don't like it?"

"No, no... it's perfect," he assured you. Javier blinked a few times, snapping himself out of it, and looked at you. "Very... festive."

You grinned and hung up the dress on the back of the bathroom door. "Thanks. I thought so, too. So... the party? What time?"

"Oh, right. Cocktail hour starts at five, dinner's at seven then dancing or whatever til who knows when."

You glanced at your watch and made a face after you did a quick pass with the iron.

"I better get in the shower, then," you said, grabbing your things. Javier leaned back onto the headboard and flicked on the television with the ease of a man who didn't intend on putting in much work on his appearance for evening. However, once you finished your hair and makeup and stepped out of the bathroom in that damn dress, he suddenly felt like he should have tried a little harder.

"Maybe I should put something in my hair," he muttered, his fingers flicking through the dark locks as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. You appeared in the doorway of the bathroom looking way too fucking attractive to be his date, let alone masquerading as his girlfriend. Your brows pinched together as you looked at his hair and it took every last ounce of willpower not to let his eyes fall to your cleavage in that tight dress.

"I think your hair looks good," you said. When you reached up to fix a stray piece of his hair, he cleared his throat and twisted away.

"Alright, let's get this thing over with," he mumbled as he slid past you and headed towards the door.

"What's got you so grumpy?"

"Nothing. Just need a drink and a smoke."

"You're gonna abandon me with a bunch of DEA agents to go smoke for ten minutes?" you whined, following him out of your hotel room towards the elevators.

"You could always join me. You'd look like Bette Davis smoking a cigarette and wearing that dress," he replied when you both stepped inside the elevator. He tapped the lobby button and grinned down at you.

"You and Bette Davis," you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"What? She made smoking look so damn cool."

"Yeah, well, I think I'm going to pass," you told him. "I'll get a drink and mingle. Maybe find one of the girls you pissed off and have a cat fight."

Javi chuckled and shook his head. "That's a long list, baby. Shouldn't be too hard."

When the elevator doors slid open, you could hear the music thumping from the ballroom and laughter echoing off the walls.

"Sounds like they didn't waste any time," you said to Javier.

"Are you kidding? When the government gives you an open bar, you fucking milk it," he replied before taking one step towards the front doors. "You sure you're good for a few?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," you said, waving him off. He nodded and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Before he even made it to the door, he slipped one in between his lips.

The ballroom was pretty full already, Javi was right: when government employees have a chance to let loose, they jump at the opportunity. The entire room was decorated in Christmas lights, garland, and at least five different trees. The DJ was cycling through a mix of Christmas carols, pop music, and classic rock. Some people already shaking their hips on the dance floor with drinks in their hands. You spotted two different bars set up, so you made your way to the nearest one and ordered a white wine. As you waited, you bopped your head along to the beat of Last Christmas while mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

"Jack Daniels, neat," a man's deep voice said from beside you when the bartender placed your wine glass on a coaster. You thanked him and slid a few dollars across the bar before taking a sip.

"Excuse me... have we met?"

You turned to look at your neighbor and slowly shook your head. He was cute. Blonde hair parted to one side, mustache, lean but strong physique and sparkling blue eyes.

"No, we haven't," you said before offering your hand and name.

"Steve," he grinned, giving your hand a firm shake before accepting his drink with a nod and a couple bucks in the tip jar. "What department do you work in?"

"Oh, I don't work for the DEA, I'm here with someone," you said, leaning closer. You watched his face fall when you implied you weren't single and you pursed your lips. How the hell would Javi expect you to meet anyone when you had to pretend to be his girlfriend?

"I mean, just a friend. A good friend," you added, praying you didn't blow Javi's cover the first time you opened your mouth. "Uh, what do you do?"

"I'm an agent," he told you, chest puffing with pride. "Takin' down drug rings one scumbag at a time."

"Wow. That's so impressive," you gushed. You saw the way his cheeks flushed a bit and preened when he glanced down at your chest. "That must be so hard. What's your favorite part about the job?"

"Goin' to the Christmas party and meeting beautiful women like you," he shot back smoothly, making you giggle and toss your hair flirtatiously over your shoulder. Steve's gaze dragged up and down your dress appreciatively before adding, "I mean it. You look stunning. Should've known someone like you didn't work for the DEA."

"Oh, stop," you giggled, feeling your face warm from his compliment.

"Where are you sitting? Maybe I can convince you to dance after dinner? Now fair warning, I got two left feet, but I got a feeling no one's gonna be lookin' at me," Steve grinned, taking a step closer and grazing his thumb along your bare arm.

"Hmm, that sounds-"

"Murphy."

You both twisted around to find Javier storming across the room. And storming was really the only word for it. His fists were clenched and his jaw pulled tight like he was about to take a swing at Steve.

"Javi," you greeted him sweetly with a smile. At the same time, Steve said, "Peña."

"What's going on here?" he asked, sidling up so he could wedge himself between you and Steve.

"Nothing. Steve and I were just talking," you said innocently.

"Looked like more than that," Javier huffed. His tone and the serious look on his face made you falter. Did you do something wrong?

"Well-"

"I was just asking her for a dance after dinner. Relax, Jav," Steve joked with a playful punch to his shoulder. When Javi remained stoic and unmoving at your side, the smile slowly slipped from Steve's face.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. I thought you were just friends."

"We are," you said quickly, but Steve was already backing away.

"Enjoy your night! It was lovely to meet you," Steve said with a wink before disappearing into the crowd. You swiveled on your heel to glare at Javi.

"Why didn't you correct him?" you seethed.

Javi just shrugged, his relaxed demeanor slipping back in place, and leaned up against the bar to flag down a bartender. "You can do better than Steve."

"Who are you to say?" you argued back after he ordered a whiskey. "We were clicking! And he's cute, why-"

"'Cause I don't want you fucking my partner, hermosa, that's why," Javi snapped. Your eyes widened and you clamped your mouth shut for a moment.

"He's your partner? Why didn't you ever introduce us before? He's-"

"C'mon, let's go find the appetizers or something," he said after snatching his glass from the bar top. It was very evident you wouldn't be getting any more information out of Javier so you decided to drop the subject. But as the happy hour inched along with your third drink in your hand and Javi's arm finding a permanent home around your waist as he introduced you to his coworkers, your mind kept drifting back to that hardened look he had given you and Steve. The butterflies in your stomach churned to life every time you thought about it, your memory twisting things so you could pretend he was jealous over you flirting with another man. It wasn't that hard to imagine, really. He could hardly keep himself from touching either your waist or lower back or grabbing your hand. It fed the little fantasy in your head, deluding yourself into thinking he was subtly trying to claim you in front of the whole party, warning others to stay away.

You had given up reminding yourself that the fake relationship schtick was just an act by the end of dinner. It was too nice to pretend otherwise.

Javi had been wrapped up in a long winded conversation with the man seated on the other side of him, but your heart was fluttering the whole time because from the moment he set his silverware down, his hand hadn't once left your leg.

With a dreamy smile plastered across your face, your eyes casually drifted around the room. People were already beginning to dance but many still remained at their dinner tables chatting. You had been quietly admiring the artwork on the walls and sipping from your glass when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It was hard to explain, but you just felt like someone was staring at you. Doing your best to be subtle, you shifted in your seat and let your gaze wander around the room again until you found the source.

There was a table to your left, half of which was empty, but five young women remained staring in your direction. Some had drinks dangling from their fingers, one had a scowl and another was leaning in to whisper something in her ear.

There was no question one of the girls must have been one of Javi's scorned lovers. If not all of them. Your heart sunk a little when you saw how beautiful they were and you forced yourself to look away.

Javier was handsome, he had charm, and he was funny. A lethal combination that managed to get him in bed with some extremely drop dead gorgeous women. It was then you felt your insecurities flare up. How could anyone buy you were a couple when he was used to having girls like that on his arm?

With Javier still talking, you stood up from your chair, suddenly feeling flustered and overwhelmed.

He stopped speaking mid sentence to look up and ask, "Where are you going?"

"Uh," you glanced around and swallowed nervously. "I think I just need some fresh air. I'll be right back."

"I'll go with you," he said, immediately standing. "I'll catch up with you later, Jim," Javi added over his shoulder before hurrying to catch up with you. When his palm pressed against your back, your feet automatically slowed.

"What's going on? Drink too much?"

"No. Well, maybe. I don't know," you rambled, eyes scanning for the exit. "I just feel like I don't fit in here."

"What? Why?" he asked, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. His face was filled with concern as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "You're doing great, cariño. I thought you were having fun."

"I was. I am," you stammered, and then your gaze landed on the table of girls, most of which had moved on to something else.

Before you could tear your eyes away, Javier noticed where you were looking and sighed.

"Yeah, sorry. I told you, I pissed off a woman or two here."

"It's not that," you mumbled, now staring down at the floor.

"Then what is it?"

You felt your cheeks flush and you couldn't look him in the eye when you finally admitted, "They're really pretty, Javi."

He just scoffed and took your hand in his.

"You're prettier."

You laughed lightly and shook your head. "Yeah, right. It's a good thing there's an open bar. Otherwise, I'm not sure people would believe we're together when you're usually seen with girls like that."

"Hey," Javi said softly. He hooked a finger under your chin and tilted it up so you would look at him. "Don't say that. You look better than anyone else here. If you weren't already, I'd be trying to get you up to my room right now," he said with a smirk. You giggled a little and sighed.

"Sorry. I guess I just had a moment or something," you said, breathing deep. Javi looked around the room and noticed how the dance floor was beginning to fill up.

"Wanna dance?"

You smiled and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you watched others having fun on the dance floor. Without waiting for your answer, Javi tugged your hand and tilted his head, urging you to follow him. "C'mon, don't leave me hanging."

You laughed and let him lead you to the dance floor, weaving through the throngs of people until he found a little wiggle room, but right when he turned back to look at you with a big, goofy smile, the fast tempo switched to a much slower ballad. Javi cocked an eyebrow at you and extended a hand, unphased.

With a smile of your own, you took his hand and let him pull you in close. His fingers laced together with yours while his other arm wrapped around your middle and your free hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Hey, you can dance," he teased when you fell into rhythm with him effortlessly.

"Of course I can dance," you said, rolling your eyes. Being that close to him, you could smell his aftershave, the whiskey on his breath, and a faint hint of cigarette smoke from earlier. The smell you had unknowingly grown to love. The smell that was, simply put, Javier.

You gazed up at him, smiling at the little pink tinting his cheeks and the glassy look in his eye. He looked so fucking adorable it almost pained you.

"Can I ask you something, Javi?" you asked quietly. His eyes softened at your tone and he nodded. "Why were you so mad earlier when I was talking to Steve? Really?"

The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes flickered somewhere behind you as he considered his answer.

"I think you know why."

When he looked back down at you, the playfulness was gone. His eyes carried something else in them. Something he couldn't bring himself to say. Then your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat when you saw it. The look you had been aching to see from him for years. The same look you were giving him at the very same time.

And then it hit you. Yeah, you knew why.

It turned out Javier was much more popular at work than you ever expected. You had spent the rest of your dance trying to come up with the right thing to say, but you panicked and lost your chance when Javier's boss nudged his shoulder while dancing with his wife. The four of you fell into a conversation - the men about work, you and his boss's wife about Christmas bargains - in the middle of the dance floor. When you realized you were in the way, the conversation moved to the bar. After that, an investigator joined in the conversation with her girlfriend and before you knew it, it was nearly midnight and the moment you had with Javi on the dance floor was long forgotten.

Or so you thought.

It had been a long night. You were exhausted and your feet ached from the new shoes you picked out to match your dress. You had hoped to possibly find an opening and talk to Javi about what you thought he implied during your dance, but while you were waiting for him to wash up, you passed out cold.

One thing you knew for certain was you were on your side of the bed when you fell asleep. You knew that because your side faced the bathroom and you had rolled over to wait for Javi before you fell asleep. However, you couldn't explain why you woke up around three in the morning with your cheek resting on his shoulder and your arm wrapped around his waist.

Well, maybe you could explain it. It was probably your subconscious trying to seek him out after spending the evening being so close to him. No matter the reason, you knew you had to sneak back to your side of the bed before he woke up, so you slowly began to extract your arm.

"Where're you goin'?" Javi murmured sleepily. Your eyes widened and your heart began to race.

"Nowhere, just go back to sleep," you whispered, pulling your arm away. Just as you were about to roll over, Javi's hand shot out to grab your wrist. You froze, cheek still pressed against his shoulder, and slowly lifted your eyes up to meet his.

It was hard to see in the dark, but from what you could tell, he was wide awake. His dark brown eyes continued to study your face while you fumbled for words.

"Javi?" you said, voice sounding so small in the quiet room. His eyes flickered anxiously between yours for another moment before he came to his decision. In one quick movement, he had rolled you onto your back, his hips fitting perfectly between your legs as he caged you in.

"Javi," you said again, although this time sounding far more breathless and aroused than you intended.

He swallowed tightly, gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips before he whispered, "Do you feel it too, cariño?"

You shifted underneath him, eyelids fluttering when you felt his arousal pressing up against the inside of your thigh.

"Yes," you whispered back.

His mouth crashed against yours in an instant. It was rougher than you expected it to be but you didn't mind. You understood because you felt it, too. All that time wasted, dancing around something that was right in front of you the entire time. It was bound to drive anyone a little crazy, a little hungry.

Before you knew it, your fingers were in his hair, dragging down his shoulders, and then tugging at his shirt, and all the while his mouth remained cemented against yours. He had to pull away to yank his white tshirt over his head and you heard yourself make a pathetic little noise, like you couldn't possibly survive without his kiss, not even for one second.

"Take this off," he panted, lifting your oversized shirt halfway up your torso. You didn't need to be told twice. You flung it off and pulled Javier back down before he even had a chance to take a good look at your bare chest.

Everything was moving so fast but given the amount of time it took you to get there, it felt like a fucking eternity. He expertly tugged your shorts and underwear off while your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. It wasn't even until you felt his fingers brush against your cunt that you realized you were entirely undressed.

"Oh, god... Javi!" you cried out brokenly when he slipped two fingers inside of you.

His mouth fell to your chin and he made a strangled sound, curling his fingers when he said, "Fuck, baby, when you say my name like that..."

His hand maintained a steady rhythm between your legs, reaching for that spot that made your back curl off the bed every time he thrusted inside. His other hand got lost in your hair, tipping your face so he could feverishly lock his lips with yours while dragging your first orgasm to the surface with a few circles over your sensitive clit.

"Javi! Wait... I'm gonna - I'm gonna come -" you gasped, unable to stop your hips from rolling up and meeting his hand.

"Go ahead, hermosa. I got you."

"No," you whimpered, muscles going tense. You were getting to the point of no return and you needed to stop him. "I wanna - I want you to fuck me, Javi. I - I wanna -"

Your head fell back into the pillow, unable to complete your sentence.

"I am. I'm gonna fuck you," he assured you, lips ghosting the shell of your ear and wrist snapping faster between your thighs. "I'll make you come on my cock, don't worry, baby. Just let go, c'mon, you can do that for me, right?"

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck, fuck, fu- yes, Javi, yes! More... please-"

"Christ, cariño, you're gonna wake the whole fucking hotel," he chuckled, but you were too far gone to care. You tilted your chin to the ceiling, his name echoing off the walls as you came. It felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest, like your legs were so weak you may never walk again, yet somehow it wasn't enough. Not for either of you. In fact, it only seemed to make you each more desperate.

Your kisses on his skin became messy, both of you so eager to have the other that there was no room to worry about being too fast or abrasive. Your teeth clashed together when your arm curved around his neck, yanking him down to your level. Your shared hot breaths mingled with each pant and gasp. When you reached down to wrap your fingers around the heavy weight of his cock, he moaned into your open mouth and slid his fingers from your pussy so you could line him up with your entrance, neither of you in any mood to wait a second longer.

"Fu-uck," he groaned when he pushed inside of you, burying himself to the hilt in one go. You gasped and sharply bit down on his shoulder when tears sprung up and threatened to spill down your cheeks.

"You okay?" he panted, planting weak kisses against the side of your face. All you could do was nod. He filled you and stretched you so perfectly that it took your breath away and left you speechless. He nodded, too, lips parted as he puffed for air, then began to rock his hips. Slow at first, then steady and deep.

"Javi," you moaned in his ear, sending a shiver through his body. "Shit, just like that. Oh my god, Javi, just like that!"

Javier smirked into your shoulder, fucking you with deep, long strokes as you continued to fill the room with your cries and moans.

"Never thought you'd be so goddamn loud, baby," he teased, nipping playfully at your shoulder.

"Sorry," you whined into the air. Your jaw was clenched tight, fingers clawing uselessly at his broad shoulders while he continued to pump in and out a little bit harder, a little bit faster, setting loose one of the tears that welled up in your eyes.

"Don't be sorry, I fucking love it," he groaned. He lifted himself up so he could watch your face contort with each devastating thrust. "Fucking love how you say my name. Dreamed about it for so long, you have no idea-"

"Me, too," you moaned, a second tear trickling down your cheek. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him tightly as he began to fuck you faster. His eyes flickered down to your bare chest, breasts bouncing from the force of his thrusts. Craning his neck down, he latched onto one with a groan, teeth grazing enticingly over your nipple before sucking the other one into his mouth.

"God, you're so perfect," he mumbled into the space between your breasts. "So fucking perfect, hermosa. Drove me fucking crazy all night."

Your heart stuttered before grabbing the sides of his head and pulling him up for a deep kiss. Every time he slammed inside of you, it had you seeing stars. You felt completely at his mercy, unable to think about anything else except him, him, him.

"Tell me you want more," he demanded, pulling away from your kiss so he could look you in the eye. His eyes were blown wide with lust and a few dark hairs were beginning to stick to his forehead, the image so captivating that he had you nodding dumbly to his request.

"Yes, Javi, please," you moaned, "more, please, fuck me-"

"No, I mean-"

His hips slowed and he cupped your face, chest heaving and lips parted for air as he stared down at you imploringly. "I mean, tell me you want more than just tonight. Tell me there's something else here."

You blinked rapidly and nodded, stunned he would even have to ask when you had always been the one to prefer relationships. Hardly trusting yourself to speak, you whispered, "Yeah. I want more than just tonight. I want more than just this."

A smile stretched across his face right before he lunged down to capture your lips with his own. His hips resumed their pace, snapping steadily into you and pushing you higher and higher until you stiffened and cried out his name.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, shit," he muttered, hips stuttering against you, his name still tumbling from your mouth as the last of your orgasm rippled through your body. "Baby - look at me," he begged, and it wasn't until that moment you realized your eyelids had even shut.

Tiredly, you opened your eyes to gaze up at him. The way he was looking at you caused a lump to form in your throat and you had to suppress a shiver. It was too intense all of the sudden, the air thickening between you in a matter of seconds.

"Come for me, Javi," you murmured lowly. You brought a shaky hand up to card through his damp hair, watching as his eyebrows pinched and his chin dropped, pulling out of you quickly and sitting back on his heels to fist his cock. Your hand fell back to the cool sheets beside you, unable to look away. He was hunched above you, one fist pressed into the mattress and the other jerking himself off until he stilled with a deep groan, painting your stomach with his sticky release. You couldn't even let yourself blink, doing your best to commit every detail to memory until he collapsed next to you with a heavy sigh.

"Fucking Christ," he grumbled, forearm tossed over his eyes. You giggled, face warming when you heard how raspy you sounded. Javier removed his arm and turned his head to look at you with a lopsided grin.

"You're a screamer, hermosa."

"Javi!" you cried out softly, but your broken voice only further proved his argument. He chuckled and rolled onto his side to push some hair away from your eyes.

"I was expecting a phone call from the front desk ten minutes ago."

"Shut up, Javi!" you whined, covering your face with your palms.

"Don't be embarrassed, baby, I love it," he said while pulling your hands away. You bit your lip and peered up at him, searching his face for any sign of regret and finding none. Then his face softened and he swallowed nervously before adding, "I'm in love with you."

He said it so quietly, so sweetly, that it had you wondering if you were hearing things. But then you saw the anxious look in his eye and your pulse skyrocketed.

"Really?" you asked in disbelief. Slowly, he nodded.

"Yeah. I think I've been in love with you for a while," he admitted, tracing an invisible line down your cheek.

You laughed and two fresh tears fell when you said, "I love you, too."

His mouth crashed against yours in relief and you wrapped your arms around his neck, matching smiles pressing together in stunned happiness.

"I'm sorry I wasted so much time and didn't tell you sooner," he murmured while stroking your hair.

"It doesn't matter," you replied, "we have each other now."

Javi smiled and kissed the tip of your nose.

"So, now what?" he asked.

"Now? Now I would really like to take a shower," you said, then grinned when you added, "and maybe in the morning we can do this all over again."

He laughed and rolled to his side so you could get out of bed. When his eyes locked onto your ass as you made your way to the bathroom in the dark, he flung the covers off and leapt out of bed to follow you.

"I think we're gonna need a late check out."

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[solxamber]

Choose Us!

In which you have to decide on a dorm to become part of.

Part 2: You choose the dorm

"You're serious?" you blink at Crowley, half-expecting Grim to wake you up from this fever dream. "I can move into any dorm?"

Crowley clasps his hands together with a benevolent smile that doesn't quite match his usual dramatic flair. "Indeed, my dear prefect! It's the least I can do to ensure your safety and comfort!"

Grim looks up from where he’s gnawing on a suspiciously burnt sofa leg. "Wait, what about me?!"

"You’ll go where the prefect goes, naturally," Crowley waves off Grim’s protests. "Now, chop-chop! Let me know your decision by the end of the day."

And just like that, he floats out of Ramshackle, leaving you standing in the middle of the chaos.

Heartslabyul

The second you hit send in the group chat, you regret everything. Ace and Deuce don’t even wait for you to explain. Within minutes, they’re barging into Ramshackle like the Kool-Aid Man.

“Heartslabyul!” Ace yells, grabbing one of your arms.

“Obviously Heartslabyul!” Deuce hollers, seizing the other.

“I haven’t even decided—”

“Blasphemy!” Ace gasps, as if you’d just insulted his mother. “We’re your best friends, how could you even think about choosing another dorm?”

Deuce nods fervently, dragging you toward the door. “Heartslabyul’s clean! Organized! You’d thrive there!”

