#i didn't think I'd take any of her classes again!

[bananayuyu]

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

Read it on ao3

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Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.

[neeeooon]

i think otoya is the kind of person who is aware that he is capable of changing his ways with girls when he finds the “one”, but he’s never truly believed in that. but when when like a girl transfers it’s quite literally love at first sight and he wants to change for her. you can decide whether she gets with him or not, thanks so muchh !! ^^

aww yes i love this idea tysm!!

love of my dreams

otoya eita x fem!reader. ft. karasu and yukimiya. love at first sight. fluff, crack, otoya is a bit weird at the start, cussing, slight death/kms joke at the end. wc: 810

“fuck.”

otoya just told karasu and yukimiya how much he liked his bachelor life. how he wasn’t ready to change. to settle down.

and then you just had to walk through those damn doors.

“fuck.”

you had a guide at your side, telling otoya you were a transfer student. his eyes were glued on you, and every step you took, unable to tear his gaze away. he wanted to know your name, where you transferred from, and what you were studying. probably something similar to him, as you were being toured through his building.

a sharp jab caused him to curse again, and otoya shot a glare at karasu and the cheap plastic butter knife he’d been stabbed with. “yer staring.”

“of course i’m staring. i’m in love.”

“you don’t do love,” yukimiya chimed with a snicker before shoving a forkful of salad into his mouth. “that’s your whole thing.”

otoya didn’t want it to be his whole thing anymore—not after seeing you.

he continued to think about you through the rest of his lunch, then his classes, his drive home, and even while he was texting yukimiya for answers to their finance homework. he didn't believe in love at first sight, at least he didn't think he did. you changed that so quick, otoya was still reeling six hours later.

otoya: i need her number

otoya: pls be my spies pls pls pls

karasu: i never thought i'd see down bad otoya like for real and not just to get pussy

otoya: is that a yes

karasu: for all we know she has a boyfriend

yukimiya: or a girlfriend

otoya: GODDDD IM GOING INSANE I NEED HER SO BAD

otoya: she's the one for me. i'm done. no more playboy otoya.

yukimiya: if you're serious. REALLY SERIOUS. i'll help

karasu: same ig

otoya: there's a special place in blowjob heaven for you two 🙏

and two days later, with the help of yukimiya and karasu, otoya had intel. they also told him you had a gap in your schedule and ate lunch by yourself in the dining hall.

and when otoya saw you? he was nervous.

your hair was pulled away from your face, the eraser-end of your pencil tapping your lips as you concentrated so hard on your homework that a delicate crease formed between your brows. otoya wanted to smooth it out with his thumb and kiss the spot instead.

shaking his head, his grip tightened around his sandwich as he slowly approached you. when you looked up, otoya felt his face grow hot. "sorry to bother you. is this seat taken?"

you rapidly shook your head and gestured to the chair. "no, no, you can take it! just make sure you put it back—"

"i mean, is it okay if i sit here?" he quickly cut off with a small grin, his chest fluttering when you blushed in embarrassment.

you dropped your pencil to hide your face in your hands. "oh my god, i'm so... yeah, yes, you can sit here." shaking your hands out to release some of the stress, you flashed a bright smile. "i'm y/n."

“otoya,” he greeted casually, as if a flock of butterflies didn’t make a home in his stomach.

you repeated his name quietly to yourself before nodding. “i think i’ve seen you in this building before. what are you majoring in?”

when he told you, your eyes lit up so brightly that otoya swore they glittered. “no way! me too! weird that we don’t have any classes together, though. maybe next semester!”

the rest of the time spent before your next class was filled with the two of you talking. otoya thought he'd fail at the genuine small talk thing since he didn't want to use any of his usual lines on you, but he was surprised at how easy it was. whenever he got quiet, you were right there to pick up where he left off.

"this might be too soon," otoya started as he walked you to your class. "but would you want to hang out again tomorrow?"

your smile faltered slightly, and otoya was ready to jump over the rail and fall to the first floor. it wasn't too far down, so he probably wouldn't die, but if he hobbled in front of a truck right after—

"i don't have this class tomorrow," you explained gently. "but would thursday work instead?"

fireworks exploded behind otoya's eyes, along with the relief of no longer needing to die. he readjusted his grip on his bag strap and flashed you a slow grin. "thursday works. same spot as today?"

you beamed. "yep! oh, and here's my number, in case i'm late or we have to reschedule!"

otoya knew, as you entered your name into his phone with a cute emoji, that he would eventually die a happy man.

[nineteenninety-six]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Chocolate Bars and Injuries [2]

Pairing: Jack Abbot x Reader

AN: It took a while but it's finally here but I fear there will be a third part and mayhaps a fourth

Synopsis: Fate is on Jack's side as he meets you again and finally asks you on a date.

Tags: @darksparklesficrecs

PART ONE PART THREE

"So, are they gonna have beer at this party?" Jack asked as he followed Robby into Langdon's backyard.

Robby shoots him an unimpressed look. "It's a child's birthday party Jack."

"So, that's a 'yes'?"

Robby rolls his eyes as he steps into the backyard that was filled with music blasting and screaming children as they ran around the yard and climbed the bouncy castle the Langdon's rented. Parents were scattered around, talking to each other whilst keeping an eye on their children. The men dropped their gifts off at the designated gift table before they made their way over to Frank, who gave them a painful smile.

"I think I'd rather work a double than host another childs birthday party" Frank admits.

Jack nods agreement, despite the fact he did not have a child but regardless, it looked painful. As he looked around the bustling yard, Jack spied Cassie Mckay with her kid Harrison and Dana with her daughters who were older than the rest of the kids but seemed to be enjoying themselves.

As Robby and Langdon talked, Jack wandered off to the snack table, eyes laser focused on the bowl of chocolates. He was so focused on digging for his favourite he didn't clock the person approaching him until they were pressed against his side, breath tickling against his neck.

"They don't have any bounty bars do they?"

For a brief moment, Jack thought he was hallucinating, after all you had occupied a permanent place in his mind and he could not stop thinking about you but when he whipped his head to the side, you were really there, pressed up against him with a smirk on your lips.

"What the hell?" Jack stared open mouthed at you.

"Apparently, Caspian and Tanner Langdon are in the same class." You explain but your focus was on the bowl of chocolate,"I'm guessing you work with Frank?"

Jack nods, offering you a twix which you accept with a resigned shrug " Yeah, he works day shift."

Your eyes flicker up to the bright blue midday sky, a smile lifting your lips. "And did they force you to come on your day off or are you working tonight?"

"It's my day off, besides it's good to foster stronger relationships both in and out of the workspace" Jack parrots the words Robby had told him earlier that day, "Or so Robby says"

"Robby?" You question as the two of you left the snack table, heading towards the drink table.

"Michael Robinavitch but he prefers to go by Robby" He motions towards the slightly older man who was still with Frank.

"Is he a doctor too?" You ask, a teasing smile on your lips "And what do you like to go by? Or do you prefer me calling you Dr Abbot?"

"You call me Jack" He doesn't raise to your teasing words as he nods, cracking open a can or beer with a pleased smile.

"Are all your friends doctors, Jack?"

"No..." Jack takes a sip of beer, "Some are a couple of old military friends"

"Huh" You pick up a can of soda, "So all of your friends are just people you've worked with instead?"

Jack grins and follows you back to where you were before, settling in the chair beside you and it quickly becomes obvious why you've chosen this specific space—you had a clear view of Caspian, wincing whenever he played around too hard.

"He's gonna land himself back in hospital" Jack says, watching as the child throws himself around.

You grunt in annoyance and agreement, "Don't threaten him with a good time. He now thinks hospitals are great. He'll demand that you'll be his doctor though, he really likes you."

A smug grin works its way up Jack's face at the information, "Oh yeah?"

You turn to face Jack, "Yeah, I tried explaining that we only go to the hospital if we're hurt or injured, which of course he took it as, 'let's get hurt so we can see Dr. Abbot'".

Jack knocks his foot against yours, something that prompts a smile from you, "I guess that means we have to see each other more often then."

"I guess so," You're smiling.

Just then Caspian ran over, leaning against you as he tried to capture his breath and happily taking the bottle of water you offered. The young child had been wrapped up in having fun and then bugging you for snacks that he hadn't noticed the doctor that he liked so much right next to you.

You waited until he had gulped down a few mouthfuls of water and had caught his breath before you brought it up, "Hey, are you not going to stay hello to my friend?"

Caspian looks over at him with wide eyes and there's a brief moment before Caspian realises who he was and when he does, a smile so large takes over his face.

"Dr Jack!"

"Hey kid," Jack holds his fist out for a fistbump which Caspian eagerly does, "You can just call me Jack. I'm not your doctor anymore."

Caspian nods and he moves to speak again but a classmate of his calls his name and Caspian darts off, rushing off to play making you and Jack laugh.

Robby makes his way to where Jack has tucked himself away in the corner of the yard, taking a breather from the party that had only just started to die down. 'Happy Birthday' had been sung, gifts had been opened, party bags had been handed out and now the kids were crashing from the busy day they had and parents were taking the opportunity to go back home, thanking and waving goodbye to the Langdon's as they left the yard.

Jack's eyes had hardly left you all day, even when you joined the women and he was with the men, they would constantly flicker over to you and of course, Robby hadn't missed it.

"So…who's the girl?" Robby asks, passing Jack another beer.

"She's not a girl, she's a woman in her thirties" Jack preemptively defends himself, "She came into the ED months ago with her younger brother."

"And you've exchanged numbers? Gone on a date?"

At Jack's silence Robby can't help the bark of laughter that escapes him, looking at his friend incredulously. 

"After the life you have lived, the things you have experienced, you're scared of asking out a woman? Seriously?"

"I'm not scared" Jack quickly defended himself.

"Then," Robby took the beer out of his hand, "Go get her number before it's too late."

Jack knew he was right, he fumbled it last time and meeting again gave him a chance he thought had long gone.

Jack made his way over to you as you packed up your stuff, Caspian was slumped against your leg half asleep. You had already thanked the Langdon's for the great day and now you were contemplating how you were going to carry both Caspian and your bags back to the car when Jack appeared by your side.

"Need a hand?"

"Oh!" You give him a grateful smile. "Yes please, do you mind carrying him?"

Jack bent down and picked Caspian up effortlessly, the boy's arms quickly wrapping around his neck as Jack supported his body. He silently follows you as you say your goodbyes, pointedly ignoring the curious stares from Robby, Dana, Mckay and Langdon, knowing that when he returns to work he'll be the main topic of gossip.

He follows you to your car, settling Caspian in his car seat and watching as you strapped him in, double checking that everything was secured properly before you stepped back and closed the door quietly.

"Thank you again."

Jack steps closer to you, his head lowering so he can speak softly into your ear, "I talked myself out of it last time but I refuse to let anything stop me this time."

You tilt your head slightly closer to his, waiting for him to continue speaking.

"I want to take you out on a date. And another one after that if you'll let me." Jack 's gaze is unrelenting as he stares at you. "I'd also like your number as well."

You hum at his words and smile up at him, "You want a lot of things don't you Jack? It's a good thing I want those things too. Pass me your phone."

Jack unlocks and passes his phone to you, watching with an unwavering gaze as you tapped in your phone number and then drop calling yourself so that you had his number.

"I expect at least a phone call after your little speech" You joke as you pass back his phone.

"I'II see you soon"

"I hope you do" You wave at him before you enter your car, driving off moments later and Jack watches until your car disappears.

Jack does contact you after the party, a message coming through your phone just as you finish tucking Caspian for the night. It was a simple text, just checking that you got home safe but once you reply, you can't stop and the two of you text all night until the early hours where you eventually drift off. You did briefly apologize at one point for keeping him up all night before he reminded you that he worked nights and therefore she wasn't keeping him up, rather he was keeping her up.

Scheduling a date however ends up being much more complicated. Between your regular nine-to-five, his twelve hour night shifts, and finding a good sitter for Caspian, finding a date where everything lined up was difficult but you managed and now on the evening of the very awaited date, you were sat in your room as you did the final touches of your makeup as Caspian became accounted with the babysitter downstairs.

You check your phone and realise you're rapidly approaching the time Jack had promised to pick you up and you knew that Jack was a punctual person, always turning up on time. You make your way downstairs and watch as Caspian gets to know the neighbouring teenager who had offered their babysitting services. It was the first time you had gone out by yourself since your parents had died and you got custody, so today was a big deal for the both of you.

The doorbell goes off and you hurry over to open it, smiling at Jack on your front step, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Good evening" Jack steps forward and presses a kiss to your cheek before passing you the flowers with a shy smile.

You accept them with a happy hum and invite him inside, waving for him to follow you as you head to the kitchen to find a vase.

"Thank you for these" You thank him as you fill a vase with water and place the flowers in it, humming happily as you admire it on the kitchen island. "I don't think I've ever been given flowers by a date before."

"I assure you it won't be the last time you get flowers from me" Jack flirts, watching as your eyes light up at the meaning behind his words.

"You're promising me a second date before we've even started our first date? You're that confident?" 

"That a problem?"

"Nope. I do like a confident man." You wink, before you grab his band, tugging him behind you as you leave the kitchen, "There's someone that really wants to see you before we leave."

"Yeah, I want to see him too. I got a little gift for him as well."

"Are you buttering him up or something?"

"Or something" Jack keeps his secrets close.

Caspian is ecstatic to see Jack again and becomes over the moon when Jack pulls out a hot wheels car for him, jumping into the man's arms as he chants 'thank you' over and over again. 

You manage to pull Caspian off of Jack before you pull him into a hug, squishing him as you cover his face in kisses as you say good bye, promising him that you'll be home to tuck him in and after that you leave, waving at Caspian one last time before you close the door behind you with a heavy breath.

"You alright?" Jack asks as he guides you towards his truck, hand resting on the small of you back.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm excited." You reassure him, "I'm just still getting used to the whole being a parent thing and juggling my time and responsibilities along with caring for him."

"You're doing a great job-" Jack lets out a laugh at your disbelieving expression, "The kid loves you a lot. Seriously. Don't doubt yourself."

Jack steps forward to open the passenger door to his truck and helps you step up into it, pausing when your hand rests on his arm, thanking him for his kind words which he responds with a smile and a squeeze to your thigh before stepping back, closing the door and making his way to the driver's seat.

"Oh I love Indian food," You hum happily, thanking the server as he guided you to your seats and passed menus to the both of you.

 "I found this place shortly after I moved to Pittsburgh" Jack tells you, "A hidden gem, one of my favourite places in the city."

You peer at him over the menu, "Then I trust you to order what we're eating tonight."

Jack stared back with raised brows, "For the both of us?"

"Yup!" You nod, "You up for the challenge?"

Jack accepts the challenger with ease, never one to back down from one.

"How's your spice tolerance?"

"High…I love a little spice."

Jack knocks it out of the park and orders dishes that you absolutely fall in love with, making him promise to bring you back another time which he agrees to with an easy smile. 

After dinner, which of course Jack pays for without question, you decide to take a walk, your hands intertwining easily as you stroll through the streets together with Jack pointing out the restaurants he'll take you to on future dates. You end up finding a coffee shop, settling in a booth with a decaf tea for you and a regular coffee for him.

"I keep thanking you for tonight but this has been a really great day, I've enjoyed a lot" You tell him around sips of your tea.

"I'm just sorry for not getting your number all those months ago"

"Well you have plenty of time to make up for those lost months" You tease, "I don't doubt you will make the most of it." 

"Never again," Jack promises.

Jack pulled to a stop in front of your house, putting the car in park before he turned to face you to find you already staring at him, a soft smile on your lips. 

"You see something you like?"

You hum, eyes tracing over his face taking notes of his deep eyes, greying hair and curls. "Yeah, I see something I like alot."

With quick succession you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean across the console, your hands pulling him into a soft, almost shy kiss that is almost immediately deepened by Jack. His own belt comes off as he leans further into you, his hands framing your face as his kisses become deeper and more intense.

You pull away to catch your breath, laughing at the remnants of your lipgloss smeared around his mouth.

"Cherry?" Jack hums as he licks his lips.

"Uh-huh" You wipe the leftover lipgloss that was on his face with your sleeve, "You like?"

Jack leans forward, his lips brushing against yours, "I'm not sure, I need another taste to be sure."

You kiss again, minutes drifting by as you each get lost in the sensation of each other's lips until you pull away, giggling at Jack's huff of disappointment.

"I know," You coo at him, "But I do have to go home,"

Jack is silent for a moment, keeping eye contact with you until he sits back up straight, "Okay, I'll walk you to your door."

He of course sneaks in one last kiss before you slip your key into the front door and unlock it, alerting the occupants of your return. Caspian's eyes are heavy and his footsteps slow as he greets you at the door and he doesn't even perk up at the sight of Jack, it's obvious that he was delaying his sleep to wait for you.

You quickly fish out the cash to pay for the baby sitter and thank her, your eyes not leaving her until she was safely in her house across the street. Then  you crouch down in front of Caspian, running your thumbs over his chubby cheeks before you press a kiss to each cheek.

"Why don't you go up to bed and I'll be there in a few minutes okay?"

Caspian nods before heading off, only stopping to wish a 'nightnight' to Jack who wishes him the same before he disappears up the stairs.

Jack smiles when you pull him into a hug, resting his chin on your head as you two stay like that for a moment before pulling away.

"Tonight was lovely" You tell him, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers, "I can't wait for the next one."

"Me either." Jack tugs you towards him and pulls you into a kiss that leaves you breathless.

"Goodnight doll," Jack grins at you before he walks back to his car.

"Goodnight!" You call after him, "Text me when you get home!"

Jack flashes you a thumbs up before climbs into his truck, driving off shortly after.

[violetarks]

hello hello!! congrats on 3k. i love your work so much so you deserve it!! ^_^

if it’s okay could i request luka from alien stage with miscommunication & high school au? ( ´ ▽ ` ) and if it’s okay could the reader be amab? thank you!!

congrats again!!ヽ(；▽；)ノ✨✨💖💖

“but we can’t take back all the words that we said!”

show: alien stage

character: luka

summary: you overhear luka tell his friends that he missed being in ‘the single league’.

warnings: g/n! reader, no pronouns used (i didn’t end up put any gender indications at all, i hope that’s okay!!), miscommunication, high school! au, hurt/comfort, angst/comfort, reader is very self-conscious, established relationship, popstar! luka, he’s nicer in this au LMAO

"are you kidding me?" luka laughs out from inside the classroom.

you recognised that sound from anywhere. it was lunch time and you had told your boyfriend that, as class president, you had to prepare some things for the upcoming school festival during lunch, so you wouldn't be able to eat with him. he was a bit whiney and teasing, but soon let you go. you thought he'd be with some of his friends from his choir class, but no; he was in the classroom with a few of his peers.

you stop before you enter to talk to him for a bit. you were wondering what he was doing here.

"i mean, it's a bit hard, isn't it?" someone says.

"i wouldn't say it's hard," luka sighs out, "it's just a bit of a hassle trying to work around other people."

you're even more curious now. you hold your clipboard to your chest and wait to hear more.

"do you ever miss it? being on your own?" another person asks.

you stop, even halting your breathing in case he would stop talking because you were there.

dating someone as popular as luka was hard, but it was worth it. he was such a handsome guy and had an even sweeter voice. it was hard not to fall for him. you felt lucky enough that he loved you too. he was always on tv or always in the studio, and he brought you along too. you wondered the same thing sometimes; did he miss not being in a relationship?

you weren't a jealous person, but you didn't enjoy luka having a partner in music videos or anything. you had told him such, and he told you that he could fix that. maybe he didn't like the hassle.

"oh, of course," he replies far more quicker than you'd like, "i'd much rather be a single idol. i could do whatever i want, but now… i always gotta’ think of others. such a pain…"

the others around him begin to ask questions about why, but you only stand still. hearing it for yourself only confirms it; luka didn't really want to be with you. it only made his life harder. you somehow always knew that.

he probably didn't want to be rude in fear that you might spread something around to everyone that he was a bad boyfriend and ruin his reputation. or maybe he was just bored.

after all, you weren’t a popstar like him. you were just another student.

“y/n, hey,” mizi and sua turn the corner to see you. the pink-haired girl holds out a pamphlet to you with a smile. “here, this is what we came up with for the concert. is it okay?”

you take it from her and try to ignore the tears threatening to spill. you don't care to stay and listen to more. instead, you turn around and walk away with the girls at your side. you couldn't let him know that you knew, not until you were ready.

after school, luka is waiting at your locker. he is leaning against the wall and scrolling on his phone with his bag on his shoulder. once you're close enough, he tucks his phone away and smiles.

"hey, pretty thing," he greets you as you put your books away, "how was your little presidential duty?"

"it was fine," you retort shortly as you pack up your things, "don't you have a recording today?"

"oh, uh, yeah," he says as he watches your face, "it's later though, i can walk you home."

"it's okay, luka, i need to do some things before i go home anyway," you state as you shut your locker. you look back to him and his pretty face that tilts at you. it takes everything in you to not show that you’re upset. “i’ll see you on monday.”

“hey, wait,” he grasps your wrist as you try to walk passed him. he’s a music sensation, he knows when people are upset and when people are angry with him. you have both of those looks on you. “what about…?”

you two are supposed to go out together on sunday. you had organised something this time — a nice picnic by the lake. the both of you were so excited for it. until now, that is.

“oh, right,” you sigh out. he freezes as you lean closer to him and press a kiss to his cheek. “have fun.”

with that, you slip out of his grasp and leave. luka doesn’t call out. maybe you were just not in the mood, or it slipped your mind and you would come to your senses later.

he texts you when he gets home, when he leaves two hours later for his recording session, and when he gets home. he even sends you photos of his dinner with him and his new band. you only heart the photo and reply dryly. you’ve never acted like this.

you just want to make it easier for him to break up with you. maybe if he realised how little you added to his amazing life then he’d finally agree to let you go.

saturday comes and goes, and finally sunday does too.

sweetheart

sorry, can’t come today, i have some things to organise before the school fest next week

luka stares down at the text with his other hand holding the picnic blanket. he stands outside his door in dismay. at this point, he’s had enough.

love

seriously? whatever.

there, you think, he’s finally done with you.

he's gotten annoyed with this change of pace. you weren't acting like yourself, and he hasn't had any good time to ask you about it properly. you just shrug it off and then leave.

he tries to think about what he did, if he did anything, and nothing comes to mind. maybe he forgot to pick something up for you? or maybe he made you miss an important meeting? he couldn't think of anything.

monday comes around and you’ve prepared yourself. you two haven’t spoken since sunday morning and you’ve found it a bit hard to do so.

luka is upset with you, and you feel unable to be enough for him. so you put your things away, attend homeroom and explain the plans for the festival that runs from wednesday to friday, and head off to help your peers.

“y/n,” a voice calls from the doorway. you glance up from painting something. luka stands there with crossed arms. “can i talk to you for a sec?”

you stand up and and follow him out to the school yard. everyone else is planning their things for the festival, so nobody would be out yet.

“okay, out with it,” he grumbles with furrowed brows, “what’s going on with us? you’ve been totally gone and i have no idea why. did something happen?”

you don’t say anything, despite what you want to say. and that makes luka a bit more upset.

“y/n, seriously. can you just talk to me? i really wanted to see you yesterday and…” he holds his breath as you continue to stare at the floor, “why are you being so distant? you act like you want nothing to do with me! and instead of talking to me, you just—”

“you’re the one who wants nothing to do with me,” you grumble out with a hot face. luka stops. “you and… you just want to be by yourself, you don’t want to be with me anymore, luka.”

“what are you talking about?” he questions, now even more confused.

“i heard you!” you say as you jab a finger into his chest, “you told your friends that you missed being single and—and you didn’t like having me around. so i… i just thought that if i stopped being around you so much, that you would break up with me. at least then it would make sense.”

you have tears pricking your eyes. luka is almost the same, simply by looking at you. he knows what you’re talking about.

“i know it’s impossible, but i sometimes wish you and i were the same,” you mumble out, “it’s hard for the both of us, i guess. i’m sorry.”

he lets out a small sigh to himself before a smile dawns on his lips. he pushes his hair back and tugs you closer, gently.

“c’mere,” he mutters out. you’re reluctant, but seeing him with a sorry smile makes you step forward and wrap your arms around his waist. he holds you around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “oh, you poor thing. that must’ve been holding you down all weekend.”

“luka…” you say against his shoulder as tears stain his blazer.

“i know, baby, i’m sorry,” he shushes you, “i didn’t know you were nearby when i said that, i confused you. i wasn’t talking about you, sweetheart. i was talking about how much i missed being a solo idol.”

you blink and slowly lift your head from him. with slightly puffy eyes and an embarrassed look on your face, you stare at him.

“solo idol?” you repeat.

he chuckles and reaches a hand up to brush away the tears from your cheek.

“yes, i was talking about music,” he states, “not you, my love. i’m sorry that i said it that way, i didn’t intend on making you feel that way. i would’ve never said something like that if i knew it would make you feel like this.”

you can’t even look at him anymore. you cover your face with your hands.

“ah, i’m so sorry, luka,” you mumble into your hands, “i made a big deal out of nothing.”

“it’s okay, i understand, sweet thing,” he replies to you, “you can make it up to me with that picnic date if you feel so inclined.”

you nod your head at him before luka begins pressing chaste kisses to your tear-stained cheeks.

“aw, look at you, my poor baby,” he says to you, “don’t ever think i’d say such a thing. you’re my favourite person in the world, okay? don’t want you thinking otherwise.”

you wipe away your tears and nod your head again with a smile. luka grins as well at your return of personality. he leans forward and finally presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

“now c’mon,” he says after he pulls away from you, “let’s skip the planning stuff and go get something to eat.”

“no, luka," you chuckle out as he tries to drag you away. he forgets that you take your job as class president seriously. "i need to talk to class c's representative about their event."

"ivan's such a bore," he groans, "hang out with me instead."

you have to pull him by his blazer back to his classroom as he sulks behind you. you were glad that things were back to normal, at least.

[writing-flower]

“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”

First act: “From the roots”

Prologue: “Happy fifteenth birthday! (Again?)”

WARNING: Mention of blood and death.

Chapter I

Masterlist

My memory had never been the best, it was good, but not exceptional. Nothing out of this world.

I wasn't as smart as Damian or Tim, I wasn't as strong as Jason or Dick, nor was I as sharp as Bruce Wayne.

I wasn't exceptional, but I was good, but not good enough for them. For him.

God, I was so focused on getting his attention, playing sports, try to pass every subject with the highest grade, join any club like debate or math.

Anything, but all that never leads to anything.

Well, almost nothing, everything I did only caused Damian to see me as a desperate for attention, which, he wasn't wrong.

But still, it didn't make it hurt any less, every insult, malicious insinuation even the occasional threat flying through the air, each one was the result of three years of trying to get someone to look at me.

Sometimes that attention only appeared with Dick, on the few times that he came to visit and came across a scene of me with Damian, He immediately stopped him.

Forcing him to apologize, spoiler, he never apologized.

The first time it happened I thought that my attempts had finally yielded good results, but no, I dare say this was worse.

As if he gave me hope and then suddenly he snatches it away without any fanfare.

Oh wait, that's literally what happened.

And about the others, I didn't even have the chance to talk to them, simply because I was already tired and also because if Damian continued he would have more reasons to screw me.

And let's face it, nobody wants to feed the wolf because you know it bites.

In this case, the bird.

It didn't help that almost the entire family was going on patrol, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in being part of that, but then I remember Jason...I immediately got that idea out of my mind.

Mm, but if I stop to think, or rather, remember, another thing that I learned in my attempts to get my family's attention, I fell in love with dance.

It was the only class that I didn't drop like the others, I genuinely loved it.

Once in her class, the teacher made us all dance with large, long, and thin fabrics. She made us dance what we wanted, in her words: “Dance as if you were free”.

My companions danced with joy, I just stayed silent for a few moments watching them without knowing how to start.

But then I sighed to close my eyes, letting my body move as it wanted.

“Dance as if you were free” I thought, I started to imagine the music in my head. It was nice, I love it.

I went from knowing what the hell to do to starting to laugh with my classmates, I turned around and then curtsied, feeling how almost all the fabric covered my body.

I open my eyes and see my entire audience applauding, not just me, but also the rest of the dancers.

As soon as I turned eighteen I followed my teacher's advice. I didn't do it before because I was a minor, I needed my tutor's permission and blah blah blah...

Contact with my family at this point was zero, except for the new member, Duke, a sweet and kind boy.

Just looking at him made prayers come to mind for Bruce.

“If you let this kid end up like Jason, I’ll take care of throwing the Joker at you myself, you unhappy idiot.” I was thinking but also listening as Duke energetically told me what his first patrol had been like.

I used to have a certain respect for Bruce, I mean, he's Batman and he does everything in his power to make sure Gotham isn't in such a shitty place.

But then I remember that he keeps adopting children as if they were dogs to give them "A better life" by turning them into human weapons.

Sooooo, yeah, I wish that every day he wakes up with a backache and a headache.

"[Name]"

"Yes dear?" Through the mirror I watched Duke looking at me hopefully as I put on my makeup for the upcoming performance in an hour.

Oh no, I already know what he's going to ask.

"Why do you never come to the mansion?" God, I swear he does that look on purpose, brat.

I sigh as I turn around to look at him.

"You already know my answer, I have no reason to do it and I don't want to either." I said as I turned back to the mirror to continue.

"Yes! I know, but why exactly don't you want to?"

A silence reigned in the room, putting on my makeup but at the same time thinking about what to answer him.

As much as I resent the Waynes, they didn't do anything to Duke, until now, they treat him as he deserves and the last thing I want is to plant that seed of hatred towards them in Duke.

Because I know him, as soon as I tell him what my childhood was like in that mansion and those responsible, the first thing he will do is complain.

And at this point in my life I don't want any unnecessary drama with them.

I lowered the lipstick and looked at him.

"I never liked being in that mansion, since I was little I was always afraid of those giant, dark hallways, and I still am."

Duke stared at me in bewilderment. "Is that the only reason you don't want to come to the mansion?"

I nodded. "It sounds stupid, I know, but every time I walk down those halls it brings back bad memories."

That wasn't a lie.

Duke was silent for a few moments before coming up to me and hugging me.

"Aww, honey you are such a sweetheart sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Yeah, because you can be a brat sometimes too." I laughed as I ruffled Duke's hair until it was disheveled.

"A white lie won't hurt anyone." I thought while Duke laughed and tried to pull my hand out of his hair.

Without realizing it, it was already time to start. I said goodbye to Duke, telling him to go back to the mansion, but he insisted on staying.

Something I allowed, GOD, I should have begged him not to do it.

Because from one moment to the next while I was dancing, all the lights went out and when they came back on I felt like blood was flooding my mouth, like everyone was screaming in fear.

What happened? Why am I bleeding?

Duke, he was next to me trying to keep me awake, to not close my eyes.

It got to the point where I couldn't hear anything he was saying, it was complicated while I felt like a part of my body was bleeding non-stop.

I hate to see him cry, please look away... leave me here.

Please...

I don't want the last thing I see to be you crying...

Please...

She opened her eyes calmly and confusedly, all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She thought she was in a hospital because of the light.

But when her vision stopped blurring, she realized that the light was not from a hospital spotlight, but from the skylight in the wooden ceiling.

"Wait...Skylight?" She muttered, feeling her voice raspy and her throat sore.

The bed wasn't that soft, it was really hard and uncomfortable but still [Name] didn't want to get up, after almost dying...

[Name] sat up in bed right away.

"I ALMOST DIE!" She literally jumped out of bed and ran to the closet to get her clothes.

She needed to see how Duke was doing, his desperate face and the way he held back the urge to cry and couldn't, broke her heart.

But it was when she pulled out a t-shirt that she realized.

"This isn't my size..." Confused, [Name] walked over to the mirror.

If Duke broke her heart, now she's literally having a heart attack.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" [Name] could swear that any living thing that was near her would have run away in less time than it takes a rooster to crow.

She touched her face carefully, as if it would disappear or break if she touched it hard, this is so weird...a woman in her late twenties trapped in her fifteen year old self, god, what a hell.

[Name] She stepped back without taking her eyes off the mirror while she sat back down on her bed.

On the other side of the door, she heard someone knocking on it two or three times. Accompanied by a soft but direct voice calling her name.

"Miss [Name]"

[Name] immediately turned around to stare at the door, for a few short moments no one said anything, there was only silence.

"Are you okay? You didn't come down to breakfast. That's not something usual for you." Alfred said once he got no response from her.

"Yeah, I'm fine Alfred...I just stayed up late last night that's all..." She didn't know what to say, obviously it wasn't okay, but she didn't want any more problems in her head, she just wanted to focus on the main problem.

She literally just got younger, which would be a good thing if it weren't for the fact that she also came back to this damn mansion.

"Okay, miss, I'll be waiting for you with your breakfast, you need to eat something before you start the day." [Name] was about to reply until Alfred stepped in. "Also, Happy Birthday Miss."

She didn't say anything, she didn't want to.

Alfred walked away from the door, [Name] could hear his footsteps moving away through the hallways and down the stairs.

"Was it always this quiet?" She muttered in her mind as she turned her gaze back to the mirror.

She thought about her life before coming back here, it wasn't good, she didn't earn much from dancing, but... it was her life, a life that took her time to perfect.

And now, I go back to the beginning? Shit, no.

"Alive or dead, I don't care, either way I'm getting out of here..." She said with some frustration and tiredness. "Happy birthday to me...that's new."

With nothing left to lose, she gets back out of bed to find some clothes to change into.

It was her birthday and she had to look good.

And hopefully, it would be the last birthday she would spend in this mansion.

NOTES: Hi, I hope everything is okay, even if it's better than me, I had finished the 'prologue' a while ago but I was feeling a bit unsure that something felt out of place or "weird".

I repeat and reiterate, I can understand English but in terms of speaking/writing it I am still learning. Until I feel completely confident for now I will continue using the translator (my savior).

But if there are any errors (probably some, I hope not many) let me know, I want everyone to be able to read comfortably and as long as I can I will make it happen.

Anyway, I hope you like it, I love you! Muak muak💋💋

TAGS:

@crazycaoticsimp @closetreader1864

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello again. I have another idea that occurred to me during class. Does ENA know what a birthday is? It's been so long since I watched the series. If she does know, she's probably never had one for herself (definitely not a good one). What if reader found out and was like "no, you're existence is worth celebrating and I'm glad you are in my life. I'm gonna do something to prove it." I feel like this idea fits more with Series!ENA, but I think BBQ!ENA would also benefit from not having her point of existence for someone be just endless tasks for once. Thoughts on this? Don't worry if you have too many requests to do right now, I just wanted to once again throw my thoughts out there. Please have a good day/night!

It's okay! I love all these ideas ya'll are giving me. I'd like to think she does, but she's never had a good one nor one worth remembering.

But I'll do both girlies justice bc I want them to be happy <3

......

Series!Ena

It's just a normal rainy day, where you and Ena were taking shelter inside your home. You were watching a show on the 32-Bit television while she was staring at your calendar like it was the morning paper.

"[Y/n], it's come to my attention that you have a specific date marked here that is rapidly approaching."

"Um..I have several things marked on that calendar, Ena." You pause the episode to look at her. "You're gonna have to be more specific than that."