"And the desserts!" Ace adds. "Think of the desserts!"

Before you know it, you're shoved into Heartslabyul’s rose garden, where Riddle is waiting with the most extravagant tea party setup you’ve ever seen. There’s a towering cake, delicate pastries, and enough tea to drown Grim.

“I thought you might need proper refreshments while considering your options,” Riddle says, adjusting his posture like he isn’t secretly trying to sway you. “Of course, I have no preference where you go. I’m merely concerned for your well-being.”

Trey hands you a plate with the biggest, most immaculate slice of cake you’ve ever seen. “You’d fit right in here, you know,” he says kindly. “We’re all about structure and care… and good desserts.”

"Plus," Cater slides in with a grin, “imagine all the cool pics we could take together! #DormGoals, am I right? You and me chilling in Heartslabyul, like, all the time?”

Riddle clears his throat loudly. “This isn’t about favoritism, mind you. But if you were to choose Heartslabyul, you’d be part of a dorm that values discipline and respect for the rules.”

Ace nudges you with a smirk. “Ignore him. Just think of all the times I’ll sneak you extra tarts.”

You glance around at the hopeful stares. Grim’s already halfway into a tart he snatched off the table. “I feel like I’m being ambushed.”

“Oh, you are,” Ace says shamelessly.

Savanaclaw

You stumble out of the Heartslabyul tea party, feeling like you’ve consumed enough sugar to fuel a small country. Before you can even catch your breath, a shadow looms over you, and suddenly, you're hoisted into the air like a sack of potatoes.

“What the—JACK?!” you squawk, flailing as he throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing.

“You’re coming with me,” Jack grunts, completely unfazed by your protests. “You need to see why Savanaclaw is the best dorm for you.”

“I can walk, you know!” you huff, punching his back.

He ignores you. “Not fast enough.”

By the time he sets you down, you’re in the middle of Savanaclaw’s common area, where Ruggie is lounging on one of the couches, counting a suspiciously thick wad of cash. Leona’s sprawled out nearby, pretending to nap, though his ears twitch at the sound of your arrival.

Ruggie grins as soon as he spots you. “Ah, perfect timing! I was just telling Leona how we could totally use someone like you here. Right, boss?”

Leona cracks one eye open and yawns, his tone dripping with disinterest. “Tch. Don’t care. They can do whatever they want.”

“That’s funny,” Ruggie says, nudging Leona hard enough to make him growl, “’cause I distinctly remember you saying—and I quote—‘If they don’t pick Savanaclaw, everyone else can rot.’”

Leona sits up, glaring daggers at Ruggie. “I said no such thing.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Ruggie snickers before turning back to you, his grin as wide as a hyena’s. “Anyway, check this out. Leona generously donated some funds to help you... you know, see the light.”

He shoves the wad of cash into your hands. You blink at it. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Whatever you want! Snacks, clothes, bribes for your annoying friends in Heartslabyul…”

Leona groans and drags a hand down his face. “You’re making us look desperate.”

“We? Speak for yourself, Your Highness.” Ruggie winks at you. “He’s just mad ‘cause he doesn’t know how to be subtle.”

Leona slouches further into his seat, watching you through half-lidded eyes. “Look, Herbivore, if you wanna be around people who won’t coddle you, Savanaclaw’s where it’s at. We don’t do tea parties here—”

“Obviously,” you mutter, thinking about the claw marks on the furniture.

“—but we’ll actually challenge you to grow stronger. You can’t get that in the other dorms.”

Jack nods. “He’s right. And we’ve got the best training facilities on campus.”

Ruggie waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, training’s cool and all, but let’s focus on what really matters. Free snacks. Awesome vibes. Me.”

Leona rolls his eyes. “You’re going to scare them off.”

You cross your arms, trying to ignore the way Leona’s ears flick every time you shift your weight. “So… are you guys going to bribe me with anything besides money and vibes?”

Leona smirks. “What, isn’t my dazzling personality enough?”

Ruggie snorts. “Oh, sure. That’s totally why people flock to you.”

You can’t help but laugh, and Leona’s eyes soften just a little, though he quickly turns his head like he doesn’t care.

“I’ll think about it,” you say, handing the wad of cash back to Ruggie, who immediately starts recounting it like you’ve stolen some.

“Better think fast,” Leona mutters, though there’s the faintest curve of a smile on his lips.

Octavinelle

As you trudge back to Ramshackle, your brain still processing Savanaclaw’s “recruitment tactics,” a pair of arms suddenly wrap around you, lifting you clean off the ground.

“Shrimpy!” Floyd crows, spinning you around like you’re a prize he just won at a carnival.

“FLOYD! Put me down!” you shout, flailing uselessly in his grip.

“Nah, I got orders,” he says, grinning ear to ear as he hauls you off toward the Mostro Lounge.

By the time you’re unceremoniously deposited (read: still stuck in Floyd’s arms like a glorified teddy bear), you’re face-to-face with Azul and Jade, both of whom look way too pleased with themselves.

“Ah, perfect timing!” Azul says, standing up from his chair with his signature business smile. “We’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Have a seat!”

“I would if Floyd let me down,” you deadpan, glaring at the tall eel holding you like a sack of seaweed.

“Nah, you’re comfy,” Floyd chirps, tightening his grip as if daring you to try escaping.

Azul clears his throat, pulling out a scroll of parchment that looks suspiciously like a contract. “Ahem. Now, as I was saying—let’s discuss the many benefits of joining Octavinelle. For starters, we pride ourselves on being a dorm of intellect and resourcefulness. Here, you’ll have access to unmatched networking opportunities, a plethora of unique beverages crafted by Jade himself, and—should you agree—my personal mentorship in matters of… negotiation.”

He flashes you a grin that screams, This is totally not suspicious at all.

Jade slides a glass of something shimmering and iridescent across the table toward you. “I would be delighted to name you our official taste tester. Imagine the prestige of being the first to try all my… experimental creations.”

You eye the drink like it might explode. “Define ‘experimental.’”

Jade smiles serenely. “You’ll find out.”

“Don’t be shy, Shrimpy!” Floyd chimes in, shifting you in his arms so you’re now sitting sideways like some sort of royal guest. “You’d have so much fun here. We’ve got good food, good drinks, and me.”

Azul adjusts his glasses, sliding the contract closer to you. “And, of course, we’ve prepared a special position for you. All you have to do is sign right here, and Octavinelle will officially welcome you as our newest member.”

You glance at the contract, then at the three of them—Azul’s scheming smile, Jade’s unsettling calmness, and Floyd’s unnervingly enthusiastic grin.

“I feel like this is a trap,” you say.

“It’s not a trap,” Floyd says immediately, which makes you even more suspicious.

Azul leans forward, steepling his fingers. “I assure you, everything is perfectly legitimate. Now, shall we seal the deal?”

“Or,” you say, leaning back as far as Floyd’s grip will allow, “I could not.”

Jade hums thoughtfully, handing you another drink. “At least try the beverages before you decide.”

Azul smirks. “I’m sure a sip or two will convince you.”

You glance at the drink, then back at Azul. “Is this bribery?”

“It’s persuasion,” he corrects smoothly.

“Same thing.”

Floyd suddenly squeezes you tight, grinning down at you. “C’mon, Shrimpy. Just say yes already! I’ll carry you everywhere. Betcha Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw didn’t offer that.”

You sigh, resting your head in your hands. This was going to be a long night.

Scarabia

You barely make it out of Octavinelle alive (or at least with your dignity and soul intact) when you’re immediately ambushed again.

“Prefect!” Kalim’s voice rings out, and before you can even process the sound, you’re being yanked into a whirlwind of color, music, and… is that confetti?

You blink as Scarabia's lounge comes into view, transformed into what can only be described as a full-blown festival. Tables are piled high with food, lanterns glow in warm hues, and cheerful music fills the air.

“Surprise!” Kalim grins, throwing his arms wide like he just gifted you the world. “Welcome to Scarabia! We threw a party just for you!”

“A… party?” you repeat, still trying to figure out how you got here so fast.

“Yep!” Kalim grabs your hands, his golden eyes shining with pure, unfiltered excitement. “I thought, ‘What’s the best way to convince you to join us?’ And then I thought, ‘A party! Everyone loves parties!’”

Before you can respond, a plate stacked with delicious-looking food appears in front of you, courtesy of none other than Jamil.

“Eat,” he says simply, pushing the plate closer.

“Oh, uh, thanks?” you mumble, picking up a fork.

Jamil nods, then leans in slightly, his voice low and almost conspiratorial. “This is just a taste of what Scarabia has to offer. Stick around, and I’ll make sure you’re well-fed every day. Properly fed.”

You pause mid-bite, noticing the way he emphasizes the word “properly,” like he knows exactly how many instant noodles you’ve been living off of.

Kalim, meanwhile, is still giving you the most devastating puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. “You’ll join, right? We’d have so much fun together! And think of all the parties we could throw! Oh, and I can get you anything you want! Name it, and it’s yours!”

You glance between Kalim’s hopeful grin and Jamil’s subtle but persuasive bribes.

Jamil catches your hesitation and sighs, placing yet another dish in front of you. “Look, I’ll even help you stay on top of your work. You’re clearly the type who needs someone dependable around.”

“Hey!” you protest, only for him to raise an eyebrow as if to say, Am I wrong?

“Please?” Kalim chimes in, practically bouncing in place. “It’ll be so much fun! And I really, really want you to join. Scarabia would be perfect for you!”

You groan internally, stuffing another bite of food into your mouth just to avoid answering. Between Kalim’s overwhelming enthusiasm and Jamil’s quiet determination, you’re starting to think Scarabia might actually succeed in breaking your will.

You’re doomed. Aren’t you?

Pomefiore

You stumble out of Scarabia, clutching your overstuffed stomach and wondering how you’ve made it this far without officially losing your sanity. Taking the long way around campus to avoid any more ambushes seems like the best idea—you’ve had enough dorm propaganda for one day.

Or so you thought.

You’re halfway through the forest, breathing a sigh of relief at the quiet, when—

“Bonjour, mon cher trésor!”

You shriek as Rook appears out of thin air. Where did he even come from? Why is there sparkly lighting behind him? Is this even allowed?

“Rook! What—what are you doing here?!”

“Ah, I see you were clever enough to evade the others,” he says, ignoring your question entirely. “But you cannot escape me, the hunter of beauty! Pomefiore awaits, mon ami!”

Before you can protest, he’s scooped you up bridal style and is sprinting through the forest with unnatural speed, his laughter echoing ominously.

“This isn’t fair! You’re cheating!” you yell, flailing helplessly.

“All’s fair in love, war, and dorm recruitment, non?”

You soon find yourself unceremoniously plopped down in the middle of Pomefiore’s lounge. Vil is waiting with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression, though the way his foot taps against the floor suggests he’s less than pleased.

“Honestly,” Vil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Was the theatrics really necessary, Rook?”

“Always,” Rook replies with a wink.

Epel is off to the side, clearly trying not to laugh at your predicament while casually carving an apple.

“Well,” Vil says, straightening his posture and fixing you with a regal gaze. “I’ve heard about this… situation of yours. Joining Pomefiore would be the obvious choice. After all, we are the epitome of elegance and refinement. It would be a privilege for you to stay here, and I might even be able to do something about your… appearance.”

You blink. "What's wrong with my appearance?”

Vil waves a hand dismissively. “Nothing I can’t fix. Consider it a favor.”

Epel, meanwhile, sidles up next to you, whispering conspiratorially “Don’t listen to him. He’s just tryna butter you up. But, uh… you should totally join Pomefiore anyway. Look, I brought you some fresh juice from Harveston. And this apple.”

You glance at the carved apple he’s offering. It’s shaped like a little heart.

“Epel,” Vil scolds, glaring at him. “Stop bribing them. That’s hardly dignified.”

“Well, it’s working, isn’t it?” Epel shoots back, crossing his arms. “I just think we need someone who’ll actually get how hard it is to survive your routines. And they seem cool. So there.”

You feel your brain short-circuiting as Vil and Epel start bickering in front of you. Rook stands off to the side, watching with sparkling eyes like he’s witnessing a masterpiece.

Somehow, you feel like this is still less stressful than Scarabia. But only barely.

Ignihyde

You somehow manage to escape Pomefiore in one piece, though your mind feels like it’s been through a blender. You’re determined to finally make it back to Ramshackle without incident when—

“Prefect!”

You freeze mid-step as Ortho zooms into view, his boosters glowing bright blue. Before you can even blink, he grabs your arm with surprising strength.

“Ignihyde is next!” he announces cheerfully, starting to lift you off the ground.

“Wait, wait!” you shout, flailing. “I can walk! Please, I’ve been carried around like a stolen handbag all day!”

Ortho tilts his head, his LED eyes flickering. “Oh… okay! As long as you promise to come willingly!”

You nod frantically. “I promise! Just no more flying, please.”

Satisfied, Ortho takes your hand and leads you to Ignihyde. The journey is mercifully uneventful, though you can feel your soul leaving your body as you realize what’s waiting for you inside.

Sure enough, Idia is hunched over in the corner of the lounge, a laptop balanced precariously on a stack of game boxes. The moment you enter, the screen lights up with a title slide: “Top 10 Reasons Why You Should Join Ignihyde” in bold, glowing text.

“Oh, you’re here,” Idia mutters, adjusting his hoodie nervously. His hair flickers faintly pink at the tips. “Uh, okay, so—yeah, uh—welcome? Or whatever. Let’s, um, get this over with.”

He clicks to the first slide, which is an overwhelming wall of text filled with bullet points, charts, and what looks like a meme of a cat wearing glasses.

“Reason number one,” Idia starts, stumbling over his words. “Um, we’re quiet? Like, no loud parties or annoying socializing. Uh… unless you count Ortho, but, uh, he’s not that bad. And you can play games as much as you want. Or watch anime. Or—uh—just chill. Yeah.”

Ortho, standing nearby, nods enthusiastically. “Ignihyde is perfect for you! And Brother worked really hard on this presentation!”

You glance at Idia, who’s clearly fighting for his life to make eye contact with you. He clicks to the next slide, which is just a stock photo of a cozy room.

“Reason number two,” he continues. “We, uh, have good Wi-Fi? Like, really good. You could stream in 4K if you wanted to. Not that you’d want to. Or maybe you would? Uh… I dunno. Anyway.”

His hair flickers a deeper pink, and he clicks to the next slide. It’s a crudely edited photo of you and him standing next to each other in front of a glowing Ignihyde logo. You’re not sure whether to be impressed or deeply concerned.

He glances at you, his expression oddly hopeful. “So, uh… what do you think?”

You can feel Ortho practically vibrating next to you, his bright smile threatening to blind you. Meanwhile, Idia is trying (and failing) to look indifferent, but the way his fingers tap anxiously on the laptop betrays him.

“I’ll… think about it,” you say carefully, not having the heart to crush Idia’s dreams outright.

His hair sparks bright pink for a split second before he slams the laptop shut, muttering something about “overheating processors” and “input overload.”

Ortho cheers. “Yay! I knew you’d see how great we are!”

You manage a weak smile, already planning your escape route.

Diasomnia

You’re so close—so, so close—to finally making it back to Ramshackle when the universe decides to remind you that peace is but a fleeting dream.

“Ah, there you are!”

You barely have time to scream before Lilia literally materializes out of thin air, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you into a swirling vortex of green light.

“Wait, NO—”

Too late. You’re already standing in the middle of Diasomnia’s lounge, disoriented and ready to file a restraining order against anyone with teleportation magic.

Malleus looks up from where he’s seated, eyebrows raising slightly. “Child of man? What brings you here?”

“Great news, Malleus!” Lilia chirps, dropping you onto the couch like a sack of potatoes. “They’re choosing a dorm to transfer to, and we couldn’t possibly let them pick anywhere but Diasomnia!”

Malleus freezes, his eyes wide with surprise, before his expression shifts into one of regal determination. He rises from his seat, his imposing height making you feel like a pebble in the presence of a mountain.

“Is this true?” he asks, his voice deep and serious. “You’re choosing a new dorm?”

“Uh, yeah, but—”

“Then it must be Diasomnia.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “Here, you will be protected. No harm shall come to you under my watch. And…” He pauses, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “I have a gargoyle in my room. A fine specimen. You would enjoy its company.”

You blink. “...A gargoyle?”

“Yes,” Malleus says with absolute sincerity, as though that’s the most convincing argument in the world.

Before you can process that, Sebek practically throws himself to the floor in front of you, bowing with the intensity of a knight swearing fealty.

“Human!” he bellows. “You must choose Diasomnia! To live anywhere else would be an insult to the Young Master’s unparalleled grace and power! Surely, you can see this is the only logical choice!”

“Sebek,” Silver mumbles from his spot on the couch, not even bothering to open his eyes. “Maybe let them decide for themselves.”

“But, Silver!” Sebek protests, his voice trembling with the sheer force of his conviction. “The honor! The prestige!”

Meanwhile, Lilia floats into view, holding a plate of… something. “Don’t worry about dinner, dear. I’ve prepared a feast for you! Go on, take a bite.”

You stare at the plate. It looks like it might be alive. “I’m… good, thanks.”

“Nonsense! You need to keep your strength up!” Lilia insists, thrusting the plate closer to your face.

Silver sighs, finally sitting up. “You should just do what feels right,” he says, offering you a calm, reassuring smile. “Don’t let them pressure you.”

You glance between Malleus’s earnest expression, Sebek’s passionate pleas, and Lilia’s… questionable cooking. Your stomach growls, but you’re not sure if it’s hunger or the beginnings of a panic attack.

One thing’s for sure: if you survive this day, you’re going to need therapy.

The sun is setting by the time you finally drag your aching body back to Ramshackle. The dorm looms ahead, creaky and crumbling, but for once, it feels like a safe haven compared to the dorm-hopping marathon you just survived.

As you step inside, you’re greeted by the unmistakable voice of your ever-demanding feline companion. “There you are! What took ya so long? I’ve been waitin’ forever!”

Grim is sprawled on the couch, a can of tuna already half-empty beside him. He squints at you suspiciously. “So? Which dorm are we movin’ to?”

You groan, flopping face-first onto the nearest piece of semi-clean furniture. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“What?!” Grim squawks, leaping onto the armrest beside you. “What do ya mean you haven’t decided? This is important! We gotta pick one where I can get the most tuna, y’know?”

You tilt your head just enough to glare at him. “Oh, sure. Let me just base my entire living situation on your snack preferences.”

Grim puffs up, indignant. “Hey! I’ve been puttin’ up with this dump longer than anyone! I deserve to have a say!”

You sigh, the weight of the day finally catching up to you. Somehow, Grim being his usual self is oddly comforting after everything. No bribes, no PowerPoints, no gargoyle sales pitches—just Grim being Grim.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” you mumble, your voice muffled by the cushion. “I’m too tired to think.”

Grim eyes you for a moment before huffing. “Fine. But don’t take too long, got it? I’m not stickin’ around this dump forever!”

With that, he hops off to raid the kitchen, leaving you alone to sink further into the furniture. You stare at the ceiling, your brain too fried to process anything else.

Tomorrow. You’ll deal with it tomorrow. For now, all you want is to sleep in your creaky, drafty old dorm. At least here, no one’s trying to kidnap you.

Masterlist

[obsessedwithceleste]

Til It’s Gone

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this cute lil request 🤗

Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.

“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.

Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.

“Theo.”

“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.

Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.

The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.

“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”

“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.

Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.

“Theo?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.

He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.

“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.

Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.

“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”

The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.

“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.

They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.

The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.

Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.

“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”

“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.

Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.

“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.

“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.

“It’s Theo.”

“That’s what I said.”

You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.

Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.

It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.

You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.

Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.

That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.

The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.

“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.

The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.

Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.

“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.

Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.

“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.

“Oh fuck off you two.”

Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.

“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”

“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”

“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”

“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”

With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.

Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.

For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.

It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.

Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.

And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.

It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.

It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.

“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.

It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.

The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.

“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.

“Theodore?”

Theo glares at the use of the name.

“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.

With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.

“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.

“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”

"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.

"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."

Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.

As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.

It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.

But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.

Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.

“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”

A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.

“Just a special friend,” you reply.

After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.

Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.

After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.

There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.

Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.

You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.

“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.

With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.

With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.

“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.

You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.

“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.

“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.

To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.

"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."

"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."

"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.

You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.

Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"

"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.

"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.

"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.

"I think I can have that arranged."

Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽

[steddieas-shegoes]

“any regrets? anything you’d do differently?”

eddie knows the interviewer is just doing her job, probably doesn’t even realize that’s the worst question she could ask. but the guys tense and the air gets thick and something shifts inside eddie’s chest.

“it’s been two years and i still haven’t apologized.”

the interviewer doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about, but she doesn’t need to. he’s not gonna explain more than that and he doesn’t care if people make their own connections and excuses.

maybe steve will hear it. maybe robin will. maybe dustin will convince steve to call him.

or maybe he was cryptic for nothing and steve will keep ignoring his calls. he used to think his timing sucked until mike let it slip that he lets all calls go to his answering machine to avoid picking up when eddie calls him.

eddie only calls on bad nights, if he’s drunk or high, or sometimes on the nights that could only be better if steve was by his side. eddie calls most nights.

the interview is done and eddie is being whisked away, getting berated by their publicist about his answer to a question that can never have a good one. the guys are pretending not to listen, but failing. eddie loves them for trying.

the next interview, he stays quiet, at least as much as he can get away with. he fakes a smile, a laugh, whatever it takes to seem like he didn’t just admit that he fucked up on live television.

they get to sleep in their own beds tonight, but tomorrow is the start of their radio show tour to promote their album. it’ll be two weeks long, hitting the major stations daily until they’ve answered all the hard hitting questions like if gareth snores or if they ever find time to eat healthy on tour.

but his bed is his least favorite place to sleep, and no amount of tossing and turning is gonna give him what he needs.

so he calls steve.

“harrington’s house, you’ve reached the harrington who actually lives here.”

eddie’s so shocked that steve answered he barely even registers his words.

“hello?” steve’s voice turns serious. “anyone there?”

“stevie?”

eddie shouldn’t have started with that, but he wasn’t in control of his body anymore.

steve hangs up.

somehow it’s worse than if he hadn’t answered at all.

but eddie is fine. he is.

he’s gonna close his eyes and go to sleep and maybe not dream about dying or fucking up the only good thing he ever had.

his phone rings and he’s almost certain he’s dreaming already.