"Why, I'm referring to your birthday, of course!" Her feminine voice giggles, before switching back to her more masculine tone. "Got any special plans? Are you ready for the ritualistic songs and rites of gift-exchanges?"

"Erm...ready as I'll ever be, sweetheart."

"That's wonderful! But hmm....what day should my birthday be on this year?" She holds a marker up, looking over several dates with a quizzical expression. "June? October? February 29th? Or maybe---" You see her violently glitch into her sad form. "--nevewr! Because everyone threw my invitations away LAST yeawr!! All that time and effowt...GONE!! Just like I should be!" She slams her head down onto the table and sobs, tears and marker bleeding into the paper.

Once again, you were forced to learn something truly and utterly devastating about your girlfriend: she's never had a good birthday celebration.

Before meeting you, she was vaguely aware of the "tradition". And one random day last year, she declared it to be her birthday, simply because it felt very "birthdayish", and sent out as many invitations as she could.

Nobody else showed up, except Moony and a small hourglass dog that she kept hostage in her pocket dimension--both of whom stayed for merely five minutes before leaving her in front of a burnt turron, depressed beyond measure.

Ena told you offhand that people seemingly laughed at her invitations and rolled their eyes, claiming that her "annoying" existence wasn't worth any kind of celebration......but she acted like it didn't bother her until now.

She assumed it's because she got the day "wrong" and tried aiming for a different one this time, one that both you and her could agree upon.

But given her current wailing and the fact that you'll definitely have to order a new calendar soon....she was feeling pretty hopeless.

Luckily you're quick to come up with an idea, as you hated seeing your girlfriend like this. "Hey, how about we make it for tomorrow? I have something good planned."

"No, just fowget it. I-I'm not in the mood anymowe." She sniffles, looking at you. "M-My existence is worthless-"

"No, it may not mean a lot to some people...but it means a lot to me. More than you could possibly know." You insist, rubbing her back. "I want to celebrate you, Ena, because I love you and I'm so happy that you exist. I'm glad you're part of my life."

"...you're just saying thaaaat."

"No. I'll prove it to you. Let's just mark it down for tomorrow, okay? I promise you won't regret it." You give her a kiss, and for a moment, you see the white half of her face smile. Just barely.

"O...Okay.."

Tomorrow comes, and Ena expects nothing...yet you surprise her with turron, made from a recipe you acquired from a shady stall, decorated with blue and yellow candies and adorned with a pick featuring a popup ad that said "Happy Existence Day, ENA".

Since she's not a big fan of parties, it was just you two spending the day together and her getting calls from the few entities who tolerated her (Moony, Merci, Phindoll, etc.).

It's a great day, and you two end it going out for drinks, where she's switching between her drunk forms while ranting about how much she appreciated you (which is the most you've understood her while she was in that state), and giving you a lot of hugs and slurred words of affirmation.

But you know she means them with all her heart and soul, even if she forgets the next day.

She's so happy that her entire body stays yellow even as you both come home, and she hugs you and sincerely thanks you for proving her wrong.

BBQ!Ena

It started off as a harmless and innocent inquiry, not giving it much thought. "Weird question, Ena...but have you ever celebrated a birthday before?"

"Pfffft, have I ever taken a vacation?" Her Meanie side bluntly sneers back, staring at you as though she gave you a riddle to solve.

"Uh..not that I can-"

"CONGRATS!! You've just answered yourself! Want a gold star for that?!" She goes back to admiring the png of some unidentified organ floating between her hands, trying to determine its market value.

Although her face eventually flickers back to its Salesperson side, who appears a little guilty for her outburst. Her gaze lingers, eyes buzzing with curiosity and....a hint of longing and want.

"Apologies." She suddenly claps her hands, the organ turning into nothing but bloody ooze that dissolves into the soil. "What I meant to say was....no. I'm not familiar with such a tradition. Is the commemoration of one's existence a common practice in your workplace?"

If you're human, this is yet another simple question you could answer. But even if you weren't, you fully knew about birthdays and have celebrated some yourself, or other friends'.

Apparently, Ena doesn't even know what that entails, and/or believed hers was simply not recognized by others since her species isn't well-liked around here.

All her life, she's only ever known how to carry out endless tasks and never doubt the assignment. That was her M.O, and to take some random day off would make her Meanie side break out into a cold sweat.

But ever since that conversation, you've heard her uttering a specific date that seemed important. One that was coming up soon. She spoke of it in various ways: through her business cards she hands to clients who didn't wanna take them in the first place. Through graphs she sketches of your probabilities of success in a job, hidden in plot points. And even through hushed whispers when you're both cuddling, but she refused to elaborate further.

Either something really good or really horrible occurred on that date. It was 50/50 guess, but from what you've gathered, it was the day she broke free of her mannequin husk and formulated her own identity.

It seemed close enough to a birthday, so you rolled with it and began planning something for her behind the scenes (with Froggy's reluctant assistance).

You wanted her to know that you appreciated her existence. Meanie sometimes found it hard to see that, and Salesperson, while she understands and appreciates your appreciation, thinks you're mainly with her for the "business" and "workplace benefits"--so you had to prove both sides of her wrong.

You loved her for her, not for what she was capable of.

When that fated date arrived, you sent her an S.O.S, and she rendezvous at the scene (your house) asap, wondering what the emergency was.

Instead, she finds you and a simple surprise on the table. And for once...this talkative entity has no words.

While you weren't sure if turrons were an ENA's universal favorite, you took a shot in the dark and baked one with fluffy white powder and red candy sprinkles on top, adorning it with a pick that had a star that simply looked cool. It was small, as you didn't wanna risk messing up a big cake.

Froggy criticized your entire baking process, but you were proud of its result, and even prouder when your girlfriend took one bite, and her eyes lit up like the fourth of july.

Not only that, but you also gifted her a laminated photograph of your first assignment with Ena. It stood the test of time, covered in a few scratches here and there. She didn't even know you had a camera.

"Oh, I stole it actually. But I promised to pay them...........woah, are you crying??" You see her static tears getting on the turron, desaturating its vibrant color.

She still hasn't said a word, but she can't stop crying silently and trembling. And it scares you at first. You're convinced that you royally screwed this up and today was actually the worst day of her life--

Until her head floats a little more away from her body than usual to kiss you on the cheek.

Before Meanie takes over and lightly headbutts you. "Now look what you've done, you idiot! Getting me all sappy like this on my Existence Day is gonna cost you!" She snaps, even though she's fighting back a smile and more tears.

".....what's it gonna cost me?"

"C-Calculating........one hug will suffice." Salesperson mutters, sniffling.

"Oh! Alright. You had me worried there." You cradle her head in your arms, petting her hair. "So...I was right. Today's the day you, the love of my life, came into existence. I'm glad you were born, and I'm not listening to anyone--Genie or not--who says you should be punished for that."

Once again, you've managed to silence her, through words this time instead of actions. There's no back sass from Meanie. No business offers or quips from Salesperson.

All she does is close her eyes and allow herself this moment of joy.

You proved a big point: She is worth celebrating, and you made damn sure she knew that this was gonna become a yearly occurrence.

She won't use it as an excuse to slack off of work, but she's always curious as to what surprises you'll have waiting for her next time.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

cliche but I’m a sucker for those tropes where she’s the dare matheo’s friends made him bet on and she finds out

I love those tropes too, it hurts, but is so good. Thank youuuuuu! <3

Bet

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: Angsty, one use of 'shitty', I think that's it.

You and Mattheo had been dating for just 3 months now. It had been going great. Your dates were always really fun and nice. You always seemed to be hanging out and kissing and holding hands and just being a regular grossly cute couple. It was all so perfect.

That was until you were coming up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower to hang out with the boys. They were up there already and talking and you heard your name so you stopped to listen.

“It's been 3 months with (Y/N). I guess that means you win.” You heard Enzo say, just making you confused.

“I can't believe you did it. I thought you'd get bored of her after 2 weeks.” Theo added.

“You guys should already know how seriously I take bets. I like proving you guys wrong.” Mattheo, your boyfriend, said.

“I think you just like taking our money.” Draco said and the boys laughed.

You felt sick. You were a bet?

You stood on the stairs for a moment, just taking in the conversation and if you paid attention, you could even hear the money being exchanged, the little clinking of coins as they were being passed.

You turned around, hurrying down the stairs as quietly as you could. How humiliating. How could you face any of them again?

You actually really liked Mattheo. He was so sweet and made you laugh and made you feel appreciated. And now you just felt sick and horrible. How could someone fake all that?

You went back to your dorm, unsure if you should hurl or cry. Instead, you settled for going to sleep, not even bothering to change as you settled into your bed, hiding under the blankets. Was it embarrassing to throw yourself a pity party over a boy toying with your feelings? Yes. But right now, you didn't care. You just wanted to sleep and hopefully wake up to either that conversation being a cruel dream or Mattheo never existing.

It took a lot of tossing and turning, but you managed to get to sleep. You woke up in the morning all sweaty and still upset. You didn't wanna get out of bed. You knew getting up meant that you'd have to see him and probably confront him and you didn't know if you were ready for that.

You forced yourself out of bed anyways, knowing there were still classes today, and as much as you would've loved to sulk in bed, you couldn't miss lessons. You got ready for the day, showering and getting dressed in your uniform before heading out.

Only Mattheo was in front of your door when you opened it, holding a pastry and some drink with a look of concern. You froze, not sure what to do.

“Morning, princess. We missed you last night.” He said, offering you the food and drink.

“I was too tired.” You lied, stepping out of your dorm and closing the door. You accepted the food and drink knowing you'll probably just end up throwing it away anyways. Your stomach still felt too sick to eat.

“You could've told me, angel. I would've just spent the night with you. You know I'd rather spend time with you.” He said with a soft smile.

“Sorry. I wasn't really thinking.” You said and started making your way to your class.

Mattheo was quick to follow. “It's alright. I was just worried. Plus, I missed you.” He said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

The contact made you feel gross. It didn't feel right anymore. But you kept your mouth shut for now. You didn't want to make a scene before classes. You were already embarrassed as is, if everyone knew you were just a bet because you fought with Mattheo in front of everyone, you'd probably die.

Classes were awful. They probably would've been normal, even good, if that pit in your stomach would've left. You felt too sick to eat other than a few bites at lunch. You locked yourself in your dorm after classes and tried busying yourself with schoolwork. It was really hard to concentrate, though. Merlin, in only 3 months, you had a few pictures of him in your dorm. Not to mention a shitty necklace he bought that hung around your neck. You took it off and tossed it to your bed so you wouldn't be seeing it every time you looked down at your work. Even put the pictures away in a drawer so you could focus. 

You got so focused in schoolwork, a good distraction from your asshole boyfriend. You still felt horrible, but at least you weren't thinking of him as you answered questions about the history of magic. You didn't even notice you missed dinner as you sat at your desk, throwing yourself into work instead of sulking.

You got pulled out of your little world as someone knocked on the door. You looked at the door for a second before standing up and opening it to see Mattheo again, standing there with a plate of food and a smile.

“Hey, princess. You missed dinner, so I brought you something. I don't want you starving.” He said.

“Thanks. I was just caught up in some schoolwork.” You said as you took the plate, this time it was the truth. Even just looking at the food made you sick. Why was he being so sweet when this is all a lie?

“Is everything okay?” He asked and you noticed you were making a sour face at the food.

“I don't feel like eating.” You said simply.

“Why? Are you feeling sick?” He asked, reaching a hand out to feel your forehead for a fever.

You stopped his hand by pushing his arm away. “I'm not sick.”

He frowned at you not letting him touch you. “Then what's going on?” His eyes looked over you, stopping around your chest. “You aren't wearing my necklace.” He noted, knowing you haven't taken it off since he gave it to you.

You couldn't do it anymore. “Was I just a bet?” You asked, matching his frown.

His face softened slightly as his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out. He didn't wanna say ‘yes’ but he didn't wanna lie either.

It answered your question anyways and you felt tears stinging your eyes at the confirmation. “Don't bother me ever again.” You said and shoved the plate of food at him, letting go before he could even react to grab it, making it fall to the floor as you closed the door on him.

He stood outside your door, trying to gather his thoughts as to what to do next. You may have been just a bet to start with, but, Merlin, help him, he was falling hard for you.

You curled up in your bed again, too depressed to even think about continuing your schoolwork.

The next few days were spent trying to avoid Mattheo and his friends while getting through classes. You saw him try to approach you several times, but you dodged him every time. You missed him and you hated yourself for even thinking that. He hurt you. Why did you miss him?

It wasn't until almost a week later, when you came back to your dorm after classes, you opened the door to see Mattheo leaning against your desk, looking at one of the pictures you shoved in a drawer. You dropped your bag to the floor beside you with a sigh as he looked up at you, standing up straight as he put the picture down.

You crossed your arms as you looked at him. “I told you not to bother me again.”

“I'm sorry.” He said, taking a few steps towards you. “I'll do anything you want but that. I know you're upset. Kick me, punch me, hex me. Do whatever will make you feel better. But I can't just leave you alone.” He looked like he wanted to touch you, but put his hands in his pockets instead.

“I don't care, just leave.” You said, gesturing to the open door.

He went over to the door, but instead of leaving, he just closed it. “I'll be honest, completely honest. Yes, you were a bet. It was supposed to be something fun for me and my friends, but instead, I ended up getting feelings for you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “So what? You want me to forget that what you did hurt me? You want me to pretend that you didn't have the intentions to play with my feelings and use me for fun?” The hurt and anger was obvious in your tone.

“No. You're right. What I did was awful and I shouldn't have done it.” He said, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the floor.

“So what do you want from me?” You asked, your tone was still harsh.

“You. I want you.” His answer was immediate as he took another step towards you.

You looked away, sighing again in frustration. “I can't just forget and ignore what you did.”

“Please, (Y/N). I'll do anything.” He said, now reaching out for your hand but you step back out of his reach.

“How much?” You asked.

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he let his hand fall by his side again.

“How much? How much did you get from the bet?”

He hesitated before answering, obviously not fond of the question. “100 galleons.”

“Did you get it? You win?” You asked, the harshness in your tone causing him to shift uncomfortably.

“Yeah.” He said, putting his hand back in his pocket.

“You mean it? For real? About you catching feelings?” You asked a little softer.

“I do.” He really didn't wanna say more than you asked in case he said the wrong thing, so he bit his tongue to not ramble about his feelings towards you.

You stared at him as you thought about what to do. He hurt you, but you actually had feelings for him too. “Was anything else a lie?”

“No. Everything I said and did was all me. No lies, no acts. I was being me. The real me.” He took another step towards you.

You let out a long exhale as you thought. If he was being genuine, then you guys could restart properly. But he wasn't genuine before, so why should you believe him now?

“Please.” He said softly as he stepped towards you again, nearly toe-to-toe with you.

You closed your eyes and sighed, knowing what you were about to do was stupid. “On conditions.” You say and open your eyes to look at him.

His face immediately lit up as he nodded. “Anything.”

“I want the money.” You said and he smiled ever so slightly and nodded. “Not fair you played me and got money for it. Not fair for your friends to get it back either since they made the bet with you.”

“Absolutely. I was gonna take you somewhere nice with it and maybe buy you something, but whatever you want.” He said.

You almost smiled at the thought, but wanted to keep up being angry with him. “I want an apology and love letter. Handwritten until your hand hurts.”

“Fair.” He nodded, his smile getting bigger.

“I want apologies from everyone involved with the bet too.” You added.

He tilted his head in thought. “I can do that.”

“Better get started.”

“Right after this.” He said and cupped your cheeks, leaning in and kissing you gently. “You're so cute when you're upset.”

“I'm about to be downright adorable if you don't get to work now, Riddle.”

“Fine.” He said, stepping back towards your door. “You're gonna love me tomorrow, though! Just wait!” He smiled at you as he left your dorm.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[myth1cs]

Deal of Lust (Im Nayeon x M!Reader)

Remastered version of my first smut because it SUCKS. (I'll give Nayeon a new smut ... eventually ... maybe)

Word Count: 1,309

Walking into school you walked around with caution making sure you didn't bump into a certain someone.

You were almost to your first period class but before you reached it you were grabbed and brought into an empty classroom.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you were trying to avoid me."

"What no, I'm just really tired."

"Mhm, Anyways Y/N I trust you did my pre-calculus work."

"Actually I was studying for my exam last night so I wasn't able to finish it."

"You piece of shit!"

Nayeon smacked you and you fell to the floor. She grabbed you by your hair and lifted your head up.

"It's due today. Since you didn't finish it your going to pay."

Nayeon was about to hit you and you raised your hand in order to block her punch but before she hit you the sound of the doorknob twisting made Nayeon let go of you.

"Is there someone in here?"

The person who stepped through the door was the president of student council Park Jihyo.

"Oh Y/N you're so clumsy you have to stop falling down." Nayeon started caressing your face and helped you stand up.

"What are you guys doing in here?"

"Me and Y/N wanted to study on our own so we came in here. We were just about to leave but Y/N tripped and fell to the floor."

"Is this true Y/N."

You looked at Jihyo wanting to tell the truth but when you turned to look at Nayeon she gave you a "I'll kill you if you tell her." look.

"Yeah, I fell down I'm kinda clumsy like that."

"Okay well you guys can't be in a classroom without a teacher present so I'm advising you guys to go to the library if you want to study."

"Understood president Park, it won't happen again. Right Y/N?"

"R-right."

Once you all left the room Nayeon waited for Jihyo to be out of sight before she spoke to you.

"You're lucky she came in when she did. Have my homework done by 5th period or you'll regret it, got that?"

"Yes Nayeon."

She turned around and walked to her first period class leaving you in the hallway.

"Damn it why do I let myself get pushed around by her?"