“hello?”

“sorry i panicked.”

steve’s voice is like a reverb in an arena, sending chills down eddie’s arms.

“you’re not the only one.”

“but…you called me.”

“because you never answer.”

“so why call? if i’m never gonna answer.”

“because if you do answer, i can hear your voice.”

steve sits with that answer for a minute before he speaks.

“dustin played me the interview.”

“yeah.”

“was it me? was i your regret?”

how could steve think that? how could the man who saved his life ever believe he was anything less than a gift? in no universe would eddie regret steve.

“no. my regret is making you ever think that you could be a mistake.”

eddie should end it there, let steve marinate with that. he knows no amount of apologies will actually help, but he could give it a try anyway.

“i’m sorry i left when you needed me. i’m sorry i was selfish and chose to get out and leave you behind. and i’m sorry none of my sorries even matter because it’s too late.”

for a minute—yes, eddie counts— there’s silence. and then there’s a small shuffling sound and eddie’s almost sure that steve’s gonna hang up.

instead, steve sounds like he’s holding back tears when he speaks.

“are you gonna come back?”

eddie can’t. he can’t just put a pause on the band or any of their plans. it’s not fair to the guys or the fans or himself.

but he can do something he should’ve done two years ago.

“will you come with me?”

the question hangs in the air for what feels like forever. steve may say no. that’s part of why eddie didn’t even ask the first time. but he may say-

“yes.”

“you will?”

“on one condition.”

“anything.”

“you stop trying to forget all the bad parts. the bad parts sucked, but they brought us together. running from them means running from me. at least hold my hand so i can run with you.”

eddie thinks maybe he could write a song about that.

and he thinks he’d like to hold steve’s hand while he does.

[dalliancekay]

Aziraphale, misogyny and the female character treatment

I don't know if anyone wrote a post about this but I see from time to time comments to this end - that Aziraphale is treated like the female leads in films often are, obviously especially romantic films. So I'm gonna try to point how I see this. I welcome further insights of course.

Say we take a basic premise of a romantic film: A girl is wooed by a bad boy for example. And she is a good girl, from a good, proper family and everything so she refuses his advances. This goes on through his various ploys to entertain and romance her, do things for her etc etc and frustrates us as the audience because we can see the bad boy is actually good, her family is oppressive and holding her back and that she (deep down) cares for him (if only she was brave enough to admit it to herself) and so we want her to open her eyes and say she is actually in love with him cos her life will be so much better should she (finally) give in and run away with him.

Familiar? Reasons Aziraphale is not her and the analogy does not fit (but that I so often see in metas and takes about her):

Aziraphale always knew her family is shit. Or at least longer than Crowley did. She was already anxious in Before the Beginning about what she thought Angel!Crowley could and could not say or do without getting into trouble.

She knows Crowley is good. She never doubted him. Whatever he says or does or pretends to do or must do for his job. Aziraphale knows he's inherently good and would always do good if he can.

She knows she's in love - I mean we can argue about when each realised this and also when each realised the other loves them back just as fiercely, but they both know. And they both love. And they both long to be together. Aziraphale is not ashamed of her feelings nor hiding or suppressing them for fear they are wrong or immoral or other BS like that.

Aziraphale doesn't need to overcome her love for her family/employer and finally make the leap to be with Crowley. They simply can't leave their bosses without punishment. Neither of them. They live in a dictatorship with nowhere to go. And just because Crowley experienced both sides, doesn't give him some huge insight that Aziraphale completely lacks. Both places are awful. Their separation isn’t about fear of societal judgment (or Aziraphale's unwillingness to give up Heaven, being seen as good, being an angel - and to what end, to Fall? I really don't know what takes like this want from her, it would not work anyway), it’s about survival in a system that won’t let them be together.

Aziraphale doesn't want to change Crowley. She never did. She asked for Crowley to come to Heaven as an angel because that was THE ONLY option she had for them to be together in any capacity at that point. It was NOT an attempt to “fix” him—it was a desperate bid for a way they could be together at all.

One thing I don't see as much anymore is the call for Aziraphale to change. Obviously she's pretty but she would be prettier if she lost those century old clothes maybe and started listening to something made after 1950? Be more cool to match Crowley? Less stuffy?

These kind of film premises are already pointless, offensive and make me roll my eyes, but to stick them all over Aziraphale and huff cos she doesn't do what the clever sexy man in dark clothes and sunglasses says she should - well that makes me angry.

And so do takes and mischaracterisations that ignore Aziraphale as silly, her worries as pointless, sometimes excessive - maybe she's just hysterical, you know? The one time she shows more emotion, in F15, she is so often completely ignored in her obvious distress just because Crowley is trying to confess his love at the same time and seemingly 'not getting through,' because Aziraphale is not reacting the way everyone expects. So many takes that always assume Crowley is right, no matter what. Even when he calls Aziraphale an idiot. If Crowley says that, it must be true. No matter that the book spells out in Terry's voice that the angel is extremely clever.

Aziraphale’s charm lies in her kindness, her love for books and knowledge, her whimsy, and her quiet courage. These qualities don’t make her naive—they make her resilient. She often hides how she truly feels, hides her grief, her pain, her true desires, hides what she really thinks; always always to protect herself and her beloved. She is often forced to say stuff she doesn't mean. Again. To keep the one she loves and their fragile relationship safe. But where people seem to catch on with that on Crowley's side, they don't with Aziraphale. She is fierce when pushed and will defend the defenceless (humans) and the ones she loves (Crowley) to her last breath (whether she needs to breathe is irrelevant right now okay).

She loves her bookshop. She built this home, full of knowledge for herself and her demon and you can take this HC from my cold hands. That she was forced to leave it, only emphasises how little choice she had in Final 15. Good Omens has two main, equal characters; who are both gorgeous and complex and deep and neither is right or wrong or in need of saving or learning some huge lesson to get to their goal and be together. What needs to change is the world, the system they live in. And they will change it.

Just look at her!! Anyway. I love her. P.S. Just to add, many, many (if not all) bad takes on Aziraphale are also bad takes on Crowley. They mischaracterise and misunderstand just how deeply and unconditionally he loves Aziraphale. How he adores her and understands and accepts her just as she is. He does not expect or want Aziraphale to change in any way. He knows why they are not together. And it's not Aziraphale's fault, it's because of circumstances, not because of her choices. Crowley would never ever want Aziraphale to suffer, he wouldn't expect her to come back from Heaven saying how sorry she is for what happened, how stupid and blind she was and how he was always right. That's just not going to happen. ------------------------------------------ @tenok I simply must highlight the awesomeness you put in hashtags!! EVERYBODY please read:

Thank you sm for this!!

[elllisaaa]

MR. POLICEMAN - C. SEUNGCHEOL

KINKTOBER DAY 14 - AGE DIFFERENCE

SUMMARY : "everybody knows that i'm a good girl, officer" is what you said to him when you got arrested for selling drugs. and despite seungcheol having a wife and kids, he can't help stumbling over his words when you ask to suck his cock in exchange for letting you go.

-> pairing : police officer!seungcheol x fem!reader

-> words count : 1.4k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : age difference (obviously), cheating, mention of drugs, oral (m. receiving), begging, dirty talk, deep throating, face fucking, cum eating, swearing, praising, hair pulling, dacraphylia, use of 'good girl'

+ the way i'm depicting seungcheol does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | svt masterlist | kinktober 2024

“- I didn’t even do anything !

- The marijuana we found in your apartment seems to tell otherwise. If you want advice, you should really confess. The judge is gonna be a lot more lenient if you do as I say.”

A pout formed on your face as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, turning your gaze away from the officer in front of you. If you found the little bastard that had reported you, he was not going to make it out alive, for sure. In your mind, you did nothing wrong. Drugs helped you relax and focus on your writing in a way that your normal state didn’t allow, what was the harm in that ? 

“- It’s not mine, I don’t know why it was there. Everybody knows that I’m a good girl officer.

- I hear these lies at least four times a day, Miss L/N. You should really tell me the truth if you want to avoid a serious sentence.”

But his words were going through one ear and out of the other, your eyes fixed on his face and his attractive features. You must admit that the man was handsome, and that his uniform was suiting him perfectly. He was obviously way older than you, and a framed photograph of his wife and two kids was sitting on his desk. But that wouldn’t deter you from the idea that had formed into your mind. You locked your doe eyes with his again, your crossed arms pushing your boobs together and making them almost spill out of your top. You tried to contain your smirk as the eyes of the officer flickered down to your chest - everything was going according to your plan.

“- Okay… I did have some weed, but it’s only for me and my friends, to relax, you know ? We did nothing wrong…”

You saw him gulp down as you leaned over his desk, hands pressed on the cold wood and your boobs now directly in his line of sight. It was impossible for him to ignore them as they were right in front of his face. But he looked away to his computer, trying to appear busy. Your own eyes roamed around the things scattered on his desk, catching his first name on one of the papers. 

“- Please, Officer Choi… I really don’t want to go to jail, can’t you help a girl who made a mistake ?”

Seungcheol should say no, he should frankly say that he could do nothing about it, that you must understand why you shouldn’t do it again. But the way your fingers were slowly crawling up his arm made his brain malfunction. 

“- I… I can’t do that. It’s illegal.”

It was as if he needed to mention the law because it was the only thing holding him back from giving in to your advances and letting you go. He felt guilty, the ring around his finger seemed like it was burning when he looked at your lips for a little too long. 

“- But, please, I swear I won’t do it again !

- That’s still illegal, there are laws for a reason.”

You pretended to think for a moment as your hand rested on his shoulder, like a reminder of how naughty all the things going through his head at that moment were. 

“- I’ll do whatever you want if you let me go, I can… Repay you in other ways…”

Seungcheol was so unprepared for your bold proposal that he barely even reacted when you dropped to your knees and crawled under his desk until you could settle in between his legs, looking up at him with your hands placed high on his thick thighs. 

“- Let me do something for you, yeah ? And I promise you’ll never hear from me ever again.

- You… Get up, I can't… I can’t let you do that.

- Please, you won’t regret it, I swear.”

Your sugary sweet voice, your big doe eyes and the way your palm was already rubbing against the bulge deforming his crotch were slowly making his resolve crumble. The uniform was only making him hotter, your eyes roaming around the way the muscles of his biceps tensed as he gripped the armrest of his desk chair, his jaw clenching as his gaze got darker. 

“- Please, Officer Choi… I’ll be good, I promise.”

All Seungcheol needed was one more of your begs in that whiny voice for him to give you the green light. A grin stretched out your lips as you pushed his uniform pants down enough to free his cock. You licked your lips at the appealing sight, his length heavy in your hands as you spat on him and started to stroke him at a quick pace, your eyes never leaving his. His lips were parted, his cheeks lightly dusted in pink, and his gaze was filled with lust as you stuck out your tongue to kitten-lick at his tip.

“- Fuck… Take it into your mouth.”

You smiled at him, your ego inflating because you did manage to make him completely give up on his morals. You didn’t make him wait any longer, pushing half of his hard cock in between your lips, slowly working on relaxing your throat enough to take him whole into your mouth. With every inch that met your eager tongue and your warmth, Seungchol's breath became more and more unheavy, the sight of you on your knees for him, doing your best to convince him when he still had the power to send you to prison was delicious. 

“- Shit… You feel so good…”

His praise made you moan around his cock just as his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag and drool even more. You knew that you could get him to let you go if you did good enough, you knew that by the time you would have made him cum, he was going to be unable to keep you there anymore. So you doubled your efforts, bobbing your head up and down as you looked up at the way his face contorted in pleasure, at the way his parted lips were letting out the prettiest groans. His hips bucked up into your mouth, making you whimper and gag again around him, tears welling up in your eyes. 

“- I’m gonna need more than that to let you go, angel. But if you let me fuck your tight, little throat, I might say yes.”

You hummed in approval, bringing one of his hands to the back of your head, letting him tangle his fingers in between your strands of hair. He hesitated for one second - one second that let you enough time to swirl your tongue around his cock in a way that made it impossible for him to hold back anymore. He put your hair up in a messy ponytail, tugging on it to force his cock to the hilt into your throat. The loud gagging noises you produced as he thrusted forward again and again were drowned out by his loud groans and grunts of your name. He shouldn't love what was happening right now, he shouldn't love the way he was bruising your throat, he shouldn't love the way tears were running down your face and ruining your mascara. He shouldn’t but he loved it, he loved it way more than he thought he would. 

Your nails were digging into his thick, muscular thighs as Seungcheol fucked your throat. You could feel his big cock throbbing against your tongue, could feel that he was close. And maybe you shouldn’t love how humiliating this all was, maybe you shouldn’t love the fact that you were about to make this married man cum into your mouth, maybe you shouldn’t love how rough he was, but you did. You did and it encouraged you to hollow your cheeks around him, giving him that last rush of pleasure he needed to shoot his load down your throat. You did your best to swallow his cum, letting go of his cock to take a deep breath. 

And then, you looked up at Seungcheol to find him already looking at you. His thumb came down to swipe up against your bottom lip, gathering the remains of his release to push them back into your mouth, groaning at the way you immediately sucked on his finger, cleaning it off his cum. He patted your cheek, covering it in your saliva.

“- You really are a good girl. You can go.”

Seungcheol made a promise to himself to never ever think about you again, even if your big doe eyes were haunting him day and night. But when he saw you sitting in his office, your hands handcuffed, only a few weeks later, with that same sultry smile and that same lust burning into your eyes, he quickly locked the door behind him, and he stopped thinking as soon as your lips made contact with his cock again.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

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[quietstormxr]

Green Dragon

My first post out to the Tumblr universe. Here’s some angst between you and Xaden.

Let me know what y’all think! And if there should be a part 2!

Part 2

The green dragon, but not your green dragon, have taken residence inside your heart and mind. Never before had you felt threatened in your relationship; however, something seemed to change the minute Violet Sorrengail entered the quadrant. Not only did your friends seem distracted by the girl, but you could feel him peeling away little by little.

As days and months wore on, it seemed that the interest that peaked in him as he withdrew from interest in you. At first, you figured it was the stress of the deal with her mother, then you realized that wasn’t it at all. He stopped visiting. He stopped paying attention to you. He stopped seemingly seeing you at all. To protect yourself, you began to pull away. You thought he would notice, but once threshing passed, it all seemed to be over. Xaden told you that he was just figuring things out due to the mating bond between Sgaeyl and Tairn and his life now being tethered to Violet’s, but it seemed there were more to things.

At that point, you had decided you’d pull back from everyone and see what changed. One night in December, you decided some fresh air was needed and that’s when your heart broke. There he was kissing her. His hands in her hair and pushing her up against a wall. You couldn’t believe the brokenness you felt. He couldn’t even come to you first and end things before moving on. The feelings of worthlessness and nothingness were enveloping you again. Watching the person that had driven those feelings from you drove the despair in deep and fast. The thought that the man you had picked you up from broken pieces could toss you aside so fast was the most heartbreaking thing you had ever experienced. From there on you knew that there was no going back, your relationship was done, and you were done pretending.

The next day, you couldn’t even look anyone in the eye. At breakfast Bodhi and Garrick both asked if you were ok, but you brushed them off and went to class. During class, Eya and Imogen tried to talk, but you just ignored them. Even though you weren’t a marked one, most all your friends were. You knew that since Xaden would never be abandoned, you would now be pushing them all away as well.

Being that Xaden seemed always busy with leadership, the revolution, and now Violet, it seemed you didn’t even have to have “the talk”. At least that is what you were hoping, until one day in January, he showed up at your door. You opened it a crack to see him standing there looking at you expectantly.

“I have nothing to say to you, Xaden.” You told him with a cold certainty.

He looked at you questioningly. You noticed the fight in his eyes, the only place he ever showed his emotions.

“I don’t want to fight with you about this, us, or whatever we were to each other. I know you’ve moved on and I would appreciate it if you would let me do the same.” You said. With that, you shut the door on him and slammed your face in your pillow.

‘It’s ok to protect your heart, Stormy One. I could always maim him in a place that would not anger Sgaeyl.' Cedri states.

‘Thanks for the offer, Cedri, but I’m not sure that would help.’

You were lucky that your dragon, though being a curmudgeon at times, always knew when to push you or comfort. Cedri was always there to bolster you in times of doubt and fear.

The next day, things seemed to change. Imogen, Eya, and even Soleil seemed to distance themselves from you. You didn’t mind, it seemed to make the process of moving on to pick up the pieces easier. It only seemed that they boys didn’t get the memo.

It was obvious that Xaden must have said something, as Garrick seemed to keep staring at you from the leadership table at breakfast. And it was on the way out from breakfast that Bodhi came up to you and asked if he could walk you to class. Due to the overwhelming exhaustion of your own feelings, you just said ok and let him walk you in silence. The most unusual part of the day came when Liam came up to you during dinner and asked if he could sit with you and your squad.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on guard duty, Mairi?” you asked with a look of pure confusion on your face.

“Well, yes. But I was hoping that maybe I could convince you to sit at our table.” He looked with a sheepish grin.

“Thanks, Liam. I think I’ll have to pass on that one.” How could he think that you would want to be anywhere near the girl that took your world away?

He walked away seemingly saddened by your answer, but you just stared back at him in disbelief.

It didn’t make sense that now they all seemed to be interested in what you were doing. You knew that Xaden would have told them what happened, well Garrick at least. Garrick would’ve informed the others.

The next few weeks passed by uneventfully enough. Your world seemed to find a new rhythm now that you had distanced yourself from your marked friends. You started spending more time with your three other squad mates and the change didn’t go unnoticed.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why have you started hanging out with us so much?” asked Nico pointing around the table between himself, Kai, and Iona.

You shrugged your shoulders and said, “Is that not ok?”

“Of course, its ok!” Nico said. “We are all glad you are, but just really wanted to check that everything was alright. You seem to be shutting your other friends out.”

You let out a huff of a laugh and slowly shake your head. “Yeah, that happens when you find out someone cheated on you and then don’t come to you about it.”

Nico looks at you with eyes wide in surprise. Everyone knew that you were in a relationship of sorts, but no one knew who it was with.

“Well if we need to bury a body, you just have to say the words.”

And with that you break out into fits of laughter, the first in months and you can feel four pairs of eyes on your back.

As the weeks passed, you started to get into a new rhythm. You found new sparring partners, friends, and even went on a few dates. You didn’t miss the glances from the boys when they thought you weren’t looking. But the thing that you couldn’t understand was why Xaden would ever be looking.

You were in the middle of studying in the commons with Kai and felt his eyes before even meeting his gaze. The thing that surprised you most was the flash of sadness and, was that jealousy, that crossed his face. You shook your head knowing that you must have dreamt those looks and went back to your books. But that didn’t help the thoughts from swirling.

Why would he be sad? He seemed to have a shiny, new obsession, why would he care what you were doing?

‘Maybe things aren’t really what they seem.’ Cedri states.

‘That may be true, but how would I know when no one has said anything otherwise.’ You retort.

The next few days seemed to drag, but you found yourself feeling lighter than you had in a while. You started getting up for morning runs in the past few days and that seemed to help your mood improve. That was until a week later; you saw Bodhi standing at the wall out of the citadel on your way there for a run.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this morning visit Bodhi?” you question.

“I just wanted to see if we could talk, maybe hang out later? Things have been weird lately between you and everyone and I just wanted to see what was going on.” He explains.

“Did someone put you up to this?”

“No.” He says resolutely with a furrow in his brow. “I just miss hanging out with you and talking. We’ve been friends since we entered this hellhole and I just want to continue that.”

“Fine, we can talk later. Want to meet down by the river after classes today? I could use some fresh air away from the quadrant.”

“Sure, I’ll see you down there.” He says and walks back towards the academic building.

‘If he tries to hurt you, I will make sure Cuir does not have a good evening.’

‘I don’t think that’s Bodhi’s plan, but I know you’ll be there to make sure.’

‘Of course, you do not think I would leave you with those humans after the hurt they’ve inflicted recently.’

‘I would never expect anything less.’

You can hear your dragon ‘harumph’ in a sigh at your confidence.

[sexydoffyman]

Weird request but how would TF141+König and Alejandro react to meeting an orphan around 15 years of age who's like extremely talented in engineering, mathematics and physics, like they could build a rocket if they had the materials ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ It can be HC, whatever you want! I was thinking maybe said orphan got in trouble with the government for unknowingly building some sort of weapon, maybe it was stolen? Twist that however you wish.

Just ignore this ask if you wanna <3

A KID?

genre: action

characters: König, Simon Riley, John MacTavish, Alejandro Vargas, Kyle Garrick

A/n: expect a lot more mistakes. Also thinking this needs a second part.

It’s been 6 years now since the war began. You were left stranded. All by yourself. Left on your own by everyone. Living was hard, but you pulled through. You learned how to do a lot of shit since you were there only with yourself for some time. Building stuff. That was your biggest interest.

You were constantly making things. New weapons mostly. You were always moving, never staying in one place for too long. You got brutal throughout the years you were alone. You took the uniform of a dead soldier. To blend in. You were mistaken for a recruit and pulled inside a helicopter by a military dude.

The military was a great provider of food and healthcare. So you just went along with everything they threw at you. Your knowledge of building shit helped out a lot. And even when some dude figured out you were a kid he let you stay.

The same dude put you in a task force with a man he trusted. You were cautious of everyone in there, but at least you had some people who you could trust a bit.

You picked up how things work from the years of pretending to be a soldier. Pretending to be an adult was getting easier and the task force you were assigned to found a place in your heart.

“There’s gotta be a way.” You finally snapped out of thinking about life before the war. You thought that the military would be a great cover. But now all your hope of making it out alive hit zero. You were stuck and with gas slowly filling the room that you and the others were in you knew your chances of survival were low.

You sat in the corner of the room. You had given up a few minutes ago already. The others were still trying to figure something out.

Suddently you felt something inside of you snap. You were not gonna die today. It must’ve been the panicking of the rough men infront of you that made you have that feeling. You started to search for a solution.

You found a small vent. It was too small to fit a grown man in, but you were not a grown man. You took off your gear and crawled into the vent unnoticed by your team.

You finally got to use the skills you gained. You crawled through the vent and dropped down from the ceiling right on the other side of a door that the rest of your team was trying to open. You managed to get inside some kind of an electrical system. You cut some wires and reconnected some other ones. The door opened with a space in between the doors just a centimeter big.

Grabbing a metal piece from the electrical you prayed the door open. You were met with the looks of your crew. You looked down and put your hand above your forehead to block your face. By now all of them realized that you weren't of age.

You ran into the room to grab your gear while your team gave each other a disgusted glance. “We need to get out of here ASAP,” you said as you walked away from the room. Price grabbed you by the shoulder to stop you. You turned to him with your mask on now.

“How old are you?” he was looking at you worriedly while he said that. You didn’t know what to answer and so after a few stutters you answered “Classified” This only made them feel more curious.

It has been days since that mission and nobody brought up the fact that you were a kid. You did notice that Price stopped shouting orders at you and started just saying them in a normal calm tone. Soap was making more small talk with you than usual. Ghost was staying closer to you, knowing you might not be able to fend off an enemy. Gaz was making sure to double-check your gear.

When you teamed up with Mexican special forces and met Alejandro you were given tasks that you’d be on with multiple people.

When you were stranded from the team, finding your way to a spot they could locate you at, you met another dude. Austrian and huge. Big dude. He was your enemy, but it didn’t take him long to find out that an adult dude would have a little more strength than you did. He forced your mask off and found out that you were in fact a kid.

Instead of killing you, he spared you. Helping you locate your tram instead of them having to look for you.

Would you survive the next missions? That you don’t know. But you do know that you don’t have to worry about pretending to be an adult.

[savannahsdeath]

hii i have a little ellie request. so can we maybe have an enemies to lovers where reader and ellie “hate each other” but in reality ellie just wants to be with reader and she ends up using the strap roughly bc reader didn’t wanna confess after years? (sorry this seems long😭)

i absolutely love this idea omg??

ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

PART1ONE

part 2two

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, 'enemies' to lovers, strap (r!receiving), mean!ellie kinda??, rough!ellie, reader is also mean at first !!

writers note: i love receiving requests like yall are so creative and idkk its just easier to write a req than my own idea🫣🫣 also this turned out to be longer than i expected (my longest fanfic yet!) but even the anon said it seems long so ig thats how its supposed to be🙏

It was another PE lesson you hate so much. It wouldn't be that bad, if not the fact that you're in the same team with Ellie. Ellie fucking Williams.

She would get mad at you for every little mistake you made. You absolutely hated her.

You had to admit she was... pretty. Especially when she had the mix of mad and stern expression on her face. Sometimes you provoked her just to watch her insult every little thing about you she could but you didn't mind. You just sat there with a smirk, sometimes making a mockingly worried face to piss her off even more. Sometimes. Sometimes you weren't in mood for that and you'd actually get offended. Sometimes even hurt. But you couldn't really blame her, that's how it works.

This day, you were literally rescuing your team. Every point was because of you. Every 'that was close' situation was only 'close' because of you. But your luck, or whatever made you win, had to run out eventually. You missed one time.

"What happened? Got holes in your hands? Tired? Not so good anymore?" Ellie asked you with that mocking tone.

Everyone ignored your interaction - they knew what's starting and they didn't want to get involved in that.

"I've done pretty much everything for this team, and the only thing you do is complain, Williams." You said and you could feel your temper rising.

Ellie didn't hesitate to respond to that.

"Well at least I don't do a half-ass job like you. You're really so full of yourself, aren't you? Why not just give up and let someone actually capable take over, huh?" She barked sarcastically.

The other team members didn't even try to hide their excitement now, they just sat back and enjoyed the show, even the teacher was having a hard time holding back the grin on his face whenever Ellie came up with a new insult.

And now, there was no going back.

"Oh, I'm sorry Williams, did your precious little ego get hurt from that? Are my skills threatening your so-called pride? Well if you don't like it, suck it up." You shot back.

If this kept up, you were going to end up with another detention for sure. Everyone knew that you two were like oil and water, but nobody really expected you to get into a shouting match over PE class. Especially, not this early in the morning.

The teacher finally decided that it was enough trouble, and he stepped between the two.

"Ladies, settle down! If you can't figure out how to work well together in a simple PE session, then you'll need more than one detention to figure it out. Go sit down." He ordered, and you two sat down, next to each other.

As if following a silent order, all the other students just went about their business and pretended like nothing had happened.

"You should learn how to shut up sometimes." You said quietly, nervously playing with your fingers.

"You should stop thinking you're so damn important." She snapped back, completely ignoring your advice as she stared at you with the same icy cold look as before.

The teacher came over to the two of you and handed you a form, which you quickly read over. "Maybe it's rough but that's what you both deserve after arguing in every single class. And if that won't help... I don't know what will. Someone will check in on you from time to time, so don't even think about anything, understood?."

In short, the file was saying you'll have spent a month after school doing little school works, like cleaning the gym, with her. It was a frequent way of dealing with problematic students in your school.

You weren't even surprised - the teacher was right. Your little bickers were the main gossip topic and there was no way they'll go unnoticed.

Still, you couldn't help but frown.

"You've got to be kidding me." You muttered under your breath. Spending a month after school doing odd jobs with Ellie was literally the last thing you wanted to do. You knew there was some sort of punishment coming, but this was extreme.

Ellie overheard your muttering, and she rolled her eyes. "It's just a bunch of cleaning, what's wrong, can't handle a little hard work?" She mocked.

"And why are you so happy? Maybe you wished to spend more time with me?" You chuckled, finally looking up at her.

Ellie seemed caught off guard, but she quickly recomposed herself. "Who said I was happy? Sure, I'll love to see you grovel and scrub floors while I sit back and relax." She replied in a sarcastic tone.

You decided to press your advantage, and give Ellie a dose of her own medicine. "Aww, is someone actually admitting that they like spending time with me? I'm so honored." You said with an overdramatized fake fluster.

Ellie didn't even let you finish your sentence before she cut in with her usual sarcastic tone. "Pfff, don't get so ahead of yourself there." She chided. Even then, you could hear some slight annoyance in her voice.

Ellie may have been a jerk, but there was something about her you couldn't help but like. You couldn't explain it, but you liked this banter between the two of you.

Oh, who were you trying to lie to? You liked her. You were just good at hiding it.

You were just about to open your mouth to respond to Ellie's last snarky remark, when you were cut off again.

"Enough."

You both turned to see the teacher staring at the two of you. He sounded more annoyed than before, and you decided it was better to stop your feud before you got in any more trouble.

"You two are already going to spend a month together doing odd jobs. The last thing we need is for you to add another week to that sentence." He warned.

You wanted to say something back, but you decided to shut up before the teacher had to make it worse. You and Ellie just looked at each other for a couple of seconds, before you rolled your eyes and got up from your seat.

After a few more classes, the time of  fulfilling your penalty came. You sat down at the gym benches, waiting for Ellie. You waited, and waited, but no one came.

Ellie was faster than you with getting up. She smirked and said; "Well it's not like you actually had anything worth saying anyway, so it's easier for you." With that parting jab, she walked out of the gym.

You expected something like that from her, so you stood up and a few minutes later you were standing in front of her room. You knocked to the door, patiently waiting for her to answer.

After a few moments, you heard footsteps, before the door finally opened. Ellie stood in front of you, her face as annoyed as ever.

"What do you want?" she grumbled, clearly not in the mood to be bothered right now.

"Uh, hello? We're supposed to be doing the clean-up, remember? You haven't forgotten, right?" You said, trying to stay as polite as you could.

She sighed and motioned for you to come in, clearly not ready to go just yet.

You slowly stepped into Ellie's room, your eyes taking in the decorations and mess. It was clear that this was Ellie's world, but you couldn't help but feel a slight curiosity towards her.

"So, why exactly weren't you at the gym?" You asked, finally breaking the tension. You didn't want her thinking you were here to start another argument.

"I had stuff to do." Was the terse response you were met with, nothing else.

"Yeah, of course." You rolled your eyes. "Your room could use some cleaning too."

Ellie smirked when your tone turned from polite to annoyed when she gave you her response, but you couldn't help but notice that she slightly recoiled when you mention how messy her room was. For someone with such a sharp tongue, she sure wasn't enjoying that same kind of treatment.

"Oh yeah? So maybe we should have you clean my room instead." She shot back.

"Actually, boarding school is still school, so that'd count too." You smirked, not so sarcastically anymore. You'd really rather stay in her room than running all over the building with a mop and dirty cloths.

Ellie raised one eyebrow at your reply, clearly not expecting you to just accept it without some kind of snarky remark or argument.

"Alright then." She replied simply, and she walked over to her bed and started to clear out the clutter. You couldn't really deny that her room was in a pretty messy state.

You explored the room, looking for something to start with.

Just then, near other scattered clothes, you saw feminine underwear. Clearly not hers.

"Um, Ellie..." You laughed. "Who's this?"

She walked up to you, not seeming surprised or embarrased at all. "I dunno. There's lots of girls visiting." She smirked.

You knew the smart thing to do would be just to drop the topic, but your curiosity got the best of you. Just who was Ellie Williams hanging out with?

"Really? And how many of them leave a pair of underwear in your room as a souvenir?" You asked, trying to keep a straight face, but you couldn't help but be amused by the situation.

Ellie just laughed, and you couldn't help but grin at her confidence in that moment.

"If you're asking if I'm dating someone," Ellie said, looking at you with an amused expression, "then no. I wouldn't call it dating."

You knew Ellie was always too stubborn and proud to just admit it normally, so you decided to push her just a little bit further.

"So it's not just a single person then? What's it? A new girl every day?" you asked with a smirk, knowing you'd hit a nerve there.

The slight flicker of annoyance on Ellie's face told you that you'd hit the mark.

"So what if it is? Are you jealous?" She teased in response, just adding fuel to the fire.

Now, she had the smirk on her face, and you just knew you'll regret what you started.

"Not really. Everyone knows you fuck every girl in the school anyways. Well, almost every." You suggestively pointed at yourself. "That's honestly sad. You should focus on one person, don't you think?"

Ellie took this as a challenge, she just couldn't resist it when you made yourself the exception.

"Oh, you think you're a special case? How cute." She snickered, and you couldn't help but feel somewhat pleased with that response after how much you two had been annoying each other for the past month.

"What do you think, should I consider dating you? It seems like you're interested, isn't that why you keep sticking around?" She asked, looking at you, knowing very well what kind of effect her words were gonna have on you.

"Me? Interested? You're the one finding excuses to talk to me every day, even if it's just another argument!" You shook your head and looked down, trying to hide that your smirk turns into a honest smile.

You felt Ellie's eyes studying your face as you tried to hide your genuine happiness, you tried to play it off, but you knew that it wasn't working in your favor. You couldn't even deny it, because it was true, you were interested in Ellie. Maybe not at first, but after spending time together, you grew to like her, her arrogance, her wit, the snarky smile on her face... and her eyes.

"Oh, so you do care!" She quickly cut in, sensing your weakness as your smile grew.

"Come on, don't tell me you've been enjoying this little game of ours, haven't you? Don't you look forward to it every day? Don't you love the adrenaline that kicks in when you're about to say something that's bound to start an argument?" She asked, taking a step closer to you and lowering her voice.

You could almost see the sparks fly as the two of you stared at each other, both feeling the tension in the air. You were almost tempted to take her up on the offer, but your pride got the best of you.

"You're just full of yourself, aren't you? Thinking everybody craves that attention." You said after taking a deep breath.

Ellie just smiled and walked straight to you, getting up close and personal.

"Well, I know you want it. So stop putting up a facade and admit it."

"I'm not like these sluts you fuck, Williams." You said, trying to keep your voice steady and calm.

Ellie just smirked in response. "You're right, you're not like them. You're better than them. And maybe you are a little special, considering how much you manage to piss me off everyday." She took a step back and looked you up and down. "I kinda like it." She said, and you couldn't help but feel your heart rate go up a little when she said that.

You just stared back at Ellie, not really sure what else to say in this situation. Both of your egos were too big to give the other one satisfaction, and neither would be making the first move.

She finally spoke up; "Your turn to be honest now. Admit you're into me."

She was awfully close to you now, daring you to say something.

"Don't push it, Ellie." You told her confidently, and even though you really wanted to say it, your pride was holding you back from admitting it.

Ellie just smirked and moved even closer to you, until her face was just an inch away from yours. "Say it." She whispered.

You felt your heart pounding faster as you just looked at her, not able to break her stare.

You shook your head. "No way."

She just chuckled at your response. "I knew you'd say that. And now, I'm gonna make you say it yourself."

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Ellie pulled you close, just enough to make your lips meet. You just stood there, completely stunned by how bold she was, but at the same time, the feeling of her lips against yours was so new and so good as well. You hadn't felt this type of rush before, and you didn't want it to end.

You couldn't stop yourself from letting out a gasp followed by a moan into the kiss, which made her even bolder.

"I'll show you how lucky those so-called by you sluts are." She whispered after pulling away from you, but not for long.

While Ellie's mouth aggresively covered yours, you felt her slowly pushing you towards the bed.

You were barely able to think now, as your adrenaline was pumping through your whole body. Your back hit the mattress, and Ellie continued to push you down as she climbed up onto the bed on top of you.

That's when it hit you.

You realized that your little feud with Ellie wasn't going to end after all, except this time you weren't fighting her.

Instead, you were just enjoying the moment with someone you could almost call a friend.

It felt like there was nothing else in the universe, just a rush of new sensations that you didn't want to end.

Ellie was the one in control now, as you felt her body pressing up against you, her lips pressing against yours, her hands moving around your body without hesitation. You weren't even thinking straight anymore, you just let her embrace you, letting her take control entirely.

You felt her break the kiss for a moment, just to whisper something in your ear. "Say it."

You knew what she wanted you to say, but you just couldn't bring yourself to do so.

Before you could answer, you felt her slowly undressing you. Her lips were tracing paths along your throat, not letting you let out a logical word from it - only little whimpers.

You felt every curve of her body as you felt her lips against your neck, every touch sending chills down your spine.

When you felt her hands move towards your pants, you felt your body respond in the only way you could.

You couldn't think of anything else but her embrace, her warm breath against your neck, and your body slowly being freed from clothing.

Ellie knew exactly how to push your buttons.

Before you could catch your breath, you were left shaking, as her hand slipped into your underwear, which was soon on the floor too. She was teasing your clit in almost painful slow way, watching you squirm.

"Speak up, babe." She whispered mockingly.

But you couldn't. Not because you didn't want, or because your ego didn't let you - you just couldn't. You even asked yourself 'What does this girl wants from me?' as you already forgotten her previous wish. You just weren't thinking straight.

"Come on, do this for me." She kept looking at you with overdramatic concern. You saw her fastening her belt and sliding of her jeans, revealing an obviously-way-too-big strap, which purple color didn't surprise you at all as you imagined it the same way in your dreams.

When you finally came back to your senses, you constructed a whole full sentence answer. But as soon as she saw you opening your mouth to speak up, she slid a few inches of her toy into your soaking cunt. Your planned reply quickly got replaced with another gasp.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" She smirked, her hips started thrusting. She had some sympathy for you, so she didn't make it too painful, but she wasn't also so merciful.

You cried out, at first clenching your thighs from surprise, but she was too strong for you to actually succeed.

You leaned your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes shut causing a few of your pathetic tears soak into the sheets.

She held your hips, so she won't miss your sensitive spot, but her grip was so hard you swore you can already see the bruises creating right beneath her fingers.

"Honestly, I'm really happy it ended like that. You have no idea how often I'd imagine you instead of some random girl. But it's good to have you really there." She chuckled, not slowing down but not speeding up either.

Your eyes opened wide at this confession. Before today, the nicest thing she said to you was 'what's wrong?', even though it was in an obviously mocking way. And know it turns out she liked you for a long time. Just like you liked her.

"W...Wh- What?" You managed to stutter out, leaning on your elbows to look at her before your vision turned blurry again so you fell back on the pillow.

"You didn't know?" She laughed. "I mean, you were always oblivious, so I shouldn't be shocked but... I thought it was clear." She was speaking slower than usual as every single word coming from her mouth was synced with the moves of her hips. While saying this simple thing, she pushed her strap into you at least twenty times. And she wasn't taking her time, oh, no. She was fast and rough, like you're just a sex toy without feelings. Did you mind? Hmmm...

When you started getting used to the size of her cock and your mind wasn't completely blank anymore, you remembered one important thing your PE teacher said. 'Someone will check in on you from time to time, so don't even think about anything.' None of you were either at the gym or putting up flyers around school. They're going to think you ditched it. Even though you'd rather get into more trouble than end whatever you were doing now, you felt you need to tell Ellie, just in case.

"El-s..." You moaned out and quickly realised it won't be easy.

"What is it?" She asked, seeming honestly interested in what you got to say. "Ready to admit you're absolutely obsessed with me?"

You clenched your fists, squeezing the bed sheets between your fingers.

"Th- no... We should..." You couldn't help but cry out again.

As soon as she heard the two keywords - 'we should' (and she hated when someone was telling her what to do, so that pissed her off) - she understood what you're trying to say.

"Behave? Fulfill our duties? Or...?" She chuckled.

You wanted to speak up, just to not feel so vulnerable as you really were. You only managed to mumble 'we' before one of her hands started rubbing your clit, just like at the start - painfully slow. The feeling made your thighs tense and move closer to each other, wanting to close the gap between them. But Ellie didn't let that happen as she quickly separated your legs.

Her hips also didn't stop moving, and all the sensations connected made you go silent again. Well, not silent - unable to speak. And that were two completely different things.

"I'd take that as a 'we should continue what we're doing right now'. Isn't that what you want?" Even though you're eyes were closed, you could feel her intense stare on you. Then, her mocking tone came back. "What is it with you being so quiet all of sudden? You spent a few of the past years yelling at me, and you can't even say a word now?"

"I ju-st..." You said but then she hit your g spot again, and again, and again... making you go silent.

Your stomach started feeling funny - probably because of how deep in it Ellie's strap was. At this point, you thought you can even feel it in your throat and that's what's blocking your words from coming out. But the funny feeling had a different origin - your release was getting awfully close, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"We're going to have lots of fun this month." She whispered, leaning in to stroke your cheek.

[endearng]

Dearest Friend

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Summary: Spencer feels overwhelmed after you confess something when you're tired. His solution is to, well, obviously, pretend it never happened and suffer in silence. That is, until the problem knocks on his door. Well, you, knock on his door. WC: 4.6k Warnings: Idiots in love, mentions of jemily (I love them), reader is bicurious, they don't know how to talk to each other, Spencer is obsessed with reader to the point of watching her (in a healthy way, I promise), he gets jealous, Garcia is a sweetheart but that's canon, I love the team, no use of 'y/n' A/N: I'm so frustrated! I was about to post this fic and then I lost the draft. Tumblr sometimes I hate you Masterlist

Spencer Reid often felt proud of being able to focus on his tasks. After all, that was also what had helped him through the years he spent dedicated to his education. He was quick on his feet to put his mind to whatever he had to do and today was not different; some reports needed to be done and he did it effortlessly. You, one of his coworkers, on the other hand, had a hard time focusing at some times. You felt like you always had to be moving, doing two or more things at a time. Sometimes, to him, even looking at you was overwhelming with the amount of things you tried to do at once — there was one time he saw you talking on the phone with your friend, while sketching something on your notebook and skimming through some details of the case you were working on then. Simultaneously.

One of your favorite objects to fidget with, though, was your necklace. It was a beautiful yet simple accessory: a silver necklace with a small pendant. Spencer noticed that you often had it between your fingers, rolling it, pulling a little to the side, simply holding it or adjusting to keep it out of the shirts you wore. You always had it on, no matter where you were, even if it didn't match your outfit — as he had heard you once tell Penelope. He figured that someone you love must have given it to you. And he felt so jealous.

He felt jealous because he could never give you such an amazing gift, because he felt like he could never be important enough for you to use something he had gifted you at all times. It ached. He was now being tortured for 7 months, 3 days and two hours with a small crush he had developed (or noticed he had) on his cute coworker and hadn't a single clue on how to act on it. Or how to get rid of it.

7 months, 3 days and two hours since you had given him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life. And the most sincere, romantic (but, sadly, fleeting) moment of his life:

The team had been working relentlessly on a case. You were nothing but a puddle of exhaustion, tiredness almost seeping out of you, having read and translated all the journals written by the unsub. Spencer was reading your translations at breakneck speed, as he always did, because at that point you didn't trust your tired mind to come up with any more interpretations. So, after helping the best you could, you busied yourself with staring at him. It was obvious that you'd get caught, of course, sooner or later, but you didn't have the courage nor the will to pull your gaze away from him. You also didn't feel like depriving yourself from the absolute view you had. The way his hair framed his face and the way his eyes (and his hands, oh, those hands were crafted by God himself, you were sure) ran through the pages was suffocating, to say the least. He also had his glasses on, so you'd hit the jackpot that day — had you weak in your knees and didn't even know it. Silly, ignorant, wonderful boy.

You only realized that you had gotten caught when you heard the soft thud of the book being closed. "Is everything okay?" He asked, a little nervous, eyes curiously meeting yours. "I'm halfway through, don't worry,” he said, noticing how tired you looked. “I can talk to Hotch and see if you can go home to get some rest.”

You shook your head, and, then, unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth, you answered him in a heartbeat. "You're around." Then, you gave him the sincerest and sweetest smile of all times, which got his heartbeat going ballistic. He wasn't aware of what was going on within his ribcage, but decided it would be better to cover it by reading, even if he wasn't absorbing anything, really. Not the way he was paying attention to how he was feeling towards you at that moment, anyway.

He felt curious when you reached for his hand, but he didn't dare to look away from the notebooks. With your marker, you scribbled on his palm: You've become my dearest friend.

And that feeling never really got away in the first place, which made him feel uneasy around you. He got so lost whenever you were around that he never got so close to you again, scared that you might do something to him, scared that you might try to show him whatever that was again, that he failed to notice that he had grown a little distant from you. In the middle of his daydream, he didn't notice you approaching him. What he did notice, instead, was your face closer to his than it ever was. "Reid, um, Hotchner said he wanted to talk to you." You announced, voice almost a whisper. To make sure you would be heard by him, you leaned down after placing your hands on his desk. Strangely, he looked right at the pendant of your necklace.