Im Nayeon was the popular girl in school. Even saying that is an understatement she is what many saw as the person every student should aspire to be like. However you're the only one who knows the "real" Nayeon.

Once she realized you were the highest performing in school she started bullying you into doing her work and giving her test answers. She used the threat of beating your ass to keep you in check.

Reporting her would do nothing as everyone including staff had a false view of her and wouldn't take you seriously so you never bothered to do so.

You really wanted to finish her homework to avoid being punished but you were busy in every class. 1st period you had the exam you were studying for last night, 2nd period you had to work on a lab, 3rd period you were working on a project, and 4th period you had to help your art teacher set up for an after school event in the gym.

As the bell for fifth period came you tried to get to your class as fast as possible before Nayeon could find you. You settled for the longer path to your class assuming that Nayeon would assume you would take the shorter path to get to your class quicker.

However you didn't anticipate that she would correctly guess your actions and you saw her standing in the hallway as you turned the corner. "Oh shit!"

You tried turning around to run but before you could Nayeon grabbed you and brought you into the janitors closet.

"Where's my homework loser?"

"I don't have it!"

"Is that so? You know what happens now."

"No wait Nayeon please I'll do anything! Just please don't hit me."

"Anything I want?"

"Yes! Anything, just please don't hit me."

Nayeon grabbed your chin and made you face her. Laying your eyes on her you felt as if her demeanor changed from the one that was present just a moment earlier.

"You know Y/N there is one way you could make it up to me."

She put her fingers on the waistband of her pants and pulled her pants down.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

Once her pants were all the way down you noticed her pink pantie she was wearing but quickly averted your eyes.

"What's wrong Y/N? Do you not like what you see?"

You were unable to say to get words out of your mouth but eventually you were able to muster out a sentence "Please put your clothes back on."

"Don't be such a baby Y/N. Now look at me or I'll punish you."

Turning around to look at Nayeon you tried your best to focus on her face but you couldn't help yourself from trying to get a quick glance at her pantie.

"Go on Y/N stare at my clothed pussy." She put her finger inside her pantie and started to finger herself.

You watched her finger herself and felt your cock grow.

"Y/N if you fuck my pussy everyday then I'll stop bullying you."

"R-really?" You were surprised that her compromise was really lewd.

"Is that a yes or should I beat your face in now?"

Well who were you to deny her?

Walking up to Nayeon you pushed her to the wall and lowered yourself so you were facing her pantie.

"Go on give yourself a better view Y/N."

Putting your fingers on her pantie and dragging it down you got a clear view of Nayeon's wet pussy. Without hesitation you inserted your tongue into her pussy. She let out loud moans but covered her mouth quickly as to not draw attention to the closet both of you were in.

"Gah ~ ah ~ ah"

Hearing the noises coming from her made you want to go faster. You lapped every single inch of her pussy you could get your tongue on.

Nayeon took her shirt off and made quick work of her bra. Her breasts were now out in full display. She started to pinch and twist her nipples for further stimulation.

Pulling out of her sweet pussy you went up and kissed her letting her get a taste of herself. "Mhm ~ you're such a good kisser Y/N."

You reached for her pussy with your fingers and fingered Nayeon. She moaned into your mouth and you decided to explore her mouth with your tongue.

Nayeon felt overstimulated from everything she was experiencing and ended up cumming all over your fingers. So much cum came out that some dripped onto the floor.

"Agh ~ Y/N ... so ... good."

You licked the fluid she sprayed on your fingers: licking every last drop. "Do I taste good Y/N?"

"Yes Nayeon you taste amazing."

"Lucky for you you'll be able to taste this every day."

....

"Should we leave?"

"Probably not school staff is likely roaming the hallways looking for us since we haven't reported to our fifth period."

"So what now Nayeon?"

"We could just fuck until sixth period."

No words needed to be exchanged for her to know that you wanted to take her up on that offer.

The janitors closet was once again filled with moans for the rest of the period.

...

Jihyo was making her way to the bathroom and was passing by the janitors closet when she heard a moan. It was low but loud enough for her to hear.

She slowly crept towards it and laid on the floor to look inside from the crack under the door.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I prefer this over what I wrote originally. I'd like to think I've improved since I started writing and hopefully that continues.

[yeppeun-riaa]

What do you think their type of girl is: ran, rindou, sanzu and kakucho

TR MEN AND THEIR TYPE

MDNI 18+

Not proofread. Idk why rans own is the shortest because hes my fav😫, I got carried away with the rest😭,hope you enjoy tho, thank you for the ask💕!

⋆RAN

Ran is into brats! women that are stubborn, women that have an attitude that will be the death of them, women that are way to dramatic and clingy, overall just downright bratty, he'd love to put them in their place when they decide to bitch out on him, he's sadistic and loves to watch them cry while he punishes them.

'You really thought you'd get away after pulling that shit? Then fucking think again, whore, you should be glad I'm putting that dirty mouth of yours to good use' he'd say through gritted teeth while using your mouth th get himself off.

ALSO. He likes when she plays hard to get, he always up for a challenge. I think he'd also be into very studious girs, like student council, top of all her classes type shit because it boosts his ego, and melts his heart, knowing that someone so uptight would crumble within mere seconds under his touch.

⋆RINDOU

He honestly just loves women, he really isn't that picky when it comes to his type but he would fall 10× harder for a girl if she was clingy and really into pda. You might disagree but I think rindou is a moderate fan of pda😭 he just loves all the attention he'd get.... The fact that his girlfriend would always want to hold hands or want him to have his anywhere on her body, a girl that just needs him would ignite a fire in him, he may not show it but he enjoys being wanted...

Your mouth hung agape and you saw stars as rindou thrusted into you at an inhumane pace, all while bending you almost painfully over the sink. "Fuck—rin!" You cried as his hand came down on your ass, you looked like a mess as you locked gaze with yourself in the mirror, tears streaming down your face, makeup all ruined while rindou pounded into you from behind. "You just can't keep your hands to yourself huh?" He says punctuating each word with a slap to your behind. "Don't fucking cry, you wanted this and now you'll take everything I give you and thank me after" yeah... when you came back to the others it was pretty obvious what went down.

⋆SANZU

He likes himself a bimbo, a woman that's that kind, caring, innocent and downright stupid, a girl that's book smart, but stupid in anything else. The type dumb of girl that walks around in tight clothes and thinks the men staring at her being friendly, of course he gets annoyed when she fails to realize that someone is flirting with her, or when she ask the most dumb question and won't stop fucking talking, but it's okaayyy, he loves to shut her up and teach her a lesson!!

"W-wait haru! too much" you'd yelp from your spot on the bed, trying to break free from your restraints to tug him away from your aching pussy. He smirks and runs his tongue up your slit, sticking one more finger into your tight hole and sucking harshly on your clit, "you're a fucking whore, if i didn't know any better I'd think you did that on purpose because you wanted a punishment" he spat harshly at you, you lost count of how many times you came, all you were sure of was that he needed to stop because it was all too much. "Baby I'm sorry! I di-didn't know he was flirting", he scoffs slapping your cunt making tears form on your waterline, "how could you not know? He was all up in your fucking face, talking about he could be better to you than me, are you dumb, or just dumb." It was a statement, not a question and you mourned seeing him sit up to undo his pants, it was gonna be a long fucking night.

⋆KAKUCHO

Kakucho is another one that just loves women♡ he's smitten for women that are confident, it drives him crazy (in a good way) when a girl is passionate and radiates good energy. That popular girl that everyone knows and loves, the girl that every guy wants, the girl that everyone would throw hands for if she ever cried. He wants that type of girl so he can be there for her, and see the side of her no one else gets to. Even the sad side that she never shows, he'll take great pride that he was able to break down her walls and be the only one too see her In that different night. He want to be the one that makes the false happiness, that no one else could detect, real.

"Shh, it's okay" he'd whisper sweet nothings I to your ear at night while he made love to you. Some nights rough, others slow and sensual, it all depended on how you felt, and right now you were sad, all you wanted was the him to love on you, melt all the sadness away. And that's exactly what he would do.

[beautifulmadnesss]

"Just Say You Won't Let Go" Garrick x Riorson!Reader

Summary: Xaden's younger sister finally plucks up the courage and kisses his best friend, who she has always loved, but it goes horribly wrong when he pushes her away. Garrick is completely caught off guard and has no idea how to react when the girl he isn't supposed to love kisses him without warning. ANGST

"Again." He demanded despite the fact that we had been sparring for well over an hour at this point and he had pinned me every time.

"Garrick, I think we've trained enough, at this point when someone does try to kill me, I'm going to be too exhausted to do anything but pass out." I tried to reason with my trainer who had been assigned to me by my older brother.

"Again." He repeated, pushing himself up and dragging me with him. I stumbled slightly as I tried to get my legs under me, falling forward against his chest. I immediately felt the butterflies that I always felt whenever we got a little too close. Garrick has been there my entire life, mostly just because he was Xaden's best friend, but also because he cared about me or at least I hoped he did. He was usually the first to come looking for me when the boys were being a little too mean or rough. When our parents were killed, Xaden had the entire world on his shoulders all of a sudden, so when I couldn't bring my fears about the future to him, I went to Garrick. He held me and promised that no matter where we ended up, he would take care of me. Where Xaden and I always struggled with fiery tempers, Garrick was always the voice of reason, not quiet and optimistic like Bodhi, but reasonable and rational. I can't remember a time before I loved him, but I was always too scared to tell him. Maybe it was the newfound confidence since I'd joined the Riders quadrant or maybe it was the fear that I wasn't going to make it, but for a moment I was just brave enough to reach forward on my tip toes and kiss him.

He pushed me back almost immediately, "what are you doing?" It wasn't an accusation, just confusion, but the words hit me harder than any other hit he landed tonight.

My throat felt so tight that I couldn't force any words out. I just ran. My legs were already on fire, but I pushed through the pain and ran like it would dispel the earth shattering pain in my chest. White hot tears slid down my cheeks as I raced through the courtyard and up the stone steps. It was late enough that no one was out and I was grateful that I didn't give anyone another reason to target me. The tower was empty when I arrived, so I allowed myself to fall to the floor and succumb to my broken heart.

I ruined everything. Of course he didn't like me back. I was so stupid to think that there was a chance he would see me like that. Fuck. Since he was a Second Year, I could avoid him in class and in the halls, but there would be no avoiding him during our training sessions. That is unless I told Xaden and other than reliving what just happened, there is nothing I would want to do less. All I could hope is that he just would pretend like it never happened. Or maybe I could try to avoid him.

I was honestly planning to stay up here all night. No one really came up here, so it was pretty quiet, until I heard footsteps ascending the stairs. Expecting another one of the never ending attacks, I armed myself with one of my daggers and faced the opening at the top of the stairs.

"You look like shit."

"Not a smart thing to say to someone holding a weapon." I shot back at my cousin, but sheathed the dagger and returned to my spot on the stone wall.

"Garrick said I should come check on you, he thought you'd be up here." Well that's even more humiliating.

"I'm fine."

"Clearly." He sighed and took off his jacket, placing it around my shoulders. I didn't realize how cold I was until I felt the warmth cover my bare shoulders as I hadn't exactly stopped on my way out for shoes or my jacket. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked and didn't push when I simply shook my head in response. "When you're ready you can come stay in my room if you want. Can't have you dying because you're not sleeping."

"I've had enough humiliation today, I'll go to my own room to sleep." I wasn't planning on it, but I knew without the lie, he wasn't going to leave me alone.

"Good, I'll walk you over and then check with Liam to make sure you actually stay there." I glared at him, but he was used to it by now.

We sat in silence for a while until I eventually stood to go to the barracks, feeling totally exhausted. True to his word, he walked with me the entire way and I knew he would be asking Liam in the morning so I let myself collapse in my bed. I didn't even bother changing, just stored my daggers close at hand and let sleep take over.

Garrick's POV

"We may be friends, but if I ever see her crying again because of you, I will kick your ass." Bodhi's threat was so unlike him, but I didn't doubt he meant it.

"I didn't mean to. She just kissed me out of nowhere and I panicked and then she left before I could say anything." The thought of her crying because of me made my stomach turn.

"Well then, tell her that."

"I've been trying, but she's been avoiding me all day. I'll tell her during our training session this afternoon." I'd been rehearsing in my head what I would say to her, but none of it seemed right. I still wasn't really sure what I felt, but I did want to tell her that I was just caught off guard and I never meant to hurt her. I really cared about her.

Unfortunately it wasn't that easy. She was well over half an hour late to our training session and despite the fact that I had seen her just a couple hours ago at dinner I was terrified something happened to her. She had been attacked several times at the start of the year just for being the daughter of Fen Riorson, but it only got worse after Threshing. The unbounded cadets were jealous of her dragon and believed she was unworthy.

I knocked on her door several times, only becoming more frantic when she didn't answer. It was warded so I knew I couldn't get in unless she opened it. Xaden had warded it so himself and Bodhi could get in, but not me. Maybe he knew about her crush on me.

"I don't want to talk to you." She snapped as soon as she ripped the door open. I thought Bodhi said she was crying, now she just sounded pissed, like it was my fault she decided to completely change everything about our relationship out of nowhere.

"Fine, but you're late for training. Let's go." Fuck, that wasn't what I was supposed to say. I was supposed to be apologizing.

I saw the anger crack for a moment and her eyes watered slightly, but she clenched her jaw and steeled her face before shoving past me into the hall. Great. I came to apologize and now I've made it even worse. After shutting her door for her, I followed after her into the training room.

We didn't talk during warm ups outside of me making corrections to her form as she practiced combinations on one of the training dummies. We still didn't talk while doing wind sprints or even after when we moved on to leg work. By the time we started sparring the silence was deafening. She was pushing hard, even for her.

"Okay, that's enough for tonight." I said after she took a particularly hard hit to the side.

"No." She shot back instantly. "Again." She demanded, despite being clearly worn down.

So, we went again and when she got fed up with me pulling punches she scoffed and moved back to the training dummy. Her pace was unrelenting and there was no stopping her, so I just sat down on the mat trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to say to her.

She was Xaden's sister. I wasn't allowed to think about her like that. Then the apostasy happened and we suddenly weren't just kids anymore, we were soldiers in a war or at least I was, she was a Lady being prepared to one day be a Duchess. She was promised to a man who would be fitting of that title, until she wasn't. Even then, I couldn't let myself look at how beautiful she was, because I had to hold her as we were suddenly orphans and I was making her promises I wasn't sure I could keep. Then she was gone and I didn't see her until five years later. She was breathtakingly beautiful and I wanted so desperately to tell her, but I couldn't because Xaden made me promise to train her and protect her. He didn't need to ask me to do that, I would've done it anyways, but he trusted me to look after her, to make sure no one hurt her. Yet, here I was, now the one hurting her.

I heard her sniffle slightly between hard smacks to the dummy. When I looked over, I saw blood smeared across the front. Her knuckles had split and she hadn't slowed down at all.

"Okay, you're done." I said, moving to stand, but she had whirled around to face me before I was even on my feet.

"If you didn't like me, why do you always take care of me? I know I sound pathetic right now, but I don't care. I need you to tell me. Do you only pretend to like me because of Xaden? Have I just been his annoying little sister this whole time?" She seemed to regain her composure as she stood straighter and wiped her tears angrily. "Nevermind, you're right, we should just pretend this didn't happen. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" I cut her off. Her hair blew backwards in a shockwave from how fast I had crossed the room. I wove my fingers through the smooth dark waves and held the back of her head as I bent down and kissed her. I still didn't know what to tell her, but I had to make sure she knew that none of that was true. Despite the increasing fear I had that something would happen to her if I let myself act on the feelings I've fought so hard to keep buried, I kissed her like none of it mattered. We could figure out the rest, but right now all I could think about was how good it felt to finally hold her.

The moment shattered when she shoved me with such an unexpected force I stumbled backwards.

"What the fuck, Garrick?" She screamed. "Do you know how I felt when you pushed me away after I finally decided to kiss you? I've been in love with my entire life. As stupid as it seems I've dreamed about kissing you since we were kids, but I always thought you would never like me like that. Still, I risked it and then you broke my heart. Everything I was afraid of happened in the moment when you pushed me away. You don't get to just kiss me like you didn't reject me yesterday. So fuck you." She tried to push past me again, but this time I caught her wrist. I wasn't letting her leave broken hearted again.

"I'm sorry. You're right, that isn't fair. Can I explain?" I felt so out of my element, looking into her dark eyes, begging for her to give me a chance that I didn't deserve. She held out her bloody hands without a word. "Okay, you sit, I'll get the bandages."

I was welcome for a moment to gather my thoughts. I didn't want to mess this up again. I sat down in front of her with our legs touching, I took her hands in mine and set to cleaning them. "I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." I whispered, still only looking at her hands. I now felt even worse about my reaction to the kiss yesterday, because I've always trusted her, always felt safe with her and yet this vulnerability was terrifying. "You're kind and fiercely loving. You're so brave and strong. I know everyone tells you that you're all the same things Xaden is, but it's different with you. He's bigger and way more brooding." She laughed softly making my heart skip a beat. "But you're trusting and loyal without question to anyone who deserves it. It's so easy for you to know right and wrong, even when we've always had to live in the grey. You've lost so much and been betrayed so many times. I know you don't really want to talk about what happened in your foster home, but I know that despite all of that, you still trust people. I wish I could love people and trust you like you do. I've been so scared of losing you or hurting you that I didn't ever let myself consider what a life with you would be like until after you kissed me. Hell, I didn't even consider much of a future at all and I still don't really know what will happen, but I know that I want you with me for whatever it is. I'd also really like to kiss you again, but I don't want you to hit me, so I guess I'll ask this time." I chanced a glance up to her face, relieved to find that she was smiling.