You didn't mean to make him uncomfortable; you purely wanted to make sure he heard you, not disturbing anyone else in the process — there weren't many people in the bullpen, but it made sense in your head nevertheless. It wasn't in your nature to want people's attention solely on you, but something about his gaze made you think twice about it for a moment.

Not having other's attention, of course. Having his attention.

Sometimes, you would have long conversations with yourself to convince yourself to enjoy his company without letting your thoughts about him go a little further. Thoughts of being something else with him, to mean something else for him. You berated yourself over and over for the lack of self-control when you had that answer ready to roll out of your lips some time ago, but you were also blessed by his gentleness of not addressing the situation. Either that, or he was a really dense man whose self-esteem needed a little raising. You still tried to talk to him, of course, but he never seemed to let your conversations go far after that moment — you tried your best to ignore it, but sometimes it made you feel like your presence was unwanted by him.

"Okay. I, um... thank you for letting me know." He answered, glancing up at your pretty face. He almost felt embarrassed for being caught in the act of staring at your necklace (or bosom, if he overthinked it), but, mostly, people were too focused on their own tasks to notice your interaction. Despite trying with all his might not to care about what others thought, he strongly wanted, seeked, even, your opinions and approval. He didn't feel embarrassed because he knew you well enough to tell you wouldn't tease him like the others would.

"Anytime." You gave him a tight-lipped smile, going back to your desk, leaving him hopeful and flustered.

He desperately wished you wouldn't.

After an unusual quiet Friday mainly spent on boring reports, the BAU team decided to go out for drinks to let off some steam. You weren't the biggest enthusiast of drinking, but you enjoyed the company of your coworkers. Plus, it was fun to see them come out of their shell, you included. It was one of the few times you accepted the invitation, coming from Penelope. You had a sweet spot for her, because she was really kind to you and exceptionally welcoming towards having conversations with you. You appreciated her and made that clear whenever you could. And, deep down, you knew you had accepted the invitation because you had hopes of interacting with Spencer by having more time by his side.

Currently, what you didn't appreciate was your lack of filter. A couple drinks in, surrounded by your coworkers who thoroughly enjoyed that more honest version of you, and there goes your sense of embarrassment through the window. The current topic was... well...

"I mean, don't you ever think about it, Pen? Some women are just crazy attractive. Like, look at Emily." You gushed, looking at her. Right beside her, you saw Spencer, apparently gulping. "She is soooo hot. I'm gonna tell ya a secret,” you declared. “I spend some fair share of my time wondering if I want to be her or if I want to be under her." You revealed, sounding so candid that made everyone laugh. JJ glanced at Emily.

"Aw, thanks, baby. But I don't like them young." She chuckled, not meeting JJ's gaze. Huh.

"Your loss. We have very much to offer." You declared in a playful tone — it told everyone that it was all just friendly banter.

"We? You and boy-genius are the younglings of the team, princess." Derek took advantage of the topic to, of course, tease Spencer, who was now blushing. You looked at him, humored by Derek and waited to see his reaction.

Unlike most people, you didn't care about lack of experience in the dating field, let alone if it was Spencer. You thought it was almost sweet, how a grown-up man hadn't had the time to get used to all the sex talk between other grown-ups that happened casually. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was always far more concerned about his family and education and didn't have much time to go on many practices of said subject. You both were alike in that aspect, even if you've had your share of encounters.

Spencer didn't know how to react, so he chose to do what he does best: ramble. "Actually, younger individuals often report higher levels of sexual desire, influenced by higher testosterone levels and fewer health-related problems." He said, earning your attention. Looking at him, you giggled, because he was proving your point with scientifically accurate data. Adorable. "Older adults, though, may experience a decline in libido due to hormonal changes, medical conditions, or medication side effects. However, many older adults still have active and fulfilling sex lives, and some studies suggest that sexual satisfaction can remain stable or even improve with age, depending on emotional and relational factors. But, generally, sex drive can change with age due to various factors, including hormonal changes, health status, and psychological factors."

Even if his rambling often annoyed people, he was now glad for his ability to spill facts like an encyclopedia. If they knew about the thoughts running through his head after your playful banter with Emily, he would be dead. The thought of you having very much to offer was making him feel a little funny, to say the least.

"Thank you, Spencer," you breathed out, unable to speak anything, because your head was filled with thoughts of someone that wasn't Emily. Oh, definitely not Emily. Looking away from him, you gulped the rest of your drink, trying to disguise the obvious something by making another joke. "And, yeah, that's it. When you're done being prejudiced, Ems, you know where to find me," you gave her an exaggerated, ridiculous wink and she rolled her eyes playfully. "I'll be at the bar." And then, left, almost if someone was chasing you.

Maybe it was true.

"Wow. I didn't imagine princess over there to be so unrestrained," Derek said, laughing.

"She appeared to be shy when we first met." Spencer added, not wanting to be out of a conversation that involved you. "She still is, actually. Maybe it's the alcohol. It can make someone feel more relaxed and sociable due to its effects on the brain. It lowers inhibitions by impacting neurotransmitters, which promotes relaxation, and reduces the activity of the prefrontal cortex, the area responsible for self-control and decision-making." He said, unable to turn off his computer brain, still desperately trying to hide how he was actually feeling.

Garcia shook her head, laughing. "Yeah, boy-genius. She basically turns into someone else when she's a little tipsy."

"Okay, but we all know to whom she wants to offer something." JJ breathed out a laugh, looking right at Spencer. Derek promptly joined her banter, clinking their glasses in agreement.

Spencer quickly dismissed them, worried about you instead of being upset that he was, once again, the butt of the joke. Well, one of the parts. "Hey! You can't say things like that about her." He stuttered, tone a little high-pitched, but willing to get his point across. He could tolerate the jokes and the suggestive looks he got from his coworkers, but not disrespect, especially towards you.

"Come on, kid, take it easy. It's just a joke." Emily replied, looking at him once again.

"And, to be fair, it's pretty clear that she has another target." Emily said, grinning. She leaned towards JJ, who only watched the interaction and laughed every now and then.

Spencer tried not to let his thoughts wander too far. From where he was sitting, he could see you waiting for your drink, leaning a bit into the bar counter. Seemingly out of nowhere, a man approached you and you turned to him with a big and surprised smile, quickly engulfed by his arms. Oh. His mind started to go on a spiral of negative, self-conscious thoughts.

Did you know him? How? What if he was your boyfriend that no one knew about? Was he good to you? What did you see in him? If you were in a relationship, he now had a reason to avoid thinking of you altogether, because even if you were out of his league, it never stopped him from thinking about you in a different way, but if you actually had someone, it changed a lot. If it wasn't the case, he was still as hopeless as ever, a million scenarios playing in his head: you talking to that man, liking him enough to keep in touch, going on dates, eventually becoming something more. Not one of the scenarios involved him.

Well, if watching from the sidelines as you kept your life going as he longed for you involved him, then, yes, sure.

Deciding that torture was not getting him anywhere, he quickly drew his eyes away from that direction, not even realizing you had left the bar. When he came back to his senses, you were back. A gleeful glint in your eyes. "Who was that, sugar?" Penelope asked. Thank goodness for her. Or curse her. Spencer didn't know which one to think yet.

"Just a friend from college. We were both TAs during the same time, so, you know... Office hours were also bonding hours." You said, sitting back down, next to Spencer, fiddling with the straw on your drink.

"Just friends?" Emily teased you. Spencer was looking at his glass like it was something much more interesting than finding out about you.

It most certainly wasn't, but he was afraid of the way he would feel, or react, to the answers you'd provide.

Maybe that was the whole reason why he's been avoiding talking to you after his sudden realization. What if he actually let you in and this crush (that already felt a little too overwhelming at times) developed into something much more?

"Yes," you answered. She sent you a questioning look. You laughed. "Yeah, okay. I kinda... liked him," you chuckled. Spencer's stomach dropped and he looked right at you. You looked back at him, but quickly looked down, bashful. "But I had no idea of how to talk to him, so I mostly talked about school in general. We'd also walk home together when it got too late, sometimes. Oh, and he was also in a relationship with another girl, so there was that." You finished. You were trying to look at everyone while you spoke, but you found it incredibly hard from how intensely Spencer was looking at you. You had your fidget toy of a pendant in your hands. He sighed quietly.

"His loss, princess." Derek chimed in, looking at a girl that was checking him out earlier. You chuckled.

Spencer didn't mean to eavesdrop, but, oh, well. It happens to the best of us. "Yeah, he gave me his number. I'm really glad because I remember that I genuinely enjoyed spending time with him," you said, sounding sincere. He instantly thought of the guy from the bar.

"Ooh, that's nice, princess!" Penelope answered. "Are you planning on calling him?"

You looked down at your coffee, thinking. "I might, yes." And that was enough to fill his brain with images of you having a good time with someone that wasn't him. And he didn't like it one bit, but it wasn't a option to tell you how he felt. He felt delusional for reading so much into that single moment that you shared a few weeks ago.

He couldn't focus on anything else that day. Hotch had to check on him.

After working the courage needed to call your friend, you ended up being invited over to his apartment to catch up with him and what he was up to lately. You didn't have hard feelings (or any, by the way) over what had happened in the past, but you were scared that he might still see you as a lovesick college girl, so that's why you took a little longer than necessary to reach out for him. He didn't, though. And you were so grateful for that.

"Good morning, princess! You seem happy today," Garcia commented after seeing you enter the bullpen with a bright ‘good morning, guys’ rolling off your tongue. You smiled at her. She was leaning on Spencer's desk, right next to the genius, while they shared a conversation with Derek.

Spencer was getting ready to say something when you appeared, so he shut his mouth. You looked exceptionally good that morning. Shit. "Oh, yes! I had good company yesterday," you answered genuinely, but your face fell after their expressions changed, suggesting you were doing something else.

"Oh, did our lovergirl finally get some action?" Derek laughed as you finally reached them.

Your cheeks reddened, embarrassed. "No, Derek," you pushed him playfully with a shy chuckle, "I called my friend, the one from that night at that bar. I went to his apartment to catch up. I was really happy to see an old friend."

"I like seeing old friends," Spencer blurted out, catching everyone's attention, including yours. To be honest, he didn't even think through what he was going to say, but he couldn't deal with the nagging feeling of you talking about spending your night with somebody else. "I, uh, it's great to see old friends who truly know you, that must have made you feel really comfortable. It's nice to see them."

You gave him another sincere smile and his heart nearly stopped beating. He was so thrilled by your reaction that he didn't even have the time to feel embarrassed for butting in your conversation. "Yeah, it is, Spencer," you agreed. "To be honest, I mostly spoke about you guys, since we basically live together now," you chuckled, "and he said that he was happy to know that I found another family." You finished, rolling the pendant of your necklace between your fingers.

"Aw, you're a cutie." Garcia gushed.

"Don't go all soft on me, lovergirl." Derek teased.

"Well, it's true." You simply answered, now standing next to Garcia, basically sitting on Spencer's desk. He desperately wished you'd stay there all day long for him to watch you. In a totally healthy way, of course.

The next week came to an end sooner than you expected, plently of work to do and you were exhausted. You were tidying up your desk when you heard Morgan. "Hey, princess, you're leavin'?” He asked you. Sometimes he gave you a ride to your apartment, but you were going over to your friend's apartment again to watch some movies.

"Sorry, Derek, I already have plans." You declined, politely as ever.

"Alright. Have a fun time with your college boyfriend!" Before you could answer, he dashed out to the elevator, where Garcia was probably waiting for him. You rolled your eyes at his antics, but smiled to yourself either way.

What you failed to notice was that Spencer was there with you. "Oh, hi, Spencer. Didn't know you were still here," you gave him a small smile.

"Hi! I was just leaving," he answered, quietly.

Truth was, he felt undeniably defeated by the thoughts of you and said 'boyfriend' plaguing his head; Morgan's comment only rubbed salt in the wound. Sensing that something might be wrong judging by his tone, you stretched your hand out to him. "Come on. It was one of those weeks." He took your hand in his like it was second nature.

Neither of you seemed to remember — or care — about his germophobia. Holding his hand, you both walked to the elevator. His mind got a little quieter with your touch, like nothing else mattered. "So, um, how's your relationship going?" He asked, out of the blue. He instantly regretted it; knowing about it would make his skin crawl, but he asked in hopes that it wasn't like that and that you actually meant what you told them about the guy being just a friend.

You shoulders shook with laughter. His heart felt warm. "So you heard and believed in Morgan," you mocked him a little. "It's not a relationship. We're just friends finding comfort in each other because we knew ourselves in times when things were a lot simpler. It's kinda nostalgic." You stated. The last thing you wanted was for him to think you were in a relationship.

Even if you felt like he was out of your league, you'd still leave all your doors open.

Spencer felt like he was taking a gulp of fresh air for the first time in forever. To hear you, the person who unknowingly (and probably unwillingly) held his heart in her hands, was not dedicating her own to someone else, was exhilarating. He tried to bite back a smile, ultimately failing. "Oh, I see." He answered, voice nearly cracking. "I'm glad you have that." He couldn't say anything else because the comfort he felt wasn't enough to pour his heart out to you.

As you entered the elevator, it felt like it was the first time your profiling skills worked on him, your judgment no longer clouded by your feelings for him. The moments you shared lately, the comfort of holding his hand (he had not let go of yours yet), the satisfied expression never leaving his face once you revealed the nature of your relationship with your friend... It all clicked. But you were terrified of rejection, so you swallowed down your feelings for him, like you've been doing for what it seemed like forever.

If only eyes could speak.

"Did you know that I had feelings for you back then?" You saw the color leave your friend's face, so you laughed a little. "No, I don't see you like that anymore! I just, well... Do you think you could help me? I'd, uh, I'd like some advice." You saw him relax and take a sip of his tea.

"About Spencer?"

"How did you know?"

"When you talk about him, you're always a little too passionate," he revealed.

"So...?"

"You didn't change much, you know? You're still the same nerd from all those years ago — not that is a bad thing, don't get me wrong," he grinned when you scoffed, "but you need to be a little more obvious. More explicit. To the point.”

"We're friends. I'd hate to lose him," you confessed. "But it all got so weird after I said something little, but stupid,” you sighed. A pause. A sip of wine. “It was the kind of thing that's meaningful if you dig into it, you know? He didn't talk about it, but it feels like he shut me out for a moment. I keep thinking about it and I miss him so much, even as a friend.”

"Have you actually talked about it with him? You know, to him?" He asked. You froze. “People can't read each other's minds. You are friends, of course, but the environment you usually share suggests otherwise,” he argued, “So, is it better to speak or to die?”

Then, it clicked. Again. The moments you two shared, despite not being blatantly explicit, told you that he had, that he must have, a spot on his heart for you. When you held his hand and he not only allowed you to, he didn't let go of you either. Those longing, stolen glances that you pretended not to notice when you were doing the most ordinary things. The willingness to listen to your rambles about mundane topics — you were sure the genius wasn't even interested in pop culture or whatever happened to a random celebrity that week.

"Sorry, I… I have somewhere to be."

Out of breath, disheveled form, messy hair and feeling like all the oxygen on Earth couldn't possibly be enough for you from running the five blocks to your friend's apartment, to Spencer's, you knocked on his door — soft thuds, a rhythm that you often performed as you tapped your fingers on your desk, for example. He knew immediately that it was you.

Spencer opened the door, surprised, confused and, most of all, happy to see you. “Hi. Are you okay?” He inquired.

That question was all it took to make the barrel holding your tongue go to hell. “I'm in love with you. Oh, God. I-I didn't mean to be so unrestrained and I know that I look insane right now, but... Um. You have no idea, Spence,” you breathed out. “You have no idea what it's like to wake up and immediately think of you. What it's like to leave work and be sad over it because it means that I no longer get to see you on that day. Do you know how insane it is to feel sad because you're leaving work?” You laughed, sounding like a maniac. “There's so much I want to say to you and I feel that I'm always running out of time when it comes to you, because you're always a step ahead of me, hell, you're always a step ahead of everyone,” you joked, trying to make the situation lighter. He looked dumbfounded, only looking at your face, incapable of saying anything else. You took it as your opportunity to get everything off your chest. “And it makes me crazy because I want to know all about you and what you're thinking about because that's how love works, I guess. At least I think it's like that because I think about you all the time and I worry about you and I want you to like me as much as I do you. You have no idea, Spencer.”

He stood there, speechless. The elevator door opened and a couple walked out of it. His apartment complex only had two apartments per floor, door to door. You totally forgot how to function after rambling about your love for the doctor (with, perhaps, an audience), but you had a mind of not occupying the space they needed to get to their door. So you scooted over to the nearest wall, adjacent to Spencer's door — it was so awkward. The couple greeted you both with small smiles and then entered their own apartment. Looking back at Spencer, he was glancing straight ahead, at the couples’ apartment door. You sighed, defeated, beggining to feel uncomfortable with his silence.

“I came here because I took some stupid advice on telling you how I feel,” you said, voice quiet as an effort to make yourself so small that you'd disappear and never remember this situation ever again. Holding tight to the pendant. “I wanted you to know because you deserve it, Spencer. To have someone... who does know you and loves you the same.” You added, softly, having enough courage to look him in the eye, now that you had his attention back. “I know you, right here and right now. And if there's more, that's even better.”

He blinked. Once. Twice. Almost owlishly. You stood there, not knowing where this was going. You opened your mouth and looked away from him, ready to apologize, to tell him to forget all about it and dash from the building. When you did so, he pulled you in for a kiss: it was messy, teeth clashing, because you weren't expecting it and he almost missed your lips. When you realized what you were both doing, you placed your hands tentatively on the back of his head while he found his on your waist.

“I have so much to tell you.” He said. Relief flooding his body, love crashing into him like a tidal wave, warmth spreading on his chest. Pulling away from you just to look you in the eye with the most serene and loving and sincere expression. Holding your pendant between your fingers, he finished, "I'd like to start by telling you that you are and always have been my dearest friend. And that I have given you a free hand to my heart from the day we met. I was already doomed then.”

His eyes held truth enough for you to know that he also loved you.

Aaaand... that's it! I hope you enjoy it, my darlings! Let me know if there are any mistakes, please.

Feedbacks are highly appreciated <3

Part 2

[sleepingpillscosmos]

I saw your jjk with golden retriever s/o, but what about a significant that has black cat energy? Feel free to ignore this, I hope you have a good day, night, or whatever :)

JJK WITH A LOVE INTEREST WITH BLACK CAT PERSONALITY

characters: megumi fushiguro, toge inumaki, yūta okkotsu, yūji itadori.

wc: about 150 each.

requested: yes, by anon.

a/n: kind of got carried away with megumi lol. hope you all will enjoy!

➪ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

Since you both have the same personality, you didn't really interacted with each other out of classes and mission. This lasted until Yūji and Nobara arrived at Jujutsu Tech. They practically forced you two to hang out with them, and it always finished with those two bickering with each other and you and Megumi pretending not to know them. You two talked outside school for the first time when Nobara dragged Yūji into a shop with her and you remained alone with Megumi outside. They were taking ages and, since both of your phones were practically dead, you started to talk to pass the time. It was really awkward at first, as the both of you aren't exactly the talkative type. But as the time passed it became more and more easier, and you both were surprised to find out that you two had a lot in common. You two started to hang out alone in either his or your dorm, not really doing something together, just enjoying the presence of the other. It was like this since then. You use your dates as a pause from all the noise of your classmates and your teacher. He likes that you really understand each other because he isn't really good with words, as are you, and this allows him to be himself without worrying about being misunderstood.

➪ TOGE INUMAKI

You're the one who understands him better than anyone. Since you're an observer it took you a little time to comprehend him when he talked. You helped Maki and Panda to notice his micro expressions when he talked so that they could learn his vocabulary, which isn't really large. You helped Yūta too when he arrived at Jujutsu tech, and this allowed Toge to find one of his best friends. Toge really likes your quietness because he feels like he is not the only one who's silent most of the time, even if you have two totally different reasons and even if he's actually more of a talker than you. He loves when you two hang out alone, because when he talks he knows that you understand everything he's saying, and he can feel like a normal person and have a conversation with you without someone asking the others what he meant.

➪ YŪTA OKKOTSU

At first he thought you hated him because you were really silent and hardly talked to him. He caught you observing him more than once, and it really scared him. He was probably more scared of you than of Maki, because at least he knew what Maki thought of him, while you never expressed your own opinions on him. Then he understood, with the help of Panda, that you actually didn't plan to kill him or anything, it was just how you are. He loves hanging out with you because, as you both are really silent and calm, he doesn't feel the pressure of making conversation.

➪ YŪJI ITADORI

He tried so hard to be your friend since the moment he met you due to his friendly and extroverted personality. For the first few weeks your conversations were mainly started and led by him, with you nodding or responding with single words or very short sentences. It didn't change much since then, but neither of you mind it. Even if you seem disinterested, he knows that you're listening carefully to what he's saying, because you remember even the stupidest things about him. He really likes the dynamic between you two because you're never annoyed when he starts to ramble and talk about nonsense topics, and you never stop him too, so he feels really appreciated because he knows too that he can be a bit too much sometimes.

[saminsecret]

I'm not the same anon that asked for that deep male reader, but I loved the idea of it. Could you make a similar headcanon, but with the sinclair brothers?

Slashers dating a male!s/o with a deep voice part 2

I didn’t see this ask until now so sorry anon! Hope you like it >.< I love writing for the Sinclair brothers honestly but its been a while since ive watched the movie so excuse my mistakes!

Characters include the Sinclair Brothers!

Male reader!

Vincent Sinclair:

He has to get used to it. He's used to being in the basement alone, surrounded by silence for most of the days as he's working on another art piece. He likes the peace, away from the screams of tourists or arguments with Bo or the confusing chatter from Lester. So when you try to make conversation with him....he's not ignoring you, he just kind of...doesn't know what to think. You speak softly, but your voice is so deep it kind of throws him off his game for those first couple of weeks of being with you.

He wants you to talk more. Eventually, he can't get enough of you and your voice. He'll often sit you down near his desk while he's working on something and just listen to you talk about whatever. Ever so often he'll turn to you and nod to show that he is listening to you so that you don't stop. On the odd day that you are doing something that stops you from being able to sit with him downstairs, he'll find himself restless and unable to create anything worthwhile.