"Next time you want to tell me something, don't send Bodhi to check on me. You're a thick-headed idiot, but I love you." She leaned forward and as she maneuvered so that she was sitting in my lap I completely forgot how to function. "You can kiss me now."

And I did. Pushing away any thoughts or feelings other than the complete and total bliss of losing myself in her.

Part 2

[dexxtrosee]

Neverending battle

Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x reader

TW: mentions of canon character death, mass casualty event, grief, PTSD, lockdowns

Robby's sitting outside on the steps when you get home.

You reel back slightly, unsure. He has his head between his hands, taking deep breaths with his eyes closed. He's not dirty, still wearing the same cargo pants and black scrub top he left with in the morning. The face full of grief isn’t new either.

There's added weight to his shoulders though, you can see it. It’s almost like he’s doing an effort to stay upright against a crushing weight pushing him downwards, unsure of if he even wants to anymore.

You try your best to get closer without making a sound, slow steps and controlled breathing. His hands clench slightly.

"Jake's girlfriend died on me today."

You freeze.

"Remember I told you I'd give him the tickets so he could go with the girl he told us about? Her name was Leah," his voice breaks when he says her name, "I got to see her alive and happy through a call, and a few hours later I was covered in her blood and she was dead right in the middle of the ER."

You had seen the news, had called him a hundred times before it got through and Dana had answered. He talked to you five, ten seconds maybe, just to tell you to call Jake, to tell you he loved you, that he'd get home late. A watery chuckle was what he got back, and a 'be safe'. They had both sounded wrecked in that controlled way you knew so well, Robby had mastered it ages ago.

Which is why you don’t really know what to do with what’s pouring out of him right now. He hasn't moved, hasn't looked up at you, talking to the floor with his backpack by his side. He never tells you anything, never talks about what eats him alive and wakes you up when he starts crying at midnight.

He can talk about the funny, quirky cases, not with any other details but the fun ones. The girl who broke his arm trying to see how far she could jump, the boy who had a condom stuck inside, the teacher who had an accident in class and had been sneezing glitter for two days.

A month ago he got home laughing his ass off because a bunch of teenagers had gotten to the Pitt in a blind panic from their tongues being blue without "apparent reason", fearing the worst.

They just got high off his asses with a blue brownie and didn't remember, he kept saying, tears streaming down his face from laughing too much. It had made you so happy to see him like that, so carefree and finding something nice at work for once.

The man sat in front of you is a whole different person.

Your mind unhelpully supplies that Leah must have been around those teenagers' age.

"I broke inside the ped's room after Jake told me it was my fault, a-and it is, right? It is. Over a hundred people saved and I let my- I let Jake's girlfriend die."

Irrational anger flames inside your chest.

He's just a boy, you know.

He didn’t see Robby five years ago, though. Didn't spend months having to see him through the car window only, with dark circles around his eyes and thinner than ever. He has no clue about the first time he came back home and woke you up with his retching inside the bathroom, or the way he got paranoic for days and cleaned every single surface again and again. The blind panic that would show up on his face when you so much as sneezed, how he bought packs of facemasks that haven’t run out to this day.

But he’s just a boy, you know. And you know that you would hate anyone too if they were somehow even remotely capable of saving Robby and he died anyway, no matter how crazy it would be. Grief isn’t rational.

"I don't think we're gonna be seeing Jake anytime soon, babe. Sorry."

And he says it just like that, like that boy hasn’t been the shine in his eyes for years.

You sit down next to him, pulling one of his hands away from his head and clutching it between yours. He lets you, but doesn’t move otherwise.

"I think just us two will be fine for a while."

Not like you have any option, but still, he chuckles. "You think?"

Shrugging, you bury yourself into his side, ignoring how tight his entire body feels. You wonder if, this time, it was Jack the one who had to go up and talk. It makes you pull him closer.

"You sayin' I'm not fun enough for you now? Want me to go around pulling odd shit again, like when we first met?"

Finally, he turns slowly and kisses the top of your head. His body trembles slightly, adrenaline rush wearing off. You don’t dare mention it.

"As if I'd need anything else."

You smile.

You'll pressure him into going to therapy tomorrow, again. You're not sure if you should be relieved or worried sick at the fact that your chances at winning seem better this time around, not like the hundred times before.

"Whatever you need, Robinavitch."

You stay outside until his shaking calms down, and let him cry himself to sleep with his head on your chest.

In the morning, he finally agrees.

[cherryswisherz]

PRIDE vs SELF

♱CONTAINS: longing, toxic ju, ju saves the day, oc standin on shit, long bc judea is the thinkers twigs was talkin bout ♱NIYAHSPEAKS: this is long as shit sorry for the wait guys. ju's pov dis time! part three with smut? ♱♱♱♱

it had been three months since jaliyah and i had spoken. the night she'd kicked me out of her apartment, she blocked me on everything. my number, socials, everything. not that she needed to.

i knew when i wasn't wanted, and i wasn't the type to sit and beg for a bitch to do anything. and i don't even like calling jaliyah a bitch, because she isn't one and she had every right to do what she did, but my pride would be the death of me.

that night sat on every part of my brain. the way she'd yelled at me. what she'd yelled at me.

"four months ago you would have taken me to that party. you wouldn't have ignored me, because four months ago, you gave a fuck."

she couldn't have been more wrong. liyah and i were friends before all of this, and i'd started fucking her with the intention of being more after it.

i'd had a thing for her since we met freshman year, but she'd had a girlfriend and she was crazy about her, so i played my role.

the 'misunderstood hooper who had lover girl potential but couldn't remove her head from her own ass' role. jaliyah swore that i was crazy for the way i'd moved back then, and i think that's why it took three years for us to do anything.

she was real protective of herself. jaliyah didn't play about jaliyah, and our entire friend group knew it. we'd all cracked jokes when people tried to push up on her, laughing because we knew she was not goin.

i'd admired her dedication to not give parts of herself away, and that night, Love & Other Drugs night- the first night- i'd promised myself to cherish every single one of them.

i was selfish in the way i wanted her. i wanted to take everything she held sacred and keep it for myself and bask in the fact that no one else could have it. that i had her in ways very few ever did.

the first month, i'd lost myself in her. we weren't together or anything. we were just fucking, but it all felt a little too real. always on her body, at her every beck and call, constantly looking for her in rooms she'd never even been in. it all felt too normal.

and i'm not a cornball. i wasn't scared of the way things were going. if anything, i leaned into it. i was perfectly fine with being jaliyah's lap dog.

but then i'd gotten cleared to play again, and i don't know what the fuck happened but i couldn't find it within myself to give a fuck about anything else. jaliyah became the last thing on my mind, and i didn't even care.

it wasn't that she became less important because i'd hit. sex could have never devalued her. it was that everything became less important.

missing classes, missing family functions, missing parties. i was no where but in the gym, grinding it out in preparation for my senior run.

it was gonna be the comeback of the century.

but she'd thought it was a her thing, and i didn't have the energy to explain that she'd never be the problem. if she wanted to make it about her, then she could.

i understood why she thought the way she did, but it wasn't my job to remind her that her spot was secured. three years of friendship should have solidified that.

so i went about my business. training, catching up in class, doing what i did. but she was always there. if she wasn't ignoring my presence in every room we'd shared, she was blinking at me in my mind.

i swore every time the back of my hand itched, it was her reminding me of her. that she'd helped design my tattoo. that that hand was the reason i'd never get to have her again, in any capacity.

it was bullshit, really. agonizingly painful bullshit. but again, my pride would be the death of me.

she probably wanted an apology. she wanted me to grovel on my hands and knees and beg her to open her legs for me again. like her pussy was a prize (it was), that i had to bleed to win.

i'd have done it too, except i had self respect. i couldn't go out like that. not about pussy.

however comma, (niyah here, pls tell me yall get the reference) i would have fed her grapes just to talk to her. to tell her that i was proud of her for aceing every final. to hear her tell me i was gonna be perfectly fine for my first game back.

i'd have chewed off my own arm to lay on opposite ends of her couch and watch south central baddies while killing an entire box of kool-aid jammers and destroying a family box of gushers.

of course i'd missed the sex, but i missed the domesticity of us almost more than i missed having an ACL.

♱

people on the internet claimed that kennedy and i looked alike, which was funny and all but this girl really acted like my little sister. she was hyper, and annoying as hell and especially so on this night.

she'd drug me to a club under the ruse of needing protection.

you always muggin so nobody bothers us

i went. i knew she wouldn't leave me the fuck alone until i said yes, so i fitted up and packed everyone into the benz truck.

the club was loud, the noise resembled monkeys in a zoo. the people were louder than the music, the giant fans on the ceilings were useless because the second we'd stepped in it was like we'd entered brazil. muggy, sweaty brazil.

i was just greatful that everyone seemed to remember their deodorant, because it didn't smell like ass.

we fought our way to our section and took our videos of the bottle girls with the signs and the champagne and we all stood up and sprayed it everywhere when the DJ announced that 'THE LADY TROJANS HAVE ARRIVED'.

moments like that always happened in slow motion. i wasn't thinking about the goofy look on my face when i stood on the couch and placed the bottle between my legs and waved it around like a fucking idiot. the way i looked wasn't on my mind until i saw her.

it was literally the shit of movies.

i'd tilted my head back and screamed and when my chin lowered, i'd seen knotless flying with the turn of her head. she was at the bar, and i guess she'd turned to see what all the commotion was about, and when she did- when she saw who everyone had erupted for- she froze. i don't know if we made eye contact, but i know she saw me.

i'd definitely seen her. caramel skin glistening with gold jewelry, a cuff around her bicep. she wore black and grey, baggy pants, and a tight tube top. that's all i caught before she turned her back to our celebration- to me- and continued hunting down the bartender.

i didn't let myself think about who the hell she'd came with, or what she'd planned to do when she left the club. i just auto-piloted my way through the night, allowing hands to pull me to the dance floor, back to couch, and to the floor again.

i couldn't, for the life of me, figure out how people did this for a job. promoting parties, djaying, serving. any job in the club industry seemed entirely too over-stimulating for me because an hour in, i needed a break.

i slipped away easily, the way i always did, and shrugged past a gulf of drunk people, until i finally got to the bathroom. i stayed in there for however long it took me to piss, wash my hands, zone out at my reflection, and snap my own self out of it.

when i left the bathroom, i still felt like i needed another second before going back to the section, so i stepped out the side door, texted kennedy where i was and snatched my forgotten pre-roll from behind my ear.

i didn't hear the satisfying sound of the lighter sparking, because it was drowned out by a voice i'd known all too well.

it was jaliyah. drunk jaliyah to be exact, and i'd known that by the way she was whining.

sober jaliyah didn't whine, though she'd told me she wished she was annoying enough to do it because then she'd get her way. drunk jaliyah did whatever she had to do to get the outcome she wanted. and in that moment, it sounded like she wanted to be left alone.

"nooooo," her voice was high as she dragged the word out, "i don't wanna g- let me go."

she was loud enough in the front of the club for me to hear her on the side, and i knew that someone could see her. i knew that whatever was happening- if it was bad- would have been handled appropriately.

my pride would be the death of me.

i just couldn't allow myself the peace of minding my business when it came to her, so against my better judgement i shoved the joint back behind my ear and rounded the corner.

it was dude. big, beefy nigga who was struggling to get jaliyah into his car. (his weak ass fishbowl that had expired tags.)

there was a line around the building and the bouncer was watching the whole thing go down with a slight grin, like seeing an intoxicated woman being shoved into a car was lowkey funny as hell.

it wasn't. and it wouldn't have been even if it wasn't jaliyah. but it was, so unfortunately i had to channel sierra canyon ju and push the line that much further.

"aye!" my heavy timbs felt weightless while i ran to them- to her. "the hell is you doin?"

i raised a hand and shoved one of the shoulders attached to the arm wrapped around this girl who'd haunted me for three months.

naturally, his body shifted in my direction, and he realized the voice didn't belong to a 5'4 girls girl with a moral compass. we were the same height, and he was bigger than me, but i was angrier.

still, he played it off. chuckled, like the shit was funny "it's not what you thinkin," he waved me off and turned back to jaliyah- who'd once again frozen when she'd seen me. "my girl is lit, she not trynna go home,"

this nigga-

jaliyah decided to find her voice again, and she didn't whine when she mumbled a quiet, "ju."

it was like she no longer cared about the situation she was in. she wasn't fighting him off anymore. just still, mouth closed, eyeing me like i don't even know what.

she looked confused, but comfortable. like she was glad to see me, but hurt by my presence all in the same breath.

"that's not your girl," i snarked and reached for her, "and you needa let her the fuck go."

he smacked his lips, "how you gon te-"

i wasn't even trynna hear all that, and i didn't have to explain shit to him. "let her go."

"who even are y-"

"juju?" someone was calling me from far away- kennedy.

she and londyn rounded the corner, whipping their heads in the other direction before turning and dropping their shoulders when they saw us.

"ju, what's g- liyah?" kennedy was shocked to see her, but she was even more shocked to see her being manhandled, and i knew that because she stepped up right next to me and squared her shoulders just like i had. "who the fuck is this?"

even londyn's little ass stepped to the plate and eyed the nigga before he'd decided that jaliyah was more trouble than she was worth and unwrapped himself from her.

he left her standing there- still staring at me- being checked out by ken and londyn.

her eyes never left mine, mine never left hers. i know i just did allat, but suddenly, i wanted to be anywhere but there.

there: standing on the sidewalk staring at each other like were in a netflix movie.

none of it felt real, and i had to get out of there before it did. before the truth of the situation snuck up on us and i crumbled in front of all these people.

"ken," i snapped, "go get my car." i fished my keys out of my jorts and tossed them. "lo, text the groupchat and tell em to come on."

the chaos of the front of a club continued until the girls all tumbled out of the club, and kennedy's aggy ass sped her way to the curb.

"it's too many bodies," she announced, "somebody gotta lap up."

everyone was fucked up, besides me, but we made it work, and soon everyone had been dropped off besides jaliyah.

"where we takin you?" ken asked, turning to the back where liyah was sprawled out on my seats. "liyah, cmon sis, we gotta take you somewhere."

kennedy had never been to liyah's new place, and she didn't know i had either because she was yet to be brought in on the lore. it wasn't something i talked about. she just knew liyah and i used to be friends, and then we weren't.

i stayed quiet. i knew jaliyah was too drunk to tell ken where she lived, and i'd planned on bringing her to our place regardless.

liyah just moaned and turned in the seat, concrete evidence that she was done for the night. kennedy sighed and trailed her eyes to me. i was staring forward, forcing myself into indifference.

"you trynna take her to ours?" she inquired, like she was scared that i was really boutta just leave the girl stranded. "i mean- ion know what went down between ya'll but what else can we do?"

i remained neutral as i put the car in drive, and once again auto-piloted my way home. it was war getting her in the house, but once we were in, ken dealt with liyah.

i couldn't do the whole 'i know we not cool but imma take care of you' thing.

played out, corny, so true that i couldn't allow myself to do it.

i spent that night feeling my skin cool down after being burned raw under the hot shower. i threw on a black sports bra and some essentials shorts and threw myself in bed. my passion twists would hate me in the morning but clothes was all i could manage.

in bed, i asked myself what the fuck i was doing. why i was moving like the way i was. i knew what i felt for jaliyah and i knew the issue was that she didn't.

it could all be so simple.

explain and apologize.

my pride would be the death of me.

♱

when i woke up, i walked out to jaliyah laid out in kennedy's clothes. drooling on my couch, cuddled into the cushion- she was just as beautiful as she'd been last night, all dolled up.

the domesticity.

i went to the gym because i didn't wanna just sit there and watch her sleep, but hiding from her in my own house wasn't something i could justify.

so i left, destroyed my body in the weight room, got some shots up. brent sang to me about empathetic narcissism until i couldn't feel anything, and that's when i went back to my car.

i sat there for a second, finding my breathe and my mind. i didn't know how how i was gonna explain to her why she woke up on my couch, but i feel like we had bigger fish to fry. liyah wasn't the avoidance type of person, so i knew that a conversation was gonna be had.

i wanted to talk to her, and tell her everything. that i didn't even fuck the bitch at the party. taht i only went to fucking party because i'd assumed she was gonna be there. that i thought what was understood didn't need to be explained.

but it wouldn't have mattered. she had her mind made up, and that was just that. i wasn't finna do all the begging and pleading shit. if she wanted to talk, we would. but i wasn't going out of my way to explains myself to her.

i kept telling myself that on the drive home.

i don't owe her an explanation.

i didn't even believe myself, but that's just how it had to be.

the second i stepped in the apartment, i heard kennedy and jaliyah cackling. it was a beautiful sound that died when they saw me.

"hey ju," ken smiled but her voice was too soft. i knew that jaliyah had told her everything. "imma let ya'll talk."

and then she was in her room and jaliyah was examining the floor like it held the key to the mystery of life.

"you feel okay?" i asked from the kitchen.

denial was the best course of action. maybe if i lied to myself enough, it'd feel like everything was really okay. if ignored the hole she was staring into the side of my face, her gaze would soften and i'd see the fondness i'd grown so accustomed to.

"you for real?" she was quick with it, shooting her words out like she'd rehearsed them. "no, i don't feel okay."

what the fuck did she want me to say? of course she wasn't feeling okay. she was shitfaced eight hours ago.

she never heard of small talk?

"why am i here, judea?"

she thought i hated when she called me by my full name. like it meant i was in trouble or something. and she really only did call me that when she was pissed at me, but i loved it.

every syllable sounded so familiar, like it didn't matter that no one called me that,. when she said my name, i wasn't even thinking about the fact that she was mad because she was saying my name.

"you got fucked up last night. some d-"

"i know what happened." she cut in "my question is. why am i in your house?"

"you couldn't tell ken where you lived." i shrugged.

"you-" her spine straightened as she blinked at me. "you know where i live, judea."

"yeah," i nodded, turning away so i couldn't look at her. i had to distract myself. the pattern on our cabinets had always fascinated me. "i know."

"so..." she sounded like she was getting closer, her bare feet slapping against the tile. "why did you not take me home?"

what did home mean, really?

was it a physical location, or was it an emotional space? a place that felt warm but still gave you goosebumps.

the term was so broad... you know?

she was in front of me now. kennedy's short swallowed her, she swam in the basketball shorts. her edges had been slept off.

domesticity.

i stared at her tired face. the fire in her eyes. i wanted to throw gas at it and watch her burn.

"you are home." i smiled.

i knew it was corny. i knew it would irritate her.

that was the goal, guys !

"i'm not boutta do this witchu." she moved for the door, bare foot and all. i side stepped to block her, and she shuffled to move around me. i guess she forgot she was dealing with a defensive problem, but it wa sno way she was getting outta here if i ain't want her to. "move." she gritted out, not even looking at me.

"just wai-" she moved to leave again. i moved with her, trying to get her to look at me.

to see me.

she rolled her eyes, "get out my fucking way." i didn't move, "judea i wanna leave."

i wanted to ask what that had to do with me, but i didn't wanna poke the bear too much.

"yo car not even here, liyah." i crossed my arms and smiled when her face fell at the realization. "yeah. gon head and sit back down, ma."

she turned her back and plopped down like a two year old.

"you wanna smoothie?" i asked nodding to the ninja blender that i'd went back to.

she shook her head. "if you gon make me stay then we gotta talk."

"about?" like i didn't know what the fuck she meant.

"judea, don't piss me off."

"aight, aight," i put my hands up in a don't shoot kinda way and laughed, "go head."

"i said what i wanted to say." she shrugged, "i been said it. it's your turn now."

there was so much i wanted to say. so much i wanted to explain. to confess.

but how do you tell someone that you've fucked over that you crave her. that you wanna hide her away and marvel in everything that she is? how do you say that without seeming like a fien? seeming desperate.

"i miss you." was what i came up with. tip of the iceberg, but true enough.

she laughed at that. it sounded pained and weak and so not jaliyah. "you miss fuckin me."

she always thinks its about sex. like it was all we'd done. we'd always been bigger than that but she just minimizes it.

i did miss the sex, but the sex wasn't just sex. we weren't fucking.

ion even know how to explain it, but it was so much deeper than that.

"well, yeah." i nodded because i wasn't trynna lie to her. "but nah. like... "i miss you."

her head cocked to the side and she looked at me like a math problem. "watchu mean?"

she wasn't slow. i knew she knew what i meant. she wanted me to spell it out for her, but i was scared if i started, i'd never stop.

truly spelling out the way i'd missed jaliyah meant going from a to z about how empty everything felt. how mundan it had been.

"like you're presence." summarizing. generalizing. vagueness was good. "i just miss havin you here."

that shit seemed too weak. my eyes felt a little too watery. i felt too open. too exposed.

"and i know you miss me, too."

she scoffed and straightened her face. "ion need you, judea."

she sounded so matter-of-fact. like she'd already established that she was fine.

it pissed me off, because i knew she was lying. but she was the victim here so i let her have it.

"that's wild," i shook my head. "cuz i need you."

at that point, i was so outside of my body, i didn't care how lame i'd sounded.

it was true that i'd needed her. i'd never planned on saying that, but i would yell at myself later.

the embarrassment settled in quick, though, because she didn't question it. she just sat there. quiet. staring. trying to figure out what the fuck was happening.

i didn't know if i'd ever been so real with her before, so i let her get her bearings.

she understood though.

she had to.

"you can't say shit like that to me and just expect me to spread my legs again."

here she go with this shit again. i ain't even want to sleep with the girl.

i mean i did. but id i had to prove the point, then i would.

my pride would be the death of me.

"i'm not even trynna do allat, liyah." i shook my head.

she was still in the living room, and i was still in the kitchen. there was so much distance between us and yet she felt so close it put fear in my chest.

she tilted her head again, puursing her lips and cut her eyes, as if calling bullshit.

as if to say "yeah, fucking right."

"so you don't wanna fuck me?"

the fuck kinda question-

"why you always gotta go there?" i laughed, because it was funny.

it amused me, the way she always made herself seem like just a fuck buddy.

i'd literally told her that i needed her and she still thought i wanted sex.

i wanted to have sex with her, but i didn't wanna fuck her.

there was a difference.

she didn't answer my question, just put her hand up as a way to shut me up.

"do you wanna fuck me, judea?"

she put it plainly, but none of this was plain.

it was all so complex and i never wanted to simplify it. i liked out complexities and complication.

"i've never fucked you, jaliyah." i sounded smooth, but i felt rough and tight and full of ridges. i needed an oscar for this shit. "you know it's always been more than that."

i hope she knows that it always had, and always will be deeper than fucking with her.

"well watchu call it then?" she sounded quiet then. like she was scared of my answer.

shit- i was scared of my answer.

one wrong word and i'd make a fool of myself. more of a fool than i'd already been.

i need you.

who the fuck says that???

"ion know but,"

but it's real. it's everything to me. i missed it. i need it.

"we bigger than that."

she was quiet. i was quiet.

all i could hear was the air conditioning buzzing and the blood rushing in my ears.

she was expressionless, staring again. i swear she didn't blink for three whole minutes.

she finally broke the silence. "ion know what to say."

i didn't know what the hell she meant.

say you agree. say you've felt it too. say you forgive me. say "here's all i am. do what you want with it."

say something.

"say what you feel."

cornball ass shit.

but she had to be honest with me or i would die. i didn't want the fake version or the watered down version. i wanted her the way i'd always had her.

raw. real.

she was silent again. i thought she was about to bare her heart and soul to me and run in my arms and never leave.

i'd given her all i could in that moment so she had to reciprocate.

right?

wrong.

"i wanna go home, ju."

i blinked at her. just looked at her for a second. that wasn't the reaction i'd wanted, but it's what i got.

i couldn't even really be mad at her. i wouldn't wanna be here either. i damn sure wouldn't know what to say. that's why i didn't press her.

i swallowed it all. the "don't leave me"s and the "hear me out"s,

i shoved it back down and grabbed my keys.

"come on."

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@spcncershasting @iknowwhatyoutellyourfriends @giavonnii @rishofkf @thesexiestdomfem

[ellesreids]

hi!! i wanted to send in a request for a spencer reid x reader fic. i don’t have a particular plot in mind (or you can create headcanons, if you prefer) so you may have to get creative but i love the idea of a funky whimsical reader. like she wears fun socks and has too many plans and has bugs as pets. like an elementary school art teacher vibe yk? maybe she actually is an elementary school art teacher or maybe she works at the bau, you’re choice. i just love this concept cause everyone writes the reader so similarly to spencer, but i think he’d be really compatible with a type b creative person too :) all i ask for is loads of fluff!! i love your writing and im so excited to see what you do with this :) tysm!! sending love ✨⭐️🎀💗

I absolutely love her I already wanna write more and more about her!! thank you for requesting lovely, sending back ten times more love <3 this is basically like a backstory to how they met and got together, but I'm literally already thinking about writing a few blurbs lol.

──── ⊹☆⊹ ────

You and Spencer first met when the FBI was doing their annual school visits at the elementary school where you taught. The whole school hall was packed with children and teachers, and Spencer felt like he was minutes from fainting because he knew he was up next to present and he knew it was going to be near torture trying to explain profiling to a bunch of ten year olds.

Just before he was set to go on stage, his eyes had caught yours. It's not like you were hard to find anyway — you stuck out like a sore thumb, actually. A far cry from any average teacher, with clothes so colorful and lively and jewelry that adorned you all over. Spencer was already starstruck, and he hadn't even talked to you yet.

When you saw him, you gave him a small smile in greeting, noticing his very nervous demeanor, and somehow that alone had helped quell a bit of the firing nerves that shot through his body. The kids couldn't care less what Spencer was talking about, and much less the teachers, but you practically had your eyes glued to him, giving him encouraging nods as he sputtered his way through his fully memorised presentation.

He had tried to talk to you after his speech was over, but as all the kids were pushing their way outside of the hall and back to their respective classes, he lost you somewhere in the crowds. He thought about you for days after that encounter, and didn't get to see you again until about a week later, when you, by some miracle, walked into the bullpen of the BAU holding a huge fruit basket that had been meant to be given to the team the day of the school visit. You definitely were a spectacle, turning heads and piquing interest as you made your way through the office. Flowy skirt, crinkled, paint-stained shirt, and jiggling bangles in contrast to all the crisp, perfectly tailored suits that surrounded you.

Morgan, ever the gentleman, saw you struggling and offered to help take the gift from your hands, and you thanked him profusely. Just as you were getting ready to make your way back to school after some friendly small talk with Morgan, you noticed him, sitting at his desk seemingly completely enraptured with the file he was reading. The cute agent that had been so nervous he started turning pale. The colour had definitely returned to his face now, and he looked even cuter than before, so after politely excusing yourself, you decided to make your way over to his desk.

When Spencer saw you standing at his desk, same warm smile as before when you greated him, he was starstruck all over again, sitting there with a mouth slighty agape as you complimented his total wreck of a presentation. "I'd like to treat you to a coffee sometime to, y'know, say thank you for coming to talk to the kids." It was a horrible cover-up, but it seemed to work nevertheless, and when the doctor had gathered enough of his impressive IQ points, he managed to accept your offer in an almost incoherent mess of words.

You had since then taken him out to coffee, and naturally, a date followed, and then a few more.

And now, Spencer couldn't even believe his luck. He had almost made peace with the idea that he'd never see you again, and now you were sitting across him in the busy restaurant on your now sixth date. In many ways, you and Spencer are complete opposites. Where Spencer thrives in routine and familiarity, you're much more flexible and adaptable. You're a take it as it comes kind of person, yet he functions better the further away he can plan.

Your patience and creativity make it easy for him to see why you're a teacher as well, and Spencer swears he'd already fallen in love by the first date. He tries to reel it in, though, afraid of scaring you off with his overeagerness, but you don't seem to mind at all. You look at him with stars in your eyes every time he rambles about whatever subject he seems to have endless knowledge on, and sometimes you even counter with your own rambles. The two of you complemented each other in the most perfect way; like two opposite poles of a magnet, yet unstoppably drawn to each other.

After your date, he takes you home and walks you to the door like a gentleman, and when you ask him if he'd like to stay for a cup of tea, he accepts with a shy smile and red-tipped ears. If he thought your clothes were a perfect reflection of your personality, your house is even more so. The inside is filled with the type of warm lighting that feels nostalgic, the scent of cinnamon and bergamot permeates through the air, trinkets and paintings are scattered in every corner his eyes falls to and plants are pearched on and near every window in sight.

You take off your shoes, and he mimics you, the both of you bursting into a fit of giggles when you notice each others' socks. The two of you make your way to your living area as the kettle boils, and he's greeted by your cat, rubbing herself against his leg with a soft purr. "She likes you," you say with a happy shriek, "and she normally doesn't like anyone that fast, so you should feel honored." He does feel honored, funny enough. If it means that much to you, it means even more to him that your cat likes him.

For probably the millionth time since he's met you, he's completely enamored with you. He watches as you speak animatedly, one hand petting the cat now in your lap while the other holds your cup of tea. He winces a little when you move the cup around so seemingly neverminded, but you've managed to not spill anything yet, which he thinks is quite impressive.

His brain was going a hundred miles a minute as you. He realized he'd now had something, someone to look forward to when he returned from cases. Someone who waited for him and missed him. He had someone to share his thoughts with, someone who listened and truly cared about everything he had to say.

The realization makes his heart ache, this funny feeling that starts in his chest and spreads through his whole body like white heat. He feels a little breathless, hand absent-mindedly clutching his chest in a way that would probably seem melodramatic to anyone else watching.

"Spencer? Are you okay?" you ask, breaking him from his reverie as you place your almost empty cup on the nearby coffee table before you're feeling his forehead with the back of your hand. It was silly, but you were so used to working with kids who got sick out of the blue, and Spencer had suddenly started looking deathly pale.

"I'm fine, it's just," he hesitates, and you pull your hand away, carefully shuffling a little closer to show him he had your undivided attention. "I'm very happy we found each other," he finally says, eyes lifting from his lap to gauge your reaction.

"I'm just as happy, Spence," you smile, "you make me very happy." Without really thinking about it, you press a kiss to his cheek to reiterate your words. As soon as you're pulling away, Spencer's chasing your lips with his, and in a very uncharacteristically bold move, he kisses you in a way he hopes will reiterate his words just as perfectly. You return the kiss tenfold, hands grasping his face as you pulled him impossibly closer, kissing him until you both were breathless. Once you're pulling away, Spencer feels like his brain is steadily melting out of his ears, heart beating faster than he thinks is healthy.

That was the night you Spencer asked you to be his girlfriend, and since then, his days have been brighter than ever.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 4: You Say I've Done A Lot Of Things I Can't Undo

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!Reader, Reader POV

Summary: With a birthday printed on your wrist that happened over a hundred years ago, you always thought that you were cursed to never meet your soulmate. But when you finally meet the man that's supposed to be the other half of your soul, you wonder if the stars were wrong, and wonder how this man was meant for you. Reader is Hughie's sister, is not a supe, and is a Literature Professor that gets dragged into the middle of things. This fic takes place in an AU set loosely after Season 3 and does deviate from the plot of The Boys

Tropes: Soulmate AU, Little bit of Grumpy and Sunshine, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Jealous Ben/Soldier Boy

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy and we all know he's a warning. Self deprecating thoughts, ANGST, SADNESS, Public Fight, Going Viral For The Wrong Reasons, Mentions of past graphic death, Mentions of past sex, Mentions of Torture, Cursing, Mentions of Death, Loneliness, Longing,  Appearance of a World Class Bitch, Reader wears glasses?, Soldier Boy might be a little OOC.

Word Count: 6.8K

Song Inspiration For Chapter: Wait By Maroon 5 - Chapter title taken from this song

Playlist For Series!✨

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue Is in First Person And Is In Italics

A/N: I'm BACK BABY (a few days early)! I thought I'd start my return with a bang.  This chapter is crazy and angsty, but I’m addicted to the angst and we all know you love it 😉

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Guide:

Reader's thoughts are in italics and in first person.

Ben's thoughts in italics, bold, and blue!

Sunlight sifted through the canopy of trees overhead shifting the shadowy imprint of the leaves over the cracked sidewalk that wove through campus in a lazy wave. The smell of coffee came from the coffee cart perched nearby where students stood in an un-orderly line, impatiently waiting their turn to buy the one thing that would get them through the dreaded Monday slough.

The crunch of fallen leaves underfoot, and the jingle of backpacks rose on the wind from the people who walked by while others sat in groups on warm grass laughing and chattering with friends. Water rippled in a fountain nearby, and the soothing sound of drops smoothing marble brought a wave of relaxation over you.

You sat alone on your favorite bench with a book resting on your lap. The sun kissed the worn, familiar pages that you had read time and time again, illuminating the notes you'd written in the edges in an untidy scrawl.

It was the best form of distraction for what was becoming one of the longest Mondays of your life.

The weekend had passed in a graying blur that you spent in bed curled up beneath your comforter reading book after book, content to rot, because there was little else you could think to do.

Annie had shown up a few hours after Hughie had, but by then you'd been so tired of talking to other people that all you wanted to do was sleep, despite their encouragement to watch a movie with them.

You didn't want to.

The longer you sat with them together the more the dagger in your heart sharpened. All it did was solidify the fact that you'd never have what they did, because how could you?

Your soulmate did not have one soft or gentle bone in his body, he didn't care about anyone but himself. There was no future with someone like him, not with someone who felt no remorse for taking a life.

So you were back to square one, or, square negative one. At square one there had been the possibility of meeting your soulmate again and now that you'd met him you wished you could take it all back.

Take back all the years you spent wishing to meet the other half of your soul, take back every moment you spent with the night sky shining in your eyes while you prayed to the heavens that one day you'd meet him. You felt stupid for crying as much as you had over the past year when you thought that your soulmate didn't want you. And now a part of you thought it was comical how much time you'd spent thinking of him only to wish you could forget.

In every lull over the weekend there was only one place your mind went, exactly where you didn't want it to go, right to your soulmate.  Each time the thought of him flashed through your head all it did was send a shiver of fear down your spine. You were afraid that he would find you somehow, worried he had a supernatural GPS in his head when it came to you and that he'd be able to find you anywhere.

For all you knew he could. The revelation of your shared ability to feel each others emotions and hear each others thoughts was astonishing. You'd scoured the internet to try and find the reason why it was that you could do that, but you'd come up empty. So not only was your soulmate a murderer, you were the only person who could know exactly what he was thinking and feeling.

Rotting in bed was the only thing that appealed to you, but even there you weren't safe. The dreams that came were worse than the ones you'd had over the past year. Each memory more violent than the last and each one made you wake up screaming bloody murder into the quiet of your bedroom. But they weren't the memories of him hurting people, they were memories of the time he spent in the lab. You'd seen snippets of it before, but you'd never felt it.

These memories you lived with him, felt his pain, his rage, and something else, something that pricked at your heart because it reminded you how you felt all those years you were alone.

The dreams made you want to find him again, to comfort him, because that's the kind of person you were. But you couldn't, not when the thought of being in the same room as him made you sick to your stomach.

You take in a calming breath and turn the page. You'd ended your afternoon class a few minutes early, hoping that a few moments soaking up the afternoon sun with a cup of coffee and a good book would get you back in the swing of things.

It was working, now that you'd turned your phone off. Hughie and Annie kept texting to check in, but you couldn't think of a reply that sounded genuine.