Easily flustered. You say literally anything that has a hint of a flirty undertone and this man is bright red under his mask, fumbling with his hands as he tries to sign back to you. If you whisper something in his ear, flirty or not, he's going to have a heart attack. You have a lot of fun teasing him. He likes it, too! (But he's too embarrassed to admit it)

Bo Sinclair

He tries to deepen his voice around you. It's obvious that he's a bit intimidated by how deep your voice is, but he'll call you an insecure pussy if you try to talk to him about it. He has to be the most intimidating/sexy guy in the room, y/n. Ambrose isn't big enough for the two of you!

He'll pretend to hate your voice, but really he finds it attractive. He'll still tease/bully you to no end about your voice, but once you've started dating he'll slow down the insults considerably (but not entirely). Hopefully your not insecure about it, because he certainly will use anything he can to keep you complacent/with him. "You think you can find anyone else that'll want you with that voice? I'm the best you'll ever hope to have, sweetheart."

He gets PTSD whenever you yell. Whether your joking or actually mad at him, your voice lowers even more when you yell and then suddenly he's a little boy again getting screamed at by his sonofabitch daddy. A switch will flip and he'll go into a rage, cursing you and anyone else out and pushing you out of the way to be alone with his cars. Give him a few hours to himself. Eventually he'll come back to you like it never happened, and if you really loved him, you'd play along.

He gets insanely jealous when tourists comment on your voice. He keeps a cool front, but inside he's already thinking about how the wax will look on their skin. You're voice is attractive, yes, but they aren't allowed to think about his boyfriend, period. If you want the tourists to not die in an extra painful manner, you'd best stay in the house where no one can see hear you.

Lester Sinclair

"Woah! You alright, mister?" He thinks you're sick the first time you meet, and when you explain that that's just how your voice is he'll bombard you with semi-invasive questions. "Did ya' always sound like that? Does it hurt to talk like that?" He literally will grill you in the truck the entire time to Ambrose, ignoring anybody else you might've been with. Lester doesn't do social cues very well, so hopefully you don't take any offense to his questions. At least he's being genuine?

Loves it when you sing. He ain't good at it, but anytime he hears you singing he'll join you, belting out the worst fucking singing you've ever heard in your life. He thinks you'd make a great singer, y/n! You could be a duo! Jonesy could make it a trio! This guy is a riot, y/n.

Gets a little insecure around tourists. As you both escort the newest batch of victims to town, the girl in the back seat just will not shut the hell up about how sexy she thinks your voice is. He tries to laugh it off, but he can't help but think about all the better people you could be with. "I know I ain't no catch, y/n..." You have to reassure him at night about how amazing he is and how much you love him. And if that doesn't work, just remind him that he's the only person who gets to hear your voice in bed and you've got him smiling from ear to ear again.

Jonesy barked at you when she first heard you talk. She's never heard someone so baritone before! Of course, now whenever she hears your voice, it's all tail wags and kisses! Lester loves when the three of you get to finally turn in for the night, cuddled up into a little pile of love.

[literaila]

stress baking

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you bake a cake and satoru tries to distract you

warnings: mom guilt (angst), fluff, satoru, etc.

last part | next part

*

year five.

“ooo,” satoru reaches a hand across the counter, fingers about to contaminate everything in the kitchen. “frosting.” 

you're slouching against the oven, trying to pretend like the cakes have been cooling long enough to frost when he comes in. 

and you know immediately that you've been caught. satoru can read your mind with a mere glance most days, and so you try to avoid his eyes. because really--you don't need (or want) his input about this

you slap his hand away, turning away from the cakes. “don’t touch,” you tell him, glaring. “i don’t know where your hands have been.” 

satoru grins at you, leaning against the counter so he can observe your corrupted workspace. “i can assure you that you do.” 

you roll your eyes, flipping a cake pan over. it shouldn't take too much longer, really. just a couple... hours. 

“what is this? did i forget about a birthday?” he looks up suddenly, startled. “was it yours?” 

you scoff, moving every edible thing away from his reach, and still don't look up at him. but you can still feel every moment he makes, like a secret intuition. 

as if knowing this, satoru smiles, leaning his elbows against the counter, face in hands, just watching you. “nah, i wouldn’t forget that.” 

“hmm, when’s my birthday again?” 

“it’s… uhhh a day. once a year," you make a face, scrunching your nose away from him, and he resolves. “the best day of the year?” 

you ignore him--and your stupid instinct to look at his face, in his eyes, and observe every expression he makes--wishing that cakes were sturdier. it's late enough that you already know this is going to be a disaster. can you make cement appetizing? 

“no, really,” satoru waves a hand in your face. “what is this?” 

“it’s a cake.” 

“for what?” 

“tsumiki.” 

he raises a brow, tapping on your forehead to get you to pay attention to him. “is it her birthday?” 

“no, you deadbeat dad, her birthdays in may.” 

“right.” 

you roll your eyes again, cutting the top off of the cake. still, you try to keep your eyes concealed from him. your entire being--even though you're well aware that it's futile. 

satoru can feel it when you cut yourself shaving in the shower, so it's likely that he already knows what you're doing. 

and exactly why you're doing it. 

but, you can play chicken with him for hours. you're very used to pretending like he doesn't know what you know that he knows. very very good. 

“sooo..." satoru drawls, voice bright and smiley. like the demon he is. "what’s it for?” 

you sigh, wanting to throw the excess cake at him. “can you use some critical thinking skills? just once, please?” 

“why would i do that when you could just tell me?” 

unforunately, the two of you both know that he's not going to leave without an answer. he's purposefully using your greatest weakness--his face, your heart, your irritating want to tell him every thought that crosses your mind--against you. 

but who's fault is that if not your own?

“she’s worried about a test tomorrow,” you say, slowly, finally turning to look at him, trying not to wince. “so i’m making her a cake.” 

satoru is already grinning, hand partially covering his mouth. you glare at his terrible attempts not to laugh at you. 

at least his eyes are pretty. his cheeky eyebrows and stupid knowing look. without the view, you know, satoru would mean absolutely nothing to you (and everything, of course).

“will it give her superpowers?” 

“shut up, gojo, what are you doing to help?” 

“not worrying about it," he answers easily, "tsumiki’s a genius, she doesn’t need your anxiety too.” 

“i’m not anxious.” 

he smiles at you, tilting his head. 

you crack, trying not to squeeze the offset spatula in your hand. “whatever. last time she got in a fight with akio you tried to buy her a kitten. i’m not taking your criticism," you look away from him, frowning. but before he can say anything, you add. "or your advice."

“the kitten wasn’t just for her,” he says, whining. “it was an addition.” 

“an addition i was going to take care of.” 

“tsumiki wouldn’t have to worry about a test if she had a soft, cute, cuddly little baby kitten to cuddle with.” 

you refrain a smile. “that’s redundant.” 

“you changed the trajectory of her life by telling me no. she'll probably go to prison now," satoru sighs, shaking his head at you. 

“yup. it’s all my fault.” 

he laughs, reaching a long arm over you to try and steal some frosting again, but you grab his wrist and push it away. he frowns, but asks, “are you going to let her eat this for breakfast?” 

you pause, looking back at him (he's already smirking because you've had that conversation a dozen times) then you look back at the cake you’re currently mutilating. “um…” 

satoru shakes his head. “so she doesn’t even get to have any until after the test? what's the point in that?" 

"the point," you say, glaring at him. "is that it's nice. i want to do something for her." 

"bake a cake?" 

"shut up." 

he laughs again. "you're such a nerd." 

"you can leave now." 

"what'd she say?" satoru asks, smiling up at you, brow perked. "'i have a test tomorrow?'" 

you huff, waving him away. "fine, no cake for you." 

"tsumiki probably didn't even tell you," he continues, cockily. "you probably read it in an email and immediately turned on the oven." 

"you are not helping." 

satoru snorts at you one more time, and then he stretches as he straightens up. 

your eyes dart towards him--and the sliver of skin you can see peaking out from under his shirt, very attuned muscles--and then away. you're not being caught again. 

but satoru is already smirking at you as he rounds the counter, hands traveling to your waist automatically, squeezing you to him--in a very uncomfortable position, by the way. 

he nuzzles his nose into your hair, breathing obnoxiously. 

"satoru, i'm busy," you say, trying to sneak out of his hold. unfortunately, he's way stronger than you are.

your hands have been blocked by his hold, and you set down the spatula, forced to bend to the will of this very irritating co-parent of yours.

"you're so cute," he says, cooing into your head.

"i'll pour oil in your hair." 

he laughs, again. "then you'll have to take a shower with me." 

you push him away, finally, scowling. he only moves back a couple of inches. "not happening." 

"you realize that you're crazy, right?" satoru asks, still smiling, but a bit differently. it's less arrogant and more adoring. like he's completely star-struck, lost in the entirety of you. "this isn't news to you?" 

"i'm not crazy. i'm being nice." 

he continues to smile at you, ignoring your carefully pointed scowls and the harsh way to continue to frost the cake. "tsumiki will be fine. even if she fails her test, or gets sick, or..." he shakes his head, shrugging. "pulls the fire alarm so she doesn't have to take it." 

"i hope you're not encouraging the children to fake an emergency." 

"she's the smartest kid in that class, sweetheart, she'll do fine. and would it really matter if she didn't?" 

you pause, biting your lip. no, it wouldn't matter, you should say. you should just tell him the increasingly worrisome thoughts that have been collecting in your head the past couple of weeks. you should've just helped her study more or made sure that she was feeling comfortable, or double-checked on her grades another time, or--

"well, she can have her cake as a reward," you say, instead, ignoring that last bit. 

you both already know the answer anyway. 

satoru is quick to wrap an arm around your shoulder, gentler this time, pulling your head to his chest with an impenetrable hold. "what's this really about?" 

"nothing." 

satoru's lips twitch, and it's silent for a moment, your disheartening 'nothing' ringing through the kitchen. 

he's so stupid. and you hate that he knows what's wrong already, but that he's gonna make you say it. and you hate that it's sweet, in its own, very annoying way.

and then you break.

you sigh, a grumble coming from the back of your throat. "i just think i've been too worried about megumi lately. i mean school and missions and..." 

satoru raises a brow at you. "okay?" 

"and then there's you, too," you add, giving him a look. but it's dropped very quickly, as you look down to the floor. "do you think i've been paying enough attention to tsumiki?" you ask, softly. 

tsumiki has always been good at taking care of herself, that much was obvious when you met her--when satoru told you what the two kids had been doing for months, all on their own. 

but you don't want her to have to take care of herself. or feel like she should, just to make it easier on you both. 

she's far too people-pleasing, far too sweet to tell either of you if you're missing something. she could have a broken arm and walk around like nothing was wrong until you finally asked. 

you swallow, then continue. "you and megumi are important, but i don't want her to feel ignored just because i've been preoccupied." 

"wow. i'm just a distraction to you?" satoru asks, pouting. 

"you know what i mean," you whisper, shrugging. 

really, you know these are just venomous thoughts. trying to hit you where it hurts. 

but there's that part of you that isn't sure. if you're usually wrong, why shouldn't you be right this one time?

"you pick them both up every day, feed them, put them to bed, help with their homework..." satoru shrugs, never seeing the things that you do; stronger than you'll ever be. "how could she feel ignored?" 

"well, i've been spending more time with megumi trying to figure out his shikigami. and you and i have been going over those books, and tsumiki can't be a part of any of that so she probably feels left out, and i haven't been doing anything with her anyway--" 

"woah," satoru interrupts, a brow raised. "what's wrong with you?" 

you glare, trying to push him away to no avail. "get out, satoru. i need to finish this." 

"no, i'm serious." he holds a hand to your forehead. "are you sick? did you hit your head on something?" both of his hands grab onto your face, squeezing your cheeks together. 

"stop," you say, muffled from his pinching. 

"you're so..." satoru shakes his head, every word going unsaid. "she doesn't feel ignored. she couldn't, because you're very clingy." 

"not as clingy as you." 

satoru laughs, pinching a bit harder in retaliation. "okay, so there's two of us. at this point, tsumiki is probably looking for other families to go live with." 

"she wouldn't leave megumi." 

his grin widens. his eyes are thoughtful, careful. "you spend time with her every day. you probably know more about her schedule than she does. megumi is..." satoru tilts his head. "difficult, and a priority. but tsumiki knows she is too." 

"i just don't want her to feel lonely. or unimportant," you whisper to him, eyes darting down to his chest. 

you know that it's a natural reaction, to want more for your kids. to want to protect them from your own feelings, however different the situations might be. 

when satoru tells you that tsumiki reminds him of you there's that scared, cowardly little girl who recoils in response, flinching away from that idea. you never want her to feel like you do, to be like that little girl. 

but unless you can erase history, you're not sure that it's possible.

satoru's eyes soften, looking at you. he breathes out, letting go of your face finally. then he leans down so his forehead rests against yours, shaking his head. "you're the most ridiculous person i know." 

your eyes are forced upon his and you finally crack a smile. "have you met yourself?" 

"megumi spends more time with us because he doesn't have any friends," satoru tells you, ignoring your glare at the statement. "tsumiki's just cooler than him." 

"i'm gonna let him hide your blindfolds." 

satoru rolls his eyes, but he shakes his head again. he's just staring at you, so you know that he's not going to entertain your pity party any longer. 

at least he knows that there's no point in arguing when you're not going to listen to reason.

you nod, looking away from him, back to the counter of destruction. "okay, i'll just finish this for her. i already started, so i might as well--" 

"finish it in the morning," satoru says, finger forcing your face back to his.

"not how that works, satoru." 

"put everything away, and finish in the morning," he repeats, trying ridiculously hard to sound stern--but it's almost impossible with the smile that leeches onto his face. "she can have some after school." 

"but i just want--" 

satoru shakes his head, shaking your jaw with his hand. "you're tired. go to bed." 

you cross your arms. "since when i have i ever done anything you said?" 

"since i said so," satoru answers, as a finality. 

and then he lets go of your face and wraps his arms around your waist, getting a secure hold so he can pick you up, hoisting you across his shoulder before he can say anything. 

it's about as gently as satoru does anything, but still surprisingly comfortable.

you squirm against him, though, ignoring that thought, making sure not to squeal at the sudden feeling of being swept off your feet. the children are asleep. "put me down,” you hiss at him.

"nope. it's bedtime." 

"satoru gojo, i swear--" 

he just laughs, removing you both from the kitchen and continuing down the hall. 

but instead of stopping at your door and depositing you in your bed--probably finding a key to lock you in with--he continues to his own room, opening and door and spinning around so he can shut it softly. 

you don't have the time to question his motives or meanings before you're already trapped in the enclosed space with him, with none of the willpower to argue with him. 

your room is cold anyway. 

satoru walks you both over to the bed, laying you down in his usual spot, head against the pillow (he ignores the glare you have pointed up at him). 

he shrugs off the sweater he's wearing, throwing it somewhere behind him like the teenage boy he is, and then lays down. 

right on top of you, of course. 

his body is sprawled across yours, your shoulder digging into his chest. but his arms are on either side of you as he holds himself up so that he can continue to look at you. 

he has boxed you in completely. and just his eyes on yours keep you from any viable means of escape. 

you breathe in his face and frown. "i hate you." 

"shhh," satoru is grinning, his face bright enough to be seen in the dark. "we're sleeping. can't hear you." 

"you're heavy, satoru," you complain, pushing at his chest with an ounce of strength. it doesn't work because you don't want it to. 

satoru pretends to snore, but he's still several inches above you. his face is close enough that you can see little scars, and the flecks of white in his eyes. he's looking at every part of your face, every single inch of your being. 

your eyes should focus on his, but you're used to this. so, after a moment, they trail across his face, to the bridge of his nose, and down to the swell of his lips. 

there's light coming in from his window, the moon flattering satoru completely (not that he needs any help). 

and, right now, as he keeps himself just above you, satoru's smile is gentler than ever. 

it lacks the bravado, the carelessness he usually exudes. but it's full of something else, probably something more. 

and you're the only person that gets this smile. the slightly drowsy, completely sure one. 

so you keep your eyes on it for a moment too long, but it's really not your fault at all. 

you could just kiss him and fall asleep.

he's looking at you like that's what he wants you to do, and you know that you're probably looking at him the same way. a simple kiss and the two of you would pass out, unbothered by the aches you'll wake up to, or the body weight that could suffocate you.

but you've never made things that easy. 

when satoru leans down, his entire back tensing, muscles probably straining from staring at you for this long, you sigh. 

satoru pauses, moving back a centimeter, checking your eyes for something--his are bathed in temptation, basking in desire, and you're sure that yours are just an echo of all of that. 

but it's the perfect opportunity. 

he leans in again, but you interrupt. 

"i still need to put everything away," you whisper to him, cheek twitching. 

satoru groans and his head falls against your shoulder. 

you tangle your hands through his hair and giggle into his ear until you can feel the goosebumps across the skin of his biceps. 

*

"so, tsumiki, how'd your test go?" 

you glare at satoru, trying not to look at how tsumiki reacts. you've decided that you don't care. 

tsumiki is always happy, satoru told you this morning, she might be on drugs. 

and, well, you couldn't quite disagree with him (the first part, not the second. he got a smack for that).

she nods, forking her piece of cake again. "good," she answers, through the bite that's already in her mouth. 

"was it a hard one?" 

"nope!" 

satoru gives you a look. a very familiar 'i told you so' look. 

you roll your eyes, giving megumi a piece of cake which he takes begrudgingly. 

"shut up," you tell him.

*

next part | series masterlist

[amisunderstoodgoddess]

— point of no return

rating: explicit. 18+ only

summary: you're used to hiding your true feelings for your best friend, but tonight is the point of no return in your relationship.

Author's note: fic based on the Chaise Atlantic soundtrack - seriously, there's nothing more addictive than Jeremiah Fisher and Chase Atlantic.

English is not my first language

I apologize for any errors you may find.

"Jesus, you keep settling for these idiots..." You hear your friend Jeremiah's deep voice approaching you in the empty hall; the sound of the music and the banter of your friends downstairs is now more muffled.

His disdainful stance changes dramatically in the space of a heartbeat, his beautiful blue eyes soften and harden right in front of you as he looks all over your body for physical harm.

"Wh-what?" You ask as you try to wipe your tears quickly, hoping he didn't see it, forcing a shaky smile.

"Your boyfriend, or whatever he is, just passed me on the stairs and didn't even have the decency to respond when I spoke to him and-and...hey..." He trails off when he gets the full view of your face - your face flushed and wet with tears.

"What happened? Did he do something you didn't want? By God, if he did anything, I swear it-" he's grumbling and widening his already imposing posture, obviously prepared to chase your boyfriend for explanations - ex boyfriend, you mentally correct yourself. You would have laughed, if you had any presence of mind for it.

"Jeremiah." You take his hands in yours, so small and delicate compared to his, drawing his attention. "He didn't do anything…well, actually he did, but…it's complicated."

You know he doesn't understand, not with the confused way you're acting, but you're both interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Jeremiah acts quickly and pulls you into his room, locking the door before anyone sees the two of you.

He backs you up against the door without any warning, putting an arm to the side of your head so you can't escape. You try to ignore the swarm of butterflies that dance in your belly as he looks at you through those long dark lashes. The scent of his masculine cologne – sandalwood and something warm and rich, like the purest heat of the sun, something that seemed to cling constantly to his skin – now, suddenly enveloping you too.

A flush forms on your cheeks and you look away from him, embarrassed by his proximity.

Jeremiah is cozy. This is a fact. There's no way you can sit next to him on the couch, side by side, without his arm around you or his head resting in your lap. That's how it's always been since you became friends years ago.

But the way he's looking at you now, body so close to yours, eyes searching yours with sincere interest… somehow it feels different. It feels new.

"Tell me what happened, please." He says seriously, way too serious for him, cupping your chin with long fingers so you'll face him again.

"No-..." You take a deep breath, "it was no big deal. We just broke up. That's all." You want to say this without crying, but tears are already pooling in your waterline once again.

There are a few seconds of silence, filled only by both of your breaths. He just looks at you, carefully assessing your face.

Just when you think he's not going to say anything else, Jeremiah sighs, long and almost relieved, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You frown at him and he has the decency to at least look embarrassed.

"Sorry, sorry! I know you feel terrible right now, but honey, breaking up with that guy was one of the best things you could have ever done. I can't pretend I'm sad about it." He says smoothing the flushed skin of your cheeks fondly.

"Actually, he was the one who broke up with me." You sniff, biting your lip nervously.

Jeremiah freezes and blinks a few times like an owl, processing what you just said.

"What?!" It suddenly bursts. "W-why? Why would he do that? You decide to break up with him…fine, understandable…but why the hell would he break up with you?" He's clearly nonplussed, brows furrowed and curls brushing his forehead as he shakes his head in denial.

"I don't know. He said something vague about me being too needy...he said that sometimes I 'feel too much', whatever that means."

This seems to drive him even more out of his mind.

"What the fuck is that explanation? He wants to tell how you should be, is that it?"

You sigh and try to slip under his arm, overwhelmed by the whole situation, but he squeezes your waist and pulls you back against the door, bringing your bodies even closer.

“That's not what he meant and you know it, Jere. You're taking what he said out of context and that's not fair."

It feels like a barrier has burst after your words, something that once held Jeremiah to sanity and is now no longer there.

"Fair?" He lets out a sharp sigh and shakes his head in disbelief. An oddly cruel smile curves his full lips. "You know what's not 'fair'? Seeing your best friend settle for someone who is beneath her in every way. They don't even deserve to lick the dirt off your boots, Y/N. You deserve so much more than that."

It's your turn to smile wryly. “Then how come no one wants me, Jere? My last two relationships ended in a matter of weeks and you know it. It's the most they can handle by my side. It's time to see reality. They're right, there's something wrong with me."

You are really crying right now. Heartbroken. Not for Mike. You really don't care about him, to be brutally honest. He was just another attempt to fill the emptiness.

The emptiness that left your aching and vulnerable.

Jeremiah reaches out to you, pulling you in and wrapping you in the warmth of his broad chest. "Shit. I'm sorry, princess. I didn't mean to make you cry. I just hate seeing you like this." He strokes yout hair and you sniffle into your shirt. “But you need to know that this is not true. People can't help but want to be with you. You are light. Everyone loves you.”

He pulls your head back, making you look at him again, almost touching your forehead to his, bending his tall body to maintain eye contact with you. Pale blue eyes meet yours, watery and fragile, and for just an instant, you know your eyes betray your secret hope, keeping your own love for him secret. Your eyes disconnect from the intense eye contact and look anxiously at his lips for just a second before re-establishing the connection.

You swallow hard and try to steel your resolve.

You can't do that, you can't confuse the common charisma and intense affection that Jeremiah expresses for basically everyone, with what you really want him to feel for you.

You cannot project your own feelings onto him.

You're not sure when that had changed. When did you start to think differently about Jeremiah, your best friend and constant presence in your life growing up. You moved in your teens and you both didn't have contact for a few years. And since you came back to Cousins, you decided you couldn't risk spoiling your friendship with mixed feelings - friendship that still remained strong, like when you were kids, like not a day had passed since you left.

But Jere certainly grew up while you were gone, and so did you.

Your feelings for him were no longer innocent.

Sometimes you could have sworn the feeling was mutual. You couldn't escape his smoldering gazes when he found you in the kitchen, sitting on the stool wearing one of his hoodies that looked giant on your smaller frame. He would confidently stand in front of you, leaning against the counter, sipping his coffee while his eyes roam your legs, not saying a single word to you.

Despite that, you weren't entirely sure. And Jeremiah was too important for you to risk ruining your friendship.

It was getting tough, though. Especially with the way he was looking at you right now.

There was a risk in that, you knew that. You were friends. Your family, friends, and social group were all intertwined. You weren't entirely sure how he felt. It could all come crashing down around you if it went wrong, whatever it was.

There would certainly be questions and there was a lot to think about. But, God, it really was hard for you to think of anything while you were pinned against his bedroom door, with his thigh wedged between your legs - testing, probing, discovering...

Maybe it was the alcohol you drank earlier, maybe it was just heartbreak from the humiliation of being rejected by Mike, maybe you just went really crazy and out of your mind after all...

But before you could think, you were acting.

You look at him, your eyes are still watery but your mouth is set in a firm line, something needy in your expression. “And you, Jere?”

He sighs: "What about me?"

"You want me?" It's a challenge. You say the words without really allowing yourself to think about the consequences. Part of you is so tired of it all - of pretending and hiding.

Your eyes follow the sweeping fall of his golden-brown curls across his forehead to his Adam's apple, which rises and falls with the way he swallows. You lick your lips. You want him. You've wanted him for so long. But there was always this fear of seeking more. He's your best friend and honestly, you don't think you could handle losing him.

He no.

Not Jeremiah.

He's always been the main constant in your life and if you didn't have him…you didn't want to think about what that would be like.

So why, why did you open your mouth?

You are so scared.

You think you might be going crazy.

“Y/N.” He swallows hard. You think he might try to deny it, and, as much as you shouldn't, you're the one approaching him this time, brushing your noses together...eliminating all doubt from the context of your question.

You just need to know. Even if it hurts. Your heart feels like it wants to get out of your chest, but you choose to throw caution to the wind - you've already gone too far. Your hand reaches out, sliding over his nice shirt, feeling the hardness of the muscles along his chest. His hands wrap around your waist and are so big that they reach your back, pulling you closer.

He's looking at your mouth and you think 'fuck', grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down as you go up on your toes, crushing your mouth to his.

He doesn't hesitate. He's leaning your hard against the door, his hand tangled in your hair as he returns the kiss fervently, sliding his lips over yours and pressing your body to his.

The kiss is everything and nothing you expect.

It doesn't start out subtly or in the weird, messy way that first kisses between two people typically characterize. No, this kiss is intense, hot and tastes right. Like he's kissed you a thousand times before.

He bites down on your bottom lip, making you gasp, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth and deepen the kiss. At the same time, one of his hands comes up to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your mind spin.

His tongue tastes like mint bubblegum as he kisses you hard, deep and, oh, it's too much and not enough at the same time, because you think you'll never get tired of the taste of him - it burns you deep. You moan into his mouth and it causes something like a growl in the back of his throat. Something dangerous and full of need.

You move against him, wanting more, but the sliding of tongues and lips eventually overcomes you and you forget what you were going to do. When he stops the kiss to inhale for just a moment, sucking, tugging at your bottom lip, you barely have time to think before he's crushing his mouth to yours again. His teeth chatter softly and you feel your heart skip and stutter and pound at the intimacy.

His other arm pulls your thigh around his hips and he pins you against the door with his body, crushing you with broad shoulders and wet mouth and desperate intentions. You squeeze a handful of curly hair between your fingers and pull, and he sighs against your mouth in drunken relief.

And when he pulls back a little, blue eyes slitted, entranced, looking chained and addicted - vaguely you think that no one has ever kissed quite like Jeremiah Fisher.

His hand is still on your throat like a necklace, the other holding your leg around his waist as his lips trace along your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You cup his face with trembling fingers and pull him back into your mouth, catching his soft bottom lip between your teeth in an amused bite.

He moans into your mouth. “Y/N…princess…I've wanted you for so long. God."

“J–Jere…” You whimper and unconsciously push your hips into him, rocking against his hard, defined abs.

"Yes dear? Are you well? Still okay?" he asks, needing to know if it was still okay for you, if you wanted to stop.

You nod quickly – God, everything's more than okay – and he grunts contentedly, pressing your hips down so you can feel…oh…hard and big, hidden inside his pants, rubbing just once against you - just so you feel what you're doing with him.

You both moan at the contact, his thick fingers curling a little more into your throat. "I need your words baby, I need you to say it's okay."

You shake your head nonstop, starting to feel distant. “Please,” you murmur. “Please, Jeremiah, just—” your voice starts to crack, starts to shake, and he silences you, kissing you before you can say his name again.

You lean against him, desperately tugging at his shirt as you become frustrated with his intense presence. You crave his skin, but all you can hold onto is the soft cotton that hides what you want.

Sensing your uneasiness, Jeremiah smiles into your lips and holds your other leg against his body, squeezing you into him as he leads you towards his bed.

You barely hit the soft mattress before he pounces on you, kissing your lips vigorously, devouring you inside and out. His big palms are flat against the mattress, perfectly framing your head where you're lying, but it's not enough.

Of course, it's not enough. You want his hands on your body, taking everything he can from you and giving you back until you're exhausted and panting.

You pull hard on the shirt that still frames his broad shoulders, dragging the fabric up and away from his skin. In a desperate sigh, you spill syllables onto his lips, and all you can do is hope he has some mercy.

“Jere,” you say again, breathless and close to tears, revealing your surge of pent-up need for him. "Take it off. Please."

And he does. Finally, impossibly, he does.

You watch with glittering eyes as he drops to his knees and pulls his shirt over his head, the warm light from his room spreading over his golden skin until he glows. A perfect package of defined abs muscles, broad chest and shoulders, strong arms with veins running the entire length, curly hair falling around his face, and of course, blue eyes a few shades darker with desire...he's a like a Greek god.

You watch him with desire, watch his shirt fall to the floor beside the bed, watch his deft hands reach out to you, fingers hooking under your own shirt that's too big for your body.

Same exchange, maybe. You lose your own shirt to his purposeful hands, leaving you with nothing more than the plain bra you usually wear and little shorts that expose too much skin. Jeremiah pushes the big body back to yours, intoxicatingly but patiently, and kisses the last breath of your lungs until you're writhing and clawing at his skin.

It's unimaginable when your skin finally presses against each other. Bare bodies and desperate desires, nothing is left but desire burning between your flesh. You moan and allow Jeremiah to have you however he wants, and he wants to trace his lips across your front in a smooth line of kisses, fluidly unclasping your bra and pushing it off your body like the thing is an offense to him.

"God, fuck, you don't know how long I've wanted this…" By the time he got the thing off your body, his lips were all over your neck and collarbones. Kissing and sucking your skin into his mouth, leaving his marks on you. Your fingers dug into his hair and pulled, the reward was a strangled moan you could feel against your skin. "Fucking long, baby."

And suddenly he was leaning down with his mouth on your breast as his hand came up to caress the other.

Another sound, something between a moan and a gasp, escaped your mouth as he licked your nipple with his hot tongue. You tried to cover your mouth with your hand, but he pulled it away and placed it on his shoulders once more.

“I want to hear you, princess.” he whispered into your damp skin, looking up at you from where his face was buried in your breast and gently biting your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. "You're so fucking perfect, Y/N," he whispered, his voice husky with desire as he teased one of your nipples with his tongue. While the hand that wasn't occupied with your breast found its way between your legs, pushing your shorts off your body with a few tugs.

"Ah, fuck…" He sighed into your nipple, tingling your skin, feeling how wet your panties were as he probed you with two fingers, circling your clit over the fragile tissue tentatively once. You let out your most embarrassing sound yet: a high-pitched moan, whimper, something like that. You'd be mortified if you had the mental capacity for it.

But Jeremiah only grew up listening you.

"Do you like it, baby?" he asks in his husky voice, kissing your belly and reaching down.

"Yes, Jere, please...I want this so badly..."

His big blue eyes blinked at you from under the heavy curtain of lashes, staring at you so intently you thought you would come at that moment.

Swallowing hard, you took a deep breath as you watched him push the soaked fabric of your panties to the side, still not taking his eyes off you. And slowly, as if he were mocking you, his lips finally descended.

You threw your head back with a silent cry at the feel of his mouth on you, and then he was there, his tongue parting your wet lips and plunging inside you. His teeth grazed your swollen clit in a single pulse of pleasure that had you squirming involuntarily, making room only for him to get his hands under you and grab your ass, pulling you closer to him. The position allowed him the freedom to tongue fuck you, moan against your folds, and the vibrations combined with the lewd feel of him inside you like that…you had already reached the point of no return.

"Damn, you taste even better than I thought baby…" He mumbles drunkenly before returning to tease your clit with his lips, his tongue running fervently over the nub. His hands moved beneath you once more, resting your legs on his shoulder. Jeremiah looked down at your glossy folds, almost shaking with excitement. "You look yummy enough to eat, kitten," he said with a wild laugh. His lips found your clit once more.

You screamed, your fingers pulling at his hair. "Jere!"

You cried his name.

He growled into your folds at the needy sound of your voice.

Within moments, you felt yourself getting more and more tense. He moaned, sucking the sensitive flesh once more and you screamed. That small action was all it took to push you over the edge. Every muscle in your body snapped and you cried his name with passion. And he continued his cares, long after your body had stopped shaking.

Impatience quickly replaces momentary lethargy and you find yourself gently pulling his head away from you, still flushed and panting. "Jere, please, for God's sake..."

You don't even know what you're begging for anymore. All you know is what you want. You want his touch, this newfound pleasure. You want it all.

He licks his lips and stands quickly, pulling his pants and underwear off his body as he lets you look at every inch of his exposed body.

His cock is the most spectacular thing you've ever seen and you try to hide your shock; he's the perfect balance of long and thick, more than enough to let you know your pussy will be full, struggling to accommodate him.

Maybe he'll leave you with a memory, a delicious pain. Something to remember that night.

You desperately want to remember that. And you want him to remember you too - like this; hot, sweaty and needing him.

He crawls across the bed until he's on top of you once more, all golden skin and defined muscles, sun-kissed hair and cock leaking precum.

You don't think you've ever seen anything as beautiful as Jeremiah.

Your mouth waters, your eyes reveal your thoughts as you stare at him. The glow in that pretty face makes you hesitantly, shyly reach out and curl your fingers around him.

"You are so beautiful." You murmur against his lips, his mouth opening with a snort and his pool blue eyes fluttering at the feel of your soft skin caressing his warm length. He's heavy and wet between your fingers and you can feel the veins pulsing along his length with each slow stroke of your palm.

"Ah princess, that's it…" he moans before white teeth hold his lower lip hostage as he looks at you from under dark lashes and heavy lids. The question hangs there, needy and urgent. You nod, fingers of your other hand encircling the back of his neck in a confident grip, legs spread wide as he aligns himself with your pussy with one hand and supports his weight on the bed with his forearm next to your face.

“Tell me what you want, my love, and I'll give it to you.” His cock jumped and you felt yourself shiver in anticipation as his head slid up and down your core. The swollen tip is shiny and wet on you and you can feel your pussy trying to pull him in with the shallow thrust when he finally presses against your entrance. He does this a few times and you whimper in frustration. He just smiles one of his wide, bright smiles, except this time there's something almost desperate there too. You wrap your legs around him and take a deep breath as his cock pushes into you, just the tip remaining immobile as he stares at you blushing back at him. He combs your hair back and places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I'm going to ruin our friendship baby…” he breathes and your heart almost sinks before he pulls away and slides inside you again. "You understand?"

He begins to sink into you in an almost affectionate rhythm, allowing you to become familiar with his length. You grab his arms and squeeze them tight each time he pushes himself an inch deeper into you, sighing and rolling your hips with him, grunting as he slowly advances on you.

You blush even more when he chuckles evilly at your reaction. But you can't stop. You're ready to cry, hypersensitive and aroused by the last orgasm, desperately needing another.

His cock moves inside you some more, your pussy straining to pull him in. You shudder, the sensation delicious and torrid and aching all at the same time.

Your eyes close when he's buried to the end.

“Fucking perfect,” he exhales, squinting his eyes and breathing through his mouth. "You were made for me, princess."

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in for another hungry kiss and when he hits you, you whimper, biting his bottom lip. He growls and runs his nails along the skin of your neck until he grab the strands of your hair, eliciting a loud, pent-up moan from the back of your throat.

"Please..." You start and don't finish, rolling your eyes with each thrust.

"Please what? Use your words, kitten." He's being cruel. He knows how desperate you are, how much you want him. He is trying to exert control over you.

But you don't like it? A voice from the dark depths of your mind mocks.

Yes, you do.

"I want you to fuck me, Jere," you gasped, your eyes heavy with desire. "Take me...make me yours. Please..."

"Good girl." he mutters, sending a shiver down your spine. He runs his thumb over your breast until the nipple forms a hardened peak. "So good for me baby."

You can barely breathe, you feel so full. Your nails dug into his back and you both hiss at the sensation. He thrusts into you hard, his hips rocking back and forth inside you. All you can hear is the sound of your meowing and skin hitting skin.

His hands grip your hips so hard you're sure you're going to hurt tomorrow. You beg, a strangled cry breaking from your lips as the pressure you feel builds.

And so he's turning you two; a quick, fluid movement, without leaving your body, until you're sitting on top of him as he's sprawled across the bed. You're panting and flushed, embarrassed that you're the one setting the pace now, but your desire is too high for you to remain quiet for long.

You bite your bottom lip and nod, indicating that you like this. Jeremiah smiles softly and cups your hips, pushing you back once, then pulling you forward. He groans and clenches his jaw as you circle your hips to tease his hard cock.

You feel his hands caressing your ass, squeezing, pulling and pushing you onto his cock.

"Damn, you look so good like that." he breathed, his husky voice reverent, dreamy, needy… "I can't wait to see you mess all over my cock."

Suddenly, he seems to lose his temper, pulling you up and down the base of his throbbing cock with force, making you gasp in surprise. Despite that, you feel a sly smile stretch your own lips, the satisfaction of good sex coursing through your body becomes addictive. Not that you'd have much of a basis for comparison, having only done it once - fast, clumsy and unsatisfying.

God, nothing like this experience with Jeremiah. He should have been your first, you are absolutely sure.

You rest your hands on his sweat-damp chest, forcing yourself to move your hips up and down faster. You moan, looking up at him as you tease your clit into his pelvis.

Jeremiah plants his feet on the bed and slides his hands behind you to cup your ass cheeks, opening you and lifting his hips to slam you deeper. You gasp and dig your nails into the skin of his chest, eliciting a hoarse moan from the man.

He looks at you, all clenched jaw, furrowed brows and hazy blue eyes boring straight into you. A moment passes, then another, the feeling of something big coming closer and closer.

“I could barely handle it..." he admits hastily, taking one of his hands from your ass to spread it across your belly, squeezing and massaging your flesh. “The idea of someone else's fucking hands on you, princess. Of those little guys touching what's mine…” Jeremiah lets out a shuddering breath as his hand continues up your side, thumb gently brushing the underside of your breast, causing liquid heat to pool in your core.

You whimper as he cups your breasts and pinches your nipple, moaning at the feel of his fingers sending electricity to your swollen clit, making you roll your hips harder against him.

Your toes curl and your thighs flex as you approach the edge. You lean down to capture his lips with yours, skimming your tongue along his before sucking mint and sunshine on your tongue. He moans into your mouth as you let your tongue run past his teeth and along his bottom lip.

His grip on your ass is almost painful, making you move faster. Jeremiah licks his lips and watches you as he uses the heels of his feet to thrust faster and faster into you.

"That's it love, let go for me, I want to feel you come all over my cock."

You part your lips and scream as you crush your pussy against his pelvis and come hard with your rolling hips. Pleasure rushes over you like waves as you tighten around him. Jeremiah gasps and watches your slow, hazy descent. He grabs your hips and throws you onto your back once more.

You squeal as he stands between your thighs, looking up at you with a dangerous smile before slamming into you and making you scream a loud moan. There's no patience or time for you to recover, he fucks you up during your overstimulation.

"Come on, princess, you can handle it…" You moan in response to his wild words, and grip the sheets beside you as he slides his forearms under your knees to push your legs against your chest.

You struggle to look down when you see that his gaze is fixed between your legs, nearly drooling as his watch his own cock enter your wet pussy with each hard thrust. His lips part and his messy golden hair falls in front of his electric blue gaze. He licks his lips and groans as he pumps into you harder, pushing you back against the bed.

The sight makes your pussy clench with a fresh wave of need.

You lift your hips and bend slightly as he tilts his hips, hitting your G-spot and making your toes curl. You flex your thighs and grab the pillow to scream in ecstasy as you suddenly collapse around him once more. Surprise etched across your flushed, sweaty face as you widen your eyes. Jeremiah laughs, but he's barely holding it together now, as broken as you are.

Each thrust sends the bed creaking and hitting the wall, the sound drowned out only by the loud music and shouting from the lower level of the house.

He smiles, breathless and close to the edge.

“Come for me, Jere, please...” you murmured to him, exhausted and shaky. You want to tell him to cum inside you, you're on birth control and you trust Jeremiah above anyone else. Do you really want. But all you can do is stare at him through narrowed, watery eyes, silently begging him to finish inside you.

He seems to understand you, like he always does.

He moans and pushes your legs even closer towards your chest, focusing on his own growing climax. He quickens his hips and his knees widen into the bed as he approaches. Moans escape his lips as his thrusts become erratic.

“Fuck, fuck, I've wanted this for so long,” he moans loudly, desperately. "Fill that sweet pussy. Fuck, take it all baby..."

His nails dug into yours legs as he slammed harder, his hip bones colliding with the backs of your thighs. His throbbing cock inside you soggy, wet pussy was music to his ears, pushing him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he groans and licks his lips before parting them in ecstasy, lost in the way his cock was fucking your tight pussy.

And then you hear his breath hitch. You can feel his cock swelling inside you, stretching your pussy and making you feel fuller. Jeremiah curses under his ragged breath, speeding it up until he lets out a loud groan. "I'm cumming, fuck, fuck..."

If you had any energy left, you would have cum from just the needy sound of his voice, but your body is limp and exhausted after three intense orgasms. So you just watch it carefully; the way his bushy brows are drawn together in the most beautiful agony, his golden brown curls sticking to his forehead, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, his golden skin glistening with sweat, his defined muscles flexing and relaxing...

He's perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Jeremiah pulls off of you and collapses noisily beside you, breathing hard and you slowly stretch your legs out, feeling like you might get a cramp at any moment. He lifts himself up on one elbow as your legs spread slowly in exhaustion along the sheets.

He grabs some kleenex from the desk next to the bed and goes back to wipe it between your legs. "Are you well?"

"Mmhmm...yeah, but I don't think I can get up." You said softly and laughed, putting an arm over your eyes.

"Don't worry about it baby, we don't have to leave now. We can stay here all night actually." He said and you can hear the smile in his voice, the satisfaction and happiness.

For some reason that made you more embarrassed than anything that had happened just a few minutes ago. The fact that he was obviously pleased awakened a kind of self-awareness in you that wasn't present before.

God, what did that mean to him? Was it something induced by the heat of the moment? A unique thing that you would keep only in your memory?

You didn't dare remove your arm from your face, too embarrassed to really look at him right now.

He had no idea. Inside, your heart was doing somersaults and you almost thought about crying with sheer relief and happiness at having fulfilled one of your greatest desires in life.

Here, in the low lighting of his bedroom, you couldn't pretend that you probably weren't head over heels in love with your best friend.

You could never again pretend you weren't in love with Jeremiah Fisher.

But your daydreams were interrupted when he moved beside you, and soon he was sliding under the covers with you, wrapping himself around you like a cocoon, like something safe and warm and fluffy - not the sexy man who just eat you and touched you and made you come three times in a row.

“I really like you, princess,” he whispered, his voice cracking in the process, right in your ear. You heard him smile as he gently pulled your arm away from your face, forcing you to look at him.

You swallow and try not to vent the insecurity you're feeling.

"I meant everything I said, you know." He continues, his eyes clear and shining like the sky, even in the dim lighting of the room. "You are mine. Always have been."

You let one of your hands rest on his chest, feeling his heart race under your fingertips. God, you want to agree. You want to give yourself to him more than anything...

He's right, you were always his.

But there is one thing that still troubles you.

“What if I want you to be mine too?”

He lets out a chuckle, bringing his head forward to rest in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “That's easy, love. I've been yours longer than I care to admit. And now I've had you this way, I'm not at all willing to let you go."

You sigh and smile, your eyes becoming blurred with tears once more. When Jeremiah pulls away, he laughs at the satisfied expression on your face, placing a sweet, slow kiss on your swollen lips.

His tone was teasing and affectionate as he said, “What are best friends for anyway?”

[kasagia]

I love you... I am sorry II

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!witch! reader

Summary: You and Aleksander talk, scratching open old wounds from the past, you come to the conclusion that some things are simply a lost cause.

Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~Main Masterlist

~•♤♤♤•~ Part 1 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 3 ~•♤♤♤•~

"Do you think I'll tell you what to do by moving soldier figures around on the map without any logic?"