Every response you typed was riddled with forced smiles, and you were sick of acting like nothing was wrong.

Mrs. Charleson had invited you over for tea last night and rubbed your back while you cried. Like hell you were going to call your parents and tell them you finally found your soulmate, but he was a murderer. You had stopped trying to seek their approval years ago.

But there was something nagging at the back of your mind today. Your entire lecture you had the oddest feeling that there was someone watching you and every once in a while you thought you could feel something and hear something that you weren't thinking or feeling, but you attributed that to the PTSD.

"That's a big book." A familiar voice says with the hint of a smile. Warm tingles trace your spine with the low rumble of the words, your body reacting before your mind catches up.

It can't be-

You look up.

Your soulmate looks better than you remember. He's wearing a dark green shirt that makes his eyes seem brighter and has a black leather jacket that you wonder how he can fit over his broad shoulders. His hips are squeezed into a pair of blue jeans that are just a little worn in at the knees, but somehow it makes him seem real, authentic.

Lord Hades sprung from the soil to bring his wife to the underworld.

Something weaves through the air between the two of you once more, the pull that pops and crackles through your veins telling you that you want to be closer to him, that your soul wants to entwine with his, that the man standing there in front of you is made for you and nothing else in the world is right when the two of you are apart.

How can he be? He's everything I'm not.

The part of you that lives in him sings to you, beckons you with open arms to Ben, the hole inside of you that sat empty for years screaming to be filled.

However, the most jarring thing about seeing him again, is that he's holding one of the largest bouquets of sunflowers you'd ever seen in your entire life, which happened to be your favorite flower and the exact thing you'd imagined your soulmate doing in the past. But instead of a happy feeling at the gift, dread threads through you.

How did he find me?

Ben’s smile slips a little bit at your reaction, hearing your thoughts echo through his mind, and the wave of your fear flood over him.

What the fuck is her problem? I brought her flowers!

His words in your head make you wince slightly, eyes shifting to the people around you worried for their safety because you've seen exactly what happened when your soulmate lost his temper.

Ben tries again.

"I got these for you. Thought that maybe would could get some dinner tonight. Get to know each other a little better.” He holds out the bouquet as if it wasn’t obvious. “And I caught the end of your lecture. If any of my teachers looked anything like you doll I would have been at every class no question.” Ben gives you a wolfish grin that makes a shudder work its way down your spine.

It suddenly made sense why you'd spent your lecture hearing just the buzz of thoughts that weren't your own on the edge of your mind and why you could feel emotions that you didn't recognize flood through you while you spoke.

I should have known.

Maybe you were still hoping that the ability to hear Ben's thoughts and feel his emotions was something that you'd imagined. Apparently not.

Your hands tighten around the spine of the forgotten book in your lap, fear tracing through your limbs. There was no escape from him. He was simply everywhere. You'd thought that he'd been able to get hint of exactly what you thought of him at the apartment, that he'd know better than to track you down.

Ben senses your fear and the grin slips into a frown, eyebrows pulling down, and he blinks his green eyes in confusion.

All I did was bring her some flowers. It's not like I pulled a fucking knife! Or stuck a damn gun in her face! Why the fuck is she acting like this? Women are supposed to like this shit!

You shake your head to clear it from the angry monologue inside your soulmate's mind, the heat of his anger licking away at the chill of fear you had at his appearance.

"How did you find me?" You ask.

Ben's frown deepens and he lowers the flowers to his side realizing that you weren't going to take them. “Had someone track you down at work. No thanks to that little bitch and his fucking beard-“

“Hughie is my brother.” You interrupt Ben, temper flaring at his harsh words about Hughie. Soulmate and murder or no, you weren't going to let a bully make fun of the only person in your family that made you feel like you belonged there.

"He's your brother?" Ben sputters.

Who knew that someone like him could have a sister that looks like her?

Ben's eyes drop to trace along your figure with the thought. When you'd gotten dressed the long skirt, floral blouse, and suit jacket seemed like a good idea, but under his gaze you felt naked. But there was a minuscule part of you in the back of your mind that rejoiced, some small part of your soul that was reveling in the fact that your soulmate found you just as attractive to him as he was to you.

You weren't denying that. You were attracted to your soulmate. He looked like every leading man you'd ever imagined when you read a book. The kind of beauty carved from stone and tempered fire.

"Yes! And I told him that I didn't want him to tell you where I was." Somehow the words strengthen you and you reach for the leather messenger bag at your side, trying to shove the book inside, but afraid to look away from Ben in case if he tries to grab you again.

The bruise on your wrist had turned an ugly yellowish green by now not to mention it still hurt a little bit to bend it. And you were scared at what Ben would do to you if he didn't get his way. You'd seen enough of his memories to know exactly how he acted when he didn't.

A wave of anger and shock comes rippling through you that you know isn't your own.

“Why would you do that? You’re my soulmate.” You see something flicker in his green eyes, some wisp of unfamiliar emotion dragging behind it through your body that you can't place.

You find your feet, shouldering the leather bag. “I don’t care that I’m your soulmate. I don’t want anything to do with you. Now please leave I have a class-“

“What the fuck are you talking about? I got you flowers-“

“I don’t want those!” You try to step away from him, preparing to run, but Ben mirrors your movement to block you.

 “They’re your favorites and I got them for you!” His voice raises enough that the people sitting across from you on the opposite bench turn to gaze at Ben.

It’s like she wants to piss me off.

“Please leave me alone-“

"You don't even know me!" Ben takes in a breath through gritted teeth, closing his eyes for a moment before finishing his sentence. "Come with me to dinner tonight. We can talk-"

"I don't want to talk to you. I know enough about you to know that I want you to leave me alone!" You look around for some way of pushing him back from you, of escaping from this hell.

It was becoming a soap opera. You'd spent your entire life feeling like a freak for the date printed on your wrist, spent every waking moment praying that you would meet your soulmate, not to mention you'd spent the past year thinking that he didn't want you, and now here he was asking you to do the one thing you wanted and yet all you can feel is how afraid you are and worry that he's going to hurt you or someone else.

“It’s not supposed to be like this damn it!” Ben snaps, nostrils flaring as whatever composure he just summoned falls away to reveal who he really is.

“What are you talking about?!”

“I’m your soulmate! You’re supposed to love me!”

“I’m not supposed to do anything!”

“Yes you are!” He roars, green eyes flashing in the sunlight.

A heat rises in between the two of you emanating from his body as the smell of the coffee stand ebbs away and is replaced by an unnatural smell of ozone. The skin underneath Ben's t-shirt begins to glow  with his rage, the skin revealed at the bottom of his neck shifting to a brilliant gold.

You shrink back from him, your hand tightening on the strap of your leather bag, the memories of what happened whenever he lost control fills you with dread. Visions of bodies blackened beyond recognition flash through your mind. Your eyes shift to the people around you worried for their safety. You didn't know what would happen if Ben exploded here. You’d seen the footage on TV of the building that was destroyed after he'd come back and you didn't want that to happen to the students around you.

Ben's gaze doesn't leave yours, and you can see your face reflected in his eyes. You look small and afraid, and you wonder if Ben even cares.

He grits his teeth again, body tensed so tight you think he might snap, and he squeezes his eyes shut, and the longer he does it the more the glow fades.

Not here, not fucking now.

Ben's voice floats into your head, a memory of the lab surfacing on the edge of his mind you see for a moment flicker across your own as if you were living it with him.

It touches something in your heart, and for just a moment you feel the need to touch him, to tell him that it's okay, that he's not there, but you shove it down, gripping the strap of the bag like a life-line. 

Why does she think I'd ever hurt her?

Anger pulses through your body, but there's something hidden beneath it, something almost… soft. It makes your heart thud an extra beat, the fear you had melting away for a few precious seconds as you hear the question he asked ring through your ears.

“Is everything okay?” The sound of your TA’s voice, Tate, shatters through whatever emotion it is and brings you back to reality.

You glance around Ben’s broad form to see him standing there. He’s still wearing the same checkered sweater vest over a light blue shirt he was wearing in morning lecture. The sun turns his skin into a burnished mahogany, while winking on the wire framed glasses around his eyes. He looks concerned.

You open your mouth to answer, but Ben does first. "Mind your own fucking business."

Tate frowns, but his gaze drifts to you. He says your name. "Are you okay?"

Back the fuck off. She's mine!

Ben's body turns towards your TA, the soft feeling you felt completely lost in the rush of anger emanating from your soulmate.

"Why don't you just fuck off you four-eyed fuck?" Ben snarls.

"Hey buddy. You need to take a chill pill." Tate rolls his eyes. "And a step back. Because I don't like the way you're talking to her."

"Tate-" You begin. You were going to warn him, tell him to walk away, that the man standing there was more dangerous that Tate could ever imagine.

You'd had a front row seat to each time your soulmate didn't get his way. Had seen exactly what he did to people who dared to say not to him and the people who stood in the way of what he really wanted. 

"I can talk to her however I damn well please she’s fucking mine!" Ben takes a step forward flashing the golden date on his wrist like it proves his claim to you. "And I don't need some little pussy like you telling me what to do."

The words do something to you.

Growing up you'd always believed that having a soulmate wasn't just about having someone who was "yours," it was more than that. It was that together you were one, two pieces of one soul finally coming together, surviving years of being apart only to be bound together once more.

But hearing Ben say that to Tate, proves what you already know about your soulmate. That he wasn't soft or gentle and that you were nothing more than another plaything to him, something that he thought he owned. It proved that your soulmate didn't think that having a soul-bond was special, that all it was to him was another way of asserting his dominance over someone he thought he owned.

Just because he's my soulmate does not make me his property.

"I don’t know who you think you are. But this little pussy," Tate gestures to himself, "Is going to bitch slap you if you talk like that to me or her again." Tate's backpack drops off his shoulder and lands on the ground with an audible thud as he takes another step towards Ben.

It was the first time that you'd ever seen someone openly challenge him. At the party all Butcher had done was casually put his hands on your shoulders and told him to stand down, but this was different. This was someone asking Ben for a fight.

"Tate please just go. It's okay." You say.

Tate's glasses glint in the light of the sun as he turns his head towards you. "No, it's not. This asshole shouldn't get to-“

Ben's hand goes around Tate's throat hauling him high into the air. “You’re gonna wish you kept walking.” Ben growls.

“Ben please!” It was the first time that you’d ever said your soulmate's name aloud. “Please put him down.”

How fitting seeing as it’s also the first time I’ve ever had to beg for someone else’s life.

Ben does put him down, but not in the way you wished him to. He throws Tate away with a brutal flick of his wrist.

Tate’s body goes soaring backwards before landing in the coffee cart and crumpling to the ground, the sharp snap of bone and the heavy thud of his head hitting the pavement echoing through air. He clutches at his arm that’s bent at an awkward angle with a loud groan.

“Holy shit!” You shove past Ben, rushing to where Tate lays. His head leans back against the side of the cart, coffee soaking through the pavement around him while others gape at Ben in horror.

Tate groans out something. Pain flashes in his cinnamon colored eyes, his glasses thrown from his face in the scuffle, while his gaze begins to glaze over.

"Tate hey stay with me-" You say gently touching his chin.

Tate had been your TA for a year and you'd come to think of him as your friend. He was funny, sweet, caring, and his soulmate Marta was one of the nicest people you'd ever met in your entire life. She was always bringing you cake and cookies, always came to pick up Tate after work in a beat up Volvo with a rusted bumper they never had enough money to fix, and always gave him a kiss on the tip of his nose whenever he left his lunch at home and she came to bring it for him.

His arm was definitely broken, and the thought that you'd have to tell Marta that Tate was hurt and it was your fault made your heart catch in the back of your throat in a hardened lump.

"What a pussy." Ben says behind you, rolling his eyes. "Just rub some fucking dirt in it. Act like a man for fucks sake-"

Any fear you have for your soulmate melts away with the roar of your anger at Ben callousness. Your head snaps in his direction.

Why does she care so much about him? I'm her soulmate! She should be fawning over me!

Ben is still holding on to the Sunflower bouquet in his hand, but some of his dark hair has slipped forward into his face with the effort of throwing Tate away, his expression somewhere between annoyed and bored. The dark stubble that frames his strong jaw makes your soulmate look rough and a little rugged- again you're struck by how attractive he is, but you force the thought from your mind.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You shout.

Several onlookers have pulled out their cellphones, caught between the idea of calling the police and filming this for social media.

Because that's exactly what this needs, for Ben and me to be Tiktok famous.

"What's wrong with me?" Ben yells back in surprise. "What the fuck wrong with you? I brought flowers I'm trying to-"

"Fuck the flowers Ben! You could have killed him!"

"He's fine-" Ben rolls his eyes.

"No, he's not! You know that he's not a supe! That he can't do the things you can! That he's more fragile and-"

"What the fuck does that matter?!" Ben roars, eyes flashing a dangerous green, and the sound of the sunflower stems snapping in his hand as they fall brokenly to the ground in a flash of yellow and brown fills the air.

The world is no longer bathed in a soft golden glow from the sunlight above, now it seems to almost blaze around the two of you, burning so bright that it hurts to keep your eyes open. The sounds of the people chattering around you have gone silent and the gentle trickle of water in the fountain becomes a roar.

You wished that you'd stayed hidden away in your office, wished that you hadn't come to work today. Hiding in your apartment as you did all weekend rather than be ambushed by your soulmate was preferable to whatever was happening now.

Your world was colliding with his into a supernova and all you wanted was to go back to when you didn't know who he was, to when you believed that your soulmate didn't exist.

"You could have killed him!" You repeat before you hesitate, feeling a rush of emotions from Ben, but none of them are regret or remorse. Tate whimpers in pain below you. "And you don’t even care." The words come out in a surprised whisper.

"Why should I?" Ben spits, still not comprehending why you were making a big deal about this, why you were still pushing him away despite bringing you flowers. "He was in my way!"

"Why should you?" Your voice comes out broken and shocked. "Because he's a human being, Ben. Because killing people and hurting people is wrong-"

Ben only rolls his eyes. "Oh please. I gave him a warning-"

"No, you didn't. All you did was yell at him and me."

What the fuck is going on? Why is she acting like this? He was in my way. When someone gets in your way you put them in their place!

"No, you don't!" You shout over the loud whispers of the people around you watching the drama unfold, answering the deranged monologue in your soulmate's head before he can say anything else. "When someone gets in your way, especially someone who you know you could hurt you back off! You don't throw them around like a rag doll. You have the human decency to back down and be the bigger person." You turn away from Ben's gaze to look at Tate who groans again in pain, holding his broken arm to his chest. "Can you get up?"

"I think so." He lets out in a shaky breath as you take his good arm and help him to his feet.

"Here lean on me."

Tate was considerably larger than you, at least six feet, not to mention he was built like a body builder and looked nothing like the literary geek he was. But you don't let that stop you.

"What are you doing?" Ben says taking a step towards you.

You flinch back from him.

"What does it look like? We're going to the hospital. His arm is broken and who knows what happened to his head after hitting the concrete that hard-"

Ben huffs out a breath and a wave of annoyance crashes over you that isn't your own. "I'll drive you."

"No, you've done enough!" You shout helping Tate take a shaky step down the sidewalk in the direction of your car where it's parked in the faculty parking lot.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing!" Ben snaps taking another step in your direction. "He's fine."

"He's not fine!"

"Let his soulmate take him to the hospital. I want to take you to dinner-"

Is he serious right now? Why would I go to dinner with him? He just brained Tate on the coffee cart and broke his arm.

"Stay the fuck away from me." You snarl at Ben. The fear you had for Ben was still there, but now all you could feel was anger and horror. You couldn’t understand how someone could do that, feel no remorse for hurting someone else.

But it again proved the fact that your soulmate was nothing like you and nothing like the man you wanted him to be.

"Why would you want that I'm your soulmate. You're supposed to want me!"

"I don’t give a fuck that you’re my soulmate Ben! Because you're a fucking monster and I don't want any part of you in my life. Not when all you do is hurt the people around you with no regard for your actions!"

It wasn't the first time that you'd thought Ben a monster, not after living through all his memories. There had been a small part of you that hoped you were wrong, that the memories you’d had of him had happened so long ago and Ben had changed. But he hadn't.

He was the same selfish man who you'd seen in your head take and take, but give nothing in return. He didn’t care about anyone, but himself.

So how can I expect him to care about me?

Something flickers in Ben's expression, flashing through the anger in his gaze, something that you can't place. There's a feeling that rises in your chest that's not your own, but tugs at the piece of your soul that belongs to him.

But you turn your back on Ben, dragging Tate with you towards the parking lot.

The loneliness that lived in your head and your heart for so long begins to seep through the cracks once more with each step you take away from Ben.

You wait for the voice of your soulmate in your head to come, to hear the tickle of his words against your ear, but there's nothing. Just the sound of the water smoothing rough stones, the sound of Tate's gasps of pain, the harsh whispers of the people who stood by watching your life fall apart and the last hope you have of love, real love, shrivel up and waste away, while the loneliness welcomed you with open arms. 

Two Days Later

You bury your face in your hands and sink deeper into your desk chair, elbows braced against the strong wood on top of the ancient desk in your office. It had belonged to the teacher before you, and the one before that, and the one before that- an antique of a time that you once wished to live in the arms of your soulmate, a time that you fantasized of belonging to whenever you opened a book from that era.

Now it seemed like a waste.

The past two days you'd spent in a daze, walking from class to class, talking without really knowing what it was you were teaching, disconnecting from it all.

When you'd brought Tate to the hospital he'd needed emergency surgery on his arm that was broken in three different places, and you'd spent the next few hours that he'd been in surgery with Marta, holding her hand and reassuring her that Tate would be alright while she cried into your shoulder.