"I know you, Aleksander. Eventually you'll crack and arrange those wooden soldiers the way they need to be on this map to win this battle. Give me two hours, and I'll make you so annoyed that you will do whatever it takes to get rid of me." You respond teasingly, playing with the pawns on the Ravka map in front of his cell door.

A few days had passed since your first meeting after years. During that time, you had managed to discover exactly what changes had taken place in Aleksander.

He was apathetic, not paying attention to those around him. You had been watching from hiding as Alina and Baghra tried to talk to him, but he clearly showed no interest in Ravka's fate. And worst—Grisha. Or at least he pretended not to care. You had to find out why.

Luckily, you and Ulla were able to stir up… a lot more emotion in him than those two hags. Even if it was just irritation, it was still a greater success than Alina or Baghra could achieve. Or at least that's what Baghra told you.

"Since when have you been friends with my mother?" He asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You lazily move the figurine representing Grisha's troop to the pass between Ravka and Fjerda. With your ability to read the Shadow Summoner, you immediately notice the slight twitch at the corners of his eyes. A shitty place then. You move the figurine to a different spot and, seeing no disapproving little reaction from him, you leave it there.

"Since when did you become a pain in the ass?" You reply with a cute little smirk, grinning when you see his annoyed expression.

You pull away from your poor reenactment of battle and lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. You watch him carefully, keeping your poker face on as he analyses you too. Talking to him was like playing chess. You had to know when you could afford to lose your pawns.

"You never really said why you are here." He starts, stepping a little closer to you. Like a vulture slowly circling its prey. You liked him in his analytical hunter mode. He was so absurdly sexy…

"I don't have to explain myself to you. You are not my man or something." You scoff, glancing out of the corner of your eye at his reaction. The clench of his jaw might have gone unnoticed if you didn't know him any better, but the way he clenched his fist and hid it behind his back didn't. You pissed him off. Good.

"I am not." He only agrees coolly, this time being the one to stick the needle in your side. Bloody bastard.

"Alina wants to take me north. You know... to help calm down a situation with Fjerda by using my powers." You tell him, leaning back in your chair. You reach for the pendant around your neck and play with the glass heart, looking at him as intently as he does you.

"Have you become her errand dog?"

"Please... do you truly think so little of me?" You snort in amusement, but your mockery dies when he says nothing in response to your words. Bad move. Of course he thinks so little of you since your stormy breakup. "You don't have to answer. No. I am not going to help your little saint or queen or whatever you wish to call her with the war you wanted to prevent. No matter how dramatic the measures you resorted to, at least Ravka would not now have to deal with the united forces of Shu-Han and Fjerda. And as you could notice in the centuries we spent together, I do not support idiots and ignorants like your dear Alina."

"So you are here to say that you see my point of view, and actually you want to take my side? Perhaps you are even jealous of my 'relationship' with the Sun Summoner?" He mocks you as he approaches the bars.

You stand up furiously from your seat and approach him too, seeing only the red fire of your rage as he dares to throw your jealousy in your face.

"No. I came here to see you writhing in this cage, irritated and eager to take some action, maybe even plotting some king's slaughter. I didn't expect to be left with a boring shell of who you used to be."

"I am terribly sorry if I disappointed your expectations. Do you see now how it feels on the other side of your own treatment?"

You stare at each other for a long moment, both of you seething with anger, resentment, and bitterness built up over years of you ignoring him and running away from him and his distrust and anger towards you.

"We broke up."

"Indeed we did."

"Then why did you come back to it?"

"And why did you come back now?" You shiver at his words and pull away from him. You try desperately to maintain your neutral posture, but it becomes an increasingly difficult task as he hits all the right spots.

"Your girl ruined my peace with the war that shouldn't have happened and wouldn't have if you were in power. I couldn't stay any longer in my hiding place. Even if I wished so. I had to come and clean up your mess."

"Alina is more than you care to think about her. Much more." His words hurt you, but you know they were the best answer to your lie. After all, nothing connected you anymore. It was logical that he would defend his Sun Summoner. His little damn Sankta.

"I don't care what she is. But order your little minions once more to put me to sleep, or do anything against my will, and I promise you, Aleksander, you will remember why it's not worth teasing me."

"I remember the times you loved my teasing." He replies with a small cocky grin. And you don't know what you want to do more, punch him in the face or kiss him for being so frustratingly, irritatingly absurdly handsome.

"Don't recall them if you despise them so much."

"Why? Because you regret what you have done? Because you realise how terrible a mistake you made. Because you want back what you lost ages ago? Because you know that we could have so much more if it weren't for your selfish actions?"

"How dare you, you demon from the woods..." You growl at him furiously and step closer to the bars, tightening your hands on them in an attempt to vent your anger on him.

"I am. You shall never forget this, witch without a coven."

"And who is the reason I don't have one?" Your words ignite a fury so hot and great that he presses his body against the bars as well. You stare furiously into each other's eyes, and you know that if his power were not in bondage, the room would be filled with his shadows right now.

"I never asked you for anything or for sacrificing anything for me. What you did for me then... it didn't matter when you did this only because you felt guilty. Not after what you did TO me."

"But you asked me once to stay with you. No matter what. Remember?" You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, summoning old, distant memories. And even though centuries had passed since those events… It didn't mean it hurt any less with the passage of time.

"How convenient for you to keep only those promises that suit you. Now I'd appreciate it even more if you'd disappear for good. Or rotted in some nameless grave." You slam your hand against the bars, making him shiver in surprise at your sudden outburst.

You feel your power tingling under your skin, begging to be released and unloaded on him, but unfortunately, the last thing your stupid heart wants to do is hurt that big, stubborn idiot. So while your heart is busy calming your wild power, your wounded pride takes over and controls your mouth, providing a perhaps more painful weapon than your magic.

"Fuck off, Aleksander. You can get rid of every little reminder of your past, but you'll never get rid of me. We're too deeply connected with each other, and you damn well know it. You'll see me forever, everywhere, in every fucking breeze, the scent of flowers, and the glow of crystals. And you know how I know that? Because despite all these centuries of you being far away, I still see you in every fucking corner. In every dream, in every place, in every little memory of the past I recall. I feel you with every breath, every blink, every little touch—exactly in the places you used to cherish my skin. You've tainted everything I know and love. We are a scourge to each other and always will be. And until Ravka becomes a relatively safe place to live again, we are both condemned to each other's company."

"There is a very simple solution to all of this." He says and looks at the heart-shaped pendant hanging around your neck. You swallow hard and catch it tightly in your hand, protecting it from his gaze. "Haven't you ever thought about that? To cut yourself off from this for good? From me? You can finally be free. Maybe you'll even find your peace?"

"There is no peace for me. And neither for you." You see that your words have caused some internal stirring in his conscience.

He hesitantly places his hand on yours and takes your chin in his hand—the one on which he has a black scar from the amplifier with which he connected with Alina. You hold your breath as he strokes the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb, staring at you intently, too mesmerised by his sudden closeness and tenderness from him after centuries apart to listen to your better judgement and pull away. You cling to him blindly. You fall into the trap of his dark eyes as you drown in his touch.

"I'm tired of fighting, Y/N. I will find peace. Even if it means losing the lives of thousands of others."

"Even my life?"

"We both know that your death would be my salvation." You smile bitterly and snort as if he's just told a funny joke. But in reality, you're doing everything in your power to keep the tears from falling from your eyes.

"Same here." You mumble, focusing your gaze on the black scar on his hand instead of his eyes, afraid his dark depths will somehow see through your lies.

You hold your breath as he grabs your chin tightly and forces you to look into his eyes. His fingers dig into your skin unpleasantly, but you don't care. You're drowning in his angry, hurtful, resentful gaze, unable to move an inch.

"Ex-lovers quarreling? Should I just go out and wait until Mom and Dad make up?" Ulla's sudden intrusion makes us both recoil from each other as if burned. You clear your throat and glare at the black-haired one madly.

"Don't call me that. I am not old like that hag who gave birth to you."

"You are talking about my mother."

"Mother, you hate, as I would like to point out. Actually, I start to wonder if there is anyone who didn't deserve your wrath, my dark general." You scoff at his remark, knowing full well that his relationship with Baghra has only worsened since you left. With a little unwanted help from you…

"In case you haven't noticed, all those dear to my heart that I came to dislike have a tendency to betray me."

"In case you haven't noticed, they may not be cheating on you, but doing what's best for you, you stubborn, damn, proud fool who can't see beyond the tip of his own dick!"

In your anger at him, you step too close to the bars, giving him the perfect opportunity to grab you by the neck. And he does. You gasp in surprise and instinctively reach for the pendant around your neck, holding the glass heart in his secure grip. Aleksander wraps his other hand around yours, trying to squeeze it hard enough to break the glass heart you try so hard to protect.

You gasp, struggling to take even one short breath, and look him straight in the eye as you mumble the words of the spell with the last of your strength. Aleksander hisses in pain and releases his grip on your necklace, but he still holds you tightly by the neck to the point where you know he'll leave bruises in the shape of his hand and fingers... which doesn't bother you as much as it should...

"Okay, stop! Both of you!" Ulla walks over to the two of you. Aleksander shifts his gaze from you to her for a moment. You feel his hand on your throat tremble as he considers letting you go. "Sasha, let her go. Before you do something entirely stupid that you will regret."

Aleksander hesitates for a few moments, then lets you go. You don't give him the satisfaction of moving away from him. You take a few deep breaths, staring at him with a hateful, cold gaze that he stubbornly avoids by looking at his sister.

"Torment me again, and I promise Ivan will put you to sleep for a thousand years." He mutters his empty threat without even looking at you, which gives you reason enough to decide you'd rather fucking die than give him the last word in this little argument between the two of you.

"If you wanted me to be your sleeping beauty and you to be my prince, all you had to do was ask, Aleksander." You mock him, and he moves to grab you painfully by the throat again. But before you can respond with one of your curses, Ulla steps between the two of you and gives you both a disappointed, irritated look.

"Y/N! That's enough for today."

"I didn't start…"

"Y/N!"

"Fine! Got it. I am on my way." You raise your hands and walk out of the barred room, but not before sticking your tongue out at Aleksander—something that escapes Ulla's watchful eye because her back is turned to you.

And as you leave, you wonder how the hell you're supposed to get this dense, stubborn asshole to cooperate when he clearly still despises your insides as much as he did all those centuries ago.

"Is that what you call taming him?"

You sigh and stop in your tracks on your way to your rooms. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, cursing the name of every saint you know under your breath before turning to the person you hate most in the world with a fake smile.

"Baghra. I wish I had the mood and time to talk to you. Unfortunately, I don't have the former, and I'd rather spend the latter on something else. Have a nice night." You turn on your heel, intending to make a quick escape, but the woman summons her shadows, blocking your path. You sigh, tired of dealing with another Morozova, and face Baghra again.

"Your methods don't work." You almost growl at the pretentious tone in her voice. She expected you to work a miracle, knowing full well what her son was like… and knowing full well why he was as hostile towards you as he was.

"Did you really think he'd just follow me and hang on every word I say? He's not some fucking puppet you can order around. He needs to trust me again. At least when it comes to saving Ravka and Grisha."

"Well, it seems like he won't come to it so soon. I thought you had a little more influence on him. Maybe you actually broke his naive little heart?"

The silence that follows her words is like a slap in the face to your pride. You can barely push back the unbidden tears, and it takes a huge amount of effort to control yourself when Baghra is giving you her infamous mocking smile. The old woman had the irritating ability to scratch open wounds that you thought had long since healed. Besides, she knew perfectly well what, or rather who, your only sweet spot was.

"Then I did exactly what you wanted, right?" You ask; he winces a little when he hears the slight tremor in your voice. Damn witch.

"I told him to stay away from you. But the stupid boy didn't listen; he loved you so much. Witches like you, wielding such power... you're all the same. You have no feelings. Self-absorbed, wanting to live forever. Tell me, Y/N, what did you need your eternity for? Was it worth it to fight for? Has it paid off for you to deceive my stupid son for so many centuries?"

"Without Aleksander by my side? No. But at least I can keep an eye on him. At least I can make sure that he will survive long enough to get his happy ending. And torment you forever. Until the end of time, my dear mother-in-law. Or your death. I personally prefer this one." You give her a contemptuous look and turn away from her, walking into the darkness of her shadows to reach your rooms and escape, just for a while, from feelings of guilt, helplessness, and wrath that the damned Morozovas have aroused in you.

"What do you mean by mother-in-law?" Baghra asks, confounded, but fortunately she doesn't follow you. She's everything but dumb. She won't expose herself to possible harm as a result of you unleashing your wild power.

"Ask your son!" You shout over your shoulder, not stopping for a moment.

You know perfectly well that a minute longer in Baghr's company would make you cry. And you promised yourself that this old witch would never be the reason for your despair again… her son was another matter.

So when you get to your room, you wave your hand over the windows to close the curtain with your magic, turn off all the lights, and let yourself curl up on your bed. You sob quietly, lying on your side, legs drawn up as you grip the necklace tightly in your hand and let yourself have a much-needed crying session. Your head spins as your power slides through you, causing storms outside. And you can only hope that Ulla is keeping Aleksander busy enough that he doesn't see the rain your crying has caused. The last thing you need is to show him how much you still care.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" You shiver as Aleksander wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your bare shoulder. His light stubble pricks your skin, but you don’t care, too fascinated by the rings on your joined hands.

"About 10 times, but who's counting?" You mumble and turn around in his arms. A smile creeps onto your face as you gently cup his cheek in your hand. "Husband. That's weird."

"Weird? Why?" He asks, frowning at you in confusion. Yet his grip on you doesn't loosen at all; if anything, he tightens it, protectively wrapping himself around you, as if his touch alone would be enough of an anchor for your raging thoughts.

"I can't believe that such a handsome and powerful man is mine. Only mine." You whisper and press your lips to his cheek.

You smile, feeling his breathing quicken slightly, and you start to feel his familiar, comforting scent surrounding you. And warmth. Which was pretty important, considering you were in a cold, damp, abandoned cabin in the woods. All alone, out of nowhere. You wouldn't trade that honeymoon for anything.

"I was yours long before we exchanged those rings. And I will be yours long after today. For as long as my heart beats and beyond. You are a part of my soul, connected to me by a force I cannot fathom. And I am grateful for anything or anyone that bound us together, that brought you on my path."

"You can't promise me things like that. You don't know what the future will bring." You mumble, panting as he begins to press kisses into your neck. You sigh and tug on his hair as he bites into you. You decide that the beard is a rather… nice new accessory. Especially when it teases your skin so nicely.

"But I can promise you today. And then tomorrow. And the day after that. And so on and so forth, until all eternity."

“Assuming we have forever.” You moan, intoxicated by both his words and the caresses of his lips and hands as he slowly removes your dress.

"I will fight with everything I have to always have you by my side." He promises fervently, cupping both of your cheeks and placing a hot kiss on your lips that instantly warms your insides. You smile as he pushes you onto the bed.

"Even with your mother?" You tease him and raise a questioning eyebrow at him. You almost break and snort at his hurt expression.

"I'm offended that my mother even crosses your mind in this situation, let alone that you're brave enough to talk about her." He mutters menacingly and reaches for your sides.

Before you can react, he's tickling you, attacking all your weak points. You laugh and squirm beneath him, screaming at him and cursing him to stop, but he just laughs and redoubles his efforts. And as much as you can't breathe anymore and are almost crying from his teasing, you enjoy his wicked, carefree laughter.

“Mercy! Mercy!” You cry out with laughter, and he finally takes pity on you. You laugh some more, recovering as he simply hovers over you and looks at you, drinking in your dishevelled appearance beneath him. “What?” You gasp, breathing deeply and wiping tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Nothing. I love you,” he says and shrugs. Your heart clenches and warms at his words, and another wave of tears nearly fills your eyes as he reaches for your hand with the silver claw ring he placed there just an hour ago.

“I love you too. More than anything.” You mumble, grabbing the glass heart that dangles from his necklace—your wedding gift to him—and pulling him to you, connecting your lips in a needy, heated kiss.

You would give away all the treasures in the world to have back that ring on your finger instead of the heavy pendant on your neck that felt like a muzzle for you. The muzzle of your eternal sin against Aleksander and you both.

"You again?" You allow yourself to roll your eyes when you enter his cell a few days later, which he greets with his mocking smile and cold gaze. He frowns, however, when this time, instead of sitting in the chair like you always did, you walk over to the bars separating him from you.

"Do not worry. I won't bother you much longer. Actually, I came to say goodbye."

You say and hand him a small box through the bars. You wait patiently for him to come over and take it from you, but his wounded pride apparently won't let him do even that. You roll your eyes as he turns his back to you and shifts his gaze to the book in his hands.

"Goodbye? That's not really in your style. Since when do you say goodbye instead of disappearing into obscurity?" He mocks you without even bothering to look at you. You swallow and nod, only now realising just how deep his resentment of you runs. But you don't have the strength to fight him any longer.

"Well, I learnt that from you, but since we're not together anymore, I guess I'm ditching your habits for some new ones."

Over the centuries, you and Aleksander have gotten back together and broken up a million times. You let him come back into your life as if he had never ripped your heart out and taken it with him countless times. Each time he was leaving, he put his plan into action to ensure that Grisha was safe from whatever enemy they currently had. He was choosing the good of his people over yours.

Every grand plan that was supposed to end with the restoration of freedom for Grisha usually ended in failure. And every time, he came back to you. To your arms. To hide there from the world, lick his wounds, and hide his shadows in the safety of your home.

But just as suddenly as he came, he left you. All for Grisha. His whole life was dedicated to ensuring a better fate for his people than he had as a child. And so he ended up in a cell. Alone. Maybe not completely. You knew he had many supporters in the 'underground.' But what good were supporters when he had no one to stand by his side? Supported through thick and thin?

On the other hand… you never joined him in his plans. You always stuck to your own woods and paths… it was pure fate that for a time you both followed the same one.

"Well, I'm actually glad about that. I should have noticed sooner that you're just like everyone else. The greatest liar among liars. A witch without a coven that no one ever trusted or wanted to be near."

You give him a small smile, perfectly keeping your true emotions from surfacing. You drop the box and let your magic transport it to the table he's sitting at. With a quick wave of your hand, you make the box clatter loudly against the wooden table.

Luckily, that catches his attention enough for him to finally look at you.

"You want to talk about liars and cheaters? Go ahead. There's a big war coming. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. Alina and Nikolai won't let the Fjerda get away with invading their lands and killing Grisha like they used to do and still do. So why do you pretend it doesn't bother you? That it doesn't concern you? Why do you sit here obediently and do nothing when we both know you have the means to escape? Who are you trying to convince that you don't care anymore about your people, us, or yourself?"

This time, you are the one to look away from him. You don't wait for his response and just move away from him. You walk over to the part of his bookcase that wasn't behind bars, running your finger over the titles on them.

"And who is us?" A shiver runs through your body, and you thank yourself for keeping your back to him. You don't know what he would read on your face as you say your next words.

"Ulla. Me. People that really care about you."

"You left me." He points out stubbornly again, as if you didn't know what you had done against him.

But the truth was that you had both hurt each other equally. It was just easier for him to blame you than for you. Or maybe your guilt against him was actually greater than whatever he did behind your back...

"You didn't mourn my leaving much."

"Maybe I mourned too many in my life to add you to this list?"

When you finally find the book you were looking for, you take it and turn to face him. He steps towards the bars, his hand around one and his gaze fixed on you. You can barely hold back a small smile as you see his shadows hovering in the corners of his cell.

"Believe what you want… but not everything was a lie between us, Aleksander. And you've had your fair share of lies for me, before I've even considered doing what you hate me for. Does the fact that you managed to tell me your lies before Baghra reported my secrets to you make any difference? You and I... we are similar. I am a witch without a coven, and you are a Grisha without an order. We are both alone in this world. But I admired the fact that you continued to fight, even when everyone else was against you. You may have been a villain in everyone else's story, but you've always been a hero in mine. In Ulla's. We admired you for what you were, for the strong leader who would do anything for his family and people. And who are you now?"

"I am the man your lies and manipulation created. All of yours. My mother's, Alina's, yours. So don't you dare stay here and say that I am meant to be something more when you stabbed me in my back and left when I needed you the most."

"You hated me then."

"And what gives you the impression that I still don't?" That I didn't need you even when I was furious with you?"

"I..." You're at a loss for words. You have no idea how to answer him, especially when the stormy blackness of his eyes overwhelms you as much as his words.

He couldn't mean them, could he? He couldn't be mad that you left him. He had to play with you… There was no way he'd want you around after you'd supposedly betrayed him.

You snort and shake your head at his words. No. You won't let him enter your mind and manipulate you. Although… You can't say your heart has shifted indifferently at the revelation he's told you. Because what if he really needed you by his side? What if… he loved you more than he hated you?

"It doesn't matter. Say what you want or get out." Well, his words only prove that you are right about this. And they reassure you in the decision you want to make.

"I'm going north with Alina. You can either join us or rot here. And to be honest, I don't care anymore. I was never your enemy, Aleksander. But if you so desperately need one, then all right. Make me your villain. But know that everything I did, I did for you. For us. Even if I hurt you in my desperate attempts to protect you, for which I do not intend to apologize. Everything I did, I did for us, for you. But maybe it really is time to change things between us once and for all."

After your words, you take a few seconds to look at him. Your gaze lazily follows his dark hair, his eyes, the set of his jaw. Without a word, you nod to him and leave, as if saying goodbye for the very last time.

"Protect me from what?" You hear him walk over to the table and open the package in a hurry. Then he freezes when he sees the familiar object you've placed there. "Y/N?! Answer me! Y/N!" He shouts after you, banging on the metal bars, but you don't spare him a second glance. You just walk out of there, hoping your little trick will work.

Because if he won't follow you to war after you give him a necklace with his blood—the same blood you tricked him into taking and enchanting to give you immortality—then you don't know what'll get him out of that stupid cell.

Taglist (I hope that everyone who wanted to be there are there. If not, I am soooooooooo soooo sorry): @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat @barnes70stark

@zeeader @the-desilittle-bird

@thepassionatereader @budugu

@sinistersnakey @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic

@aryhyuuga

@oh-thats-cute

@meadows5