You hated that this had happened, that the insanity that was unraveling your life had bled into Tate and Marta's, and that Tate had gotten hurt because of you.

He hadn't had to step in, hadn't needed to defend you, but he did. It was the kind of person he was and you didn't fault him for it.

And your soulmate hadn't even had a shred of remorse when he saw how hurt Tate was or when he saw how upset you were about it.

It made a chill travel down your spine to think that. To think that someone like your soulmate existed, someone who took no care in what he did to others as long as he got his way and had the abilities that meant no one could stand in his way.

You remembered what your brother and Butcher said about Homelander, but you never imagined that your soulmate would be anything like him.

The doctor told Tate that his head was okay, just a mild concussion, but the doctor had said it could have been worse, much worse. The doctor had also warned that it would be a long recovery for Tate and that his arm would always have a metal rod inside to keep the bones stable, which only made Marta cry harder.

Tate was in better spirits than she was. He said that it made him feel like Wolverine, having all that metal in his body, and then said he couldn't wait to stump the TSA at the airport whenever he flew back to his hometown.

Marta hadn't thought it was funny, but she was happy to see that the accident hadn't made him bitter. Tate had always been a half-glass full kinda guy and spent most of his time in the hospital holding Marta close to him in his bed while she cried. He wasn't half as upset about the situation as she was.

And when you'd tried to tell him how sorry you were, Tate had waved you off with his good arm and said that he would have felt worse if he hadn't said anything and that he didn't blame you for this.

It didn't make any of this better.

Ben hadn't reappeared or shown up to any of your other classes. You hadn't heard his voice in your head or any emotions that didn't belong to you, and you hadn't seen him on campus at all.

And although it was what you wanted, there was a small part of you, one that you pushed down below the surface that wanted him to come back. You'd lived so long without your soulmate that now you knew he existed it was difficult for your mind to go elsewhere.

It felt like you were being ripped in two. You knew that he was a monster and you wanted him to stay away, but the other part of you wanted to find him, to hear what he had to say, to curl up against him and never let him go.

He's the other half of my soul I should-

The thought tappers off and your tighten your hands where they rest over your face.

No he's dangerous. I want him to stay away I-

You grit your teeth trying not to listen to the little voice inside that begged you to give him a chance.

Damn it.

It was frustrating to say the least and starting to rival a one woman show in your head:

"He brought flowers-"

"He also broke Tate's arm."

"He wanted to have dinner-"

"He told you that Tate was fine and that you were overreacting!"

Basically your mind was going in circles with no signs of stopping. Even cracking open your favorite book did nothing to help.

And you couldn't forget it, because Ben's little stunt was all over the internet and campus. You could hear the whispers of your students during your lecture, when you got coffee, and when you walked to your classes. There was no escape.

So you were hiding, shamelessly in your office for the time being.

Dale, the head of the English Department and the bane of your existence, had scheduled a meeting later to "deal with the situation" as he put it. You were dreading it.

It was already hard enough to control your temper when he mansplained about the different literary periods and authors that you were an expert on, and now he was going to get involved in your personal life.

You groan under your breath.

The door of your office opens, the metallic click of the knob turning against the aged wood releasing from the wall echoing through the quiet room.

There's a small part of you that braces for the telltale feeling that your soulmate is nearby.

The warmth that bubbles up from within followed by a wave of thoughts that aren't your own flowing through the bond the two of you share, but it doesn't come.

The person who entered your office hadn't bothered to knock, usually that meant it was Dale and you hope that you didn't lose track of time and he's here for your meeting.

But instead of his nasally drawl, a woman's voice greets your ears. "Are you professor-" Her voice smoothes over your last name, her tone quirking up at the end of her question.

There was something familiar about it, almost as if you'd heard it before, but you don't look up from your hands.

"Yes. But my office hours are over."

"This'll only take a moment." The voice continues, followed by the distinct click of your door locking.

You glance up, taking your glasses from where they lay on your desk to put them back on your face, and the woman slowly comes into focus.

Stormfront looks different in person than she did on TV. She still has the rounded face, dark hair, and simple makeup, but there's something off about her smile. It pulls on the end of her lips curling up as if she has a secret while her dark eyes study you like a bird of prey.

She's wearing a black baseball cap that shields her face and a black hoodie, but you know it's her. You'd seen enough promos for her new movies on TV and products that she endorsed on billboards planted around where you lived.

The new leader of the Seven had been celebrated more than Homelander ever was over the past year following his disappearance. Annie had told you how hard Ashley was pushing for Stormfront to be the symbol of female power everywhere. That Stormfront would be the first hero ever to be involved in military operations overseas with more to follow behind her.

Vought was calling it the year of the woman, while Stormfront's followers called it "The Coming Storm."

And it was.

Stormfront was vocal about her beliefs, held nothing back in interviews while she criticized America and the world around her.

But here, in your office, there was no forced smile, no shimmer to her perfectly curled black hair… instead something glimmered in her dark eyes as they traced over your body with careful precision.

An ungodly feeling bubbled beneath your skin, like curdled milk, something close to disgust and revulsion, but not quite so sour.

There was an unnatural energy in the room, the lights on the walls flicker once, something pulsing in the air from the woman in front of you that sends a chill down your spine.

"So you're her." Her eyes trace you again, lips quirking on one side in a smile. There's something predatory hidden behind her dark eyes, some flicker of emotion you can't place, but makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

"Excuse me?" Your voice trembles slightly.

You didn’t understand what this was, why Stormfront decided to pay you a visit out of the blue when the two of you had never met before.

Her smile widens. "You’re Soldier Boy's soulmate."

"I don't know what you're talking about." The response is immediate, slipping through your mouth before you decide to lie.

The truth was you knew about Stormfront and Ben's "relationship," if you could call it that. As terrible as watching your soulmate kill people was, sometimes watching him with other women was worse.

Especially seeing those memories in the year after you'd met him and he left you while you yelled at him to wait on the sidewalk and you thought he didn't want you. Watching him with women that looked nothing like you, watching him kiss them, whisper sweet nothings in their ear, tell them how beautiful they were, fuck them… The whole time watching the man who was made for you with someone else… it hurt.

You wondered if Ben liked Stormfront because she was a supe and she could take more than someone who was normal could. That he didn't need to hold back.

He probably doesn't care about that anyway.

Stormfront laughs at you. "Don’t bother lying. You're not good at it and I saw the little lovers spat the two of you had the other day."

"What?"

"It's all over the internet," She smirks. "I miss the day when you could do whatever the fuck you wanted without fear that you would go viral… But I think that Soldier Boy is used to bad press-" She shrugs her shoulders and looks around the room. "You're not what I expected. Ben barely spent any time in school it's almost comical that his soulmate is a teacher, let alone a literature professor. I don't think he's read a book all the way through ever."

You didn't like that she was speaking about your soulmate like she owned a piece of him, as if he was as much hers as you were.

The memory of Ben's thought when Butcher put his hands on your shoulders to steady you burns through your head, when you heard Ben growl "She's mine" and it didn't make you shudder because you were afraid, it made you shudder for for a different reason. Because now there was something in your own head snarling "He's mine" while you clench your fingers into fists where they lay in your lap.

"But you're kinda cute…" Her gaze drags lazily back to you from the bookshelves that line the walls of your office. "In a bookworm sort of way. I mean.. I've never seen Ben look twice at someone who looks like you but-"

"Did you need something?" The question comes out harsher than you meant it to, but by now you were more annoyed than afraid of her. You didn't like the way she was talking to you, like you were a stupid little girl and she was the real woman you’d never be. Like a mother scolding her daughter who'd stayed out past curfew.

I don't care how old she is, she doesn't get to speak to me that way.

She sits down across from you in one of the two plush leather armchairs, leaning back. "Well, well, well it does seem as if you do have a little bit more bite. Good." Her head cocks to the side. "Makes this more fun."

"This?"

"Do you have any idea how long I've been following Ben? A year. Mind you, I've waited much longer for other things not nearly this fucking important, but-"

"Why?" You interrupt, not ready to sit through another meeting. Frankly the woman in front of you was reminding you of your mouth breathing head of the English Department, Dale, who spent more time trying to look up your skirt than give a shit about what you had to say.

"Because I wanted to find you, of course."

Your body goes cold.

"You see, I've seen the date on Ben's wrist, I knew that he'd run into you eventually when he got back from his little sabbatical overseas. And I thought a reunion would be fun." She flicks a hand absentmindedly like Ben had gone on vacation in Russia and hadn't been tortured and imprisoned. "We used to spend a lot of time together. And I was so happy that he finally found you, because now I can repay him."

What is she talking about?

"For what?" You question.

Stormfront's lip curls up, her eyes glowing a dangerous purple, as the lights in your office flicker. "He killed my soulmate, it seems only fitting that I return the favor."

A/N: I know I know another cliffhanger... but I am actually really excited to write a little bit for Stormfront. Yeah she's cray-cray, but to me she has the biggest connection to Ben so I felt like it made the most sense for her to be included 🥰

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are not required, but are always welcome and appreciated! I really love hearing what y'all think. ❤️ If you'd liked to be added to the taglist for this series please let me know :)

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[arjudy224]

The Intern: Small Talk with a Dead Man

After a dramatic realization during Christmas break, Y/N has been peacefully trying to live her life without the influence of the Batfamily. One night after classes, she is visited by an old friend...

*Fluff*

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern Small Talk with a Dead Man

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

I shouldn't have been surprised. TV broadcasts. Google Alerts. The radio guy who complained about Gotham's newest Crime lord during my morning commute. A few local news stations dared to ask, "Is Red Hood more dangerous than the Black Mask?"

Despite all those warning signs, my heart stops when I see him again. A flash of lightning illuminates the man across from me. The signature Red Helmet drips rainwater on my ratty tan carpet. Judging by the watercolors across his knuckles, he must have driven from patrol.

From the corner of my bedroom, my phone vibrates on the nightstand. Dick's grinning face covers the screen. I hurriedly decline the call. Tim's face makes an appearance. The screen goes black. I drag my gaze back to the dead.

"Hatchling?" Jason observes motioning to Tim's contact name, "What's Damien's? Infant?"

I pause to think about it. What did I make Damien's?

"Sassy pants... with several angry emojis." I elaborate showing him the contact.

"Ahh... fitting for a child raised by assassins."

The room feels too small. Stuffy even. After years of dreaming of what I'd want to say to him, I blank. How do you even begin to approach this conversation? A painful silence forms. The helmet drops from his trembling hands with a thud. My heart stings when I hear his voice break.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go."

That breaks me out of my stupor. Crossing the room, I shush him.

"Take this jacket off before you track any more water in. My landlord is terrified of mold."

Reluctantly, he lets me peel the wet leather away from his goosebumped riddled skin. The hulking man slumps towards my touch. In the darkness, his features soften. He stops my quiet fussing by brushing the side of my cheek with the palm of his hand. For a moment, he takes a labored breath. Slowly, I meet his gaze. I can almost forget how long it has been.

How many nights did we do this? Bruce starting a fight. Jason sneaking in through my childhood window with a devilish grin.

"I figured I've already disappointed one father figure. Why not disappoint them both?"

The image of his charred corpse flashes in my mind. I flinch away from his grasp. Some memories don't age well.

"Go sit in the living room," I command throwing a towel in his direction, "Do you want tea?"

"Yes please." He agrees following my heels, "Do you have-"

"The usual? " I interrupt with a sly backward glance, "Who do you think I am?"

I almost blush at the look he gives me. Good God. My back turns to face him while I turn the kettle on.

Which mug do you give a dead man?

I correct myself.

Which mug do you give a crime lord?

I look past the cluster of random holiday cups to my shining star. A brand new Superman mug complete with a washable cape napkin. Water. Green Tea and chamomile bags. A little bit of honey.

While I set everything up, Jason studies the collage of photos on my wall. Some from Gotham. A mix from school. His eyes fall upon a selfie of Dick, Alfred, Barbara, and I. Encrested on the frame, it reads, "Jason Todd Memorial 2022". My throat gets tight. It seems so meaningless now. Leaning against the kitchen counter, I analyze the man. The new uniform is much more outwardly utilitarian than his Robin costume. No more shorts. The guns are new. He had set a few in a cluster on the coffee table. Jason takes a postcard from the collage in his hands.

"George Clooney?" He muses turning over the card, "Dick always had a flair for the dramatics."

"It runs in the family," I retort setting down his mug on the table.

As I draw near, he smiles at the choice of mug.

"I didn't realize that you picked sides."

"Alfred sent it to me as a peace offering," I shrug.

I motion to the brown patched-up couch. Jason eagerly reclines. His body stiffens at the strange lumps towards the center.

"Courtesy of Ma Kent," I joke, "I'm convinced she lined it with kryptonite, so Clark wouldn't jump on it."

Rubbing his sore shoulders, Jason grimaces sitting up.

"Well, I'm sure this is the only couch that could cause the Man of Steel back pain."

Sitting next to the sweaty young man, I sip on my own tea. The bitterness of the green tea grounds me to the present.

"Do you want to talk about what happened in Gotham tonight?" I question glancing at the freshly bandaged cuts on his arms.

He shakes his head grimacing at the memory. New City. New topics.

Grabbing the remote, I start, "What are you feeling tonight? I've been aching to rewatch "You're Next" for a while."

He eyes me with playful suspicion. Jason folds his arms behind his head.

"What? I've always found scary movies comforting after a long day."

"Like the way you find Ma Kent's Couch to be comfortable?" He teases fidgeting with the coarse fabric of the homemade pillow.

The random stains make him raise an eyebrow. Thunder shakes my apartment.

"It's an acquired taste." I reply pulling the pillow flush against my chest, "Besides, horror is the only genre where your anxiety is always right, but the horror never stays for too long. It’s nice to see the Protagonists survive to the end of their story."

For a moment, he looks like my Jason again. The slight bruising around his left eye causes him to squint ever so slightly, but he flashes me an amused smirk. Studying the man beside me, everything about him feels so familiar yet so foreign simultaneously. He has the same onery smile, yet it doesn't stretch as far as it did before. This new Jason is big... Somehow in the last few years, Jason doubled in size. What were they feeding him?

"You watch too many movies." He remarks offering me half of the blanket.

I pause trying to ignore the pit in my stomach. My Jason had blue eyes. A flash of lightning illuminates the small TV screen. Sitting next to the furnace of a man, I inadvertently inch closer.

"That is probably true." I reply lying my head on his shoulder.

Taking his large, calloused hand in mine, I turn it over in examination.. The skin is torn at the knuckles probably due to some unknown crook starting something he couldn't finish. His swollen splotchy purple fingers wrap around mine.

"Does it hurt?" I ask curiously

He responds with a painful shrug.

"Not as much as dying."

Jason eyes me curiously waiting for my reaction. Against all odds, I laugh until I snort. He turns his head to hide the smile on his face. Eyes on the TV, Jay continues.

"Well, it's true."

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[v1rtualsalvat10n]

𓆩♡𓆪 for the first time

― luigi thinks of you in his cell. that's it that's the fic.

notes :: thank you for all the support to show my appreciation i would like to throw a rusty screwdriver into your hearts i love u guys!!

The thing they don't tell you about prison is that it's really cold.

No, seriously. It's really fucking cold, even here in NYC where it's already cold to begin with - it's like you're in the back of a deep freezer in a shitty jumpsuit, because you kind of are. It's cold enough that I have to curl up into a ball on my "bed", knees to my chest in order to try and stay warm.

And because I have nothing to do, I find myself staring at the white, emotionless wall, and doing that sort of thing is kind of a surefire way to get your mind to wander. One of the tried and true methods, if you will.

It's lonely here. Sure, the inmates like me, they're nice, but I mean... I'm not really in the mood to socialize with anyone. This whole ordeal has sucked the energy out of me. I've been being thrown around the country for days, ever since they found me.

I don't even want to think about what's happening outside of this place, either. I'm sure people have lots of thoughts and things to say about what I did.

I wonder if she saw it.

The news, I mean. Of course she saw it, who didn't? I bet her and all my old classmates and friends are probably talking about it, about me, what I'd done - right now. Trying to pick apart my motive, maybe grieving about the life I'd thrown away. Guess I had a lot ahead of me.

Can't help but wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if she's disappointed in me. Or maybe proud. Why am I thinking so much about what she thinks of me? It was one fling, from ages ago, I can't even remember when... at one of countless parties, and yet I still see how she looked underneath me so clearly.

It wasn't really just a fling. I talked to her about it - about how the system was falling apart (if it was ever together to begin with) and I felt the need to put all this privilege I'd been granted to good use. How I felt like I had to do something. She told me about herself, too, how she'd been fucked over time and time again and how she knew countless others who felt the same way.

Actually, yeah, we spent a lot of time together, thinking back on it. She'd come over on those cold winter nights I remember so fondly and we'd keep warm together, whatever way we could find. She was kind of... below me, I guess. Lower class. Not that I cared that much, though. Didn't make her any less of a lover.

And then I went radio silent. Then I figured out exactly what that thing I had to do was, and I put all my effort towards it. I didn't have time for love anymore. I had to take the chance I'd been given and fix things.

So I started leaving her on seen, stopped answering my door, even when she'd yell that she knew I was there, stopped showing up at the places I'd loved before, I stopped everything. Dropped off the map and left nothing but a ghost in my place.

She probably hates me.

I'd like to think that maybe this brings her solace... that maybe the idea that "it wasn't because you did something wrong" made her feel better, but I doubt it does.

When I get out of here, if I even do, she'll probably have forgotten all about me, because everybody forgets. I'll be old news by the time that day comes, and everything we did, everything we wanted to do - would just be a hazy memory.

I still remember seeing her for the first time. I remember the way her eyes pierced through my soul, and I remember how it made me feel inside.

I wonder if she remembers that too.